My Pilgrimage to Golden Rock (Mt. Kyaiktiyo)
Places are like people. They're constantly changing.
At different times of day, they feel different.
During my 24 hours on Mt. Kyaiktiyo, I visited the Golden Rock Pagoda three times-- once at mid-day, once at sunset, and once at sunrise. Each time it was like getting to know a different part of a person. And as is often the case with first impressions, by the end, I found myself liking the very things that had turned me off when I first arrived.
I arrived in Kinmun, the little town at the base of Mt. Kyaiktiyo, at 4:00 a.m. Dazed and bleary eyed from an overnight bus ride, the little town was already bustling with activity-- vendors setting up shop, buses dumping off pilgrims, and restaurants packed with people eating breakfast before they headed up. I met two Myanmar recent college grads who helped me buy my return bus ticket and then even insisted on buying me my mohinga for breakfast. Everyone is so generous here. It's like their civic duty to make sure tourists are well cared for.
The students and I started our hike at 5:15 a.m. in the dark. I had really wanted to make my pilgrimage to Kyaiktiyo for the three-day weekend I had for the Christmas holidays, but my expectations had fallen after reading someone else's travel blog that recommended skipping it. We hiked past the flourescent lights of the stalls lining the trail and selling food, walking sticks, drinks, and other bamboo products to the pilgrim hikers. The smell of generators and burning garbage dirtied the air. And the litter on the trail didn't make it a particularly pleasant hike. The seven mile hike was surprisingly difficult, and we reached the top around four hours later.
The scene that greeted me was overwhelming.
There were so many people!
Shoulder to shoulder, I could barely shuffle my way forward. I kept thinking of stories I'd heard about people getting trampled on their way to Mecca. That seemed like a real possibility.
The path leading to the Golden Rock was developed with ugly looking hotels on both sides, and food and trinket stalls. People were posing for photos next to Santa Claus and Mickey Mouse figures. On temple grounds, everyone must remove their shoes. My feet squished in damp spots and started turning black from all of the garbage I was stepping in. Buddhist chanting blared through the loudspeakers. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep followed by a strenuous four-mile hike, but I felt like I finally understood the phrase "assault on the senses."
A peaceful pilgrimage? Any peace I thought I might have had in visiting a religious site for the holidays quickly disappeared as I picked my way through the pilgrims camped out on the stone grounds of the temple. Their straw mats covered every inch of the stone floor. Many had jerryrigged their blankets to shield themselves from the sun. At night, I later saw they used those blankets to cover themselves as they slept.
Golden Rock at Mid-day
At first glimpse, the rock seemed smaller than I had expected.
Maybe it seemed small because it was being dwarfed by the mass of people and large boxy hotels surrounding it.
I circled the rock, feeling tired, hot, sweaty, and disappointed. I dragged my daypack stuffed with my weekend's items. In my eagerness to see the rock, I hadn't bothered to check in to my hotel and drop my bag yet.
Golden Rock at Sunset
After a restful nap in the very nice hotel I had splurged on, I went back out for sunset. The first truck up the mountain arrives after sunrise and the last truck descends before sunset, which I had heard are the best times to be there. So I decided to stay at a hotel on the top of the mountain. All of the hotels on the mountain top are overpriced, so I thought I might as well really splurge and stay at the nicest one. Not sure how sound my reasoning was, but I'm so glad I splurged. Views of the lush valley from my bedroom soothed me to sleep.
I'm also glad that I stayed for sunset and sunrise. If I had zipped up and down for a day trip, I would have missed out on so much, and would have only been disappointed and overwhelmed.
Sunset by the rock felt totally different. Even though there were still as many people, if not more, there was somehow a sense of calm.
Pilgrims lit candles and prayed. The whole place filled with candlelight, prayers, and incense. The chanting seemed meditative as I just stared at the rock. At twilight, the rock seemed to almost glow. It felt like a different place. Or maybe I was more calm?
Golden Rock at Sunrise
I returned to the Golden Rock at 5:30 a.m. so I could see the sunrise. I was surprised to find myself shoulder to shoulder in a mass of people shuffling towards the rock. It felt good to be in this wave of people in the dark, heading to this glowing rock. I wondered if there had been any break in the crowds or whether throughout the night it had been the same steady stream.
It looked and felt surprisingly different from sunset.
Pilgrims laid out offerings of food-- fruit, sticky rice desserts, drinks, cookies. A worker periodically cleared out the food and dumped it all in a big trash can.
It seemed terribly wasteful. I guess I wasn't the only person who thought that.
I watched a woman place a whole package of cookies on the offering table. A mother told her child to take the cookies. He was dirty and looked relatively poor. He bashfully refused and took only a small drink instead. Then I saw a grown man take the cookies. A little girl with a bag was also pocketing bananas and bread. The worker smacked her on the head when he saw her.
The sky lightened with the moon still up. Throughout the morning, an endless stream of pilgrims stuck gold foil on the rock. Only men are allowed to cross the bridge to the rock and touch it. There was also a well-situated prayer platform that was forbidden to women. Monks and common people prayed side by side.
O
At different times of day, they feel different.
During my 24 hours on Mt. Kyaiktiyo, I visited the Golden Rock Pagoda three times-- once at mid-day, once at sunset, and once at sunrise. Each time it was like getting to know a different part of a person. And as is often the case with first impressions, by the end, I found myself liking the very things that had turned me off when I first arrived.
I arrived in Kinmun, the little town at the base of Mt. Kyaiktiyo, at 4:00 a.m. Dazed and bleary eyed from an overnight bus ride, the little town was already bustling with activity-- vendors setting up shop, buses dumping off pilgrims, and restaurants packed with people eating breakfast before they headed up. I met two Myanmar recent college grads who helped me buy my return bus ticket and then even insisted on buying me my mohinga for breakfast. Everyone is so generous here. It's like their civic duty to make sure tourists are well cared for.
The students and I started our hike at 5:15 a.m. in the dark. I had really wanted to make my pilgrimage to Kyaiktiyo for the three-day weekend I had for the Christmas holidays, but my expectations had fallen after reading someone else's travel blog that recommended skipping it. We hiked past the flourescent lights of the stalls lining the trail and selling food, walking sticks, drinks, and other bamboo products to the pilgrim hikers. The smell of generators and burning garbage dirtied the air. And the litter on the trail didn't make it a particularly pleasant hike. The seven mile hike was surprisingly difficult, and we reached the top around four hours later.
The scene that greeted me was overwhelming.
There were so many people!
The path leading to the Golden Rock was developed with ugly looking hotels on both sides, and food and trinket stalls. People were posing for photos next to Santa Claus and Mickey Mouse figures. On temple grounds, everyone must remove their shoes. My feet squished in damp spots and started turning black from all of the garbage I was stepping in. Buddhist chanting blared through the loudspeakers. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep followed by a strenuous four-mile hike, but I felt like I finally understood the phrase "assault on the senses."
At first glimpse, the rock seemed smaller than I had expected.
Maybe it seemed small because it was being dwarfed by the mass of people and large boxy hotels surrounding it.
I circled the rock, feeling tired, hot, sweaty, and disappointed. I dragged my daypack stuffed with my weekend's items. In my eagerness to see the rock, I hadn't bothered to check in to my hotel and drop my bag yet.
Golden Rock at Sunset
After a restful nap in the very nice hotel I had splurged on, I went back out for sunset. The first truck up the mountain arrives after sunrise and the last truck descends before sunset, which I had heard are the best times to be there. So I decided to stay at a hotel on the top of the mountain. All of the hotels on the mountain top are overpriced, so I thought I might as well really splurge and stay at the nicest one. Not sure how sound my reasoning was, but I'm so glad I splurged. Views of the lush valley from my bedroom soothed me to sleep.
I'm also glad that I stayed for sunset and sunrise. If I had zipped up and down for a day trip, I would have missed out on so much, and would have only been disappointed and overwhelmed.
Sunset by the rock felt totally different. Even though there were still as many people, if not more, there was somehow a sense of calm.
I returned to the Golden Rock at 5:30 a.m. so I could see the sunrise. I was surprised to find myself shoulder to shoulder in a mass of people shuffling towards the rock. It felt good to be in this wave of people in the dark, heading to this glowing rock. I wondered if there had been any break in the crowds or whether throughout the night it had been the same steady stream.
It looked and felt surprisingly different from sunset.Pilgrims laid out offerings of food-- fruit, sticky rice desserts, drinks, cookies. A worker periodically cleared out the food and dumped it all in a big trash can.
It seemed terribly wasteful. I guess I wasn't the only person who thought that.
I watched a woman place a whole package of cookies on the offering table. A mother told her child to take the cookies. He was dirty and looked relatively poor. He bashfully refused and took only a small drink instead. Then I saw a grown man take the cookies. A little girl with a bag was also pocketing bananas and bread. The worker smacked her on the head when he saw her.
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| Monks collecting alms |
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On my way out, I passed through the loading area for the trucks headed to the bottom. It was total chaos. Any time a truck pulled up, people mobbed the truck and started climbing in the back even before it had stopped.
I watched as a group of nuns were unable to catch a bus because they were not aggressive enough. I kept an eye on them as they walked up and down looking to board a truck until, like everyone else, they made a mad dash for a truck that was still moving and managed to climb on. Good thing I was walking down because I don't think I would have been able to catch one either!
The nuns laughed as they successfully clambered up the back of the truck.
By the time I left on Sunday mid-day, the pilgrims that had been camped out were thinning. The weekend was coming to an end. The place felt empty to me without all of the people on top of each other. I suddenly missed the feeling of life everywhere.
I watched as a group of nuns were unable to catch a bus because they were not aggressive enough. I kept an eye on them as they walked up and down looking to board a truck until, like everyone else, they made a mad dash for a truck that was still moving and managed to climb on. Good thing I was walking down because I don't think I would have been able to catch one either!
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| Nuns patiently trying to catch a truck |
By the time I left on Sunday mid-day, the pilgrims that had been camped out were thinning. The weekend was coming to an end. The place felt empty to me without all of the people on top of each other. I suddenly missed the feeling of life everywhere.
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