The incredible untouched natural beauty of Myanmar lends itself to be the perfect place for those who wish to explore real Asia.
Myanmar, formerly known as Burma, is a country that is often overlooked by travelers to South East Asia. The people of Myanmar have suffered terribly under dictatorial rule, sanctions and terrible cyclones, not to mention the current refugee crisis of the Rohingya. I visited Myanmar in mid-2010, just before it emerged from its isolation and before the release of opposition leader Aung-San Suu Kyi from house arrest. The silver lining in Myanmar's prior isolation from the world is that its natural beauty has remained largely untouched by overdevelopment and is a paradise for adventure travelers who want to explore Asia without being surrounded by hordes of tourists. In fact, I traveled solo for 2 weeks and met a grand total of 5 tourists during my trip.
Yangon
I started out in Yangon, Myanmar's largest city (Naypyidaw is its official capital). When I went, Myanmar was issuing tourist visas on arrival at the Yangon airport, but their current policy (writing this March 2018) seems to be to require an online eVisa followed by a visa stamp on arrival.
I didn't want to go too adventurous just yet, so I stayed at one of the nicer hotels in Yangon. At the time, ATMs weren't widely available, if at all, and the official exchange rate was terrible. The receptionist at the hotel very matter-of-factly gave me directions to the market, the specific stall at the back of the market to go to and the specific person to ask for to exchange my US dollars for kyat (pronounced chyat).
The main attraction in Yangon is a large Buddhist temple complex called Swe (pronounced Shway) Dagon Paya or Pagoda. You could spend a lot of time wandering through and around all of the mini temples and stuppas within the complex. Some require you to maintain complete silence as monks and lay people alike are sitting in deep meditation. A good time to go is in the late afternoon or early evening as it is cooler then, and you can stay into the night and experience its very serene night-time charm.
I was yearning to hit the countryside of Myanmar so after spending a couple of days in Yangon I got on an overnight bus to Bagan. I did not visit Mandalay, the second-largest city in Myanmar. On this very long and bumpy overnight bus ride to Bagan I realized first hand how very gentle, kind and extremely patient the people of Myanmar are. A Burmese woman would not stop talking loudly the entire bus ride while we were all trying to catch some sleep. Being the only foreigner on the bus, I waited to see if any of the other passengers would say something to her. Not one did.
Bagan
Nestled in the countryside of Myanmar and and on the banks of the Irrawaddy River is Bagan. Bagan is a very special place, a sleepy town whose countryside is dotted with hundreds of abandoned Buddhist temples and stupas intermingled with dense foliage.
After checking into my simple guest house and being offered an upgrade to a double room because there were no other guests, I rented a bicycle from them and rode through the countryside toward the temple grounds.
Imagine visiting temples in many other places in the world where you may have to wait in long lines, hire tour guides and get watched and followed. Here, you pay one small fee and walk around on your own for as long and as far as you'd like. Other than a few locals selling their wares or passing through, I was literally the only person there for miles. It made for a serene and refreshing day with unlimited photo opportunities, exactly the kind of experience I was yearning for.
Most of the temples and stupas are small and crumbling or overgrown with dense foliage. Some of the larger ones have Buddha statues in them and you can go inside.
I chatted with some of the young Burmese men who were passing through. They were intelligent, pleasant, kind and funny. They all complained about the same thing: a lack of education and difficulty finding work. They all wanted to somehow make it to the United States for better opportunities.
After a few hours of exploring the temple grounds I had a wonderful lunch at the restaurant right outside the grounds and headed back to my guesthouse to get some rest.
There were 2 restaurants just down the road from the guesthouse I was staying at whose menus I had checked out beforehand. Just as I was leaving the guesthouse to get some dinner the electricity went out. Out came the kerosene lamps and I ended up having a candle lit dinner. I couldn't quite see what I was eating but it was delicious.
I had allowed myself two weeks in Myanmar and, other than the 2 night booking at the hotel in Yangon, I had made no other forward plans. A Rough Guide in hand, I really wanted it to be a day-by-day adventure. So without stressing about my forward journey I spent the next couple of days simply riding around the countryside, stopping in various fields to read or just relax. It was hot and humid but being in the tropics surrounded by jungle is exactly the experience I was there for.
One afternoon I went to an outdoor tea house and ended up meeting a fellow tourist from the UK. We switched various tables because we were being bitten alive by mosquitoes, but to no avail. We swapped travel stories for a bit and called it a night.
Inle Lake
After 3 days in Bagan, I decided I was ready to move on and I set out on an early morning bus ride to Inle Lake. The bus was more of a van than a bus, the seats were tiny (the Burmese are tiny people!), the roads were extremely bumpy, the seats had no cushioning, I had luggage in front of and behind my feet, and it was colder than I had anticipated it would be that early in the morning. There was no indication that any of these conditions would let up for the several hour journey ahead, except for the temperature. I kept reminding myself that I had signed up for exactly this kind of adventure, and it was being delivered full swing!
Inle Lake is a fresh water lake in south-central Myanmar. The town located at the lake is called Nyaungshwe. The rural life that exists in and around the lake is simply fascinating. The people that live along the lake live in stilted wooden huts that tend to be very close to each other, very crowded and very open. Each stilted house has a canoe roped to it that is used by the family to get around the lake, go fishing or transport their fish, produce or wares to the floating water markets or the markets in town. The people that live on the land around the lake live in huts with thatched roofs or small brick houses surrounded by lush tropical vegetation. They tend to engage in some farming on small plots of land, including rice and bananas, and own goats and chickens that tend to roam in or around the compounds.
I spent a few nights at a stilted resort on the lake, a bit of a splurge, but well worth it. The views of the lake from the resort were great and the only way to get to the resort from the town area lake shore was by boat. The food at the lakeshore restaurants, however, was way better than the food at the resort.
I spent most of my time taking boat or canoe rides along the lake, strolling along the shores of the lake, or gorging myself on amazing seafood a la Burmese at some of the restaurants and cafes around the lake. The whole place has a very rustic and rural charm. The Burmese are tenacious, gentle and warm. The only people who spoke any English were some of the restaurant owners who catered to tourists and the one tour guide who I met briefly. He was a thin and friendly young man who told me he was on a high fat diet because he wanted to grow his muscles.
The Buddhist Monk
One day I decided to be a bit more adventurous and stroll further in land through some of the alleyways leading away from the lake. To my surprise, I came to an opening where a small and rustic Buddhist temple and monastery were located. Some kids were kicking a ball around in the compound and a Buddhist monk was standing at the door, almost as though we was expecting me. He spoke very little English and had a genuine yet piercing look about him. He motioned me to go over to him and without asking me any questions about myself asked me if I wanted to see the inside of the temple and monastery. I was excited at that prospect and quickly agreed. He asked me to take my shoes off and go in with him. Through his minimal English he tried to explain a bit of the history of the place and then even took me all the way to the inner sanctum where only the priests normally go. I felt quite honored but also a tad uncomfortable. He really did seem genuinely interested in me and did not seem to want anything in return (I had had a very different experience in Yangon at the Swe Dagon Pagoda where a Buddhist monk called me over, gave me an unsolicited lecture on the Buddhist solution to the state of the world and then asked me for money). After a brief chat we bid a fond farewell and I took off.
Hsipaw
After a few days at Inle Lake I decided to be adventurous and venture further north into Myanmar to a less frequented town called Hsipaw.
At the lake shore I hopped onto the overcrowded minibus that shuttles you to the bus station in Nyaungshwe. The only way I could get a spot on the minibus was to literally stand on the bumper at the back of the minibus with at least 6 other people and hold on with one hand for dear life while reaching into my pocket to pay the conductor with the other, being cautious to avoid knocking anyone off the flimsy bumper with my large backpack. Adventure travel at its best!
This overnight bus ride was a bit more comfortable than other bus rides I had taken in Myanmar. When I woke up in the morning I didn't know where we were and whether we had passed Hsipaw. Every town we stopped at had signs in Burmese only and the bus driver spoke not one word of English and neither did the passengers. Even though mild panic was setting in, I decided to trust my intuition. As we approached a town that I was fairly certain was Hsipaw, I gathered my stuff quickly and went to the front of the bus. I gestured to the bus driver and simply asked, "see-paw?" The entire busload of people broke out into a cacophony of laughter. The bus driver simply nodded his head somewhat condescendingly and I got off the bus. I still wasn't entirely certain I was in the right place, still burning with irritation for being laughed at. Had I said something wrong? Mis-pronounced the town name? I kept walking in the direction of what I thought was the town center, occasionally stopping to ask someone if this was "see-paw". I got the same shy laugh every single time. I later found out Hsipaw is pronounced "tee-paw" (Spanish t ). To this day I do not know what "see-paw"means in Burmese.
I found a somewhat overpriced guesthouse (they were really the only game in town) at the other end of town perched on the slopes of a hill (you can stroll from one end of town to the other in less than 20 minutes). Thankfully they spoke English. After checking in, I sauntered back into town and found only 2 restaurants. I picked the one that appeared the cleanest to get some lunch. I ordered my meal by gesturing and this restaurant became my only source of meals (other than breakfast that was provided at the guesthouse) for the 2 days I spent here.
After lunch I decided to hike up the hill at the guesthouse end of town and into the country side. I hiked past rice paddies and farmland, got barked at by an angry dog and ran into the only tourists in Hsipaw, a couple that also happened to be staying at my guesthouse. They were returning from the direction I was heading in and they confirmed that I was heading in the direction of the "surprise". I bid them farewell and continued on my hike for another 20 minutes or so into thicker forest, passing a swarm of bees that I expertly avoided, until I got to the surprise--a 20 ft waterfall that fell into a bathtub-shaped pool. I was literally the only one there. I sat in the pool for a bit and soaked in the beauty of the place before beginning my trek back. I saw the couple I had met earlier relaxing at the guesthouse so we chatted for a bit and watched the sun set. There really wasn't anything to do in Hsipaw at night so after dinner I called it an early night.
My New Burmese Friend
The next day I decided to walk along the river that runs through Hsipaw to the other side of town from my guesthouse (where the bus from Inle Lake had dropped me off). Along the way I found myself at a very interesting looking colonial-style building. I peeked in and the owner was there. To my surprise, he spoke near-perfect English. He invited me in. It turns out this was his workspace but he also used it as a cafe and he asked me if I wanted to try his coffee. I promptly accepted, explaining to him that good coffee was probably the only thing that I missed on this trip. He seated me in his courtyard in the back of the building from where you had great views of the river and brought me what turned out to be amazing coffee. It really hit the spot. He was quite an educated gentleman and we ended up chatting about everything under the sun. We took quite a liking to each other and he asked me if I was interested in going to visit his friend who owned a humble farm in the countryside. I promptly agreed and got in the back of his Vespa and off we went. The farmer's house was sparse yet rustic and he had a beautiful family. He brought us raw mushrooms from his farm for us to munch on. I'm a pretty adventurous eater and there aren't many foods in life that I would refuse to eat, or at least tolerate, especially when offered by a generous family. But I must say that I have never tasted something so repulsive. It seemed to be a staple for them and I was relieved that they weren't insulted.
My new friend then asked me if I wanted to go to a natural hot spring. I did a double-take: meaning, literally out in nature, not piped into a pool? Yes! So we got back on his Vespa and rode a short distance off the main road to this tiny hot spring under a tree and hung out in it for a bit, soaking in the minerals and feeling utterly rejuvenated. By this time the sun was beginning to set and we were starting to get hungry. So we rode to his friend's restaurant/bar and hung out with a bunch of his friends. We had an amazing meal and smoked lots of cigarettes.
As the night wore on, I started to notice that my new friend was downing a few too many drinks a bit too quickly. I tried warning him but he reassured me he was okay. I wasn't so sure. As the night wound down, we said our good-byes to his friends and headed toward the scooter. I noticed a bit of a stumble and some slurred speech in him and I started to get really nervous about him riding his scooter. I asked him if we had any other options and he got annoyed at me and reassured me again he was okay to ride. I was his guest and so I didn't want to push the envelope too far. Besides, I had no other way of getting back to my guest house and despite every fiber of my being screaming "don't get on that scooter!", I felt like I had no choice. I mustered the courage and got on and off we went.
We got on the road and I noticed that he was swerving a little bit. My palms started to get sweaty. I didn't know how far away from town we were since we had taken so many twists and turns during the day, but I knew we weren't close. This was going to be a long ride. Then he swerved again for no reason. I felt completely helpless in the back of the scooter. Gulp! All of a sudden the traffic increased in both directions and my friend decided that the car in front of us was moving too slowly. I glanced over at the oncoming traffic and a car was approaching us quite fast. My Burmese friend, in his shaky judgment, decided the oncoming car was far enough and he pulled out of our lane and began accelerating. The oncoming car remained absolutely relentless in its approach toward us--no signs of decelerating. My new friend is revving his engine, trying to accelerate even faster. Oncoming car still maintaining speed. It is now so close that its headlights are shining right in my face and the Vespa has barely cleared the car we are trying to pass. Time literally slowed down and I was certain that we had now run out of it. Then, in the nick of time, my new friend cleared the car next to us and swerved back into our lane while the oncoming car didn't budge one bit. It missed us by less than a centimeter. My heart was in my throat, but I was relieved we survived. It was a close call. We finally made it home.
The next morning I stopped by my new friend's space to make sure he was okay and to say my goodbyes as it was time for me to head back to Yangon. He seemed a bit embarrassed by the previous night's proceedings but I thanked him for his generosity and giving me a taste of some local life in Myanmar. I marveled to myself that the places where I have had the most success in developing local friendships have also been the places with the lowest tourist presence...
Check out some of our cool products: a simple, hand-painted heart on white. T-shirts, hoodies, mugs, iPhone cases, etc. You can order them online at:
Comments