a century ago, when kipling's poem "mandalay" was beckoning the overheated imaginations of a generationould buy fine egyptian cigarettes, french liqueurs. the floor tiles were shipped over from manchester. now, people live here. a half-century as a pariah state has left very few of these buildings in good repair. and there are divergent views on whether to preserve them. for many, a reminder of colonial subjugation. for others, a vestige of a golden time. these days in myanmar in the streets, on the docks, it's all about moving forward. in an economy ripe to explode if things continue trending in their current direction, the busy hustle and bustle of yangon's port appears even busier today as workers prepare for the oncoming holiday. >> philippe: hey, chef. >> anthony: hello. >> philippe: how are you doing? >> anthony: it figures, doesn't it? >> philippe: yeah, it does. welcome to myanmar. >> anthony: philippe lajaunie, owner/proprietor of my old restaurant, les halles. it seems only natural that, uh, you'd bee in burma, myanmar, at the same time as me. back before anything, before i wr