Finally, I smelled the dry air and felt my skin slowly burn to a crisp by the merciless sun which shone over Bagan. I had mouthed the word "wow" many times at the many temples, stupas, and pagodas stretched out in front of me. Each second I savored and filled my head with unforgettable images not only of the place, but of its people. I was particularly endeared by those young children we met on our first morning in New Bagan. The previous night we had arrived wasted from the almost thirty-six hours of no-sleep traveling—from Manila, with a layover in Kuala Lumpur, a whole day in Yangon, and the eight-hour trip to New Bagan.
Young Thanaka Faces in a Timeless Place | Myanmar
A Morning Greeting in New Bagan
As the next day broke out of Bagan's surprisingly chilly night, we took a walk around town and were immediately greeted by half a dozen young girls and boys. Each was offering us postcards, both photographed and hand-drawn. They reminded me of the children at Angkor Wat in Cambodia who would follow you with a banter of "one dollar, one dollar only." There, though, it was one thousand to two thousand kyats per set of postcards (ten pieces).
Of all the kids who huddled around us, two girls and a young boy stood out. It was the innocent and welcoming smiles on their faces that I instantly recognized as "haunting, familiar, yet I can't seem to place it." I felt a different kind of familiarity. It was like I was meeting younger siblings I never had. The young boy, proud of his hand-drawn postcards of temples that abounded in Bagan, quietly showed his drawings to us. Not begging for us to buy from him, he looked us in the eyes, hopeful but not imposing. It was effective enough, as most of us, even though having bought a sackful of postcards already the previous day in Yangon, didn't mind buying more from him.
The Natural Beauty of Thanaka
Afterward, we took photographs of them as they gamely posed for our cameras. Their physical features, not different from ours, were uniquely defined by the thanaka they were wearing on their faces. It was like a mask that protected their skin from sunburn, but never shielded their most striking and comely features: the smiles on their faces.
"Thanaka is a yellowish-white cosmetic paste made from ground bark. It is a distinctive feature of Myanmar (formerly Burma) seen commonly applied to the face and sometimes the arms of women and girls and to a lesser extent men and boys. The use of thanaka has also spread to neighboring countries including Thailand."
A Sense of Belonging in a Foreign Land
Instead of walking around more, we ended up spending time lingering in the area where we met the kids. Gay's little girl, Luna, played with them. They lived in an environment dissimilar to ours (same-same-but-different) in terms of the scenery and political setup. It was a welcome surprise not to feel any strangeness. Dong Ho was even telling us he could live there for a long time. You would think that by traveling to two countries just to come there, one would feel like they were a long way from home.
Those kids, with their thanaka-smiling faces, reminded me of how innocent the world they belonged to was. In a timeless place like Bagan, I was sure we could all return to innocence once in a while and leave all our baggage behind. It was a totally different story, though, for another young boy with spiky hair. He stalked us through our breakfast and social media update moments. He was the polar opposite of the three kids we met.
But hey, the world is full of varying characters. You take the good with the annoying. Too bad he stood out in a different manner than those three kids pictured above. I never smiled in pictures, but I really wanted to smile through my actions. An encounter like that reinforced that resolve. They seemed happy and contented; I felt I should too, and we all had to.
