Meg Noble Peterson

Greetings from Myanmar (formerly known as Burma), and from the best little guest house in Yangon, The Motherland Inn (2). Friendly, helpful, clean, you name it,
they have it…and all for from $7 a night, breakfast included. See,
all you people who thought I was extravagant. You really can’t beat
these prices and can have a huge meal for about a dollar. The other
night, after spending the afternoon at the bazaar, four of us decided
to stop in the Moslem section of town to try their food. We walked in
rather late at night, sat down, and immediately were served a large
bowl of rice apiece. We thought…oh, well, this is a complimentary
appetizer. No. Along came excellent dal in small bowls. So we poured
the dal on the rice and started in with the chopsticks. More dal
arrived. We hadn’t even ordered! Soon we had each had consumed four
dals and more rice. Every time we finished something another helping
would appear. Finally we couldn’t eat any more and asked for the
check. It came to 25 cents per person in Myanmar money (that’s about
1250 kyats). We left, scratching our heads. Were they just trying to
use up the dal or what? When I saw the rice fields some days later,
and people leaning over harvesting by hand, I wondered how they could
ever sell this food for so little. All the farming, as with any
construction, is backbreaking work. Done by hand.

This town is a sprawling collection of ethnic areas. Just walking to
the center we go through Moslem, Hindu, and Buddhist enclaves, each
with its own food and flavor. Even photographs can’t capture the
charm and the smells, some of them good and others, well…there’s a
garbage problem here…but that’s pretty true throughout Asia.

There are very few cars and all of them old, emitting clouds of
exhaust. Gas is rationed at 2 gallons a day in the city and 6 gallons
a week in the country. For those who want more, you can find little
stands of gas in quart bottles around town. My favorite shot was a
seller of old mufflers, each muffler hanging on the branch of a low
tree. Incense was burning inside one of the mufflers.

I’ve gone to the usual sites here in town, like the great golden
pagoda, Shwedagon Paya, and the incredible markets where you can buy
jewelry, textiles, optics, anything for pennies compared to the U.S.
If only I had room in my pack!!

On Wednesday I headed for the famous pilgrimage spot, The Golden Rock
(Kyaiktiyo). Getting there was an adventure in itself, from the local
bus to Bago, to being packed into open air trucks (50 to a truck)
going up a bumpy, winding, hairpin-curved road in the middle of a
bamboo forest…perfect for those who didn’t get enough of roller
coasters as a child. Then came the 5-miles walk to the rock. I was
followed by several men carrying litters and hoping that I would drop
before reaching the top. If it hadn’t been so funny, it would have
been annoying. They just wouldn’t quit, even quoting “five dollars
only” until the very end. Can’t wait to show you the pictures.

Kinpun, where we stayed before and after the rock, had the usual jolly
market place, with a few good restaurants, all open on all sides,
abutting the main walkway. I was there with three friends from Whidbey
Island, with whom I connected at the Motherland–Lee Compton, Yana
Viniko, and Dale Reiger. We made quite a foursome. Dale, being 6ft.
4″ was always easy to find and when I arrived in Bago I simply asked
at the bus station where the tall man and his friends went. That’s
how we connected each time.

Just before we left to return to Bago, we were eating in the Sea Sar
Restaurant, when cameras appeared, followed by a massive crowd of
squealing young people, and buses packed to overflowing with people
hanging off the back had stopped to watch…all because two movie
stars were going to shoot a scene at the restaurant. People seem the
same everywhere. They love celebrities! It so happened that we were a
backdrop (unpaid extras) in both scenes, which was quite amusing. We
did a little horsing around to liven things up. It will probably be
cut, but we had fun!

We opted for a taxi drive both ways from Bago to Kinpun, and this gave
us time to photograph the landscape, a plethora of water buffalo with
their young, and my favorite wooden-wheeled wagon drawn by two
bullocks. Shades of the Middle Ages. It was like traveling back in
time. Everybody, including the monks, let us take pictures (we always
asked first, then showed the subject the pictures, which delighted
them, especially the children). I’m saving conversations and
observations until later. I just wanted to touch base with you all and
tell you what an amazing, delightful country this is.

Next week I head for Taungoo, a little off the beaten track, to see
some elephant farms, if possible. It will take about 8 hours by bus,
and I want to divide up my trip to Kalaw, which I’ll do at the end of
the week. Will write more about that and the trek around Inle Lake
after it happens. In the meantime, I hope Jersey enjoys its first
snow. Think of me slathered with sunscreen.

I'm off to the airport to see what I imagine is a very

different Asia. Will write when I get a chance.

Meg

Wow! My first blog of the New Year and what a lovely year it is…so far. I’ve just returned from a whirlwind trip to Pinkham Notch at the base of Mt. Washington in Gorham, NH, where I gave a slide presentation to 60 local enthusiasts who attended the International Dinner of the Appalachian Mountain Club. This year it was Cuisine of Nepal, so I was a logical speaker. But the food, itself, was worth the trip—never did I eat that well in Nepal—as was the sight of a sunrise over snow-capped Mt. Washington and weather crisp and clear, though not snowy enough to satisfy the skiers and ice climbers. I’m indebted to Lynne Warrin, with whom I co-authored the play, Thank You, Dear, and who stepped in to act as projectionist at the last minute. But she’s a nature lover, too, so it wasn’t too big a sacrifice!

On the return trip I visited the family cottage on Lake Winnipesaukee, usually covered with snow and the lake totally frozen, but now looking like the summer without leaves—complete with rippling water and pine needles. How can that be? We also stopped to see my sister, Anne Magill, and husband, Frank, who have just moved into a spacious condo in the woods of Keene, NH. from their home in Peterborough. It’s laughable that all these New Englanders, who have groaned about the snow and the shoveling over the years are now worried to death that global warming is destroying their winter wonderland. I’m sorry it’s so mild as well, for I was looking forward to a blessed contrast when I hit Myanmar and the tropical forests. Who wants to leave a spring-like New Jersey when the crocuses are poking up their heads to see what’s going on?

The year is coming to an end and I’m frantically pulling together loose ends in preparation for my departure for Asia on January 11, 2007. I haven’t a clue where I’ll end up, since I haven’t had time to do anything but scan books on Burmese history, some of Aung San Suu Kyi’s writings during her house arrest in the years before and after she won the Nobel Prize for Peace (1991), and a cursory glance at three travel guides—Myanmar, India, and the Indian Himalaya. I think paper will be the heaviest item in my pack. After years of collecting clippings about these countries I’m hoping to see as many sites as three months will allow. Do follow this blog as I report my adventures. I may have to wait a month until I leave Myanmar, however, since it is a repressive dictatorship and there may not be many internet cafes. But I shall see….

Christmas would not be so festive without the annual gingerbread-house-making party at daughter Martha’s home, enjoyed by neighborhood friends and family. This year it was on December 23, later than usual, which kept several families from making the trip to Maplewood. But we still have some fabulous specimens to show you.
(click here for pictures)

I just received a call from son Robert and his wife, Gwen, who are excited to see the fruits of their labors (and Tom’s) with the almostGOLF ball over the past two years. It has resulted in rapid growth this holiday season and an expansion of sales into stores like Dick’s Sporting Goods. All you golfers, catch their website at: www.almostgolfball.com

Tomorrow is the opening of the new HannaSomatics office at 89 Franklin St. in Tribeca between Broadway and Church, which will be managed by daughter Martha Peterson, a certified Somatics therapist. I’m excited about attending the first movement workshop, co-led by Martha and Steve Aronstein, the founding Director and President of the Somatics Systems Institute. For more information on this revolutionary therapy visit www.somaticsnj.com

Over the past year I’ve given many slide presentations and readings about “Madam,” which are not mentioned in this blog, but can be viewed on my website under “Meg on Tour.” I could not have done this without the help of a dear friend, Paul Sharar, who became my “projectionist” and advisor during these sessions. In the future I intend to expand these lectures to include past trips to Prague, Tibet, Indochina, and Southeast Asia, areas not covered in my most recent book.

I finally met Beth Whitman, a charming fellow adventurer from Seattle who has just completed her book, Wanderlust and Lipstick: The Essential Guide for Women Traveling Solo. Beth has been an inspiration to me and even put one of my anecdotes in her book. Do check out her very informative blog and website at www.forwomentravelingsolo.com Like me, she will be traveling in Asia this January.

I was privileged to play in two concerts of the Plainfield Symphony (Brahms’ Second Symphony and a night of stunning opera music being two of my favorites) in which I’ve been a member of the violin section for forty-six years. Hard to believe! We’re still going strong and will celebrate the twentieth anniversary of our present maestro, Sabin Pautza, this coming May. Just playing under such an exciting, innovative conductor makes all the practicing worthwhile!

I also kept up my theater diet with such excellent productions as Tina Howe’s Birth and After Birth, Bhutan, My Name Is Rachel Corrie, Butley (with Nathan Lane), The Little Dog Laughed, Dai, The Drowsy Chaperone, The Spelling Bee, The Times They Are A’Changin.’ Grey Gardens, and Heartbreak House  There were a couple of turkeys, which will remain nameless. And there was some good opera, thanks to my niece, Margaret Magill, who plays with the Met orchestra. And, as always, excellent chamber music.

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On September 2 my second daughter, Martha, was married to Gary Shippy in the garden of her home in Maplewood, NJ. Martha had been tending her extensive garden and adding plants and flowers guaranteed to be in bloom at just the right time. And then came the hurricane. I can’t remember which one, but it brought several days of rain, abating only on Sept. 3, the day after the wedding. Fortunately, Martha has two industrious brothers, Robert and Tom, and a tent was quickly erected, which, I thought, made the wedding even more cozy and intimate. It certainly was a gala affair, punctuated by thunder and lightening and the hypnotic drone of water—a small wedding with members of the immediate family, but with just the Shippy and Peterson clans combined, it was anything but small! After the reception there was music and dancing. Gary’s band, Walk The Dog, performed, as well as several other combos, all friends of the bride and groom, and all excellent. I demolished the lawn dancing with Joe Buck as the guitars wailed and Gary tore into the drums. What a day! What an evening! A truly happy time.(click here for pictures)

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I was honored to read at the wedding of my dear friend, Anne Quarles, and her partner Trudi Williams, at St. Bartholomew’s Church on Park Avenue in New York City. What a gala two-day affair it was, ending with dinner and dancing at the Tavern on the Green in Central Park.