Mrauk Ou and Surrounds

Mrauk Ou in the Rakhine State is sometimes referred to as Little Bagan because they also boasts lots and lots of old temples. Unlike Bagan this area has not been designated an national, archeological site so the villagers still live in and amongst the ruins. Cows mingle with Buddhas. And temples sit next to farms. We only visited the four major temples. One is the temple of 80,000 Buddha images. And another is the temple of 90,000 Buddha images which was built by the son of the king that built the 80K version. As the story goes, when it was completed the 90K temple was immediately struck by lightning presumably as a sign from the unhappy and upstaged dead father’s spirit.

Yesterday we followed our 4.5 hour ride in the African Queen with a 4 hour round trip ride in a smaller, even less comfortable version of a boat in the light drizzle/rain in order to head further up river to see the Chin villages. I neglected to mention that getting on and off boats here always entails at least one walking of a plank with or without the meager reassurance one gets from a piece of bamboo held between two very small Burmese guys and offered as a makeshift and temporary handrail. I am pretty sure that if I started to fall they could not hold me up with it let alone hold Michael up. Then we often had to walk across two or three other boats, up and down and across, to get o ours. And all of this after descending some decidedly rickety staircases with steps made of 2 x 4s (just single 2 x 4s). (Here's Michael coming down one...fearless in his "Honey Badger Don't Care" t-shirt)

Anyway, back to the Chin people. Back in the day, Chin girls’ entire faces were tattooed when they were only about 9 years old. As with most such traditions, the reason was presumably to make them unattractive to the advances of the neighboring kings and countrymen (in this case the Rakhine). This practice was, however, outlawed in the 60’s (why this but not the placement of the brass neck rings in the Padaung, I don’t know) so only the older women have the tattoos.  

Other than the temples and the Chin, there is not much in Mrauk-Ou. It is an extremely poor area in a country full of poor areas. People without running water who have to carry water home from filthy rivers and fetid ponds

 amid mounds of trash because they have no sanitation or garbage disposal. It is supremely sad. They are not set up to provide tourist services but need tourism badly.

Currently they only have 4-5,000 visitors a year. This is apparent in the fact that here (as in Keong Tong out far to the east) people asked to take OUR pictures because we were the odd ones. From the little children who pointed and giggled and peaked around corners to see us to this Chin woman who insisted that Michael include me in the photograph with her.

Now we are back in 'civilization' again. It's funny, but now at this end of the trip Yangon feels like Buddhist Nirvana. We leave tomorrow for Chiang Mai. Meanwhile Myanmar continues to gear up for the elections next week. Now that we know these warm and welcoming people, we can only hope that they will soon be on the path to a better future.

 

 

Kaladan River

But now we are in Mrauk Ou having come up river on (keeping with our movie
references) the 'African Queen' for a four hour trip. Once we got out of the
'city', things got prettier so here are a couple shots of local farmers.

Room with a View

And I couldn’t help but take a picture of the view out of this Sittwe hotel window as a comparison to the padoga view room outside in Yangon:

Let me help you out here coz I realize it’s not very clear but all of those long, triangular shaped ‘pods’ hanging down from the branches are not pods. They are fruit bats. Big, honking fruit bats. Had I read the guidebook about this particular town, I would have noticed the suggestion to go to the roof of our hotel to watch the fruit bats take off every night from the trees across the street! And how lucky were we that after our trip to the black/brown sand beach for sunset, they were all taking off just as we were getting out of the car on the very inconvenient OPPOSITE side of the street. It was Alfred Hitchcock’s The Birds, for heaven’s sake. We had to stand right under them all taking off waiting for an opportunity to get across the stupid street! And then my alarm clock this morning was the sound of them all coming back around 6AM.

 

The Beach in SIttwe

Anyway, suffice it to say that Sittwe was most decidedly NOT a high point of
our trip so far. But the beach did offer these interesting rock formations.
They are not vertical walls, but rather horizontal formations on the ground.
And some very artistic crabs created these beautiful sand sculptures.

Sittwe in pieces

I have to use email to post here so this will have to come in bits.

My apologies.

 

Wednesday was a travel day: Yangon to Sittwe. At first we were surprised that there were actually a fair number of tourists on the plane with us…Sittwe not being on the usual tour route. But then we found out that the plane was stopping in Thandwe at the beach. Ah ha. That’s where they all got off. By the time we got to Sittwe there were just 7 of us.

Our guide took us directly to our hotel. First let me say that as a room goes, it was not the absolute worst place I have ever stayed (Having stayed in some similar establishments in Ethiopia and even Chile). However, when this sign is hanging on your bathroom wall, well, I think it gives you an idea of the general environment:

 

 

Bagan and On

First, about the balloon ride. Quite an experience. 17 or so massive balloons (I didn’t realize that they fit 16 passengers!) lined up on the ground all being inflated at the same time. Up in the air, it’s extremely quiet except when the burners are on. And very smooth floating. The view was phenomenal from an altitude varying from a couple of hundred feet to 2000 feet. Just towards the end of the ride the winds dropped and changed direction and we (and 3 other balloons) found ourselves way far south of all of the other balloons and the planned landing site. So our pilot had to find an alternative. He was going to land on the one road in the area but that didn’t turn out. So we ended up touching down in a dry creek bed next to some farmers working in their fields. Then it really got interesting.

Our landing crew was nowhere near us. But the poor guys ran, on foot, through the fields, all the way from where we were supposed to be to where we were. While they called the trucks to come get us, they had to move the balloon a little ways by hand with us all still in it. Then we got out and waited as they deflated the balloon. Meanwhile, there is apparently no escaping the local vendors. They were on us like white on rice - also running through the fields to our unintended location and setting up their wares on the ground around us as soon as we turned around! Oh and the conversation on the ground led to mention of being veterinarians. One of the other passengers was a young, female, equine veterinarian from Mexico City. Yes, we've been to Mexico City. In fact we were there after a veterinary conference in Leon. You know it? Yes, were you exhibiting? No, my husband was speaking there? Really, what is his name? Mike Paul. Really? THE Mike Paul. Can I get a picture with him to show my friends I met him? Sure. (And thus ends our requisite 'It's a small world after all' installment of our blog.)

Anyway, after much delay we found our way to an old truck, piled into the back, rode to the bus, rode to another bus, and finally got back to our hotel. So we were running a bit late on our last day in Bagan. That didn’t stop our guide from insisting that we visit the local village where a very sweet young girl gave us the tour. But I have now seen more hand weaving looms than you could shake a shuttlecock at! There was a rare, 92 year old grandmother smoking her big fat cheroot and spinning cotton, though. Over and over and over again we declined offers to purchase longyi, picture frames, pretty much every but refrigerator magnets BUT Michael asked for a wooden spoon. As luck would have it, their rice-stirring wooden spoon has become obsolete/unnecessary since they finally received electricity two months ago. So we scored a second spoon from grandma. Woo Hoo.

We enjoyed one more Bagan sunset and near full moon rise from the top of a pagoda.

 

Then we were on our way back to Yangon and off to the beginning of the full moon festival at the Shwedagon Pagoda. Absolutely stunning. First just seeing the pagoda lit up at night. But secondly to get to see the entire thing surrounded by thousands of candles and traditional oil lamps. Unfortunately, the pagoda itself is so large that it defies photography. Then you add in the crowds, the sounds of bells ringing and voices reciting the teachings of Buddha, and the smells of food cooking and and incense burning and there is just no way to truly capture the entire experience.

 

 

Then back in our hotel  with the requested pagoda view room with the pagoda all lit up all night long and visible from the bed. Didn't need a night light! Very, very cool.

 

And more Bagan

I could spend an entire week here...lucky for you I am not

 

If a picture paints a thousand words

Just say "Bagan" and start loading images

 

Mandalay

So, I have to say that Mandalay was a bit of a low point so far. In all fairness, I would have cut it out of the proposed trip in the first place if not for the teak bridge (to follow).....but it's part of the standard trip so there we were. Also in all fairness, Michael was extremely ill so in retrospect it was perfect timing (if there can be such a thing when you are feverish, achy, and disoriented in a foreign country and not - if I may be indelicate - with your standard traveler's gi upset but with something completely, well, foreign).

So sick was he that for the first time in 25 years of traveling to far off places I called the US Consulate in Yangon for advice as to what to do should I have to take him to the doctor. The nice woman with the inexplicably British accent's words of wisdom: Get him to Bangkok or Singapore. And while I know that on his visit last year to Singapore Michael was somewhat intrigued by an establishment called, "Four Floors of Whores", I was still not eager to have to get him there in a crisis.

So, after as many drugs as we could throw at him (and ultimately thinking to stop the malarone anti-malarial drug that we have never taken before) and the tincture of time in not so lovely Mandalay he is improving. This is good because next on the docket is a balloon ride over Bagan and that did not sound like a good plan for someone who could barely move and could not weave a clear thought together.

Meanwhile, we spent a good deal of time resting in our room in the Hotel Amazing Mandalay (which was not as charming as even the Best Marigold Hotel) but which did provide respite and healing. We saw a wood carving studio and a gold leaf studio. The latter would have you believe that all of the billions of dollars worth of gold leaf used in this country is still pounded by fit Burmese men with sledge hammers. I am skeptical by nature so I'll withhold judgment on that one. (Read: I simply don't believe it.) We also took a nice little boat ride on the Ayeyarwady River to a huge unfinished pagoda. And of course we went at sunset to see the U Bein Bridge, the longest and oldest teak bridge in the world.

Pretty bridge.

Pretty bridge.

But that was the extent of our 1-1/2 days in Myanmar.

We are already in Bagan now taking our afternoon break. Michael is feeling better. And without giving away too much of a spoiler just let me say AWESOME!
 

Floating farms and Fishermen

OK one last Inle Lake blog.  There are two really famous things about the lake:

THE FLOATING GARDEN Some 25% or so of the lake is comprised of these gardens. I assumed at first that they were hydroponic. But they are not. Here’s what they do.

First they cut out large swatches of water hibiscus to form the basis of the raft and stake them in place on the water with long bamboo poles. Then they collect mud from the bottom of the lake and pile that one. They throw in a bunch of seaweed for fertilizer and they tend these massive rafts for something like 6 years to maturity. Then they plant them with tomatoes. Every year when the water is low the rafts try to root to the bottom of the lake, so they have to cut them free again so they can float. Pretty nifty.

THE FISHERMEN What with those little, low boats that already require a phenomenal feat of balance then you add in the tendency of these guys to row their boats with their legs and it gets pretty impressive. There are two kinds of fishing in the island. One is individually where they use these cages, which they drop into the water wherever they see bubbles. They use a trident like spear in the center to scare the fish out to the outside perimeter into the netting, they drop the net and haul up their catch. This particular guy was hamming it up for the camera but you can still get the drift.

 

Then there’s the group, larger net fishing. They guys lay down a huge net by rowing with their legs and using both hands to lay down or gather up the net.

And now good-bye Inle Lake.

Next: the Road to Mandalay.

 

Pagodas and Processions

Our other big stop in Inle was the Phaung Daw Oo Paya. Yup, another pagoda. Getting kind of pagoda’d and monastery’d out already. But this was the biggest, most important one in the Shan State. Five ancient and revered Buddha statues live here. But you would never, ever know that is what they were. You see, there is a tradition here in Myanmar (at least I think it is only here because in my limited travels I have never seen it happen anywhere else) where one of your options for doing good deeds as a Buddhist is to buy little pieces of gold leaf and then you apply them to a Buddha. Over and over and over again, person after person, day after day, year after year and eventually you end up with an amorphous blob of gold with a Buddha buried somewhere deep inside.

 

(in full disclosure this is not my picture because all the buddhas were not at home)

What was especially important about this pagoda and these Buddhas is that we unintentionally found ourselves right in the middle of the Phaung Daw Oo Paya Festival where for 18 days four of the five buddhas travel by boat all around the lake to all of the different villages to return home in time for the Thadingyut. That is the Festival of Lights for New Year that celebrates Buddha’s return from the celestial sphere.  All five of the buddhas used to make the trip but one year the barge sunk and they could only recover 4 of them from the bottom of the lake. The fifth one miraculously found its way back to the Pagoda on its own so it gets to stay there all the time now.

Anyway, on our way north out of the lake the day of our departure we were fortunate enough to pass the procession coming south … three lead boats decorated with parasols towing the royal barge carrying the Buddhas as people lined up on the shores to pay homage. Pretty lucky, that.

 

We aren’t sure what we will see for the actual Festival of Lights. The full moon occurs on the night of 27^th when we are back in Yangon. So we upgraded our hotel room to a Shwedagon Pagoda view room for that night in anticipation of some festivities. It appears, however, that the biggest celebration is on the full moon DAY which rumor has it (and the Burmese people should know) is the 28^th. That day we fly to Sittwe which - again I am told – is predominantly Christian so the Light Festival will not be such a big deal there. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, let me just make a quick, personal observation of how Buddhism promotes Capitalism. It is mind-boggling all the stuff followers have to buy to comply with their responsibilities. From the food offerings, the special coconuts and bananas, the flags, the alms for the monks, the donations for the temple renovations and maintenance and the gold leaf to say the least. I’m not even figuring in the trips to the astrologer to help you name your baby (oh, oh, there are no surnames here, btw) or pick your spouse, etc. And I am sure that is just the tip of the iceberg. However, at least this is capitalism for the masses because all of the vendors and manufacturers and providers are making money off of the industry. Who knows what would happen to the economy without that.

 

Inle Market

First on the docket today was another market. This one was huge. The biggest on the lake and clearly set up for tourists. After jockeying with other boats to unload at the dock, we had to walk the lengthy gauntlet of tacky souvenir shops leading into the market. In fact, the majority of the first part of the market was also tourist crap. It wasn’t until we got well into the maze that the local people’s food stands and booths became apparent. There were tons of locals eating in the stalls, and our guide explained that this was a meeting place…like the Starbucks of Myanmar….where you would arrange to catch up with friends and family and business associates. I am full of questions when I travel so I inquired as to why the one big booth just had a few people sitting in it and a couple bottles of oil. Had they already sold out of their goods? Nope, they were the money lenders there to collect payments from their debtors. So there you go….whether in Anguilla or Inle Lake, Myanmar, the biggest real estate houses the banks.

Otherwise, mostly normal fare except for the massive numbers of stalls selling rice crackers of all sizes. It turns out that on our way to the lake I had seen panels lined up outside some of the houses covered with big white disks. I specifically took the picture so I could ask what they were.

 And here they were  – the larger rice crackers that fry up like papadums. They sell them in skewered sets of 10 at the market. 

 But they came in smaller sizes too that are almost paper thin. I noticed the women sorting through piles of seemingly identical disks to pick their purchases. I asked the guide what was the criteria for their close inspection, what were they looking for specifically. The answer? The lightest ones because these ones are sold by weight so by selecting the driest ones they get more for their money understanding that making such a distinction would be like telling by touch which of two dove’s feathers was lighter!

At Inle Lake

Once we actually arrived at the Lake the area certainly became more developed – if you can use the term developed when referring to the a change from sparsely-scattered, tiny houses on stilts to clusters of larger houses on stilts and an increase in motor-driven, little, wooden boats over hand-paddled, little, wooden boats. Also the rice paddies disappeared though there was still a lot of water hyacinth everywhere.

After lunch, we took did some required workshop visits. The blacksmith was pretty standard. The boat makers were kind of apropos. But the weaving workshop was actually impressive. In the first place the silk weaving patterns use patterned thread. I don’t know if that is standard and I’ve just never noticed it before. But somebody creates long lengths of thread that is tied in places (exact places that are someone perfectly marked without the benefit of measuring) and then dyed so that the old 1960’s tie-dyed effect creates the pattern- a completely different pattern, mind you, for every thread in the fabric’s pattern. Then somebody has to weave all those different spools in the exact right order to make it all come out right. No idea how they do that.

But even more interesting was the weaving done with thread made from lotus blossom stalks. I know, who knew? They crack the stalks and as they pull them apart the slimy looking, stringy stuff inside pulls out and gets rolled into thread. Can you see in the second zoomed in image the fibers she's pulling across to her left thumb? 

Over and over and over again the women snaps a handful of stalks (in half, in quarter, etc, etc) rolled each section of fiber into the first to make a long thread. That has to be mixed with rice powder to strengthen it and spun into thread which has to be wet when it is woven so that it maintains its strength and even so has to be worked less aggressively to make the final fabric. Presumably this is only done in the Inle Lake area though without internet, how can I be sure. But I am now the proud owner of a lovely 100% lotus (NOT the lotus/silk combo, thank you) scarf.

At the end of the day, we enjoyed a nice enough sunset.

 

After which the night-feeding mosquitoes came out and that was the end of that.

Pagodas

No idea if posting two photos in an emailed post works so somebody let me know.

Here's the Jetty

 

Cutting through the river rice

 

Inle house out in the rice

 

Beating Laundry w a stick at the waters edge

 

Inle boat

 

Traveling to Inle Lake

Hopefully this is the last time I will have to post photos separately from a blog. So I will keep this one short and only cover the trip up to Inle Lake yesterday and trust that the internet will be better in Mandalay….I mean it should be, right?

Anyway, finally an earlier start! We headed out at 7A for the 1 hour drive down to Phekone to the jetty to catch our boat to take us up the river to Inle Lake. The jetty area itself was somewhat – what is that word we are using these days? – oh yes, rustic. And dirty. Yes, rustic and dirty.

But once we got underway on the river it was stunning. The weather was absolutely perfect. And riding along on narrow pathways through rice paddies on the lake was just breathtaking.

In that southern area power boats were actually rare compared to all the smaller paddle boat versions that the local farmers use to get around. Those are extremely flat and low to the water and the people crouch on the very, very end …it’s amazing.

And they live in tiny, little houses floating above the water.

And along the way we stopped at the Khaung pagoda complex…which was simply stunning in a very Siem Reep, Cambodia sort of way.

 

loikaw pagoda at night