Yangon

My, oh my, Myanmar, your faces haunt me. Only half a day in this country and already I am enchanted by the saffron-robed monks with umbrellas armed to guard against the heat, with the men walking in traditional longyi, a unisex sarong, and with the radiant women and children adorned with thanakha, a yellow sandlewood paste worn as make-up/conditioner/sunscreen.