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Published: January 24th 2013
12 January 2013
After a long day on the Irrawaddy river with a boat full of older package tourists, we arrive in Bagan, to a fanfare of taxis, busses, horse carts and begging children. The first thing we notice is the dust. It is as fine as talcum powder, pink talcum powder; and is all pervasive. Sinuses ho!! The second thing we notice is the beggars - always a sign that someone has been there before you.
Bagan is firmly on the Burma tourist trail. It must be the top contender for most visited of the big 4 (Yangon, Mandalay, Inle Lake and Bagan). It is a bit of a shock to us after our gentle introduction to the country.
Fortunately (in hindsight) we didn't manage to get a hotel room in any of the towns which make up the "Bagan Archaeological Zone" as everywhere we tried and could afford was fully booked. We were staying in a hotel about two miles from Nyaung U, towards the airport. Again fortunately, we like a good walk!
The Green Land Hotel is nothing to write home about, but as usual the staff are lovely and at least it is
Forest that was
We saw far too much of this. clean and quietish except for the pitter patter of tiny feet in the middle of the night. After checking in we walk into Nyaung U town by torch light to hire bicycles. We must have about 5'offers of lifts on the way. In fact I think every car that passed us stopped to check that we were ok! Im not sure if this has to do with the massive "Take Care the Tourist" billboards we see everywhere, or if the Burmese are just genuinely kind and generous. I think probably the latter.
Anyway, Bagan is quite amazing. The Bagan Archaeolgical Zone, as the government calls it when they make you fork out US$10 which goes directly into their pockets and not to the communities here, is an area of about 26 square miles and comprises three main villages: Nyaung U, Old Bagan, and New Bagan; and the vast dusty plain and some smaller villages between them.
Nyaung U is the transport and restaurant hub ( it has a "restaurant row" to rival Camps Bay strip in Cape Town!). Old Bagan is the original fortified town around which it all began, and New Bagan is the town where people
Teak and temples
more forest that was who lived in Old Bagan were forcibly removed to by the government in 1990. There are several versions of this story which are probably all tinged with a little bias so enough said except that there was much resistance to the move to a peanut field down river...
The thing that makes the area a little bit special is the over 4000 Budhist temples, in varying states of decay or dubious restoration, which are scattered across it. It is quite an unforgettable sight to stand on the top of a crumbling temple and to have a 360 degree view of pagodas, stupas and all manner of other religious structures clustered tightly together all the way to the horizon. Add to that the dust in the air and the smoke from cooking fires at dusk and dawn, and you have the makings for a sunset straight out of a kitsch 1960s Hollywood western, just add stupas. Seriously though, it is gobsmackingly awesome!
The temples were commissioned by a series of kings who ruled from the area between about 900 - 1200AD and many date back to at least the 12th Century. Some still have original bits of fresco paintings
bridges over the river
Irrawaddy between Mandalay and Bagan and plasterwork; but most have been through centuries of neglect, some not-so-Unesco World Heritage condoned restoration works, and several earthquakes. It is all still a bit controversial as to whether the site should be given World Heritage status. I can understand the concern, but I love that you can watch farmers with their carts and ox drawn ploughs working the fields between these monuments, growing peanuts, sesame and beans as they have for hundreds of years. Yes, the restoration process has been dodgy, but I think that these structures have been undergoing "restoration," dubious or otherwise, since they were built and that in some ways a living monument is better than a dead one behind a fence. What I cannot understand, however, are the new buildings which have been built on the site. The massive and gawdy Archaeological Museum in Old Bagan, the Bagan Palace reconstruction which is reminiscent of a Disneyland themed attraction, and the hideous and incongruous lookout tower near the golf club. These are all money spinners for government and friends which we wouldn't visit, but they blight the idyllic landscape!!
We start every day with breakfast on the roof terrace of our hotel, from where
we watch the dark crimson Balloons Over Bagan hot air balloons drift gently across the plain. Then onto our bikes. Mine is a rough and ready, used to have gears but now stuck on one cog, fat wheeled, silverusty-ish, trusty mount. Andrew changes his daily in search of the perfect pedal power, but is sadly disappointed every time - what can you expect when you're only paying £1.20 per day on the rental?!
Bikes are the best way to see Bagan, but you have to be at least a little brave to tackle the sandy tracks, and sometimes the thorny bits between tracks. ( Actually in our case it was more thorny bits than sandy tracks in an attempt to escape the crowds!!)
Anyhow, our mission becomes to find the perfect temple to climb to the top of, which no one else knows about. This is no easy feat. Although the tour bus, taxi and horse drawn carters can only really access the temples near the roads, there are a multitude of happy off road explorers like ourselves who are on the same mission. You have to start out really early, and even then, you are bound to
find a painting seller in even the most remote temple by the time you get there. For information about tourist free temples, secret staircases, unknown passage ways, you end up having to buy a sand painting which you don't want, and we end up with three. I will have to turn them into cushions for our house one day - what more can you do with three identical and oddly coloured paintings of the Buddhist weekly calendar? (There are actually some really good paintings to be had of mandalas etc. but they are too big for us to carry home and are not on offer by the information suppliers).
In one temple we come across another bettlenut-stained-toothed young man who is selling paintings. We pull out the three we already have to discourage him and he gets it. He laughs and asks us where we are from. How long have we been in Bagan? The standard conversation around here. Then he pulls out his collection of foreign bank notes to show us. He has quite a collection! Even a note from Central African Republic! We give him a Thai bill, as he doesn't have any, and also an SA
beautiful smile
Vendor on the river greenie. But he sees the SA blue note and really wants that one. "We need it," we say. "What is it worth?" He asks. "About US$3,"says Andrew. "I'll give you back the ten and buy it from you," He replies. "No, we need it for when we go to SA." He pulls out a pristine US$3. "I really want the blue one, please! It is very beautiful. Not to give, to buy!" What can you say to that?!
Saddle sore after two full days of Tomb Raider explorations and eye sore after taking about 50 million photographs - just wait - we decide to visit a small village in the area known for its family run lacquerware manufacturing studios.
Myinkaba village is tiny but full of talent. Just about everyone who lives here is somehow involved in lacquerware. We start with the bigger studios with the really good stuff, 14+ layered pieces, antique pieces - unfortunately this is only for design research. They are pricey and too large to take with us on Air Asia hand luggage allowances. I hope that one day I'll be able to come here and buy for clients. The antique pieces are really
laundry drying
life on the Irrawaddy stunning. The traditional amber and orange colours are right up my alley.
Then we walk into the village where we meet Mui Mui at the well. Village wells are great places to make acquaintances. She is on her way to take some newly made lacquer and palm decorated painting cylinders to her aunty's stall at the market. Hmmm, we need one of those!
We get chatting and she shows us around the village, then invites us to her house for tea. Mui Mui's house is a 3x5m bamboo and palm hut on stilts, with what looks like a very leaky palm thatch roof. She rushes in to do a quick tidy before letting us in. She lives here with her husband, their two year old daughter, her mother and her sister. We get treated like old friends. She brings us tea, coconut cake, fried tofu and fruit. Here we are again with somebody who has nothing, but is willing to give everything, including her time to show us her world. She is lovely and very serious.
Her sister is sixteen and is getting ready to go and sell the family-made wares at the market, too. She and
in case you didnt get the message yet
another teak carrying barge on the Irrawaddy a friend are applying Thanaka to their faces and we talk about boyfriends, makeup, school and work. These young girls are surprisingly sensible. No, no boyfriends because they don't want babies ( not yet anyway). School yes, but it is expensive and they need to work to pay for it. They do not have the monastery schooling option here. I enjoy watching them giggle and put on their makeup. Takes me back to my own sixteenth year.
After tea Mui Mui takes us to where her brothers work at making the palm and copper wire decorated and lacquered handbags and painting cylinders. We tell her that we would like to buy a carrier for our paintings and she shows us a selection. After choosing one she insists we follow her to her aunty's stall as she wants to give us something. She showers me with bangles and a beautiful black jewellery box and all she asks for in return is that we email her the pictures I have taken. "You are too kind Mui Mui!" But she insists and again we are humbled by these wonderful and generous people. Life here is not about taking and making as much
money as you can, it is about making enough to live and being good. Where did we Londoners go wrong?
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