The street food of Yangon

The street food of Yangon is very diver­se, today we try ever­y­thing that is not nai­led.  By the way, chick­peas are the main ingre­di­ent in almost every dish. They are ser­ved on fried dough, with quail egg and no egg with other stran­ge ingre­di­ents or fal­a­fel with inde­fi­nable con­tent and soup, ser­ved on the dir­tie­st pla­te in the world. Any­way, clo­se your eyes and get through it.

Then we have Shan nood­les in dif­fe­rent varie­ties and a stea­m­ed roll with pork, then the­re are pan­ca­kes with and wit­hout chick­peas but with lots of sugar and a real­ly inde­fi­nable drink, which first has a san­dy con­sis­ten­cy and then such small red pearls that look like fish eggs. I sin­ce­re­ly hope they’­re not.

Final­ly, we lea­ve the evening with a sin­ful­ly expen­si­ve coc­tail on the roof of the Saku­ra Tower. From here we have a fan­ta­stic view of the Swe­d­a­gon and the Sule Pago­da. A won­derful last evening in Yangon befo­re hea­ding back to cold Germany.

On the one hand, I’m a litt­le sad we’­re lea­ving Myan­mar behind. I have taken so many impres­si­ons and gre­at expe­ri­en­ces with me in the last 3 weeks and I will pro­ba­b­ly tell some sto­ries in 30 years. The bal­loon fes­ti­val in Taung­gyi is cer­tain­ly one such expe­ri­ence. It is by far the most dan­ge­rous thing I have ever expe­ri­en­ced, but no 10 hor­ses would stop me from get­ting back the­re. But also the incre­di­bly fri­end­ly peo­p­le I met here make this coun­try uni­que. Peo­p­le who invi­te me to their wed­ding, incre­di­bly fri­end­ly peo­p­le waving at me, eye­bal­ling me in dis­be­lief and want to make sel­fies with me. This is cer­tain­ly not the case in every coun­try. On the other hand, I’m also loo­king for­ward to home. As soon as I’m in Ger­ma­ny, I’ll put in three days of cheese.

The end.

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