Yangon/Rangoon, Myanmar

I don’t know much about Myanmar and can’t say that after having gone there, I do now either. A little over a week ago I remember wrapping up around an article about a monk in Yangon who set himself ablaze in a political protest over the military regime. I was engrossed in this article and can even still recall sitting on my bed daydreaming about what situation, indoctrination, or just purity of passion would lead a person to make such a dramatic public statement. Perhaps his motives were completely pure, and he should be hailed a martyr…or perhaps he was full of other issues but wanted to look like a martyr on the way out. Perhaps he just wanted some attention. Seeing as how he remained completely still and silent in some sort of meditative trance throughout his transformation into a fireball, I have to lean towards the side of pure motives. In any sense, he fireballed at Myanmar’s largest and most famous Buddhist pagoda, the Shwedagon Pagoda. That night after our show, I made the 45-minute drive beside the remote shores of the Yangon River into downtown Yangon to see the 326 foot shrine, never making the connection until I was standing there where he did it…

At 2500 years old, the pagoda’s spire soars a massive 326 feet into the air, its solid shell of gold plates and over 6500 diamonds, rubies and other precious stones illuminated the sky around the complex for hundreds of yards.

I’ve never seen anything like it, and as I walked barefoot around the complex observing the handful of worshippers in front of and behind me, I couldn’t help but yearn to be a part of their experience. Here I was in a foreign land around people seeming to show genuine expressions of faith in a foreign thing/concept/whatever…and there was this deep feeling of comfort, but not like a restful comfort…more a comfort that required action…like a stirring that said, “it doesn’t stop here”. The feeling must be somewhat like the experience of a non-Christian walking into a massive European cathedral for the first time, knowing nothing of why it exists, but not really needing to. Jump, Little Children (or just “Jump” now) had a perfectly written and recorded song about this experience cleverly titled Cathedrals.

Swept away with the leaves and incense ash at the end of the day.

Self-Isolation has allowed the country (formerly known as Burma) to retain its charm and connection with its ancient traditions…which is just a polite way of saying it is alarmingly underdeveloped. From what I’ve heard while traveling here, the government in Myanmar keeps its people purposefully in poverty as a means for control. As has been proven, the poorer a people are, the less likely they will or can resist. Among the poverty, lies a jewel of Buddhist faith which some jokingly suggest if torn down and distributed among the people…

Myanmar countryside...Drive along the Yangon River




Small Buddhist pagota on the drive to downtown...


Shwedagon Pagoda






Reclining Buddha


Seated Buddha


Incense and water prayer shrine


Buildings that surround the pathway around the Pagoda


Three weeks later, on May 2nd, a massive cyclone killed over 22,000 people in Yangon.