Central Train Station
After our group tour in the morning, they let us off at a market a few minutes walk from the hotel. The market was geared towards tourists selling statues, baskets, wooden carvings and fabrics. I had learned a long time ago that when I purchased items on vacation and it seemed like a good idea, I would get home and wonder what possessed me to buy them in the first place.
I decided that it was time to do something a little different. I headed back to the hotel and asked our tour guide about the Circle Line Train. She corrected my by saying “Circle Train” and confirmed the station was just a few blocks away. The Circle Train goes around the Yangon in a big circle.
As I walked on the bridge over the train station I couldn’t help but notice that the station had seen better days. Off to one side were abandoned cars being reclaimed by the jungle. I am not sure how much maintenance had been done on the trains or rails since the British left. I was looking at another time.
I have to admit, walking in to the train station was a bit intimidating. It appeared that there were a lot of people who lived there. As I approached what I assumed was a ticket counter, everything was written in Burmese Script. I couldn’t make out what was a number vs letters. I saw one sign that was written in English that said something about the Myanmar government wanting tourist. I headed to that counter. I was relieved when he spoke enough English to tell me that Circle train would take about three hours and where to buy tickets.
As we pulled out of the Central Rail, I knew what I was about to see was the real Yangon and although it may not be pretty, it was going to be probably the best part of the day – and it was. There was something about sitting in open window gazing out. Watching the local people getting on an off going about their daily lives.
I think the top cruising speed of the train was about 20 mph and if it had gone much faster, it would have derailed!
I remember about the stuff they put on their faces. My mom made it from grinding wood onto a circular stone slab mixed with some water. My parents still have sarongs (those skirts). They used to still wear them around at home (Arcadia) casually. I’m not sure if they still wear them around.
Love the pic of the marketplace, almost primitive, with the man and boy in the center, oblivious to all around them, as they are engrossed in something on a laptop computer! Question: The pic of the man wading through waste deep water…is that a crop? If so, what is it?