1. The Great Shoe Debate

          My shoe rack back home? Two pairs: sensible black flats for everyday life, and trusty trainers for the gym. Packing for Myanmar? Total shoe-crisis! Black shoes? Forget hiking in those! Trainers? A fashion disaster with my linen trousers. And definitely NO shorts. I wasn't about to look like a tourist gone wild! So, what did Burmese people wear?

          Yangon hit me with a wave of surprise. Very few people wore trousers like me. Women in graceful skirts, men in those elegant “Longyi”, and hardly anyone in socks! Flip-flops and sandals were the norm. Was it poverty? The heat? I was completely wrong......

2. Buddha's got Style (and a Smoking Habit?)

          Myanmar, once a very powerful kingdom, left behind thousands of stunning temples, many still standing. Visiting them wasn't just about prayer; it was about soaking up this incredible history.

          And the Buddhas? Totally chill. Sitting, dancing, lounging. They were ready for a chat. Seriously laid-back. At the Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon, I saw people offering cigarettes to the Buddha! I wasn't expecting that!

          But the Buddhas weren't just chill; they were fashionable! At the same pagoda, I saw Buddhas dressed in traditional clothes from everywhere – China, Korea, Japan, Thailand...... They looked fabulous!

          Then there was the emotional rollercoaster. At the Manuha Temple in Bagan, a giant Buddha was crammed into this tiny, claustrophobic space. The feeling was intense. Was he still brooding about a bad reception when he first arrived? Feeling the weight of the world?

        And the contradictions! At the Dhamayangyi Temple, Buddha was two people, arguing with himself! It made me think, big decisions aren't always simple, are they? Suddenly, my shoe dilemma felt insignificant, but I wondered if even Buddha had a packing crisis once in a while!

          The Myanmar Buddhas? Chill, stylish, emotional, conflicted, and maybe a little mischievous. Knowing city folk are always on guard, always dressed to the nines, even down to their socks and shoes, they had this rule: no shoes allowed.

          My first temple visit with Xiao Miao? She gave me the “No shoes" signal. I wondered if foreigners were given an exception. However, she just calmly took off her own shoes, and I was left to follow suit. No wonder shoes weren't for sale here! Suddenly, I got it: temples were for barefoot deities!

3. Rainbow Robes and the Awakening of the Senses

          Stepping into that shoeless world was...... liberating. Yangon was three temple visits, three shoe-removal sessions. Pagan? Eleven temples in one day! At first, it was a game, on and off with the shoes. But then, I just let go. My bare feet touched the earth, and I felt this incredible connection. The afterlife felt distant, but this moment, this earth beneath my feet, was real. My senses exploded:

          The cool smoothness of granite.

          The soft caress of warm sand.

          The strange mix of hot and cold from the muddy  earth.

       The searing pain of hot asphalt pebbles: a free foot massage, 

I guess!

          I understood why the monks went barefoot. As they walked at dawn, in their vibrant robes, their bowls held high, I thought: bare feet awaken the senses, bringing them closer to life.

   Those robes - Red, orange, yellow, brown, purple, a breathtaking array of colors. I found myself guessing the next monk's robe color, a little game I played with myself.

         “Does the color show their rank?" I asked Ken.
         “Nope!"
         “So why so many colors?"
          “They don't choose. The fabric is donated."

      I wondered what Ken looked like as a novice monk. I wondered what color robe I'd get when I finally gave up everything and went barefoot.

      One thing was certain: I'd never have another shoe crisis again.