Burma Trip: Yangon, Mandalay, Pyin U Lwin, Bagan

YANGON

It was raining cats and dogs when we left Holland. It feels good to be away. Yangon, Sunflower Hotel. We took a taxi from the airport into town. The chauffeur showed us the different hotels on our list and after we had chosen one he brought us to a place where we could change money on the black market. Cars drive on the right side of the road, a strange detail is that the steering wheel of the car is also on the right side.

We slept a few hours and ate biryani. Yangon is crowded, the real Asia. It is more like India than like Thailand. I feel at home and at ease when we stroll on the streets in the evening. The people are very friendly and they don't hassle you. It is clear that this is a poor country.

Had a good night. We are going to need it. We have to catch the bus to Mandalay at five PM. Yangon is okay but there is not much to see and we have to stay here on the way back.

Shwedagon paya is huge and all the gold, glittering in the sun, is almost painful to the eyes. In travel guides they write about it in the way they write about the Taj Mahal. What is the matter with me? Am I still too tired from the flight? Is my mind still in Holland? This Shwedagon Paya doesn't reach my soul at all! On the streets you can buy fried grasshoppers. They showed me how to eat them, you tear off the wings and put the whole insect in your mouth. We took an Indian thali instead.


MANDALAY

The bus was okay and the guest house (Royal guest house) is fine. Traveling takes a lot of energy, it makes me forget everything else.

Do India and Burma so look alike because they both are poor countries? Nothing seems to leave a factory in a brand new state. The coloured lights on the ceiling of the bus are real Asian, as are the lights on the side of big trucks.

We visited the Royal Palace. It demanded more paperwork to enter this building than to pass customs. It is a beautiful building but the thought that it is rebuilt using forced labour makes me feel uneasy. On the way to the palace we had a chat with a former policeman. He had the hope that this country will become a democracy sometime in the future. Now everything is strictly arranged by the rules of the SLORC (State Law and Order Restoration). Silent expressions of this disgusting regime are the slogans, sometimes in english, on signs.

After breakfast we tried to find the bus to Mandalay Hill, but we didn't succeed, too difficult to find out which bus or pick up truck goes to our destination. We asked a man to help us. He answered in perfect english, but what he said was complete nonsense. His breath smelled of alcohol. He told us that he was a professor at the university, teaching english, but that the university was closed now. He left us with the excuse that "he had another fish to fry". We hired bicycles and this turned out to be the ideal form of transport. Even I can find my way in Mandalay because of the numbered streets.

On top of Mandalay Hill it is a real fun fair, food stalls and souvenir sellers. On the way up there is some devotion. There are almost no other tourists. We visited also some paya's in the neighbour hood of Mandalay Hill. The entrance fees are high 3-5 $ and we know the only benefiter is the SLORC, so we try to avoid paying by using side entrances. Sometimes we succeed.

This morning we went together to Mahamuni Paya. I decided that I wanted to spent more time there so our ways parted. The atmosphere is very friendly in this paya. The Mahamuni Buddha is impressive because of all the glittering gold and the devoted people paying their respect. I spent a lot of time strolling on the temple grounds.

I cycled to the hospital. I promised a friend back home to make a picture of an ambulance so that was a good excuse to visit the hospital. I found an ambulance but the people around it didn't understand what I wanted. They took me to a doctor in a kind of emergency unit. He spoke two words of english and didn't understand me either, but it gave me the opportunity to make some pictures. I found an internal ward, old and dark and filthy. There was a nurse who spoke some english. She told me what the patients where suffering from and what treatment they got. They still drain as a cure for hypertension. Walking around I met a French engineer. He and his colleagues were installing a generator for the hospital. There is an alliance between this hospital and a French university. Every year the engineers come to Burma for a few weeks to make some improvements to the hospital. The engineer showed me the new buildings and equipment they installed during the past few years. It looked very good. Simple, but clean and working. This seems to be a good way to help these people. After the visit to the hospital I cycled to the river. A very, very poor neighborhood. The scenery reminded me of Laos.


PYIN U LWIN

We took the pick up truck to Pyin U Lwin. On the way up you see the poverty and when you keep your eyes open you see the forced labour. I had a conversation with the chauffeur about Dutch football. Here they play golf he said, but only the rich people and the army people. Pyin U Lwin is a bit disappointing. Maybe it is the guest house where we are staying (Ruby guest house). It is depressing and dirty. We spent a few hours on the market. I like Asian markets, it are the best places to see the local people and there is always something amusing to discover. We had tea at a tea shop. After a while an elderly woman joined us at our small table on the pavement. She began to talk to us in Queens English, ordered more tea and sweets and told us about her life. Her name was Sheila and she was in her seventies. Between the lines she fully admitted that she used her education to talk to foreigners and ask them to support her with a few dollars. I really enjoyed her style. During the evening Pyin U Lwin changed from a dull town into an entertaining place to walk around. Some people here seem a bit shady.


MANDALAY (again)

Early in the morning Pyin U Lwin looked a bit like a desolated village in a wild west movie. A very peculiar atmosphere. We had a nice breakfast of banana parati and milk tea. It is completely accepted in this country that I'm in charge of the money and not Albert. We took the pick up truck to Mandalay.

On my own. First to the market, Chinese style and that means load and loads of the same stuff. Now I'm on the grounds of a beautiful paya. Lots of buddha's, the tinkling of bells, shade of old trees, the buzzing of children voices and a little breeze. There is a beautiful tiled floor in pastel colors. I found a place to sit with a view on a silver Buddha and two old women. I want to stay here for the rest of my life and forget all my silly (and serious) worries.

In the afternoon we spent some time in a tea shop. Being small is a blessing when you have to sit on these small, low stools. First a Sikh takes a seat at "our" table. He has a mobile phone and drinks his tea in a hurry but he is hospitable as his faith demands him to be and he insists on paying for our tea and sweets. Our next companion was a vicar who spoke a little English but it was almost impossible to understand what he was trying to tell us.

During my absence this morning Albert was offered a Burmese woman by a taxi chauffeur. We already made jokes about the purpose of the cell like rooms on the first floor of our guest house but they are seriously used by prostitutes.

We had dinner in a Shan restaurant and afterwards we walked into a kind of street festival, fun fair. A few merry go rounds and lots of children exploiting home made games. A boy of about 7 years old acted as a fully qualified croupier in a kind of roulette game. They sold paya's made of cigarette cartons and of course lots of snacks. A little boy and girl were singing and making music with little drums, rattles and bells. It was moving to hear these clear voices and see these big brown eyes, surrounded by kohl, in the small faces. Very nice to walk around and smile back at all those smiling people. Like this morning on the temple grounds it is impossible to catch the atmosphere in a photograph, so my camera stays in my bag and with all my senses I enjoy this moment and store it in my heart.

A day of leisure but with a lot of information about the awful circumstances the people are living in. There is a lot of hunger up in the hills. There is enough rice in Mandalay but the people are not allowed to bring it into the hills. The government takes the rice. People have to pay for all the medicines they need, also when they are admitted in a hospital. The medication costs a lot of money and is of very poor quality. Almost everything I have seen is much older than the date of expiring and it is certainly not stored in a refrigerator. The universities are closed since 1996. The government blames Aung San Suu Kyi. The real reason is that it is a threat to have all students gathered in one place. Besides it is more safe to keep the people ignorant. Not that the universities were that good. They study chemistry without ever seeing a laboratory on the inside. Doing an exam implied learning by heart a part of a text and reciting it (or you could pay your way out). The percentage that succeeded was high, good for the statistics.


BAGAN

We took the slow boat from Mandalay to Bagan. It takes a whole day, but it was nice to stare at the riverbanks. A lot of poverty on the banks and on the boat itself. People searched the wastebasket on the tourist deck, hoping to find something useful.

We spent the day cycling around, visiting paya's. This place is incredibly full of them. It looks like a moon landscape scattered with paya's and the remains of them. Some are really impressive. I liked the Ananda paya most of all. It is very big and there are four beautiful standing Buddha's inside. One of them has the Abhaya mudra. Today we met Maung Maung a horse cart driver. This evening he picked us up and we went to his village. On the veranda of his bamboo house we were spoilt with a fantastic dinner. From the other side of the table the whole family watched us eating. It made me feel uneasy. We tried to eat enough to be polite and to leave a lot on the table knowing that they would eat it when we were gone.

Today we visited again some paya's, including Shwezigon Paya. It is described as the most beautiful paya of Bagan. And yes, it is spectacular with all its gold glittering in the sun, but it didn't move me like the Ananda paya did. We spent some time sitting in the shadow, looking at this building, talking about religion being opium for/from the people.


NYAUNGSHWE (Inle Lake)

At five in the morning we took the bus to the Lake district. The road was in a poor condition sometimes and the suspension system of the bus not too good, but the scenery was beautiful.

Didn't do much today. Cycled around. It is not possible to reach the lake on a bicycle. Why should you make a road when you have a river and a boat?! It took quite a few dead end roads before Albert realized the logic of this situation. We talked a lot today about work, plans for the future, travelling together for a year or so. We have fun. This trip is good for both of us.

What do they do with the corps when somebody dies? I didn't see grave yards or cremation sites. The lady of the guest house has a heart condition. She had to pay $15 for an ECG and a blood test. That's a lot of money in this country. She showed me all the tablets she is taking and asked me for an explanation of their effects.

Today we made a boat trip. First to a market, partly a tourist trap, but with a lot of local people. A little boy followed me for about 15 minutes, saying nothing, only staring at me. I talked to him in Dutch and even that didn't change the expression on his face. At last he said "Hello" and disappeared. On this market you could buy all kinds of intra venous medication (exp. date: 1997). We visited an almost deserted village. There was a long gallery up a hill finally arriving at a small paya. This paya was surrounded by a lot of little stupa's, a lot of them were almost overgrown. The wind made the bells on the stupa's cling, a peaceful sound. A weird place with a nice atmosphere. At the Nga Phe Kyaung monastery we saw the famous jumping cats. The cat jumps through a hoop that is hold up by a monk. Amusing, but more beautiful is the collection of Buddha's in the monastery and more interesting are the toilets. The toilets are cubicles with a kind of saloon door (western style) and a hole in the bottom right above the lake.

We did a "trekking" yesterday. The lady of the guest house who organized the hike promised us many, many villages. We saw exactly ONE village. Well it was a good fitness training. The village was very poor. The clothes the people were wearing consisted more of holes than cloth. The Lonely Planet guide names a literacy rate of 81.5%. I don't understand how they come to this high number. Most of the children I see are not going to school. The children in these kind of villages definitely never see a classroom on the inside.

We are waiting for the bus in the direction of Rangoon now. This morning we visited the market of Nyaungshwe. Beautiful people. I love markets. A little boy wanted to give us something. My first reaction is to refuse it because I expected that he wanted something in return. But he handed me a sweet and said hello, that was it. He only wanted to be friendly like the little boy who gave me a flower yesterday. This Asian country isn't spoiled yet. Please let it stay this way for some time.


BAGO

The bus trip took 19 hours, but the bus was very comfortable, so no problem. On the video they showed a Sylvester Stallone movie and a Burmese version of Romeo and Juliet.

Bago is dirty and dusty and the humidity is a lot higher than at the Lake. After a few hours of sleep Manni, a trishaw driver showed us around. I knew his name from a web site about Burma and like they say he is really worth the money. His English is reasonable and he knows a lot of nice places. First we went to the Shwemawdaw Paya. Outside of it there is a sign with the text: "Please provide necessary assistance to the international travellers". It doesn't make my opinion of the government any better. Manni took us to a very big monastery. It is impressing to see all these monks study the Pali language. Even more impressive is the very big pot they use to cook food for 1000 monks. Finally we visit the reclining Buddha. Measuring 55 metres it is bigger than the one in Bangkok, but I liked that one better. Manni is a good source of information. I liked the hours we spent with him.

We booked a taxi for the trip to the balancing boulder temple of Kyaiktiyo. We leave at 7 o'clock after seeing the monks (about 500 of them) going on their alms round. It is a 2-3 hour drive. After that we have to wait for almost an hour for the truck to fill up with people before it departs for a trip uphill. Thats not the end of it. We have to walk uphill for 45 minutes before we reach the famous balancing boulder. The trip down with the truck is a good test for the stomach (and the nerves).



YANGON


We have an early breakfast in the tea shop opposite the hotel. They have a remarkable cigarette lighter made of an old dynamo. It takes about 2 hours by bus from Bago to Yangon. I spent the afternoon on the market and in the Pagan bookshop. The owner sells copied hardcovers of books about Burma. He has a nice collection.

We had dinner in New Delhi restaurant. After that we went to the Kali temple. It is a bit strange to "meet" this bloodthirsty goddess in this Buddhist environment. The atmosphere in the temple is a bit mysterious. As always I am almost impressed by it. Seeing a guy playing with a computer game in the middle of the temple brings me back to earth. We walk on the streets of Yangon and have a last cup of tea in a tea shop. I love the evenings in an Asian country.

In these few weeks I learned to love the Burmese people. I admire their capability to be very friendly and cheerful despite the difficult conditions they are living in.

Myanmar: Twenty-eight Days in the Golden Land of Burma (Part X)

"Then, a golden mystery upheaved itself on the horizon - a beautiful, winking wonder that blazed in the sun, of a shape that was neither Muslim dome nor Hindu temple spire. It stood upon a green knoll... 'There's the old Shway Dagon,' said my companion... The golden some said, 'This is Burma, and it will be quite unlike any land you know about.'" - Rudyard Kipling, in 'Letters From the East'.

Chapter Eleven - At last !... Shwedagon !

We arrived in Bago late afternoon. It's a bustling city, even more so than its bigger sisters. The Silver Snow Guest House asked $8 for an extremely hot and smelly, humid room with a minimum of amenities. Way too much ! I didn't bother to bargain because I didn't want to stay there anymore anyway. A much better option was the Htun Hotel. Rundown but very acceptable double rooms with private bath (piping hot water !) and A/C were listed in the guidebook as $25 but went for $20. After serious bargaining (I even had to walk off the property to make a point) this became $15. Always remember that there's a great surplus of rooms in Bago. Tourists hardly ever stay there; it's a place which is almost always visited 'en route', either to Yangon or Kyaiktiyo. In this knowledge you can bargain, and bargain hard !

The Shwemawdaw Paya, the 'Great Golden God Pagoda', boasts the highest stupa in the country, 114 metres of gilded splendour. It's a great site to spend a while but this privilege costs $2, though. There's also a camera fee, but for the small amount asked (K25) you get a very nice little shield you can pin on your shirt.

The entrance to the Shwemawdaw is one of the greatest I saw : it's guarded by two very beautiful, huge chinthes, each one of them carrying a small statue of a Mahayana bodhisattva (an individual destined to become a Buddha in this or another life) in its mouth. Looking over my left shoulder, standing in front of the chinthes, I noticed a big, attractive building. It's the Buddha Ahthandhamma Beik Mhan, a meeting hall. Except for its looks it's not of interest to the average traveller.

We'd seen images of it in the Shwemawdaw too, but the nearby Hintha Gon Paya is dedicated to the hintha couple which, according to popular belief, landed here in a distant past. The two mythological goose-like birds were passing over the Bago region when they got tired and needed to find a place to rest right away. Unfortunately the whole area was flooded, except for a little rock which jotted out of the surrounding water. There was only room for one bird and when the male hintha landed the female saw no other option than to stand on his back. When two Mon princes witnessed this strange scene, they saw it as a good omen and founded the city of Bago at the edge of the water.

After the water had retracted, the Hintha Gon Paya was built where the two hinthas allegedly rested. A statue of the birds marks the exact spot. Two dollars entrance fee plus a K25 photography permit make this pagoda too expensive to visit for what it is. The Lonely Planet guide states : "this shrine has good views over Bago from the roofed platform on the hilltop". I found this untrue. The views were always obscured.

Kanbawzathadi, King Bayinnaung's palace, is being reconstructed. No guidebook, except Lonely Planet, mentioned it yet. I decided to check it out anyway. A bumpy dirt road leads to the compound. A couple of soldiers were on guard but they just waved us on. We stopped at the entrance of the Bee Throne Hall and intended to have a look inside. Suddenly a caretaker appeared from the gloomy innards and demanded we'd pay an entrance fee. We were taken to a building near a small circular museum. There, amidst heads of sculptures and potsherds, a representative of the Department of Archaeology demanded $4 per person, a ridiculously high amount of money, even though it included admission to the museum. I didn't agree. I asked him if the government by any chance randomly picked folded scraps of paper with numbers from one to five written on them out of a high hat and let an 'innocent hand' determine the entry fee. He was both annoyed and ashamed. Ashamed because he was asking such a high fee, annoyed because he couldn't help it either. After a bit of negotiating I was able to arrange that we only had to pay $4 for two. For that price, however, only I could enter the museum, Kris couldn't. Unfair, but it was the best I could do.
Now that I've been there I can confidently say it's not worth it. The museum is rather well-arranged but small and the collection is very modest. The Bee Throne Hall is not worth entering, especially not if you've already been inside the buildings of Mandalay Palace. It's beautiful when seen from within the garden behind it, but I'd recommend anyone to skip this place until renovations are nearing completion. Just wandering around the grounds could have you being hassled to pay the unfair admission fee.

On the other side of the Bago river, which divides the city in east and west, lies the Maha Kalyani Sima, an ordination hall which is spoken high of in all the books. Well, I simply cannot understand why. It's nothing special, there's nothing really worth seeing, it even looked quite modern to me although it isn't (which is not surprising in Myanmar - the Burmese like to renovate their religious buildings). Entrance is fortunately free; it would have been a terrible waste of money. More interesting is the Mitteya Ananda Paya across the road. This monument with four Buddhas standing back to back looks a bit similar in design to the Kyaik Pun Paya (more about that later) but the spire and the images were clearly inspired by the Ananda Temple in Bagan.

The Mitteya Ananda is one of the monuments standing on the corners of a parallelogram of streets. The other corners are made out by the Shwetalyaung-, Mahazedi- and Shwegugale Paya. We didn't visit the latter. The Shwetalyaung is the best-known reclining Buddha image in the country. 55 metres long and 16 high, it is reputed to be the most lifelike of all reclining Buddhas. The image got forgotten about after the destruction of Bago in the 18th century and was only rediscovered in 1881 by workers who were clearing parts of jungle to allow the construction of a railroad track. Visiting this paya is a must. The $2 admission fee (plus K50 to take pictures) is fair. Continuing beyond the Shwetalyaung one soon reaches the Mahazedi Paya, a recent reconstruction dating back to 1982. The earlier pagodas were all levelled either by man (King Alaungpaya) or nature (earthquakes). The whitewashed monument is a pretty sight, visible from far away, and offers good views in all directions. It's a delightful area. I'm not sure, though, whether the views alone are worth paying the two dollars entrance fee for (and of course K50 for photo cameras).

Bago is definitely one of the highlights of Myanmar, in my humble opinion. Not only does it have a lot of things to see but I also found it a very pleasant city, despite its crowdedness. And it has a wonderful restaurant : the Kyaw Swa. Although it looks very posh from the outside, with even people to open car doors, it does not at all make one feel uncomfortable. Locals even came to sit inside to watch TV. Everybody is genuinely friendly and the food is truly excellent. Contrary to what I expected, it's not expensive at all; we had paid more for much lesser meals.

Just before the meeting hall near the Shwemawdaw pagoda is a good place to have breakfast. You can't miss it; it's crammed with Burmese and you'll be lucky to find a seat right away. It offers a good view of the pagoda and so does the cafe across the road. We spent the evening at the latter; a weird experience, as a matter of fact... The young manager (more likely he was just an employee taking care of things for a richer dude) was as drunk as a lord, breaking bottles and openly feeling up his girlfriend's tits - very unusual behaviour in Myanmar, but she seemed to like it.

There weren't many customers - I wonder why ? - so I took the time to discuss some things with Phone Kyaw. As usual, we ended up talking about religion, and more specifically about meditation. I asked him why he needed it. "To be in total control of my mind." "And does it help ?", I asked. "Yes, gradually I'm becoming more powerful." I joked : "Well now, my friend, I've been in the country for almost a full month and I haven't drunk any alcohol, haven't smoked a single cigarette, didn't come near drugs or betel, didn't steal, didn't kill and haven't committed adultery. You, on the other hand, chewed betel every day and I even saw you smoke a cigarette or two. Now who's the most powerful ? You with your meditation or I without ?"



On the way out of town, in the direction of Yangon, is one final must-see : the Kyaik Pun Paya. Actually, there's not much to it, but it's very photogenic. Four Buddhas (the past, present and future Buddhas) sit back to back around a massive square pillar. The figures are thirty metres high, beautifully painted and therefore pretty impressive. It costs $2 to enter the platform surrounding the monument. The money was collected by a couple of very friendly and enthusiastic trustees. If you don't want detailed pictures of the whole thing, I advise you to not pay the fee and forego entering the grounds. The monument can easily be seen from outside without paying; one could even sneak in round the back (there's nobody there to check up on you), take a snap and get out again. If you're caught you can easily pretend you didn't know. If the people responsible for imposing an admission fee want to make sure this doesn't happen, they should sell the tickets at about halfway of the dirt track leading to the paya.

From Bago it's only about 80 kilometres (50 miles) to Yangon. The road is quite excellent but it still takes about two hours to get there because of the traffic that gets busier the closer one gets to the capital.
We first went to the airport to have our tickets reconfirmed - it was a holiday and the downtown THAI office was closed. The people in charge were rude and service was slow. They let me wait for almost forty minutes, while they stood around doing nothing at all - chin on their hands, arms on the desk - just to tell me reconfirming was unnecessary.

Downtown, Kris and I went for a walk in the nearby Mahabandoola Garden, which is smaller than I expected but nevertheless a very pleasant to spend a while and a good place to meet locals. It costs K10 to enter plus another K50 if you want to take pictures. The park is most visited by young couples for whom it's a place to get away from it all and secretly hold hands. Eye-catcher in Mahabandoola Garden is the 46 metres (150 ft) high Independence Monument, an obelisk surrounded by two concentric circles of bronze lion statues. Attached to the main needle are five smaller ones, symbolising the former five semi-independent states of Burma (Chin, Kachin, Kayin, Kayah and Shan) in harmonious union with their Big Burman Brother. Looking to the east I saw the splendid Victorian Supreme Court and High Court Building, definitely one of the most beautiful British-colonial remnants.

Phone Kyaw was very eager to see his family again - after all, it had been almost a month since he'd been with them. I noticed it and said he should go home. Kris and I walked to the Shwedagon Pagoda - not exactly nearby, but Yangon, sometimes dubbed the Garden City, is a wonderful place to do some walking. It was too late to enter Shwedagon - we'd go there the following day - so we visited the Maha Wizaya Paya, which is just across the road. This is a recent construction, only dating back to 1980. It has a bit of a reputation, as it is often dubbed 'Ne Win's Pagoda' because of the general's involvement in the project. Ne Win assumed power in 1962 and ruled the country with iron fist until 1988 - and behind the curtains he still does. One can effectively say he's responsible for the awkward situation the country still is in the moment I write this.

The pagoda is officially built to commemorate the first gathering of all theravada orders in Burma and is definitely a very beautiful one - one you shouldn't miss out on. At least, on the outside it's a wonderful sight. Inside it's not very impressive, with silly papier-mâché trees and on the ceiling a painted representation of the constellations.

Entrance is free but the pressure to give donations is enormous. I entered and passed a donation counter. The lady behind it strongly exhorted me to give. Now the problem was that I was almost out of small change - in fact I was nearly out of any Burmese money. I looked and only had a couple of K1,000 notes left but I surely didn't intend to spend these here. I would have probably given something when I left, but now that I was pressed I just didn't feel like it anymore. My small money totalled sixty Kyats and that was what she got. Man, was she annoyed. She threw the money on her table and uttered several insults, which fortunately for her I couldn't understand but the intonation left nothing to the imagination. I asked a Burmese visitor what she was on about. He told me she had just said it wasn't enough. I told her this was bloody rude of her and that she apparently didn't understand what religion was about. If she was there just to extort money from visitors, she didn't deserve to be there in the first place. Either they impose an entrance fee - and like I mentioned before, I'm against admission fees for functional religious sites - or let the people enter and leave in peace, leaving the decision to give or not to them. Hell, I was so angry with her. I never raised my voice or visually lost my temper, though, but I would have if this had been home.

The mighty Karaweik entrance in the stern of the 'ship'Near Kandawgyi Lake we found a nice place to stay : the Green Hill Inn, No. 12 Po Sein Road, Tamwe Township. Double rooms (always incl. a poor breakfast) come at $10 (private toilet and shower but no hot water or A/C), $16 (A/C, private toilet and bath tub with hot water) and $22 (same as the previous one but with TV and telephone). Bargaining is possible and gets you about $2 off. It's a bit run-down but still clean enough and has a friendly Indian manager.
After having checked in, we went for a stroll around the lake. It's impossible to walk around it inside the fencing. We could only visit a couple of small parks, one which wasn't worth it (it's located near the eastern end of Natmauk Street). Entry was always K10 plus K50 for photography, but sometimes the ticket sellers tried to get K200 from us, so beware. The little parks are mainly used by couples; young lovers sit on the most remote benches or on the grass behind bushes, secretly holding hands, perhaps they even exchange a kiss on the cheek - innocent actions but frowned upon when done openly in the street.

Kandawgyi Lake is also the location of what is probably the best restaurant in town : the Karaweik. Built to look like the Burmese kings' floating palace resembling the mythological Karaweik bird, it's a fantastic sight. Some may find the concrete construction kitschy and fake but I loved it. Every night performances, including Burmese dance, marionette plays and circus-like dexterity acts, are staged. They're incredible value for money at K1,500 per person because for that you also get an all-you-can-eat buffet. The food, ranging from soups to desserts, is very clean, very varied and very tasty. The performers in the show are professionals and bring very entertaining acts.

The price can be kept so low because the restaurant overcharges the drinks. There's an easy way to overcome that : just say you only drink water, it'll be served on the house. Also, make sure you sometimes get up and go and have a look-see in the other hall; the performances are different.

The Karaweik is huge, much bigger than what you'd expect it to be when looking at it from the street. It's built symmetrically : the left half mirrors the right half. In the middle is the buffet room where you go to fetch your food.

In the afternoon it's also possible to have lunch at the Karaweik, albeit without dinner show. This costs K1,000, still very good value for money. Even though this is a government restaurant, at this price level it's recommendable.

I got befriended with the head waiter. He showed me the upper floors of the restaurant which are normally not publicly accessible. The second floor is for dinner parties and wedding receptions, whilst the top floor is there for official governmental meetings. Both 'decks' are nicely decorated and offer a great view over the lake towards Shwedagon. To have a look at the copy of the royal barge from the nearby little island costs K100 for guests and visitors alike, plus another K100 for taking snaps. I could get in for free because the head waiter knew me. He was a great guy and had been an international volleyball player. Most people I mentioned his name to, recognised it.

Another, but non-governmental, place where dinner shows are staged, is the Ni La Ne Restaurant, also on Kandawgyi Lake. Prices are comparable and the food is also very good but the Karaweik is simply the best, also in terms of performances. Also good, but without a show, is the classy-looking (but conveniently located if staying in the Green Hill Inn - it's down the street) Holiday Restaurant. The head waiter there is a bit of a remnant of bygone days himself; he even speaks with a near-authentic English accent. A jolly chap to talk to.



The next morning, we finally saw Myanmar's top attraction and the very essence of the Buddhist religion : the Shwedagon Paya. It's the most highly revered religious monument in the country, enshrining a staff donated by Kakusandha, the first Buddha, a water filter donated by Konagamana, the second, a bathing robe donated by Kassapa, the third, and eight hairs donated by Gautama, the fourth and present Buddha. It's absolutely fantastic. I can tell you, if you've been in Myanmar for one month you've seen your share of temples and pagodas and if yet another one still makes a big impression on you, it must be incredible. Well, Shwedagon did - and yes, it's fabulous.

Shwedagon Paya is a lot more than just the pagoda most of us know from the guidebooks and travel brochures. The stupa is just the main focal object but around it are dozens of subsidiary buildings, shrines and objects - a cacophony of colour and gold. Gold of which the central stupa has plenty : allegedly 53 metric tonnes ! There's so much that even the rain water from the platform is collected to recover washed-away pieces of the precious coating.

As in all payas there are four entrances. Tourists are supposed to enter through the western one, although there's nobody to stop if you decide otherwise. The western entrance, however, is the only one with a visible ticket counter. Tickets are $5 per person and are valid for as long as you decide to stay, but the catch is that it's only valid for one entry. If you leave, even only briefly, and want to go in again, you have to pay another five bucks. A shitty rule, especially if you want to go out to eat something (an extremely basic cafe cum snack bar - to the right shortly after climbing the western stairway - is your only option; better bring something yourself). However, it can easily be overcome by leaving and re-entering by any of the three other entrances. I tried it and it worked fine. This could lead one into believing that entering from the north, east or south is a way to get in for free. Believe me, it's impossible, and the reason is that when you pay, you receive a sticker which you must attach in a clearly visible place. There are anonymous inspectors all over, keeping an eye out for foreigners without a badge. You won't notice they're there as long as you have such a sticker. But if you haven't, you'll soon be buying one. The colour of the stickers as well as the writing on them changes a couple of times daily too, so that the inspectors can see at what time of day you entered.
Another way to avoid having to pay twice, is to pay less. Sounds weird ? It's not too difficult to get the ladies selling the tickets to accept a bribe instead of another admission fee. As long as you have the sticker this should work. Be discreet, though; this is dangerous for them.

The western entrance is forbidden area for Burmese; only tourists are allowed - and hence there are no hawkers in sight. There's room to leave your shoes, decent toilets and even a shower area where you can wash your feet when you return.

A set of escalators leads up to the 58 metres (190 ft) high Singuttara Hill on which the pagoda platform is laid out. Upstairs there were many, many people. It was the festival of Tazaungdaing and a robe-weaving contest was taking place on the pagoda terrace. From dusk 'til dawn Burmese women compete to produce robes for Buddha images. When the time limit has expired, the resulting fabrics are donated to the monks.
I gazed at the nearly 100 metres (305 ft) high golden 'winking wonder', as Kipling liked to call the pagoda. It's very, very beautiful - although even at this height it was smaller than I'd expected. I think it was down to optical delusion.

Immediately to my left was the Shwedagon Museum where many little treasures can be seen. Worth a look. I didn't, however, intend to spend my time inside a museum, so I kept the visit short. There are so many things to see up there. All the guidebooks have a detailed overview of them, but regardless I'll point out a few I think you shouldn't miss.

Continuing to the north from the museum I soon reached the pavilion housing the Mahagandha Bell, donated by King Singu in 1778. After the First Anglo-Burmese War the British ferried the 23 tonnes heavy bronze colossus off to have guns made out of it. 'Miraculously' the ship transporting it sank, taking the bell with it. The British repeatedly tried to raise it but in vain. A year later the Burmese managed to fish it out of the water using 'primitive' techniques.

Virtually next door is the Hall of Great Prosperity, housing a nine metres (30 ft) high seated Buddha image. It's the largest on the Shwedagon platform and is very attractive.

Now continuing due east, I arrived at the Hall of the Buddha's Footprint. The interior is very beautiful; two rows of gilded Buddha figures with their backs against the pillars of the building flank the central hallway which was full of offerings, mostly green coconuts and bananas. Centrally behind these is the main Buddha with in front of it the highly revered footprint, which had thus far been hidden from sight. It's actually an enlarged copy of a footprint found somewhere in the mountains. The sole is inscribed with symbols representing the Buddhist conception of the universe. Believers drink the holy water inside the print to protect themselves from evil spirits.

Across the 'street' is the Hall of the Wizards, easily identifiable by the two brightly coloured figures flanking the entrance. It's more attractive on the outside than the inside. The building is actually the western hall of the Elder Brother Pagoda (or Naungdawgyi Paya), which is the second-highest structure on Singuttara Hill. It's a smaller version of Shwedagon and actually the place where the Buddha hairs were first enshrined before the 'bigger, younger brother' was constructed.

I followed the pathway (the one running between the Footprint and Wizards Halls) in southern direction. The last building on my left just before reaching the main stupa is a real eye catcher : the Mahabodhi Temple, modelled after the original temple at Bodhgaya, India. It is totally different from all other structures on the platform; the sikhara (temple finial) is covered with bright paintings depicting stories of the Buddha's life before and after enlightenment.

To the east of this, diagonally opposite the southern hall of the Elder Brother Pagoda, is another big bell : the Maha Tissadagandha, donated by King Tharawady. The beautiful bell weighs 42 tonnes and is the biggest in Myanmar, after the one at Mingun.

Strolling south I gazed at the main pagoda once more. It's surrounded by dozens of smaller stupas. On the cardinal and inter-cardinal points there are planetary posts at which devotees pour water over the Buddha and the animal representing their star sign.

Opposite the planetary post for Monday (associated with the moon and the tiger) is the eastern stairway, the longest and most beautiful of the four. Its green roofs are stunning. It's worth going down (either using the lift or stairs) to have a look from below. The stairway is so long it's even intersected by a road !
Back on the terrace we continued to the south-eastern corner, which is probably the dullest - although that's not exactly the correct term for anything here. It is there, however, that one can find the most important bo tree of the whole platform. It is said to have grown from a sapling of the original Banyan tree under which the Gautama Buddha gained enlightenment.

Just before the southern stairway I passed the Hall of the Carrousel, where people throw coins at silver bowls placed on a revolving table. If they make a wish and throw a coin in the correct bowl, their wish is said to be granted.

In the south-western corner stands the Shrine of the Moon and the Sun. It's only a small edifice but a highly popular one. It's easily recognised by the two round golden plates above the entrance; they represent a peacock (symbol of the sun) and a hare (symbol of the moon).

We headed north, passing a glass case with two nats inside; one is Bo Bo Gyi, the guardian nat of Shwedagon. Before I knew I was standing at the western exit again. Of course I went around a few times more, but I think I've summed up the most important things to see.

Several people will try to make you hire them as a guide, and actually it's not such a bad idea. There's a lot to see, and there are many details which are easily missed when on your own, even if you have map and/or a guidebook. You can hire official and unofficial guides, but I wouldn't dare say the official ones have a better knowledge of the place. I engaged U Tun Min, an elderly guy, very religious and with a good knowledge of the English language. He was a poor chap and could use some money. He never let me down and provided me with a wealth of information. Perhaps you'll see him when you're there; if not, he lives at 45/9 Panhlaing Housing, Panhlaing Rd., Kyimyandine, Yangon.

Just before sunset a really peculiar sound, clearly produced by gongs, resounded over the Shwedagon terrace. I headed towards it. It was a Kathein procession. Kathein is a one-month period at the end of Buddhist lent during which robes and requisites are offered to the monks.

The men participating in it were dressed very colourful, very traditional. It occurred to me, though, that none of them smiled or was happy. I asked someone about it; I said : "Why do these people have such long faces ? I thought the robe offering ceremony was supposed to be a happy one ?" He said : "They don't have much to smile about. In Myanmar life is very hard and the people have no reason to be happy."

It had been a wonderful day, almost exclusively dedicated to what in my opinion certainly is one of the wonders of the new world : Shwedagon Paya.

I wanted to phone home but the central telephone office on Mahabandoola Street was already closed; as a matter of fact, it already closes at 4.30 pm, even sooner on holidays. Fortunately, there's a privately owned little office virtually next door, in Pansodan Street, near the intersection with Mahabandoola St. Rates are obviously higher than at the official office but if it's urgent, this can be a life-saver. Big was my surprise when I saw that it was even possible to send e-mails from this place. I saw it with my own eyes. It wasn't cheap (K1,000 for a short message, K1,500 for longer mails) but definitely possible.

The final day of the trip was breaking. Our plane was scheduled to leave at 8.20 pm, and we had to be in the airport two hours early, so we still had almost an entire day. We used it to leisurely see some more sights.

We saw the famous Strand Hotel, the most exclusive place in the country, and the Kheng Hock Keong Chinese temple further down Strand Road. We didn't visit it as it was undergoing extensive renovations and looked more like a construction site.

We passed several colonial buildings, and eventually reached the township of Okkalapa. There is a new complex, the Melamu Paya. It resembles a kind of Buddhist fancy-fair but everything is exceptionally well-done. Lots of colourful Buddha images and even a giant crocodile in which one can walk around. Foreigners are very much a novelty here.

The Kaba Aye Paya, close to Inya Lake, is a nice place. Although it's beautiful, particularly on the outside, one doesn't necessarily need to visit it for its looks, but because it's just a nice, untouristy place with only very nice people. They were happy we came to have a look at 'their' pagoda; there was no pressure on us to give anything at all - which is in stark contrast to the Maha Wizaya Paya. As a matter of fact, the girls collecting the donations were quite surprised I gave something at all. I bought two postcards, paid with a K500 note and told her she could use the change as a donation. She was very happy indeed and not only gave me my cards, but also added two extra ones and wrote my name on an A4-sized honorary receipt printed in golden letters. She then handed me 32 gold leaves (K15 per piece), neatly packed in a plastic cover and accompanied by a small note in Burmese, which I then had to 'post' in a dedicated donation box.
Nearby is the Maha Pasan Guha, an gigantic artificial cave resembling a sports stadium. It was built for the Sixth Buddhist Synod in 1954. It's not interesting and the guys at the door really hassled me for donations. I got really pissed off and left.

A far better place to go and have a look is the recently built (and not so far away) Shwe Taw Myat Paya, the Buddha Tooth Relic Pagoda. It looks like a cross between the Ananda Pahto of Bagan and an Indian temple. The spire has an unusual 'twist'; it's rotated over several degrees relative to the substructure - this at first looks like a construction flaw. The temple doesn't actually have a real tooth relic; it's only a copy. This, however, doesn't bother the many devotees who flock here.

Our last couple of hours in Burma we spent on the edge of Inya Lake, which is about five times as big as Kandawgyi Lake. Most areas around the lake shore are off-limits, though, because it's where government officials live and state guest houses are built. Former man in power, Ne Win, as well as NLD leader Aung San Suu Kyi have their residences here as well. It was impossible to get near these places. University Road, where Aung San Suu Kyi lives, was completely shut off by heavily guarded road blocks. Everyone approaching it was subject to (hard) questioning. Being caught trying to sneak in, would definitely result in deportation.

The best spot to head to is the dike running along Pyay Road. A stroll on it must be one of the best ways of meeting people in Yangon, especially youngsters; most of them were happy to talk. There's a lot of kiting going on here. If you're interested in having a go yourself, there are several guys renting them.
At one end there are several shady places to have a drink or snack.

From the road I hardly realised we had arrived at the airport. It's a tiny, low building. A small illuminated sign says 'Yangon International Airport' but because several lamps were broken it said something totally illegible.

I said good-bye to Phone Kyaw and thanked him for a great service. Having him around never really bothered me. He was a real gentleman and a great guy to talk to. My companion is kind of quiet by nature, so Phone Kyaw was a life-saver on the long (and sometimes tiresome) journeys. Check-in and security procedures were well-organised. We just followed directions. There were no hassles, although security was high and searches thorough. Departure tax was US$10.

The service aboard the Yangon-Bangkok flight was excellent, the cabin crew of the BKK-Frankfurt flight was unfriendly - same story as when we got to Myanmar. And Frankfurt airport was able to worsen the opinion I already had of it... Upon arrival, I searched in vain for a transfer desk that was open; we hadn't received our boarding passes for the connecting flight to Brussels yet. I decided to inquire about it at an Info desk. The clerk was one metre away from me and looking at his computer screen. Suddenly he started talking, but I couldn't figure out at first whether it was to me or the microphone he was wearing. It turned out he was addressing me, so I asked where we could get the boarding passes. We'd get it at the gate, he answered. Fine.

We went for a drink at the only place open that early in the morning, the Steigenberger Flughafen Restaurant Leonardo da Vinci. A cocky, fat waiter handed me a menu. I ordered a yoghurt. He sneered at me that yoghurt had to be ordered in the restaurant and as that was closed, I couldn't have it. There was no indication of this on the menu but, all right, "bring me a Coke then". He sniffed denigratingly and waggled off. Big was my surprise when I saw the bill afterwards : 6.30 German Marks for a small Coke ?!? That's US$3.10, ladies and gentlemen, gratuity not included !

We headed to the departure gate but couldn't get our boarding passes there. We should have gotten it from the transfer desk ?? The guy working at Transfer tried to be helpful but managed to mess up the IDs of the baggage tags and finally crashed the computer trying to undo his error. Several other people were called in; the lady who arrived as the fifth in line managed to set things right and finally, about 90 minutes later, we set foot on Belgian soil again.

It had been a wonderful, educational trip in a country troubled by political problems but inhabited by disarmingly friendly people.

Myanmar: Twenty-eight Days in the Golden Land of Burma (Part X)

"It is not enough for a landscape to be interesting in itself. Eventually there must be a moral and historic interest." - Stendhal

Chapter Ten - Finally off the beaten track

Our route to follow first brought us to Thaton, the ancient centre of the Mon people. As a visitor you cannot believe that this sleepy, leafy town once was a capital. The place has a very tropical appearance; the thoroughfare is lined with old, often decaying colonial buildings. The nice atmosphere is what makes it attractive, don't come here looking for remnants of a glorious past. There's hardly anything left. We had a drink in one of the tea houses. Immediately it was clear that Thaton is not on many people's itinerary; everybody was smiling and staring at us, right from the moment we entered. A guy - one of a table of four - stood up and came up to me and initiated a conversation. I didn't understand much of what he said but it was clear that he was trying to make friends - friendship is always highly valued in Asia. In the end he invited us over at his house. When his mates heard him do this they jumped to the 'rescue'. I could make out that they convinced him this wouldn't be such a good idea, not because of me but because of possible troubles with the police. I understood and didn't want to be the cause of problems for him, so I friendly denied his offer - something he clearly appreciated judging from the shy smile of relief.

Beyond Thaton the scenery becomes quite spectacular. In the distance rise hazy rock formations with unusual shapes from the wide, green expanse. We were looking towards the Kayin state, which is the Burmese name for Karen state. Shortly before the border there's an army checkpoint where military intelligence officers scrutinise passports. Surprisingly there's no checkpoint at the border itself, just a sign to welcome visitors. It's worth stopping there for a while; the views over the plains are very good.

A couple of miles further on, one of the curious rocks is virtually near the main road. Not only is it a wonderful sight, inside of it is the Bayin Nyi Cave, housing several Buddha images. I didn't find it very impressive after having seen the Pindaya and Maha Nan Damu Caves - however, do look for the stalagmite resembling an elephant; it may be the best thing inside - but the monastery in front of the rock is. It's very picturesque, situated behind two water reservoirs fed by hot water springs. The chief monk is a wonderful chap.

The rock is home to a huge monkey colony. Fortunately the long-tails are not (yet) aggressive here. They could soon become so, though, just like on Mt Popa. The people don't understand that feeding the monkeys harms the animals' natural feeding pattern. The primates quickly figure out they don't have to find the food but instead the food comes to them. A problem is that the visitors never carry enough to satisfy the needs of all monkeys. This can lead to internal strife in the troop and to aggressiveness towards the feeders. Of course there are hawkers selling 'monkey food' in all these places, and Bayin Nyi is no exception. Even more than caring for the monkeys, Phone Kyaw wanted to financially help the lady selling the stuff and bought several big bags of it. It took him ages to distribute it all.

There are a few simple cafes near the entrance but the people weren't very talkative. If you want to have a chat, better see the chief monk or the paya trustee near the entrance (but bring someone to translate).
A visit to this place is recommended. Foreign visitors are definitely still a novelty.

Zwe Kapin rock, Hpa-an It's a very, very beautiful region : yellowish rice fields dotted with lone palm trees, tropically lush towns and the fascinating and unusual rock formations. The most imposing of those is Zwe Kapin near Hpa-an, the capital of Kayin state; it has a very characteristic shape.
It's possible to climb it. It takes about an hour (but is killing in the oppressive mid-day heat). The view from the top is mind-blowing.

For views of Zwe Kapin itself we were directed by locals to a low hill facing it. But when we arrived on the top, the views were completely obstructed by bushes and trees. There was nothing to see up there apart from a functioning waterworks and a deserted bunker used in the not-so-distant past.

Hpa-an is lovely. There's nothing going on really, but it has a very charming atmosphere. A great place to spend a couple of days. We went to a nice little place where locals came to watch movies during the daytime and sang karaoke in the evening. Such a wonderfully friendly bunch... Incredible !

The film which was on in the afternoon was a Chinese action flick, subtitled in English. It was not only very violent but also contained a lot of sex scenes (and I mean quite expressive shots). Everybody, including a couple of early teen girls, was watching it seemingly emotionless. That is, until a couple of young lads noticed me... I had quietly entered the room and taken a seat in the back. From the moment they knew I was there, these boys shyly smiled at me every time a racy scene was shown.

A good road leads from Hpa-an to Mawlamyine. Still it's not possible to achieve a decent average speed. The problem here is not the condition of the road but the many checkpoints. The first is just before the Thanlwin river crossing. The officials are polite but the checking is thorough. On the other side of the stream we had to stop briefly but weren't checked. In a slightly wooded section of the route a shed came into sight. I thought it was yet another road tax booth. It wasn't. The shack was a checkpoint manned by a single boy-soldier - I think he was not older than twelve. He carefully examined us - not our documents - at gunpoint. He spoke to our driver about something. Once he was satisfied we weren't threatening elements, we could continue. Phone Kyaw said the boy was Karen - there are many children in the Karen resistance armies. He never had a childhood. When he was born, his family was fighting the government troops and he grew up amongst it. Such a shame... A child his age should be playing with his friends, with toys not guns. But only a person who's never seen war can think like me, I guess...

We arrived at another bridge, spanning the Gyaing river. Before we could cross it we had to undergo another identity check. And this time the military in charge were not polite ! We were shown into a small building by a guard. The two military intelligence (ain't that a contradiction in terms !) officers present were sleeping on their beds - it was clear that not many foreigners passed through here. They were very annoyed that because of us they had to wake up - something we hadn't wanted... A military policeman wearing an unusual dark blue uniform apparently made sure we didn't make any wrong moves; he was a very rude man.

The two officers tried to convince Phone Kyaw to turn back by threatening him. Phone Kyaw, however, didn't budge - he didn't want to disappoint us. The road was officially open and all documents were in order so legally they couldn't touch him. The thing is that legality means nothing in this country, so it was quite courageous of him. Eventually the information in our passports was copied (in writing) and meanwhile we were asked several pointless questions. I wonder why these guys were in charge here. They weren't even able to distinguish my passport number from my height in centimetres; they just wrote it down as one number.

It's important to stay polite at all times. There's no use in insulting the military because it will only make things more difficult for you, and even more so for the Burmese. Your driver, your friend or just the people nearest to the army men you made lose face will get a hard time because of you. Therefore I feigned a friendly good-bye to these guys. It was, however, not responded to. I didn't really care about that - I was glad we were on our way again.

We didn't get far, though. Another bridge (across the Ataran river) came up. I was surprised we only had to slow down but not stop. No check. It was a short-lived joy, though : before entering Mawlamyine we had to park the car and follow a traffic policeman to a tent where soldiers took note of our passport details. Then a security officer was sent for. The big, stately man walked out of a nearby building and was actually friendly. A very cursory glance at our documents and we were on our way again.

I knew we had arrived in Moulmein (the old colonial name of Mawlamyine) because it was the first big built-up area after a long while, but I couldn't believe this was Myanmar's third biggest city. It's very, very green, there are many buildings dating back to a bygone era, no high-rise constructions except for the pagodas and hardly any private cars, just the typical semi-wooden buses and some taxis. Standing atop the hilly ridge in the east of the city, the best viewpoint, I actually got the impression of looking into the past - at least a hundred years back. An unusual feeling manned me because this wasn't the past... This was the present day !

This viewpoint, which is on the western side of the ridge and is marked as such, is a great place to meet interesting locals. I met many there and notwithstanding they were all unique individuals, basically they all told me the same : that it is very dangerous to talk to foreigners because the secret police is everywhere. "It's like the Gestapo in Nazi Germany." The government hates the Mon people and keeps Moulmein extremely backward; instead of progressing, the city goes back in time. "Just look at this city... Is this a modern city ? It's still the same as when the British left it." It's true; it's probably hardly different. Great for us, visitors, because it's what we like to call 'authentic', but for the people who have to live there, it's a very painful truth.

The best about Moulmein is Moulmein; a walk around the city is extremely pleasing. It's a really leafy place with an exceptionally colonial feel about it and the people are very friendly and fun to talk to, although their stories often have a sad undertone. There are certainly worse things than a late afternoon stroll on Strand Road, the boulevard along the Thanlwin river which for all the world feels as if it's right by the sea.

There are many churches in Mawlamyine. The most famous is the First Baptist Church but purely esthetically speaking, I appreciated the dark red brick St Matthew's most. Joseph, the priest at St Patrick's Roman Catholic Church, invited us over and showed us around the interior and graveyard. Nothing particularly interesting but the father was interesting to talk to; his mother and father had died in the Second World War when Moulmein was bombed. Unfortunately his intentions were all motivated : as the herd of only a handful of Catholic parishioners amidst an overwhelming majority of Buddhists he was a very poor man; he hardly had money for himself, let alone for the decoration of the church. It turned out he had only conducted this 'tour' in the hope of getting a good donation. I could see he was indeed struggling, so I would have given him something anyway, but it's a pity that most of what he said and did was intentional. But then most of what we say and do, has an ulterior reason...
There are also several mosques in town. I found all of them terribly neglected, most likely because of lack of funds. The best of the lot is the Kaladan Mosque near the northern end of Lower Main road, on the way to Mawlamyine Hotel, but again : it has seen better times.

There's no lack of funds for the Buddhist temples in town. The most important ones are all located on top of the ridge I already mentioned. The Kyaikthanlan Paya with its 40 metres high golden stupa is visible from far away. For only one Kyat it's possible to take an elevator up to the main terrace from where there are great views in virtually all directions, even better than from the designated viewpoint below. It is probably here that Rudyard Kipling wrote the opening lines of 'Mandalay' : "By the old Moulmein Pagoda looking lazy at the sea, there's a Burma girl a'settin, and I know she thinks of me", although it's impossible to see the sea from here.

The landscape to the west is dominated by the huge square prison, a landmark which elicited sarcastic chuckles from the locals when they saw me staring at it.

Looking to the right I saw the Mahamuni Paya, the largest Buddhist complex in Moulmein, built in typical Mon style and named after its famed namesake in Mandalay. The main image gives an idea of how the latter would look without its thick gold covering.

The Mahamuni is connected to the Kyaikthanlan by a staircase. Walking down it, one can see the Taunglay Lone Monastery, founded by King Mindon. Also interesting, is a pavilion housing very curvy reclining Buddha, surrounded on two sides by statues of his disciples. It's an image very similar to the one in the U Zina Paya but bigger, newer and more beautiful.

The U Zina Paya, a wish-fulfilling pagoda enshrining one of the many hairs of the Buddha, is not terribly interesting in itself but its trustees are. They're such nice folks; I spent almost a whole day talking to them.
When I said to the younger trustee that I didn't like all the flashing, electric halos around the Buddhas' heads, he replied that he had to renovate because otherwise nobody would come. "The Europeans like old things very much; they know how valuable they are. But here... Here, the people want to break down the old stuff and reconstruct. They have no knowledge of the value of antiques. And that's mostly because they're uneducated", he said.

The eldest of the two men was kind of prejudiced towards me at first. He asked me where I was staying. When I told him so, he answered he could live a whole month of what I paid for one night in the hotel. I explained to him that not only he was exaggerating, but also that everything was relative - remembering good old Einstein. In Burma I may be a rich person, but at home I'm just an ordinary guy in working trousers and not wealthy at all. After he had admitted his wrong we could get along much better. I like to think that before trying to get to know someone better, it's important to get the misunderstandings, the prejudice, out of the way first. There are a couple of other payas on the ridge but none of them terribly interesting.

In Mawlamyine we stayed at the Breeze Rest House on Strand Road. Spacey doubles with fan and attached toilet/shower (cold water only) go for $14, no bargaining. An unnecessarily big room upstairs costs $20 and is way overpriced because it offers no extras, it's just big. I tried to pay for the room with two ten dollar notes which were perfectly legal tender, they just had been 'used', i.e. they were a bit yellowish, definitely not torn or dirty. The reception clerk as well as the manager refused to accept them. I told them I didn't see their point because every bank would except them - I even got them at the bank. They wouldn't budge and the clerk arrogantly demanded "new money". I said I didn't have any 'new money' and insisted he'd accept them. To no avail. Unfortunately I saw no real solution to my problem so had to give in, but I knew that almost no-one I'd paid before had any change, so forked out a $100 bill and said : "Here ! And I don't want any FECs in return !" A small miracle happened : it took a while but they managed to change it.
The room was very decent but I didn’t find it a particularly friendly place and the next day we decidedly left because the generator, which was virtually next door to our room, was so noisy we couldn’t catch any sleep. Definitely the thumbs down for this one, especially for the price. Breakfast is really lousy too (it’s included in the price, but is worthless).

We went 'shopping' for alternatives to the Breeze Rest House but the cheapest option we found was the Shwe Hintha Hotel, which is (much) more expensive at $30 for a double. The rooms, however, are very nice and the (mostly female) staff is extremely and genuinely friendly. The hotel's very quiet and clean and has all the mod-cons you’d expect it to have. The included breakfast isn’t something to write home about, though, and as it was quite unacceptable in the Breeze, it certainly is at this price level.

I think I checked out all the places to stay (there aren't that many) and the best is no doubt the long - established Mawlamyine Hotel. It's also the most expensive ($36 single, $48 double) and I actually only went there to satisfy my curiosity. It used to be a government hotel but is now privatised.

When the Breeze Rest House solves the generator problem and maybe installs a hot water system, and doesn't raise its prices, it'll easily be the best value-for-money in town. When we were there, though, that honour went to the Shwe Hintha.

Moulmein is not the place to go to for a culinary experience. Apart from the Mawlamyine Hotel's dining room the food is not particularly good - at least, that's my humble opinion. The Phone Gyi Restaurant (the sign is only in Burmese) has only a very small selection of Chinese fare, and unfortunately it's not very clean. As a matter of fact, the kitchen smelt unclean - to get an impression of how it smelt, cut up some chicken, don't clean whatever you cut it on and leave it like that for a couple of hot summer days. Thát smell. The dishes don't exactly come cheap either.

Better, but still far from wonderful, was the Pikin (Peking) Restaurant (also with a sign in Burmese only).
My 'secret' tip is Lashio Noodle Shop, a tiny eatery where bowls of very tasty Shan noodles are served in a friendly atmosphere. And perhaps best of all : the food is cheap. It's near St Patrick's Church, across the road. By the time you read this, however, it may have moved because the owner's rental agreement had expired. You should have no trouble finding it by asking around in the immediate vicinity of the church, though.

There aren't many destinations south of Mawlamyine which foreigners are allowed to visit and even fewer where they're allowed to spend the night. One place where we could go, was Mudon, 29 kilometres to the south. There's only one checkpoint on the way, but none of the three of us noticed it. We all did on the way back, and the military certainly remembered us - not very difficult when only a few foreigners a week (or even month) pass through. We were in big trouble initially - driving through a military checkpoint without stopping is a serious offense in Myanmar. Well, actually we weren't hassled at all; it was Phone Kyaw who got all the curses and threats. Eventually he was let off by buying a carton of mineral water from the soldiers - another one of those things they do on the side.

The road passes through a verdant area. Rectangular sheets of rubber hung over ropes to dry, leave no doubt about the local industry. Just before Mudon there are rocky formations on either side of the road. On top of the one on the left is a Hindu temple dedicated to Skanda. The outcrop on the right is crowned by the usual Buddhist pagoda.

Mudon is just a simple provincial town. The point of going there is to see the construction of the largest reclining Buddha in the world. I do say 'construction', because it's not finished yet. I'd seen a picture in a guidebook, which showed it nearing completion. Well, apparently the abbot responsible for the project didn't like the proportions of the head compared to the body and had it largely dismantled. Unbelievable, especially considering the huge amount of money involved. Nevertheless it's already very impressive. I didn't really appreciate its size (169 metres or 555 feet) until I saw a couple of welders sitting on the steel-construction of the head. It's truly gigantic ! This also shows inside : it's an extensive maze covering many floors. The foreman of the workers guided us around. Only a small shrine was completed at the moment of our visit. Sculptors were busy creating statues representing scenes from the life of the Buddha; some had been completed (and were very beautiful) but most were still being worked on. Once everything's finished, this is going to be one amazing place. Unfortunately that'll take at least five more years. Following the completion of this gargantuan, the world's biggest standing Buddha will be constructed. I heard there are plans to make it almost 250 metres (820 feet) high.

A side-road (the start of which is marked by an 'elephant gate') diverts from the thoroughfare and leads to the site. It is lined on the left of its entire length with statues of monks with alms bowls, a representation of one of the life stories of the Enlightened One.

The next day we left Mawlamyine. On the roundabout near the outskirts of town is the government's view of building a better nation : representatives of Myanmar's army, navy and air force are flanked by a farmer holding a sickle and a labourer holding a hammer. It's clear that the military are the superior forces in this country.

We returned the way we had come, via Hpa-an, Thaton and Waw. In Waw we stopped for lunch in the Yatana Oo Restaurant. The service was extremely unfriendly but the food was good.

Myanmar: Twenty-eight Days in the Golden Land of Burma (Part IX)

"It's impossible to stand by the Kyaiktiyo Pagoda and not to be
moved by emotion." - Khin Myo Chit, in 'A Wonderland of Burmese Legends'

Chapter Nine - A balancing golden boulder

Phone Kyaw was visually tired. Driving many miles on deteriorated roads, in unpredictable traffic, can really take the stuff out of you. Joyous donation collectors en route to Waw The leg from Taungoo to Payagyi offered pretty much the same scenery (and road quality !) as the route from Pyinmana to Taungoo. At Payagyi a side-road goes east towards the town of Waw, traversing a rice cultivation region intersected by irrigation canals. The road is constructed on top of a dike; there is no shelter, no shade whatsoever, so it's very hot. It was here, dazed by the sun, that Phone Kyaw lost it. I had noticed he made abrupt steering corrections without reason; from experience I know it's a clear sign of fatigue. Suddenly he steered into the verge, just a millisecond away from driving off the three metres high dike ! With a lightning intervention I grabbed the steering-wheel and brought the car back on the road. Yes, our driver had indeed fallen asleep. He was very ashamed because he had let us down. I didn't see it that way. I didn't shout at him, I wasn't upset - after all, it had been extremely hard times for him. I just told him to pull over as soon as he found some shelter from the scorching sun. A lonesome old tree provided just that. A troupe of donation collectors had set up 'camp' near it. Two of them were dressed like a buffalo while a third was trying to 'control' it. All of them were dancing like mad, clearly high on alcohol. They freaked out even more as soon as we got out of the car; they were not used to having foreign spectators and really outdid themselves. While we were entertained, Phone Kyaw freshened up a bit and bought some betel, something he had done every day anyway. He was one of the many betel addicts in the country, or should I say the continent ?

After he had reassured me he was all right, we said farewell to the friendly group of people, not forgetting to make a nice contribution to their cause, and continued to Waw, which wasn't far away anymore.
Waw is a pleasant and beautifully located agricultural town. About 40 kilometres (25 miles) further on is the border of the Mon state, made out by a big iron bridge over the Sittoung river. All foreigners are required to stop at the checkpoint there. Passports are checked and persons registered, including the Burmese accompanying the foreigners. One of the soldiers at the checkpoint kept hassling me for cigarettes (which I don't have as I don't smoke). His colleague almost destroyed my Burmese visa by putting my passport in a water puddle on his table.

Not far beyond the first bridge we needed to cross a second, but smaller, one. We were stopped by the soldiers guarding it. Not for an another identity check, no, they just wanted to sell us a calendar for K250. Adorning it was a nice-looking elderly lady covered from head to toe. In the West a pin-up would have been depicted instead, completely nude except for a string. People working for the state, for example soldiers, earn not more than K1,500 per month, so they have to do something along the side to be able to support their families. Although over 80% of the population (and thus several military as well) is in favour of the democratic NLD, many are forced to take up a government job to try and make a living. Some youngsters join the army to be able to get out of the parental house; leaving home to go and live alone is just not on in Burma.

Phone Kyaw, a very charitable person, bought a calendar although he had no need for it. When I told him what a noble individual he was, he revealed to me that he intended to become a monk in the future. Once he knows his family (a wife and five children) are sufficiently supported to make their own living, he'll go into a monastery.

The road to Kyaikto is rather boring, a fact which was enhanced by grey clouds and a slight drizzle. Kyaikto mustn't be confused with Kyaiktiyo. The now famous balancing boulder shrine of Kyaiktiyo is part of the township called Kyaikto but the two places are actually 20 kilometres (13 miles) apart. The area around Kinpun, the base camp for Kyaiktiyo, is pleasant with oil palm-, cashew- and rubber tree plantations. Upon entering the town, a to Burmese standards hefty road tax is collected.

Kinpun basically consists of a road which merges into a footpath leading up Mt Kyaikto, to Kyaiktiyo. Restaurants and numerous souvenir shops line both. There are also two basic places to stay. We decided to bunk for the night at the Sea Sar Guest House, attached to the well-visible restaurant of the same name right in the centre of town. That would prove to be a big mistake. The asking price for a single room was $7 (hot or cold water in the private bathroom made no price difference !), $15 for a double. After hard bargaining I managed to get a reduction of one dollar on the singles; the owner wouldn't budge for the double.

This 'hotel' was one of the worst deals I've ever encountered, anywhere. The singles were awfully small and felt worse than a European (not Burmese !) prison cell. There was at least an inch of space under the door, allowing crawling insects to just walk in (the buildings are in a wooded area), so the room was truly full of different kinds of bugs. There were huge grasshoppers inside, producing a cacophony of sounds. The walls were paper thin, so when someone farted in the claustrophobic cubicle next door, it was as if he shit in your lap (excuse my language but it's the same terminology I used when complaining about it to the manager). The fan automatically rotated, pointing in all directions, and let the one curtain there was flutter like mad, allowing passers-by outside to see you lying in your bed (which is not a big deal really, but it all adds to the 'experience'). The lights could not be switched off. Breakfast was included but very poor indeed.
The next day we changed to a double room. Same problem with the door. We stuffed a blanket in the open space. The walls were no problem now but the rooms were open near the ceiling, also in the bathroom, so everything next door can be heard, even the slightest sound. Contrary to the single room, the lights in the double didn't work at all; we were in total darkness at least two or three hours before someone came to change the lamp. There was a hot shower but the boiler didn't work. The owner nicely said he'd "fix it tomorrow morning". Nice if that happens to be the time you'll be leaving... After making complaints, the owner gave us a $2 reduction and promised he'd fix things "by next year". He was an arrogant kind of person, very smug. Sometimes he asked me some questions about myself or our plans but when I cared to answer these, he wasn't even listening.

I think a better option to stay is the Pann My Thu Inn, about two hundred metres further down the road to the mountain, on the same side as the Sea Sar. Admittedly dirtier double rooms (but still acceptable) with A/C, toilet and hot water shower were $10. The owners, however, were a lot friendlier.
The Sea Sar Restaurant was OK but a bit too expensive and service was unfriendly - no surprise with the same people in charge. Diagonally across the road, right next to the Kyaiktiyo ticket office, is another restaurant. Food quality is comparable but although the waitresses were extremely friendly when we passed the joint (I heard "I love you" a few times) this turned as soon as we'd ordered.

I just mentioned the ticket office. It is indeed necessary to pay an entrance fee to be allowed on the mountain. This costs $6 per person, $10 if you're also carrying a video camera (photo cameras no problem). Buying tickets is easily avoided but the checkpoint on the top of the mountain isn't. If you turn up without a ticket, you'll be forced to buy one after all as well as pay a hefty surcharge. You can always just walk up the mountain, without visiting Golden Rock - there are no checkpoints along the way - but I doubt there would be much point in doing that.

After we had collected our tickets, we went to the departure point of the small trucks that go up the mountain. This is located down a side-street, almost next door to the Sea Sar Restaurant. Tickets for the trucks must be bought at the small counter and cost only K150. Private vehicles are not allowed on Mt Kyaikto, so it's either the trucks or your own two feet. On foot it would have taken us at least five hours to make the ascent. Normally one has to wait until a truck is completely filled up (that means about 70 people !) but we were lucky : an American lady who had chartered a truck for herself invited us to come along.
The road up is extremely steep in places with very sharp hairpin bends. The drivers know the route inside and out but one can only imagine what would happen if the brakes broke down. Still, it's not nearly as dangerous as described in the guidebooks I had read. The road is gradually being improved and safety measures (such as crash barriers) are being installed.

The trucks don't go to the very top; a relatively short walk separates it from the end station. As soon as someone disembarks, bearers present themselves, offering to carry you and/or your luggage up. The cost for this depends on the weight they need to carry. Perfectly capable of doing this ourselves, we kindly refused.
We had a drink at one of the little cafes. I observed the people outside coming and going. There was a whole bunch of weirdoes hanging around, most of them fortune tellers or 'prophets'. One of them came inside and sat down at our table. He didn't speak but made gestures that were, strangely enough, well-understood by the Burmans present. Suddenly several of them quickly grabbed a pencil and scribbled down something on scraps of paper. Apparently the 'prophet' had predicted the winning numbers of the Thai lottery, an illegal gambling game. Next, our 'guest' performed what looked all the world to me like an exorcism on both me and Phone Kyaw. "A powerful man", our driver remarked. For his unsolicited services the 'powerful man' - still not saying a word - demanded a drink, cigarettes and money. What a fake. I just ignored him but Phone Kyaw forked out again. The guy was too good for this world, even the Burmese version of it...


It took us about one hour to reach the top, passing countless stalls where drinks, snacks, religious souvenirs, spices and indigenous medicines were sold. The Golden Rock is simply stunning. I could devote a whole paragraph to describing it alone, but I won't. It's a gilded boulder topped with a stupa, balancing on the edge of a cliff, 1100 metres high. It looks as if it can drop any moment but as it hasn't done so for many, many years there's no need to worry that it will now. Someone used to be around to give it a push so that one could see it rock gently back and forth, but that practice is now prohibited.
The Burmese believe that the rock retains its unique balance because of a carefully placed hair of the Buddha. Something I like to digress... A colourful butterfly landed on the stone but it didn't budge. Proof enough that the hair cannot be responsible for the equilibrium - but then the Burmese say "it's a magical hair"... The feeling of the rock being on the verge of a ravine is largely ruined by the platform which was built all around the shrine for the convenience of tourists.

We walked to the backside of the mountain top. A mind-blowing sight was revealed to us : a green valley swept away at our feet, only to rise again to even greater heights. To our right, on a lower level than where we were standing, was a highly scenic village of yellowish bamboo huts, shrouded in white clouds. A grey mist set in from our left. The 'village' was actually an encampment built to accommodate pilgrims. Some of them stay for months, studying and meditating. Sounds like the ideal place to stay, but unfortunately foreigners are not allowed to do that. Those who want to spend the night on the mountain have only two expensive options : the Golden Rock Hotel at approximately one mile from the top and the Kyaikto Hotel, right by the boulder shrine.

Golden Rock was completely concealed by the fog when we headed back down. We decided to return on foot instead of by truck. We had the time and it's a very agreeable walk. The views down are often fantastic. Like I said before, there are many little shops alongside the trail, most of them selling all kinds of bamboo stuff (they even have bamboo machine guns !) but most fascinating were the Chinese medicines. The nastiest stuff is on sale here : huge and disgusting looking millipedes, monkey blood and skulls, tiger moustache hairs, snake skins and roots which will supposedly give a man a rock hard erection. Seeing these rather unusual ingredients initiated a discussion between me and Phone Kyaw about the (dis)advantages of traditional medicine. He reckoned these things were indeed beneficial to a patient. I expressed my doubts about the effectiveness of grinding a monkey skull into a powder to be used as a base for a potion to cure burns. I explained that traditional medicine, especially in China, was responsible for the (near) extinction of several species of animals. He took my points but didn't seem to understand the extent of them. I continued by asking him if traditional medicine could cure a disease like trachoma. He said that was indeed possible using a mixture of herbs. I answered I could easily cure it using antibiotics (provided it wasn't in a later stage); "if herbs can do the same then why do so many people who don't have money to buy the Western drugs suffer from the disease ?" "Ah, but it needs the healing power of a powerful monk and the time needs to be right. Powerful monks can cure any disease if the stars and planets are in the right position." I said I didn't want to dispute his explanations but found it a very cumbersome and unreliable method. "And if these monks can cure any disease then why haven't they found a way to cure AIDS ? And why, before the invention of penicillin, people died of infections which are nowadays considered as 'banal' ?" Phone Kyaw ignored my last question - it was rhetorical anyway - and continued about AIDS. He laughed away my comment about the monks but sighed : "A.I.D.S. is a big problem here..." I knew. Reliable sources report over 400,000 HIV positive persons in the country. The problem is worse than in Thailand because the government denies the problem rather than admit to it, despite the hopeful ad just outside Yangon airport, warning newly arrived visitors. What's more, a woman buying condoms to protect herself is subject to arrest for prostitution, and likewise is anyone carrying syringes considered a drug abuser. Even if the government started taking measures right away, it would probably be too late because the disease is already too widespread. Every day new cases are added to the already astonishing grand total. There are several reasons for this : Burmese women returning home after having worked in Thailand as prostitutes, Chinese businessmen paying big money (well, in Myanmar it is) to 'do it' with a Burmese virgin, poor blood screening, drug abuse and the connected sharing of dirty syringe needles and the rape of women in minority villages by the military (this is seen by the army staff as a way of defeating the enemy, so is not punishable). All these things happen on a large scale, definitely larger than what is generally assumed.
Phone Kyaw said if there's one thing foreigners should refrain from when coming to Myanmar, it's having sexual intercourse with Burmese women. "The risk of getting A.I.D.S. is very high but not only that... The girls here are very ashamed and having sex outside a marital relationship will ruin their morality for the rest of their lives." Personally I think that someone who traverses half the globe just to get laid, is a rather sad individual...

After about four hours - we had taken a couple of breaks - we arrived at Ye Maung Gyi Camp. We had a drink in one of the cafes there, all run by women. Suddenly a heavy rain shower broke loose. Fortunately it didn't last long but long enough to make the trail very slippery.
An hour later, we arrived back at the Sea Sar, tired but content.

At night we discussed where we would head to next. The South provided us with another chance to get off the beaten track. I wanted to go to Mawlamyine. Phone Kyaw said we could go there by way of Kayin state. Although the Kayin state is largely inaccessible because of 'insurgences', the southern part can be visited. Sounded like a great idea...

Myanmar: Twenty-eight Days in the Golden Land of Burma (Part VIII)

"Mystical. Magical. Outrageously picturesque. These and many other words have been used in attempts to describe the fairy-tale land of Inle Lake and the amazing Inthas who populate its shores and its surface." - Wilhelm Klein, in Insight Guides' 'Burma (Myanmar)'

Chapter Eight - Leg rowers and floating gardens

Just out of Hsipaw women - and only women - were trying to save what was left of the rice harvest. Most of it had been flattened by the rains. I tried to find out how much damage had been done in the region but they were so shy, they just kept their heads down and didn't reply. As soon as we got back in the car they all looked up and I heard them chuckle.
Someone whose name I can't mention here told me all farmers are required to sell a fixed part of their harvest to the government for a price which is well below the going rate. The government allegedly resells it to the regions where it's needed most - if you ask me, it goes straight to the military camps - but no matter what, the thing is that it's desperately needed in the Shan state and the regime refuses to sell even a grain to the people there. The result is that they need to import rice from China, where they have to buy a quality lower than the worst in Burma but at a price higher than that of the best Burmese variety.

The car needed fuel. The black market price here was a whopping two Dollars per gallon ! In remote regions the cost of fuel is much higher. Like the rice it's imported from China but, contrary to rice, the quality's better than what the Burmese manage to refine. And that's noticeable : the engine doesn't pink as much.

Eight miles out of town a small track diverts from the main road to the left and leads to hot springs. They're not very impressive but the area is delightful. Most of the rice in the fields around here was also lost. The inhabitants of the small village nearby, very sad about the big loss, were busy separating the chaff from what they had been able to reap.

Our goal was Inle Lake but as that's about 550 kilometres (344 miles) away, we knew we needed a night stop in Mandalay. Phone Kyaw really went for it and when we were about to reach Pyin U Lwin, we still had a lot of time to spare. Twenty-seven kms (15 mls) to the east of town is another cascade, the Paik Chin Myaung Falls. This waterfall is higher and more impressive than the Pwe Kauk Falls.
Nearby are the Maha Nan Damu Sacred Caves, a pleasant and extensive cave complex in which scenes from the Buddha's life are depicted. It's a very popular spot, probably because it's one of those relaxed theme park-like attractions. Most of the stuff inside, including neon lighting, has been donated by military leaders and government officials and their families "to abate for sins committed". I doubt it will help them...
Entrance is free but a K50 photography fee applies. Care has to be taken : walking barefoot over the slippery pavement and cave floor can be treacherous.
When we emerged from the caves it was raining heavily, a change from the last few days which had been dry. We found shelter in one of the many little restaurants lining the parking lot.

I hoped the rain wouldn't last long. We were lucky... By the time we arrived in Mandalay it had stopped. We checked into the hotel, had lunch and then went to the Zegyo Market, Mandalay's principal. It's not at all a market, more like a big supermarket consisting of individual stands. Most goods are on sale there and if you're looking for something, there's a good chance you'll find it. I was looking for saffron, as Mr Book had told me. It was not so easy to find but finally we located an Indian spice merchant who had it stowed away somewhere. Saffron is so expensive, the Burmese cannot afford to use it in their cuisine and therefore it's rather difficult to find. The same goes for chocolate, by the way.
The spice was costly for the Burmese but dead cheap for me. I paid K440 (about $1.30) for an amount which would cost me $4.50 at home. It was a good quality so I bought several boxes.

We made an early start the next morning. It was a bright sunny day. The first leg of our route was Mandalay to Thazi, the start of the so-called 'Thazi-Taunggyi Corridor'. It was rather straightforward.
Near Thazi - in the township of Yimar Pin, I believe - is the most famous restaurant of the area, the Pan Cherry. All drivers, whether by car, bus or truck, stop here to eat or have a cup of tea or coffee. It's very conveniently located, roughly halfway between Mandalay and Taunggyi. The food is nothing fancy, but it's very safe.
Because Inle Lake is probably the second-most important tourist attraction in Myanmar, after Bagan, I thought the road leading to it would be very good. Big was my surprise when I saw the worst road we had traversed so far. It was absolutely terrible; often we couldn't go faster than 20 kph. Getting to Inle Lake turned into some kind of adventure with washed-away roads, mud slides and potholes deep enough to accommodate truck wheels. In several places soldiers (yes, soldiers) and working crews were clearing the thoroughfare. The mountain views and the extremely lush vegetation everywhere I looked were simply stunning.
We simply passed through Kalaw and Aungban without having a look around because there was no time; we had to move on. A grinding 12 to 13 hours after we'd left Mandalay, we arrived in Nyaungshwe, the main base for visits to Inle Lake. It was already dark.
We checked in at the Evergreen Hotel, picturesquely located near a stream running through town. Run-down doubles with fan (no A/C) and private toilet/shower (hot water) were $15 but could be bargained down to $12. Breakfast is included but not terribly good. The management and staff is quite disinterested and could do with a change of motivation but the hotel has one big advantage : the very quiet location, a virtue in this country !

There's no lack of eateries in Nyaungshwe. We chose the Shan Land Restaurant, near the canal to the lake. All places were infested with little grey flies and the Shan Land was no different but it was possible to sit on the balcony upstairs. Light was dim there, and thus the flies were not attracted. Actually it was a very cosy place to eat and while the evening away; it would be quite suitable for a romantic tête-à-tête. The food was good and the service very friendly indeed.
Two young Burmese men were sitting at a table next to us. One of them turned his head towards me and started talking to me in French. He said he and his friends were students from Mandalay; they were travelling around in their own country to write a guide book. He summed up several hotels and restaurants around Inle Lake and reviewed them, saying which to go to and which to avoid. He seemed like a friendly dude. He then continued by telling me he'd tried the boat services and they sucked. He knew how to arrange things cheaper and wanted us to join him the next morning. Kinda weird behaviour for a researcher, I thought.
My suspicions soon proved to be well-grounded. Everything went really fast suddenly... Our 'friend' poured down half a bottle of hard liquor, was totally wasted in no time, repeated the same boring stuff over and over again, stood up, went to a Burmese girl sitting a couple of tables away, made indecent proposals to her (causing the girl to feel extremely ashamed and leave), tried to stagger back to his seat but did only make it to a table where a single traveller until that time had been enjoying his meal, grabbed the bloke's pint of beer, bottomed it, then fell on the ground, almost comatic. The Shan Land staff had seen it happening and asked the fellow to get out. But he was too far away, he didn't even hear them, so the waiters escorted - no, dragged - him out. I saw them putting him into a rickshaw, where he lied the rest of the evening sobering up. After the incident, the entire hotel staff including the manager came over to apologise. It turned out the 'travel writer' was a rickshaw driver - so he was lolling in his own vehicle - not from Mandalay but local and infamous as a con-artist. He'd stolen money and a pair of sunglasses from tourists and had been jailed for it.
Phone Kyaw and I talked for pretty much the rest of the evening only sometimes interrupted by loud applauding and exclaims of enthusiastic appreciation... tourists attending a dinner show at the Hu Pin restaurant, probably the best in town. Hu Pin is something like a godfather in the Inle region. He owns most important businesses or at least is involved in them. Even the motorboats on the lake carry his name.

The next day began grey. I expected it would start raining any minute. Nevertheless we were set to make a boat trip on the lake. There are two options : canoe or motorboat. The former allows you to go in places where the motorised version cannot go, but obviously they're not suited to fully explore a lake as big as Inle Lake. Our time was limited so we preferred to go by an engine-propelled vessel.
The government collects $3 from everyone entering the area, either in advance from your hotel or when you start out by boat. We had the fee added to our bill.
Hiring a boat for the day cost us K1,200. It's basically a longboat in which a couple of chairs have been placed for the 'convenience' of tourists.



The lake, averagely 19 kms (11.9 mls) long and 8 kms (5 mls) wide and at an elevation of 1,328 metres (4,354 ft) above sea level, is very scenic with hills lining both sides. It is home to the Intha, which means 'Sons of the Lake'. This tribe only lives here; once a minority, they now number around 100,000, distributed over 37 villages on and around the lake. The men have become famous in the world as 'leg rowers' because they've developed a unique technique to move their small canoes around.
Inle lake is very shallow and full of plants, mainly water hyacinths. They would make it very difficult for the fishermen to see the fish if they were sitting down, so they stand up, row with one of their legs and meanwhile scan the surface for tiny air bubbles or ripples. When he detects these, the Intha fisherman takes his conical trap (often with a length of 2-3 metres), positions it over the correct spot and swiftly pushes it down with one foot, using the remaining leg to immobilise the boat with the oar. A ring upholding a net around the bamboo framework of the trap is then released and any fish within its range is captured (often only one at a time !).
The fishermen operate in the open lake and thus we could see them almost as soon as we'd left the narrow channel connecting it with Nyaungshwe.
The submerged weeds can also entangle oars and boats; standing up the Intha can circumnavigate them. Our boatman needn't do that. Not because he was such an experienced operator - he wasn't at all, actually - but because the propeller can deal with the plants. It did feel as if the boat was temporarily held up by an invisible hand but never did it cause any problems.

This is another one of those places where the people have become tired of all the attention, just as in the Mahagandhyon Monastery in Amarapura. The 'leg rowers' clearly have enough of being just photogenic objects. Just imagine yourself busy fishing in the middle of a lake. From different sides motorboats speed in your direction, chasing away the fish on approach. You don't need to expect a friendly, curious "hello". Generally speaking, that's a thing of the past and has now been substituted by the simultaneous clicking of umpteen cameras. You know a fee worth a week's pay is collected from each and every pair of eyes looking at you, but you never see a cent of that.
Not very pleasant, is it ? It definitely is not, and I felt quite sorry for these folks, as I had done for the monks at Mahagandhyon. Then I realised I wasn't looking at the complete picture. The Intha are in fact the wealthiest tribe in all of Burma. Now that may or may not mean much, but it's a fact they're not struggling to survive like the members of several other ethnic groups are. They're masters at farming and fishing but also very skilled in crafts such as carpentry, metalworking and weaving, and chances are that, upon your entering the pile village of Ywama, one of the ladies trying to sell you the most useless souvenirs is the annoyed fisherman's wife. Many of the longyis, silverware and the typical Shan-style shoulder bags one sees all over the country are produced here, right on the lake.

Unless you tell him differently, Ywama will automatically be the goal of your boatman because it's about the only place where he can collect some commission on things you might buy. This shouldn't make you wary of visiting the village, really, as it's picturesque, makes for a nice stop to have lunch and relax for a while and has a few interesting sights. If you don't want to be taken from one handicraft shop to another, just tell him to skip them. We did after a visit to the silversmith.
Every five days a floating market comes to Ywama. We were one day early and intended to come back the next day, but when we heard it's primarily people trying to sell you souvenirs we forgot about it. Sure, the locals buy and sell goods at the market themselves but you will be surrounded by canoes full of junk. At least, that's what I was told by other travellers; like I said, we didn't bother to come back.

Phaung Daw U Paya, opposite the main landing place in Ywama, is the holiest shrine in the southern Shan state. This 'Pagoda of the Royal Barque' was built in the 1960s to accommodate five Buddha images brought back by King Alaungsithu from Malaysia. The small statues are enshrined in the centre of the pagoda and have been so extensively covered with gold leaves that they're completely deformed and now look like shapeless lumps of gold. The devotees don't care; they know there's a Buddha somewhere underneath...
In a wooden shed nearby, on the lake, the royal barge can be seen. It's a beautiful processional boat but it's not possible to get up-close to it without wading through the water (which was deep enough not to attempt it).

It was well in the afternoon when we left Ywama. We were taken to the floating gardens, another attraction unique to the lake. The Intha hardly had any farmland but they were inventive and created gardens afloat on the lake's calm waters to grow their vegetables. Left to its own devices it takes about fifty years for the combination of water hyacinths and silt to produce a fertile floating deposit. Some farmers, however, create the gardens themselves by weaving reeds together. On sections normally 100 by 2 metres (328 by 6.5 ft) big tomatoes, courgettes, salad and several other vegetables are grown with weeds and mud dredged from the lake as fertiliser.
Normally it's possible to walk on the gardens but due to the previous, heavy rainfall the soil was so soaked it was not really feasible.

The day had started out totally overcast but by now the sun was burning down on our heads mercilessly. The combination of intense sun light, water glare and the higher altitude filtering out less UV rays could potentially lead to sun-stroke. Stupidly, I'd forgotten to bring a hat of some kind.
We docked at the landing of a rather run-down monastery in the middle of the lake. I couldn't believe at first that this old and desolate-looking complex with its rusty metal roofing-plates was the Nga Phe Kyaung, the 'Jumping Cat Monastery' from the guidebooks and tourist brochures. It looks a lot better inside than outside. There were a lot of tourists inside, waiting for the 'show' to begin. The chief monk was just sitting there in a chair, talking to some lay people. A monk in his early thirties, I'd guess, was talking to a couple of attractive French ladies in pretty transparent shorts. It was annoyed and with a sigh that he stood up to give a demonstration with the cats. With an impatient "Here !" he wanted everybody to line up to take the snaps they wanted. The cats jumped through little hoops and through his arms rounded as hoops. It was a nice sight, but that's all. The monk returned to the two ladies he was talking to before; they acted even more charmed by him now, something he visibly appreciated very much. He definitely didn't obey the 227 rules of monkshood - something I was convinced of when I saw him going through a stack of Western fashion magazines full of pictures of scarcely dressed women. Not something unusual for us, but it definitely is for a Burmese monk.
Of all places it was here that I remembered I had promised the deceased old monk in the hilltop monastery of Hsipaw that I'd make a good donation in the first monastery I'd enter, and so I did. Actually I'd been in the monastery in the Shan village near Hsipaw but there I'd forgotten about it (not surprisingly).
The Nga Phe Kyaung houses something else, at least as impressive as the jumping cats : an outstanding collection of antique Buddhas in various styles.

The sun was really unbearable. I could see my skin getting more and more red while looking at it. I adore sun and warmth but here we got truly roasted. We asked the boatman to return to Nyaungshwe.
Back in the main channel we passed by the village of Nanthe, where we made one last stop to see the 700 years old Buddha in the ruined stupa complex of Kyaukpyugyi Paya. It's reached by way of an adjacent small monastery (with friendly monks) and a very attractive sight. It was almost impossible to get to it; we had to wade barefoot through foot-deep muddy water, scaring away a flock of frolicking ducks. The innards of the temple were definitely unreachable - the water would have come up to our loins - but the centrepiece Buddha was clearly visible.

It was still light when we arrived back in Nyaungshwe. I had my mind set on visiting the Shan Palace Museum, the palace of Sao Shwe Thaike, the first president of Burma, but everyone I talked to about it discouraged me from going; they said there was nothing left worth seeing. Instead we headed to the Yadana Man Aung Paya, the oldest temple in town. At the entrance we bought something that can best be described as the Buddhist's Survival Kit : a package containing dozens of candles, incense sticks, dried and fresh flowers, etc. The old lady selling them did that with such a devotion we couldn't resist. It was dead cheap.
The interesting paya contains a beautiful Buddha image in an unusual mudra (hand position). A caretaker showed us around, not expecting anything in return. When a person takes action with disinterest, when a place doesn't press me to give money, then I usually do give something.

We concluded the day with a visit to a local cheroot factory. 'Factory' is definitely an overstatement as only eight or so women were working there. The speed with which the women can make these cigars is astonishing. They recited Buddhist texts to set the pace. This happened under the watchful eye of the managing lady, literally and metaphorically speaking : she was present but also looked at the workers from a picture on the wall. The photograph of her and her husband was decorated with all kinds of flowers and stuff and looked as venerated as the little Buddha image below it.

We thought about spending one more day in the Inle Lake area but decided to visit the caves at Pindaya instead.
On our way out of town we passed the Shwe Yaunghwe Kyaung, a picturesque wooden monastery especially notable for its oval windows. One of these windows with one or two red-robed monks sitting behind it makes a great snap. Phone Kyaw told me this monastery used to be largely ignored by tourists but because of its photogenic character it is now on most tour groups' itineraries.
From Nyaungshwe our driver took us to Heho, passing the tiny airport, and then on to Aungban where a crossroad leads to Pindaya. It's a highly scenic route right through multicoloured fields; especially the yellow flowers, used as offerings in the temples, create an impressionistic scene.
This is Pa-O and Danu territory, two tribes mainly involved in the growing of dry-cultivated rice. We stopped and walked into a field to have a look at the farmers who were busy separating the grains from the chaff. It were Pa-O people, shy but definitely welcoming. I didn't get the chance to get to know them any better, though... A busload of package tourists had seen us standing there and came running into the field themselves, and without even saying hello to the people, they started snapping and videotaping away, then left as quickly as they had come. A pretty sad bunch.

I loved Pindaya from the moment we entered it. The houses of the local Taungyo tribe reminded me of those seen in mountain regions of Western Europe. In the distance I noticed two stairways leading up to one and the same point on the slope of a long-drawn series of green hills; a point marked by what looked like a glass tower. That spot is the entrance to the Shwe Ohn Hmin, better known by the trivial name 'Pindaya Caves'.
Pindaya is an extremely charming town, very relaxed, very flowery. The view from the lake towards the cave is extremely beautiful and so is the short drive thither, alongside the water, then by way of a boulevard of enormous Banyan trees.
Apart from the stairs we'd seen from a distance, there's also a road leading up to the tower-like building. In it is an elevator that takes you to the entrance free of charge but is closed during the afternoon when the lift boy takes a break.
The lift stops at a platform about ten metres higher. The view is fantastic : the covered staircase snakes down and ends near the lake, at a cluster of white stupas, part of the Shwe Ohn Hmin Paya.
From the lift a short walkway ends at the cave entrance proper. Before we could even attempt to buy tickets we were already - and I must say rather rudely - directed to the ticket desk. There we had to pay a $3 entry fee but I think it's worth every cent.
What's so special about the Pindaya Caves is that they're crammed with Buddha statues. It's estimated there are 8,094 of them. Why they're there nobody seems to know.
The view from the entrance, with a small pagoda and several exquisite images vying for your attention, is especially beautiful. Looking up in the main cave chamber, you see a gigantic rock hanging from the ceiling, apparently ready to fall. It was as if it was right there to make us realise how mortal, how puny we are. Thinking of that in the presence of thousands of Buddhas definitely made an impression; I certainly felt very humble...
A novice monk guided us to a so-called meditation cave, a small side chamber in which a kind of altar had been installed and which was used for - exactly ! - meditation. We had to enter on our hands and knees. The boy insisted to show us around further; obviously he was after some 'pocket-money' but I didn't mind, he was likeable young fellow. He led us to a stalactite which, given a good bang with the bamboo pole provided, resounds like a gong. Another eye-catcher is a small pagoda which looks like a square tower topped with a pagoda spire. Hundreds of tiny Buddha images are carved in all four sides. And finally there were the 'perspiring Buddhas', sitting images whose lacquered surface is always wet due to a chemical reaction of the lacquer with the air around it. At least that's the theory, and I know it is possible, but when we were there, I couldn't feel any condensation on them, not even the slightest drop. Someone told me it was "because of the season"...
We took the stairs down, back to where the car was parked. Small shops over there sell the tastiest crisps you can buy in the country, if not anywhere. The potato chips are fried in peanut oil.

What I needed, though, was not a bag of crisps but real food. We went to the Taik Seik Restaurant, also near the lake. I had fried noodles with various vegetables; a very cheap and delicious meal.
I'd heard about traditional umbrella-making in Pindaya so wanted to check it out. U Ohn Khing Umbrellas (no address, just ask around) is supposed to be the best workshop in town. I certainly wasn't disappointed. The people there were very welcoming and only too happy to show visitors around. The whole process was explained to us, from the pounding and drying of the bamboo pulp, the lathing of the handle and top, the spanning of the framework, up to the painting of the paper. Never, ever, have I seen someone lathe a piece of wood so fast, not even with modern machinery. The guy here pedalled a piece of bamboo to which a thread was attached. At the other end it was wound around a wooden cylinder which also contained one of the wood clamps.
This is the perfect place to watch this handicraft and learn. Admittedly, the quality of the umbrellas doesn't come anywhere near that of those from the sea-side town of Pathein but they're still nice pieces of work, especially for the price : $1-2 only.

It was with regret that I left Pindaya. I never got the impression that it was spoilt by tourism, something I somehow had expected because it's a pretty well-known place.
Back over the same road to Aungban, then on to Kalaw. We considered the older hotels but for the price asked there we could also have a very nice room at the modern Eastern Paradise Motel, Block No. 5, Thirimingalar Street. Splendid rooms with fan, TV, phone and private toilet/shower come at $10 per person, lesser rooms are available. The female staff is very friendly and helpful. The only let-down here was that unfortunately it was a bit (too) noisy.

There isn't much to Kalaw. It's just a simple small town which has no real sights to offer to the traveller. The reason why the majority of visitors bunk here is to use it as a base for treks to nearby villages, mainly inhabited by members of the Palaung tribe.
I wasn't sure about going on a trek here, so I decided to head into town and talk to some people. Of course, most of the guides in the many 'travel agencies' (actually only specialised in treks) tried to convince me trekking in Kalaw was really cool. One of the offices advertised treks to Palaung and Padaung villages. The Padaung are the tribe of which the women have the famous long necks and whose villages are normally situated in the Loikaw area, definitely not here. Later, I was talking to Kris about eating something in the local Nepalese restaurant and consequently about my dining experiences in India. A man overheard our conversation and apparently had understood what we were on about. He was of Indian descent and recommended the Nepali eatery. He turned out to be a local guide on his way home after guiding a couple of travellers around for three days. He told me there are no Padaung around Kalaw - something I already knew. The trekking agencies just use it as a way to draw travellers in, telling them the 'longnecks' are no longer there but treks to other villages are still possible.
The Indian fellow was a nice guy and his only intention at the time we met him was to go home to his wife and children, so I knew I could believe him when he said the villages in the immediate vicinity of Kalaw were over-trekked; the villagers are already very used to foreign visitors and often rather try to sell bamboo hats than talk to them. I verified this statement with Phone Kyaw. He said he'd been on a trek with two women a couple of months before and it had indeed been rather disappointing. Although a nice Dutch traveller we met at the hotel tried to convince us of the opposite, we decided to give it a miss and spend our time elsewhere.

In Kalaw I got convinced that in the Shan state a lot of women are taking care of business, more than elsewhere in the country. This had occurred to me before, but in Kalaw it was particularly noticeable. When I discreetly enquired about this fact, I was told that men in Shan state are actually very lazy and often prefer blowing opium pipes to working and caring for their families. Whether this is true or not, exaggerated or not, is beyond me but nobody came up with a better explanation.