That's good - because you look like Michael Jackson....

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We knew travel in Myanmar would be slow and over the next month we were to take that to an extreme - meaning we missed many great sites but met so many amazing people and had such fun that we didn't care. We will be back - although next time maybe we won't take the local ferry in dry season.
Our start in Yangon wasn't particularly auspicious - we felt a bit hassled, whether it was tour guides wanting work (one hopped into our taxi from the airport on the pretext of having missed his bus and then gave us a fairly hard sell), small aggressive boys dressed as monks demanding money with menaces (described as buggahs by an elderly Burmese gent we met - we thought he said Buddhas initially).
We left Yangon hopeful that we'd enjoy Myanmar but probably still in the wrong mindset. We were on our way to Myitkyina in the far north with the intention of traveling back along the Ayeyarwady by local ferry. At Mandalay we planned to take the slow train to the north. However the night bus to Mandalay was full of travel sick monks which must have affected Eric because he spent the next day and night doing a very credible impression of his birth animal - the dragon - while bent over the toilet. A couple of days later he was recovered and we hopped on the night train for the 24 hour (+/- 600 km.) journey - aiming to arrive in Myitkyina the next day at about 2pm. A beautiful experience and we arrived in Myitkyina having seen some gorgeous sights.
We had time to spend just a night in Myitkyina. People still seemed to be celebrating the end of the Kitchin festival and in the afternoon we visited the river bar where everyone was absolutely falling down drunk (at 2pm). At one point one of the young guys made his way along the veranda to us clutching the rail like he was clinging to the deck of the sinking Titanic and proceeded to serenade us with Rod Stewart - 'I am sailing' - very emotionally and very, very badly. Before falling over.
Early next morning it was a fun 6 hour bus journey to Bhamo - a bit short on leg space but with lots of interesting people to talk to which passed the time.
The previous night we had been listening to Paul Theroux who talks about meeting a trishaw driver in Mandalay. They are often very poor he points out - rarely making enough to support themselves or their families. We checked this out and people told us it was true of many trishaw drivers. We didn't usually take trishaws or use guides, preferring to get around on our own steam, using local transport but we decided we would give it a try. It is a way of getting money into people's hands - and not the government's.
This was to change our trip totally. The first, hysterical example of this was on arriving in Bhamo from Myitkyina. On arrival the bus was swarmed with taxi drivers - literally climbing in the windows. Normally we would have walked - it was kinda far but manageable. However we explained we were planning to take a trishaw not a taxi. And for some reason they loved this - bursting into cheers carrying our bags and following us as we walked out the station to the two ragged trishaw drivers waiting by the road. The most weird experience ever. And surely a sign we were on the right track.
We spent 3 days in lovely Bhamo - waiting for the ferry to Mandalay which might never come. It was the dry season and it was not unusual for the ferry to get stuck en route for up to 3 days (on a three day trip). Masochists that we were though we didn't want to take the express boat to Katha (6 hours) but waited for the slow ferry. A day late it arrived but was moored far out of town because of the low water. The wonderful manager at the Friendship hotel kept us up to date with what was going on and before dawn one morning we set off in through the candle lit night market and into the mists to try to find where we could catch a boat to the ferry. A few hours later and a fun trip we made it onto the ferry which was to be our home for the next 5 days (although we didn't know it at the time). The trip was beautiful - and we had so much time to talk to people - particularly since we ended up stuck on a sandbank for two nights.
Those that could speak English really wanted to talk and we learnt so much. Those that couldn't speak English liked to gather round and watch - always ready to smile if you caught their eye and grinned. This could be a little disconcerting - one particular breakfast we had an audience of about 10, but it was just friendly curiosity and people were trying to take care of us. We met some great people, by the end of the trip we had too much food as people kept dropping bringing us things to eat and refusing to take anything in exchange. We were very glad Eric's folks had brought us a load of Dutch postcards- we distributed these and they were well received along with the explanations of skating on ice, windmills and flower fields.
A couple of evenings we pulled into villages and could buy food from the vendors or go ashore - there was one memorable karaoke evening. At Katha we did toy with the idea of disembarking . The only other foreigner on the boat had jumped ship a couple of days ago but he was in a hurry - keen to find new sights to taking photos with his gigantic camera. On arrival in Mandalay we went for some food at a friend's house to meet his wife and daughter - they live in two room hut and as usual the electricity across Mandalay was out. As with many things in Myanmar the home and lifestyle looked poor but idyllic from the outside - the bamboo hut was clean and cool, the candle light was homely, his pretty young daughter delighted to see him and us. The local people dropped by to welcome the foreigners who had come for tea.. But that's from the outside - the reality was that things were very hard for him and his school teacher wife (she earns about $35 a month)- and this is the Burmese middle class. He worked on the boats and had hoped to be home for a few days before heading back up north again but had just been told he had to leave the next morning - he really didn't want to go having had little time with his wife and child.
By this time we were already awed by the legendary Burmese friendliness and hospitality. The next morning we went to catch the train up into the Shan State - aiming to head up north to meet a tea salesman we had met on the boat. We had been asked to come and teach an English class at his village if we could. Again we took the slow route - the train left Mandalay at 4am and took about 12 hours - the scenery was stunning and the locals friendly. On the train we had an incident which is still haunting Eric. As we sat squashed on our wooden benches, feet on crates and sacks, surrounded by luggage and other squashed Burmese, their goods and animals, a little old man wearing a big floppy hat and an oversized woman's overcoat popped his head up over the bench in front. 'Excuse me, ' he said to Eric, in very precise English. 'Where do you come from?' ' Holland,'replied Eric. 'That's good,' said the little old man, 'because you look like Michael Jackson.' Then he settled back down again, satisfied.

On arrival in Hsipaw we found that the roads meant the bus heading further north to the village we wanted could often get stuck - sometimes for days. Sounds like fun we thought. But because we had spent so much time on the ferry we really had to start moving a bit. So after enjoying the beautiful scenery and rueing the fact that we didn't have time to do a trek and homestay we headed back to Mandalay on a pick-up via a night in Pyin U Lwin (gorgeous temperate surroundings).

Mandalay the third time around was great fun - we'd really got into the swing of things. Trishaw drivers are brilliant especially if you are lucky to find one that speaks English - and many do - they will give you the lowdown on whatever you want. We also hired a local guide to take us around the ancient cities, Inwa and Amanpura - and again she was a huge source of information on the situation in Myanmar and local life.
We did have a few weird incidents - like being followed by a plain clothes snoop while out with the trishaw drivers one evening, and a couple of run ins with unpleasant local police - one of which made it his day's work to throw stones at local children. We also went along to see the Moustache Brothers. The show was as excruciating as expected but when you read about Par Par Lay's bravery in Aung San Suu Kyi's Letters from Burma you feel you have to go to show support. Some doubt was raised by other locals we spoke to about how much of the expensive ticket charge (about 8000 K - a lot) goes to support political prisoners. The Moustache Brothers say it does and we decided this wasn't something we could judge and hope our money did end up providing for political prisoners and their families.
We left Mandalay happy - on our last day we developed some of the photos we had promised to send to people and, not trusting the local post, dropped them off at homes or workplaces. Next stop Bagan by the night train. We were running out of time and with only a week left had planned a mad rush itinerary which encompassed all the major high lights like Lake Inle and KyatKiyo - the Golden Rock.

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Photos

Scaffolding on Shwedagon Pagoda
they were repairing damage from Hurricane Nargis - we met a grandmother and her grandchildren here - they had been orphaned by Nargis

Eric pouring water on his birth animal
In Myanmar they mix Buddhism with astrology - each day of the week is allocated an animal and planet

Fast food as we pass through stations
We bought all sorts including coffee served in a plastic bag with a straw = saves on the cups!

Comments

[Tijdinkjes]

whamma say whamma sah whamma mamsam
And what did you reply to the Jackson-fan...: "Are you talkin' about my clothes...!? I moonwalk over you chinese kung-fu bud!" ;-) ciao, Remco