After we left Yangon (Rangoon), we flew to an area called Bagan. We had to fly everywhere because there are no highways, just one-and-a-half lane dirt roads and no facilities. Myanmar has little to no infrastructure. Now that they have begun to import cars, they will have to build some roads, but they have no earth-moving equipment, only hand tools like picks and shovels and wheelbarrows.
Bagan has a thousand or maybe two thousand ancient temples. But I didn’t see them because I fell sick about an hour after checking in to the hotel. One by one, we all got violently ill. We had a gastroenterologist and an internist traveling with us, and their consensus was Norovirus. It was awful. Guides were sick also. I managed to climb this tower and snap off a photo of the landscape before I hurled and dragged my sorry ass to bed.
You are supposed to rub these statues where you have pain or ills and you will be healed. This woman made sure her baby rubbed every statue (ick). The stuff on their faces is Thanaka, a cosmetic paste made from bark.