When I asked Aung how many times he had been a monk, he told me he had donned the robes about four times.

Astonished, my travel companion and I asked him how long it had been for each time. "Oh, for a few months, I suppose," he said with a smile, and added: "It's a good way to get away from the family."

Aung is a well-respected doctor in Yangon, Myanmar. He is a dedicated family man with a lovely wife and a beautiful daughter training to be a teacher. He loves them dearly, and is obviously joking about leaving his family. But he is very serious about his Buddhist religion, as are some 80 per cent of his fellow countrymen.

Buy a gold leaf to share merit

This is evident from the numerous huge, gold-plated pagodas dotting the skyline wherever you go in any town, the monks walking the streets in file to collect their breakfast at dawn and the way religious-giving is part of life in Myanmar. This country, formerly known as Burma, does not just subscribe to its religion - it lives it.

I have visited Yangon in the past, but the surprises I have had then - the wonderful wide boulevards, amazingly elegant people and breathtaking grandeur of Shwedagon Pagoda - all came back again as fresh as ever.

Yangon is a city of subdued bustle and noises. The hooting of birds and the smell of woodsmoke greet you at breakfast, not the roar of traffic and howl of sirens. The man sweeping leaves outside the hotel smiles and nods a "good morning". The taxi driver who speaks virtually no English agrees happily to take us to Scott's market for just US$3 (S$4.60) - a ride that would cost US$20 or more in Singapore.

At the market, we tread the tiny alleyways with stalls that sell raw precious stones, pearls, beautiful jewellery, clothes, exotic umbrellas, woodcrafts and more. It is a tourist shoppers' heaven. The casual way the shopkeepers wave strings of gems worth hundreds, or maybe thousands of dollars, is unnerving at first.

A jewel shop entices big and small customers

Then you realise that everybody in the market, not matter how poorly dressed, is selling things. No touts and no petty crooks looking for a quick buck.

Myanmar exudes a feeling of gentle goodness everywhere.

Even the beggars, some are street children, are shooed gently away so that they do not bother the tourists. We give them some money anyway. It is what the local people do.

A monk watching birds to be released for good luck

A young girl selling live birds comes up to me and shyly presses a quivering finch into my hand - for me to release.

I open my hand and it flies off, bringing credit to all of us. When I turn back to the girl, she smiles and shakes her head. The bird is a gift.

Giving is a way of life in Myanmar, a way to gain credits for spirituality not just for yourself, but for the whole world.

In Shwedagon's huge and colourful multi-tiered courtyard, people can be seen banging 10m-high bronze bells with wooden hammers. They are sounding to the other devotees that they have just given money to the pagoda, and are wishing for merits for everyone who hears the bell. One person gives and everyone benefits.

Women in the ancient city of Bagan often wear turbans

This generosity of spirit has endowed Myanmar with a cultural heritage that is both astounding and alive.

The huge temples are full of worshippers, perfume and fresh flowers. The streets are full of monks, who, like Aung, devote part of their lives to the spiritual good of the whole community.

If you want to go to a country to see huge monuments of rich rulers, relics from past imperial glories and impressive houses built by successful barons of industry, give Myanmar a miss.

Even royal palaces, like those in Mandalay, are made of wood, just two-storey high and with minimal use of gold.

A smartly-dressed Myanmar woman

The real beauty of the country lies in the temples, monasteries, libraries and religious shrines that sound continuously with the ringing of credits, the giving of goodness to others.

Give yourself a treat and discover the real wealth of Myanmar.