Raining in Burma

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I'd been pleased at how painless it was to get a China visa in Hong Kong - I sauntered into an agency one lunch time, handed over my passport and hey presto 4 hours later I was the proud owner of a 3 month visa. Leaving the country proved to be rather more challenging!!! I was in a town called Ruili in southwest China, from where I planned to cross into Burma. I'd arrived at the boarder crossing around 9am and duly joined a queue of about 15 people... some 20 mins later I was at the front and handing over my passport. My entry stamp from Shenzen, where I'd originally crossed the boarder from Hong Kong, hadn't printed properly and was only partially readable. This resulted in a few wee problems during my months in China but I'd become familiar with the confused expressions that it caused - when the immigration lady adopted the same look I quickly pointed and said "Shenzen", which was usually enough to get a nod and me on my way. Alas not this time. Tap, tap on the computer, she still looked perplexed and went off to confer with her three other colleagues. After a quick mini conference (during which I managed to hold up all 3 queues!) they still weren't happy so she got on the phone to HQ. It'd taken @ 10 mins by this point and the queue was building up nicely behind me, so I wasn't tooo surprised to find myself being herded out of it by a fourth immigration officer. A while later a fifth official appears who speaks a little English and the next 5 mins went something like...

Him: "Where is your tour group?"
Me: "I didn't come on a tour, I came alone"
Him: "OK. Which agency you with?"
Me: "I came alone, I wasn't with an agency. I crossed the boarder at Shenzen alone"
Him: "But where is your tour group?"

Arghhhhhh. The immigration guy was very nice but he spoke v little English and my little Mandarin phrase book wasn't quite up to this challenge! Finally I was saved by a call back from HQ - I wasn't some dodgy fugitive on Interpol's top ten list afterall.... stamp, stamp and I was over the boarder. Hurrah!! On the Burmese side things were quite different. No queueing here, instead they had a separate little office for foreigners of the non-Chinese variety - "come in, sit down, how are you?" And all in English!!! We had a nice little chat, in English about where I planned to go, how long I would stay for..... and football.... the Burmese I discovered are avid fans of two British exports, the BBC radio and premiership football!!!

I'd left China at @ 10am... and arrived in Burma at 8.30am. I'd forgotten that whilst the whole of China runs on Beijing time, the rest of the world doesn't. So having changed my watch I went off with my guide. Foreigners aren't allowed to travel between the boarder and Lashio, some 4 hours drive away, without a 'guide'... an expensive babysitter by all accounts. But before we (my guide, my driver and I) could set off there was the small matter of some paperwork... I sat drinking tea and reading my book for @ 90 mins whilst the staff stamped, photocopied, went off to get signatures from I don't know who, more stamps, more photocopies... yada yada. Finally we were off..... as far as the edge of town and the first "checkpoint". This route is a bit of a smuggling route into/out of China so there were a couple of checkpoints along the way. By now it was raining and I was left in the car as my guide dashed off to sort out yet more paperwork..... his parting words being 'you stay here, I'll get them to come to you'. Ahhh so that's what I'd paid for! A few minutes later there was a tap tap on the window and another immigration guy peered in - "Hello, how are you, passport please, ahhh you are from England, you support Chelsea or Man U?"

The scenery along the way was rural, stunning and amazingly green. The difference from China was immediately noticeable in the condition of the road (bye bye nice smooth concrete, hello potholed muddy dirt track) and both the lack of and type of traffic. Almost anything here is used for transport - during my month stay I ended up on trishaws, pickups, converted tractors, horse and carts, ox and carts, trains, buses and bikes, but only once a car. Generally I saw very few cars on the roads... Yangon being the exception to this and almost everything else. We passed a number of small villages and towns along the way, mostly comprised of bamboo thatch houses. As we drove through one of the larger towns my guide explained that 'poppy' plants used to grow along the side of the road... the government has since banned 'poppy' growing so you don't see them by the road anymore.... ;0) As we got closer to Lashio we had a second immigration stop and I was quizzed on whether English people prefer David Beckham or Michael Owen?! Really must swat up on my football.

I'd said to my guide that I wanted to try and get to Hsipaw that day, another 2hr bus ride from Lashio. He thought we'd be lucky to make the last bus after the time lost through my immigration escapades, but our driver drove like a speed demon and when it became clear we might make it, (with seconds to spare as it turned out), my guide phoned ahead and booked me a ticket. When we arrived and I saw the 'bus station' I was doubly glad we'd made it - I really don't know if I would have found it on my own! The concept of a bus station as I think of it doesn't seem to exist here, its more of a shop where the bus stops.... and every bus company has its own shop.... which may or may not be near another companies shop. The bus was high to climb up into and inside the seats seemed rather high off the floor - I guess the height of the bus off the road gave good clearance over the water and mud in the rainy season and the seats were actually the perfect height once a sack of rice was put on the floor as a foot rest;0) I think there were more bags of rice on the bus than people - only half the bus had seats, the back was converted into a storage space full of rice sacks, bags of vegetables... and my ruck sack. I'd made a dash for the toilet when we arrived at the 'bus station' and by the time I got back my bag was on the bus and I had 3 people point it out to me - "was it OK there? Did I want to check it?" I've never had that before! When one of the same guys helped me get it off the bus in Hsipaw... well, I nearly fell over in shock! For most of my trip I'd been used to hauling my own bag into the storage compartments/racks of buses and trains, in fact the only effective way to get help was to nearly drop it on someones head whilst trying to lift it! So to have someone pass it out the window to me....!!

After I'd settled into my hostel the first task was to exchange some dollars for the local currency - there are no international ATMS, credit cards are a no no (unless you're staying at a v v v v v expensivo hotel) as are travellers cheques. Cash only here... and only of the US dollar or Euro types please. I saw very few local banks in Burma, although to be honest I wasn't looking for them - all money changing is done through the black/grey market.... i.e. a hotel, shifty man at the market etc etc.
Hsipaw was the first place I visited in Burma and I think in the end it was my favourite. It is a small town in the hills of Shan State, the roads are unsealed (v much fun in the rainy season), there are a couple of hostels for westerners, a coffee shop and a book shop but very few other 'facilities' geared to tourists - in that sense for me it was perfect. I didn't get hassled to buy things, locals just went on with their daily lives and as with almost everywhere else I went in Burma they were amazingly friendly.

On my first day I hooked up with an Irish girl and Aussie couple to do a half day guided walk to some local villages. All started well as we followed a pretty route (green, waterfalls in the distance) along a path flanked on both sides by rice fields..... except the path quickly became a river thanks to all the recent rain and we were soon balancing/sliding along the muddy partitions of the rice fields. That was fine for the first few minutes until we had to cross to another partition - I watched the two girls both nearly take a swim as they crossed and then it was my go..... and I wimped out :0( Nothing against wet feet but having just lost one camera I didn't want to lose another to water damage... and the chances of that happening, especially with me not being the steadiest on my feet, seemed to be pretty high!! I said to the others that I'd head back and see them later but then the guide suggested we take another route along the railway tracks instead - the others all looked v relieved and jumped at the idea.... it seemed I wasn't the only one not wanting to swim, but no-one wanted to be the first to say! Walking along the railway track was actually more interesting - we met lots of locals walking the same route and got to jump out of the way of a passing train.... to be fair it was going so slowly you'd have to be tied down to not move in time.

Our guide told us that the locals call westerners the 'bye byes' and I soon understood why - you'd be walking through a village or by a hedgerow and suddenly you'd hear a voice shout 'bye bye'. To start with you'd look around and not see anyone but then either a head would pop out above the shrubbery or you'd spy a child playing under a house, smiling, waving and shouting bye bye. We walked through a few villages on our way, mostly deserted except for some kids riding water buffalo around. Everyone else was in the fields - we had a go at planting some rice seedlings but I don't think the locals were overly impressed with our speed or technique.... but the sight of these strange westerners wanting to plant rice definitely gave them a laugh. As did the white palms of our hands... that sent them into fits of giggles... apparently we all looked like movie stars. Can't say I felt like one as I walked along dripping in sweat and half covered in mud. We also so an albino water buffalo... apparently not as revered as a white elephant and had to work just as hard as it's darker companions in the fields.

The electricity in our hostel was provided by a generator, in the villages the locals had to produce their own or go without. Once village we passed had set up a turbine to make use of a mini waterfall they'd created to generate some.... 2 GCSE's, 2 A levels, a BSc and a PhD all in science... and I'm not sure I'd be able to do the same.

That evening we all ended up in the same restaurant drinking beers. On the way back to the hostel after perhaps slightly one to many, I was walking along behind the Aussie girl chatting when I suddenly saw her disappear right infront of me. The road was flooded again so we were walking along the verge and either due to the conversation or maybe the beers we forgot about the ditch that we had to cross... with the extra rain water she fell in up to her chest. And I'm ashamed to say my first thought was 'glad it's not me! Wouldn't want to get my camera wet!'

Another day, another early start. Our hostel it seemed was right by a school, well a pre-school school. English isn't taught much at regular school so many kids attend extra classes before and after school in English and Maths. The pre school classes seemed to start at @ 5am and learning methods seemed to focus on repetition at full voice! Edel and I decided to strike off on our own to some sights just outside the village... we had a map and some instructions from the receptionist to walk passed the police station, cross the railway track, then turn left along the path by the tamarind tree. Well, I suppose it would have helped if I'd known what a tamarind tree looked like, or even a tamarind for that matter, but we had the hand drawn map so I didn't think to ask. Derrr. We never did get to the place we were aiming for, missing both the railway track (which we latter saw was cunning disguised by some over grown grass) and the tree, but managed to spend most of the morning wondering around more villages and rice fields. We went back to Hsipaw for lunch, planning a second attempt in the afternoon, but as we sat munching banana roti's and sipping lime juices a wind picked up and all the locals ran for their bikes... minutes later the rain started and that was it for the rest of the day.

On my third day we hooked up with a french couple, a Japanese guy and a Swiss pair to go on a boat trip. We went up stream for maybe 90 mins, getting a great view of life along the river - people fishing, washing etc before finally coming to a stop. We then had a 30 min walk uphill... it really wasn't too far but it'd rained so much that at one point we really were one step forward and then slipping two back in the mud. At the top we walked through a pineapple plantation (I never knew they grew on the ground, I thought they'd be in trees like banana's) and mango plantation to a monastery. We sat in the main hall drinking tea and munching pineapple whilst the monks cleaned up their meal - it'was about 11am and they're not allowed to eat after noon. After refreshment we were back off to tackle mud hill again... I wasn't looking forward to sliding my way down to the river but the boat man and his boy had cut us each a bamboo pole to help us down... they off course virtually ran down without a hint of a slip, but for the rest if us the joke was whoever was still standing at the end had to do battle with the poles... and shock horror I was one of them!! We stopped further along the river at a small village for lunch.... only accessible by train or boat it's name translated as something like big garden village.... and every house did have a rather large garden. Our guide took us on a wee tour and pointed out all sorts of fruits and vegetables from a star fruit tree to a coffee bean plant. We stopped for the best soup I had all trip - a basic noodle soup with tomato, coriander and lime on top - was simple but sooo good. Perfect end to the day!

Next up Bagan - 2000 and how many temples???

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Photos

Planting the new seedlings....
We waved at these ladies as we walked passed which sent them into fits of laughter... or the sight of the white palms of our hands did! Apparently we all looked like moviestars!