Myanmar – Burma

Inside a forbidden land.

Should I stay or should I go….

I have always believed that I was born in the wrong era. In my ideal world, I should have either been the son of a pioneer in the early 1800’s, where adventure was still at  a peak or in the 40’s up to 1960, where there was a wave of awareness that so many uninhibited and untouched places still existed on our small earth.

If often day dream that I am in those situations, and think to myself,” would I still have the same passion for travel and the outdoors that I have now?” I mean it was not easy, the people who travelled in those times faced incredible odds and only the fittest would have survived. I am jealous of these people and so wish that I could have been involved in their remarkable journeys of discovery.

Well, “never mind the bollocks!” right?

I should just be grateful that I have been lucky enough to have experienced the same feats but on a much less hardcore way.

In the modern world, there are very few untouched places, and those untouched places will always remain untouched. With so many different opinions about countries, and so many incredible differences between the countries we visited, there are now so many considerations you have to make in order to travel to certain places. Not like back in the day when all you had to deal with were wild animals and unfriendly tribes, I would take that any day, rather than deal with immigration officials.

Nowadays there is so much paperwork that it can wear even the most ardent traveller down, in so many cases it was such an ordeal to get a silly stamp in our passports. Not only was it expensive, but the time wasted was phenomenal. To make matters worse the political situations in most countries were so volatile.  The threat of been at the wrong place at the wrong time is ever more present. We are all so dependent on our embassies and consulates when we travel, and some of them have such incredible power that with one sentence can disrupt the normal travelling habits of a country. In so many cases a Home office warning against travel in a country can have dire consequences for that country. In a lot of cases these warnings are totally absurd, but some of the warnings are serious and should not be ignored.

During my travels in Asia, there were a few countries that left me thinking, whether or not it was right to support an oppressive or corrupt government of a country, for example Zimbabwe or Tibet. For our purposes Myanmar/ Burma.

Almost all the people we spoke to about going to Myanmar all had an opinion and many were pretty knowledgeable and had some strong views. Many would not go there on the basis that they did not want to support an oppressive regime. Well, I guess “everyone is entitled to their own opinion”.

Our entry in Myanmar was to be a bit stressful, Sue was in Kuala Lumpur and I was arriving on an early flight from South Africa. I had been away in Africa for 4 months and was so happy to see my Blondie standing at the airport waiting for me, though it was incredibly humid and sticky I could not get enough of the salty taste around her mouth and neck. But the romantic moment was to be brief as we wasted no time and headed straight for the embassy.

The initial application was no problem, as we were there early, but when we returned the next day we were dismayed to find that they made a mistake on the validity of the visa, despite our desperate pleas, they could not give a damn, and we were forced to keep our cool and simply fork out more money for the extension.

So, on this note we headed off, on our cheap Air Asia flight to the capitol, Yangon.

On arrival the immigration officer picked up the mistake on the validity of Sue’s visa, as it was unheard of, and started to question the validity of the visa itself, “typical!” I muttered to myself. But to my surprise he suddenly banged his heavy stamp and bid us a cheerful goodbye. Our pleas to amend the dates fell on deaf ears, we could see the rest of the people who were on the same transfer bus waiting and tapping their fingers. The sweat that plagued us earlier now delighted us as the taxi got moving and the wind started blowing.

The streets were full of that familiar Asian chaos, they were potholed and pedestrians darted out from all over the place. The buildings at first were very Western, and the neighbourhoods we drove through reminded me of my home town of Inhambane in Mozambique. Coming from the sleek and uniform Kuala Lumpur, Yangon seemed to be what I like to call “beautifully fucked up!”

The streets were a hive of activity, vintage trucks raced passed rammed with people and goods, banged up taxis sat on every corner, despite the incredible chaos I was relaxed and knew in that instant that I would blend in perfectly here.

Yangon is an awesome city, there is so much to see and so many nice places to sit and observe the local life go by. The woman were incredibly beautiful with strong dark hair and smooth, supple skins, they moved so well in their tight skirts and white shirts. The men also wear a form of skirt and I was fascinated by how many uses this piece of cloth had. Burmese people are also devout Buddhists and the temples around the country would go on to dazzle both Sue and I. Unlike many other temples in South East Asia these were all working temples, and not tourist attractions. There is such a positive vibe in these temples, you can feel it, the people come here because they truly believe and have faith in their religion. These Temples are not only a place of worship but also a gathering place for entire communities and even a place for any person that is down and out to get a square meal and a place to sleep. Everywhere you went in the city there was a strong sense of community and family.

During my stay in Yangon I failed to see what the whole hype was, I could not understand why there was such an issue. The people seemed to be doing well and the city ticked away like clockwork. There were no signs of the military anywhere other than specific areas, mainly the areas around the embassies. I knew that I had contributed to the governments coffer by paying for the visas and the taxes while I stayed there, but on the other hand I had an awesome time and was able to give a good portion of my money to the simple Joe on the streets.

I was hooked on the slow easy pace of the city, like riding the trishaws, easy, slowly, taking the time to observe. I was hooked on the peace and quiet you had when you stepped into one of the many temples, mix this with friendly people and a good vibe and all you get is a good time.

Our journey in Myanmar was heavily restricted by the government and everywhere we went we were advised not to talk too loudly about the political situation, even though the topic was on the tip of everyone’s tongue. We were fully aware that the government was oppressing the people and that the only person that was standing up to them was a lady stuck in a house under arrest.

There were many places that you simply could not go. Our route would take us north; our final destination would be the ancient city of Bagan. The North of the country is the most volatile area in Myanmar, not only are the tribes’ resisting the government but the opium trade uses the slack border controls to maximum effect. On route would be the second capitol Mandalay once the seat of powerful emperors…

One of the best ways to meet real Burmese or any other nationality is to head for the hills and away from the cities, the cities just breed a mutated form of the original inhabitants. Once you are in the countryside the picture is always different and you get more in touch and start to see below the surface. I never understood why so many of the youth want to head to the cities. Their home lands are often so beautiful and so real and simple. The villages that we walked through while making our way to Inle Lake were perfect examples of people being able to survive and be happy. They were so friendly and almost every village oozed peace and tranquillity.

On route we were privileged to spend a night at real working monastery. We were totally entranced watching the young novices run around doing their chores. It was surreal to sit on the ancient porch and listen to those pure innocent voices reciting the scriptures. For these novices the monastery is probably their best way to lead a good and honest life, but so many of these youngsters will head off once they reach a certain age, head off to the city… it’s so sad.

The Monks that ran the place were great people and their presence commanded such awe and respect. They were so dedicated to their faith and to the youngsters. The monastery was ancient, the wood was cracking and the floor boards creaked on their own accord, but the giant support pillars stood as strong as ever. Its smooth polished floors and elaborately decorated shrines still in service after so many years. Our guide, a very well informed local from the small town of Kalaw, was great at translating my many questions I had for the monks, he was also great with the youngsters and always took the time at the villages to give first aid to all the small children who had burns and cuts.

One of my questions was, “What would you think if I was to walk around your monastery in an anti-clockwise direction?”, the reason I wanted to know was that in quite a few Buddhist temples in China we witnessed all the people walking in a anti- clockwise direction, despite the fact that in most Buddhist temples and koras, they should be done in a clockwise direction.

The monks sat quietly in the soot covered room, watching the pot boil, always rotating their well worn prayer beads. After a lengthy pause, the old monk cleared his throat and in a slow drawl began speaking, he spoke for a while and we just listened intently, I could not understand what he was saying but he looked me in the eye and spoke to me as if I could. His answer was that anyone who walked around anti-clockwise was the walking dead. Someone who as either sold their soul or does not possess one. This answer totally shocked me and in retrospect when I look back to my time in China, I could not help but think the monk must be right!

I was sad to leave this utopia, and as we walked further into the hills, the monastery disappeared into the haze; I could not stop thinking how devoted these people are to their faith. As we got closer to the lake, the noise steadily grew louder and louder, the whining engines of the long canoes could be heard from kilometres away. The tourists lined the souvenir shops, balking loudly at one another, the canoes came in and out, constantly replenishing the tourist supply. We were in a daze as we watched this, having been surrounded by peace and quiet for the last 4 days. It was not long before the drone of the tourists was drowned out by the sound of an outboard engine revving away. With his skirt hitched up and tied around his waist like a nappy, our driver navigated the waterways with skill and confidence. We just sat and loved every minute of the whole experience. Suddenly the tight waterways opened up and a vast lake spilled out in all directions.

The lake was swimming with activity, fisherman stood on their one foot and fished, cormorants and herons flew overhead laughing, and it was such a strong contrast to the dry lands we had come from. I was so amazed by the floating gardens and the fishermen, both required such incredible skill and balance; it was incredible to see how humans can adapt to their environments.

Once on dry land we bid our guide a farewell and wished him all the best, he was definitely one the best guides I have ever had. We had a nice room and it felt good to have a nice long sleep…

Reluctantly we loaded our gear on top of the bus and took our seats for the bumpy journey to Mandalay. Mandalay was very big, it sprawled out in every direction, as I walked the streets of this bustling city  once again felt incredibly relaxed and at home. Mandalay has a very interesting history, as does the rest of the country. The city is built around the Palace, and still has a regal feel to it. It is also famous for its puppet shows, back in the day this was an important art and reserved mainly for the nobles and gentry. This did not stop it from reaching the masses that embraced it and used it as a platform to voice their opinions.

Today, the puppeteering culture is still very much alive though only really in the touristy areas. The shows are entrancing and the music is intense. The puppets are so elaborately decorated and so expertly moved it’s hard to take your eyes of them.

Myanmar’s next biggest attraction has to be the Moustache Brothers. This troupe of brothers comes from a long family of professional, traditional entertainers. They also feature the puppets and know all the local songs and traditions. They are also incredibly funny… The brothers share an incredible history of resistance against the government, all having spent jail time for their controversial shows that took the piss about the government. They suffered beatings and torture beyond words but despite this they still carry on with their shows, still taking the piss… Respect!

Although Mandalay is a bustling culturally alive city, we unfortunately had to keep pushing on; we would leave Mandalay in a cloud of dust as we headed to hills of Thibaw. Once again it was in the hills that we came into contact with a number of Hill tribes, this time we headed off alone and it was awesome. We knew that if we went alone it was not going to be as interesting as if we had a guide that could translate. Undeterred we ploughed on, we had to try hitch a ride to Nam san and were not very lucky, we walked for a good 4 hours before a truck stopped and gave us lift to the next town. The vintage truck came to an abrupt stop at a small crossroads village, there were a couple of well stocked shops and some food vendors, we knew that we would just have to sit tight and eventually we would get a ride. We ended up spending the night in the house of the food vendor, and the next day we would embark on one of the scariest truck rides I have ever had. We were truly grateful to our driver when we finally arrived at our destination. The ride although extremely beautiful was tough and I was in awe of our driver and assistant, they would not give up and it was their sheer perseverance that got us through.

Our walk in the hills was once again eye opening, we came into contact with such friendly people and everyone was so social able. During my travels in South East Asia, I have never really experienced this to this degree, most of the time locals though that we were walking bank machines and we were constantly followed and hassled. Not in Myanmar, here the people seem too proud to do this, partly due to their strong faith and partly because of their proud ancestry. Once again it was such a strong contrast to the citiy of Mandalay. There were times we would walk into a village and not been able to speak English made it difficult to communicate, however it never really took very long before someone turned up and led the way home. Spending time with these humble people made me realise more and more what we are missing in the West, I have never felt so happy and relaxed in all my travels.

With aching feet we inched closer to our hotel, the rolling hills were replaced by bands of motorcycles and herds of trucks.

Our last stop in Myanmar was the ancient city of Bagan. When I was in Angkor Wat I thought that nothing would blow me away as much, well Bagan took me hostage and blew my mind once again. Although not as lush as Angkor, it was still an entrancing place to experience, the savannah atmosphere added a unique feel to it. The days were hot ad our bicycles were slow, but we could not get enough, zigzagging from temple to temple, soaking up all the atmosphere. Bagan is at its most mysterious as the sun dips behind the hills and the dust starts to settle… This ancient city reminded me why the Burmese were such a proud nation; it also reminded me how devout these people were and still are.

I guess the question still remains, should I stay or should I go?

If you stay you will be comforted by the fact that you have stuck to your principles, and if you go you will contribute to an oppressive government.

Whichever way you swing, the facts will be the same; Myanmar is a fantastic travel destination with an unrivalled hospitality and inspiring beauty. The people are curious about what is going on in the rest of the world and your support can be vital to some many, in so many ways.