Myanmar De-mystified

If you're ever plonked into Myanmar with only a map and no knowledge of Burmese, well...good luck.  For one, there's no satellite, so you don't have the option of calling someone to seek help even if you have international roaming on your cell phone. Two, road signs are scarce.  (Yes, this may easily be a repetition of my blunder in Prague, but I swear, I looked!) And even if there are road signs, outside Yangon, it's all in Burmese, with no English translation. 

Wait, which side of the road
should we be driving on again?

Heck, the road system itself took me some time to figure out. The taxi we'd taken upon arrival in Yangon International airport was a right-hand driven vehicle.  Preoccupied with taking in the Yangon scenery on our way into town, it wasn't until much later - during one of our hairy dashes across the chaotic traffic - did we figure out that Myanmar drives on the right side of the road. Yet, less than 50% of these vehicles are left-hand driven. It's the weirdest thing. So how, you may ask, do cars overtake other cars on the road? According to Wikipedia: 

“

All vehicles are driven with a passenger called a "spare" in place to watch the oncoming traffic and inform the driver as to whether it is safe to overtake or not.

”

My numerous taxi rides in this country tells me otherwise: Drivers simply ease their cars to the left side of the road and pray that there's no oncoming traffic. Jeepers.

Day one in Yangon was spent in Bogyoke Aung San (Scott) Market shopping for semi-precious jewelry and exchanging money.  Turns out that the forums on the www are right.  The Burmese accept only clean, crisp, new-looking US dollars.  Notes with a distinct folded crease down the middle, or those with slight scribbles, inked, or even the most minuscule tear are rejected.  With no ATM machines or credit card terminals, we found ourselves with hundreds of "unusable" US dollars that no merchant was willing to accept.  The ironic thing is that local Burmese kyat notes in the most deplorable conditions can be used. One grocery store owner in Nyaung Shwe attempted to return our change with a torn 500 kyat note - the missing half of which was patched with paper to complete the rectangle shape of the bank note.

Bagan

Bird's eye view from Pyathadar Pagoda

Absolutely astounding.  Despite our three attempts to view the sunrise and two sunsets in this ancient city failing spectacularly - rain for the first two sunrise attempts; ominous looking clouds sliding over the sun and remaining there for exactly the duration for the third sunrise and both sunset attempts - we had a brilliant time there.

The failed sunrise attempts provided the unexpected privilege to see a group of alm-seeking Buddhist monks making their way to the market.  The footfalls of the burgandy-clad monks, crunching quietly into the sand and mud, as they trek across the still asleep town, is a far cry from the scene in Luang Prabang - or so I think.  Mind you, I haven't yet have the opportunity to travel Luang Prabang, but I imagine the scene there to be quite the circus, what with chattering tourists jostling to take pictures of monks on their morning rounds.

Maybe it's the off-season. But life in Bagan is simple, unhurried.  Horse carts share the roads with locals on bicycles. Trucks packed with people and piled high with sackfuls of what-not putter past women balancing huge baskets on their heads.

Left pic - Burmese women promptly balancing their empty basket on their heads after being dropped off
Right pic - A lady giving alms to Buddhist monks in the early morning

The classic way of traveling around Bagan is by horse cart.  The other way is to rent a bicycle and explore on your own.  We did both, the latter of which we sweated lakes under the hot afternoon sun.  The last time any family member ever did any proper cycling - bar the older sister who up until a couple of years ago was a serious rider - was at least seven years ago (30, for mom).  The experience made for some pretty hilarious moments.  At any point in time where we had to cross the road to a cluster of temples located on the other side of where we were, my lovely mother, so diffident was she in her cycling abilities, would break abruptly while jamming her feet to the ground. Once her rickety bicycle screeched to a painful halt, she'd hop off her bicycle and proceed to wheel it across the street to where we needed to be.

The romantically lit stair-
well of Temple 2007

With the exception of Shwesandaw Pagoda, our clambers up the narrow, steep staircases of the temples are often enveloped in darkness and overwhelmed with the smell of bat poo.  The adorable little brother of a caretaker in Temple 2007* together with his equally little friend lit candles along the stairwell for us.  Our climb(s) were rewarded with unparalleled views of Bagan:   


Note*: Most of the 4,000+ temples are unnamed and identified only by numbers.

Magnificent panaromic view of the temples and pagodas of Bagan from Shwesandaw Pagoda 

The impressive Ananda Pagoda.
(Had to wade through an icky ankle deep puddle to take this picture!)

Inle Lake

From the dusty, hot weather of Bagan, we arrived to the cool climate of Shan state where Inle Lake is.  Running low on kyats, we were dismayed to find that the taxi drivers outside the airport were quoting a fare twice than what we know it to be.  No driver budged from their asking price, and in the end, we decided on sharing it with a couple of Canadian boys who'd disembarked from the same plane.  Now, sharing a car with six people isn't usually a big problem, unless, 

(a) The car is small, or

(b) The passengers are taller, like, way taller than the average Asian and of football player size, or 

(c) All of the above

How we managed to squeeze into the teeny tiny car, I don't know.  But after an hour bouncing on roads full of potholes and driving through calf-deep water (it had been pouring rain earlier that morning), feeling like squished sardines and desperately hoping that the car doesn't break down half way, we finally arrived at Nyaung Shwe, the town a few kilometres north of Inle Lake.

We took it easy that first day, meandering through the busy town, trying out various street foods by pointing at dishes ordered by locals seated at another table.  It should be mentioned here that any traveler visiting the Shan state of Myanmar should most definitely try the very tasty Shan noodle.  The closest thing I can liken this dish to is Malaysia's gan-lao kuey teow (干捞粿条), though it tastes nothing like our dish and is soupier, stickier, spicier, and peanut-tier. Yummers.


We left for the lake bright and early on day two.  Five minutes into our journey, we spotted fishermen afar doing the one legged rowing that is unique to the region.

A lone fisherman fishing while maneuvering the boat using one leg only 

Boats filled with sacks of tomatoes packed to the brim sped along in the opposite direction. When asked where the tomatoes are from, our boatman steered us into a maze of canals and we found ourselves in the midst of a tomato farm - rows upon rows of tomato plants floating on the lake.  It was explained to us that to create these farms, the farmers anchor thin bamboo poles to the lake bed and create these strips using mud and water hyacinth dredged from the bottom of the lake.  Tomato plants are then planted on these strips, absorbing the necessary nutrients from these man-made islands.  Most fascinating.

Floating tomato farm at Inle Lake

We had the wonderful opportunity to meet a beautiful long-neck lady of the Paduang tribe.  The brass coils, we were told, are first applied to an eight-year old child, then longer coils are added at eleven, and again at fifteen.  It doesn't look it, but gosh, these rings are heavy! They had one of these on display and it weighted about four kilograms by feel. 

Upper left - One legged rowing fisherman
Lower left - Farmers harvesting water hyacinth for the tomato bed
Right - Beautiful long-neck lady from the Paduang tribe

Yangon
The heat was a slap to the face after Inle Lake.  We arrived at our accommodation feeling irritated, hot and hungry, but all these were forgotten when greeted with the view from our room.

Wowza! Shwedagon Pagoda from our room.

Up-close, this great pagoda is positively marvelous.  The yellow you see in the pictures? REAL GOLD.  And there's a friggin' diamond at the very tip. Seriously. 

“

The golden glow can be attributed to the 8,688 solid gold bars plated on the lower pagoda whereas another 13,513 bars are plated on the higher pagoda. The tip of the stupa, visible only to the gods or for those who get a birds eye view of the Shwedagon Pagoda is set with 5,448 diamonds, 2,317 rubies, sapphires and other gems. About 1,065 golden bells help in praying to the gods whereas a single 76 carat diamond winks to the gods from the very top. Read more here and here.

”

76 carat diamond! That, my friend, is one super whopper of a diamond.  Some person - a tourist, probably - decided to make life easy for fellow Lonely Planet readers and took the liberty to mark "X's"  on the ground behind one temple. Depending on which "X" one stands (when it's dark out) and look at the tip of the pagoda, one would be able to see the tip glinting in that precious stone's colour (i.e. ruby red, emerald green, white diamond, yellow & orange gems.) Very cool.

We spent a good five hours people watching and getting bedazzled by the various sparkling temples in the vicinity.  

To think that we first arrived with no itinerary and no plans, only vague ideas of the places we'd like to hit.  It all worked out beautifully in the end.   

For more on Myanmar, visit my dear friends' Paula and Adam's travelling blog.