What?! Rangoon is gone; not only in name as it is now called Yangon. We recognized nothing of the Rangoon of 1985 when we were last here. Even the Strand Hotel, where we ate a lobster after months of living on $15/day for all food, accommodation and transportation, was the same.

Back then, the Burmese government allowed a one week only visa and all visitors had to fly in and out of this city. Backpackers flocked here, bringing in their duty free whiskey and cigarettes, selling them on the black market for enough profit to fund the week. Oblivious to the potential risks involved, we participated fully (and thus ate a lobster).

Most travellers dashed around the country, taking night trains and rickety old buses so they could see the main sites of Pagan, Inle lake and Mandalay. Some even found doctors who would 'diagnose' ear infections so they couldn't fly in order to extend their time in this mysterious and beautiful land. 

Not us, however. We were near the end of our year-long trip and worn out from a physically and emotionally stressful time in Nepal - I had been in hospital with a lung infection followed by dysentery when I drank codeine-water instead of chlorine-water due to a miscommunication between Jim and a pharmacist (or medication shopkeeper?). Jim had been thrown in jail for a few hours and had his passport taken away for pissing off a corrupt Interpol officer in Kathmandu when we tried to help out a fellow traveller who had had her camera stolen.

I didn't even want to come here but we knew it was a special chance to see this country. We made our way to Pagan (now Bagan) and in the hottest weather we have ever experienced in all our travels then and now, spent four days dripping in sweat in dusty 45 degree weather. Those days of exotic, unknown countries, before Internet and the widespread information we have now in 2017, are long gone. We are ever so grateful we got to see Myanmar as Burma.

Shwedagon, started some time between the 6th and 10th centuries, is the highlight of Yangon. It is one of my most distinct memories of 1985 and not only because of the grandiosity and sacredness of this most revered Buddhist pagoda compound. It remains as that. However, we were the only tourists at his huge place where 8 hairs of the Buddha are enshrined.

But here is what we saw... a few monks wandered the glowing golden place. It began to rain; it rained so hard the drops splashed off the stone and marble floors about a foot high. As the water accumulated a band of young boys came running up the stairs to the entrance and began, with joyous laughter, running and launching themselves on their stomachs as they slid across the floors. Their laughter rang throughout. And we knew we were witnessing a very special moment.

This time, in 2017, Shwedagon is packed with pilgrims from Myanmar and tourists from all over the world. It is a stunning site, especially on the eve of a full moon, whether jammed with people or, as before, filled with the giggles of a few high-spirited and innocent children. Its spiritual essence is not lost. But something is as we travellers and tourists swarm these world sights in mass numbers. I feel sad for the lost wonder and awe of times gone by. 

We had two other special times here: 1) a vibrant dinner with teachers Alex and Krista and their two delightful boys Oscar and Basil who are from Nova Scotia, Canada and are living in Yangon. A mutual friend of a relative connected us, and 2) the most chaotic, lively and colourful meal at a favourite local restaurant called Thai Plus. I have never seen so many people talking, families eating, babies crying, brothers arguing, children laughing, wait staff scurrying, owners bossing and so much food bustling in and out of the kitchen and people's mouths all in one place. 

Life is good.

To see more of Jim's photos and in higher resolution, visit his Flickr site.