Thed of Bagan

Thed has coarse black hair that spikes very purposely at the center and a pearly happy-Buddha grin in a country full of beetle-juice stained teeth. He’s our tour guide and key to the unlocked land of Bagan.

When trying to get our attention, he hollers, “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me!….” This usually falls on the deaf ears of my instagraming-pictures-of-fluffy-emaciated-kittens sister or fighting-Japanese-tourists-for-biggest-lens father or wearing-hearing-aids-but-didn’t-bring-spare-batteries-and-now-can’t-hear mom.

When he is heard ie fluffy cats depart, the Japanese brought their Canon 5D Mark 3, hearing aids cut back in, due to his accent and tone, what the untrained American ear hears is “Choose me! Choose me! Choose me!” with a beckoning hand. We all try to stifle our laughs and match his million-dollar smile.


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