The sound of a giant egg beater makes me look up from my book. And it looks like that’s exactly what is attached to the little boat dashing past on the busy Ayerawady River. Our vessel, the Amapura, an elegantly appointed cruise boat, attracts enthusiastic waves from every passing craft. Continue reading →
The relentless sun shimmering on gold temples, the inevitable dust and sand at the end of the dry season, the difficulty of coping in a language so foreign to me that even after a week, I can’t easily remember simple phrases – these are the impressions I have taken away from Myanmar. Continue reading →
Shlomo is a happy man. He serves me a strong cup of his own roasted coffee. His grandfather, a Yemenite immigrant in the early 1900s, started this little roastery in Carmel Market. But Shlomo is likely to be the last of his family to roast and sell coffee.