Sunset at the Shwedagon (Journal Excerpt, March, 2000)

[USC]

It's approaching sunset as we proceed down U Wisada Road and the
golden spire of the Shwedagon Pagoda begins to briefly reveal itself
in the distance through the occasional breaks between the trees and
buildings. The road inclines slightly and the area becomes more
wooded with a mix of tall palms and large densely foliaged trees, and
soon the top of the Shwedagon is continually visible above the lush
canopy. As we round the next curve, we see an ornate roof line
ascending upwards like a gold and turquoise strata studded with
steeply-angled gilded spines that appears to merge with the top of the
Shwedagon, with two towering Chinthe (mythical lions) statues silently
standing their protective watch at the base of the impressive
structure that houses the pagoda's Northern stairway. We enter a
small parking area near the Tourist's Entrance, stopping briefly to
hand some kyats the pasoe (sarong)-clad parking attendant. As we exit
the car, we remove our shoes and socks (as one must do when entering
any pagoda or temple compound in Burma) and find that the tarmac is
still quite warm to the touch. We walk up a few steps and head to the
admission counter, where I pay my US (or FEC) $5.00 to enter the
compound (because of my being a foreigner) and receive in return a
colorful receipt depicting the Shwedagon entrance and a blue circular
sticker to place on my shirt pocket as evidence of my payment. To the
left of the counter are the men's and women's restroom, and between
them is a tiled region of flooring with a raised boundary that form a
sort of basin which encloses a single water spicket and a coarse brown
straw mat for washing one's feet after returning from the compound.
We walk to an elevator that takes us up perhaps a few stories,
allowing us a easy walk along a covered corridor in lieu of having to
ascend from the base of the hill via the lengthy enclosed stairway. A
myriad of ain hmyown (a type of small wall-climbing gecko that is
prevalent in Burmese houses and whose name literally translates into
home intruder) are there to witness our progress down the corridor,
most of them clinging motionlessly to the stucco ceiling, though
occasionally one would dart about the ceiling in short frenetic
bursts. We reach the end and step onto the pagoda compound's
platform, where we can now clearly see the upper portion of the
Shwedagon, though the lower portion is presently hidden by a variety
of pavilions, temples and shrines. The platform's floor is a patchwork
of predominantly lighter marble tiles of varying hues accented by
patterns laid out in emerald-gray and russet-red tiles. We turn to
the left and head towards the top of the Northern stairway, which
culminates in a pavilion consisting of large golden pillars supporting
a high multi-tiered roof which features intricate carvings of deep red
set against a backdrop of turquoise tiles, topped with a golden spire
that supports a hti (the Burmese word for umbrella, which refers to
the conical ornament placed at the top of a pagoda, temple, or
pavilion's spire) which brilliantly reflects the warm hues from the
sun now low on the horizon. We pass numerous statues in the form of
chinthe, ogres and nats (spirits), painted predominantly white with
the textured details often highlighted in gold or yellow. Upon
reaching the top of the Northern stairway we proceed to the right,
where I get my first full view of the majestic Shwedagon Pagoda. The
pagoda (Zedi) stands at the end of a path which is lined with gilded
temples, ornate pavilions, and artfully-placed palm trees; the view
seems so familiar, as I have seen it depicted countless times in
painting that hang in the homes of our Burmese friends. 64 smaller
gilded pagodas surround the base of the Shwedagon. The shimmering
melodies of the countless small brass bells that adorn the pagodas as
they sway on a warm breeze and the dulcet tones of massive bronze
bells (the largest of which weighing nearly 42 tons) housed in
colorful pavilions as they are struck three times by the faithful
merge with the sound of young nuns' voices chanting prayers in the
ancient Pali language and the subtle trickling sounds of water as it's
ritualistically poured over the Buddha statues (Phayas) to symbolize
the cleansing of the sole. The air is sweet with the scent of incense
and flowers offered by the worshippers, who kneel with their hands
brought together in prayer before the corner representing their day of
birth, the shrine appropriate to their need, or the shrine dictated by
their circumstances at the guidance of a Beydin Saya (fortune teller),
and then bow three times in a manner symbolic of the three jewels
(refuge in the Buddha, refuge in the teachings of the Buddha, and
refuge in the monks; in the Pali language it translates to Bodda,
Dharma, Sanga.) Numerous monks and nuns serenely walk the terrace
amid the worshippers, tourists, and local folk that have come merely
to enjoy a pleasant evening outdoors. With the afterglow of the
setting sun at our backs, the sky behind the Shwedagon transitions
from a pastel orange on the horizon to a rich blue near the top of the
hti. In the fading light, the flicker of candle flames in front of
the shrines that surround the pagoda becomes more noticeable, and the
lanterns positioned around the pagoda's base and along the perhipery
of the terrace are beginning to light, which alters the shadows and
adds a sense of depth to the carved details of the pagodas and
statues. As darkness continues to descend, the powerful spotlights
angled up at the Shwedagon become discrete white shafts against the
approaching night sky, which converge and envelope the pagoda in an
ethereal glow. As I gaze upon the hti, a large lightly colored bird
with wide wings rises up through the spotlights and circles the pagoda
once before flairing gracefully and gently landing on the edge of the
gilded hti.