When I first stepped in this city I was transported back in time( err.. Not in a nice way) and though I did find the time warp romantic sometimes, mostly I was cribbing about it. Then I found some family roots right here in these very streets of Yangon and I moved back yet more in time.
Last month my mom visited me armed with her trivia about my grandmothers life in Rangoon 80 years ago. We set about searching for those traces while she filled my head with fading stories that she had heard. To add more romance to this story we both started reading the Glass Palace and had our eyes in sepia toned glasses. Though we didn't really get to finding much other than the street she had lived in, my sepia tinted glasses haven't come off and I am now looking at what I once thought shabby downtown district with eyes of a treasure hunter... There is loads of history in those crumbling corners and maybe I will find that school we were looking for one day.
Last month my mom visited me armed with her trivia about my grandmothers life in Rangoon 80 years ago. We set about searching for those traces while she filled my head with fading stories that she had heard. To add more romance to this story we both started reading the Glass Palace and had our eyes in sepia toned glasses. Though we didn't really get to finding much other than the street she had lived in, my sepia tinted glasses haven't come off and I am now looking at what I once thought shabby downtown district with eyes of a treasure hunter... There is loads of history in those crumbling corners and maybe I will find that school we were looking for one day.
Grandmas tales did bring to life many a ruin and it's a picture I am painting again and again in my head... That of my grand mom arriving at the Rangoon docks and looking on towards the Shwedagon in awe as it dominates the skyline then as it does now...
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