Myanmar was a really different, fascinating, and fun experience for us. We decided that the only way to really do it justice on the blog was to describe every day. So...sorry that it's not the Reader's Digest version, but I tried to keep it as concise as possible.A word on the Burma/Myanmar distinction:
Before we left for Myanmar we called it Burma because that is the name that Aung San Suu Kyi and her blacklisted National League for Democracy party prefer, so it is sort of the PC name to use. But before the British named it Burma it was called Myanma, and the current government changed the name back to Myanmar to get as far away from the vestiges of colonialism as possible (it seems like this may be the only somewhat sensible change they made). We hardly ever heard or saw the name Burma in our 25 days there...so I think we will remember it as Myanmar. Anyway, this is what we did there...
11 August--Arrived in Yangon (Rangoon) airport and decided to go with a nice guy from the Motherland Inn because he offered a free ride. Pouring rain out as we drove through Yangon in the Inn's shabby 20 year old mini van (Tink's cousin?). They gave us a nice big breakfast at the inn, then we hit the hay for a few hours of rest. I went out for a little walk later through the crumbling neighborhood streets. A bit of culture shock. Dirtier than Hanoi. Ancient cars. Men in skirts (called longyi). Lots of bad teeth, stained with blood-red betel nut juice. Felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. One guy must have seen the culture shock in me and said, Hey friend, don't worry. So I waived and smiled back and tried to keep my chin up the rest of the way.
12 August--Not a big day. Julie was feeling under the weather with a cold. We rallied our energy for a long walk into central Yangon for lunch. I started to feel much more used to Yangon, and we walked through some areas that were a little more lively. We returned stares and smiles and usually got big smiles and Hellos in return.
13 August--Today we ventured out to one of the big markets for some shopping. We wanted to get some school supplies and small gifts to give to people during our travels. Myanmar is so poor that little things like pens and pencils can go a long way. We were disappointed to find that this market had more clothes, gemstones, and beauty products than school supplies, but a nice kid really wanted to help us and he brought us to a shop where we loaded up. I also got a longyi and we picked up an umbrella to combat the frequent downpours. Then we went to a bookshop that had old and new Newsweeks and Economists which we bought to give away to people since they are often starved for English reading material and international news.
14 August--Went down to breakfast in my new longyi and a guy at the inn called me "Myanmar Man" in approval. We met an Australian guy at breakfast and shared a taxi with him to Yangon's most famous sight, Shwedagon pagoda. It's a massive golden pagoda and somewhat of a "mecca" for Myanmar's Buddhists (about 90% of the population). We would soon see that golden pagodas in Myanmar are about as dense as Starbucks in Seattle, but the Shwedagon is really quite impressive and its umbrella at the top is covered in diamonds and other jewels, which you can see with telescopes around the base of the pagoda. A highlight was meeting a friendly monk who gave us a little tour and blessed us in front of the pagoda. He showed us how to pour water over a Buddha shrine for good luck. Later, we headed downtown to buy bus tickets to a town called Taungoo, where we would go the next day, then walked through central Yangon back to the inn. I got lots of laughs, smiles, and comments about my longyi. And of course Julie got the usual curiosity due to her height and blonde hair, but finally I had a distinguishing characteristic--white guy in a longyi.
15 August--Took the bus to Taungoo in the morning. The normally 6-7 hour ride took about 10 due to serious flooding about 1-2 hours from Yangon. People were wading sometimes up to their wastes, or paddling canoes. Luckily the bus guys grabbed our bags from the undercarriage and brought them into the bus so they didn't get soaked. Thanks to a few locals on the bus who could speak a smidgen of English, we were able to figure out approximately where to get off, then hired a trishaw driver (bicycle rickshaw with two passenger seats) to pedal us to the guest house. The guest house was owned by the lovely Dr. Aye, a retired local doctor who made us feel very at home in her teak house. The room had an awesome view of mountains, rice paddies, and toddy palms. Over dinner Dr. Aye was not shy to give us the lowdown on Myanmar politics, our first real insights about the country from a local. With a broad smile and lots of little chuckles, she told us of the blatant oppression, censorship, propaganda, and corruption people face everyday. Funding for healthcare and education is laughable, and people are suppressed by poverty, poor education, and fear of dissent. But most people know they are deceived, and some are surprisingly well informed because they listen to the Voice of America (in Burmese) or watch satellite TV if they are wealthy enough to afford the extortionate fees charged by the government for this "privilege". Covert journalism keeps people (and the rest of the world) informed about things like the protests last year and Cyclone Nargis back in May. Government TV news is little more than a silly facade of things like the achievements of the military, generosity of the government, and religious merits of government officials.
16 August--Didn't sleep much thanks to all-night prayers over the loudspeaker from the local monastery (monks on the mic). But Dr. Aye made up for it and served a massive breakfast of various fruits (all grown on her property), curries, and chapatti (Indian style flatbread). More talk of politics. Then we hopped into her pick up truck and drove into town to her son's guest house. He's a doctor himself and he sometimes goes to remote villages to give free medical treatment. We wanted to donate some money (actually money from a friend who inspired us to go to Myanmar) to his cause. But he wasn't there yet, so Dr. Aye gave us some bikes to use for the day and we rode down to the town lake and walked out onto a small bridge. There were a bunch of kids and young men swimming and jumping off the bridge and we quickly attracted their curiosity. Julie had wisely brought a bag of ballons, which were an instant hit (floatation devices!), and meanwhile I got out the phrasebook and tried to converse with one of our new friends. It mainly involved pointing to the Burmese script in the book when my pronunciation elicited puzzled looks. Some of the kids were keen to show off their jumping skills when Julie brought out the camera. They loved seeing the pictures of themselves on the LCD screen. It was a jolly good time, but eventually we said goodbye and rode our bikes back to Dr. Chan's place. He was there and we went up to his office to look at his pictures of trips to remote villages, then we offered our donation. Rode back towards the guest house for lunch and got lots of laughs, Hellos, and Hey Misters. My bike chain kept falling off and one guy rushed up to help me with it. Really nice folks.
17 August--A better night of sleep and another killer breakfast. A warm goodbye from Dr. Aye and a ride to the train station with Dr. Chan. Then we waited in the station for the three-hour late train to Thazi. Early on in the train ride, a young monk in his 20s approached us and asked if he could sit down and chat with us. He asked the couple sitting across from us if he could have their seat and they reluctantly squeezed aside to let the him in. We gave them apologetic looks. For the rest of the train ride we had a strained conversation mostly about his aspirations to go to America to make money to send home to his family. We encouraged him to try to go (the US is after all supposedly allowing in more Burmese refugees) yet at the same time explained to him that it would probably be costly, time consuming, and not easy. He didn't seem to quite grasp this but he was really eager and even tried to impress us by singing some Christian hymn. But we exchanged addresses and told him to email us (through a friend) with any questions. Meanwhile, we also attracted the attention of a weird guy that gave us both the creeps, hovering next to us staring and grinning. Eventually we realized that actually he was harmless and just really curious and could speak a bit of English. The poor guy had some sort of disability that made him a little creepy, and the monk explained to us that he was a "nit wit". It was all rather strange and we were happy when we finally arrived in Thazi. Spent the night in a basic little guest house that hadn't seen more than a handful of travellers in the past three months.
18 August--Met another crazy monk at breakfast. But this guy was crazier. He walked up with his alms bowl and the owner of the guesthouse gave him a banana. He had thickly applied pink lipstick smeared widely around his lips, and his eyebrows were painted with thick black lipstick. Around his neck he wore Mardi Gras-style beads and his long fingernails were painted red. With a broad smile he told us that he was rich and had a large bank account in Singapore. Then he pointed to the paintings above us and said that he made them, and that in fact he was the woman dancer in one of them. Then he ranted a little in Burmese and said a few unintelligable things in English. We looked to the guest house owner for translation and he said You do realize he is a madman. All of us, the monk included, had a big laugh, and Julie and I would laugh about this for days. The guest house owner helped us get on a bus to Kalaw, a cool mountain town about 4 hours from Thazi. My favorite memory of the trip was of a beautiful girl who I shared a smile with when she had to put her hand on my arm to let another passenger cram into the bus. My next memory is of her vomiting into a bag next to me. It was a long and windy road.
19 August--Met an Australian guy named Jason at our guesthouse in Kalaw and shared a taxi with him to a nearby town called Pindaya, known for its impressive natural cave filed with Buddha shrines. We also walked around the big market there where people were selling loads of vegetables, stinky dried fish, eels on a stick, and other exotic foods. We met an antique stand owner who spoke some English and mumbled on and on about Myanmar politics. He told us that he used to work for the government railroad and had recently been let off a 6 year prison sentence for participating in a labor strike. We exchanged addresses and gave him a pack of cards. Later, we went to a Shan paper workshop where they showed us how they make paper from mulberry bark. Most of it they use to make paper parasols. We should have bought one, they were really nice, but instead we bought a blank book for a journal.
20 August--Today we set out on a three day trek from Kalaw to Inle Lake. Jason the Australian was with us, and our guide was a man named Robin. A man of Punjabi Indian heritage (many Indians and Nepalis came to Burma in Her Majesty's service back in the old colonial days), he wore a turban and spoke excellent English. He does the trek to Inle Lake all the time and is very knowledgeable about the hill tribe peoples and medical plants, so we learned quite a bit. The first day we did about 22 km and saw many tribes people along the way...all farmers, picking tea leaves, working rice paddies, herding cattle. Robin told us that while they can choose most of what they farm (but not necessarily where), everyone is required by the government to produce certain quantities of castor oil. We stopped at the home of some Palaung people for some home-grown tea, then at the local school where one teacher was in charge of 80 students. We donated a world map and some other little things. We learned from Robin (Dr. Aye had told us the same) that Myanmar teachers get paid the equivalent of about $30 per month--hardly enough for a decent living. That night we stayed in the home of the mayor/chief of a small (about 30 people) village. It was actually a pretty nice place, two stories and made of concrete...most other families live in raised bamboo houses. No electricity, which made for a great candle-lit dinner made by our cook Myin-So. The mayor's wife had found some wild mushrooms, a real treat that she shared with us. I told her they were the best mushrooms I had ever tasted, and when Robin translated she went back down stairs and came up with another bowl. What a meal!
21 August--The next day was a long one, about 28 km. Met lots more farmers along the way, and stopped for lunch at a Pa-O village home. We were really psyched when we arrived at the monastery where we would spend the night, a typically old and beautiful teak building. We were welcomed by the super friendly head monk--a "modern monk" who greeted Julie with a handshake, usually taboo for devout monks. Had bucket showers and then another great meal from Mying-So. The head monk said that they usually don't run the generator at night but since we were there it was a special occasion. The young monks crowded around the TV and watched a movie while we had our dinner outside on the porch.
22 August--Awoke to the sound of monks chanting their blessings early in the morning...much better than the usual roosters or stray dogs. This was the shortest day and we went mostly downhill to Inle Lake. Then we had to take a boat from the southern end of the lake to the town of Nyaungshwe at the northern end. Beautiful lake with mountains on either side. We got to see the unique leg-rowing technique the locals use to propel their canoes, and also the conical fishing nets they use to trap fish in shallow water, then jab spears through the holes to stab them to death. In Nyaungshwe we said farewell to Robin and Mying-So.
23 August--Explored Nyaungshwe a little, then went on a canoe ride down the local canals, ending up at a monastery to watch the sunset. Had dinner at a place run by a really eager to please guy who made tasty homemade pasta, a rare treat in Myanmar but apparently all the rage in Nyaungshwe which is one of the few touristy towns in the country.
24 August--Took a bus all the way back to Thazi early in the morning. I wouldn't have been surprised if we hadn't made it there at all in the ancient mini bus, but somehow we rolled into Thazi after about eight hours. Then we caught the train, late as usual, to Mandalay, and arrived there at about 11pm.
25 August--Mandalay is the second largest city in Myanmar and we found it a bit nicer than Yangon. Of course, some of the nice touches are thanks to forced labor at places like the Royal Palace, which we avoided visiting. But we did go to Mandalay hill later in the day for some great views of the city. Hired a really cool trishaw driver who spoke great English and had university aspirations but little money. He asked me if the government will help pay for university in the US, which it does not do in Myanmar, and told me I was lucky to be born in America. I can only imagine his frustration. On Mandalay Hill we met an Australian doctor who had been working in the Irrawaddy delta for Medicins Sans Frontiers (Doctors Without Borders) and she told us a bit about the post-cyclone situation there. They hadn't had to deal with any major illnessess and the real problem was simply lack of food and starvation for many. She said it is likely to get worse if more help is not given. After Mandalay Hill, she went with us to dinner at a barbecue restaurant where you pick your skewers for grilling. Then we went to the local marionette theater for a show. Great music.
26 August--Today we went to the nearby ancient city of Amarapura, which is most famous for its 1km long teak bridge. We took the typical local public transport--a pickup truck with bench seats with an impossible number of people crammed in (and out). Other than a woman drooling on my shoulder it was fun and the people gave us big smiles. When we got dropped off in Amarapura we stumbled upon one of the famous nat festivals, which happen around this time each year. Nats are spirits people celebrate and pay their respects to through music and dance. Dancers are thought to become possessed with the spirits and are respected as mediums through which the nats communicate. We met a guy there who works as a tour guide and an English teacher (but we could barely understand him half the time) and he took us to his home and then to a tea shop where we had the best tea (made with sweet condensed milk) along with samosas and donut-like things filled with coconut and sugar. He told us how the goverment will sometimes demand his service as an English interpreter without payment. Meanwhile they charge absurd amounts of money for his tour guide license. He pointed us towards the teak bridge, which we didn't find that amazing but it was fun nonetheless, especially when some Burmese girls asked if they could have their picture taken with us on the bridge (I bet Julie's blonde hair was the attraction). Few people in Myanmar have cameras but there are lots of photographers hanging out at touristy places...and they paid for photos with us. Ha! That night we went to see the famous Moustache Brothers perform, but they didn't have enough people so we just hung out for a bit and chatted with the wild and crazy Mr. Lu Maw. The Brothers troupe used to perform comedy and dance shows in Burmese, but one of the brothers went to prison three separate times for a total 7 years for making fun of the government (once at a party at Aung San Suu Kyi's house). So now they are blacklisted by the government but somehow get away with doing shows in English to foreigners only. Lu Maw was a riot and rattled off his collection of jokes, idioms and American slang.
27 August--Instead of taking the dreaded bus, we splurged on a share taxi ride to a town called Hsipaw in Shan State. Arrived after about 5 hours and went to a tea shop for lunch (a whole feed of sweet milk tea and samosas for about a dollar for both of us), then explored the town a bit. Walked through the town market and were startled to meet a big white guy from Hawaii. We talked about how there couldn't be more than 500 foreigners in the whole country, if that. Good for us but bad for the Burmese people dependent on traveller's dollars.
28 August--After breakfast we had an interesting chat with the guest house owner's son. We talked politics and he enlightened us a bit more on the different kinds of attitudes in Myanmar. He said some are adamant about the need for change, some choose to side with the government and get government or military jobs so they have a chance at a decent living, and some are either uneducated or simply choose to ignore the problems. He explained to us that some people are complacent even when the government does them wrong because, as Buddhists, they feel that any misfortune they encounter in life is the result of bad karma from previous lives and they must deserve it. He gave us the example of local people who were forced to move and lose their homes without any compensation when the government built new roads. Another Buddhist quality that keeps people from forcing change is the concept of freedom from desire; the Buddha taught that the root of all suffering is desire. So to constantly desire change can be counter productive for a serious Buddhist. But of course, it has usually been the monks who have been the most outspoken against the current regime, so the religion is not totally crippling in this sense. But it was interesting to think about Myanmar's problems from a Buddhist perspective.
Afterwards, we rented bikes and rode to the nearby Shan villages to donate the rest of our supplies to two different schools. At the first school the teachers were taking a break and welcomed us for some tea. We gave them a world map and were amazed at their limited knowledge of geography. They thought that South America was part of the US. They offered us a little corn and sugar snack that looked potentially dangerous, and we initially refused but then politeness overcame reason and I ate quite a bit of it. Bad idea. On the ride back I knew I was getting sick and the heat was overwhelming. Back in our room, it all came right back up.
29 August--A bit exhausted from the day before, I didn't do much while Julie explored the town. But later on I went to the tea shop for a bite and then we tried to find a local popcorn "factory" which turned out to just be some guy's house where he pops corn over a small fire. But the corn wasn't in season so we instead we watched him make potato chips.
30 August--Went back to Mandalay today in a shared taxi, riding in style in the usual 30 year old Toyota. We went back to the Moustache Brothers that night and this time they had a small crowd so we got a show. It was a bit of a let down but still funny and entertaining. We were hoping for some political satire but maybe they have to watch themselves these days.
31 August--Nine hour bus ride to Bagan. They took note of Julie's long legs and gave us the front seat, making it our best bus ride yet. Had a nice pizza and Nepali food dinner at a restaurant named Wonderful Tasty Food. It lived up to the name.
1 September--Rented bikes and explored amazing Bagan. In an area of about 10 square kilometers, the rulers of the ancient kingdom of Bagan built over 4,000 Buddhist temples and pagodas, some of them quite impressive. They range from about 800 to 1000 years old. Next to Angkor Wat in Cambodia, this is probably SE Asia's most amazing archeaological zone. Yet we saw only one other foreigner the whole day. At our second temple visit, a man waved us over and unlocked the door to the temple and gave us a tour. He lived next to the temple as its caretaker. We had some tea with him, then his wife came back from the market and shared some treats with us--little bars of almost pure sugar from toddy palms, which dot the Bagan landscape. Then he led us up the stairs of another temple where we had a great view of the plain...temples everywhere, up to the edge of the Irrawaddy River.
2 September--Another day biking around the temples and looking in awe at high ceilings, huge teak doors, giant Buddha statues. We went to the top of one of the larger temples for a sunset that never really happened, but we did meet two women who had just come back from the delta region where they had spent several days donating something like 1500 kgs of rice. They somehow managed to get permits to go to the delta, then hired a boat and went around distributing the rice. Very bold and what a wonderful thing to do, we were impressed and later on we met them for dinner at Wonderful Tasty Food.
3 September--Explored one last temple, then hopped on the night bus to Yangon at 3pm. About two hours down the road we stopped in a long line of other stopped vehicles. Turns out there was a flash flood surging through the main road, which went right over a river bed. In almost any other country, there would be a bridge at a place like this. But Myanmar's government is too preoccupied with its own selfish interests to even build a proper main road from the capital. So we waited for about 2 to 3 hours for the flooding to subside. Roadside food vendors hold permanent residence there because the flooding holdups are so common, so we had some rice and fried eggs. Back on the road again, we went through long sections with potholes like bomb craters. I found it really depressing that the government has neglected these roads so badly. We somehow slept through at least part of the ride, and we finally arrived in Yangon 20 hours from when we left. We estimate that the same drive on a proper road would have taken only about a quarter of that time.
4 September--Our last day. Went walking around Yangon to spend our last kyat (Myanmar currency) on souvenirs and food. At this point Yangon felt comfortable and alive, and we knew we would miss Myanmar.
11 August--Arrived in Yangon (Rangoon) airport and decided to go with a nice guy from the Motherland Inn because he offered a free ride. Pouring rain out as we drove through Yangon in the Inn's shabby 20 year old mini van (Tink's cousin?). They gave us a nice big breakfast at the inn, then we hit the hay for a few hours of rest. I went out for a little walk later through the crumbling neighborhood streets. A bit of culture shock. Dirtier than Hanoi. Ancient cars. Men in skirts (called longyi). Lots of bad teeth, stained with blood-red betel nut juice. Felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. One guy must have seen the culture shock in me and said, Hey friend, don't worry. So I waived and smiled back and tried to keep my chin up the rest of the way.
12 August--Not a big day. Julie was feeling under the weather with a cold. We rallied our energy for a long walk into central Yangon for lunch. I started to feel much more used to Yangon, and we walked through some areas that were a little more lively. We returned stares and smiles and usually got big smiles and Hellos in return.
13 August--Today we ventured out to one of the big markets for some shopping. We wanted to get some school supplies and small gifts to give to people during our travels. Myanmar is so poor that little things like pens and pencils can go a long way. We were disappointed to find that this market had more clothes, gemstones, and beauty products than school supplies, but a nice kid really wanted to help us and he brought us to a shop where we loaded up. I also got a longyi and we picked up an umbrella to combat the frequent downpours. Then we went to a bookshop that had old and new Newsweeks and Economists which we bought to give away to people since they are often starved for English reading material and international news.
14 August--Went down to breakfast in my new longyi and a guy at the inn called me "Myanmar Man" in approval. We met an Australian guy at breakfast and shared a taxi with him to Yangon's most famous sight, Shwedagon pagoda. It's a massive golden pagoda and somewhat of a "mecca" for Myanmar's Buddhists (about 90% of the population). We would soon see that golden pagodas in Myanmar are about as dense as Starbucks in Seattle, but the Shwedagon is really quite impressive and its umbrella at the top is covered in diamonds and other jewels, which you can see with telescopes around the base of the pagoda. A highlight was meeting a friendly monk who gave us a little tour and blessed us in front of the pagoda. He showed us how to pour water over a Buddha shrine for good luck. Later, we headed downtown to buy bus tickets to a town called Taungoo, where we would go the next day, then walked through central Yangon back to the inn. I got lots of laughs, smiles, and comments about my longyi. And of course Julie got the usual curiosity due to her height and blonde hair, but finally I had a distinguishing characteristic--white guy in a longyi.
15 August--Took the bus to Taungoo in the morning. The normally 6-7 hour ride took about 10 due to serious flooding about 1-2 hours from Yangon. People were wading sometimes up to their wastes, or paddling canoes. Luckily the bus guys grabbed our bags from the undercarriage and brought them into the bus so they didn't get soaked. Thanks to a few locals on the bus who could speak a smidgen of English, we were able to figure out approximately where to get off, then hired a trishaw driver (bicycle rickshaw with two passenger seats) to pedal us to the guest house. The guest house was owned by the lovely Dr. Aye, a retired local doctor who made us feel very at home in her teak house. The room had an awesome view of mountains, rice paddies, and toddy palms. Over dinner Dr. Aye was not shy to give us the lowdown on Myanmar politics, our first real insights about the country from a local. With a broad smile and lots of little chuckles, she told us of the blatant oppression, censorship, propaganda, and corruption people face everyday. Funding for healthcare and education is laughable, and people are suppressed by poverty, poor education, and fear of dissent. But most people know they are deceived, and some are surprisingly well informed because they listen to the Voice of America (in Burmese) or watch satellite TV if they are wealthy enough to afford the extortionate fees charged by the government for this "privilege". Covert journalism keeps people (and the rest of the world) informed about things like the protests last year and Cyclone Nargis back in May. Government TV news is little more than a silly facade of things like the achievements of the military, generosity of the government, and religious merits of government officials.
16 August--Didn't sleep much thanks to all-night prayers over the loudspeaker from the local monastery (monks on the mic). But Dr. Aye made up for it and served a massive breakfast of various fruits (all grown on her property), curries, and chapatti (Indian style flatbread). More talk of politics. Then we hopped into her pick up truck and drove into town to her son's guest house. He's a doctor himself and he sometimes goes to remote villages to give free medical treatment. We wanted to donate some money (actually money from a friend who inspired us to go to Myanmar) to his cause. But he wasn't there yet, so Dr. Aye gave us some bikes to use for the day and we rode down to the town lake and walked out onto a small bridge. There were a bunch of kids and young men swimming and jumping off the bridge and we quickly attracted their curiosity. Julie had wisely brought a bag of ballons, which were an instant hit (floatation devices!), and meanwhile I got out the phrasebook and tried to converse with one of our new friends. It mainly involved pointing to the Burmese script in the book when my pronunciation elicited puzzled looks. Some of the kids were keen to show off their jumping skills when Julie brought out the camera. They loved seeing the pictures of themselves on the LCD screen. It was a jolly good time, but eventually we said goodbye and rode our bikes back to Dr. Chan's place. He was there and we went up to his office to look at his pictures of trips to remote villages, then we offered our donation. Rode back towards the guest house for lunch and got lots of laughs, Hellos, and Hey Misters. My bike chain kept falling off and one guy rushed up to help me with it. Really nice folks.
17 August--A better night of sleep and another killer breakfast. A warm goodbye from Dr. Aye and a ride to the train station with Dr. Chan. Then we waited in the station for the three-hour late train to Thazi. Early on in the train ride, a young monk in his 20s approached us and asked if he could sit down and chat with us. He asked the couple sitting across from us if he could have their seat and they reluctantly squeezed aside to let the him in. We gave them apologetic looks. For the rest of the train ride we had a strained conversation mostly about his aspirations to go to America to make money to send home to his family. We encouraged him to try to go (the US is after all supposedly allowing in more Burmese refugees) yet at the same time explained to him that it would probably be costly, time consuming, and not easy. He didn't seem to quite grasp this but he was really eager and even tried to impress us by singing some Christian hymn. But we exchanged addresses and told him to email us (through a friend) with any questions. Meanwhile, we also attracted the attention of a weird guy that gave us both the creeps, hovering next to us staring and grinning. Eventually we realized that actually he was harmless and just really curious and could speak a bit of English. The poor guy had some sort of disability that made him a little creepy, and the monk explained to us that he was a "nit wit". It was all rather strange and we were happy when we finally arrived in Thazi. Spent the night in a basic little guest house that hadn't seen more than a handful of travellers in the past three months.
18 August--Met another crazy monk at breakfast. But this guy was crazier. He walked up with his alms bowl and the owner of the guesthouse gave him a banana. He had thickly applied pink lipstick smeared widely around his lips, and his eyebrows were painted with thick black lipstick. Around his neck he wore Mardi Gras-style beads and his long fingernails were painted red. With a broad smile he told us that he was rich and had a large bank account in Singapore. Then he pointed to the paintings above us and said that he made them, and that in fact he was the woman dancer in one of them. Then he ranted a little in Burmese and said a few unintelligable things in English. We looked to the guest house owner for translation and he said You do realize he is a madman. All of us, the monk included, had a big laugh, and Julie and I would laugh about this for days. The guest house owner helped us get on a bus to Kalaw, a cool mountain town about 4 hours from Thazi. My favorite memory of the trip was of a beautiful girl who I shared a smile with when she had to put her hand on my arm to let another passenger cram into the bus. My next memory is of her vomiting into a bag next to me. It was a long and windy road.
19 August--Met an Australian guy named Jason at our guesthouse in Kalaw and shared a taxi with him to a nearby town called Pindaya, known for its impressive natural cave filed with Buddha shrines. We also walked around the big market there where people were selling loads of vegetables, stinky dried fish, eels on a stick, and other exotic foods. We met an antique stand owner who spoke some English and mumbled on and on about Myanmar politics. He told us that he used to work for the government railroad and had recently been let off a 6 year prison sentence for participating in a labor strike. We exchanged addresses and gave him a pack of cards. Later, we went to a Shan paper workshop where they showed us how they make paper from mulberry bark. Most of it they use to make paper parasols. We should have bought one, they were really nice, but instead we bought a blank book for a journal.
20 August--Today we set out on a three day trek from Kalaw to Inle Lake. Jason the Australian was with us, and our guide was a man named Robin. A man of Punjabi Indian heritage (many Indians and Nepalis came to Burma in Her Majesty's service back in the old colonial days), he wore a turban and spoke excellent English. He does the trek to Inle Lake all the time and is very knowledgeable about the hill tribe peoples and medical plants, so we learned quite a bit. The first day we did about 22 km and saw many tribes people along the way...all farmers, picking tea leaves, working rice paddies, herding cattle. Robin told us that while they can choose most of what they farm (but not necessarily where), everyone is required by the government to produce certain quantities of castor oil. We stopped at the home of some Palaung people for some home-grown tea, then at the local school where one teacher was in charge of 80 students. We donated a world map and some other little things. We learned from Robin (Dr. Aye had told us the same) that Myanmar teachers get paid the equivalent of about $30 per month--hardly enough for a decent living. That night we stayed in the home of the mayor/chief of a small (about 30 people) village. It was actually a pretty nice place, two stories and made of concrete...most other families live in raised bamboo houses. No electricity, which made for a great candle-lit dinner made by our cook Myin-So. The mayor's wife had found some wild mushrooms, a real treat that she shared with us. I told her they were the best mushrooms I had ever tasted, and when Robin translated she went back down stairs and came up with another bowl. What a meal!
21 August--The next day was a long one, about 28 km. Met lots more farmers along the way, and stopped for lunch at a Pa-O village home. We were really psyched when we arrived at the monastery where we would spend the night, a typically old and beautiful teak building. We were welcomed by the super friendly head monk--a "modern monk" who greeted Julie with a handshake, usually taboo for devout monks. Had bucket showers and then another great meal from Mying-So. The head monk said that they usually don't run the generator at night but since we were there it was a special occasion. The young monks crowded around the TV and watched a movie while we had our dinner outside on the porch.
22 August--Awoke to the sound of monks chanting their blessings early in the morning...much better than the usual roosters or stray dogs. This was the shortest day and we went mostly downhill to Inle Lake. Then we had to take a boat from the southern end of the lake to the town of Nyaungshwe at the northern end. Beautiful lake with mountains on either side. We got to see the unique leg-rowing technique the locals use to propel their canoes, and also the conical fishing nets they use to trap fish in shallow water, then jab spears through the holes to stab them to death. In Nyaungshwe we said farewell to Robin and Mying-So.
23 August--Explored Nyaungshwe a little, then went on a canoe ride down the local canals, ending up at a monastery to watch the sunset. Had dinner at a place run by a really eager to please guy who made tasty homemade pasta, a rare treat in Myanmar but apparently all the rage in Nyaungshwe which is one of the few touristy towns in the country.
24 August--Took a bus all the way back to Thazi early in the morning. I wouldn't have been surprised if we hadn't made it there at all in the ancient mini bus, but somehow we rolled into Thazi after about eight hours. Then we caught the train, late as usual, to Mandalay, and arrived there at about 11pm.
25 August--Mandalay is the second largest city in Myanmar and we found it a bit nicer than Yangon. Of course, some of the nice touches are thanks to forced labor at places like the Royal Palace, which we avoided visiting. But we did go to Mandalay hill later in the day for some great views of the city. Hired a really cool trishaw driver who spoke great English and had university aspirations but little money. He asked me if the government will help pay for university in the US, which it does not do in Myanmar, and told me I was lucky to be born in America. I can only imagine his frustration. On Mandalay Hill we met an Australian doctor who had been working in the Irrawaddy delta for Medicins Sans Frontiers (Doctors Without Borders) and she told us a bit about the post-cyclone situation there. They hadn't had to deal with any major illnessess and the real problem was simply lack of food and starvation for many. She said it is likely to get worse if more help is not given. After Mandalay Hill, she went with us to dinner at a barbecue restaurant where you pick your skewers for grilling. Then we went to the local marionette theater for a show. Great music.
26 August--Today we went to the nearby ancient city of Amarapura, which is most famous for its 1km long teak bridge. We took the typical local public transport--a pickup truck with bench seats with an impossible number of people crammed in (and out). Other than a woman drooling on my shoulder it was fun and the people gave us big smiles. When we got dropped off in Amarapura we stumbled upon one of the famous nat festivals, which happen around this time each year. Nats are spirits people celebrate and pay their respects to through music and dance. Dancers are thought to become possessed with the spirits and are respected as mediums through which the nats communicate. We met a guy there who works as a tour guide and an English teacher (but we could barely understand him half the time) and he took us to his home and then to a tea shop where we had the best tea (made with sweet condensed milk) along with samosas and donut-like things filled with coconut and sugar. He told us how the goverment will sometimes demand his service as an English interpreter without payment. Meanwhile they charge absurd amounts of money for his tour guide license. He pointed us towards the teak bridge, which we didn't find that amazing but it was fun nonetheless, especially when some Burmese girls asked if they could have their picture taken with us on the bridge (I bet Julie's blonde hair was the attraction). Few people in Myanmar have cameras but there are lots of photographers hanging out at touristy places...and they paid for photos with us. Ha! That night we went to see the famous Moustache Brothers perform, but they didn't have enough people so we just hung out for a bit and chatted with the wild and crazy Mr. Lu Maw. The Brothers troupe used to perform comedy and dance shows in Burmese, but one of the brothers went to prison three separate times for a total 7 years for making fun of the government (once at a party at Aung San Suu Kyi's house). So now they are blacklisted by the government but somehow get away with doing shows in English to foreigners only. Lu Maw was a riot and rattled off his collection of jokes, idioms and American slang.
27 August--Instead of taking the dreaded bus, we splurged on a share taxi ride to a town called Hsipaw in Shan State. Arrived after about 5 hours and went to a tea shop for lunch (a whole feed of sweet milk tea and samosas for about a dollar for both of us), then explored the town a bit. Walked through the town market and were startled to meet a big white guy from Hawaii. We talked about how there couldn't be more than 500 foreigners in the whole country, if that. Good for us but bad for the Burmese people dependent on traveller's dollars.
28 August--After breakfast we had an interesting chat with the guest house owner's son. We talked politics and he enlightened us a bit more on the different kinds of attitudes in Myanmar. He said some are adamant about the need for change, some choose to side with the government and get government or military jobs so they have a chance at a decent living, and some are either uneducated or simply choose to ignore the problems. He explained to us that some people are complacent even when the government does them wrong because, as Buddhists, they feel that any misfortune they encounter in life is the result of bad karma from previous lives and they must deserve it. He gave us the example of local people who were forced to move and lose their homes without any compensation when the government built new roads. Another Buddhist quality that keeps people from forcing change is the concept of freedom from desire; the Buddha taught that the root of all suffering is desire. So to constantly desire change can be counter productive for a serious Buddhist. But of course, it has usually been the monks who have been the most outspoken against the current regime, so the religion is not totally crippling in this sense. But it was interesting to think about Myanmar's problems from a Buddhist perspective.
Afterwards, we rented bikes and rode to the nearby Shan villages to donate the rest of our supplies to two different schools. At the first school the teachers were taking a break and welcomed us for some tea. We gave them a world map and were amazed at their limited knowledge of geography. They thought that South America was part of the US. They offered us a little corn and sugar snack that looked potentially dangerous, and we initially refused but then politeness overcame reason and I ate quite a bit of it. Bad idea. On the ride back I knew I was getting sick and the heat was overwhelming. Back in our room, it all came right back up.
29 August--A bit exhausted from the day before, I didn't do much while Julie explored the town. But later on I went to the tea shop for a bite and then we tried to find a local popcorn "factory" which turned out to just be some guy's house where he pops corn over a small fire. But the corn wasn't in season so we instead we watched him make potato chips.
30 August--Went back to Mandalay today in a shared taxi, riding in style in the usual 30 year old Toyota. We went back to the Moustache Brothers that night and this time they had a small crowd so we got a show. It was a bit of a let down but still funny and entertaining. We were hoping for some political satire but maybe they have to watch themselves these days.
31 August--Nine hour bus ride to Bagan. They took note of Julie's long legs and gave us the front seat, making it our best bus ride yet. Had a nice pizza and Nepali food dinner at a restaurant named Wonderful Tasty Food. It lived up to the name.
1 September--Rented bikes and explored amazing Bagan. In an area of about 10 square kilometers, the rulers of the ancient kingdom of Bagan built over 4,000 Buddhist temples and pagodas, some of them quite impressive. They range from about 800 to 1000 years old. Next to Angkor Wat in Cambodia, this is probably SE Asia's most amazing archeaological zone. Yet we saw only one other foreigner the whole day. At our second temple visit, a man waved us over and unlocked the door to the temple and gave us a tour. He lived next to the temple as its caretaker. We had some tea with him, then his wife came back from the market and shared some treats with us--little bars of almost pure sugar from toddy palms, which dot the Bagan landscape. Then he led us up the stairs of another temple where we had a great view of the plain...temples everywhere, up to the edge of the Irrawaddy River.
2 September--Another day biking around the temples and looking in awe at high ceilings, huge teak doors, giant Buddha statues. We went to the top of one of the larger temples for a sunset that never really happened, but we did meet two women who had just come back from the delta region where they had spent several days donating something like 1500 kgs of rice. They somehow managed to get permits to go to the delta, then hired a boat and went around distributing the rice. Very bold and what a wonderful thing to do, we were impressed and later on we met them for dinner at Wonderful Tasty Food.
3 September--Explored one last temple, then hopped on the night bus to Yangon at 3pm. About two hours down the road we stopped in a long line of other stopped vehicles. Turns out there was a flash flood surging through the main road, which went right over a river bed. In almost any other country, there would be a bridge at a place like this. But Myanmar's government is too preoccupied with its own selfish interests to even build a proper main road from the capital. So we waited for about 2 to 3 hours for the flooding to subside. Roadside food vendors hold permanent residence there because the flooding holdups are so common, so we had some rice and fried eggs. Back on the road again, we went through long sections with potholes like bomb craters. I found it really depressing that the government has neglected these roads so badly. We somehow slept through at least part of the ride, and we finally arrived in Yangon 20 hours from when we left. We estimate that the same drive on a proper road would have taken only about a quarter of that time.
4 September--Our last day. Went walking around Yangon to spend our last kyat (Myanmar currency) on souvenirs and food. At this point Yangon felt comfortable and alive, and we knew we would miss Myanmar.
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