Post-trip Impressions....

I arrive at the Ayuttaya station with people eating Thai finger foods and snacks in an area just off from the platform. I can't get the song "Last train to Clarksville" by the Monkees out of my head. It seems so incongruous with the sea of brown faces and signs in Thai on the platform. A woman has a handbag that says in English,"Wildness is in my breath". A pre-teen boy walks by with a t-shirt with a large Playboy bunny on the front and "Playboy" embroidered on the back. I seem to be continually reminded of how little our cultures understand each other.
I sit and wait for the train which is supposed to be 40 minutes late. A woman behind me is reciting a mantra out loud from a book. Kids tease each other and take each other's picture with a point and shoot. When the train arrives I get on and sit across from an old woman who only has about five teeth in her mouth. Now I know what people mean when they say "long in the tooth". This woman's lower teeth extend about one inch beyond the gums and stick out of her mouth like fangs.
It's a two hour ride to Bangkok. As we get closer to the city the scrap wood and corrugated metal shanties increase in number. As we enter Bangkok the sun is setting and Prince Palace Hotel rises in the ethereal light behind the squalor of the shantytowns scattered along the tracks.
The latest news from Thailand if you haven't heard is that the Thai Supreme Court has seized the assets of former Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra. The funds were frozen by the court when a military coup took control of the government in 2006. They are only going to seize that portion of his assets which they believe were obtained illegally while in office. Shinawatra is currently living in exile in Dubai and tells his supporters (of whom there are many) that the ruling is a joke and that he has done nothing wrong. There is a warrant for his arrest if he comes back to Thailand. The so-colled "red shirts" are the faction that fanatically supports Shinawatra and protests have been happening on and off for the past few days in Bangkok.But things have cooled-off for the time being and I'm out of here around 1 am tomorrow morning.
When one observes different cultures the ironies - which all cultures have- seem to be among the most prominent of the memories. In Burma it was always strange how all our US Dollars that we used like travelers checks, had to be in pristine condition. If there was an ink mark or a fold in the bill many would not accept it. So you were always paranoid about dog-earring or folding your US bills. But the kyats (Myanmar currency) that was given to you in change often looked like it had been stuck in a blender. All the time I received kyat bills that had holes in it. Bills were often so mashed over that they seemed more like used cleanex than currency.
But the people of Myanmar were great. They were very helpful and always tried to please. They seemed to put up with social conditions - sporadic power outages, roads with very little asphalt and all kinds of bureaucratic abuse by the government. It's the people of Myanmar are number one and the government is definitely eight (shit in Burmese.) Many shied away from expressing opinions on the government for obvious reasons. But I had enough people who went out of their way to talk about government abuse and how the world needed to know what was going on there that I thought it was quite remarkable.
Thailand is a much different country than Myanmar. It's infrastructure and economy are so much better that it there is really no comparison as far as the ease and efficiency of traveling. But Thailand has it problems as I've alluded to: poverty, lack of social nets and government unpredictability. Actually you can almost predict that if you wait long enough in Thailand eventually there will be a relatively bloodless military coup. Seems like that's the way things are done here.
Both countries are rich in beauty, culture, history and friendly people.
And since the sun is setting on my time in Asia - and for some reason the common thread between most of these posts seemed to be sunsets- I'm posting a photo of a Bagan sunset.
That's all for now.

Ayuttaya: Khmer influence in an ancient Thai city

I had planned to escape Bangkok once I returned to Thailand. Three days in the hectic, tourist-jaded, highly commercial capital was not the way to end my time in Southeast Asia. So decide to retreat to Ayuttaya, former capital of Thailand. The main draw for tourists here are the array of ancient temples built between the 14th and 17th centuries. In spite of it being a tourist destination, Ayuttaya does not have near the volume of tourists nor the quantity of tourist-oriented blight of Bangkok.
I'm staying at a place called Promtong Mansion- a very quiet, clean, spacious and quite new hotel with all the mid-range amenities- AC, Cable TV, fridge and private bathroom. No bath but it still has got to be the best deal since the New Park Hotel in Bagan. And best of all there's a swimming pool next door. I plan to take a dip tomorrow.
The city of Ayuttaya is actually an island surrounded by three rivers. It was founded by King U Thong in 1350 AD as the capital Thailand and remained so for 417 years. It was the only internationalized city-state in Asia in the 17th century.
Theravada Buddhism was introduced to Ayuttaya from Sri Lanka. But many of the architectural and even political styles were in and motifs here I can see remarkable similarities to the temples of Angkor Wat in Cambodia.
Ayuttaya's acceptance of the "God-King" -where the monarch himself was viewed as a god- was a Khmer concept.
Since I have just been to Bagan, Myanmar I am making comparisons to the temples there. Both have the heavy influence of Theraveda Buddhism and some animist beliefs. Both were built with brick and stucco during essentially the same time period. But the temples of Ayuttaya are in somewhat worse state of repair. To a certain extent part of their allure lies in the fact that many are crumbling and overgrown with weeds. Still the temples in Ayuttaya are said to represent the broadest range of Buddhist architectural styles- more diverse than Bagan or Angkor Wat.
Though the styles in Ayuttaya vary a lot, the basic elements are included in most of the larger temples. These include the prang, chedi and viharn.The prang is the Thai version of the Burmese sikhara- a corn-cob like tower that is often at the center of a temple. Sometimes there are more than just one prang. The central prang often has three to four porticoes or steps leading up to an entrance. Sometimes the porticoes actually lead up to an altar where a buddha statue sits. Another common element in most temples is the chedi, also called a stupa. These are conical towers that vary in number and size. In Burma these generally have a much broader bell (bottom half of the cone). Thai chedis are more narrow. Temples also uaualy include a viharn or rectangular sermon hall.
Wat Dhamikaraj is a temple that has a row of singha (lions) encircling the principal chedis. Again I recognized the singha as that of some of the ones in Angkor Wat. Some evidence suggests that this was one of the temples destroyed by fire in the second attack of the Burmese on Ayuttaya.
Wat Chai Wattanaram was built relatively late in Ayuttaya's statehood. In that it was built outside the city many feel that it must have doubled as a garrison. Archeological digs have uncovered cannonballs and pieces of cannon destroyed during one of the Burm, later ordered a residential hall be built nearby. He sent his craftsmen to Angkor to borrow ideas from the Khmer architecture.
My personal impression of Wat Chai Wattarnaram was that it was one of the most interesting and intact temples in Ayuttaya. Like many other large temples with lots of prangs and chedis it has become a habitat for a variety of kinds of birds. And one thing one notices at many of these temples is the constant chatter of birds.
But temple-hopping wasn't all I did in Ayuttaya. I got a chance to see some working elephants and to saddle one up. Actually I just hopped on got a few photos taken and hopped off. I opted not to go on the elephant ride. It was little out of my price range.
To sum it up, Ayuttaya was a good way to spend my last days in Southeast Asia. For anyone visiting Thailand who has any interest in it's history, Ayuttaya is a must.
By the way just for fun I just dug up this poem I wrote after my visit to Ayuttaya in 1988. It's called Restoration:

Thailand
outskirts of Ayuttaya
rubble of Babel
decays
while reaching
to grasp
nirvana

Tumble-down
temple prangs
and chedis
shift
to become one
with the earth

Laborers cover
their eyes
from the sunlight-
cover the meaning
with the mortar
of reverence

“Buddha with
bodhi tree
sprouting
where its head
should be”

Meditating
he seems to
smile
though he has
no face
As he offers
though he has
no hand
And I have
received
though I have
no gift

Tomorrow a worker
will snip
the growth-
replace it
with a head
filling in
the past

Ngwe Saung: a quiet tropical paradise

NGWE SAUNG, MYANMAR- February 22, 2010:
"A place of sinking sunsets and tomorrows that never come."
This was the somewhat poetic and affected description from the usually cut-and-dry Lonely Planet guidebook. But that one sentence in a flowery paragraph describing Ngwe Saung sold me.
After the past two and a half weeks of trying to cram in as much stuff in Myanmar as possible, this seemed like a good way to end this trip. Besides it would be a much-needed respite from the noise, grime and bustle of Yangon. The nine hour bus trip leaves at 9pm- so I was told. But the prospect of nine hours in a cramped bus during the hours I like to sleep was a dim one. So I opt for the much more expensive taxi ride. After all it's the end of the trip.
I get a quote for $240 for Friday through Monday- a two day layover in Ngwe Saung. (An earlier quote was for $300 !) Tin Hlaing (who I meet on the street outside my offers to be a guide and arrange the taxi. He says he thinks we should get a "permission" from the Myanmar Department of Travel and Tourism (though no such permission has been mentioned by any travel agency or guidebook.) This is the very flimsy rationale for it. After the devastation caused by Cyclone Nargis in May 2008, much of the Ayeyarwady delta area was closed off to travelers. Now the government supposedly requires that travelers have a permission which allows them to keep track of you. Never mind that hundreds of tourists go to this region every week by bus without any such permission. As with many rules in Myanmar, these are inconsistently enforced. Interestingly though, nowhere on the permission form you must sign does it have any mention of Cyclone Nargis. In fact the most noteworthy sentence in this form (which I'm told is true of most Myanmar forms for foreigners) states that one "assures that I will not engage in political matters" while there. The big scandal after Cyclone Nargis was that the government refused to allow foreign relief planes to deliver aid to over two million survivors left without food, drinking water or shelter. Of course this fact was not lost on the locals who were outraged that government prevented its people from getting the help they so desperately needed. Though I don't know it for sure, I have to imagine that because of this this area was fertile grounds for dissent and that's why the "political matters" clause might be in the form.
Friday morning I meet Tin and his driver and we head off to Ngwe Saung. There is sporadic roadwork being done through much of the trip. Some of the repair work is due to damage done by the cyclone. But not all. Tin points out one area between Yangon and Pathein that was particularly hard hit by the storm. Most of the homes were bamboo huts that blew away during the storm. So new ones have been built since then.The only evidence I can see of the damage is the roadwork being done. Here roads (like just about everything else) are built with very few machines. No gravel spreaders or even wheelbarrows are being used. Work crews of men and women carry baskets of rocks about 2-3 inches in diameter in wide, shallow baskets. They dump them, spread them out , then go back and pick up more. A tedious process to say the least.
After a seven and half hour drive over 175 miles of road we finally arrive in Ngwe Saung. At the southern end of the beach I finally choose my guest house. Shwe Hin Tha is a simple place with clean bamboo huts with porches that line the beach. This is what I came for. It's quite an idyllic setting. The coconut palms rustle in the breeze as the sun beats down. The steady sound of the surf soothes away any tension. I go out for an afternoon swim in the ocean with water as warm as a swimming pool. I can walk out at least 60 ft and still be standing with my head above the water. It's perfect.
The next day I find that most of the tourists at Shwe Hin Tha took a 6:30am bus from Yangon which arrived in about 6 hours. The bus trip ends up costing about $23 round trip if you include the taxi rides to and from the station on outskirts of Yangon. This despite confirmation by three travel-oriented sources in Yangon that the 9 hour, 9 PM bus was the only bus to Ngwe Saung. Two of the sources I asked were travel agencies. One was a hotel that called the wrong bus station. An Italian woman who has lived in Myanmar for a year tells me she has found many travel agencies in the country to be fairly incompetent.(Actually until now I have got goo information from several agencies here.) I just wasted $187 because of the incompetence of some of the bad ones. But I'm glad to be here in this wonderful place and I refuse to let the loss of money ruin my stay.
I give the taxi driver $200 and say they're free to go back to Yangon. If they stayed another day it would've been another $40. By staying another day and taking the bus back, I'll get there earlier in day and save $26. A little late to be "nickel and diming" things but what's done is done.
The next day I do some snorkeling in rather rough waters and decide that body surfing is a more pleasant water sport here. Reading, writing, walking the beach and having a banana lassi drink watching the ocean. That evening I listen to the breeze with bamboo wind chimes clopping in the background and watch the sun sink into the Bay of Bengal. That's why they call this a vacation, right?

Swedagon Pagoda: Myanmar Mecca

YANGON, MYANMAR- Thursday, February 18:
If one has been in Yangon long enough and travels with any of the Buddhist faithful anywhere close to Swedagon Paya (Pagoda) they realize its sacredness to the people of Myanmar. Within 200 yards of a taxi's approach to Swedagon, the driver will pay homage to it. He places his hands together in prayer on top of the steering wheel, bows his head briefly and whispers some words. Swedagon is the most revered Buddhist site in all of Myanmar.
Swedagon Pagoda is on a hill 190 ft. above sea level and on a platform covering 12 acres. The gigantic, gold-plated stupa (cone-like structure) rests on a plinthe (base) which is 21 ft above the main platform. The actual stupa rises 322 ft. above this base. The stupa is topped off with the hti or the multi-tiered golden umbrella.The vane at the top of the hti gold and silver plated. It has 1100 diamonds along with other precious stones. This is topped by a golden sphere containing 4351 diamonds. The main stupa is encircled by a myriad of stupa altars that face outward toward the main platform. There is a large pavilion or worship hall facing outward for each of the four directions. Each of these lead to an entrance hall with a series of multi-leveled roofs, each getting progressively smaller as it goes up. The golden trim on these roofs has reliefs with intricate designs. All around on the main platform are other smaller stupas and small pagodas in varying similar styles.
Archeologists say that the original Swedagon stupa was built sometime between the 6th and 10th centuries. Legend holds that it is 2500 years old. The stupa has had various forms over the years. It has had multiple layers and repairs due primarily to earthquake damage. Each year the stupa is regilded with thousands of one foot square gold plates. When I visited the first time upon arriving in Myanmar, the bell of the giant stupa was covered with bamboo scaffolding. Two and a half weeks later now, the scaffolding is gone and a new layer of gold plates adorn the stupa. It is nearing 5:30pm as the suns starts to set around Swedagon. This is one of the most popular times to visit. Tourists and locals with families wander around the main platform. The faithful bow before the stupa or participate in various rituals in the shrines around the base. As the sun sets, the floodlights directed at the stupa from all directions turn on. The small shrines encircling the stupa emit an eerie green glow from the florescent lamps inside. All the while an elder monk's mantra is broadcast throughout the temple grounds through large megaphone-like speakers. Each night Swedagon embodies the some of the most important values of Myanmar culture- family and reverence for the Buddha.

Inle Lake: Life on the Water

NUANG SHWE, MYANMAR- Thursday, Febrary 18, 2010:
Inle Lake is an area located almost directly in the center of Myanmar. Nuang Shwe is the closest town that caters to travelers. I get a room at the Teakwood Guest House, a friendly place with an interesting layout. It has several small gardens and a communal mediation area near the dining room.
To get anywhere of interest in Inle Lake one must hire out a motorboat. The motorboats are essentially long canoes with a propeller engine on the back. The driver hand cranks the engine and we slowly head out.
Despite having a thriving tourism industry (being one of the top five places to visit in Myanmar) the vast majority of people in Inle lake work as farmers or fishermen. The first stop we make is at is appropriately a farmers' market. The markets rotate to a different village every day throughout the week. This one is in Mine Thauk.
Jewelry and dried goods are also sold at this market. There are many fruits and vegetables that aren't familiar to me. I find that in Myanmar (and other Southeast Asian countries) vegetation from plants not typically used as food in West is eaten here.Sometimes this vegetation is also sold as offerings to Buddha at the local pagoda. But many types of vegetation- cucumber leaves, pea leaves and some types of morning glory- are used as a food source. Dried fish is a popular item as well. There are also curds, candies, desserts, curries and spices .
Out on the lake the Intha people use flat-bottomed canoes propelled by a single paddle. In a unique balancing act, they use one leg wrapped around the oar while the other remains standing on the stern of the boat. The oar dips, pulls and winds in a rhythmic fashion. These boatmen are fishermen who seem to spend their lives almost completely on the water. Before fishing they beat the water with the oar several times- presumably to scare the fish to the surface. They then take a large, conical bamboo basket and submerge it upside down on top of the aquatic weeds just below the surface. Next they use a long, trident-like skewer to retrieve the fish emerging from the weeds. Some of the fishermen used nets as well.
People also live in "floating" villages on the lake. Actually these are bamboo houses supported by stilt-like posts anchored to the lake bottom. The houses are arranged in blocks with canals serving as the "streets" much like a neighborhood on land.
Out on the lake there are also all kinds of local businesses. There are jewelers and silk-weavers where the handicrafts are made on-site. Restaurants and hotels with great views of the sunset are also on the lake. This may sound like a sort of commercial blight that is taking over the traditional people's culture. Actually all of these businesses(many run by people from local ethnic groups) fit in surprisingly well without the neon, bright lights or modern structures that often come with garish modernization.
In the afternoon we head to Inthein, a village in the southwestern part of the lake, Inthein is also one of the villages used for the farmers' markets. But the main reason to visit here is the ruined stupas from the 17th and 18th centuries- though they seem even older. There are several areas with pagoda ruins. The complex on a hill that I visit has a very otherworldly feel about it. I take photos of partially toppled stupas as the sun begins to set. There are intricate reliefs with divas and peacock motifs. Devas or chinthe (griffin-like creatures) guard the pahto (or shrine) entrance. All are in varying states of disrepair.
Back on the boat we patrol the floating gardens of Inle Lake as the sun sets. These gardens were devised by the ingenious Intha people. The garden beds rest on mats which float on the waters surface. Tomatoes, squash, onions, cucumbers and other vegetables are grown this way by the Intha. The gardens are accessed by canoes through narrow canals between the beds.
As we head back across the lake, fishermen on their boats are silhouetted against the sun which sinks into the mountains beyond the lake. The driver turns off his motor and we watch the orange disc disappear. The lake chills off quickly when the sun goes down here. I put on my hoodie and we speed back to Nuang Shwe.

Trekking to Kalaw

A three-day trip in two days? The woman at Thu Thu Travel says if I go on this trek I can share the cost with the people who requested it. They are a Belgian couple, Francis and Rhea- a pair of friendly, optimistic, low-budget backpackers. They tell me they try to travel somewhere in the world every year for about 3 months.
The trip is an Inle Lake to Kalaw trek. Most trekkers start in Kalaw and go to Inle Lake because there is more downhill that direction. We are going the opposite direction. After two and a half weeks of travel and twice that without any real exercise, I have some qualms. But I will only carry my day pack and it's just for one night. The overnights are in either a local house or monastery. Blankets and pillows are provided.
I decide to go for it. The next morning the three of us and our guides take a motorboat across the lake. We are headed to Than Taung, a village on the west side of the lake. Inle Lake has no distinct shoreline. Instead the marsh vegetation just gets thicker as one nears dry land.
We pass large gardens of vegetables in which the beds exist as islands and the "paths" are canals traveled by canoe. The canal we are in bottoms out somewhat prematurely because the water is especially low in the lake this year. We are at the trailhead. (See Inle Lake post for more detail.)
We set out walking the berm paths between rice paddies. These berms are the "seams" in a patchwork of fields varying in size and crop type. Eventually we hit a wider trail leading through the shade of 40 foot stands of bamboo. Through occasional clearings on the trail we can see patches of cropland stretching across the Inle plain. In a shallow canal bordering the trail we see an occasional water buffalo rolling in the water.
As we near the village of Than Taung we keep noticing large leafless trees ablaze with bright orange flowers. There are actually two different types of trees. From a distance they look very much alike; both about the same height and same color. But on closer inspection we can see they have very different flowers. The first has clusters of parrot beak-like flowers. It is appropriately named "Flame of the Forest" (Butea mondosperma). The other is called a Cotton Tree (Bombax ceiba) for the white tufts produced when it fruits. Our guide says the pistil, stamen and anthers of this large, tulip-like flower are edible.
A megaphone-like speaker is blasting traditional Burmese music as we enter Than Taung. It seems amazing to me that a place as rural as this actually has electricity. Children are playing in the small, dirt schoolyard. Some smile at us. Others just look curiously.
Further down the road more people are gathering in an open area behind a building. A radio or boombox is playing techno-pop which seems to compete with the traditional music. Our guide tells us today is a ceremony for the initiation of "novices" or new, young monks. Soon we hear the rhythmic sound of drums and gongs. A long line of the Pa' O tribe – with their characteristic red head scarves and black clothing –make their way down a winding path on a hill. Some of the men are beating drums or gongs. They make this ceremonial procession across the trail and into the village.
For lunch we stop at the small village of Nguet. A group of people sit in the shade weaving baskets made from strips of bamboo. These baskets are ubiquitous throughout Myanmar and are used for everything from laundry to produce.
After a satisfying meal of noodle and vegetable soup I ask to use the "restroom". I am directed to the outhouse in the back with a plastic fixture on the floor. These squat-type toilets are typical throughout Southeast Asia (except in businesses that cater to Westerners.) The unique thing about this this outhouse is the door- or rather the lack thereof. Instead of a door there is a piece of sheet metal about three feet high suspended between two vertical, 1 x4 pieces of wood. This is propped up in front of the doorway in order to hide the bottom half of your body from viewers.
Back on the trail we run across several guys who are each hauling two large (approximately 30 gallon) baskets suspended on a bamboo rod which rests on their shoulder. It seems like an incredibly heavy load until we the cargo. In the baskets are roasted, tortilla-size rice crackers. Still these guys are hauling this awkward load up dirt trails in flip flops. We buy a few to lighten their load and give us some energy for hills ahead.
Eventually we come to another schoolyard with children in the front playing. I go for the hard-candies in the pocket of my cargo pants purchased for just this purpose. I hand one out and then the kids gather around me and thrust their little hands at me. I hand out some more candy and take some photos of the kids. Some are wearing thanakah on their faces, the traditional wood-based paste that women and kids throughout Myanmar use for skin protection. Every time we take pictures out here whether its kids or adults, they want us to show them the image on the camera. They gather around and coo and laugh as they see the images on the camera screen.
Later that day we pass by fields where women with bright red head scarves till the fields with large hoes. Out this far there is no electricity and the people work- as they have for centuries- with the light of day. When the sun is up, so are they. We the sun goes down, they head for bed.
We stop for the evening in the village of Khon Hla where D'Nu people live. An old woman with a yellow head scarf smiles from the window of a bamboo house. She is our host. We take off our shoes and socks before climbing the stairs. Our legs and feet are covered with the red Myanmar dust that we've been plodding through for the past eight hours. The children in house look at us for long time seemingly fascinated with…what? Our clothes? Our electronic gadgets? Our white skin? It's hard to say. But it strikes me that they are just as voyeuristic about our lives as we are of theirs.
In the back there is a 50 gallon drum laying horizontally on an old wooden cart. The spigot from the end of the drum empties into a large bucket the size of a half-wine barrel. The water is murky, but it's wet. This is our bathing area.
When Francis and Rhea are finished I go out back with my towel and change of clothes. I take off my clothes. The old woman comes out on the back porch. I am in plain view but she continues nonchalantly with her duties. I splash the water on my thighs, calves and feet trying wash off some of the red dust. The Brahma bull five feet away from me urinates on the ground.
Back inside the house we find our sleeping quarters-grass mats on a hard wood floor. I'm given two cotton blankets and two hard pillows. I arrange the extra pillow, my empty day pack and the mosquito netting I have to act as a mattress of sorts. I lay the extra blanket over this. Fortunately I have brought lightweight long underwear, a lightweight polyester hoodie and a polypro cap. But as the restless night goes on the temperature drops to about 50 F. I am never shivering but I am always just bordering on cold as I cross my legs, keep my arms close to my body and pull the blanket over my head. When the morning comes we are all glad. Though Rhea and Francis had a fleece blanket and shared each other's warmth, they slept directly on the grass mats with no cushion. We have a filling breakfast of tea, eggs, toast and some pieces of something like French toast. Soon we are on our way.
We continue through dry rice paddies and vegetable fields. Farmers use manure for their nitrogen source and ash for potassium. As in other parts of Myanmar fields are often seen with evenly spaced piles of manure and ash. Cultivation and dragging of fields are done with ox and plough. Sometimes the beast pulling a cart or plow is a brahma bull, sometimes a water buffalo.
This area and many parts of Myanmar are very dry. It seems there is currently a drought throughout the country. Sure it's the dry season. It's also true that this area has several plants such as agave which are characteristic of arid regions. But this is an especially dry season. When trees and vegetation die prematurely, the soil has no root infrastructure to hold it in place. We pass several gullies that are becoming alarmingly wider and wider as each successive monsoon rain comes.
In the afternoon we reach the summit over Kalaw at 4900 ft. From there we wind down into the small, trekking mecca of Kalaw. It was a tough two days but we saw part of Myanmar's indigenous country life that we would not have seen otherwise. I was glad for the experience.

Temple-Hopping in Bagan

BAGAN, MYANMAR- Four thousand, four hundred temples are scattered across the plain of Bagan in an area the size of Manhattan. The temples were built over a period of 230 years (from the 9th through the 13th centuries.) This is fairly amazing considering the size and architectural and artistic intricacy of many of these buildings.
I set out around 9am by horse cart. In that my priority is good early lighting for photography with as many temples as possible, I decide against taking a bike. The bikes are one-speed, clunky cruiser-type models that often get bogged down in the sandy areas on dirt roads. The horse cart by contrast, is an open but covered cart with a thick foam pad in the back. With a good imagination, I could picture myself as one of the Burmese kings reclining in my coach, being fed slices of jackfruit as I survey the monuments my slaves have built for me. But I don’t have that good an imagination.
Speaking of the kings who ordered the construction of these temples, many were quite a horrific yet interesting bunch of characters. In fact they were not unlike many of the narcissistic meglomanics who were having cathedrals built for their legacies in Europe around the same time period. The following are some examples of a few of these early Burmese kings. Upon conversion to Theraveda Buddhism, King Anawratha demanded that the monk who converted him hand over the classic Buddhist texts and relics. When the monk refused Anawratha sent an army to the monastery and stole them. He then proceeded to build Buddhist temples. King Narathu decreed that the bricks in his mortarless Dhammayangyi Temple fit together so tightly that not even a pin could pass between them. He then decided that he didn’t want anyone to ever build a temple similar to Dhammayangyi. So he had all of the people killed who were instrumental in its design.
Many of these structures consist of a centered finial or sikhara (a corncob-like tower) surrounded halls on all four sides, each containing a large Buddha statue. Sometimes the tower is a stupa or zedi (a solid, cylindrical cone) and sometimes it is surround by any number of smaller stupas on the corners of each tier of the temple. A few have temples such as Dhammayangyi, almost resemble a Mayan pyramid in their basic shape. Many have some variation on the Indian-influenced sikhara or tower. This is a great simplification for the temples in Bagan are quite diverse in their size, design and detail.
But all of the temples are in varying states of disrepair, as you might think they would be after 1000 years. Some appear to have been almost completely rebuilt with new bricks and concrete. Unfortunately, time is not the only thing that has taken its toll on these buildings. Earthquakes, (especially a 6.5 on the Richter in 1975) have significantly sped up the process of decay. Fortunately though, renovation and reinforcement of the temples have been greatly helped by UNESCO.
So after two days of taking horse carts out the temple grounds, I decide to take a bike. It’s getting close to 4:30pm and I want to get out to the popular Shwesandaw Paya before sunset. Shwesandaw itself is a relatively simple stupa-type structure, but it near sundown it becomes a tourist mecca for the great views it affords. After several wrong turns with helpful locals telling me it’s just down the road, I find what I believe is the right turnoff. It’s an uneven dirt road. I curse as the rickety old bike bogs down in patches of sand as I make my way through the magical, temple-dotted landscape. A young woman up the road carries two full buckets on each side suspended from a bamboo shaft across her shoulders.
“Shwesandaw?” I ask pointing at the large stupa ahead. She confirms I’m going the right direction. I pull up, park and lock my bike and then slowly scramble up the steps. The steps are about 14 inches high (reminding me of my Yangon guesthouse which seems to have used the same architect) going up about a 70 degree grade. It makes Half-Dome in Yosemite seem like a breeze. These steps only have one railing. A terrified-looking, Japanese tourist passes me going down sideways and very slowly. Busloads of tourists are arriving and people are steadily making their way up the stairways on all four sides to the middle and top tiers of Shwesandaw. We all watch as the sun sinks into the mountains behind the Ayerwaddy River. Looking back, I see orange highlights on the already sienna temples spread across the eastern Bagan plain. It’s a perfect way to end a day- my last in the wonder that is Bagan.

The Roads from Mandalay

MANDALAY/BAGAN, MYANMAR- Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Crossing streets in Mandalay one takes their life their own hands. In most of central Mandalay there is a continuous, cluttered onslaught of tri-shaws, bikes, motorbikes and cars every time one ventures out. To be fair, it is very much the same in Yangon. The main difference is that in Mandalay there are few if any traffic lights. The second difference is that in Mandalay everything is more condensed- the buildings shorter and the streets more narrow. One would think that this would be an advantage when crossing the street. But in reality the narrow streets create a blind spot making it harder to see what’s coming up the road. This is made much worse at night time. Though there seem to be street lights in some areas, I’ve never seen them on. So vehicles, lightless bikes and pedestrians share the road virtually blind but for the occasional dim glow of a small roadside shop.
Most people here – whether they drive a bike, motorbike or car- seem to be defensive drivers. But they are not defensive as the vehicle codes in the US might describe it. They are defensive in that drive as if any rules that might exist will constantly be broken. They are driving unpredictably and they know everyone else will be driving unpredictably as well. So traffic is always fluid. Drivers don’t insist or expect rules to be followed. If a bike is crossing in front of you, you just drive around. If a car goes through an intersection, you just drive around.
Another oddity in Myanmar traffic is what vehicles and bikes will carry. Motorbikes will carry plastic pipe- sometimes lengthwise, sometimes width-wise. Tri-shaws will carry all sorts of boxes, truck wheels and miscellaneous supplies in the side seat. A bicycle will carry boxes piled 5 feet tall on top of the rear rack. Trucks piled high with bags of rice will carry workmen and monks on top of their freight. Anything in any amount seems fair game.
The same can be said for the cargo borne on humans (primarily women’s) heads. A small coiled-up cloth atop the head is usually to buffer the load. It is very common to see women walking the streets carrying three foot wide platters of finger foods, fruit or alms for sale. Water, baskets of all manner of things and boxes are also carried this way. On a construction site in Mandalay young women placed a board on top of the coiled up cloth. They then carried bricks three deep and three high on top of their heads and proceeded to carry them this way up a spiral staircase. No, I’m not kidding.
But now in here in Nuang U, all that frenetic pace and craziness seems to melt away. Nuang U is a bucolic, quiet town on the outskirts of Bagan, the largest site of Myanmar’s ancient temples. Horsecarts and bicycles can be seen meandering down the sleepy streets. Nuang U is a unique combination – simple, quiet and tourist-oriented.
I have decided to splurge and take a $15 room at the New Park Guest House. It’s a spacious room- king size bed, wood floors and best of all- a very clean bathroom with bathtub and shower separate from the sink and toilet. This is quite a luxury – even in mid-range priced guest house. Nuang U has many restaurants that cater to tourists. In Mandalay and Yangon I usually chose to go to traditional hole-in-the-wall eateries. But after a tasty but ill-fated trip to one such buffet left me with diarrhea, today I opt for the safe but somewhat bland tourist fare. Tomorrow I venture out to see some of the ancient temples of Bagan.

Masala Yangon....

YANGON,MYANMAR- Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Within five minutes of walking through Yangon one is in little doubt they ar in a truly "third-world" country. Electric cables and phone lines drape on and around buildings like cobwebs. It is a city whose infrastructure exudes entropy. Sidewalks occasionally crumble into rubble and dirt. On many of the older buildings vegetation in the form of ficus and ferns take advantage of every crack and wet spot so that scattered plants can be seen sprouting spontaneously throughout their facades.
The air is filled with an aroma of combined dust, exaust, frying oil, spices and rotting vegetation. As one moves through the everchanging hordes of vendors, the aroma morphs from more fruity to spicey to barbeque and back again. The ears are bombarded by an orgy of music- modern and traditonal, cars honking, vendors hawking their wares, birdcalls and the sing song burmese dialect. And then of course there are the almost ubiquitous generators. Yangon notorious for regular power outages checkered throughout the city. So many shops, offices and hotels have their own generators. Yangon is a city notable for its intermingling of divergent classes, ethic groups and religions. But in the west the secular, white, and commercial seem to dominate the urban landscape. In Yangon, monks are almost as visible as street vendors. They cross the street in their orange-red robes -part of which is often gathered up over their bald heads, protecting them from the noon-day sun if they have no umbrella.
Though Buddhist pagodas are peppered throughout the city, mosques, Hindu temples and Christian cathedrals have a definite presence here as well. There is no separation between the sacred and the profane in Yangon it seems. Pagodas and mosques seem as if they are built on top of shops and businesses. It's hard to see where the actual entrance to the holy place is.
There is a large contingent of both Chinese and Indian immigrants, many of whom tend to dominate the city's commerce. Trying to find a "Burmese-looking person" on the streets is a ridiculous quest- probably next only to trying to find an "American-looking person" in the US. Before Myanmar had large infusions of Indian and Chinese, it was a hodge-podge of ethnic groups. Bamar, Mon, Chin, Kachin, Karen, Naga, Rakhaing and Shan are the dominant ones.
It's seems to be a culture with few of the positive effects of globalization. At every street corner there seems to be a guy sittting at a table with a landline phone. People pay a fee to use these phones just like a pay phone. In many other third world countries many of the poor have cell. Social safety nets are non-existent. People with no legs beg on the street. A man passes me with cancerous growths on his face and neck that make his face appear to be a melting liquid mass.
But being a closed-off society until relatively lately Myanmar appears to have retained much of their traditional culture. Many of the men wear longyis (sarongs) like a long dress for men. Women carry all kinds of ungainly loads on their heads. And the general homongenization of their culture seems much to much much slower than in other parts of southeast asia.
I'm going out now to see the famous Shwedagon Pagoda. Tomorrow I fly to Mandalay in the north. I'lll use that as a base for several days to see things in that part of Myanmar.

BANGKOK, THAILAND - Feb. 2, 2010
I had been flying 17 out of the last 23 hours that I had been up. So I splurged and took the easy $58 hotel near the airport. One king-size bed with A/C and my own bathroom and TV. But even that bathroom still had the shower-merged-with-bathroom so characteristic of low-budget Thai guesthouses. This makes it so every time you go into the bathroom the floor is wet because the shower floor and the bathroom floor are one in the same.
This morning it was 8:30am and overcast and already the margarine with my continental breakfast was starting to melt. I decided to head out to Khao San Road - a hectic, bizarre backpacker (read "low-budget") tourist section of Bangkok. The street might as well be officially closed off to traffic. A few taxis and tuk-tuks painstakingly make their way through throngs of bohemian tourists shopping for cheap clothes, jewelry, bootleg CDs and other fare. It is very much a carnival-like atmosphere. The temporary 'residents' there seem to on one hand, resent other people like themselves and on the other are comforted by the familiar- westerners. At least I don't think I'm the only one here that has that contradictory sentiment. Not a place one wants to hang out for too long. Fortunately I fly out to Yangon, Myanmar (Burma) tomorrow- early in the morning.

Off I go!

So much thought and planning goes into a trip like this that it seems ironic when the moment arrives, you sometimes second guess yourself. "What the hell am I doing! I'm going to a rural country with an oppressive government, where I don't know a soul, 7900 miles away with nothing but a small backpack."
There are second thoughts: the recognition that you're older, maybe less adventurous than 20 years ago and that you're really pushing the edge of your comfort zone this time around. The trick is getting on the plane, clicking the seatbelt and then there's no turning back. Shortly after reaching that "point of no return", if I remember correctly, is when you start remembering why you decided to go in the first place- and hopefully it's when you start having a great adventure.

Map of Burma (Myanmar)

Burma (now called Myanmar) is a southeast asian country to the north of India and west of China, Laos and Thailand. It's population is approximately 47 million.
The main areas on my itinerary will be Yangon, Bagan, Inle Lake, Kalaw, Mrauk U, and Mandalay. To the right is a a map of the region. Click here for a more detailed and interactive map of Burma.