More Mandalay Monks

Owing to the fact that I went a little wild and took several hundred photos at this monastery on 90th Street in Mandalay, I couldn’t resist posting some more of them. Actually, I’ll blame the novice monks for the high photo total: when I returned for the second time they bombarded me with requests for more photos, and of course I couldn’t say no. But these kids were just so naturally sweet and funny, that I didn’t mind whatsoever. And I still laugh out loud when I look back at these shots. Hopefully, the next time I return to Mandalay — when I return with prints of the photos for each monk — I’ll think to ask them to tell me the name of the monastery!

 

 

 

Larry Williams & Johnny Watson

If you couldn’t tell from the cover of Two For the Price of One, listen to the music inside for confirmation: these two guys obviously had a great time recording together. Fun, frisky, funny, funky, fabulous: this album has it all.

Johnny “Guitar” Watson enjoyed a popular run in the late 1970s funk scene, but this album, recorded with Larry Williams in 1967, remains one of the best things he ever did. The pure joy of these guys making music is infectious. This is music that smiles and tickles, good vibes pouring out of every song. Really, there’s not a clunker in the whole bunch. The CD version of Two For the Price of One contains eight bonus tracks that were not on the original album. The first six songs are red-hot instrumentals, culled from Watson’s Okeh label album, The Fantastic Piano and Guitar of Johnny Watson. The final two tracks, which include vocals from Watson, were originally on the album In a Fats Bag: the Johnny Guitar Watson Trio Plays Fats Waller. More icing on an already delicious cake.

 

Early in his career, Larry Williams enjoyed hits in the 1950s with songs like “Short Fat Fannie,” “Slow Down,” “Dizzy Miss Lizzie” and “Bony Maronie.” He was a very influential figure, even inspiring the likes of some Liverpool lads called The Beatles. His career, however, soon went downhill and he spend some time in prison in the early 60s. He was still “on the skids” (says the CD booklet) by the time Two For the Price of One was made. After the short-lived success of his pairing with Watson, Larry Williams skidded further downhill, spending more time in prison, battling a drug problem, and threatening to shoot his friend Little Richard over a drug deal. He died of gunshot wounds, possibly self-inflicted, at his home in January, 1980. He was only 44.

 

As for Johnny Guitar Watson, he enjoyed a much longer career, recording albums from 1951 until 1994, spiking in the late 1970s and early 80s with a series of very popular funk albums. You can hear some of that music and more on an excellent 2-CD compilation from Shout Factory called The Funk Anthology. Johnny Guitar Watson died in 1996, at the age of 61, while performing at a concert in Tokyo, Japan.

 

Road to Ruins

There is something about old temple ruins that holds a magnetic attraction for me. I can wander around these atmospheric sites for hours on end, marveling at the carvings, bas reliefs, cracked walls, and even the shards of broken antiquity lying on the ground. I’ve visited Angkor in Cambodia dozens of times and never get tired of its special splendor, nor do I ever get bored touring Bagan and its thousand-plus pagodas, even though they haven’t been “properly” restored according to some observers.

 

In recent years it has become somewhat of a chore to admire the temples at Angkor due to the onslaught of tourists who have descended upon the archaeological park. Gone are the days when you could wander around Bayon and not be run over by busloads of loud tourists. Ten years ago it was the Japanese and Thais who were most noticeable, but they’ve been supplanted by Chinese and Koreans. Meanwhile, in Myanmar — even in the famous ancient town of Bagan — the tourist numbers are scant and you can still roam around the ruins without hearing someone yell “Hey Dude”. You MAY stumble across a few stray tourists at some of the bigger pagodas during high season, especially around sunset time, but even when Bagan does get busy, the numbers pale in comparison to Angkor.

While they don’t boast the elevated splendor of Bagan’s numerous pagodas, the ruins in Shan State’s Nyaungshwe vicinity are also quite interesting in their own way. Many people are familiar with the magnificent Intha stupas in nearby Indein, on the shores of Inle Lake, but right in the heart of Nyaungshwe are smaller groves of old beauties, begging to be admired. Take a walk around town or cycle down some of the dirt lanes in the area and be prepared to “discover” some very cool ruins. Here are some photos from both Bagan and Nyaungshwe that I took recently.

James McClure

In the steamy world of mystery novelists James McClure was never very among the most well known, and his output was modest by most publishing standards, but his series of Kramer & Zondi novels remain beloved by many readers around the world.

I just finished reading The Artful Egg, one of the excellent books in McClure’s unique Kramer & Zondi series. These novels revolve around the exploits of two irreverent South African police detectives, one black and one white. I found a paperback copy of this book recently during my trip to Myanmar, in Nyaungshwe of all crazy places, at Htein Linn’s Golden Bowl Bookshop. What a find!

The Song Dog, is cited by many reviewers as McClure’s best book in the series, but The Artful Egg, written in 1984, is also a delight. Two different murders, some playful dialogue, absurd scenarios, clever plotting, and a confused and sexually frustrated Indian postman who likens himself to Sherlock Holmes, help to give the book plenty of twists and local color. A thoroughly enjoyable read.

One aspect of McClure’s novels that make them particularly noteworthy is that they are set in 1970s and 1980s South Africa, during the apartheid era. Having a black (zulu) and a white police detective to team up and solve crimes together adds a compelling social and political dynamic to the story.

Sadly, McClure passed away in 2006 at the age of 66, so we won’t be treated to any more Kramer and Zondi tales. But mystery fans would be doing themselves a favor by discovering his books. There are eight titles in the Kramer and Zondi series. He also wrote three other novels and three works of non-fiction, in addition to being a full-time journalist for various newspapers in the UK for many years.

Road Food

Here are some observations, opinions, recollections, and comments, culled from notes I took during my recent trip to Myanmar:

 

It rained a lot during the trip, which isn’t a shock because it was indeed rainy season. One taxi driver in Yangon did not have working windshield wipers, but he did keep one stray wiper on the dashboard of his vehicle, and when it rained he grabbed the blade, stuck his right arm out of the open window and wiped off the windshield that way. Hey, whatever works!

 

Many locals that I talked to are not fully convinced that tourist arrivals have increased as much as has been claimed. At the very least the money from those hordes of tourists has not trickled down to them. In the case of package tour groups, many of them come on pre-paid deals and don’t spend much once they are in the country. Other high-end tourists often cocoon themselves in their swank hotels and never venture out into the dusty streets of the cities and towns of Myanmar, thus depriving local merchants of extra income. And then there are the backpackers, a notoriously stingy lot who insist on bargaining for the cheapest deals or just plain don’t spend any more money than absolutely necessary … except when it comes to beer.

 

The Inwa bookshop in Yangon — the one that used to be located across the street from the Traders Hotel — has moved to Pansodan Road. It was at Inwa where I finally — after checking a dozen shops in Mandalay and several more in Yangon — found a Burmese language edition of “Organic Farming” by Cho Han Kyu that a friend had asked me to buy for Daw Tin Tin Nu at the Maing Thauk Orphange. At first, the clerks at Inwa denied having the book until I told them that a friend in Taunggyi, May Hnin Kyaw, had bought a copy at this same store the previous month. With the help of my Yangon buddy Aung Zay, we located the book and then Aung Zay arranged to have it sent to Daw Tin Tin Nu. Adventures in book buying!

 

In Nyaungshwe I saw two boys walking down a road riddled with mud puddles, arms around one another, huddled close together … so they could both share the same set of ear buds and listen to music.

 

Wandering through an atmospheric grove of old stupas and temple ruins on the outskirts of Nyaungshwe that I had stumbled upon last year, I was saddened to see that a head had been decapitated from one particularly lovely statue. Reminds me of the depressing temple vandalism that’s robbed Angkor of some of its precious artifacts.

 

I re-stocked the first aid kits at two schools in Nyaungshwe, and also brought more medicine for the novice monks at Shwe Yan Pyay monastery. The most “popular” medicine was anti-fungal cream used to treat head lice and other skin problems. There was such a demand from the monks, both at the school and at the monastery, that I had to go to two more pharmacies to buy enough for everyone.

 

One of the things I like best about Mandalay is the variety of teashops all over town. But these are not places you go just to sip a cup of tea. Teashops are where many locals go for breakfast and lunch, or just to shoot the bull with friends over a cup of tea … or juice or even coffee. There are plenty of big, shiny teashops where the waiters all wear uniforms and the menus are extensive, but there are also some smaller and funkier joints too. One of the little teashops I like to visit is near the railway station. It’s open 24 hours, looks a bit grimy, and the waiters are a rag-tag bunch of kids who aren’t lucky enough to have uniforms. But they have very tasty monhinga and every time I leave them a tip the waiters take turns shaking my hand. Politeness and appreciation are rampant over here. I like it.

 

One time at Minthiha, one of the “big and shiny” Mandalay teashops, I was asking Yan Naing Soe, one of the waiters, to help me pronounce a word in my Burmese dictionary. Another customer, walking by my table, stopped and asked if he could help me. No, but thank you anyway, I replied. These people are just so nice.

 

As much as I love the noodle dishes and other food at teashops in Mandalay, my favorite food is in Nyaungshwe. The Unique Superb Food House was excellent as always, but the best meals I had were at the homes of friends like Htein Linn and Ma Pu Su. Fabulous soups, salads, and curry dishes. And the vegetarian feast that we were served at the school ceremony at Tat Ein village was the best of them all.

 

In Mandalay I had to diplomatically juggle trishaw drivers, even though I didn’t really need their services very often because I had a bicycle. But when you hear tales of woe such as “I haven’t had any customers in 4 days,” you feel like you need to throw a little business their way. The guy that normally hangs outside my hotel, Maung Lwin, wasn’t around the night I arrived, so I used Hashim, a fellow I met about six years ago, to take me to Aye Myit Tar for dinner. I used him once more before Maung Lwin turned up again. He’s been meditating. I also bumped into two more guys I’ve used many times in the past: Myint Shin and Mr. Htoo. Myint Shin excitedly told me about the trip he’d taken two months previously: a Canadian couple hired him to travel with them around the country for three weeks. Not only was he paid well, Myint Shin got to experience air travel for the first time. And here I thought that giving monks a ride in an elevator was something special!

 

When I took the kids from 90th Street in Mandalay on the trip to Yankin Hill, they all brought along individual supplies of candy and gum, which they were more than willing to share with me. One of their favorite treats was packets of drink mix; the sort of instant sugary crap like Tang and Ovaltine that you mix with water. But these kids cut to the chase and just dumped the stuff into the palm of their hands and ate it that way. They also gave some to the monkeys at Yankin Hill.

 

In Bagan, I cycled to an isolated old pagoda to watch the sunset one day, accompanied by the young “Maung Maung Brothers” (Zin Maung Maung and Phyo Maung Maung) from New Bagan. They practiced their English with me in the form of a restaurant role play. I was the customer and they were the waiters. I would place orders such as; 2 plates of beef curry, 1 plate of tomato salad, and 2 bowls of vegetable soup. When I asked for 6 bottles of beer and 10 mangoes, they thought that was hilarious.

 

While in Nyaungshwe I went to the nearby village of Maing Thauk one day to visit the girls’ orphanage. A friend of mine from Hawaii had spent time last year at that orphanage, where she taught English classes and helped them start an organic farming project. When I told her I was going to visit, she sent me some DVDs and music CDs to take to the girls. The girls were positively thrilled with the gifts, but they also asked about my friend and wanted me to send their best wishes to her. It was obvious they missed her very much, and it was very heartwarming to see such gratitude and adoration from the kids. If my friend didn’t realize how much she is missed and cherished, she should by now!

 

At the airport in Bangkok I was struck by the hordes of badly dressed tourists parading around the terminal, some of them dressed more like they were taking a stroll on the beach rather than about to board an international flight. And of course there were a few of those befuddled “socks and sandals” characters in short-shorts wobbling around too.

 

This was a much more expensive trip than I had envisioned. Sure, there were unplanned expenses like buying all the school uniforms in Mandalay, but there were other complications too. The falling exchange rate was the biggest factor. Two years ago you got 1,200 kyat for one US dollar. Last year the rate had dropped into the 900s. This year the highest rate I got was 820 kyat in Yangon, and the lowest 750 kyat in Nyaungshwe. Rumors are that it may drop even further this year. At all hotels and guesthouses tourists must pay in US dollars, and those rates have also risen. Last year’s $20 hotel is now $25, for example. So much for bargain travel!

 

In between power cuts in Mandalay, I occasionally turned on the TV to catch up with world events on BBC. One day they had a feature on the “Digital Divide” and how various organizations are keen to give students in poorer countries free laptop computers, as well as trying to give them widespread online access, introduce them to cloud computing, and so on. Those sound like noble goals, but are they practical? I travel around some very poor regions in Southeast Asia and I see many towns and villages with not only no internet access, but no electricity, Free laptops for students? That will just give the kids another option for playing games. Honestly, people in the “developed” world are so obsessed with technology and gadgets, that they forgot that millions of other people around the world don’t have the luxury of playing with all these iThings, and quite frankly they don’t NEED all that crap. Before they start tackling the digital divide, perhaps these techno types might focus on more pressing issues in the third world: safe communities where children can play without stepping on landmines or being shot; roofs that don’t leak; schools with well-paid and properly trained teachers; dependable sources of healthy food and clean water. And keep your poisonous religion mumbo-jumbo out of the mix while you’re at it!

 

On my last night in the country I was in Yangon, and as I usually do, I had dinner alone at the Traders Hotel. Their dinner buffet is one of the best value-for-the-money meals in Asia. Not the most sumptuous of spreads, but more than good enough to justify the price. It used to be $16, but now it’s gone up to $20, which is still a very good deal. As I was dining, a middle-aged Burmese man approached my table and introduced himself: U Myint. He asked if I was enjoying my stay in Myanmar and of course I replied that indeed I was. Like so many locals that I’ve met here over the years, U Myint was sincerely happy that I was visiting his country, and expressed his appreciation for my visit.

 

The tax man is back! As of June 1, there is now a domestic departure tax at airports around the country. I discovered this new surcharge when taking a flight from Mandalay to Heho. I didn’t mind paying the 1,000 kyat (about US$1) tax so much, but the totally unorganized “system” they are using to pay the tax made me quite angry. In Mandalay, there is a tiny circular booth stuck in one corner of the terminal, staffed by three people who examine your ticket, take your money and painstakingly write out a receipt. This muddy process is slowed down even further by the fact that there is no queue system in place at this booth. It’s a total free-for-all; people pushing and jostling to slap down tickets and money on the counter, urging the overworked staffers to process them as quickly as possible. Chaotic? It’s beyond insane. This is the first time I’ve ever lost my temper in Myanmar. Really, I got so frustrated I started shouting. And then a funny thing happened after I started my crazy act; my ticket and tax were processed rather quickly.

 

Michelle Shocked & Mavis Staples

After decades of recording albums as a member of the Staple Singers, and as a solo artist, veteran soul/gospel singer Mavis Staples finally won her very first Grammy Award earlier this year. Hard to believe, but true. But even stranger was the category for which she won: Best Americana Album. Best what?

 

Indeed, even though the term has been in use for more than a decade in the music industry, 2010 was the first year that the Grammy Awards acknowledged such a category. For most music listeners, however, Americana remains a fuzzily-defined genre. Mavis won for her solo album, You Are Not Alone, which was produced by Jeff Tweedy of Wilco, a band definitely more at home in the realm of Americana. While it might be stretching things to define her fine album as Americana, You Are Not Alone was definitely worthy of recognition and acclaim. Her 2007 album, We’ll Never Turn Back, produced by the industrious Ry Cooder, was also a jewel. In between those two memorable studio albums, she released Live: Hope at the Hideout, which, as the title suggests, is a live recording from a club in Chicago. It’s a hot, steaming recording that shows Mavis still has a set of powerful pipes, even as she was closing in on her 70th year on the planet at the time of recording.

 

As for this thing dubbed “Americana,” here is the definition furnished by the power brokers at Grammy:

Americana music has its roots in the folk-rock and “outlaw country” styles of the 1970s, adding elements or rock, folk, bluegrass, R&B, blues and pop to country music, resulting in a distinctive roots-oriented sound that lives in a world apart from country and the other genres it may draw upon. While some acoustic instruments are often present, especially acoustic guitar, Americana often uses a full electric band. Americana may retain the twang of country, but with a pronounced edge—often musical or political—that would not be mistaken for today’s commercial country music

I once read a review that called Michelle Shocked a recording artist with integrity, and I thought that was a very apt description. Her songs are honest and heartfelt. But nowadays I think that her music would definitely fit properly into this “Americana” category too. If you want to talk roots music, with both acoustic and electric elements, Michelle Shocked is up there with the best of them.

 

Michelle Shocked first came to the world’s attention with the quirky album, The Texas Campfire Tapes in 1986. This was not your conventional debut album, but then again it wasn’t supposed to be. The entire album was recorded on a standard over-the-counter Walkman tape recorder at a folk festival in Texas. Not something that most people would think was worthy of worldwide release. But Michelle’s acoustic guitar performances were so riveting, her vocals so engaging, and the songs so good, that a label decided to put it out … although apparently not with Michelle’s endorsement. But Michelle rectified any misgivings about the original release of that album with a similarly titled reissue called The Texas Campire Takes in 2003. This version is a 2-CD set that includes the complete unedited original session, along with previously unreleased songs and between song “narratives.” There is also a 52-page booklet with oodles of photos too. But once again, be prepared for less than optimum sound quality. There’s only so much you can do with the sound from old Walkman tapes even with all the digital editing programs out there nowadays.

 

Michelle Shocked really took the music world by storm when she scored a huge hit with “Anchorage,” one of the tracks off her excellent 1988 album Short Sharp Shocked, produced by the legendary Pete Anderson. Other songs on the album, such as “When I Grow Up,” “Memories of East Texas,” and “Graffiti Limbo” showcased Michelle’s deft songwriting skills, and the poignant power of her voice. I still love the “bonus” track, a raucous version of “Fogtown” (a song that first appeared as an acoustic version on Texas Campfire Tapes) that closes the album, sung by a member of the punk band MDC, who sounds eerily like David Johansen of the New York Dolls. It definitely doesn’t “fit” with the style of the rest of the songs on the album, but yet it works. I thought it was a great way to end the album, though I’m sure it puzzled many a listener.

 

My favorite Michelle Shocked album, however, is 1992’s Arkansas Traveler, a “roots” record that was her tribute to string bands and the blackface minstrel era. This was a rambunctious and joyful effort that dabbled in country, bluegrass, folk, soul, and blues. Ain’t that Americana? These were absolutely great songs, bursting with life and passion. And look at the supporting cast of musicians; Levon Helm, Garth Hudson, Pops Staples, Taj Mahal, Clarence “Gatemouth” Brown, Albert Lee, Tony Levin, Alison Krauss, Doc Watson, Jerry Douglas, Mark O’Connor, Norman Blake, and Bernie Leadon, along with members of the Red Clay Ramblers, Hothouse Flowers, and Uncle Tupelo. Expectations for such a talented group were high, but they more than delivered the goods. And even with so many musicians on hand, this was still very much a Michelle Shocked album. This album was re-released in 2004 with seven bonus tracks of previously unreleased material, including some live performances. A must have.

 

Like many talented artists that once had recording contracts with major labels, Michelle Shocked has parted ways with the corporate companies, but she continues to record new albums and play concerts.

http://www.michelleshocked.com/index.htm

Recent Reading

On the road, at home, and occasionally at work, here are some of the books that I’ve read in the past month or so. All real books with stained pages and no digital versions.

 

Graham Greene – Our Man in Havana

I went on a Greene spree about 20 years ago and read five or six novels, then didn’t read anything again until last year when I belatedly finished The Quiet American. I found a copy of Our Man in Havana while browsing the street book stalls in Yangon recently. This is a very gripping tale, and probably the funniest thing I’ve ever read by Greene.

 

T. Jefferson Parker – Renegades

Parker continues his run of strong mystery novels, this one featuring the ingratiating Charlie Hood character once again. Parker’s vividly real characters, sharp dialogue, and deft plotting have elevated him to the top tier of those currently purveying the crime fiction genre.

 

John Sandford – Buried Prey

The latest in Sandford’s addictive “Prey” series of mystery novels, featuring sharp-dressed crime-stopper Lucas Davenport, is another winner. Some truly hilarious moments amidst all the violence and suspense.

 

Norman Lewis – Naples ‘44

Lewis is best known as a travel writer, but this book is more of a memoir of the time he spent in Naples, Italy as a soldier during World War II. As always, Lewis graces the pages with descriptive prose, giving the reader a real feel for the place and time. And his fondness for the kind but beleaguered Italians he meets during his time in the city comes pouring off the pages.

 

Chester Himes – The Heat’s On

This is one of the novels in Himes’s acclaimed “Harlem Cycle” featuring police detectives Coffin Ed and Grave Digger Jones. In addition to being a highly entertaining work of crime fiction, this novel, like others that Himes wrote in the 1940s, 50s and 60s, sheds light on racial relations and tensions in the United States. It’s akin to exploring an entirely different world, far from that of mainstream white America. Realistic dialogue and absurd scenarios make this an entertaining read. For some bizarre reason, the novels of Himes remain more popular in France than in his native US. Himes died in 1984.

 

Jo Nesbo – The Leopard

Nesbo is the hottest new writer on the mystery circuit — hailed as the “next Stieg Larsson” due to his Scandinavian roots no doubt, although Nesbo is Norwegian and Larsson was Swedish. This is the newest of five novels that Nesbo has penned so far, and I liked it a lot. Much better writing than Larsson (or, at least, better translating) and an endearingly complex character in detective Harry Hole (yes, that’s his unfortunate name). I’ve already started reading The Snowman, figuring I’ll just go in reverse order until I get to the first one in the series.

 

David W. Moore – The Superpollsters

This is a fascinating insider’s tale about the history and “business” of opinion polls, particularly those involving politics in the USA. It’s a bit dated, having been written and published in the mid-1990s, but it’s still an important book and offers an illuminating look at polling and the mistakes that are often made by these “experts”. After Thailand’s recent polling debacle — in which all of the major opinion polls made huge miscalculations in their projections — this is a must read for anyone who has doubts and reservations about the accuracy and ramifications of polling.

 

Bill Pronzini – Boobytrap

Pronzini is one of America’s better, yet more unheralded mystery novelists. This novel, published in the late 1990s, is one in his “Nameless Detective” series set in San Francisco. Absolutely stellar stuff; sharp dialogue, memorable characters, and lots of tension.

 

Joseph Hansen – Early Graves

Hansen wrote many mystery novels featuring the Dave Brandstetter character, a whiskey-drinking insurance investigator who is also gay. Inevitably, Brandstetter ends up solving crimes that the police cannot. Early Graves is one of the better books in the series. A few troubled, if not screwed-up characters, along with Brandstetter’s sexuality and a turbulent relationship make for an absorbing novel.

 

Ed McBain – Lullaby

I can’t get enough of McBain’s wonderful 87th Precinct “police procedural” novels, and this ranks as one of the best of the bunch. And it’s certainly one of the longest in that series. Between the frenzied action, and colorful characters at the precinct, McBain shows that he is also a skilled writer who can move the reader.

 

The Sinceros

It was 1979 and I was working at a record store in Orlando, Florida. One of the joys of being a record store geek in those days was getting promo copies of new albums from the record labels. One of the records that I played a lot that year was the debut album by the Sinceros, The Sound of Sunbathing. I had never heard of the band before, but the colorful cover of a nerdy looking couple and their sunglasses-wearing kids at the beach just screamed “Play Me!” I wasn’t expecting much, but the music turned out to be quite good, a catchy collection of pop songs that fit firmly inside the borders of a genre that was being called “New Wave.”

I often played this album in the record store and invariably a customer would ask me what was playing. Ah yes, those glorious days of “in-store play.” Songs like “Take Me To Your Leader,” “Break Her Heart,” and “Worlds Apart” were underappreciated classics, ones that should have been hits. Lead singer Mark Kjeldsen had a fine voice and had a knack for writing catchy songs. He was backed by a band of crack musicians who could harmonize with the best of them. Their keyboard-laden sweet pop songs very much resembled those of Squeeze, another good band at that time.

I had forgotten about this obscure little jewel of an album until it was rereleased on CD in 2009. So what if it took thirty years to make its digital debut, it was worth the wait! For some reason the CD reissue of The Sound of Sunbathing, which includes three bonus tracks, now comes with an entirely different cover, but you can see the silly original in the booklet that accompanies the package.

The band’s second album, Pet Rock, released in 1981, was actually an even stronger effort. The opening track, “Disappearing,” ranks as one of the very best songs that band ever recorded, a glorious slice of pop goodness that sticks in your head. Once again, it should have been a monster hit, but by the time of this album’s release, the Sinceros seemed hopelessly pigeonholed as a “cute” New Wave band and were never able to break out of that particular musical ghetto. The CD reissue of Pet Rock, which finally materialized last year, also contains a bunch of extra tracks. Most of these songs were what was originally called “2^nd Debut,” remixed versions of the songs that ended up on Pet Rock.

And what happened to the Sinceros after those two impressive albums? Well, as so often happens with unsuccessful partnerships, the band and record label soon “parted company” and the band soon broke up. Bass player Ron Francois joined the Eurogliders, drummer Bobbi Irwin became part of Nick Lowe’s touring band, and keyboardist Don Snow joined Squeeze. But lead singer and main songwriter Kjeldsen, arguably the most talented member of the band, pretty much vanished from the music business after 1983. He became a social worker for a few years and later was employed by his father’s vegetable oil business in London. Tragically, he died of AIDS complications in 1992.

Although most people have never even heard of the Sinceros, and their many fine tunes will probably never make their way onto any iPods, two very good albums await the listening pleasure of discerning pop and rock fans out there.

Games Monks Play

It was late afternoon in Nyaungshwe, and no rainstorms had yet descended on the scenic Shan State town. Time to explore. I’d already cycled down to an isolated group of funky old temple ruins near the lake — grass and weeds growing out of control between the lovely ancient structures, giving it an endearingly neglected vibe — that I always like to visit. It was too early to return to my hotel, so I decided to drop by Shwe Yan Pyay monastery and see what the novice monks there were doing. Normally at this time of the day — but not always — they have finished their studies.

When I arrived at the monastery, I heard them before I saw them: squeals of delight and shrieks of happiness ringing through the air. To the left of the vihara, or main sanctuary, there was a group of novice monks running around and playing a game of tag. What they were running around, and jumping on and off of, was some sort of concrete cistern that had no water inside.

I stood around for a minute looking at the scene before me, mesmerized by the way these young monks swiftly ran around and jumped and practically flew through the air, landing on the edges of the concrete monstrosity effortlessly. They were a sure-footed crew and obviously had played this game before. During the 15 minutes that I watched, not a single one fell or tripped or bumped their head on anything. Nevertheless, I felt like an anxious parent while I watched, afraid that one of them would tumble, gash their knee, or hurt themselves somehow. But I didn’t shout out any warnings or try to stop them from playing their game. I didn’t feel it was my responsibility to stop them, plus they all appeared to be having a fantastic time.

At one point I remembered that I had my camera with me, and that maybe I should document this little game with some photos. So I did. And here they are. Ladies and gentlemen; the flying monks of Shwe Yan Pyay!

Fragments from the Road

Here are some photographic fragments; odds and ends from my recent trip to Myanmar:

Morning fishing at a canal in Nyaungshwe.

At the teashop on 90th Street, Khin Nwe Lwin demonstrates a traffic signaling program she designed for her master’s thesis at university.

High-class transportation in Mandalay.

Villagers on their way to the morning market in Nyaungshwe.

Bamboo balancing act at a building in Mandalay.

Mo Htet Aung and Mo Gyi in Mandalay.

Backpacking monks near Zeigyo market in Mandalay.

Gaw Soe and his infant son in New Bagan.

My regular fruit seller at the market in Nyaungshwe.

A “nat” tree ornament in Yangon.

Teachers and students at a rural school near Nyaungshwe.

Newspaper seller and waiter at Minthiha teashop in Mandalay.

A novice monk chops wood at Shwe Yan Pyay monastery in Nyaungshwe.

It’s mango season in Mandalay!

Ma Pu Su and her daughter in Nyaungshwe.

Young waiters at a teashop near the railway station in Mandalay.

Myatt Swe Oo in Bagan appears to a man of many talents!

Two university students at Yankin Hill near Mandalay.

Trishaw driver taking a nap in Mandalay.

Bike shop in Mandalay.

Students take a badminton break at a rural school near Nyaungshwe.