johannesburg & soweto township
we heard so many bad news from other backpackers as well as in the newscasts the whole time we were in south africa, especially joburg. the unsuspecting backpacker who was stabbed in the back by a drunkard. there was a girl staying at our backpacker hostel whose house was burgled and she sought refuge at the hostel. there was a shootout that resulted in death of four cops and four bad guys. crime was rampant, a normalcy.
being asians, we stuck out like sore thumbs and invited stares wherever we went. the worst thing was that everyone thought we were either koreans or japanese (richer asians). and that's fricking scary, because we're NOT rich at all. so, we decided to do away with our hats to look "less japanesey", despite the scorching sun. yeah, it's winter and it's cold in joburg, but the sun rays were also very strong. but we didn't want to get mugged so the floppy hats would have to go!
we also visited the infamous soweto, and saw the slums and street children.
krueger national park
we saw loads of wonderful animals in botswana. we also saw quite a bit in south africa. it was frigging cold in krueger. when we were out on a night game drive, i was wrapped up like a taliban and was still freezing. in chobe (botswana), i was chased by warthogs (wild boars) while i was hanging out clothes to dry. i didn't realise they were just behind me. we also had baboons for company. in krueger, we heard a lion roaring the whole night. it was so close - only 100metre away from our campsite. and was quite hungry. that was quite an experience.
i mentioned we stayed in tents half the time in africa, it's the cheapest way. the following video is a "tour" of our tent. it's kinda messy, apologies. haha.
lost in the mountains
i experienced altitude sickness, bled from the nose, and lost my way while going down the mountain - alone, by myself. my height phobia worsened the situation. as background, hundreds (perhaps thousands) of people have gotten lost in the mountains of drakensberg. these block-like peaks don't look as threatening as the himalayas so many people think they can walk there on their own. without realising that the paths aren't as clearcut as they imagined. and weather changes really fast, the clouds, winds and frost come and go without warning. how glad i didn't end up as part of the death statistic. ha!
meeting the cape malays
but of course, how could i not visit bo-kaap where the cape malay-muslims were! i simply had to see the malays. :D and indeed, we went back twice to bo-kaap because the people were so hospitable. we met a mr lateef, who was so upset that we came too late. "if you could stay here for a week more, i would have packed both of you in my car and take you to a cape muslim wedding! so you can see for yourself the eastern and western influences!" he told us that if we ever come to cape town again, we must visit him "and i will tell all my children to come home and we will have a big feast together!" said mr lateef, the guy in the last picture in this entry. mr lateef's wife's grandparents were imams at the oldest mosque in south africa, the green owal mosque. mr lateef stayed just beside the mosque and when he saw us, he quickly invited us to the mosque. we told him that he's too nice and he said "it is nothing, it's what i am supposed to do as a muslim".
the people here no longer speak indonesian, the earliest "malays" to have been imported to south africa as slaves. they looked middle-eastern, thanks or no thanks to intermarriage. the cape malays are just like malays in singapore, very house proud. they have very pretty, colourful homes.
we wanted to visit the keramat, or the grave of the tuan guru - the prince who re-wrote the whole koran based on memory... but halfway up the slope, we were followed by three teenage boys, who were spotted earlier smoking weed. we saw many more "bad boys" waiting for us at the hilltop. we were told by the locals these boys were only waiting to ambush unsuspecting tourists and would steal cellphones, cameras and valuables. we decided to make our way back down. along the way, we saw many more guys smoking weed openly. they were "high", and staggering as they walked. they were from other townships, and not local cape malays, we were told. we hastened our pace because we kept seeing random groups of boys tailing us.
mugged?
it was a "minor mug", but it scared the shites out of us. it happened after dinner one night. we were walking back to our backpacker's at the end of Long Street, the "happening" street lined with pubs. two police officers were stationed at every 10-metre intervals along the street, known for muggings and what-nots. we chose to stay there because it's within walking distance to everywhere. and we were not planning to do much in cape town, except to just walk around, chat with people, and watch the world go by. afterall, we were at the end of our trip and we were left with about $20 each.
i told my friend i craved chicken. and the only foodplace with halal chicken was Nando's. so we went to Nando's and i had my quarter-chicken meal. when we left, my friend asked me why i had my shirt collar up covering my neck. she said i looked like a turtle. i told her it's to protect my neck from the blade if some crazy mugger was going to hold me at knifepoint. she laughed, and i laughed too. then i asked her a hypothetical question "you know, so far, we have been really lucky this whole trip. what will you do if we ever get mugged?"
and suddenly, we heard footsteps from behind us. FRICK what was that! i told my friend to hurry up. but she said she ate too much and felt a stitch. the whole street was deserted but we heard footsteps behind us. when i turned back, i saw a shabby-looking woman, and she asked me to give me the drink i was holding. i pretended not to hear, and i walked faster. she hastened her pace, too. i started running, and she ran after me!!! frigging hell!!!
i turned around again and i was horrified that my friend was lagging behind. behind me was that shabby-looking woman. she cupped her hands together and said "DRINK!" i didn't know what to do! i was very scared about passing to her my drink because she could be holding a knife. what if she stabbed me with it? and i was afraid that the woman had other friends lurking about. so i threw the bottle towards her. she grabbed it, and stopped pursuing me. and by then, my friend caught up. and we started walking as fast as we could. my heart was thumping so hard. i was glad we didn't carry any valuables except ourselves. surely the woman could have asked for more stuffs if she saw me with a bag or something.
the next day, again we found ourselves in a risky situation. it was the weekend and the whole street was deserted. we were making our way back to the backpacker's from the waterfront, a 30-minute walk. we did not want to take the taxi, because we had no money left. LOL. really, no joke. ZERO CASH. we spent all on rooibos tea jam spread that we were going to give our friends as souvenirs back in singapore. near the waterfront, i told my friend i saw a group of dodgy boys tailing us. we should walk faster, i said. we bumped into a white african and black african, who showed interest in us "hey ladies, want to come with us? we are single and independent!" they hollered. we just walked on. "HURRY HURRY! it's getting late. i don't want to be harrassed like yesterday" i told my friend.
the Long Street walk was the scariest walk i had in my life. everyone on the road was dodgy men. they had bloodshot eyes, they wore long jackets which looked very dirty and had hoods covering their whole heads, except their faces. we even spotted one with leather jacket and a long metal chain which he jangled in front of him. we believed it's used as a weapon to choke people with, before robbing them. we were stopped at least 10 times. men were hooting at us left, right centre. some were calling out "konichiwa!" and two stopped us in our tracks, and said "MONEY!" we pretended not to understand. my friend and i did not speak to each other at all, we were walking so fast like Flash Fry. it's like playing PacMan. when we saw dodgy hooded men walking on the pavement, we went onto the road to avoid them. and when we saw people approaching us, we would cross the road and make a U-turn.
all the time i was going "girl, liang-ge nan-ren on road, masuk pavement!", or "san-ge nan-ren on right, jalan cepat!" or "nan ren lai ler, behind pillar, cross road guai dien!" we were cautioning each other in simple malay and mandarin. finally when we reached our backpacker's hostel, we both just crashed on the bed with a huge sigh of relief. my heart had never beaten so fast. craziness!
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]]>victoria falls was extremely beautiful, there were rainbows everywhere. also very wet. we spent three hours in the "rain", which is actually condensed mist. the force from the waterfall was so powerful that the landscape was covered with thick smoke-like mist. many times, i just opened my mouth to collect the natural spring water and gulped it down!!! extremely yummy. mineral water straight from the source. hahaha!!!
we also went canoeing at zambezi river. wanted to do whitewaterrafting but the water level was too high, said the guide. my encounter with the crocodile was on this river. initially we wanted to paddle the canoe ourselves until we were told that the river was full of crocodiles and hippos. to locate the hippos, we had to hit the sides of the canoe so the hippos, which were submerged in water, would stand up and we would avoid going near them. we were told hippos could try to turn the canoe over if we ended up on their heads. crocodiles... we had to swim away if we encountered any, said the guide. worried about them, we decided to go with a guide each.
and then i spotted the crocodile on the riverbank, it was pretending to be a log. as i was going "look the crocodile looked so peacef..." and the crocodile suddenly started crawling down the bank and into the water in our direction. within three seconds, it was just 2 metres away from us. i was stunned, and my instinct was to run away. "it's coming towards us! how how????" but i was with the chief guide and he said "no, i'm the guide, we have to shield the rest" and without haste, he paddled towards the croc. i just froze as we were just half a metre away from the huge croc, which was about two metres long, and HUGE. i was staring straight into its bulging eyes and teeth. my heart was thumping so hard and i remember closing my eyes and telling myself "i'm dead". the guide used his paddle to jab the floating croc's head and it went underneath our canoe. we were lifted a little by its moving body and suddenly it was gone. that was close! the guide said "it could still be following us. paddle faster!" and i paddled as fast as i could. suddenly, i felt like i had so much strength. i was frightened to death and i just wanted to go as fast and as far away from the beast as i could. to stop only so i could periodically thump the sides of the canoe to check out for hippos. there were about 10 hippos and we paddled away from them.
on reflection, i felt so fortunate to be alive. the guide said something like when we're in the river, we're at the mercy of the beasts. "if you see a hippo, and swim away, and a lion is waiting for you on the bank, you're done for. that's life, it's just too bad for you". haha.
but it was damn shiok, i tell you. damn challenging and damn exciting. and damn scary! woo hoo, i survived the zambezi river, how many people can say that? ![]()
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out of africa 2006 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>for my africa pictures, click here
out of africa 2006 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>the first two weeks of our trip, we had to set up and break our shared tent every day. it could get quite chilly during the nights in winter, and the urge to pee was quite great. but the howling hyenas, snorting hippos, and roaring lions could be heard quite clearly and i held my bladder till morning most times. i wouldn't want a hyena pouncing on me while i bombed in our "bush toilet". i was glad that i brought enough ammunition to keep me warm. okavango was a time for cultural exchange (will put up some videos in the next entry), we were quite a hit with the locals. they said we were the first to have asked if we could learn to paddle the mokoros (they were initially afraid we would break their paddles), we picked up their language quite fast, and learnt some of their games. our genuine sincerity in wanting to know their way of life touched their hearts i suppose, we could see pride in the eyes as they showed us the way.
i loved this leg of the trip best, because time stood still. we cooked fried maggi mee for everyone, joked and laughed. we got to see happy giraffes and zebras galloping freely, ostriches, wildebeests, impalas, steenboks too. we saw plenty of perfect sunsets and sunrise, clear blue skies, we heard hippos splashing away in the stream. by this time, i had chucked my watch aside. there's no need for a watch in the wild. to survive, trust in your senses, natural instincts, and your heart.
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]]>i know that this is my third entry today, haha! but since i am suffering from withdrawal symptoms, i shall release some photos. there are more to come of course. let's start with lesotho (pronounced le-sut-tu). this was a day trip into the northern highlands of the country to look at San paintings by the earliest San people (who speak the click language) and also meet locals. it's fairly untouristy (majority of tourists would have entered through the south and flocked around the capital).
the pictures might not say much but i was filled with awe the whole time. i was so engrossed looking out of the window, wow-ing away at nature's beauty, simplicity of life, and vast expanse of land, and taking photos that the guide (g.a.r.e.t.h, that guy in the bandanna and shades) who was driving beside me almost lost control of the 4WD as he was trying to take a peek at my LCD camera screen, too. basotho people could walk (unhurriedly of course) for several hours just to deliver a bag of rice from point A to point B. in singlish term, it's a <em>relak-jack</em> culture, which i kinda miss actually.
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]]>note: bagan is the only spot in burma that i faced some annoyances.
i would appreciate that readers READ the whole travelogue and all the entries, before just singling out one post, and then without context and background of the author (that is, me) person and character, started making personal attacks.
just for your info, for this post (if you're too lazy to trawl through the rest). of course there are touts everywhere, and of course i know the economic crisis they are in. of course that would require me to be extra tolerant of touts. i have visited the country well aware of the problems they faced, and i have brought what i needed to give.
i am talking about particular spots, the annoyances at touristy spots that people should look out for, like bagan. i have met touts everywhere, some even end up as my good friends believe it or not, because i end up chatting and making friends with them. they were pushy, but they were not rude, unlike the ones i met in bagan, who were used to having tourists going there so it became like a normalcy for them to force people to buy, and be rude when they don't.
i will appreciate that before making comments in future, readers don't sound so high and mighty and pooh-pooh something without background and context. be polite and i will be polite to you as well. if not i will just delete your comments. thanks much.
Bagan is one of the most amazing sights in SE Asia. In an area of 40 km2, there are over 2,000 stupas and pagodas built during the Bagan Dynasty founded by King Anawratha in 1044 AD. Bagan is one of the ancient capitals of Myanmar. The main pagodas are: Ananda Pagoda, Damayangyi Pagoda, Hti-lo-min Pagoda, Shwegugyi Pagoda, and Shwesandaw Pagoda.
however, let's just say like my cambodia's angkor wat trip, this particular trip to bagan was somewhat of a letdown, just as i had imagined. perhaps, it's too touristy. and there are too many sly touts/peddlers harrassing you to buy their wares.
when i was at shwesandaw, a woman came forward and clipped a butterfly pin on my tee. she told me to put my sandals near where she sat. i had thought she was a temple staff. only later i realised, she's selling things and making me wear her pin meant that "i was hers". and that she'd done me a favour looking after my sandals. and taking off the pin would take time, and she could use it to her advantage and harrassed me further.
when i was at ananda, a girl kept following me about, trailing 3m behind me. like my shadow. i was so irritated i asked her "what are you trying to do and following me?" and then she said she wanted me to see her items after my walk. when i said no, she said "not now, later ok? later ok?" and wouldn't take no as an answer. i didn't answer. as i walked into the pagoda, a man followed me, telling me which angles to shoot. what a pest. he walked in front of me, expecting me to follow his steps. i walked the other way. then he reappeared with rubies "you want to buy stones?" he asked. when i went out, the same woman bugged me again.
after so many unheeded "i don't wants", i ran out of patience. i was feeling ill and trying to appreciate the ruins, and these people had to pester me non-stop. in a loud stern voice, i yelled "Maw Weh Chienh Bu!" meaning "I DON'T WANT". i hate having to lose my temper. i hate having to scold people. but these touts were too much.
the woman parroted after me "Maw Weh Chienh Bu!", as if to mock me. so annoying.
if you had read earlier sections, you could tell i love the burmese' friendliness - only when it's genuine. but in bagan, everyone wanted to make small talk not because they're interested in me, but so that they could get me to buy something from them. from painters, to jewellers, to hawkers. because of them, i had lost so many photo opportunities. they planted themselves at strategic places where the views are good. i'd rather lose a shot than being pounced on unexpectedly, lied to, or harrassed. that's why i preferred the more remote hsipaw or kalaw.
everyone says bagan is wonderful, i agree yes. the pagodas are exquisite but the people really annoy me. the first morning at the guesthouse, the woman serving breakfast ignored me completely. i was walking in front of a western woman, and she said "Allo!" so i responded. and i realise she wasn't greeting me, she was greeting the western lady instead. she went on to ask the lady how her day went, and asked what she would like to drink. i waited for her to ask me, but she ignored me. she didn't even look my way. another western woman came in, and she greeted her the same way. after she gave them their toasts, only then she acknowledged my existence. she spoke to me in burmese. i spoke english. then her face changed. only then she realised i was a guest and a foreigner, too. but she didn't treat me any better.
perhaps she thought i looked poor. anyway, i know i am very shabby-looking, and ill too. and even if i was a local, that didn't mean i should be treated any differently. she gave me two pieces of bread, the other people got four. HMPH. not that i could finish four pieces, but still. everyone else at the guesthouse was good to me, except her.
in the afternoon, i came back and asked for hot water. she was watching TV and she got her assistant to give me the mug. HMPH. what a snobbish woman. this kind of people don't deserve to have a good life. not that i'm cursing her, but well, i really dislike people who treat people nice only because they think they can profit from the relationship. full of crap.
then, i went on to my horsecart, and unlike the woman, the driver was overfriendly. now, thinking back, i think i had been taken advantage of. angry. you see, i was coughing and sneezing the whole way because of the dust, and the ancient pagodas didn't help. it was musty but i still climbed one all the way to the top. to get on top, one would have to walk through a narrow spiral staircase within the pagoda itself. you would need a torch because the stairwell is very dark, and the bricks are crumbling. anyhow, he went up with me. i have height phobia. so i was feeling a little frightened about looking down. if i needed any help, it's handholding and that's enough. the furthest all the burmese men i interacted with went was to hold my hand or my arm, that's it. this one grabbed me around the shoulders with one hand , held my hand with the other - hugging, yes. and when i was going up in the dark, he touched my buttocks, my back, my waist. HMPH. i was pushing him away, but he made it look like it's normal, that he was just being caring. so i was feeling a little confused, plus my splitting headache didn't help. then, on the cart itself, we chatted.
then came the TYPICAL want-to-molest query: "are you married?" and "if you want a massage?" and i said no. then he asked for my age. i said 27. and he said "me too!" then later he went on talking about how everyone needed a burmese massage. and I KNEW IT, he wanted to demonstrate the steps on me. at this point, we were at some very secluded place at noon. i just said "yes, burmese massage on THE TOES is very good". and he said "no, here is better!" before i could react, he started to press on my thighs and back. i pushed his hand away. i think he got the idea. because i was sitting right at the edge of the cart, almost falling off. and he asked me to put my things near him. i didn't want to. and because there's space, he asked me to lie down beside him instead of sitting down. he said: "not good for your back, you can relax". i said no. and then he started pulling weeds of my pants near the knees. ARGH! stop touching me, bloody pervert.
it didn't help that he was chewing betel (yucks), and has red stained teeth. and i think he's also very lazy. he kept saying that my fees were a discount. like he wanted to make me feel guilty. and there was one point near some deserted place, he said he wanted his horse to rest. so i got down, and walked around. he joined me shortly after. i was walking away so fast from him that i went straight into a cactus tree! it's quite amusing if you're there to witness. the tree was quite huge and the sturdy thorns pricked my forehead. i went "Owww!" and the unwelcome hero came to my rescue and started rubbing my forehead. URGH!
anyway, 3 hours later, i decided enough was enough. my cough was killing me. i asked to be sent back to the guesthouse. the horse was going clippety clop clippety clop, so slow. then he asked if i would invite him for lunch. the cheek! i asked to get down 100m away from the guesthouse, and gave him the fee and extra 1 dollar for him to have lunch elsewhere (not with me of course). he said he would pick me up at 6pm to see sunset, and the next day for sunrise. i thought it's unwise to go with him. after sunset, it's going to be dark. what could happen. so, i planned my escape and hid in a teahouse. i sat very far in, in the dark, with my back facing the road.
it was way past sunset and i thought i was safe. while sipping my strawberry juice, he suddenly appeared in front of me and said "ALLO!" i almost choked on my juice. "eh hi" and he said "where did you go? i wait for you long time. i ask the manager to find you" and i quickly replied "ah, not feeling well. feel very sick. so i walked slowly around. sorry. it's ok, i don't want to see sunset and tomorrow don't want also. i am very sick" and he said "ah ok, i can see you are sick" and then he stood there. in my heart, i went "SHOOOOOOO!" this translated to polite signlanguage speak was a nod and a polite wave "thank you... tata... babaiiii"... i think he got the idea that i wasn't going to invite him for a drink.
the next day, i got on a trishaw and the driver, nyunt, turned out to be a sweetie. he was so hardworking. have i told you how charitable burmese are - even the most impoverished ones? nyunt wanted me take me to see the sunset for free! "no need to pay, present from me," he said. i looked at the scrawny figure in front of me. nyunt was wearing an old, tattered shirt. at 24, he's his family's sole breadwinner, supporting his young brother and widowed mother. his earnings aren't much and yet, he still wanted to give "presents". i think he felt "indebted" because i had bought for him a bottle of mineral water and i volunteered to walk when the ground got too thick with dry sand, making cycling almost impossible.
i was told later that many tourists refused to walk or never offered to buy water for the trishaw riders. i was sad to hear this. water's just 20cents, and walking is faster than forcing the rider to expend so much energy pedalling. how inhuman some tourists could be! shame on them.
i didn't accept his offer though, because i was heading to yangon that afternoon. and i had fallen ill. so, no sunrise and sunset pictures in bagan.
burma undercover 2005 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>i almost fell off this bridge. some parts of the bridge had been laid with new wooden planks of a brighter colour. as i walked along the bridge, my mind started to wander far and away. in my dazed state, i thought i should step away from the "bright" planks, and go for the gray colour on the sides (which was actually the colour of the river). if i had done so, i would have fallen into the river.
anyhow, the monks were on day off on this day. and they were friendly, and trying to chat to as many people as possible - to connect with the outside world.
mingun
mingun is one of the four ancient cities in mandalay. Mingun is about 6 miles from Mandalay on the left bank of Ayeyarwady River. A pleasant 45 minutes boat trip along the Ayeyarwady River which one can observe part of the life style of the people living by the river. The world's largest Mingun Pagoda was built during the reign of King Bodawpaya but left the construction unfinished when he died in 1819. There is also a gigantic Mingun Bell weighing 90 tons, claimed to be the World's largest hung and ringing untracked bell.
at mingun, i witnessed a squabbling teenage couple. actually only the guy was yelling his lungs out, scolding the girl. he even wanted to punch her. he was berating her in public and she just sat there quietly. i was wondering if this was a typical burmese relationship. later, i was told it's not. after i met ko shwe - a loving husband - i realise that behaviour is unique to every individual.

look who's inside the bell? keke, yours truly. :D

khanh was the highlight of mingun. we met at the river bank. later, we spent a few hours chatting about his aspirations and dreams.
khanh is training to be a licensed guide. he's now earning $30 a month. after school, he told his family in the countryside that he wanted to work as a guide, and not a mat-weaver like all the boys in the village.
"i want to see the world you know. although it's not possible under this government. but at least, speaking with tourists would allow me to connect with the outside world," he said.
"i get euro notes and coins from tourists and i want to show them to my parents. they're from the countryside and have never seen anything like this. i'm sure they will be proud of me," said khanh, unscrewing a box filled with various currencies.
khanh was a loyal son who loved his parents very much. he took out a slip of paper showing his donation of $1 to the temple, on behalf of his parents. he folded the certificate carefully and put it back into his bag.
"you love your parents a lot huh? you missed them?" i asked.
"yes, very much. my mother was crying when i left her. i just wanted to earn well so i could support them you know. i would earn more as a guide than a mat-weaver," he said.
he pointed to his white teeth. "see, i've stopped chewing betel the last three months. i promised a german tourist i would stop chewing. she told me it's bad for my health," he said.
"i agree. you can get mouth cancer if you chew too much. also, you look better without. it's good for business, too. more hygienic, you know," i said.
he nodded his head, agreeing.
khanh later bought two packets of tissues and passed to me "here's a present for you. i don't have much money. unless you want to share my food," he said, taking out his lunchbox.
"that's so kind of you, khanh. no i don't want to eat," i said. i was touched by the simple gesture. i took out two pens and passed them to him. "this is my present to you. you will need these when you're a busy licensed gude next time," i said.
he smiled and nodded his head. "thank you," he said.
taking risks and beating the system
this is ko shwe, motorbike man-turned-friend. he's the highlight of my trip to mandalay. how we met was arranged by god. earlier in the day, i was looking for trishaw to take me to the jetty so i could visit mingun. i just chose one at random, an old man on a green trishaw. the man told me he would pick me up at noon, after my mingun visit.
so, after the visit, i couldn't locate the man. instead, ko shwe arrived on a motorbike, telling me he's been sent by the trishawman who's busy attending to other matters. i thought ko shwe was lying until he spoke to me in Bahasa. ko shwe has worked in a malaysian state for four years and so he was fluent in the language. i had lied to the trishawman, telling him i was malaysian. actually, in burma, i lied about my identity wherever i went. sometimes, i was thai, at other times i was filipina. but most times, i was malaysian. i am very careful about being tracked that's why i adopted various names and nationalities. and i made sure to clear the cache after logging off from the internet.
ko shwe missed speaking with malaysians and was ecstatic to know i was malaysian. but of course, i told him the truth. he wasn't disappointed. in fact, he's excited. and he told me he thought highly of me. "just now, when i came for you, you insisted on finding the trishaw man," he said. and i said "yes, because i promised him that he would take me around. i didn't want to break my promise." and he said "i know, your attitude is very good and i trust you", said the chemistry graduate.
i had lunch with him and opened a can of worms. ko shwe told me many dreadful things about the burmese government. he's a motorbike man because his degree is useless. he said "so what if i'm a graduate. my degree's worthless as there's no work for me" and no way he's going to work with the government.
"you know why there's so much corruption? the government pay civil servants peanuts and that's why they have to turn to bribery to survive," he offered. "this government is crazy, tax people like nobody's business. there's no freedom for us burmese. there's no media, we can't travel outside, and there are so many restrictions."
"government hospitals are corrupt. my mother was ill six months ago and no nurse/doctor attended to her for 10 days. my mother, a seventy something year old lady, was in so much pain that her body was curling like a foetus. i only realised my mother was not receiving treatment until i saw the woman on the next bed who's suffering from same illness being given a different medication. i stormed to the doctor's office and told him "how much do you want?" after i gave him $1,000 only then the staff treated my mother. that's all the money i have. it's expensive these government hospitals. and everyday i buy cakes for the staff, so they would treat my mother well. no compassion at all," he lamented.
"let me tell you another story. i was at the hospital when my wife gave birth, and there's a woman there who had trouble delivering her baby. she lost so much blood and was dying. she looked very poor. so, i told the doctor that i would want to donate my blood to the woman. and guess what, the doctor wanted to charge the woman 2,000Kyats (US$2) for my blood! i was so angry because i was donating for free and the woman was not rich. how could the doctors exploit me and patients like that!" he continued. he mentioned about how some of his friends who're still serving time because they openly opposed the government.
after lunch, ko shwe said that he would help me evade tax. because i looked like a local, he said he would use the "local gates" to get into the attractions, which he said were non-attractions. "there's nothing in the palace but the government charges $10 to foreigners. i'm not going to let the government earn so i'll smuggle you in."
he gave me a burmese name - nila. and told me to play dumb. "don't speak english at all. if the soldiers speak with you, don't say anything. i'll tell them that you're from the Chin state. it's one of the tribes here and you can't speak burmese."
"ko shwe, what would happen to you if we're caught? i'm worried for you!" i asked.
"don't worry. no one could tell you're foreigner," he assured me.
"but what's the worst that could happen?" i asked.
"i'll get sent to jail for a few months i suppose. like some of my friends. but don't worry. i'm confident we wouldn't be discovered," he said.
the city tour was the most heart-thumping experience for me. we went to the palace and a couple of other places of interest, using the back gate. there was a signage "Foreigners are forbidden to enter via this gate" and i wanted to die. sitting behind on his motorbike, ko shwe rode past soldiers and military officers. when they asked where he's going, he said he's meeting a friend, who's a general. i tried to act as cool as i could. i was so nervous.
reaching the places, he told me to enter first while he walked behind me. "you take off your shoes and just walk in confidently. if you hang around too long, they will know you're a foreigner. i'll follow from behind and i'll carry your bag," he instructed.
i did as i was told. i was afraid to take out my canon camera, which obviously looked like a "foreign" product with german wideangle lenses. he told me not to worry. i snapped a shot and quickly placed the camera back into the bag.
one instance, when we were riding out of the gate, ko shwe was stopped. he got down from his motorbike and four generals surrounded him, interrogating him in burmese. in my heart, i went "OH SHIT, i've been discovered!" i saw a soldier walking towards me from a distance and i didn't know what to do. i got down from the motorbike, walked towards the gate and pretended to get bitten by mosquitoes on the legs. i was so nervous.
then, i saw ko shwe making a signal for me. he told me to get out as quickly as possible. so, i quickly went through the gate and walked for 100metres. i was feeling so worried about him. 10 mins later, he emerged.
"what happened!? i asked.
"bah, nothing. they wanted to fine me because i didn't fasten my helmet properly!" he said.
"oh! phew, i thought i had been discovered!" i said.
"i thought so, too. i thought someone had spilled on me because he wanted a share of the profit. well, they wanted to fine me 2,000Kyats just because i didn't fasten my helmet properly, could you believe that! anyway, i argued with them. i told them i had a general friend in the army and would complain to him. so, they let me go," he said.
"ko shwe, you made me so worried! really! i saw the soldier coming towards me and i thought both of us are dead meat!" i said.
"i know. that's why i told you to quickly get out. you see nila... this is what the burmese feels everyday. we look cool on the outside but we are fearful all the time. inside, we worry and feel angry," he said.
anyway, we climbed mandalay hill and talked somemore - about his stint overseas, about his past love who's a malaysian. a muslim lady had fallen in love with him and asked if he would convert from buddhism to islam. he had liked her quite a bit, but to convert his religion was something difficult to do. afterall, theravada buddhists in burma are very religious and pious. the burmese life revolves around the Buddhist faith since the day he was born. obliging as they are, most Buddhist burmese will not compromise in matters concerning religion. why, even during the colonial period, the western lords, like it or not, have to go barefoot in temples. so for many, conversion is perhaps a very tall order.
"no nila, i wouldn't convert for anything. so, i went back home to marry my girlfriend," said ko shwe.
by that time, he shared so much with me he treated me like a friend. he didn't want to charge me anything.
"ko shwe, how much should i pay you?" i asked.
"no need nila. you're now my friend. i charge other foreigners but no i'm not charging you. we're friends now. i want to take you home to see my wife and baby," he said.
we didn't have time for that, unfortunately. but i gave him some money.
at the end of the day, ko shwe passed to me a sweet handwritten note: "nila dear, i will never forget today. keep intouch. far from the eyes, but you're close to my heart."
wonderful, wonderful ko shwe.
i realise many burmese do not make public their emotions. ko shwe, for example, rode to a quiet spot before passing me the note. then he rode to the guesthouse and he showed no emotion. same like Han, the inle trek guide. when he was alone with me, he was emotional, affectionate and expressive. but in front of other people, the relationship was business-like. and they usually felt embarrassed when you gave them presents. most westerners might think it's rude that burmese simply hide your presents in their fists, without opening them. but really, it shows how non-calculating they are. they would only open the presents when you're not around and they appreciate them a lot.
moustache brothers
The Moustache Brothers enjoy a certain amount of notoriety in the West due to the continuing political nature of their humour. The Moustache Brothers perform an interesting blend of music, drama, improvisation, and social commentary/satire known as pwe. Two members of the troupe - Par Par Lay and Lu Zaw, Lu Maw's older brother and cousin, respectively - were arrested in 1996 after performing at an NLD gathering and telling jokes about the government and sentenced to seven years in prison, including two months of hard labour in iron shackles.
it was interesting to meet them in the flesh at their home. the trio, their wives and siblings, performed nightly at their home. the blacklisted group is disallowed to perform outside. they earn their keep through tourist dollars. lumaw, the host, was witty and very open talking about the "scandal". we have been told that government people in plainclothes do hang out outside their house whenever performance is ongoing to spy on them or the audience. after the show, i was approached by a stranger, who asked if i needed transport back. he didn't look like a trishaw rider and he sounded a little nervous. suspecting he's a spy, i told him i already had transport. ko shwe also swiftly came over and told the guy that he's sending me back. we quickly left the place.
i was wondering why the spy - if he really was one - would go for me. then i realise, i was the only person in the 10-strong audience who kept snapping photos non-stop. and i asked to buy their tee. also, after the performance, i went up to the trio and whispered to them about my desire to speak in length with them. they said i should come to their house again the next day during daytime. but i had already bought ticket to bagan. that was a pity, really. they said there's no way to telephone or email them, as the government is tracking their moves and tapping their conversations.

(left to right) luzaw, lumaw, and par par lay
personal thoughts & impressionsif i had another day, i would stay in mandalay. there were a few unsettled business - to talk with the moustache brothers and to meet ko shwe's family.
mandalay itself is a messy city and the air's filled with dust. mandalay made me fall sick. but there's a lot of "controversy", "excitement" and "adventure" to be had here - in the form of people and conversations. i had an adventurous time in mandalay.
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]]>hsipaw is a remote sleepy town where electricity is available only a few hours at night. if you're a scaredy cat like me, you light candles around the room while you lay in bed. by 6pm (sunset time), everything comes to a halt. shops close around that time, and everyone prepares to retire to bed. afterall, what else can you do in the dark?

when the lights came on for three hours at night, i had my dinner of instant mee and did my laundry, and prepared the candles. lighted the candles when the lights went out, and listened to my mp3 player till i fell asleep.
taking the 10-hour overnight bus from inle, i reached mandalay at 3.30am. it was a mad ride on stretches of rough road. i could have chosen to stay on in mandalay but decided to go ahead to hsipaw. i was too late to take the train (departing at 4.45am at another location) and was too early for the 5am bus. reaching mandalay, i was swarmed by a group of taxi drivers who told me to take their taxi. luckily there was this man, who worked for a hotel, who told me to hire a shared car to hsipaw. he said one driver had already found four other burmese men to join me on the ride to the north. i was feeling really worried. it was very dark still and i was going to take the car with five young burmese men. i could have been robbed etc etc. the driver charged 10,000K for the ride. i bargained to 8,000. anyhow, my gut feeling said i should be allright. and so i took up the offer (apparently, it's a good bargain). i slept throughout that 6hour trip and had bumps on my head. drivers here drive like mad bulls.
i woke up at 2oclock and started wandering around on my rented bike. i went to the mosque, met some kids there.
then i went to hunt for food. i was hungry, and i didn't want to eat my sardines. i found a muslim vendor who owned streetstall 786 (muslim symbol). his daughter made for me some local shan noodles.
and later i tried to find my way to the sunset hill to catch the sunset. but i got lost, and the seat for the bike was too high and i had trouble trying to balance myself on it.it was almost sunset and i was still pushing my bicycle around. i found a teashop and asked the teagirl how to get to sunset hill. she pointed the way. i walked on. 20 mins later, i heard the sound of motorbike "Vroom Vroom Vroooom" behind me. i turned around, it was the teagirl. her name's Minh.
she couldn't speak much english, but she patted the seat behind her and said "i take you to hill". WoooooooooWWWWW!!! HOW SWEET!!!! minh sent me to the foot of the hill. she said i could climb. but i didn't know how far up (later i learnt it's about an hour walk up!). she then said "i go with you. on motorbike". WoooooooooooWWWWWWWW! so she rode and halfway up the hill, the motorbike ran out of diesel. we went back down to refuel and we went back up. luckily i didn't attempt to climb. it was no molehill. it was quite a tall hill. Minh took me to the teashop later. i wanted to give her money, she refused to take anything from me. so i gave her the lipstick. heh heh.

we passed by these trees on the way up

lovely sunset, isn't it? the sun looked like perfect bowls in burma
the next day, i went on a boattrip with middle-aged people - from australia, america and switzerland. they are seasoned travellers and i learnt a lot about the world. it was so wonderful to be in the company of mature people who were so willing to share their wisdom and experiences in different countries.
we also went to the many fruit plantations around the area. at the monastery, our boatguide told us about how the government collected tax from burmese. a bowl of noodles, for example, costs 200Kyats or 20cents. but half the amount was tax. indeed, it's believable. i spent much more for the things in burma than in laos, another underdeveloped nation. but laos items could be pricey if they're imported.
the boatguide also mentioned about how some families would prefer to send their children to the monastery to receive education, rather than government schools, which charge exorbitant fees that many burmese families - especially large ones - could not afford.
while having one of the sons donning the yellow robe was an honour to any burmese family, it was also seen as a reduction in family expenses. in the monasteries, children are taught the subjects taught in secular schools, too.
but i suppose one consequence of this is the rise of "fake monks". this elaborated in the Inle Lake section. go read.
after doing so many things everyday, i couldn't sit still. so after that i went to see mr eusoff again and gave to him my medicines.
some hsipaw scenes:
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]]>the man beside me was having a headache. he was sniffing on orange peel to reduce the giddiness. i took out my ointment and dabbed some on his palm. he was appreciative. later at a station, i saw a boy hobbling outside. he hurt his feet. i felt so sorry and helpless. i took whatever medication left and called out to him from the train window. i gave him the tube of deepheat. his face brightened.
i saw young kids, as young as 5, already working. they carried pots of water and a mug. they worked as handwasher. they ran back and forth along the track, hoping someone would want his hands washed. for this, they probably got 10Kyats (1 cent). i felt sad. life must be tough for these people. but their faces didn't show any sign of weakness. their resilience was astonishing. i saw buffaloes being tied to trees. i felt like crying, too. a lot of things went through my head. suddenly, i realise i didn't miss anyone at home, i didn't miss my friends, my family, my work etc... but on that train ride, i thought about all my loved ones - dead and alive. it was a good ride. i spent the rest of the day walking around the town centre. and in the evening, i met steve, an australian traveller. we chatted over coffee until around 10pm and i went back to the guesthouse to rest. the clock tower (purcell tower), which was a gift from queen victoria and mimicked the Big Ben, made noisy "Dong Dong Dong" chime every hour. which was a blessing. my cheap watch, by now, has stopped working.

The Gokteik Viaduct spans a formidable obstacle on the oldest and most direct route connecting Burma with Southwestern China, a route of which we have mention far back in ancient chronicles. It is, there is but little doubt, the same "gold and silver road" along which Marco Polo accompanied the Chinese invading armies on their march to Mandalay. In former times there was a very considerable traffic on it, but of late years the disturbed political condition of the countries through which it passes has led to much of the trade being diverted to other channels.
The general design of the bridge is, as you have heard, the work of Sir Alexander Rendel & Company, the Consulting Engineers to the Burma Railways Company. The bridge, however, was built by The Pennsylvania Steel Company, of Steelton, Pennsylvania, in the United States of America. By November 1, 1900, the viaduct was completed. The rails are at a height of 2,135 feet above mean sea level, and are 825 feet above the Chungzoune Stream, which flows through the natural tunnel below.
pyin u lwin town centre
Pyin U Lwin, or Maymyo, used to be a former summer retreat for the British gentry during the period of colonial rule. Pyin U Lwin is placed at about 1070 meters above sea level and is 67 kilometers from Mandalay. The city has a peaceful setting where it is possible to admire the typical colonial architecture and the near Anisakan waterfalls.
Pyin U Lwin is dotted with important military facilities, including the Defense Services Institute of Technology. one can see soldiers in uniform and rifles walking around the city, but no way could you snap a shot of them. in fact, a traveller is disallowed from photographing any uniformed man or government military building.
what's interesting about pyin u lwin is the horse-drawn carriages used to transport people around, a "colonial" feature that still remains till today. sweater knitting is the forte of people living here and many shops at the city centre sell them.

national press building. interesting to find a media centre - albeit already shut down. there's no freedom of press here and every media product rattles off government propaganda. i smuggled The Myanmar Times and The New Light of Myanmar - two newspapers - home (review in the main homepage section)
around pyin u lwin
the following day, i hopped on a motorbike and explored the attractions around pyin u lwin, namely the botanical gardens, chinese temple and one pagoda as well as the sacred caves containing buddha images. the air was fragrant and the streets on pyin u lwin were clean. we passed by many pine trees, and colonial houses with huge gardens.
the highlight for me was the fact that i entered all these attractions for free - because they thought i was burmese. another highlight was when the motorbike man went to the local hospital to pay for his sister's delivery fees. the midwife came out of the operating room with her bloodstained gloves. later, i learnt that many burmese don't go to government hospitals because of the exorbitant fees. consultation alone costs USD$5, a big amount for poor burmese whose average earnings - depending on their job - are $1 to $3 a day. and the staff would not attend to them unless they pay the fees upfront. so, unless they experienced complications, they would give birth at home with the help of experienced village midwives.
then i learnt that the motorbike man had used the money i gave him (5,000Kyats = about USD$5) as deposit for the operation. he didn't tell me this until much later! he should have told me that earlier on so, we could go to the hospital and settle the bill first. his poor sister had to suffer because money had not been paid. no wonder he looked so stressed out.
the ride was pleasant and worth every cent. the only unpleasantness was the fact that the motorbike man chewed betel, and he kept popping that and spitting while we were riding. honestly speaking, i was feeling so worried about his red-stained sputum landing on my feet or face. so, whenever he turned left/right to spit, i ducked and kept my legs close to the motorbike. so much so that i developed cramps on my thighs. haha.
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]]>Kalaw still boasts colonial-era cottages and villa. Its environs are great for trekking, and at some distance from the town come upon the Palaung villages where the name rake ethnic people still live in long house. They are Buddhists, and wear beautifully woven costumes of deep reds, greens and black. There are also reversal enchanting pagodas and temples. Kalaw is very pleasant in itself but the main reason to stop here is to do a trek to nearby tribes villages.
anyhow, i reached here in kalaw at 3am in the morning by bus. i was the only foreigner on the bus. it was very dark and extremely cold. the bus stalled in the mountains because it got stuck into some drain, and later got stuck again because it ran out of fuel. it's amusing that everyone got out of the bus and helped to push the bus forward.
i was the only person to get down from the bus, which was heading to taungyi - another town. but luckily, i bumped into a man who was suffering from insomnia. he was sitting around and spotted me, looking lost. he said "may i help you?" and i said yes i'd like to go to one particular guesthouse. actually there's another guesthouse right where i got down, but i didn't want to pay a full night charge. so i roamed around.
it turned out that the guesthouse owner is his good friend. yay. so he took me there, and checked into my clean room. US5 per night.i tried to sleep, but got a nightmare. i dreamt two chemistry teachers died and their blind ghosts (with holes for the eyeballs) were trying to cheat me into joining their ghost group). i woke up, in cold sweat. i slept again cos its just 5am. the next time i woke up it's already 10am. i walked around and chatted with the locals. i painted the women's nails, presented some with lipstick. they're extremely friendly people.

students and teachers gathered at the principal's home to watch TV together, before heading to school. i poked my head through the door and the teachers invited me in. how lovely.

i met T, a solo traveller from japan. T did the "clockwise" route, while i did the "anticlockwise" route. i met the same travellers again and again as we were all having almost similar itineraries. and there's a lot of knowledge to be gained from meeting different people.
the Thiens invited me to dinner
after walking around chatting with locals, i decided to veer off the main road to see how the homes in inner kalaw looked like. while walking, two people waved and called out to me from their hut's verandah, beckoning me to stop by their place. i did, and they served me tea.
the two neighbours - one burmese from the danu tribe and the other a burmese muslim - and i chitchatted for about two hours. later, they asked me to come back again in the evening for dinner. halal food, we're muslims, they assured me. which i gladly accepted.
i met the whole family that evening. it was dark and the homes looked similar - even with a torchlight. after knocking a few wrong doors, i finally found the thien's family home. the whole family - mother, father, four kids, two neighbours - was waiting for me outside at the verandah, worried about me getting lost. when they saw me, their faces brightened and welcomed me into their humble abode.
they gathered around me at their living room and served me chapatti and dhal curry in candlelight because there's no electricity supply. theyre such a nice FAMILY! REALLLLYYY, i cant believe my luck so far, bumping into extremely hospitable people. they are not well-off, but they treated me so kindly. they even switched on their tv to let me watch hindi show. and auntie roshan packed chapattis for my trekking the following day. she liked me so much she gave me her old longyi, which she had worn when she was a teenager. so sweet right? and amu gave me a hat she knitted herself. such nice presents.
i spoke a lot to them, about our families. anuar later sent me home on his motorbike.
trekking day 1
i embarked on my 40km three-day trek, slow and and sluggish. the old engine needed oiling. it was a pleasant trek, passing pine woods, vast lands of cropland as far as the eyes could see - cabbages, tomatoes, herbs, wheat. the gentle breeze cooled our bodies as we perspired endlessly under the hot fiery sun.
what made the trek extra special was the company. i loved J and L. travellers from France, they were a joy to be with. sporty, considerate, well-mannered. it's their first time travelling in Asia, and yet they displayed acute sensitivity. curious about the way of life in Asia, they probed with much care. yet they were jovial and joked abundantly.
Han, the trek guide, and I hit it off very well. he could speak fairly good English, but had problems explaining himself well, especially to the European girls. they were like chickens and ducks talking, and i played the middleman most times.
a typical conversation:
"over here, the dams helped in irrigation," said Han.
"what are dams? irrigation?" asked J.
"dams you know, dams. how to say..." said Han.
"sorry my English is very poor but i don't know what's a dam," said J.
i would put in my 2 cents' worth.
"dams are like walls in the river, you know. you erect these walls in different sections of the river to block water flow. then, you channel the water through pipes to the farms so the villagers could use it to water the crops. that process is called irrigation."
"ah so!" said J. Han looked appreciative. i suppose it was quite fun playing the middleman. i find it a joy to share what i know with people like J and L, who are so curious about the Asian way of doing things.
there were some sensitive topics that Han felt embarrassed discussing - like why J should hang her underwear/socks below the men's clothes to dry on the line (while we were at the monastery), and why it's impolite to lie on the bench (at the monastery). it's quite funny to see Han twitching and fidgeting, trying to find the most polite way to explain.
i saved him the trouble. basically, it's a cultural insult when women hang things above men's.
"J, in asia, men are considered the head of the family and should be respected. westerners may not be agreeable but i'd like to point out that it's not like women are subjugated. it's a consultative relationship. women do advise the men on how things should be done/run in the household. and there are cases of henpecked men. anyhow, in some traditional asian communities, men are considered leaders and thus should be respected like that. and since we are at the monastery, monks are above us. so, no way we can hang our panties above the monk's robes! but well, if you're in modern asian society, like say singapore, you can hang your panties anywhere and noone is bothered," i said.
Han slapped me on the back. "Excellent explanation! Thank You, Nila!!!" he said. J said: ah, i see i see that is good!"
i also tried to learn more about westerners and their habits. i noticed J and L were quick to praise and compliment. so i asked them.
"L, is it a westerner's habit to say "Good" and "Wonderful" to everything even if something isn't good because you're afraid to offend? like the massage, you gave the thumbs-up, but after i tried it, it's <em>sehr schlecht</em>!"
after thinking afew minutes, L said: "hmmmmmm, yes you are right to say that! i suppose we don't want to embarrass the hosts."
"haha, i knew it but it's funny," i said. "in my country, if we praise too much, we'll be labelled patronising. and sometimes, it's good to criticise if things aren't good so things can improve. anyway, just like you to know that you can be honest and straightforward with me. do not worry about offending me cos i'm very open like that. so, if you find something bad about me that you want to point out, don't be afraid to let me know, ok. i want to have fun, we'll have fun!"
and great fun we had. we had a wonderful time because everyone's so honest with each other. i love the girls.

we had chapatti - a type of Indian flatbread baked in charcoal stove, for lunch. the scenery from top of one mountain range was breathtaking, and the weather was cool.
we also had to walk along the railway track, and we met monks and students walking home from school. they greeted us and made small talk. they were curious to know about us, or simply wanted to practise their English and French. everyday, they walk 2 hours along this track to get to school.
we finally reached our first stop at 5pm. we stayed with a family comprising of 10 sisters and 1 brother. they were very friendly hosts. the sisters fawned over us, giving us back rubs and serving us tea. not for money. we didn't have to give them any money. like many hospitable burmese, they're just happy to have visitors staying in their homes.
there were two visiting men there. Han told me that they were "muchin" (moo-cheen), or suitors for two of the sisters. in Burma, men who fancy their women would visit their homes nightly to get to know the girls better. such official meetings put the parents at ease. after a year or so, the couple could get married. Han said later that during the three-day trek, there were local men expressing interest to be our "muchin". this stressed him out greatly. he said "this is my first time leading three girls and all three of you are very beautiful. everywhere we go, there's some man who would want to "muchin"". ah so. haha, that's quite funny to hear.
anyway, the young sisters were jumping and clamouring all over us, hugging us and wanting to play. they could speak no word of English but from their expressions, we knew they were happy to have us around. they giggled when we did something "foreign" and "funny", like stretching exercises. they would follow all the steps.

we could view a beautiful sunset from the verandah and there's no electricity there. we had a candlelight dinner. how romantic. haha.
trekking day 2
i tossed and turned in bed the whole night. i was freezing so much that dew formed on my jacket, which i had zipped up right the way to the top.
"Cock a cockkkk kerk!" the old rooster crowed. i looked at the watch, only 4am. stupid cock. he was unstoppable. i slipped in and out of consciousness.
at 6am, i was gently woken up by Han. "nila, wake up already. breakfast is waiting, and we need to walk early," Han said. i was freezing as i hobbled out of the house to wash up. the air in the village was cool and fresh, and i filled my lungs with the bounty. the dull ache on my left calf remained. bah, it's going to be a lot worse today, Han had warned.
"yesterday, it's just up and down," he said. "today, we'll have to do a bit of hiking. just one mountain to climb. since L's feet aren't good, we'll start out an hour earlier. we'll take about 8 hours or so to the next stop, the monastery."

breakfast of bananas and egg-coated grilled bread

and rested... walked and rested...

and we passed more villages with curious residents

and their huts, buffaloes, cows, cattles...
Han asked if we wanted to see the Padaung tribe, known for their long necks adorned with golden rings. J, L and I refused. we read somewhere that the women from this tribe have been exploited by the tourism industry. many are imprisoned in their villages and made to wear long necks for show to tourists. tourists are charged $3 per photo snapped with the Padaung giraffe women. so, no go. we hate to be irresponsible tourists. we scolded Han for even suggesting anything like that.
anyway, i was feeling tired. but Han pushed me on, holding my hand till we reached our lunchstop at noon.

L's blistered feet were not doing well, and every step was suffering. poor girl. we decided over lunch that she wouldn't be able to continue with the walk. an oxen cart would be used to get her to the next stop. it's a slow and embarrassing ride for her, she said later. for she felt like a spoilt damsel.
the oxen cart driver went "whoooosh, whoooooshhhh", or "ooooh, ohhhhhh" to make the stubborn oxen walk. all the way and i couldn't help laughing. even from afar, we could hear him going like that. different instruction if the animals were horses. it would be "orhhhhh, orhhhhh" or "dawwwwww, dawwwww, minnnnnnnnhhhhh", "tungggg, tunggggg". hahaha, ok these are really useless details, but i thought you might like to know animalspeak. ![]()
on the topic of animals, burmese from the shan tribe are animal-lovers. so much so that most are vegetarians cos they don't have the heart to kill living things.
anyway, the trek after lunch was more challenging. i was too exhausted to snap shots - of two neverending zigzag slopes, of boulders on the streams, of the split mountain - which challenged me physically. without Han and L, i was now in the company of the two fit people - the "Group A". J said "no worries, nila. we'll walk slowlyyyyy. you lead the way."
in burma, levels of ability are classified into Group A, Group B or Group C. A being excellent, B good, C average and below. schools, hotels etc follow this system.
i hate it each time we had to walk downslope because i knew "what goes down must come up". but burmese terrain is never flat. so, too bad for me.
"where's the monastery, Jimmy?" i asked him at around 5pm, after 9hours of trekking.
"not far, 10 more minutes," was his amused reply.
i couldn't see any outline of a monastery. and i was really, really exhausted by then. the last 100metre lap was such an arduous task for me. the task was beyond physical. it was a test of the strength of mind and spirit. i didn't know what came over me but the last hour, i kept thinking about sinking my teeth into a ripe piece of BANANA, not any banana but the succulent one i had the day earlier at the longhouse. it was the sweetest banana i had ever tasted.
i echoed every step i took with faint muttering of "banana", "banana", "banana". if i could have that banana, i was sure i could continue walking for a few more hours. but alas, the banana was nowhere in sight. i pacified myself, vowing to stuff myself silly with bananas once i reached inle lake.
when we finally got there, i saw those last steps... and i just fell to my knees. "i survived, yay!" the two went up before me:
while i rested under shade of the cool bamboo trees, feeling utterly spent

the learning school for young monks

L arrived shortly after on her noisy oxen cart HAHA

time for a shower in the openair bathrooms

we drew water from the well and poured it into the concrete built-in container and showered. i was worried about passing young monks

the toilets are up on the hill

the abbot prepared our beddings for us. this is located in a little makeshift room in the praying hall of the monastery, where a large Buddha statue sat majestically.
the two girls slept first, while i chatted with Han till the lights went out.
i was surprised when he said he had noticed me walking around on the first day in kalaw and thought i was a local. he said "you know what, i think you are very clever, active, and with mannerisms of a child. you're talkative in a good way and i really enjoy talking to you very much."
he said that locals thought i must be younger than 20 years old, which he too thought so initially.
"but after talking to you, i realise, yes, you're an adult".
he kept dishing out compliment after compliment. and i felt slightly embarrassed. anyway, we spoke about other things as well - career, hopes, dreams, among others. he wanted to study Spanish and move to Yangon. trekking was not going to be a long-term career for him.
"why wouldn't you become a monk?" i queried.
"i don't have to answer that question" he said.
"why not? the answer is easy. you don't think you're spiritually strong, and that it is a demanding task. or you feel it's too personal... i just want to know why some burmese buddhists want to be monks and why some don't," i asked.
"you and your tough questions," he said in mock exasperation. "i've donned the yellow robe before. for a short while. i am ill you know. and that's the reason why i can't be a monk," he said, explaining that he used to smoke like a chimney before and the doctor had told him to stop because his lungs were all rotten.
"i've stopped smoking the past 10 years now," said the 33-year-old. "but the after effects... every morning, i wake up feeling dizzy."
we wanted to talk somemore, but the abbot wanted to go to bed. which was a pity, because i enjoyed chatting with Han, too. we could really discuss anything under the sun as long as "it's not religious or political". he said those two were his weakest subjects.
that night, i couldn't sleep well, too. in fact, it was worse than the day before. one, the clock chimes were too loud and it would go "Dong! Dong! Dong!" to indicate every hour that passed. Han's snoring was louder than the previous day. and of course, the low temperature was no good for a tropical person like me.
i was awakened the next morning at 6am by chants of young monks. they would wake up at around 5.30am, wash up and by 6am, everyone would be squatting in front of the altar and chant prayers. they would then go out on the streets to receive alms from the charitable pious Buddhists. people would place food in their black lacquerbowls. they would gather at around 10am and have their meal. monks only eat once a day. they fast after 12pm.
trekking day 3
i felt very fit on the third day. after two days of upslopes and downslopes, the third day was just going down the hills heading towards the lake. and from there, it's an hour boat ride, crossing the lake to the town of nyaung shwe, where our guesthouse is.
i was in high spirits. injured L still had to take the oxen cart with Han, while Jimmy, J and me walked. i sang all those tacky happy songs at the top of my voice like carpenter's Top of the World. J joined me later. she only knew French songs, she said. we sang the few 80s english songs she knew like If Love Is Blind and Sometimes When We Touch.
she was going "Oh my godddddddddd, this is such an old song it's so hilarious. reminded me of those times when i was like 14, you know... first boy, first kiss.. HA HA HA!" she said.
"i know what you mean, you think you found the perfect love and vowed to stay together forever till the end of time!" i said.
it was a nice walk, reminiscing old days.
we asked Jimmy to sing a Burmese song, but he was too shy. Jimmy was such a sweetie, helping us to carry our water bottles even though we didn't have our knapsack on us. we stopped a couple of times, lying under the banyan tree and just letting our minds wander far and away.
later Han and L joined us. Han was feeling bored sitting on the oxen cart for two whole days. as L and J trailed behind, Han caught up with me. from his expression, i knew he wanted to talk in private. he said "these are precious moments" and i said "for the burmese?" and he said "no, precious moments for you and i because time is too short because we'll be parting soon. i don't know when we will meet again. please do not forget me, because i will always remember you", and while he held my hand, he squeezed it and said "you know, i have enjoyed going on this trek because of you. please write to me, i will be waiting for your letter, and looking forward to it. when you're still here, call me."
"nila..." he continued "last night, i couldn't sleep. i wanted so much to continue our chat. i wanted to talk to you the whole night if i could. but the abbot asked for the lights to be switched off. do you feel the same way?" he said.
"hmm, i was too cold to feel anything. it's a chilly night," i said.
"why didn't you tell me? i could get more blankets for you. at the guesthouse later when we part, please do not say goodbye. i don't want to hear that, you hear me?" he said.
he said he didn't know whether he should stay for the night at nyaungshwe or go back to kalaw. i invited him for dinner with me, which he agreed without a moment's hesitation. "ah that's great. i'd go to my aunt's place, take a shower, and meet you at the guesthouse," he replied cheerfully. but five minutes later, he changed his mind. "no nila... the government would question why i was with a foreigner even after the trek's over. they would check, it's going to be hard for me. they would not believe me if i tell them it's just a casual meeting."
"why are you so paranoid? i'm just giving you and Jimmy a thank-you dinner, that's all," i said.
"i trust you Nila... i trust you very much. it's not you, it's the government. you don't know... you're a foreigner. my fear is valid. you said you're meeting Par Par Lay in Mandalay. it's dangerous for me. they will check where you'd gone before, where you're going after," he went on.
"so much of a friend you are. i won't get you into trouble, Han. every tourist visits Par Par Lay, not just me. you'll be fine," i assured him.
"Oh Nila... don't be angry. please forgive me," he said. "please understand me. please don't stop talking to me. i don't want to lose this feeling. it's just..."
so there, for the first time in my life, i couldn't make a friend because the government is in the way.
personal thoughts & impressions
kalaw was one of my favourite places on this trip. the human touch was extraordinary. i also learnt how money's apportioned to trek guides/cooks.
unlike in vietnam where agencies take a huge chunk of trek fees and give a small portion to trek guides, trek guides in burma get the full sum. say of a $10/day trek fee, just $1 goes to the cook, which the guide hires. cooks hope that travellers give them tips. if the trek guide's recommended by agency, the agency gets about $1.
this arrangement, although better than the vietnam's system, is still biased - favouring the trek guides. i think cooks should receive more. afterall, they also walked for three days, carrying heavy utensils and foodstuffs. jimmy, in this case, also acted like a trek guide for us. his only handicap - he spoke no english. but he knew his route very well, and he's also caring and focused. i made sure jimmy was tipped well at the end of the trek. he just did so much for so little.
burma undercover 2005 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>i spent the night after trekking with the two girls, we yakked loads about trekking over dinner. i must say that we had bonded very well over the three days together. on reaching our guesthouse (we shared a triple bed), J went to the market and bought fruits.
"nilaaaa, see what i got here. BANANAS!!! for you! now you can eat all," she said, laughing heartily as she plucked each one and dumped them into a pile on my bed. how thoughtful, she knew i was craving for bananas during the trek.
the following day, they left for yangon. and i was alone again. and funny things happened, a blackout while shampooing my hair at 4am, and the dog panic attack.
let's talk about the dog attack. serve me right for wanting to drink tea after my canoe trip at one teashop at the corner of the river, far end of the village. they had taken so long to make the tea, by the time i was done, it was pitch dark. i thought it should be ok, and i realise that every single shop was close. the only places open were those few sheds selling tea and beer, and everyone walking around were men - drunk and sober. there was a drunkard singing loudly on the lampless street. i quickly walked past him, with my face turned away from him. as i turned into a corner of my guesthouse and walked about 5 steps, a huge pariah dog appeared right in front of my face. i shone my torchlight at him and mumbled some prayers. it worked! the dog started walking away and i kept shining my torch at its face. two local men (not drunks) saw me, and asked me in burmese. i said "DOG". and they said "Daw daw?" i said "Doggg!" and they went "Dork" and then they laughed, amused. they were kind enough to walk the next ten steps with me. i ran helter skelter back to the guesthouse, stepped on my sandal straps and fell face down on the ground with a thud.
the second incident was even more stupid. you see, my cheap watch was spoilt on the third day. and without alarm clock, i was worried about waking up late. i slept very little since. i would wake up every few hours, get out of the room and walk to the reception to check out the time on the wall clock. so, one of the days, i had told the boatman i would meet him at 6am. i jolted out of slumber at 4am and didn't want to go to bed anymore. and decided to take a shower. the light switch was an old one and you had to press really hard to get it to work. so, while lathering my body with soap and shampooing my hair, the switch went kaputt. i couldn't see a thing because my eyes were filled with soap suds. i started groping around in the dark for the switch. i couldn't find it and started yelling. because it was in the wee hours of the morning, everyone's asleep. except the dog, which started scratching away on the bathroom door and yelping. urgh. so, i stopped yelling and continued groping around. having phobia of the dark didn't help as i started imagining ghosts leaping at me. after much effort, i finally found the switch. felt a little sizzle (because i touched it with wet fingers), luckily i wasn't electrocuted. the lights came back on. phew.
anyway, at inle, i found Tou, a boatman who could speak good english (he's a university graduate) while buying some chapatti at aroma indian food. and i was asking him how i could get to the jumping cats monastery cheaply, cos i felt that my guesthouse owner charged too much (please read the section on homepage about this "crazy" guesthouse owner. be wary of her!). so, he told me he would take me to see places i wanted to see (minus the touristy places, minus the souvenir shops, minus whatever touristy crap there was there). but because it was already 3pm, we could only go to the floating garden and take a slow canoe around the little canals to see the villagers until sunset. anyway, the view at inle lake at sunset was beautiful! i wanted to cry witnessing just how wonderful nature is. imagine yourself sitting in the middle of a huge body of calm waters. you look around you, you see faint outlines of rugged mountains. behind the mountains was this silky crimson sheet, which is the colour of the sky. and the only sign of life is just your own breathing. GOD, it was fantastic to feel soooooooooooo aloneeeeeeeeeeee (ok i know the botaman was behind me, nevermind)!!!
when we went around on the canoe, i asked him how many tourists from my country visit myanmar. he said a lot, but are old people on package tours. he said "those are tourists, they come here snap a few shots, eat a lot, stay at nice places and say they have been to myanmar. you are different, i think. you're here not only to see myanmar, but to feel myanmar. am i right to say this?". and i just nodded and said "yes indeed! and therefore could you please show me how to feel myanmar at inle lake?" and he said he said he certainly would.
how many canoes do each family own? at least 3 - one for the husband (for fishing), one for the wife (for her to go marketing) and one for the kids (for school). interesting, they're richer than us - car-driving people! :D
to market, to market
shan market scenes. i took a shot of one games stall and was promptly asked to scram. i was told by Tou that setting up a games stall (gambling stalls) is illegal. if caught, the organisers would have to pay a heavy fine. ah so.
jumping cat monastery & fake monks
boatloads of tourists visit the jumping cat monastery at inle lake every day. here's something i learnt on the trip - locals are very ashamed of the monastery and the monks there. the folks there give buddhism a bad name, said a local i spoke to.
the abbot sleeps all day, the monks spend time teaching cats to jump through hoops when they're supposed to be filling their time studying/learning/praying. and they earn money through tourist dollars. and they feed themselves with good food. boatmen say they always send tourists to the monastery, but they actually abhor doing that.
"i don't know why the guidebooks recommend tourists to go to the monastery. it's an insult to buddhism," lamented one boatman.
this led to the discussion about fake monks. some monks i saw on the streets made me wonder if they're "real" monks. one monk i saw was eating, smoking and chewing betel (i had been told that monks fast after 12pm). another monk filched a first-class seat on the train. and another monk was listening to music, and wearing fashion accessories. it seems like some lazy folks become monks so they don't have to work to feed themselves. and the best thing, they are revered and respected. i felt "bad" thinking like this, but anyhow locals i spoke to confirmed my suspicion.
"yes, nila. most monks are real. but there are fake ones. it's easy to tell. don't feel bad thinking ill of these monks. they're quite a shame to us burmese as well," said a local.
"that abbot at the monastery... he's a lazy abbot. no good," he added.
i visited the monastery, too. and indeed, when i was there, i saw the abbot sleeping. and some devotees were worshipping him while he's in the sleeping state.
burma undercover 2005 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>burma's airport is one of a kind. there's no public announcement system at the yangon airport. announcements of flight delays are carried out with the striking of a bell (yes the type worn by milking cows) by an anonymous bell-beater and display of a placard which says "Flight XX123 delayed". there's only one slow-moving luggage belt.
i expected tight security but no. after picking up my bag, i walked through the gates, without anyone checking my bag and stopping me. the driver from the guesthouse approached me and led me to a rusty car. walking out, i saw men wearing the checked sarong. nobody wore western clothes. virtually all had red-stained lips and teeth.
the car took me to the guesthouse, passing lakes and pagodas. i saw young women and men working on the roads. their faces were black. i had read that some of these people had been taken by the government from villages as slaves and forced to build roads for no pay. after a few months, they're sent back and a new batch of villagers - usually those lowly-educated and poor from remote villages and minority groups - would replace them. later, on the overnight bus trip between yangon and kalaw, i saw the same thing happening. young and old, men and women laying out tar under the hot sun and an official standing nearby, monitoring. how i wish i could speak burmese. i didn't dare take their pictures for fear of being deported. later, the many locals i spoke to confirmed that the practice of forced labour is still ongoing.
another observation that disturbed me was seeing the bad conditions of some roads and yet, plots of land where government monuments were mounted were kept pristine. the lush bushes and grass were trimmed and watered daily (and i bet the statues were polished regularly too). but the roads (even in yangon) were cracked and potholed.
anyway, back to unique features... indeed, every man and woman rubs thanaka paste on their faces. the fragrant thanaka paste acts as sunscreen, compact powder, an adornment for the cheeks. during my trek, i had also rubbed the paste on my face, and i realise how cooling and soothing it was for the skin. the men chew betel a lot and spit everywhere. the streets are stained with red sputum. i was a little squeamish initially but after a while, the ears have grown accustomed to the sounds of "Harkeeepuiii!" and also the phlegmy clearing of the throat. the men get high on chewing betel and chronic chewers chew them by the dozens everyday.
i explored yangon that evening and the day after.
i walked from my guesthouse to sule paya, this pagoda located on the roundabout. there are many indian traders there, selling wares such as clothes and everyday items and foodstuffs like prata. i observed a group of men playing a game of Dam (chess) using bottle caps. and after lingering for a while, they started to chat me up. one man turned out to be from Kuala Lumpur. he's indian about 50 who migrated from malaysia 12 years ago. he spoke to me in Bahasa. i also met a chinese burmese seamstress who started business in yangon just three years ago. i also bumped into the national sepaktakraw team at a teahouse. they told me they couldn't adapt to the environment even though they were there three days earlier because everyone stared at them. i didn't face such a problem, though.
in fact, i kept meeting friendly people. the next day, for example, i went to the harbour and many men asked to be photographed. i was so surprised. they yelled out "Lady lady" to me and when i turned around they gestured that they wanted me to photograph them. they even thanked me afterward. Mr Min, a jeweller, i met taught me how to choose the best burmese jade and the Burmese language. he borrowed a book from a nearby shop and made me pronounce the alphabets.
i also made meaningful conversations with those who could speak english. only the older ones could speak english, those who lived through the colonial times. young burmese couldn't speak english because of government's closed-door policy. after the colonial period, burmese once again becomes the language of instruction at schools. it's quite a pity really. as it is, interaction with the larger world outside burma is limited. inability to speak english minimised contact further.
i had been told how burmese are not allowed to take the same boats as foreigners (foreigners usually take the government-run boats). which is a silly rule because foreigners could approach any burmese on the street for a chat. letters from abroad get checked at random. one man told me his wife never received any letters he had sent to her while he was working overseas. letters with foreign stamps are viewed as "threats" to the government and promptly thrown away.
a security guard i met, Mr Vee, 55, said he used to work with the government when he was younger. he was assigned work in the north. his mother was ill so he didn't want to leave her alone and so he quit. Mr Vee expressed desire to leave the country for a long time. he said many Burmese in Yangon are offsprings of immigrants from neighbouring countries - India and China. Mr vee's own gradparents hailed from kerala, who entered Burma illegally many years ago. any burmese who wants to leave the country must have USD5,000 in the bank. he didn't have the sum so, he couldnt leave. the burmese are imprisoned in their own country. anyway, Mr Vee is plotting to leave - illegally.
i come to learn that burmese are very friendly and charitable people. i was enjoying a book and a mug of latte at one yangon cafe when outside the glass window, i spotted a young girl - a postcard peddler - having a meal of plain instant noodles. she saw me observing her relishing her humble fare with delight and grinned. she offered her bowl to me, meaning to ask if i wanted some. my heart melted at her generosity. i shook my head. later, i ordered fries and gave the packet to her as a present.
in burma, you leave your bankbook behind. ![]()
shwedagon pagoda
Shwedagon is the oldest and mightiest of Buddhist fanes, and draws pilgrims from near and far to worship at its sacred base and to remember the Great Teachings of the Buddha as they repeat; "Anicca, Dukkha, Anatta " All is Impermanence, a source of discontent, with out any unchanging soul or ego ". "Shwe" means gold and Dagon is a former name of Yangon. Hence, Shwedagon means the golden pagoda at the city of Dagon, It is believed to have been built nearly 2600 years ago, that is, during the Buddha's life time. The Shwedagon is the holiest place of worship to Buddhists all over the world and practically the whole complex is a work of art.

i chatted with this monk for an hour. he gave me a crash course on life of a monk, buddhism and meditation, and about doing things in moderation and how to forget worries and achieve peace and calmness, in mind, body and spirit.
"everyone has many "klings" in their heads - or worries. like for you nila, you're here alone. but you're not exactly free. you think about your home, your work, your family... so meditation is good. sit down, keep your body straight, and your nose pointing forward. and listen to your breathing. and shut everything out. it's difficult, but you do it slowly, soon, you'll feel calm," he said.

after meeting the monk, i stumbled upon a toddler. i sat down for a while, and the mother came along. i ended up sitting and putting him on my lap. and we played! soon enough, a crowd of western tourists started snapping pictures of me and the boy! maybe they thought i was the kid's mother/sister. so embarrassing.
burma undercover 2005 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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]]>my trip in summary
just one word: UNFORGETTABLE. :Di thought i would never be able to step into this country, especially after facing the initial visa problems. that ironed out, i was glad to have made burma a destination point. it's not so much the sights and sceneries - which are very "basic". i'm sure the alps boast better-looking mountains and south africa, better-looking animals. but what makes burma a unique destination is its people, and of course, the Buddhist religion and the military government which influence their way of life. you might want to read The Burman by Shway Yoe to understand the psyche of the Burmese citizen.i went to Burma not to see its well-known pagodas and stupas. i wanted to talk to people there. upon reflection, i realise i had skipped so many attractions. i only went to shwedagon in yangon. and mingun and u bein in mandalay, and less than 10 of the 2,000 pagodas in Bagan. but i didn't feel that i had missed out on anything. after all, there is only so much ruins, caves, waterfalls i can take. and a burmese waterfall couldn't compare with the great niagara, so no loss there.it's the people that make Burma special. i was glad to have chosen to visit those towns i did. honestly speaking, if you talk about "attractions", you could complete going around kalaw and hsipaw - my two most favourite places - in half a day. and if you're pitching your excitement level on the attractiveness of the locations, you're going to be sorely disappointed. i mean, what is so interesting about visiting a cheroot or bag-weaving factory. yawn, they're a complete bore. and not to mention, highly touristy.what's exciting, really, is going into a teashop and bumping into a local who would chat with you for hours and later take you home to visit his family. what's interesting is going into a school and playing catch with the little kids. what's unforgettable is putting on a longyi, just like the locals do, smearing thanaka paste on your cheeks, carrying a shan bag over your shoulder and then sitting with them at the markets and offering to babysit their little boys and girls. go trekking, have dinner with the local families, sleep in monasteries... those were the things i did which i so enjoyed.every town offered a unique adventure for me. but the greatest adventure for me was in mandalay, when i used all the heavily-guarded "back gates forbidden to foreigners" to enter the places of interest, just to avoid paying entrance fees. don't play with fire, they said. but played with fire i did as i sneaked past soldiers armed with rifles.i miss my newfound friends in Burma. and i know i will definitely visit this place again, just so i could soothe the ache in my heart.
media in burma
according to Reporters Without Borders, which published the first worldwide press freedom index in October 2002, the five countries with least press freedom are North Korea, China, Burma, Turkmenistan and Bhutan.i had difficulty finding newspapers there. it seems that nobody bothered reading the papers - er, i wouldn't be bothered too if i was burmese. but i really wanted to know how contrived the content was. i managed to find them at a guesthouse and a local tidbit shop - The Myanmar Times, a government-affiliated weekly newspaper and The New Light of Myanmar, a local daily which is propaganda machine for the government.flipping through the pages of the thin, rough paper of New Light (it's rougher and thinner than the worst-quality toilet paper), i was aghast to read the page one articles, which were just announcements. typically every paragraph begins with description of an event (example a golf game taking place somewhere). the second paragraph describes the burmese dignitaries there. and that's it. no quotes from anybody, no colour writing, it's even more drab than the most boring government press releases.The Myanmar Times is better, in paper quality, colours and content, but government worship remains a distinctive feature. the copy that i had had an interesting article on democracy. i've scanned here for your reading pleasure.
three-week trip: some FAQs
how long to stay?
with a visa, you can only stay in burma for a maximum of 4 weeks. three weeks is good. if i had more time, i would stay longer in kalaw (nice cool weather) and hsipaw (more laidback) and mandalay (i didn't spend enough time with the moustache brothers and ko shwe, the motorbike man). bagan is too touristy.
how much cash to bring?
for lodging, food, transportation, massage, i spent US$350 in three weeks (sans shopping). yes, it's achievable, if you're on a tight budget and not inclined to shop. BUT i did shop. haha. so, i spent another US$150 on oil paintings, shan shoulder bags, lacquerware, souvenir tees, longyi sarongs, and jade bangles. so, i spent a modest US$500 in total. but, let me put a footnote here: i look burmese. so, i did not pay entry fee to visit the palace and see all the pagodas in mandalay, nor did i pay entry fee to the caves in pyin u lwin. i simply jumped on a motorbike and pretended i was a local and no military official stopped me from entering. and locals spoke to me in burmese. i only paid the entrance fee into bagan and the only reason i had to do that was because i was with western tourists on the boat and spotted with my huge travel backpack. so, if you are blonde with blue eyes, please carry more cash. :D
what's the weather like?
late feb-early march, it's hot, dry and dusty in mandalay, bagan and yangon. think 37 - 40plus degree range. i fell sick in mandalay because of the heat. also, burmese chew betel nut and spit all over the place so, the air's not very clean. kalaw is freezing early mornings. hsipaw, kalaw and pyin u lwin are cool in the mornings and evenings (but still hot at noon). there's no rain so don't have to bring a poncho.
gifts to locals
burmese are charitable people and they love to give, even the poorest. it's good to bring little somethings for them. thoughtful gifts include earplugs for the speedboatmen, stationery for teachers and kids, cosmetics for the women and tees for the men. many self-medicate so, medicines are welcome. ointments for insect bites, iodine for falls, cold/flu tablets, paracetemol, bandage... all these are useful.
internet/phone/fax/email/post
forget phone and fax. it's expensive. the going rate is US$10 a minute and they will try to connect to china before connecting to elsewhere. it's unreliable. for email, take note that online.ie, hotmail, yahoomail, gmail are all banned. the one which works is
lissamail.com
i found a way of beating the system. first, log on to these sites: www.pureprivacy.com or www.anonymization.net and key in www.mail.yahoo.com or www.mail.online.ie ... heh heh, the anonymous surfsites would take you to the banned sites. i only learnt this from some mandalay local hackers at the later part of the trip *frets*try to post everything from yangon. 75% of post sent from bagan to elsewhere in the world doesn't get to the places intended. also, if you're planning to keep in touch with locals there, be aware that letters are checked at random. a local told me that when he was working overseas, his letters to his wife never reached her. so there, the sad fact. ![]()
what to pack?
things that i brought along and which were useful to me there: torchlight, candle, lighter, sturdy sports sandals (you can trek with sandals on, no problem), jacket (for cold places), travel detergent, rash powder, plaster. things that i should have brought along but i didn't (and punished for not): lip balm (my chapped lips bled and swelled), moisturiser, light long-sleeved top (for trekking. now i have blistered arms with peeling skin), cough syrup, compeed.
will you fall ill?
the answer is probably yes during the hot and dry season. i didn't get any jabs, but i already had thyphoid and fever jab early this year. and yet, i still fell sick near the end of the trip. taking the boat from mandalay to bagan, i saw so many sick tourists. sniffles, sneezes etc. i was ok at cooler places like hsipaw, kalaw, pyin u lwin, inle. but mandalay, with its dusty roads and hot weather, battered me. i developed the most horrendous TB-like cough (still having one now) and runny nose. i did carry paracatemol and antibiotics but they weren't enough. i should have brought cough syrup along, too. and of course a mosquito net. i had sleepless nights because the mosquitoes kept biting. if they didn't, they would hover around the ears making annoying buzzing sounds. they really tested my patience. it's strongly advised to carry a medicine kit. anyway, you could always give them away to locals since many self-medicate.
burmese massage - good?
unfortunately, no. i indulge in traditional asian massage sessions at least once/twice a month. of the many asian massages i've tried, i rate thai and indonesian ones highly. thai and indonesian massages require special skills and step-by-step techniques. in burma, i went for four massages (about 2,000Kyats per hour) at four different places and none was satisfactory. pummels were so light i felt nothing. when asked to press harder, it's a lot of pinching at the wrong spots which bruised my skin. i have a high treshold of pain and indonesian urut strokes along the muscles could be very painful but at the end of the session, the body felt relaxed and pleasured. but it's not the case for burmese massage. for massage virgins or westerners who want to try asian massages, i recommend thai or indonesian ones. go get one in bangkok or java.
planning your route & getting around
I travelled by road, rail and boat. Flights are too expensive, some over US$100, which is way beyond my budget. Take note that rail and boat services are government-run, which may not be a good thing.If you're planning to trek (which I highly recommend), do the trip in the anticlockwise direction, like i did. Three-day treks from Kalaw to Inle is below US$10/day, but from Inle to Kalaw, it's three times the price. You're basically doing the same 40km route. It's also easier to get from Yangon to Kalaw than anywhere else (as you will need to spend more time connecting buses etc etc
My route:
Yangon (noon) -------- overnight bus (16 to 18 hrs) ------> Kalaw (4am)
Kalaw ------ three-day trek --------------> Inle Lake
Inle Lake (Nyaung Shwe) (6pm) ------> 45mins to Shwen Yaung by cab ----> transfer to overnight bus (10hrs) --------> Mandalay (3.30am) --------> transfer to shared cab (5hrs) -------> Hsipaw (10am)
Hsipaw (9am) -------------- train (8hrs) -------------> Pyin U Lwin (4pm)
Pyin U Lwin (3pm) ---------- shared cab (2hrs) -------> Mandalay (5pm)
Mandalay (6am) ---------- boat (10hrs) -----------> Bagan (5pm)
Bagan (3pm) ---------- overnight bus (13hours) -------> Yangon (4am)
Buses
Roads in Burma are underdeveloped but still better than roads in Laos (near Loang Namtha area in the north near the Chinese border). then again, these are well-trekked routes. The agents try to pack as many people on the overnight buses as possible. Don't be too hopeful about the aircon on "aircon buses". Buses also play loud, tacky dance videos (think Michael Jackson & Madonna's Papa Don't Preach dance moves yonks ago) and awful Burmese-dubbed English pop songs (like Mr Big, George Michael) blared till late at night. Good luck to you if you end up sitting beside a man who is an ardent betel chewer (like me). You worry whenever he makes the spitting sound and you worry about the plastic bag containing his red foamy sputum which he loosely hangs from the seat handle. Earplugs and inflatable shoulderpillows are useful in such situations or simply grin and bear it.
Buses stop for toilet breaks twice or thrice. Squat toilets at the foodstalls are usually clean. A bucket of water and scoop are available so you can wash yourself after you're done. In the guesthouses, a waterhose is usually attached near the bowl. the only time i didn't heed the call of nature was the the trip from Bagan to Yangon. on that particular trip, somehow every passenger had the urge to shit. since i was the last one to get down the bus, i didn't know what would be waiting for me in the loo. so, i suppressed the whole 13-hour journey. Journeys are long and sometimes buses break down. The most horrible ride is between Inle Lake and Mandalay, where you will find yourself jerking forward for hours and slipping off the seat. But buses are a cheap way of getting around - between 5,000Kyats and 7,000 Kyats (US$5-US$7) from one town to another.
Shared taxi
Faster than the bus, but slightly more expensive. it's about 10,000Kyats from Mandalay to Hsipaw but i bargained to 8,000Kyats. expect to pay 1,000Kyat more to sit in front. But the back is fine as well, if you don't mind squeezing with three other people, usually Burmese men. they're small-sized so there's no cause for worry. if you're the only girl, the last burmese man will be gallant enough to move to the boot and sit together with the baggage. such sweet people they are. taxi drivers drive very fast and in a zigzaggy manner. expect some bumps on the head.
Train
The only train ride I had taken was from Hsipaw to Pyin U Lwin (first class costs US$4). i was glad to have done so. although it's a slow and rickety ride, it's scenic. with fields and buffaloes and wooden huts, and of course a fine view of the Gokteik Viaduct, that famous plunging gorge.
Boat
The only boat ride I had taken was from Mandalay to Bagan. slow, and nothing to hoot about really. you could skip the boat ride, it's expensive, too - US$16. but at least you could sleep on the boat ride since it's not as rough as the road journey.
where i stayed & reviews
i have decided to remove this list from this site. i could be tracked, silly me! in burma, you have to fill in your personal details every time you check into a guesthouse/hotel. so, you could email me if you want the list of accommodation places.
burma undercover 2005 remains copyright of the author jalanjalan, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.
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