I woke up at 5am to stifling heat, silence and pitch black darkness. The air conditioning had gone out again but I was too groggy to care.
I pulled back the curtains, half hoping that the heavy rainstorm from last night hadn’t stopped so I’d have an excuse to stay in bed. It was too dark to see anything but I could feel that the air was utterly still.
Sunsets in Bagan were breathtaking and I could have stayed there for months just to watch the sunset. Sunrise, however, was a different matter because I am not a morning person and no matter what city I was in, my willpower was practically nonexistent.
But on our last day in Bagan, I was determined to watch the sunrise.
My friend woke up and we had a lengthy whispered debate about whether we should get up or not. Maybe it’d be rainy all morning. Maybe the sunrise would be blocked by clouds. Maybe the air conditioning would come back on.
But we eventually dragged ourselves out of bed and onto our rented electric scooter. As we zoomed down the empty roads, a faint pink hue had started tinting the horizon.
When you’re chasing the sun, nothing ever goes smoothly — especially when I’m the one in charge of directions. And most definitely when the rain has turned everything into a mess of slippery mud.
After a mishap due to my incorrect directions, we turned onto the right road but the “roads” were now pits of mud water. Roads that electric scooters carrying two people didn’t do well in.
It doesn’t take long for our scooter to sink into the mud, throwing us both off, and I decide that it’s a good idea to stand behind the scooter so I can push it. Moments later, I was splattered in mud after my friend revved the engines and she was in hysterics, laughing at me.
While all this is happening, the sky is on fire. Brilliant streaks of reds, oranges and fuchsias danced across the sky.
Eventually we managed to push the scooter out with the help of a local boy who was riding by on his motorcycle. We slipped and slid to reach the base of the temple and hurried to the top to catch the last bit of sunrise before the blue skies took over.
As I stood there, out of breath, frazzled and brushing away dried mud, the orange sky effortlessly blended into blue.
First a faint light that cast a golden glow on all the temples and then a soft mist that settled over the surrounding greenery. Everything was still. Then the fog scattered and the sun made its way up. All we heard as we stood there, staring out at the thousands of Buddhist monuments, temples and stupas that decorated the horizon was the orchestra of birds chirping and twittering.
