The Land of the White Elephant

And by that I mean Myanmar. Or Burma as our government would like to call it. Incidentally, Thailand also claims this title but as I liked Thailand MUCH less than Myanmar and they have killed off all of the white elephants in their country already, I think Myanmar deserves it (although the country definitely has tons of other issues, including environmental degradation).

Mike and I arrived in the Yangon airport in the early afternoon following a pleasant flight from Bangkok's gigantic duty-free shop/airport (our first flight since we arrived in Beijing more than two months ago!) We quickly headed to a cheap hotel and then went on an expedition to change some money into Myanmar kyats. Myanmar has 0 ATMs, and thus we had to carry all of the money we would need for the next ten days in US dollar format over from Thailand. Most people accept dollars, but as it is often a better deal to pay for things in kyats we decided to change some. The exchange rate at the airport was about 450 to the dollar, but on the black market (read: random people on the street) the rate is anywhere from 1000 to 1150 kyats to the dollar. So we changed some money and continued on our way.

Soon after we started exploring the area nearby our guesthouse a friendly man came up to us inside a temple and began to speak with us. He was learning English in Yangon and after he took us around the temple he proceeded to take us all around the city for the next day and a half, just for the sake of cultural exchange and so he could practice some English while showing us his home. It was one of the best experiences I think both of us have had so far on our trip, and we learned so much about Buddhism in Myanmar and the different areas of the city I probably can't remember it all. We also saw two white elephants that the government had locked up in the "Royal Gardens", one of the reasons for the title of this post. When our friend finally left us a man called out to us from a nearby streetcorner. He said his name was Mr. Toe and that the streetcorner was his office, and after talking to us for a little while he decided to call his friend, a trekking guide in our next destination, to meet us at the bus stop. He vanished soon afterwards, and I could not find him in the area the next day, so we caught our lengthy bus to Kalaw and strapped in for the ride.

Upon our arrival in Kalaw at 4am, just as Mr. Toe had promised we were greeted by the mysterious "Jimmy" on the roadside. He took us to a cheap place to sleep for a few hours and we worked out the details of our trek to Inle Lake, which we soon began in earnest along with a friendly Colombian guy. Our path took us through the town's colorful market, around a military installation along some railroad tracks, and up and over a small mountain (where our "knowledgeable local guide" had to ask several people for directions. After tromping through the mud we eventually got to a small village where we met our "cooking man" as Jimmy called him (I remember getting his actual name at some point but can't quite recall it now). That night we stayed in the home of an extremely friendly and somewhat eccentric local man. Pretty much as soon as we arrived he brought us to a neighbor's house who was busy brewing up some of the local rice whisky and quickly decided to offer us a bottle. And another bottle. And another. And the next morning all I could remember was receiving a big bag of mandarins and hanging out in the local store, playing cards by candlelight. The next day we trekked around a large agricultural area and we felt like Frodo and Sam when they're leaving the Shire in Fellowship. We stayed in a monastery in the foothills the second night and woke up at 5am with the monk and novices chanting in the hall. We made the last stretch to the lake rather quickly and got on a longtail boat to take us back to town, after a couple of interesting detours, one involving cats (I'll let Mike upload the video for you Jason). We said goodbye to our guide and Colombian friend as we caught another bus up to the city of Mandalay.

After a short breakdown lasting a little over an hour, our bus got to Mandalay around 5am (overnight buses in Myanmar aren't very convenient) and we managed to find an open guesthouse to pass out in. We decided to do our part in not giving more money to the government and drove around to the back entrances of historic sites and showing up after hours when the ticket-checkers had gone home for the day. It was a relaxing day overall and we were able to see quite a lot in a short time. The next day we decided to travel around the city with a very interesting trishaw driver we had met the previous evening. He spoke English with a British accent and had very interesting and saddening stories to tell about his experiences with the government and the recent protests led by monks in 2007 (I will let Mike tell his story in fuller detail, I was sitting in the back and unfortunately didn't catch everything he had to say). At Mandalay Hill we climbed up the long series of stairways filled with Buddha images and other religious works to the summit, which had incredible views over the surrounding plain, and ran into our Colombian friend again on the way back down. We also visited a couple more temples before our bus, but the real highlight was spending time with our trishaw driver, who took us to eat a true local meal and told us a lot about his life and the situation in the country in general.

We arrived in the small town of Nyaung Oo in the Bagan plain around midnight and quickly fell asleep. The next day we rented bicycles and cycled around all day, exploring some of the 4400 ancient temples (though many had been badly renovated by the military government) spread throughout the plain. The sheer number of these stupas and temples was astounding, and many of the individual ones could have been major tourist attractions in themselves. Although there were a good number of hawkers about, the majority were very friendly even when we made it clear we weren't going to buy anything, and we even played a game of football with some of them in front of one of the temples. Deciding to avoid the tourist-filled temple that everyone heads to for the sunset, we found a nice one with a clear view in the middle of Old Bagan that served just right. The next day I biked around to some other areas and met more great people, this country seems to be filled with them.

On the way back to Yangon we had another breakdown for a couple of hours near sunset and were passport-checked for only the second time the entire trip by the authorities (WTF? I was checked WAY more times in Thailand, which has a much less oppressive government than that of Myanmar) We chilled for a while at a tea shop at the bus station in Yangon before going straight to the airport for our 3pm flight since Mike had run completely out of money at that point. Although Yangon and Bangkok are similar in size in terms of population, their respective airports could not be more different. The Yangon airport is small, has about 9 flights per day and suffers from frequent power-outages (at least on the day we were there)

In Bangkok Mike and I decided to see some elephants and crocodiles (I'll let him tell the story as I'm running out of time) and then had one last, big night out on the town before we parted ways. We stayed up all night and barely made our shuttle bus to the airport, but it was a good time. It will not be as great to continue the journey without him.

Right now I'm pretty much chillin' in Kolkata's equivalent of Khao San Road in Bangkok (though it's filled with many more locals and many less tourists) trying to get over a cold before I head up into the Himalayas tomorrow night. From there the road may lead through Nepal or back through northern India to Delhi. I will update the blog again when I get back from trekking around in the mountains. It seems I will be back in the 'States in less than a month, so if all goes according to plan (ie, I don't get trapped on a freezing mountain somewhere) I will be seeing some of you very soon!