The last of the rotating cast of ancient capitals around Mandalay, our short visit to Ava happened the morning our cruise was to set sail for Bagan. Between breakfast and launch time at 10:30, we were just able to get a flavor for this more remote and extremely tranquil site. 

For such an out-of-the-way place, a robust collection of locals peddling postcards, necklaces, and longyis (the traditional skirt men wear) met us on shore when we disembarked. I knew I was in trouble when I was still on board and noticed a young woman point to me, lean over to her friend, and surely say something like, “That one’s mine.” As soon as I stepped off the boat she cozied up to me, asking if I wanted to buy a necklace; my “no thank yous” were met with, “OK maybe later?” This exchange was repeated during the short walk from the boat to our hired horse cart. Little did I know I’d just made a friend for the morning.

Our first stop was at the “leaning tower,” which is all that remains of a former royal complex. Though there are stairs on the side, Myo didn’t extend the invitation to climb up, so I assume it’s now closed or perhaps unsafe (though considering our walk across the train bridge, it’s hard to ascertain where the unsafe barometer is here!).

It was here that I realized my friend had followed our horse cart from the dock on her bicycle to try to get me to buy something. So when she put her sights on me, she wasn’t kidding. I had no intention at all of buying anything as what she was selling was sold by every other vendor we encountered all over the country, and most likely came from a factory in China. This did not mean that I wasn’t utterly charmed by her (I have no photo because I felt that would have been disrespectful): she was tall, 21 years old, beautiful, and incredibly persistent.  In the education reform world back home, there’s a lot of talk about how to instill grit in our students; this gal had grit coming out of her ears. During one transit in the back of the horse cart I said to Myo, “I really want to help her. Is it better to buy from her or not buy from her?” With typical sagacity and brevity, Myo said, “It’s complicated.” “Yes, I know it’s complicated,” I responded, “but you live here – help me understand what I can do.” “Impossible. Too hard to say.” She rode behind us  and gave me the sales pitch for the next couple of stops before I think she finally realized I really wasn’t going to buy anything. Afterwards, Josh said, “She could be the next Elon Musk, but we’ll never know because she lives here.” In other words, it’s heartbreaking (for two former teachers) to see that kind of tenacity in a context that provides no other oppotunity than trailing after tourists selling cheap crap from China. 

Our next stop was an old brick and stucco monastery, which is unusual as they are almost all built from wood. Myo explained that structures were built from wood on this site twice and burned down twice, so the queen in charge finally broke tradition and commissioned a more fire-resistant structure. I found this to be one of my favorite sites; we arrived before the bulk of the other tourists and the mix of yellow walls and black soot combined with the ornate carving details was quite beautiful.

The inside was pretty, too.

Next  we visited a very old teak monastery, which resembled the “kitty smell” monastery on the road to Inle Lake. It was lovely, but very dark inside and too shadowed outside for me to find any good photo ops.

Our final stop was this gorgeous ruin, with a few remaning walls and a couple Buddha images in the vines.

Most (maybe even all) of the other Buddha images we’ve seen have been housed inside of temples, so this one was, to me, special.

Other than the Ava sights on the tour, the highlight of the morning was riding in an old horse cart. I liked our horse the best because he (she?) was the only one with pink orchids on his/her head.

And not to be overly graphic, but we also learned on this ride that horse flatulence is universally funny.