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Moulmein

from a visit in January,1999

Nuns line up in front of a store.

The car ferry from Moulmein approaches the dock across the river in Martaban.

The captain of the Moulmein car ferry, with a friend. The lever to move the rudder is broken, so the rope pulls it directly.

Inspecting a curious site, shown below.

This boat has nothing to do with the bamboo beside it. They merely share a narrow waterway in Moulmein.

Schoolchildren in Myanmar must wear green.

A woman shreds coconut fiber in Moulmein.

Coconut fiber is woven into rope for caulking ships' hulls.

Women do the washing at roadside wells throughout Myanmar.

Baths are taken while wearing one's lungi. Once one is clean, a new lungi is slipped overtop, and the wet one is removed and washed.

A group of lepers at the far end of the Moulmein train station. Myanmar.

A Chinese grave.

Deep in the overgrown British cemetary.

Tne hand on the throttle, his feet on the steering wheel, this main pilots the passenger ferry from Moulmein with deft grace.

Fruit vendors sell from one docked boat to another.