Wonderful welcome! Heat, sounds, roads, cars, absence of motorbikes and scooters all refreshingly different!
Both, women and men wear mostly traditional clothes – both wear a sarong, differently patterned and tied for men and women.
Climate and vegetation is quite similar to that of Queensland. At the lovely home of my friends I, too, was given some wonderfully colourful sarongs and tops. I was then whisk away to a travel agency where my next three days were planned for me. Any domestic flights need to be booked through a travel agency – there is still some state control in place. I just had to hand over the money and the rest was done for me.
Sithu Hein, the son of the two ladies and his friend Kit had taken me under their wings and took me to a local restaurant where we sampled various real Burmese dishes. Luckily no circardas or other insects were part of the fare.

We then went to the Shwedagon pagoda. What can I say! Bright, golden and impressive – especially at night.

We were joined by Sithu Hein’s mother and walked once around the entire complex.

In one area of the temple ground is a very large photo of the Mahabodhi temple in Bodhgaya. 85% of the population is Buddhist so in the next few days whenever I mentioned that I had just come from Bodhgaya or Buddhagaya as some people like to refer to, people knew immediately. It was a good way to connect with people.

When I stayed with Kiran-jee at the Daijokyio TG I had the immense pleasure of meeting a lovely Burmese family consisting of three generations- the mother, her two daughters, and the grandson. They had travelled with a group of monks to BG for a very special Buddhist ceremony. They asked me to look them up when I arrived in Yangoon.

A series of meetings that reinforced the notion of a few degrees of separation began as I left India for Burma.
The taxi driver who took me to the airport not only came from Bihar but, wait for it, from Bodhgaya.
Most of the passenger travelling to Burma where of course Burmese (mostly pilgrims and monks) and so before long I was asked whether I had been to Bodhgaya as I was using a shoulder bag with the Bodhi tree on it. The pilgrim and monk had a good look at my photo and spotted Burmese Bhante, the abbot of the Burmese Vihara in BG. He also knew the Burmese family I was about to meet in Yangoon as well as the monks who had travelled with the family to BG. Later when I stayed in Bagan the same thing happened with a restaurant owner who had travelled to BG on pilgrimage with his wife.