Golden Rock, Myanmar

Golden Rock Kyaiktiyo is situated on a cliff of the mountain located 5 hours away from Yangon.  Golden Rock is a holy place for Buddhists.  Hundreds of pilgrims come to the site every day.  The trucks continuously pick-up people to the top of the mountain.  The 40 minute truck ride was fun.  Dangis called it a roller-coaster without safety.  Once we arrived at the top, there were hundreds of people waiting to go down the mountain.  Some of them surrounded our truck and started climbing aboard before us leaving.  It was a challenge to climb out of the truck through all the people and no steps.  The sea of people moved towards the rock.  Once, we entered the ‘no shoes’ area, some people were lounging on the floor in the shade.  Others were burning candles and praying.  Some men were standing in short line to touch the rock.  Only men are allowed to touch the rock.  Dangis joked that the women would probably push the rock of the cliff, if they were allowed.  Once Dangis got close to the rock, he saw men gluing sheets of gold to the rock. 

After taking some pictures of the rock, we went for a walk around the top of the mountain.  All the paths through the mountain were a market.  Besides souvenirs, the sculls, blood and brains of the animals were sold.  The market reminded a witch market in La Paz, Bolivia.  After a few hours walking through the market, we finally made back to the Golden Rock.  We decided to come back down the mountain the same evening with one of the last trucks, even though the Golden Rock was supposed to be beautifully illuminated at night.  We found a guesthouse in the town.  There were so many people everywhere, but locals did not stay in guesthouses.  We saw some of them sleeping on the floor of the bus station.  I believe there were a lot of camp places like that for the visitors to spend the night.  There were only 3 guesthouses and 1 expensive hotel.  The whole town got quiet after 9 pm to rise at 5:30 am the next morning.  The trucks were sending hundreds of pilgrims to the top of the mountain again.  We had a simple breakfast with a Polish tourist playing a guitar and harmonica at the same time.  The locals were taking pictures of him.  Here in Myanmar, it sometimes feels that locals take as many pictures of us, as we of them.