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April 11, 2006
Extravagant Kings and Outlaw Comedians
As newly converted Buddhists, the kings of Bagan set about the ambitious task of constructing as many as four hundred thousand temples covering a forty two square kilometer area in just over two centuries between 1057 and 1287. The area was abandoned between the fourteenth to eighteenth centuries for reason’s unknown (perhaps fleeing the Mongols) until the British resettled the region. To date, more than two hundred thousand temples remain standing in an area that has been left alone for centuries and more are continually constructed as rich Buddhists try to get a little merit for the after life.
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Sunset over Bagan |
Today Bagan receives the largest number of tourists in Myanmar. For two days we rode bicycles through the stifling heat and dusty landscape navigating around the various temples. From any point within Bagan you can see endless peaks of temples dotting the horizon, but it wasn’t until we climbed up to the top of some that we really were able to appreciate the magnitude of the site. It was apparent that a bicycle would not cover nearly enough ground. For seven dollars, a horse cart picked us up in the morning and for the entire day we visited the major temples and some smaller, less visited ones. The highlight came as the sun was starting to set. We kicked off our shoes and climbed up one of the massive structures, while the sun dropped like a ball of fire in the sky. It was one of the most breathtaking sunsets we have seen, with the peaks of the temples taking on new life where silhouetted by the vivid colours of the sky.
Locals have capitalized on the tourist influx into Bagan with entrepreneurs setting up souvenir stalls at the base of every major temple. The same merchandise was plied by enthusiastic merchants, and in some cases we were invited to trade personal belongings for souvenirs. In addition, as soon as we approached these temples we were greeted by kids asking “Where you from?†which then turned into “You want to buy postcard?†It was a painful task to try and get rid of these kids as they would follow us around with their prices dropping (and sometimes inexplicably rising) in order to make a sale. The vendors and the postcard kids were only a minor annoyance, but what started to bother me were children that would run up with their hands out and say “Hello, shampoo!†or ask for a bon-bon, cadeaux, or pen. I don’t disagree with making donations in countries where the people can’t otherwise afford certain luxuries, but I do disagree with people indiscriminately handing out “presents†to kids because they begin to expect them from all foreigners.
For a city with such an enchanting name, Mandalay doesn’t quite live up to expectations. The city is sprawled out in a busy, dusty grid. Electricity shortages leave most of the streets dark at night, and lack of any sort of decent sidewalk forces would be pedestrians into the street, dodging bikes and taxis in a real life version of Frogger. After one night of weaving through traffic, we decided that for the rest of our stay, we would travel by tri-shaw, a bicycle taxi with a back-to-back, two seater sidecar. I felt guilty as Than Shwe, our driver, struggled to pedal the two of us over the bumpy, cracked streets of Mandalay, moving no faster than walking pace in some parts. While he ferried us around, he talked a great deal about his life in Mandalay, looking over his shoulder and lowering his voice to a hush whenever he would mention his dislike for the government. He was such a friendly guy, that we hired him out for a couple days as our personal driver.
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With the blacklisted Moustache Brothers |
Freedom of speech is a luxury that the people of Myanmar don’t have. This is known all too well by the Moustache Brothers, a Mandalay based comedy team. At an Independence Day celebration in 1996 the troupe took the risk, told a politically tinged joke about Myanmar’s generals, and paid the price. Upon returning back to Mandalay, two of the three brothers were arrested and sentenced to seven years of hard labour. After serving five years chained together, Par Par Lay and Lu Zaw were released, but the comedy team were blacklisted from ever performing in public again. In defiance, the team performs nightly shows in their home for tourists in English, and perhaps because of the valuable dollars that tourism brings to the country, has been more or less left alone by the government. Surrounding a small stage, tourists sit on hard plastic chairs, as Lu Maw (the one that wasn’t arrested) crouches over an antique microphone and emcee’s the one hour event. The jokes are fairly uncontroversial by our standard, but a good display of classic Myanmar dance and history is presented, with all three members of the troupe taking the stage.
Transport in Myanmar comes in many different shapes and sizes, none of it comfortable or easy. The only nice buses between the major areas run during the night. After so many night buses in South America, we have vowed to only take them when absolutely necessary. Therefore it was a long day on the road to reach Inle Lake. We first traveled in an over crowded bus in which we sat with six others on a bench behind the driver, knees up to our chin, unable to move for four hours. From there we transferred to a pick up (a truck where the back has been converted into bench seats) but when we saw the passengers in the back with their knees around their heads, we paid a few extra dollars to ride in the cab with the driver. Comfort was much better, but it was slow moving. For six hours the pickup traveled up a steady incline, bouncing and shaking over a dirt road occasionally dotted with patches of tarmac and stopping every hour to refill the radiator with buckets of water. This part of the journey was only seventy kilometers, which would put us at a leisurely pace of twelve kilometers per hour. Needless to say we were overjoyed to reach our destination.
Like the rest of Myanmar, Inle Lake is scorching hot during the day, but at 875m above sea level, it has the pleasant distinction of being cooler in the evening. Seventy thousand people inhabit the lake and lakeshore. I wasn’t able to get a grasp on what this actually meant until we hired boat for the day to take us around the lake. It was amazing to see that there were literally villages in the middle of the lake, built around floating islands, where houses are propped up on stilts and the only means of visiting your neighbors is to hop in a boat. Pigs are kept in pens on stilts next to the homes, rice and vegetables are grown on floating islands staked to the bottom of the lake with bamboo poles, and fisherman ply the waters standing in their rickety boats using a combination of one leg and arm to row, while the other arm is free to cast the net.
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Talented cats |
Prices for the boat are fixed, regardless of the number of people, so we teamed up with another Canadian for the day and set out directly to the boatmen to negotiate a fare. Unknown to us before setting out, our companion had a tendency to ramble on practically nonstop for hours on end on every subject possible, slightly distracting us from the lake’s surroundings. For the brief moments we were able to escape his prattle, we found our guide to be very knowledgeable of the lake, taking us to areas most tours don’t go and avoiding the major tourist destinations. Instead of a restaurant for lunch, we were taken to a wooden house teetering on stilts where for less than $1 each we ate a delicious Burmese style smorgasbord of fish curry, tofu, potatoes and vegetables. Once again our phrase book proved invaluable in helping us communicate with the family. Our last stop of the day before the sun set over lake was Nga Hpe Chaung (aka Jumping Cat Monastery) where the monks have trained their resident cats to leap through hoops for kibble. Although we made many stops at temples, factories and villages, just the opportunity of being out on the water to witness the timeless village life of the lake’s inhabitants was enjoyable.
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Typical government propaganda |
It is difficult traveling in a country where you strongly disagree with government policies and by merely being there are forced to support them financially. While we did our best to avoid government run hotels and services, it is impossible to prevent some of your money from falling into their hands. Sanctions by the US and EU hope to cripple the government, and certain activist groups urge tourists to follow suit by boycotting the country. The idea behind the boycott is to force the government into reform. Areas that are open for tourists often contain roads or structures built with forced labour, while the prohibited sections of the country are where brutal relocation of minority tribes takes place. There are always two sides to every argument however, and while cutting off the country from tourism may slightly affect the government, it has a negative impact on the people whose livelihoods depend on foreign visitors.
Those we met in the country are happy to see visitors and hope that more will come. It was the locals we met that made the country for us. Every time we would become frustrated with long days of traveling, all we would have to do was wander around the town and our spirits would be lifted by the openness of the people. Whether it was being led barefoot around a pagoda by monks, drinking twenty cent shots of whisky in a small brick bar with guitar playing locals, or listening to the singing of the boys passing us on their bikes, our memories of Myanmar will always be of the friendly people we met.
Posted by brett at April 11, 2006 01:17 AM