From Mandalay we took an 8-hour bus ride to the hill station of Kalaw. We’d been warned that the roads were terrible and the ride would be hell. Fortunately, it didn’t turn out to be as bad as it was made out to be. My backside and vertebrae survived.
Kalaw, built by the British in the manner of Shimla / Mussoorie, is a nice cool town at around 4300 feet. Thankfully, it doesn’t have the hustle bustle of the Indian hill stations - the main things to see in this one-horse town were the ‘market’ (a collection of stalls selling knicks-knacks and daily essentials), an obligatory pagoda, and ‘Kalaw Hotel’ (a nice quaint wooden structure from 1904). Apart from that we also visited the railway station which is connected to Yangon by a couple of trains a day. There we bumped into a tourist couple (complete with the obligatory large backpacks) who seemed to be waiting for a train that would perhaps never come!
Just out of town is the Shwe Umin Pagoda which is a natural cave with thousands of large (and small) Buddha idols. I was a bit hesitant to enter as the floor was supposed to be slimy. But when I was told that it wasn’t as bad as I expected it to be, I decided to brave it. Lo and behold! There was no slime! The cave itself was pretty interesting - but what I liked best were that some of the Buddhas had a wee protective shawl to protect them from the elements (it did get cold in the cave after all!). Then we trudged to Nee Paya where there was a large Buddha made of bamboo strips.
In the evening we took our custom to the local watering hole called Hi Bar. It was a very small and cramped u-shaped bar mainly full of locals (including some amateur musicians who were strumming their stuff). A local (with Indian roots) started chatting with me across the table and he decided to practice his (rudimentary) Hindi on me. The whole bar fell silent and I became conscious as everyone was trying to hear (but obviously not understand) each and every word of our conversation.
From Kalaw we drove to Nyaung shwe, which most tourist use as a base to explore Inle Lake (unless they’re staying at one of the ritzy resorts on the lakeside). Consequently, Nyaung Shwe has become a bustling town with money changers, guesthouses, pancake houses, and internet cafes abound.
We spent an entire day explore the rather large lake and its offerings. We took one of those motorised long boats (I was holding on for dear life. Don’t know swimming, you see!). We explored the market at thout main (a moving market that is set up in a different location every day) where almost everything under the sun that tourists and locals might want was available – ranging from vegetables to medicines to touristy souvenirs and trinkets.
Many villages skirted the sides of the lakes – these villages somehow reminded me of life in Dal Lake in Srinagar. Though there were no house boats, all houses here were on stilts and people used boats to get from one place to another. The fishermen in the lake use a very unorthodox rowing technique – suffice to say that it is known as ‘one-legged rowing’. Photos will show what I might fail to explain in words.
We were taken to the standard touristy shops and workshops (cheroot making factory, silversmith, blacksmith, and weaving workshops). I studiously stayed away from these workshops and would plonk myself outside and try and get some reading done - I was reading Amitav Ghosh’s ‘Glass Palace’ and Thant Myint-U’s ‘River of Lost Foot-steps’ to ‘get into character’. At one of the workshops we got to see some ‘long necked’ women from the Padaung tribe which was a bit sad. From the Kayah state (bordering with Thailand), these women were originally ‘made’ to put the rings on their necks to make them unattractive to raiders (many versions of the story). But now the women voluntarily put these rings so that they can earn money by being photographed by the tourists (ethical dilemma for shutterbugs!)
Our final stop was the Nga phae chaung Monastery which is also known as the ‘Jumping Cats’ Monastery. Quite a strange concept actually. The monastery is famous because the residents can make cats jump through hoops. There are a number of cats that roam about freely here and at an appointed hour there is a wee show. Of course, what most of the enthusiastic audience did not know was that the floor was littered with cat pee. In fact some of us spotted a cat systematically peeing into the shoes all of the tourists one by one! My shoes did feel a bit wet!
The next day we trekked around Nyaung Shwe through a couple of villages and saw (surprise surprise) a few pagodas, monasteries, lakes, and even a vineyard. It was a hot day and I was more than glad to be back to Nyaung Shwe where at the local Italian joint ‘Golden Kite’ I had the best pizza I’ve had in a long while (that was probably because they obliged me and made the pizza with parmesan rather than mozzarella).
In the evening I went to the local river where a makeshift bridge had come up overnight because the regular bridge had developed a fault. Now to use the word bridge for the makeshift contraption would be a stretch. But then maybe not because it did, after all, serve the function. Basically a bunch of bamboo shoots had been used to construct a one-way rather narrow walkway across the river. I decided to brave from one side of the river to the other and then back. It took me the better part of 45 minutes even though the river was not more than 20 metres at that point. That was because there was a (human) traffic jam on the bridge as there were people with cycles, babies, baskets, and buckets trying to cross the bridge from both sides. Though it was a fun experience I dared not look down!
Our next stop was Kyaik Hti Yoe. For that we had to first fly down to Rangoon from Inle Lake. As we approached Heho airport to take the flight to Rangoon, we noticed large crowds on the streets. We were told that Aung San Suu Kyi was flying in. As we reached the airport there was a lot of commotion and from the Departure Lounge (we had not checked in as yet), I could see the airport officials suddenly leave their desks and run out. Not wanting to be left behind, I also ran after them and sure enough there was a plane which had just landed with a large crowd around it. Jostling myself into the crowd, I was able to spot Aung San Suu Kyi momentarily. That really made my day. Sadly it was too much of a scrum to photograph the lady herself.
Anyways, when we reached Rangoon, we drove straight towards Kyaik Hti Yoe about 4 hours away. Kyaik Hti Yoe is one of Burma’s most revered sights and is on the top of a hill about 1000 metres high. Our bus took us to the base of the hill and from there we were able to go half way up the hill on the back of a truck (which was an experience in itself ‘cool wind in my hair’ etc.). But this was followed by an hour-long extremely steep walk up the hill (I guess all over the world religious sights need a certain amount of physical effort for the ‘faithful’ to get there). I celebrated getting to the top, in true loser style, with a nice cold beer!
Thankfully, the site of the pilgrimage is pretty impressive. ‘Golden Rock’ is a large rock which seemingly hangs precipitously at the edge of a cliff (this rock is supposedly held in place by a hair of The Buddha). We were there around sunset and it was a pretty surreal experience as we were surrounded by incense smoke and the chants of the faithful.
That night, after the customary beers, we ate at the hotel - the hotel itself was really nice but the food was terrible but we’d been “advised” not to eat outside as ‘other restaurants are suitable for local people’. One of the three bad meals (see last post) I ate in Burma.
The next day we drove back to Yangon via Bago where we saw an ancient pagoda and a burnt down royal palace. We also stopped by a plantation (where rubber, betel nut, bananas, betel leaf etc were grown). Everyone else had their share of fun when I tried the local betel nut in a leaf (paan) along with lime. It was really potent. I swear I saw pink elephants for five minutes!
Back in Yangon we had a free couple of days to unwind before the trudge back to Delhi. One day I took a cab to go and see Aung San Suu Kyi’s house where she was under house arrest for all those years and used to give a wee speech from inside the gates every Saturday. Obviously, much was lost in translation as the cab driver took me to the local NLD (National League of Democracy, ASSK’s party) office rather than her home. My penultimate stop was the (rather touristy) covered Scott Market (or as it is now known, Bogyoke Aung San Market) and did a bit of music and t-shirt shopping to get rid of those excess Kyats (did I tell you, that is what the currency in Burma is called).
My most poignant moment was reserved for the last day when I went to see Bahadur Shah Zafar’s grave. The Last Moghul King was exiled by the British (for being a figurehead of the 1857 mutiny) to Rangoon and was never allowed go back to India.
His grave (his wife is also buried there), though housed in a very neat and impressive little building, is a very solitary affair. Obviously there were no other visitors there and it felt a bit sad more so when I remembered what he had said about being denied the right to be buried in his own country.
Kitna hai badnaseeb Zafar, dafn ke liye
do gaz zamin bhi na mil kuye-yaar mein
(How unfortunate is Zafar! For his burial
Not even two yards of land were to be had, in the land of his beloved)
Thankfully I was able to get back to my beloved land.
