On the 19th, we (Mike, Nora, Grant, Josh, and I) all arrived in Rangoon/Yangon. The city used to be the capital of Burma/Myanmar, but the government changed it relatively recently for absurd reasons dealing with some bad astrological omen. Anyway, the city is amazing. It’s difficult to describe accurately, but imagine some war-torn, 19th-century European city that has since been abandoned. That sounds negative, I know, but I mean it in the most complimentary way possible. Rangoon/Yangon is like a forgotten gem. There aren’t many tourists there at all, so you feel like you’re getting a certain authenticity that much of Thailand and other destinations lack.
A friend of Nora’s set us up with a friend of hers who lives here, and that’s where the unimaginable friendliness and hospitality began. He met us at the airport, paid for our two taxis to the central part of the city, took us out to tea (which he also paid for), and set us up with a fantastic guest house all within an hour of meeting him for the first time. For the next few days, he took us around to different parts of the city. If he was busy (having his own life), he gave us detailed suggestions. In the few days we spent in Rangoon/Yangon, we visited (among other impressive temples) the Shwedagon Paya, an enormous, golden temple that one can see from all over the city; took the $1 Circle Train around the whole city, which allowed us to see some of the outlying areas, which included an accidental stop at the eerily repressed Insein (see below); went to Inya Lake, a beautiful landscape from where you can see Aung San Suu Kyi’s home (see below); and walked through the night markets in the Chinese and Indian Quarters of town. Here are some photos from the city:
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| The view from the roof of our guesthouse. |
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| Getting a beer. |
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| Shwedagon Pagoda in Rangoon/Yangon. |
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| A Buddhist woman at one of the pagoda's that supposedly houses some of the Buddha's hairs. |
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| Me being awkward in a holy site. |
Our friend’s generosity did not end there—far from it, in fact. Because of the government’s repression, distrust of outsiders, and general political paranoia, there is an unbelievable amount of red tape to cut and bureaucratic hoops to jump through before you can do any inter-city travel in Burma. Some roads are closed off to foreigners, and the rules often change regarding where you can go. Even Lonely Planet, which always offers inexpensive ways to get around, said that traveling over land in Burma/Myanmar is often more trouble than it’s worth. Luckily, our friend, who happens to be a trekking guide, organized everything for us. He dealt with the arrangements to get bus tickets, and (more importantly) he secured the permit required to leave the country overland into Thailand, which would have taken much longer if we had done it ourselves. He arranged for a boat to take us around Inle Lake when we arrived there a week later. He organized our flight to the border town from where we could leave (because you cannot get there by bus as a tourist). It’s hard to explain how much work all of this actually was. In short, we would have been totally lost without him, and we probably would have ended up breaking down and buying a plane ticket back to Bangkok in order to leave, which would have been more expensive and far out of the way. What’s more, he did us all of these favors with a smile. We thanked him profusely, yet he never acted like it was a big deal. In truth, though, I have never experienced such hospitality from ANYONE, let alone someone I have only known for a couple of days. He kept saying things like, “You guys are family now… my brothers and sisters.” And it didn’t feel like empty rhetoric. It felt honest and sincere. We kept in contact with him throughout our travels in the country, and he continued to help us out along the way. It was all quite incredible and, at the risk of sounding sentimental and overblown, heartwarming.
We left Rangoon/Yangon a few days later and headed for Pagan/Bagan. Grant and Josh went back to Bangkok (they were only in Burma/Myanmar on a short visa run), so it was down to just Mike, Nora, and me. Pagan/Bagan is an ancient region littered with old temples (about 4,400 in total). I’ve never seen anything quite like it. It can hold its weight with any of the world-famous sights (Angkor Wat, the Coliseum, Chitzen Itza, etc.), but it lacks the hoards of tourists that crowd and clutter those places. That will all change as soon as the political situation shifts here, and I have no doubt that Pagan/Bagan will then take its rightful place as one of the coolest sightseeing destinations to visit in the world. Lonely Planet describes it this way: “Gather all of Europe’s medieval cathedrals onto Manhattan island and throw in a whole lot more for good measure, and you’ll start to get a sense of the ambition of the temple-filled plains of Bagan.” That’s about right. We spent our first day on rented bicycles cycling around the dusty streets visiting the noteworthy temples of Old Bagan, the heart of the region. The next day, we went to an outlying area, where we saw an Indiana Jones-esque cave temple and a monastery temple near the banks of the lovely Irrawaddy/Ayeyarwady River. On our final day in the town, we went to Mount Popa, a mind-blowing white temple that sits atop a steep, thin mountain. Again, words are failing me, so here are some of the photos I took:
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| Old Bagan. |
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| Same picture, but with me in it. |
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| Monk hanging out in front of his monastery's ancient temple. |
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| Mount Popa. |
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| Suset in Old Bagan. |
After the worst bus ride of my life, we made it to Kalaw, a small town in the hills. It happens to be the hometown of our friend from Rangoon/Yangon, and it’s where most tourists go to start trekking toward Inle Lake. We booked a three-day trek through out guesthouse. Our guide, K.T., seemed a bit cold at first because he had just returned from another trek. However, as soon as we got on the road, he warmed up a great deal, and it ended up being a wonderful experience. For the next three days, we hiked up and down through the hills of Shan State, stopping along the way for tea and meals. K.T. happened to be an amazing cook, and (in true Burmese character) offered us all more than enough food. The first night, we slept in the home of a family from the hills. We ate by candlelight because they have no electricity, and K.T. told us the gripping story of his upbringing and life in Kalaw. The second night, we stayed at a hilltop monastery, which was amazingly peaceful. It is a common stop for trekkers, so we had good conversations with several other travelers. We slept in the main hall of the monastery, so we were all awoken promptly at 5 A.M. when the novice monks (the youngsters) began their morning chants. It’s customary to make a small donation when you leave the monastery (~$1 or less). This we did, and in return we recieved a blessing from the head monk. I know that he blesses plenty of people every week, and all of you know that I do not give much credence to blessings, deities, or other things spiritual. However, the gesture was still touching, and I will continue to wear the thread that he tied around my wrist (for protection) as a reminder of the experience.
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| Shan State, as seen during our trek from Kalaw. |
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| A typical meal prepared by KT, our guide. Eaten at a family's home in the hills. |
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| Novice monks sweeping the grounds of the monastery. |
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| A very tired me after our trek with our porter (left) and KT (right). |
Finally, we made it to Inle Lake, and I’ve never been so sore in all my life. The first day, we simply passed out in our guesthouse, which is run by an extremely hospitable family (again... very friendly people). On the second day, Mike was sick, so Nora and I hired a boat to take us all around the lake. If you have any vision in mind of Burma/Myanmar, there’s a decent chance you’re thinking of Inle Lake. It’s a glassy body of water, flanked on all sides by mountains. In the morning, a mist covers the whole thing as the fisherman go out in their Burmese canoes to use their expertise. We visited many shops, and we saw a whole village that is built on bamboo stilts in the middle of one of the shallow waterways. It was really amazing. Here are some photos:
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| Typical fisherman on Inle Lake. |
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| Another. |
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| Floating Village. |
So, finally, my musings on the political situation here: As I’ve said, Burma/Myanmar is one of the coolest places that I have ever visited. The people are friendly, the landscape is breathtaking, and the sights are world-class. To most people, it would appear pretty paradisiacal. However, there is an unmistakable air of repression, tyranny, and injustice that hangs around the whole country. If you don’t know anything about the situation here, spend a couple of minutes on Google reading about it. Basically, the country is run by a minority military junta that does not take kindly to dissent or democracy (to say the least). Aung San Suu Kyi, the woman whose house is on Inya Lake in Rangoon/Yangon, was under house arrest there for years and years because of her pivotal role in the pro-democracy movement. She only recently finished her sentence. If the government ever held an honest election, she would win in a landslide. Meanwhile, the many ethnic groups who reside in Burma/Myanmar have also suffered at the hands of the military junta, and unspeakable violence is not exactly uncommon there, particularly among political dissidents. That’s also the reason there are two names for every place in Burma/Myanmar. In this entry, the former names (i.e. Burma, Rangoon, etc.) are the original names for the given place, while the latter (i.e. Myanmar, Yangon, etc.) are the politically motivated reassignments implemented by the government. The nation has a terrible human rights record as well, and there are tough economic sanctions placed on Burma/Myanmar by the rest of world, although they are not always followed by such crucial geopolitical players as India and China. In this way, the government sustains itself and manages to evade the eventual revolution and overthrow. Only very recently were tourists encouraged to go there, under the condition that they avoid spending money at government-owned institutions whenever possible. All of this together is why there is not more tourism there, which, in a very twisted sort of way, is what made the place so enchanting during our stay.
For the most part, the military government does a good job of stifling free speech and general liberty. Nobody talks openly about the abuses of the government, but it’s always a giant elephant behind the curtains. However, the underground democracy movement and the reality of the current government do exist, and both manifested themselves to me a few times during our stay. When our friend picked us up at the airport, we were talking in the taxi. Nora asked him how he had met her friend (the friend who had hooked us up with him). They had met through pro-democracy work. Without batting an eye or losing his friendly smile, he simply said, “We can talk about that back at the hotel, but Yangon is…” and faded back into tour guide mode. The only other person in the taxi was the driver, but you can never be too careful because you never know who is in cahoots with the terrible government. The second experience occurred on the Circle Train around Rangoon/Yangon. We got to Insein, the site of the government’s torturous prison, which does not appear on maps. If you even take photos of it, you are facing serious arrest. The train was relatively lively up until we passed the prison, at which point the mood become markedly more sinister and somber. Nobody really spoke. It was all quite eerie. A few minutes after we had passed the actual prison, the man sitting next to me struck up a friendly conversation, which is not uncommon. It went something like this:
“What is your name?”
“Ben.”
“You are graduate?”
“Yes, we all just graduated, so now we travel.”
“Where are you from?”
“United States”
“America?”
“Yes.”
[At this point, he leaned in very close to my ear and started to whisper.]
“Use your liberty to promote ours.”
To this, I could only nod like a fool. Nora told me later that the statement is a quote from the aforementioned Aung San Suu Kyi. It was awfully affecting, particularly considering the types of risks associated with speaking like that to strangers in public places. These types of experiences really brought home the degree to which political repression and a lack of liberty can affect a nation. It really does hang over everything like a huge dark cloud. It’s largely unspoken, so silences, like the one on the Circle Train, seem long, brutal, and spooky.
As with all dark clouds, though, silver linings do exist. First and foremost, it’s promising that the pro-democracy movement exists. By all means, it continues to promote justice and freedom in spite of the relentless attempts by the government to stifle them.
The second silver lining was closer to my personal experiences in Burma, and that one deals with the general disposition of the people there. As I said before, they truly are the friendliest people I have ever come across. Not a day went by that a stranger on the street wouldn’t strike up a conversation with us. Usually, it happened at least a few times daily. Sometimes, they only wanted to know where we were from. Other times, they wanted to practice their spoken English. In one instance, we had a guy hang out with us for the remainder of the day in Rangoon/Yangon. The people in that country, in spite of all the efforts on the part of their military government to the contrary, have not lost their amicable spirits. They took a genuine interest in us. Too often while traveling, you feel that locals strike up conversations because of some thinly veiled ulterior motive (“Come to my shop,” “I can show you the temple for…,” etc.). That simply did not really occur in Burma/Myanmar. The interest was sincere and mutual. They seemed to enjoy talking to foreigners, and the casual conversations were a breath of fresh air for both parties involved. It’s inspiring to see that in a country so ravaged by decades of political violence and tyranny. The good-natured people have not lost their senses of hospitality and generosity, nor their incredible sense of humor. Without getting too preachy, I’m pretty sure that there is an important lesson in there somewhere. Governments, violence, and fear can do a lot of things, but they cannot kill the hearts and spirits of human beings unless the victims of such forces allow them to do so. For proof of this, I highly recommend a trip to Burma.
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