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Published: December 18th 2006
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Kalaw
"Go web go" - spiderman's tricks wowed the locals We leave Yangon on the 12 noon bus, heading off for 16 hours of joy to Kalaw. A steaming hot afternoon where the airconditioner was clearly warming up to finally blast us with freezing cold air as soon as the sun went down ensured a sleepless night, given that our wardrobe had carefully included shorts and Tshirts and not much else (hey we are still in the tropics right?). The temperature at night however can get as cold as about 2 degrees which meant that the occasional tea and coffee breaks were all we had to keep us warm and only contributed further to our insomnia.
4am we arrive in Kalaw (what kind of crazy schedule is that?) and wake up the local hostel owner only to find that the place is a bit of a dive, but we can't bring ourselves to wake up any more locals so bed down for the night in the seemingly sub-zero temperatures in a bed fitted with a single blanket. Fortanately light comes soon enough and we are again greeted with a dry dusty 30 degrees to explore the town in.
We track down the local run Sam's family Restaurant which we
Bus station at Yangon
Wanna buy a premier league magazine in Burmese? Andrew, clearly the only one with cash in the vicinity of the bus station. hear has the best trekking around taking you off the well worn tourist trail to some of the more out of the way villages (they did not disappoint!) They also do a damn good brekky.
Nunnys shoping-radar locates the local market and she is quick to blow the daily budget on some overpriced trinkets, before we get some quality mingling time with all the local village people who have walked into town to pick up the groceries. A colourful scene with bright clothes, many differing patterns of Thanaka (face paint come sunscreen) and a wide assortment of staples and handicrafts to keep a girl amused for hours. Naturally Richards tires of it after about 10 mins, finding every single awning is below his head height and given the heat of the midday sun shade is the only place to be right now, so like the hunchback of Notre Dame he takes up valuable bartering space in the narrow passageways.
We decide that a brief stroll up to the monastry would be a nice way to see the village from the top so climb a thousand stairs, luckily sheltered by a tin roof that kept us rather cool, and
Kalaw
Every self-respecting town needs a pagoda with the occasional seat to rest weary bones (and knees). The monastry itself was pretty bland but we met a nice teacher from Yangon who had come to Kalaw to assist with regional literacy testing and so we had an enlightening conversation about the nature of education in Myanmar.
We made the descent in the shade of a colonial style backside to the mountain where we were approached by some local kids who kept repeating "Hello Goodbye" to us in English (we were later to find out that this was the official term for the transient tourist) before lathering us with flowers/weeds that they'd pick from the side of the road where we stood. Clearly ecstatic at our reaction to recieving these gifts they'd repeat the process until we were laden with native flora and had to beat an appreciative departure, pointing up the road to their mum as the potential recipient for their last handful of flowers.
Winding through the laneways down from the monastry you'd think you were in the British countryside with dainty little flower pots sitting out the front of cottage style architecture. Made it back to the main road where Richards spotted a
Kalaw
Nunny's knees get a well earned break on the steps to the monastry sign proclaiming Richard's Cafe - where surely it would be blasphemy to not stop for a meal. So we popped our heads in to a Swiss? style triangular house (chalet) found in the snow and sat for a lazy afternoon of learning the Myanmar language off Gee Win - a lovely generous girl who soon exalted us to the status of Sister and Brother and later that night invited us back to her house for tea.
We had a brief stroll around the rest of Kalaw - along the ridge that sat at the peak of the hill we came up the night before where we ran into some young boys who were desperate to scare us with the local spiders that were full of colour. After initial apprehension as they looked similar to the Vietnamese one's that had a nasty bite, we were assured through sign language that these posed no threat. Clearly, as the guy was letting it run all over him! Andrew then was exalted to Kalaw hood status as he embraced the challenge much to the amazement of the boy! A brave tourist? We haven't seen this kind of stupidity since the last time we
Kalaw
Andrew is pleased that he can stand up straight after ducking under Myanmar sized stall awnings for the last hour watched Crocodile Hunter... Suffice to say I survived.
A bit more mosying around and we watched the sunset over the hills before returning to Richards cafe for a roast dinner! We were treated to some fine footage of a local fireworks festival (drink some rum, pack a big bamboo log full of gunpowder (smoking cheroot cigars while doing so), do a little dance, climb to the top of a large ladder and set the thing off into the sky - AWESOME!) it was apparently a competition between the local villages to determine whose rocket went the furthest, a decision made by a bloke standing on a hill some 15 km away where the rockets landed.
The question burned: "How many casualties do you have each year?"
"Oh only about 4 or 5"
"Hmm, wonder why"
Unfortunately the authorities have since clamped down on the festival, not due to safety concerns but due to gambling between villagers which was a decidedly unhealthy pasttime.
We rounded of a lovely meal (what more could you expect from Richard's Cafe) with tea at Gee Win's house where she suggested that we should visit her family in Bagan when we went - a
Kalaw
Where everyone gets a bargain! lovely gesture that was cementing the Myanmar people as some of the kindest and most generous people we have met on our travels to date.
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