At first sight (and second, and third), Yangon seemed to me the land of the Lungyis, these sarongs worn with a knot on the front by the men, and gracefully, with side-ties and invisible zips, by the women. I love it when the people of a country don their traditional clothing in their daily lives, instead of the drab Western gear most of us in Asia seem to have adopted. Students and office goers all wear Lungyis in Yangon– a garment that makes such elegant sense in the heat and dust. That’s not to say that jeans hasn’t made inroads here: loved the men wearing Lungyis holding hands with women in tight-fitted jeans.
For three and a half long hours, he tried to take his Selfies, with a focus to rival a fishing stork. Only he didn’t remain still except to pose. He kept skipping and scampering across the sand and splashing into the water, busier than a seagull, and possibly livelier.
I’m cruel. I guess so is my family.
For all that time, we snickered and smiled, and I took pictures.
Here, I bring you the man on his quest for the Perfect Selfie. (I hope he got it, because he did jump and preen and posture long enough to make himself dizzy with heatstroke.)