Sitting on the Dock of the Bay by Otis Redding (on repeat please)
Who Says by John Mayer (the feel of the song, not so much the 'I do whatever I want' lyrics)
I was most excited for Inle Lake (I <3>
We wandered around Naungshwe, the cheap backpacker town, until we thought we'd seen it all (ghetto fabulous museum and myster flour on noodles) and started walking due east, by a seamstress' recommendation of a cave and monastery "20 minutes walk." Our guest house said maybe 30. We put on the good sheos and headed east. Turns out 30 minutes was almost half way- we walked and walked and walked- no singing- passing the outskirts of town we didnt' know existed, government offices I wanted to egg, a lot of kids on their way home from school and then! a dirt road. Onward we went, hoping for the best despite lies of close proximity.
This is far too much leadup for this caliber of story- I'll get down to facts. After an hour of alking we hit the mountain where a score of young monks (aged 8-16 probably) were on the hill in red, moving big rocks from the hillside. Hmm, okay? Up the stairs was aloverly little pagoda and a man carving a huge plaster or stone pagoda fish (for good luck?). One of the little monks (very cute but in no way endearing) led us down a windy path a bunch of stairs and someone's backyard to a creepy but awesome cave with a bunch of Buddhist reics and a roped-off staircase that led down into the dark. The boy motioned for us to take a picture down the abyss. Haych no, little boy. I know enough about Buddhist ghosts to know that pictures in places like this are a bad idea. Our walk back was pleasant and we had a pitiful pancake dinner and amazing kettle corn (and Star Cola as a night cap). The 45 minute longboat (motor canoe) ride down to the lake was FREEZING. We (2 of us) in our chairs with lifejacks (I used mine as acusion, because really), the Burmese (at least 5 per boat, but up to 20) coming to and from markets on the floor (probably more comfortable), along with 500 pounds of produce, of course).