Discovering Myanmar – 17 – Back to Yangon and Tour’s End

Posted on December 17, 2012 by

Hello Everyone,

The last morning at Inle Lake started with everyone taking their luggage to the hotel lobby then to the dining room for breakfast, since we had to catch a morning plane, the hotel served breakfast a little early.

On the bus it was a short 35 kilometer drive to the airport in the nearby city of Hero.  We were booked on Mandalay Airways, but other airlines also flew from Hero to Bagan, Mandalay, and Yangon: Myanmar Airway, Air Bagan and others.  Most were flying Boeing 737 jets or ATR turboprop aircraft.  We flew in an ATR turboprop, I don’t know the aircrafts age but the interior was clean and well maintained; I saw nothing on the ground or in the air which caused me concern about the airplanes safety.

The flight to Yangon took only about 40 minutes so we landed before noon and after collecting luggage quickly found the bus to our hotel.  Until that morning we weren’t sure what hotel we were going to; hotel prices and policies are changing quickly and the tour agency was scrambling to find rooms for the tours.  In the end we went back to the same hotel we’d used before in Yangon, The Yuzana Garden Hotel; the next tour however would use a different hotel.

When we checked in I was assigned to a huge suite, to bad I would only be there one night.  There were no scheduled activities on our last day so everyone in the group headed in different directions for their last sightseeing in Yangon. After cleaning up in my room I walked to the center of the city.  It wasn’t far, not even a 15 minute walk from the hotel, but it was miserably hot and humid.

The center of the old British Colonial City was a huge 5 lane traffic circle around a huge stupa, Sule Paya, said to be 2200 years old; I am sure it’s been restored or rebuilt many times since it seems in excellent repair.  Near there was a large park, across from and facing the park were many of the major Colonial era buildings, most still in use.  They seemed in good repair and the park itself was undergoing a face lift.  I strolled around the park, enjoying the majesty of what remained of the colonial city. I stopped in front of the red brick High Courts Building then headed across the park. About half way across, a lady ran up to me waving to catch my attention. Oblivious to the ticket booth at the gate, I didn’t pay the small fee to enter the park.  She was nice about it, just took my money and gave me the ticket.

From the park I headed back to the round-about and took another street to find Yangon’s famous public market.  Built by the British, it was originally named Scott’s Market in honor of the city engineer who had it built.  After independence it was renamed Aung San Market, to honor Aung San Suu Kyi’s father after his assassination.

The market is classic colonial style with two levels, with small shops looking out onto the colonnaded walkways in front.  I really didn’t need any souvenirs, but checked out a couple of tailor shops, antique stores, etc. then decided to try looking at Jade one last time.  The jewelry stores were more upscale than any I visited before, I knew that meant prices would be higher but the odds of their merchandise being genuine were also higher; some even took credit cards.  Looking through one display case, I saw a magnificent imperial jade stone in a silver ring; exactly the type of stone I’d been looking for, although I wasn’t interested in the setting.  I asked to look at it and the lady gladly took it out of the case for me; it was priced at 1.2 million Kyat which converted to $1500, a lot more than I wanted to spend.  My tastes in jewelry didn’t match my wallets ability to pay so I said thank you to the jeweler and walked away, headed back to the hotel, my souvenir shopping complete without any jade to my name.

I’d seen all the sights I was interested in and didn’t want to spend any more time in the heat and humidity.  My route took me past the Traders Hotel, one of the 5 star hotels in the city and I went inside to look for the bar to enjoy a tall gin and tonic.  The hotel was hosting some international conference, there were men and women from all over the world with their little name tags and dressed for formal meetings.  In my safari shorts, t-shirt, travel vest and Tilley hat, I felt a little out of place and didn’t go up to the second floor to the bar but went outside to resume my journey to my hotel. I felt out of place, but I seriously doubt anyone in the hotel cared how I was dressed.

Around the corner from Traders Hotel was the Malaysia Airlines office, I was flying with them out of Yangon the next day and I wanted to make sure I had an aisle seat, so I went in.  There was only one person in the office, a nice young lady behind the desk and no other customers.  I didn’t have my ticket information with me but she just took my name, checked the flight schedule and verified I was assigned aisle seats on both legs of the flight to Manila.  It was nice to know that was taken care of, and I enjoyed sitting in the air conditioning for a short while.

From there it was straight back to my hotel.  Getting there I felt a bit hungry. Hot and tired of walking, I stopped into the small café across the drive way from the hotel.  I’d passed it many times and never saw anyone inside eating, the young man and woman working there seemed excited to have a customer.  I ordered a milkshake and club sandwich; after two weeks of curries I wanted a change.  They were a little slow in serving, and I think the young man had to check the recipe book on how to make a milkshake, but it tasted very good.  Air conditioning, cold sandwich and milkshake made for a very, very nice lunch.

After eating and back at my room, I spent my time relaxing, repacking and staying cool. My group planned a last night out for dinner so at 7 PM we met in the lobby and took taxis to the “50 Street” restaurant.  Famous in Yangon for Pizza, Pasta and Steaks, I was tempted to order a Porter House Steak but my frugal nature overcame the hunger and I opted for the cheaper pasta.  But the good news was they served gin and tonics; I ordered two tall doubles before happy hour ended.

As the last dinner together, everyone was talking, telling stories of the tour and enjoying ourselves.  It was a great tour group, total strangers two weeks earlier; we were now friends who shared a magnificent adventure.  I think every one of us wished the tour was continuing, at least for a little longer.  But that wasn’t to be, so we passed the envelope around for Con’s tip and everyone applauded when it was given to him.

After dinner we retreated to the bar for a couple rounds; I had a tall beer then a bottle of hard cider.  That night I regretted it, I don’t think the Gin, Beer and Cider mixed well, but that was later.  We talked about our journey through Myanmar and what each of us was doing next.  Some were going straight home and others were to stay in Yangon a little longer or fly off to new adventures in Thailand, Singapore, Nepal, and myself to the Philippines.

It was getting late and some of us went back to the hotel while others stayed for a couple more drinks, I went to the hotel.  I’d packed everything during the afternoon so tried to go straight to bed but my stomach was a little disturbed most of the night.

The last morning in Yangon, I was ready for Breakfast about 06:30, taking my bags to the lobby on my way to the dining room.  Most of the others in my group came and we sat and chatted until it was time for each of us to head to the airport.  While waiting, Stephanie, the young lady from the Netherlands but living in London, gave me a small bag of school supplies to take with me to the Philippines.  She brought them to give to a school in Myanmar but the opportunity didn’t present itself.  I’d told her about the school in the Philippines which I help sponsor so she asked me to give them the supplies; I agreed and they fit neatly into the bottom of my backpack.

About 9 o’clock I took a taxi to the airport and after a short wait, boarded my Malaysia Airlines flight and continued on my way to the Philippines with a short layover in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.  With that my adventure in Myanmar came to an end.  The people of Myanmar were wonderfully friendly and its one of the safest places on earth for tourists.  The government and social changes taking place mean it’s rapidly becoming a prime tourist destination and prices are rising.  It’s more expensive to travel there than some other countries in Southeast Asia, but still a good place to visit, I highly recommend everyone travel there and Discover Myanmar for themselves.

Thank you all for reading my stories, I will let you know when I take my next adventure, so until then, Farewell.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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Discovering Myanmar – 16 – Touring Inle Lake Continued

Posted on December 15, 2012 by

The story of my full day exploring Inle Lake Continues

Hello Everyone,

Lunch time on Inle Lake; we pulled up to a restaurant on stilts like every other building in the village. From the dock, we climbed a flight of stairs to the dining room on the 2nd floor. With no other diners, we had our choice of tables; we sat on the covered balcony overlooking the canal and the boats coming and going.

Sitting at three tables, two servers took the orders one table at a time as we continued with our conversations, discussing all we had seen that morning. After not too long a wait, the first dishes were served, but instead of serving the table that ordered first and so on, as the dishes came out the waiters went from table to table asking who ordered it. By this time other diners were seated in the restaurant and some of them were getting their food while our orders were coming out one at a time. It didn’t take near as long as the dinner in Kalaw, but the last dish wasn’t served until everyone else had finished eating. This restaurant catered only to the tourists visiting the lake but had no system for serving groups larger than 4 people.

After lunch it was back in the boats and we were off to the next destination, Shwe Inn Dain Pagoda. The pagoda complex was upstream on a river feeding into Inle Lake. The village where we ate lunch was at the mouth of that river so we were soon heading upstream against the current.

The river passed through farm land, but from the boats, low in the water, I couldn’t look above the bank to see what crops they raised. I did get very good looks at two birds, good enough that I identified them later from my Birds of Southeast Asia field guide.

The river was no more than 40 feet wide in most places, but deep enough for the shallow draft boats. With the propeller on a short shaft with universal joint, the driver was able to easily steer around the bends in the river and oncoming craft by moving the shaft side to side, and kept the prop close to the surface not to hit bottom.

A few boats came down stream, but not many. When we got to the landing where we disembarked, there were quite a few boats loading, unloading and waiting for their passengers to return from the pagoda, in fact we disembark at a little dock, just downstream of the main landing which was very busy. The dock we used was a little wobbly, but we all made it ashore safe and sound.

From the boat landing, it was a long walk to the pagoda, maybe a kilometer or more. Along the way we crossed a bridge over a small stream that flowed into the river. Below the bridge a sandbar created an island in the steam where the local children swam and played in the shallow water.

The original pagoda was built in the 3rd century BC and the current pagoda is built over it. The complex covers the side of a large hill with pagoda at the top and stupas cascading down the eastern side of the hill towards the river and on both sides of a 2000 foot long covered stairway.

The Pagoda was very active from the 14th to 18th century when most of the stupas were built but now are mostly in ruins. A survey in 1999 identified over 1000 stupas and other structures. Made of brick then plastered, sculpted and painted, they range in size from maybe 10 feet tall to twice that height and some as large as a small house. Some of the remaining plaster is sculpted into beautiful figures of dancers, mythical birds, elephants, creatures of legend, etc.

The government department of antiquities is restoring some stupas and some are restored by donations from Buddhist devotees around the world. As in Bagan, some of the restoration is controversial since the restored stupas aren’t always in the same style as the original.

The covered stairway is 12 feet wide with plenty of room for vendors to set up shop and still allow tourist to pass. I found some carved wooden refrigerator magnets and haggled for those, it I got them for about $2.00 each.

After we all reached the top, we headed down a trail that cut along the edges of the field of stupas. The entire time we were on the hill, loudspeakers filled the air with the chanting of a Buddhist monk. Of course I didn’t understand a word, but assumed it was a recording since there was never a break in the chanting. That was not the case; Buddhist monks were chanting the Buddhist scriptures for 24 hours straight in honor of the holiday.

Our path around the stupas took us on a route that led to the small stream I mentioned earlier and we followed it to the bridge then turned back the way we had originally come. The road took us to the river landing where our boats waited just as it started pouring; the sky had been threatening all morning but this was the first rain. Thankfully the boats provided blankets, raincoats and umbrellas. I quickly donned the raincoat but didn’t think I needed the umbrella. That didn’t last long, once we started speeding down the river, the rain cut into my cheeks and I couldn’t see a thing. Crouched down behind the open umbrella wasn’t so bad. I don’t know how the driver managed to see while steering into the rain, but we made it back to the lake with no problems.

As we headed back towards the canal and town the rain came and went sporadically. We crossed over to the east side of the lake to visit the floating gardens Inle Lake is famous for. The floating gardens are just that, floating mounds of vegetation with tomatoes, fruits, etc. growing on them. The vegetation is arranged in long rows, separated by just enough water for a boat to pass between them. The rows are anchored by long poles shoved through the vegetation to the muddy lake bottom.

As we got to the floating gardens, it began to rain again, even harder than before. All of the boats in the area raced to the large pagoda built on pilings in the middle of the gardens. We had to wait for an opening to get to the dock, but eventually pulled alongside and could go into the pagoda to dry off, of course taking off our shoes before entering. The pagoda was actually pretty impressive. Completely made of wood, it displayed great craftsmanship and was large enough for all the people from the boats to stay inside with room to spare.

After about an hour, we decided the rain had let up enough for us to head back to town. It was getting late in the afternoon and we needed to be back at the dock before dark. We raced back down canals running through the floating gardens and through another village, finally reaching the main canal. Then it was just a matter of heading to the docks. There I gave my tip money for the driver to Sue who gave it to him along with her and Collin’s tip. I don’t know what they gave him, but I tipped 2000 Kyat or about $2.50, which is more than I would have given a bus driver for the day; he navigated the lake and river skillfully and there were only three of us in his boat. Knowing what to tip is always a problem so I hope that was a proper amount. With all the rain, I wasn’t thinking of taking pictures so I am sorry to say I don’t have a single photograph of the floating gardens or our Pagoda refuge.

Walking back to the hotel, we got to see the town in the daylight and watch the street dogs fight over scraps of food. At the hotel, we went to our rooms and cleaned up then most of us met in the lobby to go to dinner. About a block down the street was the Golden Kite Restaurant. It grabbed my attention when we drove down the street the first day. In large letters the signboard read: “Wood Fired Pizza” and “Hand Made Pasta”. Since this was the last night before heading back to Yangon, we went there to have something other than curry for once.

The restaurant was pretty large, and obviously the prime hangout for the backpacker crowd as opposed to the expensive restaurant we ate at the night before which catered to a more stylish clientele. When the waiters finished rushing around, pushing enough small tables together so we could sit together, the owner came over and welcomed us. He beamed as he described how a lady from Italy came and taught him to make pasta and pizza, had sent him a pasta machine and supplied him with fresh Basil. He then invited everyone into his kitchen to show it off. I declined but several did take the tour and were duly impressed.

I ordered pizza and it was pretty good with a good, thin, crisp crust. While we ate, everyone from our group who hadn’t joined us at the hotel showed up; I think they had either wanted to eat earlier or later than the rest of us but in the end we all ended up eating together after all. And I never heard one complaint about not having curry for dinner.

After dinner most of the group headed to the beer station for a couple of toasts but I turned back to the hotel. I wanted to be repacked and ready to go since we had to leave the hotel in the morning. On the way to my room I stopped at a small shop for a bottle of water, they sold the hand rolled cigarettes I’d seen earlier, for 50 Kyat each; quite a mark up since the girl earned 1.2 Kyat for rolling it.

Back at my room, I sat on my porch for a little while just relaxing then repacked my bags and made ready to check out the next day and head to Yangon, but that is a story for next time.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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Discovering Myanmar – 15 – Touring Inle Lake

Posted on December 14, 2012 by

Hello Friends,

The day started early; Con wanted us on the street at 05:00 for the walk to the canal and our boats.  Before leaving the hotel, we were handed small Styrofoam boxes, our breakfasts; after the bread, butter and jam in Yangon, we weren’t expecting much.  It was a nice surprise to find hard boiled eggs and an orange in each box.

We gathered at the front gate of the hotel and started down the street just after 5 o’clock.  We weren’t the only ones out that early; anyone wanting to go out on the lake had to start early.  It was nearly 2 kilometers from the hotel, but we were at the canal before 06:00 and our local guide sorted the 15 of us plus herself and Con into 5 boats.  Each boat was maybe 30 inches wide and 20+ feet long, driven by the same small diesel engines used in the homemade trucks.  Instead of the long tail propeller shaft connected directly to the engine like they use in Thailand on similar boats, these had a universal joint and short shaft making them more maneuverable than their Thai cousins.

I was in the boat with Collin and Sue, one of the couples from England. The boats were well equipped; each seat had a life preserver, umbrella, bottled water and raincoat.  Not knowing the stability of the boat or ability of the driver, I put the life vest on as we headed down the canal towards Inle Lake.

Two reasons for the early start: First, during the Full Moon Day holiday a special festival takes place on Inle Lake and we hoped to experience it. Second we had many places to visit in one day and the festival was in addition to those.

The lake is huge, covering some 44 square miles, and surrounded with villages built on wooden stilts; meaning all buildings including temples are atop pilings driven into the shallow lake; during the dry season it averages about 7 feet deep but can raise 1 to 2 meters during the rainy season.

During the festival, sacred images are removed from a famous pagoda on the lake and placed on a golden barge made in the image of a giant sacred mythical bird. The barge is towed from village to village around the lake, visiting a new village each day for about 2 weeks.   The day we were on the lake, the golden barge was going between villages on the far side of the lake.

The procession was to begin at 8 AM so the boats all sped down the canal as soon as they were loaded.  It was like a game for the drivers, especially those from the same agency as they raced each other.  The morning light revealed low clouds that threatened rain but there was no wind and the lake very smooth.  As we sped along, other boats were also on the lake.  Fishermen with their large cone shaped weirs about 2 meters long and 4 feet in diameter at the large end.  Other boats were loaded almost to sinking by men harvesting weeds from the lake, a constant process to keep channels from being clogged by the fast growing plants.  Some boats sped in the opposite direction towards the canal we came from.  These carried both locals and tourists; the locals taking goods to market and the tourists heading to the airport from the high-end overwater hotels in some of the villages.

Even starting before 6 AM, we were far from the first boats in the village’s main channel. With the boats choking the channel in the overwater village, we were about 200 yards from the procession when it came into sight.  It left the temple in this village to travel to the next village for the night.  Preceding it were long narrow boats with oarsmen standing on both sides, all dressed in colorful costumes and shaded by tall parasols; each boat representing a different temple and sporting a different color.  The men and boys rowed standing up in what is called leg rowing; instead of pulling with their arms, they manipulated and pushed the oar using their legs and feet.

The procession went down a side channel and out of our sight behind stilted houses; our driver started up the engine, and along with most of the other boats raced across the village to another vantage point to watch the barge.  This time we went under some of the houses and across Water Lily paddies. At one point the boat carrying 4 young ladies from my group ran aground on the low dyke surrounding one of the paddies.

After about an hour watching the procession in all its splendor; the long boats with colorful crews and the golden barge, we headed off for a full morning of sightseeing. All of the villages around the lake have cottage industries, some employing the entire village like a co-op.  The first stop was at a weaving workshop. Large warehouse size buildings contained looms and spinning wheels.  Because of the festival the looms were quiet and only a few people around.  One was a man stripping fibers from Water Lily stems.  An agonizingly slow process where he cut the end of a stem, then pull it apart, drawing out a single fiber.  He continued cutting about 2 inches off the stem to get the one fiber until the stem was too short to be usable.  As the fibers were pulled out, each was rolled onto the end of the previous fiber, the sticky fibers bonded to make a long thread to be woven on the loom.  I can’t even imagine how many hours of work it took to make the long threads for just one piece of cloth.  A lady was spinning silk threads onto spindles for the looms while kneeling on the floor; everything except working the looms seemed to be done while kneeling.

Before leaving the weaving village, we walked to the small restaurant to use their restrooms.  While waiting I asked Con if we had time for a quick cup of coffee and he reluctantly said we did.  I quickly ordered coffee and within a few minutes nearly everyone in the group sat down and did the same.  With the early start and meager breakfast eaten in the boats, we all needed the coffee break.

Finally back in the boats, we headed along the edge of the lake to the next village.  There we stopped at a workshop where young women knelt on the floor hand rolling cigarettes.  They took small leaves cupped in one hand, poured a measured amount of tobacco on the leaf then rolled it tightly around a plant stem at one end and used a dab of paste to hold it together. They measured it against a small stick and cut it to length; the plant stem in the one end acted as a filter. Watching them, it was fascinating how fast they worked.  We asked how many a worker could roll in one day and what they earned.  They were paid per cigarette; a skilled worker could roll 1000 cigarettes per day and earn 1200 Kyat, which is $1.50.  The cigarettes were bundled and sold to a tobacco company which specified the size and distributed them.

As we traveled between stops, the boat drivers raced each other, trying to dock first then maneuver their boats around while we toured so their boat could be the first to load going to the next stop.

Next on the itinerary was a gold smith shop, using a small forge to melt down the gold and silver for jewelry and a small workshop to bend, pound and form the individual pieces.  I don’t think we bought much in the gift shop, at least nothing expensive although I did look at a couple Jade stones; still just as confused as before. From there we visited a Blacksmith shop, the over water building had a forge in the center where they heated and shaped iron and brass into various small tools and ornaments.  While we watched, they were forging something out of iron; one man operated a manual bellows to fire the forge, heating the iron bar white hot.  The senior blacksmith removed the glowing iron from the coals with tongs and held it to the anvil.  Three apprentices or junior smiths pounded the iron bar with sledge hammers; working in rotation, one after another.  When they took a break a man from another workshop arrived with a broken tool.  The blacksmith quickly took a small iron bar, heated it in the forge and expertly hammered it into the proper shape, cutting it to length using a cold chisel.  The new pin fit the tool and the other man left satisfied.  Some in the group did buy a few odds and ends; the handmade shears, knives, chisels, etc. were both unique and useful.

The last stop of the morning was a workshop which I don’t really remember except for the three ladies who worked looms at one end of the building.  Two younger ones sat outside on the porch resting and an older woman sat at her loom inside, weaving cloth with beautiful vivid colors.   The memorable part is that the three were from a remote ethnic group known as Padaung or Kayan; also called long neck women.  At a young age, even pre-teen, brass coils are placed on the women’s necks.  The actual origin of the tradition isn’t really known, several theories try to explain it but the women just say it’s the custom.  As they grow older, longer coils are placed on their necks until they are very long.  I was surprised to learn that the coils don’t stretch the vertebrae but instead force the collar bone down and compresses the chest. And contrary to what I originally heard, the coils can be removed without danger to the women.  The women came to Inle Lake and the workshops to earn money not available in their villages and the workshops hire them because they draw tourists.  I felt just taking their pictures was exploiting them but they didn’t charge for photographs and did weave beautiful cloth.  The lady working the loom was 70 years old, I asked permission to take her picture and she nodded and smiled in agreement; after taking the photograph I purchased a beautiful shoulder bag made of cloth she had woven.

The next stop was for lunch, thank goodness because we were hungry.  But that and the afternoon’s explorations will wait until my next letter.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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Discovering Myanmar – 14 – On the Road to Inle Lake

Posted on December 13, 2012 by

Hello My Friends,

With a restful sleep, I was ready to go when everyone congregated at the bus with our luggage and were on the road on time, my stomach problems a thing of the past. It wasn’t far to Inle Lake, but we made it a long trip by taking a detour to visit the Pindaya Caves. We drove through several small villages on the paved two lane road, but it wasn’t fast going since the road needed maintenance.

After about 2 hours of driving, we came to a wide valley. The road down one side of the valley floor and on the opposite hillside, maybe two miles away, we could see the pagodas and covered walkways of the Pindaya Caves Shrine. After a photo opportunity from the highway, we drove across the valley and up the hill to the parking lot of the shrine. The road seemed a fairly recent addition to the complex, before it was built all visitors walked up the stairways from the valley floor, now it is just a short walk from the parking area to the entrance.

As we climbed the last stairs to the shrine, we came to large room where people sat on the floor drinking tea; it was a rest area for those needing to sit down to rest or just waiting for others. Past the ticket booth where Con paid our entrance fees, most of us stopped to buy the camera pass allowing us to take pictures inside the shrine.

The Pindaya Caves are large caverns with stalactites, stalagmites, dripping water and slippery paths. Unlike other caverns I’ve visited, this one was taken over as a religious shrine centuries ago. Every nook and cranny held one or more statues of Buddha. Small side caves, so low you had to enter on hands and knees, held more statues. Stupas stood up to 15 feet tall in the cavern where there was room, in some cases the path squeezed between the stupa and side wall with little clearance, at least for those of us needing a wide berth.

In places where the floor was slippery from the dripping water, rubber mats on the floor help the footing. I don’t know how many statues filled the cave but there must have been hundreds. Many had small plaques below the statue, mostly in the local script, but some in English. They told the names of people who donated the statues to be placed in the cavern; they were from all over the world.

As we were leaving and waiting in the little tea room, young women crowded around Emma, the young lady in my group from Denmark. Her long and very blond hair fascinated the locals and they repeatedly asked to have pictures taken with her. She was amused and very polite about the requests, always agreeing to pose with them and enjoying it. As we walked back down the stairway to the parking area, she was asked one or two more times that I noticed, maybe more; and this wasn’t the first time it happened.

The shrine provided its own photo opportunities to satisfy the curious. Beautifully adorned horses, for a price you could sit in the saddle and have your picture taken. Also, many posed with the large, cartoonish, statues representing a legendary Prince and the giant evil spider he slew.

The drive down the mountain didn’t take long and very shortly we were at our next stop. At the base of the hill a small workshop made hand laid paper umbrellas. Inside the walled compound were a couple of workshops, one making handmade paper. First a thin screen was put into a paper solution made of plant fibers soaked in water. The fibers clung to the screen as the milk white solution washed through. As it laid in the solution, small colorful leaves were placed on the screen to be included into the paper. Once the fibers completely covered the screen, it was removed and set aside to dry. When dry, the screen was turned over and the paper pulled from the screen; the sheets were about 2 feet square, very pale beige with small red and green leaves scattered across each.

In the main workshop a man worked a foot powered wood lathe. He took small pieces of soft wood and on the lathe shaped the spindles which opened and closed the umbrellas. The spindles were attached to handles then ribs added until a complete umbrella skeleton was ready for paper. The paper was painted or dyed and then laid onto the wooden skeleton. They also used the handmade paper to make paper lanterns and other simple souvenirs; and even wrapped your purchases in it; next to the workshops was a small gift shop.

After that it was time for lunch, we drove into the local village where several restaurants specialized in serving tour buses from the cave shrine. The first one we stopped at had room for the bus to park, but the restaurant itself was full. As we pulled back out on the road it began to rain and rain heavily. A short distance down the road was another restaurant and it had room for us. The dining area was open sided with a high roof and long tables for diners. This place catered to tours, the food was good, served quickly and efficiently. After dinner I used the facilities and found it had clean and pleasant restrooms, the owner knew what the tourists wanted. It rained all during lunch but it was very comfortable in the covered dining area, only after we were on the bus and driving out of town did it stop raining.

After lunch it was a few more hours on the road, but we arrived at our hotel in Nyaungshwe, the major town near Inle Lake, before dark. Our hotel looked more like a collection of bungalows: clean rooms, four in each bungalow each with a private front porch. The rooms were a little run down but clean, I don’t think they’d used my room for some time, neither the fan or the TV worked, they ended up replacing both and I was very comfortable.

At 7 o’clock most of us met at the lobby to walk to dinner. It was Stephen’s birthday so we went to what looked like the best restaurant in town, the Viewpoint Restaurant, next to the main canal. It was a fancy looking place and we went to the upstairs dining room. While we waited for the waiters to put several tables together, we scanned the menu. We almost walked out; the prices seemed more like you would see in Seattle than a small town in Myanmar. Happily we found out that menu was for set dinners and not ala carte, we were given the real menu and the prices were more reasonable and we all stayed. Halleluiah, I was able to order a proper Gin and Tonic, with local Gin and Tonic water from Singapore.

I don’t really understand the holiday, but the Full Moon Day celebration lasts 3 days. As part of that celebration, I think, that night was the festival of lights. Nearly every doorway, storefront and window displayed little lights. Some were just a simple oil lamp of a small dish about 2 inches in diameter with oil and a wick. Other lights were more elaborate and/or electric.

After another good dinner and well wishes to Stephen, we headed back to the hotel. Most of the group detoured to a Beer Station for a few more toast to Stephen, however I begged off. I was over my stomach problems, but didn’t want to push my luck. When I got back to the hotel, the manager made sure I knew my room was ready, both TV and fan working. Ten minutes after I was in my room, a young man knocked on my door to make sure everything was still OK. I had no more problems during our stay there.

Before turning in for the night, I sorted out my luggage, we would be on Inle Lake all the next day, so wanted to make sure I had everything in my day pack I needed. Inle Lake and the other adventures will have to wait until my next letter.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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Discovering Myanmar -13 – On the Road to Kalaw

Posted on December 11, 2012 by

Discovering Myanmar -13 – On the Road to Kalaw

Hello Everyone,

Our last morning in Bagan was an easy start, not too early. Eating little at Breakfast and dreading the long bus ride, I chewed another Pepto Bismo and hoped for the best as I boarded the bus.  We were on the road about 07:00 and Headed to Kalaw, an old British outpost known as a Hill Station.  The British Colonials would retreat to cooler weather in the mountains during the hottest months, these mountain retreats were the Hill Stations.

While still crossing the flat plains that surround Bagan, we stopped at a thatched roof workshop alongside the highway; they made palm sugar candy.  On most dining tables I’d seen little jars of small, brownish colored balls made of palm sugar.   The locals eat them as desert or a snack with afternoon tea.  They are made of unrefined palm sugar at small shops around Bagan.

The palms are tapped for their sap high in the crown; a worker climbs a ladder up the side of the palm with 3 or 4 small pots hanging from his belt.  At the top he takes the pots that already collecting sap and replaces them with those he brought up. He also cuts the long green fruit of the palm, dropping those to the ground and climbs down with the pots tied to his belt.

The fruit goes into an ancient wooden press worked by a yoked Ox.  The ox walked in a circle, yoked to a pole that pulled a vertical pole around a wooden bowl, grinding the fruit against the sides of the bowl, the juice ran down a tube from the bottom of the bowl to another pot, it’s then added to the sap to boil down.  The sap and juice was boiled in a large wok over a wood fire until only the sugar remained, then it’s rolled into little balls about the size of marble and put in bags.  We were shown all of the processes and given a chance to buy a few bags, I declined the opportunity. It was all interesting but I liked most seeing the lady squatted down beside the fire smoking a cigar.

The next stop on our way was Mount Popa, a temple complex built atop a volcanic plug with impossibly steep walls; it is accessed by climbing a stairway of 777 steps barefooted.  The towering hill is within a large national park, so the road approaching it passes through lush jungle. As we approached we could see the temple complex sitting atop the mountain and it seemed almost like a fairy tale castle in the sky.  When the road reached the base of the hill the jungle gave over to buildings, crowds, cars and trucks.  The narrow road wrapped around the base of the hill and buildings were built up to the edge of it. The mountain side of the road seemed to be all religious buildings and the roadside away from the mountain crowded with restaurants, souvenir stands, fruit vendors, etc. There were lots of people coming and going and a few Macaque monkeys waiting patiently for handouts or opportunities to grab anything unattended.  Throngs of people come to this shrine and crowd the road , there is little room for the cars, buses and trucks to park.

I still felt a little queasy so didn’t try climbing the stairway; instead I walked to a small café nearby and waited for the rest of my group to return; sitting in the shade drinking cold water. For about an hour I sat and watched the many pilgrims and tourists pass by, some arriving to start the climb and others finished and ready to leave.  An ancient blue Willies Jeep pickup truck stopped on the road across from where I sat.  The bed of the truck had benches along the sides and was covered, it was filled to bursting inside and on top with people and their baggage; which was considerable.  I couldn’t count how many people climbed out or off of it, others seemed to be trying to climb on at the same time.

Shortly after that my group arrived back down and I joined them.  Our bus had found a somewhat wide spot to park a short ways down the road leading out of town. Staying clear of trucks and buses trying to maneuver into and out of tight parking spots; we were soon on the road to Kalaw again.  Our group leader Con talked me into taking re-hydration powder to mix with my water, I didn’t think it was necessary but drank it anyway; it couldn’t hurt and maybe would help.

The rest of the drive to Kalaw was pretty uneventful.  We stopped at a little village next to a small river in a narrow canyon.  The little shop next to the bridge over the river got our business and several in the group used the restrooms.  What I said earlier about smart entrepreneurs putting in clean restrooms to attract more buses fit this place.  Just getting to the toilets in the back meant braving a muddy obstacle course to unpleasant facilities.  I doubt if buses regularly stop there unless they have to.

We spent a while drinking sodas and watching little kids playing in the river below the bridge.  Then it was back on the bus and on our way.  About 5 PM we arrived in Kalaw and our hotel.  We got there just as the public market down the street closed so there wasn’t much to see in town, I just rested in my room until it was time to meet for dinner.

At 7 o’clock we met in the lobby and walked to a small restaurant around the corner.  It was known as a favorite stop for trekkers and backpackers passing through Kalaw and well recommended.

The dining room was nearly empty when we arrived and took about half the seats in the room.  The simple menu was passed around and all ordered. Shortly a few couples entered for dinner.  About twenty minutes after ordering the first meal arrived, about 5 minutes later the next dish came out of the kitchen, 5 more minutes for the next dish. Since some had ordered appetizers as well as a main course, there were lots of dishes to be served and each was cooked one at a time. I was one of the last to be served and 2 hours after ordering, Gunther was still waiting.  He was getting a very disgruntled, especially since some of the couples who entered after us were served before him.  He was on his way to tell the kitchen to just forget it, out came his dinner.  We’d been at small restaurants before that were slow but nothing like this.  Since the restaurant catered mostly to Trekkers and Backpackers, they were not used to tour groups and having to serve more than 2 or 3 people at a time.  I suspect that will change now that more and more people are traveling to Myanmar.

When we were all finished with dinner it was a short walk back to the hotel, we wouldn’t have to rush the next morning so no early wake up needed. I was feeling back to normal and looking forward to a good night’s sleep. We would be on our way to Inle Lake the next day and leave about 8 o’clock, which is my next tale.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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Discovering Myanmar – 12 – A Good Day and Bad Night in Bagan

Posted on December 10, 2012 by

Greetings Friends,

The second full day in Bagan was free with no scheduled events or sightseeing. After all the temples visited the day before, I felt satisfied I’d seen enough of those. The morning was slow, after breakfast just some bird watching but didn’t see anything new and I went out to the pool for a short stint of lounging in the sun.

It was October 28th, the Full Moon Day holiday, all full moons are celebrated in Myanmar, but this one was especially important. It represented Buddha’s return to earth to minister to men after ministering to the Gods in heaven. Evidently he split his time, six months in heaven then six months on earth. At least that is how it was explained to me, but I am far from an expert on Buddhism.

Since this was a special Full Moon Day, a parade was planned for Bagan to begin about noon. It was just a short walk to the main street and then another short walk along it to a corner that seemed a likely viewing spot. Shortly after I got there, several others from my group showed up, some on foot and some on rented bicycles. We took over a table close to the street in a little open air bar selling sold cold beer, soda, water, etc. We knew it was getting close to starting time when locals began lining up along the street and finding shady spots for the babies; all eager for the celebration to begin.

The first indication of the parade was the loud music, a large truck with massive speakers stacked on the bed was led down Main Street by boys dancing, carrying a huge papier-mâché tiger and small boys in traditional costume sitting atop it. The Main Street wasn’t closed for the parade; cars, buses and trucks still drove through town, but slowly to avoid the celebrants who were often in traditional costume, dancing to the blaring modern music. Trucks of all sizes, many carrying loud speakers came through at varying intervals along with more dancing tigers and other fierce papier-mâché creatures, each trying to outdo the others in fierceness and the boy’s hectic dancing. The girls in the parade were much more poised. Instead of dancing crazily and showing off, they politely paraded in single file wearing colorful traditional dresses and the little children did the same; they all carried sticks with paper money attached, I don’t know if the money was gifts for them or gifts they were giving to Buddha, but I suspect the latter. The country is very religious and all the temples, shrines, etc are well supported.

Trucks of all sizes and description were both on the street and in the parade. Besides those trucks of recognizable manufacture such as Toyotas, Dodges and Chinese, there were also vehicles of unknown origin. I think they were built from the ground up with parts of other trucks and others seemed to be almost recognizable except the front fenders and hood were gone. These trucks all had one thing in common, small diesel engines bolted to the frames. The closest comparison I know is to Jeepneys in the Philippines, locally made in small workshops from junk yard parts and imported engines. The most evident difference being that Jeepneys are iconic for their wonderful bodywork resembling World War II jeeps and the Myanmar trucks have no body work except to enclose a basic cab and sides to the truck bed.

The diesel engines were on sale in shops along the road and I believe come out of China. They are of different sizes and installed on nearly everything. I don’t remember seeing them in Yangon or in the city of Mandalay, but outside the cities they dominate the roads. I even saw the small engines on what I can only describe as wood and steel carts, almost like large self propelled wheel barrows.

When the parade ended, we paid for the few beers, sodas and water and headed out on our own. Some hung around downtown a little longer to explore more of the town; Emma and Daniela rode off on their rented bicycles and I walked back to the hotel. The streets cleared off quickly and except for a young man who followed me trying to talk me into visiting his family’s lacquer ware shop; pretty uneventful.

Later that afternoon I began to feel the early signs of “Travelers Distress”. I’m always careful on my trips, but even then the bug can get you. I don’t know what I ate that disagreed with me, I didn’t eat anything at the little bar, no street food, no Bazaar food moments and no one else in the group seemed to be affected. So it could have been as simple as a dirty glass or spoon that carried the problem. The afternoon and evening weren’t too bad, but as the night wore on it got worse. I didn’t venture from my room and up most of the night in the bath room. I always carry Pepto-Bismo tablets in my first-aid kit and chewed a couple of those plus I drank lots of bottled water. That didn’t allow much time to sleep so it was a long night, but surprisingly enough I survived. By the next morning the worst of it was over, just in time for our bus ride to the next destination, but that is a story for my next letter.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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Discovering Myanmar – 11 – Exploring Bagan’s Temples Continued

Posted on December 7, 2012 by

My first full day in Bagan continues:

Hello Again Everyone,

After lunch we boarded our bus and as we pulled away I noticed an antique car parked under a tree across the street. As we drove by I was able to get a quick look and am still trying to figure out what make of car it was; with wooden spoke wheels I suspect it’s a British contemporary of the Ford Model T. A tarp covered the hood and top of the radiator so the only clue to its identity was a round brass medallion on the radiator with what appeared to be a painted red chicken.

We continued our Temple Tour with Sulemani Pahto. It was originally a monastery with over 1000 cells for the monks, built in 1181. A high wall surrounds a compound with lush vegetation surrounding the Pagoda and plenty of vendors ready to sell you all the souvenirs you could ever want including puppets which I didn’t remember seeing at the other stops. The interior walkways were plastered and decorated with ancient frescos from different periods over several centuries; some were remarkably clear and others faded and almost unrecognizable. Some areas of the exterior retained remnants of the original carved stucco molding that once graced the entire pagoda but now only provide glimpses of its past grandeur; with 5 entrances the temple was called the “Crowning Jewel”.

The last temple of the day was the massive, grand and still very active Ananda Pahto, built between 1090 and 1105. Its golden spire is 170 feet high with 30+ tall standing Buddhas facing the four directions; the North and South statues are original to the building and the other two Buddhas are from the 17th century, replacing two destroy by fire. The Buddhas are carved from Teak then gilded in gold. The walls have alcoves from floor to ceiling containing small images of Buddha and other statues adorn the building. Most of the vendors line the main corridor leading from the parking lot to the standing Buddhas, again I was reminded of Oriental Bazaars like those in Istanbul or Cairo. By wandering along the inner passages or to the outside courtyards I found myself alone and away from the crowds, several of the others in my group either had the same aversion to crowds that I have, or followed the same corridors in their wandering because we found ourselves in the same courtyard area. There we appreciated the workmanship evidenced down to the smallest detail; it also provided unobstructed views of the great architecture. After about an hour we headed back to the parking lot and our bus. There I took my time to people watch; I enjoyed watching the little kids, all with tree bark paste on their cheeks and forehead and playing.

We made a Non Temple stop at a workshop making lacquerware and paper umbrellas. The craftsmanship of all the items was magnificent and after watching all the steps in making the beautiful pieces, we found our way to the sales room, some in my group bought umbrellas or other goods, I just found a comfortable bench in the shade and thanked them for the free tea and cookies provided. One other point of interest, as an added inducement for tourists to visit that shop, they maintained the best public restrooms I saw Bagan; in many of the countries I’ve traveled thru, providing clean and pleasant restrooms ensures every tour bus passing by stops there and passengers always buy at least some snacks and souvenirs. I am always amazed that so few entrepreneurs figure that out.

One stop during the day, I forgot exactly when we got there, was at a money changer. Bagan doesn’t have any banks and the exchange rate offered by the hotel was horrendous, less than 800 Kyat to the dollar. The shop we stopped at seemed more like a cross between an antique store and a souvenir shop. When told we were there to exchange our US Dollars, the proprietor came out with a box and bundles of cash. Very quickly our dollars were examined then a lady calculated the how much in Kyat we would get and count it out, it took less than half the time exchanging at a bank would take, no forms to fill out and the rate was 835 Kyat to the dollar. I was very satisfied.

I was completely “templed out” after all the different Temples, Pagodas and Shrines, but they were all grand structures and different from each other. It was nearing the end of the day so we headed to the secret location Con had promised where we would watch the sunset without mass crowds. Going down one of the narrow side roads that criss-cross the plain between temples, we pulled over at a wide spot in the road and stopped. There wasn’t a temple within stone throwing distance so I couldn’t see anyplace to get a good view of the sunset. Walking along a cow path through trees and pasture for about 50 yards we came to a long narrow hill about 40 feet high. We scrambled up the gentle slope and it was quickly evident that this was not a natural hill, but rather an ancient dump. The hill was made of broken tile shards and brick rubble; an ancient factory making tiles, bricks, etc. dumped their refuse there to create the mound. It must have been in operation for a long time to have enough waste to build that pile, still 40 feet high and maybe 100 yards long after who knows how many centuries of erosion.

We trekked to the end of the hill and looked out over the trees to the distant mountains. About a half mile south of us was the Shwesandaw Pagoda we had started at that morning. On the road leading to the temple, cars and busses closely followed one another to the temple, it must have been a mad house with so many people trying to enter the temple and climb the narrow stairways at the same time. From our location we could see the top of the temple fill up with tourists. The cars and busses continued to arrive even after sunset, not only did late arrivals miss seeing the sun go down, but if they tried to climb to the top to look over the countryside in the dusk, the crowd of people coming down the narrow stairs and corridors would have made that impossible.

We didn’t have our little hill all to ourselves, but it was by no means crowded. There were maybe 20 people on the hill as the sun settled down to the horizon. We each found the spot we wanted to watch from, hoping to get that perfect picture of the sun going down behind a temple or just the right angle to capture the last rays of sunlight illuminating the clouds over the mountains. Con had not disappointed, this was so much better than being among the crowd atop the temple, it wasn’t even comparable.

After the sun settled behind the hills and the last rays had streaked across the sky it was time to walk back down the hill and to our bus. The last event of the day was to return to our hotel for the evening and settle in for the night. We had a long day of visiting temples behind us and I for one was looking forward to sitting down for a cold drink even if the outdoor bar didn’t serve Gin and Tonic. Happily for me, we only climbed to the top of one temple, Shwesandaw Pagoda the first thing in the morning and that was enough; God I hate stone steps and that goes for brick too. The next day would be free with nothing scheduled, like the free day in Mandalay we choose our own adventures but that is a story for tomorrow’s letter.

Enjoy the Journey to Ithaca

Scott

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