Myanmar in 8 Days

South East Asia

After traveling extensively around Asia, I had heard Myanmar was one of the most exotic places one could go. So I made up my mind to visit the place. Not knowing what to expect, I was in for a few surprises.

The flight over

Yangon

I first arrived in Yangon with my Australian friend Thomas. From the airport we caught a taxi to our hotel. Looking out the window, I did not think the city seemed different from the other cities in South East Asia. It was as if I had been there before. So there wasn't that traveler's rush one often experiences when assaulted by the sights and sounds of a new destination. However, it did not take me long to realize that Yangon was in fact unique. The city did not have the modern conveniences one would find in Bangkok or Hanoi. I saw no shopping centers, fast food restaurants or convenient stores. Most the signs had no English on them. And the streets were filthy and cluttered. It appeared more like India than the neighboring South East Asian countries of Laos and Thailand.

Checking in

Yangon street view

Set the bird free

Bananas for sale

What I had not anticipated was the amount of foreigners. I was thinking they would be nonexistent. But then again there really were not so many. Only enough to stand out in most the places I went. A few touts would target them in the city center. One was the type that offered to exchange dollars into local kyat. The other type was young monks who asked for money (both seem dubious so I did my best to ignore them). By the time most Westerners set foot in Myanmar, they are already seasoned, cautious travelers. Yet a few tourists I talked to were still scammed by moneychangers. That said, the Myanmar people still came across as honest and fair. Haggling over prices was not a commonplace practice except for maybe at the most touristy of spots. Moreover, the locals liked to talk with foreigners. In those instances, they did not try to sell something or take us anywhere. It was simply friendly conversation and a good opportunity for them to practice their English.

Grains

Hindu temple

Local cuisine

Floating palace

Yangon is a flat city with one prominent hill. On the hill is Shwedagon Pagoda, a giant golden edifice that supposedly houses three hairs of Siddhartha Gautama, the first Buddha. For anyone visiting the city it is a must see. More than a pagoda it is a collection of temples, many gilded and imposing. Locals go there to pray with countless monks among them. Then there are the tourists free wielding their cameras. I was no different. With my trusty Nikon I snapped away, looking for the best angles. To the west the sun sank and the pagoda become lit up with giant lights. The devout placed candles around the edge of the main pagoda. Apparently, because of the full moon, it was a special occasion. In spite of the arrival of night, the complex remained alive with prayer and activity.

Shwedagon Temple

Solemn worship

Lit up

Made a friend

Wet rat

As the sun goes down

Monks

I have a fascination with Buddhist monks. Yangon had plenty. I am certain Myanmar is home to more of them than any other place I have visited. Every morning these bald, robed denizens roam the city in search of handouts. Under their arm they carry a container for people to put food in, such as rice, fruit and bread. By giving these alms to the money, the locals are improving their karma. Moreover, many of these people were at one time a monk so they understand the necessity of their actions. Monks do not have money and they forsake worldly possessions. It is by the kindness of others that they survive. With all the colorful monks going around collecting food, it reminded me of American trick-or-treaters on Halloween, especially when they went from store to store. The owners would put something in each of their containers as the monks lined up and moved on to the next shop.

Monk walk

I talked with several monks during my stay. They said that as Buddhists they join a temple to study and strengthen their faith. But how long they remain depends on the person. Some go for only a week, and others stay on for thirty years. I saw children who were monks, and old men, but most were young guys--slim, fit and full of energy. Moreover, there were female monks, and they wore not auburn, but pink robes. While in other Buddhist countries female monks were a rarity, in Myanmar they were everywhere. And they sung when they collected their alms. But otherwise they kept to themselves in close groups, perhaps because they were forbidden from having contact with men.

Collecting alms

Buddha statue, Theravada style

Delta Life

Yangon is on the shores of the Yangon River. Much of the riverside is reclaimed land, whereas opposite the water to the east, delta life continues. We took a ferry across, and then a pickup north to the town of Twente. The truck was meant to seat ten, but Thomas and I were two of thirty-five passengers. People rode on the roof and hung to the sides. I thought the situation comical at first, and then twenty minutes in, I began to feel claustrophobic and sick. I was literally wedged between a shifting assortment of knees, feet and elbows.

The ferry over

Little kids at play

A pick-up taxi

Thomas rides

Small mosque

Once we got off, it did not look like we were in a town. So we walked. At one point I decided to make a right, thinking it would take us to the river. My intuition proved to be correct. We wandered up to a bunch of huts on stilts. Some boys were playing on the muddy riverbank, and local men sat in boats chatting and chewing betel nut. One of these guys called us over and asked if we wanted a ride. I said, "sure," and he started up the motor. 15 minutes on the river took us to a dock. I had no idea where we were. The shoreline was wooded and I saw no buildings. But the dock led to a path which took us to some huts and a fish farm. This was the home of our would-be guides. The men showed us how they fed the fish, and then cut coconuts from the trees. I had the inside milk which tasted a bit like flat Sprite.

Muddy boys

Boat time

Village home

Cutting coconuts

On the river

After they returned us to where we had started, Thomas and I gave them four bucks for their troubles. We then had noodles at a small stand, checked out a temple, and found the center of town. Tourists were sparse, and the locals friendly and productive. Twente was the real Myanmar. There, a simple, calm way of life persisted against the tides of change, but for how much longer I wondered.

Hut 

Back to Yangon

Night market

Coconut dog

Inle Lake

Some 500km (14 hours by bus) north of Yangon is Shan State, a region famous for Inle Lake. The lake has become a major tourist draw in recent years. Thomas and I did not have a reservation upon our arrival in the town of Nuang Shwe. It took us a while to find a hotel with vacancy. The problem is that in Myanmar a place must be properly licensed by the government to host foreigners, and there were barely enough licensed hotels nearby to handle the influx of tourists in peak season. Sometimes I like to flatter myself as a rough and tough traveler who often braves the unbeaten path, but then I visit a place like Inle Lake and realize I'm no different than all the rest. There were obese middle-aged couples, old couples in matching khakis, families with small children, fashionable young adults, and every other type of tourist imaginable. 

Looking for a hotel

More alms

For a small fee a tourists can get a boat with a guide. The lake tour includes stop at a market, floating gardens, monastery, temples, weaving shop and so on. Our group was rather lazy, and we skipped out on most the local attractions. But what we did see, I was impressed by. The local people live in houses on the water that are up on stilts, and they subsist largely off the land. Tourism has certainly had its impact though. Several of the people in the region are out for quick cash, yet they are not aggressive about it like in Vietnam or Cambodia. And I imagine during most the year the number of tourists trickles down to the point where the locals can go about their business without concerning themselves over their presence. I heard that in summer during the rainy season the area is not even accessible because the national highway network becomes flooded. Meanwhile, the level of the lake rises a meter and power outages are frequent.

Inle Lake fishermen

Temple on the lake

Marketplace 

Sorting threads

Happy to weave

Many boats

Stupas

Sundown

We spent the New Year's evening in Nuang Shwe at our hotel. The owner threw a party for his staff and the hotel guests were welcome to join in. This meant free food for everyone. But with all the beer we bought from the bar, I'm sure the hotel turned a profit. Nearby was a restaurant that the staff managed to turn into a night club. I went along with some of the other guests but was not feeling well. The local food had by then upset my stomach, and I wanted only to rest in my room. But it was New Year's so I decided to tough it out until the countdown. Unfortunately, at the turn of the hour I was on the toilet and missed out on the fun.

New Year's party

Dancing

Hot spring the next day

On the road

Mandalay

From Shan State, Thomas and I took another bus to Mandalay. That is the second largest city in Myanmar and the central hub of the north. However, the city is more in the center of the country, whereas the far north is a mountainous region that is not under complete governmental control. For over sixty years rebel groups have fought the ruling military junta with several human rights violations occurring on both sides. But in recent times the military has loosened its authoritative grip and sued for peace in some regions. The recent political move towards democracy also helped improve the situation as well. Such efforts have strengthened Myanmar's relationship with foreign powers, and the economy is expected to take off in the near future as investors move in. 

Bus troubles

Having visited both Mandalay and Yangon, Mandalay is the more impressive of the two.  The layout is a grid with numbered streets and evenly spaced blocks. To the west is the Irrawady River. A large moat and palace take up the center, and on the north side is Mandalay Hill. Otherwise the city is wide open and featureless. In Yangon there is a ban on motorbikes, but this is not the case in Mandalay. Motorcyclists weave through slower traffic, and the hum of their motors is a common sound. Perhaps this is the reason Mandalay feels more full of spirit. The people also live by more modest means. Many lack running water at home and gather midday around public wells to bathe and wash clothes. Among other things, I noticed that once away from the main roads, the city blocks have the feel of little villages where children play in the roads and the adults fan themselves in the shade.

Palace moat

Gasoline by the liter

For a day trip, Thomas and I went to the river to take a boat upstream to Mingun. The small town is known for a large brick temple that has over the years taken a beating from earthquakes. A giant crack on the front side, for example, sticks out like an unsightly scar. As soon as we were off the boat Thomas and I made for the opposite end of the village away from all the tourists. But there was little to see apart from huts and fields. Thus, we doubled back and approached the temples. A guy tried to charge us a tourist fee when we came near. We didn't pay, and instead snuck through some gardens to bypass him. According to travel guides most the taxes and fees collected from tourists go to the government which misappropriates the money. So it is best to not pay when possible.

Irrawady River

No docks

Oxen taxi

Brick edifice

White temple

Next to Mandalay is another city called Amarapura. It has temples, markets and many sights, of which the most remarkable is a long teak bridge called U Bein. Over a kilometer long, the bridge spans the width of a shallow lake.  In the late afternoon the sun bathes the water in gold, and our hotel staff recommended we go at that time. They even called us a taxi.  When we arrived around 4:30pm, the bridge was packed with locals and tourists. Thomas and I went up and walked its length. By the time we reached the far end the sun was low on the horizon. I got off the bridge and followed the edge of the lake to a place where I could take a nice sunset shot. We then lingered some in the twilight of dusk. The air was warm, and the murky smell of mud and plant life came up from below carried by a light evening breeze.

U Bein Bridge

Walking along

Beautiful sunset

Fishing

Perfect Reflection

Whenever I visit a city I make an effort to walk the streets to get a feel for the local scene. In Mandalay, Thomas and I went from our hotel to Mandalay Hill which at a brisk pace would have taken an hour. However, we took our time. We avoided the main avenues and cut through quaint neighborhoods on pothole ridden roads that had likely not been paved in over a decade. As I meandered along I waved to the locals and smiled. They waved back, and the kids pointed and giggled. Though foreigners are not an unusual sight in Mandalay, I imagined few if any ever passed through such parts of the city.

Obligatory street shot from hotel

Traditional dress

Washing at the public well

Unexpectedly, we came upon a large crowd. An MC was speaking through a loud speaker system, and music played between his announcements. Once we drew close I saw that the locals were staging a type of competition. Two men at a time mounted a thick bamboo pole, and they swung sacks full of rags at one another. The first one to fall off into a stack of hay below was the loser. The MC noticed us and asked if we wanted to join. We were all for it. So Thomas went first. He won the best of three rounds versus a local, and the crowd cheered him. When it was my turn, I won as well. As a prize they gave us longyis. Those are a kind of skirt that Myanmar women and men wear. A nearby proprietor then offered us food at his restaurant. We had already eaten. In the end he insisted we at least have a beer.

Fighting for pride

Cute spectators

Thomas' prize

The Gods are good

When Thomas and I finally resumed our walk to Mandalay Hill, we suspected our opponents had thrown the matches. If so, it was a kindness to us foreigners, to make us look and feel good. The Myanmar people really are that wonderful. A half hour later we reached the hill and walked up a long staircase to the top. A temple complex offered a 360-degree panoramic view of the city. Tons of tourists crowded the area. To avoid the crowds Thomas and I went down a bit to a quieter area and sat on a bench. There we watched the sun set to the west opposite the Irrawady River.

Atop Mandalay Hill

Looking down

The view

Pyin Oo Lwin

The last part of the country we visited was a mountain town called Pyin Oo Lwin. To get there we took a rickety train that passed through rough, green terrain. The ride was so bumpy I worried that the train might jump the track. Fortunately, we arrived safe and sound, checked into a hotel and after that rented bicycles. 8km to the south was a waterfall hidden within a narrow valley. It was a good ways off the main road, and moreover, a sweaty hike from the nearest point of vehicle access. A local woman volunteered to guide us down the windy trail. I had no idea what to expect, and was blown away when we came to the waterfall. The huge torrent of water had such a heavy flow that it blasted a column of cold, misty air a hundred meters outward. The guide led us to the top too. The drop was quite abrupt. I went right to the edge. A slight misstep would have resulted in certain death, yet there I stood, alive and breathing, a marvel of nature beneath me.

Into the mountains

Jungly outside

A brief stop

Mysterious guide

Big Waterfall 

Monk soccer

In Pyin Oo Lwin lived an American with his Thai wife. He ran the finest restaurant in town, The Golden Triangle, which offered a sweet local brew. Unsurprisingly, the man also owned a coffee farm nearby. He had set it up without permission and bribed the necessary officials when they came complaining. For 15 years, Myanmar had been "home" he said. Out of curiosity I asked him if he had any intention of returning to America.

"I left in '67," he replied. " And every year since it's gotten worse over there. I tell you, America is now a police state masquerading as a democracy--no different than here. The one difference is Myanmar is on an economic rise. And America...well, its day has come and gone."

I took that to mean, "no."

The way the man spoke seemed odd to me. He was sometimes almost ranting. Once Thomas and I sat at our own table to eat, the man resumed reading a British newspaper while sipping coffee at his large booth near the entrance. I imagined him parked there everyday, a big bellied king without a crown, the restaurant his castle. During our meal Thomas and I decided that Western expats who spend too much of their lives overseas inevitably end up as weirdos. They are caught between cultures and as a result develop personalities which are resilient. And at the same time these expats think they got it all figured out, taking pride in their uniqueness, which in turn gives them an overblown ego. The American was the prime example on which we based our conclusion.

Busy market

Meat

Another mosque

Shan village

The last thing I did in the Pyin Oo Lwin was get a haircut. I had planned to do so at the beginning of the trip in Yangon but forgotten. So when I came upon the dim, dingy barber shop I knew it was time. The problem was the barber did not know any English. I used gestures to give him an idea of what I wanted. But as he started cutting I feared he had misunderstood. He also had me turned away from the mirror so I could not see what he was doing. The man did not even use electric clippers. Everything was done by hand. My worrying got to the point where I figured I could shave it all off once I got back to Japan.  He finally finished and I had a chance to scrutinize my hair from every angle. I was delighted. The final cut was impeccable. Not knowing what to pay him, I handed over a large bill. The change I got back was much more than expected. It had only cost 60 cents in local currency. With a nod and a smile, I gave him double as a tip.

Haircut in progress

Conclusion

Myanmar for me was the last stop off in a series of trips to South East Asia. I have absolutely no desire to return to that part of the world for several years. And so my eyes shift towards a different horizon. Central Asia perhaps? The Islands of the South Pacific? Or maybe it's time I revisit Europe.

I am at the crossroads now, and each turn is equally attractive.