Finally, our latest episode from Burma. Things have been pretty hectic since we started our gig in Australia, but I managed to put this short (3 minutes) video together highlighting our trip to this interesting land. In it are all of the places we mentioned in our posts: Shwedagon Pagoda, Inle Lake, and the weekly market. Hope you enjoy.

Because traveling to Burma is something of a weighty decision, we made a difficult promise to ourselves before setting foot there: to shed 9 months worth of thick traveler’s skin. This is the stuff that you get from traveling to places like Egypt and India, the wariness of dealing with locals who, in those places, seem to only ever want to get at the contents of your wallet.

Conversing without a catch

By the advice of some other travelers who had been to Burma, we elected to be open to any and all to approach us while in this troubled country. We had heard that some people just wanted to practice their English; others looking for contact with the West (or Outside in general); and some looking to discuss politics. Because of the severity of the situation, we figured these kinds of interactions were crucial to getting the most out of a slightly controversial trip, and they were worth the potential risk of talking to the wrong types of people who often approach you while backpacking in Asia.

The Student

“Hi, where are you from?” asked the young looking, well-kept guy that appeared from behind me as we walked through a crowded street market in downtown Yangon.

A short conversation later, and Val and I had agreed to meet the young student (name withheld for privacy concerns) the next day to help him practice his English conversation, and for him to show us around town a little.

We met him in front of Sule Paya, the center of town, and on the way to the city’s main market, he immediately started telling us about the people’s dire situation. He told us about how he was studying business, and that his older brother (whom he lived with) was paying for his education. In short, he was the main hope of his family; bright and motivated, they were all sacrificing so that he could get an education, hopefully find a good job in either Bangkok or Singapore, and send enough money back home to support the family.

His English was amazing, and he was incredibly polite, and more interestingly for us, very forthcoming about the political situation in Myanmar. When we asked if he was worried that he’d get in trouble for talking to us, he assured us that as long as we spoke in English, everything would be fine.

While showing us around some of the main sites in Yangon, he told us about the restrictions on the internet, the censorship of the press, and the tens of thousands of starving people in Myanmar. “They know it, but they don’t care,” he said a few times, shaking his head. He was referring to how the military junta could spend money on whatever they wanted, yet somehow neglect to feed hungry people, even in Yangon.

He also gave us tips on how to avoid giving the government money, some of which weren’t in our guidebooks or on the internet. He gave us a list of acceptable bus companies and encouraged us to change money on the black market.

Probably the most shocking thing we learned from our friend was that he had at one time been forced to live on the streets with his older brother. His older brother, he told us, had been very good to him. He was past the age at which most Burmese men marry, but could not afford to support both his younger brother and a wife. So until he graduated and hopefully went overseas looking for work, he could not find a wife. His eyes almost filled with tears as he explained how good his older brother had been to him.

At one point, when his brother lost his job, they lived on the streets. They spent a whole week with nothing to eat, and weren’t sure what would happen to them. Finally, his older brother got a job in construction, and now they live together in a small apartment.

It was an eye-opening experience talking to our young (20) friend, who has more drive than anyone I knew growing up. When we left him we sincerely wished him well, and thanked him for telling us so much about his country.

Jack London and some Lychee

While waiting at a travel agent’s office at the main shopping area in Yangon alone, I was approached by a kindly looking old man. He wore clothes that should have been replaced years ago, looked a little too thin, and carried two large plastic bags, worn from repeated use. One was full of clothes or rags; it was difficult to tell. The other held books, sharing space with a pile of lychees.

“Hello,” he said with a warm grin. I greeted him back. He asked where I was from, and so I told him. An even warmer grin spread across his face. “I love America,” he said as he leaned forward. “It is like a kind of paradise.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” I said, not sure quite how to react.

“Oh, no. It is paradise. I love America. I love their ideas, the things they do,” he said, clearly undeterred by my hesitancy to accept such glowing, forgiving praise.

“Well, we don’t always do the right thing, but I think we try,” I said, making a compromise more with myself than with him. It was obvious at this point he didn’t care whether or not I recognized the complexity of the actions of the United States. He would not be deterred.

“How do you like my country,” he asked, hopeful and cautious.

“Oh,” I said, “It is beautiful here. I wish I could see more. And the people are so friendly.”

He continued smiling, obviously happy with my reply. I was expecting him to want to talk about the situation with the government, the international community, etc. Instead, he started talking about Jack London.

“I’ve read all of his books,” he said, quite proudly. “I study English and read his books.” As he said this he reached into one of his old plastic bags and pulled out an ancient copy of “Sea Wolf,” written by none other than Jack London. He went into a long, and incredibly difficult to understand explanation of why he liked him so much. He asked me if I was alone, and I said my “wife” (sometimes just easier) was back at the hotel.

“Ah, you have a better half?” he asked, clearly pleased. Then he reached into his bag and pulled out several handfulls of lychee, insisting I take them. I tried to refuse, but he was persistent, so I politely accepted his gift, promising to share them with my “wife.”

The Junta

The government of Myanmar is an authoritarian military dictatorship, often referred to as the junta. They are in complete control of the country. There is no freedom of speech or press, and they actively attempt to block the majority of internet sites, particularly news and communications, especially email.

While we were in the country, they announced that Aung Su Kyi was to be held under house arrest for another year. Many of her supporters, and probably most of the country, had hoped she would be released at the end of her most recent term. We had to hear about this from a fellow traveler; it would never appear in any of the country’s newspapers, all of which are heavily censored. We found a few copies of “The New Light of Myanmar,” which is the official government-run English newspaper. It consists mainly of positive stories about the government and the generals, and absolutely nothing about the opposition or anything that would make them look bad.

We were out of Yangon at the time, but our student friend told us that there were several demonstrations when people heard the news (on the BBC, since the in-country news outlets are all state run and wouldn’t announce something like that). Many people were arrested, even those attending a peaceful ceremony at a major pagoda, where people merely prayed for the release of Ang Suu Kyi. He even told us that locals were under a curfew for the next several days, although foreigners wouldn’t be affected.

Our student friend also said he is very careful who he talks to when he is in public, like at a bus stop. He said the government has hired spies who walk around the city center in plain clothes, trying to pick up the mood on the street or get wind of important events. For this reason he rarely speaks to strangers.

He also said that many people in the country pay very little attention to the actions of the government. This, he thinks, is because they are so poor they are simply trying to survive and take care of themselves, and don’t want to get involved in politics. He admitted that he was very careful to avoid political situations or conversations (except with foreigners in English) for fear of being arrested or getting into trouble of any kind.

More information about the state of affairs in Myanmar is available from multiple sources on the internet. If you are interested, please take a look.

We cruised on a long boat through neighborhoods built right on the water. The inhabitants row their boats by standing on one end and using one leg to move the paddle. Their hundreds of tiny little foot muscles must be insanely strong!

It seemed like one of those places that has stayed pretty much the same for decades. All over the lake you can find fishermen with old school Southeast Asian nets as well as seaweed farmers hacking and lifting piles of the stuff onto their boats. We also saw people working hard in tomato gardens floating entirely on the water.

People in the surrounding villages gather to sell their stuff in a different place on different days of the week, and we rocked up in our boat to one of these markets. It was good fun, just a lot of people bustling around the mud (it rained heavily the night before) looking for good produce, underwear, or whatever else they need/want. I didn’t do so well navigating in the mud and my foot got stuck. I was unsuccessfully trying to yank it out while leaning to the side to let a few people through who were carrying sacks bigger than me on their heads. It was stressfully funny.

And here’s a photo of a cute lady who was selling cabbage:

We went on a hike through some hilly farmland and encountered some seriously awesome swarms of dragonflies. And of course some really cute and kind-hearted kids who gave us flowers and mangoes.

Not to mention, our hotel, the Aquarius Inn, had the most incredible hospitality of the entire trip. They were always over-the-top with kindness and anytime they found you lounging around, they’d bring bananas with honey and local soy snacks with tea.

Inle rocks!

More Than Meets The Eye

Away from the stunning, gold-covered elegance of the main compound lies a small, peaceful shrine under the shade of a beautiful bodhi tree. Legend has it that this robust specimen is a clipping from the very tree the Buddha attained enlightenment beneath in Bodgaya, India.

When we stumbled upon the place, there wasn’t much happening there. Just a few people milling around, the sound of the wind rattling the chimes at the top of the nearby gold-covered pagoda, and some birds who probably have no idea they’re loitering near such a famous tree.

Welcome to Downtown Different

We started out in the major city, Yangon. Fresh from the airport and checked into our hotel, we hit the pavement looking for lunch and having no idea what to expect. We walked down the main avenue and saw locals shouting good deals for their goods, families strolling together, and friends arm-in-arm. Most of the people (male and female) were wearing a longhi, a traditional long tied skirt with anything from t-shirts to dress shirts with them. We thought it was pretty cool.

Our first reaction was to ask, “What happened to all of the foreigners?” Since we only went to major cities and tourist sites in heavily foreigner-visited Vietnam, it was a pleasant surprise. It sounds elitist, snobby, hypocritical, etc., but places are more magical and exciting when you’re the only foreigner around. Actually, it’s mainly better because people in heavily visited places are not only used to you, but have come up with clever ways to overcharge you. Not so in Burma. 99% of the time if someone looked at you they’d smile warmly and sometimes say hello. Other people just minded their own business as if you weren’t there. It was so great. It was almost never difficult to find a fair price for taxis, food, water, etc. If they inflated some of the prices a little, however, it’d be pretty hard to notice. We went to a restaurant three days in a row (lunch and dinner!) for their uberdelicious $1 all-you-can-eat Indian meals. $1! Incredible!

Shwedagon Pagoda

One of the shocks of Yangon is the unavoidable poverty. Most buildings are pretty dilapidated, the cars are ancient, and fabulous displays of wealth are few and far between. Unbelievably, the largest pagoda complex in the city is almost completely covered in gold and jewels!

Shwedagon Pagoda allegedly holds 8 hairs of Buddha inside, and is the most important Buddhist site in the country. Our guidebook lists 57 different things to see, ranging from holy bodhi trees to zodiac and planetary temples.

My jaw was wide open for about the entire two hours we walked around, and the place was definitely one of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.

To learn more about where we are going, check out the Wikipedia article. I also updated the maps area (well, the big one at least), so you can see our main route and where we’ll be going all the way up until the trip is over.