Myanmar: Mandalay - Hsipaw - Pyin-U-Lwin - Bagan - Yangon

Myanmar: Mandalay - Hsipaw - Pyin-U-Lwin - Bagan - Yangon

From Thai Bites:

In 1948 Myanmar gained independance from the British commonwealth. Soon after a Burmese government was formed and in the 1960's 'The Burmese Road to Socialism' government took power. For 30 years Myanmar cut itself off from the world and drove itself into political, economical and social decline. In 1988 the long suffering Burmese decided they'd had enough of their incompetent government and staged an uprising. Over 3,000 people were killed just in Yangon during the demonstrations after the army were told to shoot any demonstrators. Finally it was agreed that for the first time in over 30 years the country would face free, democratic elections with the succesful party taking control. The NLD (National League for Democracy) party won 80% of the votes but 15 years on this landslide victory has never been honoured with the succesful party members imprisoned, tortured, killed or put under house arrest. Since 1989, Aung San Suu Kyi the NLD leader and winner of the Noble Peace Prize of 1991 has repeatedly been placed under house arrest and had her offices closed. Today Myanmar is governed by the Military, it has one of the worst human rights records in the world and is only becoming furthur distanced from the democratic world.

I felt that I should give a brief insight into the modern history of Myanmar to start this update as it had such a strong impact on the time we spent there and has raised strong emotions within me. Knowledge of the regime these people live under may help understand their strength of character and daily trivialities.

Mandalay is the second biggest city in Myanmar and until the British colonised, was the capital. It was also home to the Royal Family who we (kindly) sent into exile to India. Today, the city expands from the former Palace and pretty moat which encircles it (although I later learnt this "pretty" moat was in fact created by village labour slaves in 1996 just before the government decided to open the country to tourists). Today it's a hustling, bustling town which is stifling hot and dusty and is somewhere you can loose yourself in for several days. As we quickly learnt, wherever you find a tourist feature in Myanmar, you will also discover an entourage of English students happy to provide information or merely just to practise their language skills on you. English really does seem to be the up and coming thing in Myanmar which is great but also poses the threat that in 10 years time there will be a sudden influx of fluent English speakers and unfortunately no industry or work for them to fulfill. We met people that have invested their entire savings or put their businesses on the line to send their kids to English language schools. Anyway, as we wandered around the temples, pagodas or even just the streets we were always happy to chat with the students and on one occasion were surprised to find dictaphones shoved under our mouths and cameras flashing in our faces. From time to time I became sceptical of the legitimacy of the students when the tour we were given finalised with a "I'm very poor" and batting of the eyelids to which your heart strings tugged at your wallet.

Mandalay is home to the "World's biggest book" which is in fact a temple housing 729 marble slabs detailing Buddha's commandments. Personally I think it should receive fame not for the temple but for the insane amount of trishaw drivers operating in the city. Unlike other Asian countries where tiny, old men amazingly cycle people around in a rickshaw, in Myanmar they somehow manage to cycle around 2 people at one time - both passengers sit back to back in a side car style seat. I find it unbelievable that they can do this at all let alone manage to cycle around both Carl and I together - a weight of more than 20 stone when the driver probably came to about 9 at the most! We were told by one friendly (?!) driver we were "Very fat customers."

As a traveller to Myanmar there is very little to do in the evenings, often restaurants would close before 9pm and bars were very hard to find, the Burmese preferring tea shops scattered along the roadside. One evening in Mandalay however is always accounted for - a trip to see the Moustache Brothers Troupe. In Myanmar, evenings of traditional song and dance are popular and as we discovered, the Burmese have a great sense of humour and like the British appreciate the use of satire. The Moustache Brothers have gained worldwide recognition from their evenings where they combine song and dance with humour and are also strong opponents to the government and regime. Unfortunately in 1997 one of the Brothers was imprisoned for 7 years after making a light hearted remark about the government at one show. This is how it works in Myanmar - it is illegal to talk about politics, the country is rife with spies and intelligence who will report any word said against the regime. If you're discovered doing so, you can expect an imprisonment of at least 7 years (that's if you make it through the 7 years alive). As we travelled around the country we would have to complete registration documents at each town we entered and each hotel we stayed. As we travelled on buses we would stop between each State to show our details whilst the locals would also be forced to provide their ID cards and a reason for travel. The military presence was seen every now and again - often just a young boy in uniform holding a rifle. We used to joke that somewhere in the country they had a huge map with thumbtacs and string following our journey and ensuring we kept well within the boundaries foreigners can travel. Anyway, the Moustache Brothers show mainly centered upon song and dance and politics was seldom mentioned - which after spending 7 years in prison for, I don't blame them!

Beyond Mandalay 1,070 Metres above sea level lies the town of Pyin-U-Lwin, an old British hill station favoured for its cool climate and likeness to Europe with its green hills and potential to grow fresh fruit and vegetables. These days P-U-L is home mainly to those from Indian and Nepalese descent. Upon colonisation, Indians fled into Burma and appear to have settled around this town. It also has dozens of traditional colonial houses in the Tudor style - some are well maintained whereas some have been left to rot but they somehow give the town a very different feel to the rest of the country. The road is lined with Indian restaurants and sweater knitting shops - the women all sit knitting whilst the men while away their day in a tea shop. The method of transport around the town is by horse and carriage which really does make you feel like you've been transported back in time! In the center of the town stands the clock tower, a gift from Queen Victoria with the Big Ben chime. What with the break from the heat, the relaxed friendly attitude of the town and the great Indian food we had a lovely time in P-U-L. The only criticism I have is of the apparent bed bugs our hotel had, little needs to be said on that one.

Tired of travelling by bus, we decided to take the boat along the Ayeyarwady river between Mandalay and Bagan. At times the river is so wide you can see neither bank but from time to time we were able to watch river life as we floated past. Food stops on the boat consisted of local women wading into water up to their neck to throw food onto the boat to customers. For some reason someone tried to sell me a whole watermelon and kept throwing it at me - what she thought I needed or would do with a whole watermelon I don't know.

Bagan is a dry, desert plain also previously a capital. Over the hundreds of years under Royalty, each Monarch built his own temple, pagoda or monastry in the region. Today there stands a total of 2,700 temples in Bagan. Although nothing to the scale of Angkor in Cambodia, the temples ranged from modern golden stupas to decaying bricks. It's the views across the plain with 2,700 temples on the horizon that makes Bagan a must see for any visitor to Myanmar. It was a beautifully peaceful town where again travel was by horse and cart although this time the cart was more remniscent of 'Little House on the Prairie' style. I was amazed how quiet the roads were, so very contrasting to the usual filty squallor I'd become accustomed to in other towns. It soon became knowledge to me that before the arrival of tourists, the government decided that the area of Bagan resided by locals was not "pleasing on the eye" and therefore demolished all housing in the town. Locals were forced to move out of town and somehow build new homes and lives for themselves where the government thought more appropriate. There still stands piles of rubble around the town which were destroyed, our guide said they hadn't gotten round the clearing it yet but after 15 years, I seriously doubt it ever will be. I'm sure the housing was a lot more "pleasing on the eye" than the knowledge that these piles of rubbish which were at some time a family home were there for my supposed benefit.

We visited 24 temples in 2 days, all very different and all very enjoyable. They were however 2 very exhausting days. Instead of the English language student brigade, here you are hassled by the "You buy something from my shop" troupe. The first few temples we explored we thoroughly enjoyed the running commentary we were given by young girls guiding us around, they also came in handy with their torches to guide you through small holes and walkways(in which we saw 3 snakes and a scorpion) leading to the roof of the building affording great views. By the fourth or fifth temple it soon became apparent that this guidance didn't come for free and you'd quite literally be attacked upon exit, it wasn't such a pleasurable experience. On the first day I wore my usual long trousers and t-shirt (I never wore anything other than long trousers in Myanmar as it's a great insult for women to show their legs) and had plain earrings, shell necklace, bracelet and Breast Cancer awareness band on my arm. Each temple I would be groped by women eager for me to give them my jewellry, my clothes, my sunglasses and hairband. They would claw at my arms, especially keen for some reason for the Breast Cancer band begging me to "Give me present". They would pull at my clothes and gather around me with such force that I often felt extremely uncomfortable. In the meantime Carl's happy snapping away on the camera totally oblivious to what's going on, he's a man after all and noone would dare do anything against him! In the end I decided to play them at their own game and had lots of laughs and fun with them although I never did part with any clothes or jewellry.

As has been the case of so many countries we've visited, the kids of Myanmar were gorgeous. All they ever wanted was a cuddle or just a friendly smile and several times I could've wrapped them up and taken them away with me. At one temple I started chatting to 2 young kids giving me the usual sales routine when by chance I heard them say something to a Japanese tourist. Within minutes I'd learnt they were pretty much fluent in English, Japanese, French, Spanish, Korean, Italian and German so we ended up staying at the temple for over an hour whilst I chatted away to them in Japanese, French and Spanish. Imagine the opportunities in the UK facing one so young with such ability! Yet I doubt these girls will ever leave Bagan and will be selling their postcards and chatting to tourists their whole lives earning pittance a day.

Our horse and cart driver "Win Mon Ton" or "Windy Mountain" as he became known to us took us to see a traditional village festival one afternoon. It reminded me so much of the festivals we took part in Japan, the kids dressed up in their full regalia performing to proud mums and dads in the crowd. I'm still not sure the meaning of the festival but it was obvious a great deal of effort and money had been put into the day which comes to each village once a year. After the festival we visited the home of a beautiful lady and were fore-warned that to refuse any food or drink offered would be a great insult as they cannot afford to feed themselves let alone guests. She made us feel very at home and plied us with rather bizarre looking food proudly watching our every move and making sure her neighbours saw she had foreigners in her home! Luckily I'm accustomed to eating strange food after being brought up in Japan and thankfully Carl eats anything (as we've learnt on this trip) so I think we did a good job of being respectful guests.

The Burmese are a generous and kind race, although they have little to no money and the majority live in poverty they make regular donations to monastries and their local pagoda. A teacher earns $12 a month and a family of 6 can live off $3 per day - wonder why reports cite corruption within the education and health sector? I'd say those figures give a faint inclining why. Each morning monks leave their monastry to collect alms from local villagers - they will walk around the town collecting cups of rice from each resident and in the afternoon nuns will do the same. After learning that locals use river water for drinking I often tried to offer our bottled water to them but they would never accept it, their excuse being "Oh my stomach very strong". Little do they know of the typhoid, cholera and diptheria that thrives in that water - one of the many reasons the national life expectancy age is 54.

There is no doubt that to be born a man in Myanmar is a true blessing. I found it unbelievably hard to adapt to being ignored, ommited from conversations or just simply insulted because of my gender. Because in the societies I've grown up in I've always been treated as equal, suddenly having to take a back step and stand in the shadows of male counterpaths was incredibly difficult. We learnt that in the Buddhist religion women are seen to be of equal standing as a rat or frog whereas men are at the highest level one can achieve before reaching Nirvana (I.e. Heaven). I was told that if you lead a bad life you will be reincarnated as a woman and that for Buddhist families, giving birth to a girl can bring shame on the family. I don't think any man could actually understand the profound effect travelling in a society which preaches this had on me; I am respectful of other religions, customs and beliefs but having them imposed upon me whereby I felt like a second class citizen is not easy.

Travel within the country was always long and ardous, you would often board a bus not knowing if you were heading to your intended destination. Bus drivers seem to be incapable of driving more than 2 hours without stopping for food so just as you feel you're making progress on a journey it's time to fill their stomachs once again. Seldom do you ever have any leg room - this is usually given priority to someone's market goods that are still alive and moving in bags beneath your feet. Within the aisle of the bus where Carl would try to stretch his legs, it is common for the "bus conductor" to place stools so that an extra 10 or so passengers can travel onboard. Regardless of whether the bus was full or empty, the locals would always choose to sit at the stool next to us just so they could have something to stare at for the journey. Poor Carl who was the person on the bus the most in need of room was always the most deprived. Your seat would also always come with a complimentary small plastic bag - for the spit you hack up on the journey! On our final journey back to Yangon the bus stopped twice just as dusk was falling and the driver and conductors (for some reason you get 3 on every trip) all rallied together with hammers and crow bars underneath the bus banging away for well over an hour. Whilst we were panicing we'd be stuck in the middle of nowhere overnight on a broken bus, the locals all sat happily chatting and laughing - this must be a frequent occurance. In the end we drove off and 16 hours later arrived in Yangon; I'm still none the wiser what was wrong.

Throughout our travels we've continuously exchanged and swapped books and long journeys are always more comfortable with the help of a good book. In Myanmar it is near impossible to find English books - all books detailing Burmese history are banned by the government and if you happen to come across an old copy of Time or Geographic, don't be surprised to find pages torn out - take a look at the contents page and you'll see those pages held an article on Myanmar. All media is State controlled (although rarely will you have the chance to view any media, the electricity supply being so infrequent) and each town has the following billboards erected by the State:

Only when there is discipline will there be progress.
Anyone who is riotous, destructive and unruly is our enemy.
Oppose foreign nations interfering in internal affairs of the state.
Crush all internal and external destructive elements as the common enemy.

After our time in Myanmar I feel very passionate about political affairs and human rights and unbelievably ignorant and naiive to what goes on in the world around us. I feel angry that regimes like this are allowed to continue, where people are deprived basic human rights and made to suffer on a daily basis. It angers me that still poverty exists in a country where I've also seen the immense wealth by an elite few, Indonesia is the only other country I've ever seen it to the same extent.
Mentally and physically travel in Myanmar was tough; we often had to give so much attention to other people that it was only at evening mealtime that Carl and I had a chance to talk to one another and discuss the day.

I've learnt that as a human being you have no say in your nationality, race, gender or creed and yet all around the world we all strive for the same - my parents are no different to the parents in Myanmar who also just want the right to give their kids the best standard of life possible and offer endless opportunities. It's touched my heart that these people are denied that basic right and freedom of speech. The biggest lesson I've learnt comes at no cost at all - a friendly smile, a wave and sparing a moment of your time with someone is the greatest gift you can offer.

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