The "overnight" bus dropped me off at 3 am in the quiet town of Hsipaw, Myanmar. The hotels were locked up for the night, and the tea shops (in which I often took refuge) wouldn't be open for another hour. It was so dark I could barely see my own feet. I finally found my flashlight and to my surprise I spotted a group of young monks marching in a single file line. Unsure of what else to do, I followed. I was led back in time. I found myself in the middle of a bustling marketplace lit only by candlelight. I wandered up and down the aisles of produce, freshly made pancakes, and tasted things along the way. I stayed until the sun came up and the candles blew out. It felt like a dream.