A Warning...

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Hi all,

This is my first backdated entry. I apologize for being disorienting, but I'm going to be going back in time, meaning eventually you might get to hear about the start of my trip. Now, I feel it's important to offer you this warning.

At some point in your lives, my dear friends, you may come across a decision that will have you choose between comfort and a 20-hour bus ride. I entreat you. Choose comfort. E and I chose the path of "least expensive" (we usually do), which is how we found ourselves on this stupid bus in the first place. When we booked our bus tickets through the owner at the May Guest House, where we stayed at Inle, we were under the imporession that this bus would be much better than the last, in part because it was an A/C (air conditioned) bus and in part because we now knew better than to trade our perfectly good seats in for seats in the back row of the bus. When we got to the pickup, we saw two other foreigners, a French couple who were also taking the bus to Yangon. For some reason we found some security in the knowledge that we weren't the only foreigners dumb/cheap enough to take the bus to Yangon. Then we looked at our tickets. We were not, as it turns out, on the same bus as this couple. Their bus was called "Hein" while ours had a long, three word name, which unfortunately I cannot remember. Hein arrived promptly at noon and looked amazing. The seats looked cushy and weren't all taken and people on the bus looked comfortable enough to sleep. Also, I'm pretty sure their bus had shocks. Shocks people. Forty minutes after Hein gracefully rode off into the--afternoon sun, our bus (with the long name) came bouncing into view. The road it was on wasn't any bumpier than other Myanmar roads, but I could swear our bus caught air as it came towards us. Now in the 40 minutes since Hein cdrove away in all its glory, E and I had already voiced hatred for our as of yet unseen bus. I believe our exact words on the matter were, "I hate our bus!" (eloquent, I know).

We climbed onto our very full bus that bore a striking and quite honestly uncomfortable resemblance to our last bus and tried to get someone to move so the two of us could sit together. No one wanted to move from their choice window seats so the only two foreigners on the bus could sit together, but fortunately a monk turned and said...something and a woman moved for us. We offered her an orange in exchange.

Now it turns out that the first 6-7 hours of the trip were spent winding in the mountains. It also turns out that a deep understanding of the Buddha and a raised karma such as that of a nun or a monk does not preclude motion sickness as we learned while the monks and nuns in front of us proceeded to get sick in bags that they then chucked out the windows. Always be wary when a bus company offers you as many plastic bags as you want, free of charge. They're not giving it to you because they love you.

E and I deduced that the A/C for our bus did not stand for Air Conditioned as it often does. Rather, it seemed to stand for AIR (not working) and CAN'T (open windows). But that's not all! You know, the great thing about being in a plane is that you can choose whether you want to partake in the provided entertainment or refrain. This decision is made by either putting on or taking off the proffered headsets. Such decisions do not exist in buses. So when the Myanmar film came on, we all got to hear it. Then Transporter came on, which was unfortunate, but at least it was unfortunate in English and at a low volume. After that came a Chinese film, also low volume. I like to think this was done to lull E and me into a false sense of moderate comfort. Then, suddenly, it was 9 pm and Myanmar standup was on. Loud. When I say loud, I mean some of my students (i teach the Deaf and Hard of Hearing) would have complained about the decibel. I tried to tune it out, but my iPod died right then. Of course. So I watched it. Now, I admittedly don't understand any Myanmar, but I tried watching, and it was not so funny.

Finally the film was off and I started to drift into a bumpy, relatively upright sleep. But our adventure is not over yet! No no. The bus stopped suddenly and everyone got off. This is now 11 pm and we are quite literally in the middle of nowhere. An odd place for a bathroom break, I thought, particularly in a country that has more reported snakebites per year than anywhere else. But I went with it and got off the bus, if just for a chance to stretch my legs. But no, we were not at a bathroom break. We were at an in-country immigration stop. Everyone showed their ids and passed through. E and I showed ours, were written down in a logbook and allowed to go.

And that time, we got on the bus and bumped our way to Yangon. Huzzah!

So if you learned anything from this, it is that the 20 hour bus ride is likely not worth the 65 USD you will be save from not flying. Just take the plane. You'll thank me later.

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