Myanmar

Myanmar Vol 4: Bago and Yangon (again) /  by Brandon Cohen

Bago

Now for one of the more outlandish stories I have. I’m telling this over a year late though so apologies. Traveling took a lot out of me and it was incredibly hard to keep up my writing.

I arrived by bus. One that had several stops and was an incredibly hard thing to manage with the language barrier. When I asked the taxi drivers there where Bago was, they said an hour away. I did it anyway. We got lost. Repeatedly. I yelled at the taxi driver as he asked for directions. At the end I realized I didn’t have much cash on hand left, although certainly enough to have survived. I argued for a bit then finally made it to the hotel. They had to call in a translator who I’m sure ran a local taxi syndicate and may have been part of the mob. Either way he was immensely helpful. I ate at two little cafes that the man recommended (I wonder if he owns them or gets a cut?)

I’m not sure what type of city this is. It clearly isn’t a tourist location. It feels like an industrial and poor city but definitely cleaner than Yangon, kind of like a run down and much smaller long beach neighborhood.

Why visit? Well I’d love to say just to experience real local life, which is partly true. However, this is acting as my stopping point to see Mawlamyine Rock. A giant boulder nearly on the edge of a precipice covered in gold after years of donations. It is at the giant Kyaiktiyo Pagoda which is at the top of a mountain. The climb is so steep and treacherous; you must take a giant truck up with several other passengers. It was misty and visibility was as clear as a glass of milk. The fog was thick as we crept further up the mountain. They let us out and we entered a road of stores which I bypassed. Young and old construction workers walked past carrying steel beams to and fro, also barefoot, up the stairs and down the white tile. I can only imagine that on a sunny day the tiles glimmer like a gift from the Buddha.

The decor at the temple is unimpressive yet the size and remoteness is amplified in the veil of shadows, pardon my D&D reference – I just finished watching Stranger Things.

After my time I came down, with the help of a Japanese man I met who paid my fare down since I didn’t have any left on me. It literally cost like 10 cents…smh.

My driver had waited for a few hours and was ready to drop me off.

Let me tell you this part of the story. Before I left the mob guy picked me up and brought me to one of his driver, a “safe driver”, he was. He stayed within the speed limit, and used an elaborate set of signal, light, horn combinations with oncoming traffic to navigate passing on the narrow highways in the rain. He would be very good at video games if he was a youth in a first world country, alas he was roughly 40 and spoke no English, so I couldn’t get his take on things.

I paid $75 for most of his day, to pick me up, drive me to the rock, wait, and drive me back. Don’t think I wasn’t afraid that he’d leave. However, the locals seem to be very trustworthy when you are engaged with them legitimately.

After returning I went to dinner, watched some shitty TV, and went to bed. I left for Yangon the next day. I arrived at the train station early and had time to browse around a market. I’m tempted to say “farmer’s market” but everything is that style in asia.

The train station was run down, and I bought a ticket out of the office from a guy counting cash. They sold me a luxury ticket for a few bucks. While I waited I was surrounded by what appeared to be many homeless people and starving dogs. I met a little kid who had bought a baby chick and had it kept in a plastic bag. I was unsure if it was a pet or he would raise it to be dinner. I assumed both.

The trains were old. Remains of the British infrastructure. Long due for repairs. Apparently it is not uncommon for them to derail and for you to wait until they are fixed. Happily this did not happen, and I received a nice, bumpy ride through the countryside, with stunning nature and village watching opportunities on the way back to Yangon.

I waited for Kamran to return from the vet so I went to a professional soccer game. They let me bring my whole bag in and it cost me nearly nothing. Figures, the game was high school caliber, but the stadium was pretty decently sized. Maybe they get bigger crowds for different events or teams.

Kamran and I got dinner and went to get a foot massage, a thing you don’t tell your neighbors, too risqué. It was great, they also massage your legs, back, neck and give you hot tea. I also went the next morning for lack of something to do before my flight home. I was literally walking around with angelic feet in shit covered shoes. A perfect dichotomy for me to leave with.

Myanmar Vol. 3: Bagan /  by Brandon Cohen

This is what I feared. As the trip drew down and I grew tired I would fail to write down my thoughts. Here I am nearly two months out and I am going to put down the remainder of my trip down by memory. Some chronology and detail will likely be lost but I suppose that s not what keeps you reading or me writing. It’s the stories that matter and the experiences I have. I will admit my descriptions have faltered and my writing has suffered for it. IT takes a lot out of me to recount all of the details. Whether this is an issue of interest after having partaken or just a hatred of typing I don’t know. Would this be easier to dictate via dragon? Would my tales be more elaborate or lucid? Am I just deceiving myself?

Bagan

Bagan is a large plain of dry clay and trees. Flying in I crossed over farmland and watched as it dried up and became the hosting land for thousands of temples.

My time in Bagan was short but eventful. I could wax poetic about the beauty and history of the temples and expansive views but I would not do them justice, nor would I compete with people who have come before me and actually know how to write.

Instead I will touch on a few personal stories that I found to be memorable and leave the recommendation to visit if you have the opportunity. It is an incredible place that, despite hawkers and awful salesman, is a beautiful landscape and fun place to ride around on your e-bike (a must rent)

1. Be Kind To Animals The Moon is a vegan restaurant in Bagan. It is delicious and arguably the only famous place there. So much so there is a copycat restaurant with almost the same name across the street. I met some people from my hostel there and got in the group there. After some additional temple explorations, we went back to the hostel, Ostello Bello. It was decided that we all wanted to do a sunset temple climb. So we rolled out in a group of 20 electric bike riding backpackers. We all pulled into the vegan restaurant parking lot like Hell’s angels to a biker bar we got the back patio and made every Berkley hipster’s dream come true.

2. At both morning and night a group of us from the hostel quested for sunrises and sunsets, although there was no thought of Fiddler at the time. It wasn’t ideal, the sun always hiding behind the clouds. Of course. Nonetheless, the smoky pale sky lightly caressing the temples with light was still quite a sight to be seen. It’s hard to understand how beautiful abandoned structures can be when millennia apart but lit by the same sun and under the same stars as always.

3. Locals on vacation flocked Karen, a tall German girl, and I while climbing through the ruins. Our best guess was that they were from rural Myanmar and had little to no experience with white people. They insisted that we took individual pictures with all of them as well as a group photo.

4. One of my hostel companions' e-bike popped a tire. An hour or so after calling for help, the 10 year old pit crew had arrived to change out the tire

Myanmar Vol. 2: Inle Lake /  by Brandon Cohen

Inle Lake - Day 1 & 2

After landing I decided to split a cab with a scot and two Thai ladies (who were extremely talkative and hoped I knew Depak Chopra). The ladies had just attended a spiritual seminar and were all about self help and had a great mindset, despite being a little over the edge.  The scot was softer spoken but was well traveled and was a teacher by trade.

Once we arrived at our respective hotels we would not see each other again.

I arrived and walked around a bit to find a place to grab dinner. About midway through my most delicious meal thus far (some fried noodle dish) I realized I was getting sick. The rest of the night would be vomiting and diarrhea. The next day I tried meeting up with the boatman I had planned to take me out on the lake for sunrise, but I was still sick and had to return to bed. After more hours of sleep I managed to get a massage and see a puppet show, traditional but not very entertaining.

Inle - Day 3

Finally, the boat ride, what I had been waiting to do. We traversed the murky lake to several, touristy locations that I learned kick back money to drivers when they make purchases. Due to the hype and trash it was not as beautiful as I had hoped, however, it had an aura about it that helped me understand the country a little more.

I was taken to a sugar cane candy making “factory” in somebody’s hut when my driver went to drop off some money with his family. The other stops I was taken to was a place to see “long necked women”, a lotus/weaving hut, and cigar and silver making. I met a cool german guy named Julian who is on vacation before returning to a new consulting gig. His girlfriend works at SAP and recommends it, his gf works there.

I returned from a long, hot day on the water and went to cooking class with Leslie, Kamran’s friend from when he lived in the Inle area.

The class took me through a few classic dishes but I was unable to eat much because my stomach was still fragile.

Inle Day 4

I rode a rented bike around the lake via a small village and a boat ride across to another larger village. Then I went to a winery that had terrible rain and held me captive in a rainstorm, but had a breathtaking view of the lake and the greenery surrounding it. I rode around with an South American woman I met on the road. At least she provided some much needed company.

The rain subsided and we hitched a ride with some Scandinavian travelers who were riding in the back of a truck back to their hostel. Saved us a bike ride in the rain. Then we grabbed lunch at a Nepalese restaurant and parted ways. Her to wherever and me to the airport.

Myanmar Vol. 1: Yangon /  by Brandon Cohen

Yesterday I arrived in Yangon and was very overwhelmed. Yangon is a unique place. There are many government buildings with small carts of food all around. It’s hard to focus my thoughts… I ate dinner with Kamran at a Muslim restaurant, we drank beers next-door b/c the owners don’t drink or allow it at their restaurant. I’m told there is a genocide towards Muslims here in the north, tragic. We had a delicious mutton w/ flat bread, which was fantastic. It is eaten with onions and tomatoes. After the meal we bought a few drinks and went to Kamran’s place.

He lives in what appear by US standards to be a slum but is nice over here.

The next day I strolled around the city and met a guide in the park. I told him my plan and he accompanied me. I took the ferry across to dalaw. Once across the river, the vibe changes to rural very quickly. There are many bamboo huts and I learned people outside of the city can pay rent levels of around 50 USD per month.  Before I went out to Dalaw, I sought out a teashop, which was easy to find. I was surrounded by folks who smiled and talked. (not to me) Many of the clientele were young, playing clash of clans on their phones. Several ordered breakfast; I think it wasmohinga, noodles with fish, kind of tasted like eggrolls. So delicious. I ordered it by asking this kid to bring me some, mostly by pointing.

To return to where I was, I headed to Sula pagoda, walked around and then to independence square where I found my guide., He spoke English fairly well. The ticket across the ferry was bought in a backroom by people counting stacks of money. The ferry itself was packed. Hordes of people swarm the gangplank to get on. On the short 5-minute ride, I lose my hearing in a loud hectic environment. Vendors walk the aisles selling quail eggs and toys for children.

I hired a motor bike driver to take me to the snake pagoda. It is a long drive through the “city” and miles of rice paddies. The three of us on a motorbike, whizzed through the countryside, drawing the eye of locals who don’t see white tourists that often…apparently not one other traveler I spoke to had ventured to the other side of the river.

My intention was to go to the snake pagoda, it was not that impressive. However, there are pythons just lounging around the pagoda. On the way back, a storm rolled in, (it is monsoon season after all)[1]. We raced the storm to the coast, but as we were apprehended and the rain grew heavier, we had to stop and pulled off to a rain shelter on the side of the road. While we waited, an old woman showered next to us and lathered up around her clothes. It was an interesting site, but a good way to not waste water.

The rain subsided and we made it to our next stop (caused by, you guessed it, more heavy rain). A large teashop, where unemployed and drivers (not working due to rain and low tourist activity) gathered to watch movies. After a short break, we crossed back to Yangon. The streets were flooded, I found out it was mostly overflowed sewage. Glad I found that out AFTER I had trudged through knee deep for a mile. The infrastructure is very weak here. This city is intriguing and busy; it’s hard to see what people actually do as a daily routine and how people hold up here. The wealth disparity is huge. I haven’t seen many rich folk yet, mostly poor. But you can see the nice houses and government employee housing and compounds, which are vastly superior to the cramped living of the rest of the city.

Addendum:

My last night in Yangon I went to Shwedagon Pagoda, a massive gold spire in the middle of the city. Truthfully, I did not see too much of it in detail because a monk came to speak to Kamran, and me, who, fresh off a meal, was taken off guard.  This is not something that typically happens, so as the rain fell softly, this monk took us around the pagoda, telling us facts in broken English. He made references to U Wirathu, “the face of Buddhist terror”. Kamran says he likely supports the current genocide (if that’s the right term) in Northern Myanmar. After adding us on Facebook, (weird I know) , we were free to go. Then we went back to Kamran’s house and spent some time with Emily, walked the dog, a larger adventure than expected. We warded off packs of wild dogs and tried to keep Kamran’s formerly wild dog, Rambo, safe. The next day, I spent looking for travel agencies to buy a flight to Bagan. I had to “hot route” to Inle Lake because of late planning. Lesson learned.

[1] Subsequent to my return, there are massive floods and deaths all over the country. It is considered a large disaster and state of emergency. I got out well, I hope everyone I met is ok.