Burma, second impressions...

Today is October 17th, it is 9:09pm. I am laying down on my bed, windows open, and listening to some local kids playing the guitar on the bridge below, as the moon is almost full...i am in Nyaung Shwe, Inle Lake.

Well, Karen back in Yangon was so right...every new stop is only better than the previous so far. Burma IS unique that way.

So after Yangon, I went to Mandalay, only one and a half night, and one full day. But what a fantastic almost 48 hours.

I arrived in town at about 5 in the morning, just as the sun was showing the tip of its first rays. The bus station is located about 40 minutes from the center of town, or at least where I was hoping to find a place to stay. So I quickly negotiate a good price for a scooter ride. And how amazing it was to ride through the town still partially asleep, except for the monks and a few early shop keepers. A magical defile of red robe dressed monks cruising through town to get to their first food gathering chores. And well, when we arrived by the canals surrounding the royal palace, slightly hazy, and the hills in the back...and barely a home on the road...well, that was it, I was under the spell, yet again.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I found Mandalay simply gorgeous...so what!?

I find a good room, with even hot shower and breakfast. Great. I go up, take a quick nap. Well needed after 12 hours in a bus. An am up by 7 am to eat breakfast. Then I book my train ticket for the same night. 12 hours to get to Hsipaw...up north. Then I rent a very basic bike. And off I go, to explore the town and mostly its surroundings like no other tourist dared doing that boiling hot and burning day. I start by looking for the monastery alley. WOW! Oh my god! Magical and so strange at once. Riding through that very long and narrow alley I felt as if traveling back in middle ages times. I was literally saying 'wows' out loud every 2 seconds.

Then after that, I got lost in twisted little dirt path alleys in villages while trying to find the docks and the main slum. More 'wows' yet again...

Finally I find the river shore and the slums along it. Ha! Guess what...more 'wows' I just couldn't believe the beauty of what I was swing, me, the only foreigner around.

Tiny floating bamboo huts spread on the water with narrow bamboo hand made dodgy bridges connecting the whole web together. Then giant bamboo platforms on which the women were washing their clothes and longiis, then spreading all these bright colors all over the platforms, while the kids, bare naked are playing in the chocolate colored river water. And on the shore, flocks of hunch back cows scouting every inch for some sort of grassy substitute while trying to find some shade under the majestic giant centenary baobab looking trees. And in the back ground, a defile of long motorized pirogues zig zagging between the water lilies to go from one side of the shore to the next...anyway, you get the picture...still far from the actual reality! Lol

I spent a good two hours riding through the mud of the slum, and being greeted and smiled at by its so joyful inhabitants. People were were just so welcoming.

Then I headed south, hoping to find somehow the ubber famous U'bein bridge. Probably the second most famous one after the golden gate bridge. Pretty much the longest teak wood bridge in the world. It looked close and easy to find according to the out of proportion to y paper map I had in my sweaty pocket. Oh well...south/south west was the direction, so I check the compass on my watch and went on...pretty much down the river for about two more hours. Ha! Little did I know that I was going way off track. But the road was beautiful. All along the river shore, and under those big trees, there were simple yet comfortable looking two seater bamboo lounge chairs, for couple or potential future couple to come get some shade and further explore their relationship. There were strategically placed umbrellas behind each chair so that it was not possible to see from the road what was happening in the chairs. 

So, about 30 to 35 km south of my hotel, I reach a very long bridge, which looks nice and leads to a beautiful mountain with tons of pagodas. So I think I have reached the famous U'bein, at last. Hahahaha!

When I ask a local where U'bein is (hoping he will confirm my assumption and point at the bridge in front of us), to my disappointment, he tells me I have to head back to Mandalay. No wayyyy!!!

It is already late, about 4 pm and the sun will soon set and I won't see a thing. (Oh yes, VERY important to note that in Burma, unless you are in the very heart of downtown of very large cities, such as pretty much only Yangon, there is no street light infrastructure at night.)

So I head back north while asking every minute for directions again just to confirm that I am on the right track this time. At last I am lucky, yet again, and a local on his scooter offers to escort me all the way as he is going in that direction as well. Yesssss!!!!!

During the 30 or so minutes ride, we go through a weavers village, where huge pine tree wooden houses house numerous weaving machines (yes, whenever people tell you in shop that anything is hand woven, please don't be naive and don't believe them. And take their offering price, divide by two and don't budge until their price reaches yours.), threads of all colors are hung drying, a bit like in Marrakesh, but around pagodas, stupas, and in the streets. Such a delightful unexpected and totally unadvertised spectacle. I decided not to stop and let this be a moment just for myself. No photos. :-)

Finally we reach the bridge...ufffff....tons and tons of people, tourists, locals and foreigner. Never mind, I will come back another day, for sunrise and cross that bridge and take all the photos I want. A bit frustrating though, as the bridge was majestic! I walk around for a bit to take photos of the surroundings as they were quite magnificent as well, yet not at all the center of attention of the tourists.

And then I head back to Mandalay, hoping to make it before dark...another hour of bike before getting to my hotel. Faaaaarrrr...

But on the way, I couldn't help but keep on staring at the people bading in the river. It was beautiful. Everyone spread out between the lilies, and the men actually managing to combine bading up to their chin, and fishing at the same time. Multitasking indeed. Hahaha!

Later on, I absolutely have to stop. I see a bit of commotion on the left, at the entrance of a temple. So curious traveler that I am, I approach...and to my surprise...a soccer game. In the dirt. Players bare feet. No jerseys. And the fans spread out all over, even all over the stupas. Wow! I felt like it was a secret forbidden gathering, not for the eye of the white people. But people dont seem to mind that I am entering with my bike, all the way to the side line. On the contrary, they greet and smile at me.

I stay a bit, take some photos, soak the moment in, and take off. Still quite a bit before I get back home and the sun is only getting lower and lower.

I forgot to mention that the surroundings of Mandalay are not paved. So only dry dirt path...which means lots and lots of dirt dust flying all over. So picture this, plus about 8 to 9 hours on this bike under the burning sun, no air, and barely any cool water. I looked like crap. Seriously, I think I had a layer of dirt all over me, as thick as a T-shirt. Not pleasant at all. By now, I couldn't think about anything else than a freezing cold shower...

Finally I make it home...I shower, and head back out for some food. I walk around for quite a bit before finding a few options that look appetizing. One is an international place, filled indoors with white tourists. Seriously, it felt like all the foreigners of town were in there at the same time. Ufff...no thank you!

Across the street is a place, outdoor, under some trees, filled with people, but the majority of which are bold men with a long beard. Obviously Muslims. Hmmm...can't really see the food not the menu, but so many people must be a good thing, right. So when walking by for the second time, I see this big guy giving me the typical Arabic/Muslim hand gesture that means: "what do you want?". So I answer with the hang gesture that means food. And hop, he calls me in with a big smile. I walk up, and seat down. He gives me a menu in English. Yesssss! (I must say, I have been much lazier at learning Burmese than I was with Indonesian).

I order the traditional sweet tee, and then a chicken biryani. Wow!!!!!!soooooooo yummmmmmy! So simple a dish, yet so perfectly well cooked with all the right ingredients. Burmese's are known for always serving a set of various little plates with all sorts of condiments with each dish you order. Here it was a delicious soup, some pickled sliced onions, and some fresh mint...and some strangely pickled mango slices. So I just pour everything (except the soup which i eat apart) in my main plate to eat it all. Ha! You should have seen the faces of everyone around and off the staff. Not sure they are used to seeing people actually eating the mint and even less so a foreigner. So quickly they come get the little plate that had all the mint leaves in it before I finished it up...and after some time they bring me a new plate with a fresh pile of mint in it. To this day, I am convinced that they did this because the first batch of mint I was served was bit washed with purified water. So nice to see how attentive they were. When I am done, the big bearded guy comes back to my table, we start chatting a bit, and he quickly indicates to me another place across the street where they serve his favorite desert: 'kulpi'. OK, why not. Wow! Another territory of flavors I didn't know existed.

So finally, it is 9 pm when I go to sleep...after having packed my bags. My train departs at 4am...so I have yet another short night ahead...

...sweet and few dreams...

Burma...voila!

Today is October 11th, it is now 7:45pm. I am sitting on bus to get from Yangon to Mandalay...a 10 to 15 hr ride...the music presently playing in the bus is strangely very much sounding like African music. I asked my neighbor, it is actually not music but Buddhist prayers. Ahahaha!

My first impressions of Burma, but mainly Yangon for now are beyond any expectations!

Everyone I had met had raved about Burma and how it had been spectacular for them...

So far, I must say that there are two countries in the world that stay true to their reputation and that only amaze you more the minute you step in the country: Brazil, and now Burma.

I think I want to rename Yangon the Havana of Asia (you can even drink a glass of fresh sugar cane juice at ever street corner!!!),. It exudes such a similar vibe in terms of architecture and infrastructure. People piled on top of each other in cages. Very old and washed off buildings. Except that the street life in Yangon is way more active and busy.

But let me rewind a bit...

After spending a very short but delightful afternoon with Olivier and Sybille in their new apartment in bangkok, I made my long way, yet once again to bkk international airport.

Annoying process to do my check in with Burmese airline...which ended up costing me $5 for two photo copies of my return flight!!!

And so I am sitting in the boarding room, eating for my flight to board. I try to spot out the other few foreigners, in order to anticipate and see if maybe I find someone to share a cab ride and perhaps a guesthouse room once landed in Yangon. (All the books and forum repeat so often how expensive it has gotten to travel through Burma). The first person I spot is a going girl reading a book. OK, why not.

She seems to have a cold and to be looking for tissues, so I quickly land a hand and give her my pack of tissues. We start chatting.

She is actually american, her and her boyfriend have been living and working in Yangon for a year. She currently works for the International Refugee Center (not totally sure about the acronym IRC). Her name is Karen, she is 24, from Chicago. I ask her for tips and advice in terms of destinations and logistics. Just in case...

We land, and meet up again right in front of the door to exit the airport. I was waiting for her while chatting in Spanish with a local guide. Lol funny moment...

I ask if she wants to share a cab, and she offers to crash at her place. Hell yeah!

It's funny, she reminded me so much of Heather, Jonathan's wife, back in Toronto.

And so we spent te whole ride chatting about NGOs and the industry. Exciting!

They live in an area (Tamwe) where only locals live, a bit remote from the downtown core where all foreigners hang out. So even better...some great local experience, yet with the comforting experience of a foreigner who knows the city. My luck!!!

I spent my first two days and two nights at Karen and Marc's place.

One of the main signs proving that Yangon, despite its fast pace of development, is still quite a preserved and authentic not a on touristy place is the fact that I barely saw any foreigners (maybe 8 max in a 4 hour span) on the site of the main tourist attraction of he city as well as the most important religious site of the whole country. Further to that, in two days of walking just about all over te city, I have only seen two small tourist offices. Which is just unbelievable! In Ubud, Bali, you see more tourist offices than places to buy a bottle of water.

Oh, and for the first time ever in my traveler's life, no one, but really no one in the streets, speaks a word of English.

It really shows that Yangon is still very far from being a tourist oriented city. Fantastic! I arrives at the right time! Yay!!!

Funny though, because on the cover of one of the local English magazines it says "tourists are coming, get ready!".

The street food in Yangon is simply amazing. A mix of Indian, Chinese, Thai, Indonesian, and culinary creativity. Never mind Bangkok or Kuala Lumpur, just check out Yangon!

Burma has a strong tea culture. Very much like Morocco or Paris with their coffee culture, more so for men, on both cases. The funny thing though is that al the common tea houses have low plastic chairs and tables, kind of like the ones kids use in the west because they are at the right height for children. The teas served, with different degrees of sweetness, are delicious. A mix between the Indonesian and Indian teas.

One of the most positively shocking observation thus far, and especially compared to Indonesia, is that here no one smokes. Seriously, in two days I have not seen more than a dozen people with a cigarette. The might be due to cost, (not sure yet if Burma produces tobacco), and the fact that every male chews on bethel nut. Or simply perhaps Buddhism says something against tobacco. Some more research awaits me I suppose...

I was also shocked to observe that here, contrary to Indonesia, bethel nut is only chewed by men. While in Indonesia, it was 100% a women's affaire where each woman, especially in the villages, would have a little velvet purse containing all the equipment to arm a complete dose of bethel nut to masticate, here, it is sold, ready to chew, pretty much at every street corner. And men of all ages consume it on a permanent basis. Such a strange contrast...

One of the most beautiful sights when walking around in the morning is the groups of girl monks, all dressed in light pink, and carrying traditional umbrellas, going around the neighborhoods collecting food and money. All with shaved heads, and are usually very very young, between 7 and 15 years old!

Throughout the whole day you can see flocks of monks, male and female, but never male and female together, hovering the city its different neighborhoods, to collect food and money from people and businesses. It is so strange because the more I observe this daily practice and the more I get the feeling that becoming a monk is not a spiritual choice but rather an easy and finance free solution to live for people with financial challenges. Furthermore, my naive and relatively poor exposure and education about Buddhist monks thus far handled me to strongly believe that monks were receiving a superior education on top of their high spirituality, and that all strived to interact as much as possibly with foreigners in order to further that education. Well, I now realize I was totally wrong. I asked so many monks today for simp,e direction in order to try and kick start a conversation or at least some sort of social interaction, and none, absolutely none tried to make an effort to help or communicate. So disappointing...but I will persist...28 days in this country to learn more. :-)

So far Burmese people appear to be quite full of beauty. Both men and women exude not only physically but also personality wise, something I did not observe in either Indonesia, Malaysia, and Thailand. Furthermore, everyone initially looks at you in a strange way, worth a serious and suspicious face (a bit normal given the extremely low quantity of foreigners around), but as soon as you smile at them, their fave lights up and they smile back.

Dis you know that there is a motorcycle ban in the city of Yangon? It is apparently due to the fact that years back, the relative of a high official died in a moto accident. So since then, motos have been banned in the city. This leads to a high flow of bicycle throughout the city.

Another 'fun' fact is that cars in Burma drive on the right side of the road...despite the fact that a good 95% of all cars have the steering wheel on the right side of the car. Burmese used to drive on the left side of the road during British occupation, but one day, the opposing government decided, over night, to switch from left to eight, just to make a statement and symbolically part from the British. Since then, local car dealerships have not really updated their stock I suppose. And neither have the bus dealerships, which, as a consequence, and to prevent from accident, leads buses to need one of the two driving crew to peak through the windows to alert other cars that the bus is turning to the left.

The traffic in Yangon is just insane! I thought I had seen the worst between Sao Paolo and Bangkok, but Yangon reaches a whole different level. At least with the rarity of traffic light, the total absence of police officers, and the partial presence of street light at night, it create an atmosphere of stillness. Walking tends to be faster than taking a car. However the heat is so disgustingly unbearable that taking a seems yet the better option.

The public transportation is amazing here. Options are train (very slow, unreliable, and only looping around the city), trishaw (an old style bicycle with a side seat), standard sort of modern buses, very old fashioned buses all made of wood inside, pick up trucks arranged with seats on the sides in the back, and huge cargo trucks, arrange the same way as the pick up trucks. And classic taxis. The biggest challenge making it almost impossible when away from the main axis is that both numbers and destinations are written in Burmese, which even for the number has nothing to do with our usual Arabic numbers, and scripts. So taxis, trishaws, and your legs are usually the best options based on your budget. :-)

Another fun strange fact is that until a year or so ago, if you wanted to buy a SIM card for your phone, it would cost you around $USD2,000! Today it still cost a few hundred US dollars!...yet, all the locals have a cell phone, and most even have a smart phone. Yet another thing I need to research and better understand.

The more pagodas/temples I see, and the more I realize how much gold, literally, tons of gold donated in each temple, when the country's majority of the population is extremely poor. I just don't get it. How can faith be so blind that it makes you put your entire life, hopes, and money in the hands of something so virtual and abstract as religion?! Life is not fair, and your destiny doesn't depend on god's will but on your own. So move your ass and stop waiting and praying. Just get moving and doing. Plus, with all the money that temples get I do far haven't seen a single monk actually do something for the community, I am so confused...

OK, let's end this post on my favorite fun stuff about Yangon: the "buzzer" system at apartment buildings. Very very archaic yet ingenious and efficient: a long string tied to your balcony or window with a little bell at your apartment level, and a hook or bucket at the street level, with the number of your apartment on it. (Most buildings have only one apartment per floor). I love it!

OK...Mandalay is for the next post...but I should warn you that Karen told me that Yangon is just the beginning...every next destination will be better than the previous one...and well...after a whole day in Mandalay, she was sooooo right!!!
(Though I started this post in the bus in Yangon, I am finishing it in the lobby of the hotel I am staying at in Mandalay).

Good night!

Pit stop in Thailand before Burma...

So I had 5 days to kill in Thailand right before flying to Burma. I had to book my flights before even having my visas secured, just to secure decent prices...

Anyhow, so I figured I would change scenery and not stay in bkk, but rather head north to Chiang May.

My bus arrived in Chiang may, from bkk, at 1:30am. The bus terminal is about 6km away from the city. I had no map, and had not even looked up a single info about the city before coming. So pretty much, I landed 'blind'. Uffff!!!!! After 11 hours of bus, I needed a stretch anyway, so I walked all the way to the city...well...the city very much asleep. Wow! How the hell was I going to find a place to sleep!?

After walking an hour to the city and then another half hour randomly trying to find light and people to ask direction, i bump into this foreigner who is on a scooter. Her must surely know his way around, being out so late and on a scooter, so I ask him...he gives me direction...and I go on...walking....

10 minutes later, he shows up from nowhere. Tells me to jump on, he will help me out and take me to a few places. Grrrreat!

We drove around for one hour before finding a place. Uffff! Thank you so much! His name is Scott, he actually is a cop from California, on vacation. His 4 th time in Thailand this year!!! Lol I guess the cops in the US might just have as good a social benefit package as the cops in france...

The next day...

Janice had told me in Jakarta about a great NGO (Warm Heart Children Homes) founded by two of her former MBA teachers, so I wanted to check them out and learn more about their story.

After a few emails I was finally able to connect with them and arrange for a meet up. Plan was, two days and one night to hang out with Evelind, who is the co-founder and Treasurer of Warm Heart (Michael, her husband is currently fundraising in the US), to chat extensively about their project.

Ha! When I got there, at night, didn't get to see much other than the few little kids who were still up. So I went to sleep.
The next day, at breakfast, I started chatting with the volunteers onsite who were helping out with different initiatives. I clicked right away with Ben, who is a well traveled and volunteered British guy my age, and who is helping the put some order and manage the center for a few months; and Joseph and Rebecca, who founded Goodwill Globe trotting, and are volunteering to build up an outdoor playground/gym/fitness/muay Thai area for the older kids.

Well, between goodwill globetrotting and warm heart, I managed to meet on the same day, two initiatives which pretty much make up the core of what my long term dreams have been for a long time.

Warm heart basically houses 40 kids from hill tribes families who cannot really provide a positive and educated environment for their kids, and try their best at mentoring the kids throughout their middle and highschool, to help them get access to better opportunities than working the farms like their parents. They also include a micro enterprise component by helping artisans perfect their art and then promote and export it to potential mass buyers. And they are currently also trying to develop a geriatric support and therapy initiative. In other words, they are all over the place.

Goodwill globetrotting, well, they are two young Texans my age, who are passionate about a traveling the world and helping people. They have traveled a lot but got bored to travel without a real purpose. So they do all they can to go back home for 6 to 9 months to make some money, fill up their savings via small jobs, as well as fund raising initiatives, and then travel for a while and consult on various development projects around the world. On top of that, they have created a support network for NGOs to help them with on demand needs of resources and volunteers.

I don't think I am actually doing either project justice with my simple descriptions, but please visit their websites and get inspired like I did:

http://warmheartworldwide.org

http://www.goodwillglobetrotting.org

So I actually ended up not doing much chatting with Evelind, but rather mostly physical work with the volunteers to help move as forward as possible with the build up of the playground.
Wow! I never thought that all these years of living on a construction site in Morocco would ever pay off. Lol. But it did.
I absolutely loved working with them on this common objective and learnt so much in the process about the two NGOs. Fascinating!
I ended up spending two nights there. I didn't want to leave any more. If it wasn't for Burma and the plane tickets I bought, I would still be there and help finishing up the playground.

Anyhow...I am now back to the bus terminal...my bus back to bkk is at 11pm...and another 10 hour bus ride.

Funny little story before posting and running to catch my bus:
I have a few more Thai bahts left in my pocket, so i decide to go for a foot massage. Yay!!!!!

I walk into this super sketchy hotel lobby (remember, I am outside the city, at a late night bus terminal). I ask for a massage. The front desk kid gives me a room key and tells me to just walk up....hmmmmm...OK. I do.
There, a very plumpy lady welcomes me. Aiiii...scary. A mattress on the floor...she says 'Thai massage?'. I say 'no'. I don't want someone to twist me like a rubber band. I want a deep tissue massage. So I tell her I want a foot massage. Okidoki...we walk down to the mezzanine right above the front desk. I seat down a plastic chair. And she starts. Eh, boring....barely pressing on the muscles. Hmmm...I tell her to go deeper once....and again, to light...hmmm...I tell her again.-.then walk down two other women, including a much older one. So she asks for help.

I knew that such context would have to lead to some unique and entertaining situation. Hahaha!
All of an sudden, all three women are leaning on my feet and massaging them. Hilarious. Almost as if the older woman was giving a class to then other younger ones. And it goes on for an hour. A six hand foot massage. Hahahaha!

So funny!

OK...gotta run!!!!!

Bonne nuit!

See you in Burma...or not. ;0)