Bagan, Myanmar – December 14th – 18th, 2016

We arrived in Nyaung-U, the town outside of Bagan, before dawn. We walked the 15 minutes to our hotel and were warmly welcomed by the family that owns/lives at the hotel. Our room was not available, so they set us up with blankets and pillows so we could get a couple of hours sleep on the couch in the entryway. They even tucked us in, which was strange, but can’t say I didn’t like it. The room we were supposed to take was occupied by a traveler that was stomach sick (been there) so they eventually let us take over a different room to shower and do sink laundry (Andy’s least favorite traveling chore). Now around noon, we settled into our real room and ventured out for an afternoon of pizza, happy-hour drinks, and board games. We may or may not have played two rounds of Monopoly…

The next day was temple mania round… I don’t know anymore, we’ve seen so many temples. We hired a guide for the first day because we wanted someone to give us the lay of the land and explain what we were looking at before we ventured out on our own. Good idea in principle, but you must have a guide that’s useful for the plan to pan out. Our guide was not only the largest Myanmar person we had seen so far, but the laziest as well (coincidence? I think not). He truly did the bare minimum. On several occasions, he had us follow him on our electric scooters to the temple, where he told us to go in and come back when we were done, giving us absolutely no information. For the most part, to get him to be a guide, you had to pepper him with questions. Unfortunately, you also had to know what questions to ask in order to hear about the interesting features of the temples and/or artwork within. For example, I asked the question, “What’s that style of temple over there?” to which he responded matter-of-fact, “That’s the oldest temple in Bagan.” Seriously?!  We only learned that it was from the 9^th century from a local woman who happened to be telling a different group. Luckily, our penny-pinching ways over the past three months had enabled us to perfect the skill of casually following another group to listen to their guide. We had a lot of guide envy. About two hours before sunset (yes, two hours early), our guide dropped us off at large pagoda you can climb up to see the view and watch the sun go down. The wait was definitely worth it, even though we were there with about 1,000 of our closest friends. Just to annoy our “guide,” we stayed past dark, after most others had cleared out (petty, but satisfying).

Although a guide fail for sure, Bagan is absolutely stunning! The ruins of over 2200 temples and pagodas are sprinkled over a large area creating one of the most beautiful man-made backdrops in the world. The temples were mostly built between the 11^th and 13^th century and many have been at least partially restored. Earthquakes and about 1000 years of erosion have caused some to collapse, but there are still a handful of large pagodas that you can climb on to get a view of the surrounding area. The inside of the pagodas/temples are predictable: a large Buddha image (statue) at the east entrance, surrounded by a variety of smaller Buddha images. The original ornate artwork, when still intact, is painted on plaster covering the brick walls. The main downside to entering the temples is the necessity to take your shoes off. This is inconvenient at best, given that many temples are also the home to bats and guano often covers the floor. Ahhh the aroma of guano accompanied by the feel of its squish between your toes…

Day 1 in Bagan. 

Day two at Bagan went much better than day one. Although, thanks to a fun night out with two very entertaining Englishmen the night before, we did not make it up for sunrise as we had planned. Instead, after breakfast, we rented bicycles from our hotel and explored on our own. We stumbled upon many equally impressive and less touristy temples. Most of the day we were so isolated from other people that we wondered if Bagan was closed on Fridays and we had missed the memo. At sunset, we climbed a temple and enjoyed the company of just one other traveler.

Day 2 in Bagan. 

On our last full day at Bagan we decided to rent electric scooters again rather than bicycles. Although the bikes were great exercise, Bagan is very spread out and connected by dirt roads which are more like sand roads in places. We made it up for sunrise, which was well worth the effort it took to venture into the cold morning air at 5 am. As the sun peeped over the horizon, about 15 hot air balloons meandered through the sky, created an absolutely spectacular scene! As always, the pictures do not come close to doing it justice. During the day, we attempted to take it easy. As usual, this backfired. What was meant to be a relaxing day, quickly turned into a frustrating one thanks to terrible service at a restaurant, electronic scooter problems galore, and overall trouble finding anything we set out to find. After returning our first scooter due to faulty brakes (faulty in this case means nonexistent), we received one that, unbeknownst to us, had a faulty battery. Why they gave away the scooter we had taken at sunrise is beyond us! The battery stopped giving juice at the best (sarcasm) possible time: well after sunset, about 6 km from the hotel, on a dirt road with no traffic, and with a dead cell phone. The scooter was not strong enough to haul us both, but was able to go about 3 mph with only Andy on the bike. So, I walked for about 45 minutes until a very nice local offered to take me to my hotel on the back of his motorbike (how we managed to communicate without using a common language is a mystery to me, but we pulled it off). When I arrived, the staff was relieved. Apparently, they knew the bike was going to die and were waiting for us to call to have them to come rescue us. Communicate much?! Also, quick side rant about the hotel: In the mornings, breakfast was served between 7 and 9 am. All good, except, apparently, you come to breakfast when they want you to, because they would knock on your door and insist that you go to breakfast now. Sleeping or not, “You come to breakfast now!” If you didn’t go (because it was 6:55 am and I can decide for myself when I want to eat breakfast thank you very much), you got another knock 5 minutes later again insisting you go. So aggravating!

Day 3 sunrise and sunset in Bagan.

All in all, Bagan was amazing, although we were thoroughly templed out by the time we departed for Mandalay. To be completely honest, we were also pretty traveled out. Moving around every four days or so is exhausting and it had been about six months since we had been in one place for longer than a week. Between epically bad bus rides, planning where to go, what to do, and how to get there in an undeveloped country is a full-time job (a job that costs you money). Enough bitching though, we were, after all, just in Bagan and are in the midst of a one year trip around the world (still seems surreal)!

Loikaw, Myanmar - December 10th - 13th, 2016

The minibus ride to Loikaw was, perhaps for the first time ever, pretty painless. The painful part of this portion of the trip happened when we arrived. Loikaw is an off the map destination from which you can hire a guide and visit the nearby tribal villages. Since tourism remains minimal, the available hotels are sparse and largely unadvertised/reviewed. Our hotel turned out to be terrible value - $40/night for a room with an attached bathroom that was covered in mold and ants (keep in mind that we usually try to spend less than $20/night). The trouble with combining your shower with the bathroom (In Asia there is no quarantined shower/bath area, it is all in one tiled room), is that if the floor is not sloped properly, the shower water will not drain and stagnant water means mold. The additional problem with the hotel is that they misinformed us about the guide situation. It was not $35/day including transportation, but rather $35/day not-including transportation which would cost close to an additional $50/day. Likely these figures still seem pretty reasonable to you, but let me tell you, when you are used to around $1-2 for a complete meal and less than $40/day in total, close to $100 for a guide is excessive! We attempted to find other tourists to split the cost with us, but alas in a place with a modest tourist scene, finding them turned out to be a challenge. Through sheer grit and determination (plus 12 hours of asking around) we landed a guide/driver that we hired for 160,000 kyat (~$120) for two days.

Our guide’s name was Win and he was glorious! Since we hired him last minute and he was on his way to a wedding reception when he got the call, he brought us along with him as his guests. We felt a bit like wedding crashers and were certainly not dressed for the occasion, but soon discovered that the bride and groom were excited to have us there. We congratulated the happy couple and took our seats, where we were served massive amounts of rice and curries. Our meal was an awkward one since the videographers and camera men couldn’t get enough… it felt strange (and quite pleasing if we are honest) to be a celebrity again. The wedding reception was surprisingly similar to a reception in the US. The guests were served food and chatted amongst themselves while the bride and groom walked around saying hello to everyone.

After a quick dine and ditch at the wedding reception, we headed toward the Kayan villages. The Kayan tribe are known for the “longneck” women because the traditional dress includes wearing gold colored rings around their elongated necks. On the way, we stopped at animist spirit poles, where we learned about the native religion. One pole is erected each year to represent a connection between the earth and the heavens. The tribes gather at the spirit poles every April to kill the most attractive rooster and astrologists read the rooster’s thigh bones to predict the future. Yes, you read that correctly. Next, we traveled to a Buddhist worship site comprised of silver, rather than gold, pagodas. Apparently, the Kayah state was once known for its silver production, so the locals in the area favor the color silver. Here, we finally got the answer to one of our reoccurring questions: Why do all pagodas have a pole nearby with a chicken sculpture on top? The answer to the question was stated very matter of fact, as if it was normal and obvious: the chicken sculpture is simply used to mark the religious site.

Top right: wedding reception; middle right: silver pagodas' bottom right: animist spirit poles; bottom left: me with two traditionally dressed Kayaw girls. 

We arrived in the Kayan village of Pan Pet in the early afternoon. At each of the four houses that we visited, we met with the traditionally dressed elderly woman and whatever family was around. Our guide did his best to translate for us, although it usually had to be through a younger family member that spoke Burmese. The experience was unreal. The women (some in their 80’s) showed us how they shuck rice, spin raw cotton, make jewelry (including their neck rings) from raw metal, cut firewood, play a handmade guitar, and shoot a slingshot. They were all very friendly and proud to show off their skills (which were incredibly impressive). In most cases, their husbands had passed away many years ago, and the elderly woman carried on doing all of the necessary tasks. The vast majority of younger woman did not wear the traditional dress, either because it is heavy and uncomfortable or because they cannot afford the rings, which are solid bronze (used to be gold) and extremely expensive. The poverty was… humbling… with no electricity, very very few possessions, and tough living (to say the least). However, just as in the farming village near Inle Lake, the people seemed exceptionally happy and so incredibly strong. It again left us feeling soft and lazy, but so grateful for what we have. After leaving each house, we presented the woman with a small bottle of cooking oil, which they were beyond grateful to have.

Kayan woman. The bottom right photos shows a Kayan woman attempting to teach me how to make cotton thread from raw cotton - fail. 

Around the Kayan village of Pan Pet. 

On the way back from Pan Pet we stopped at Umbrella Lake – a natural spring where hot gases are emitted into a large mud puddle causing “umbrellas”. As we might have guessed, this too had been converted into a religious site and it is said that seeing an umbrella brings you good luck (we now have double good luck, we saw two). We then went to visit the hut of a Kayah woman (yes, the nearby tribes are named: Kayan, Kayah, and Kayaw – very confusing). The traditional dress of the Kayah woman is meant to represent a bird. They wear a tunic with a red cap, large and heavy earrings, and wrap their knees in cotton thread soaked in black lacquer. Both the Kayan and Kayah traditional dress looked incredible uncomfortable. Accordingly, the next generation of Kayah women also choose not to wear the traditional dress (except for on special occasions when it allows them to dress more provocatively than they normally would). It is sad to see that the traditions are largely dying with the older generation, but in all fairness, I would not want to wear either of those outfits either.

The views around Loikaw. An umbrella at umbrella lake is shown in the top left photo. 

The next day we went to the Kayah village of Dharamagyi. Special permission was required to go to the village (due to ethnic armed forces who maintain control over the village) and tourists have only been allowed to visit the village for about a year. When we arrived at the village, we were paired up with a local villager that spoke both Burmese and the tribal language. Much like at Pan Pet, we visited five different houses and met with the traditionally dressed elderly women. The houses were constructed differently than in the Kayan village - each had a thick straw roof and was surrounded by a fence. The villagers had just received power about three months before, but most could not afford to hook it up to their houses and continued to use small solar collectors to run a couple of lights at night. Some women played us traditional music on a bamboo string instrument or bamboo harmonica, while others showed us how they make millet alcohol or remove the seeds from raw cotton before threading it by hand. At the last house, the woman was so fascinated by my white skin that she stuck her whole head under my dress. I thought she was trying to look at my underwear! While leaving the village, the guide showed us the cemetery where the dead are buried with literally all of their possessions. All of the deceased’s clothes, kitchen equipment, tools, etc. were put in a small roofed platform in a nearby tree. No need for a will in this culture! 

Kayah women.

The Kayah village, houses, and cemetery. Old rooster thigh bones are shown in the center left photo, while an animist device to prevent bad spirits and people from entering your home is shown in the center right photo. 

Interacting with the Kayah people. 

Before saying goodbye to Win (our guide), he drove us around Loikaw so we could buy some traditional foods for our dinner. We bought bamboo stuffed sticky rice with beans, fried pancake balls with green onions, Loikaw pork sausage, and local millet beer (which tastes more like wine and is likely about 12% alcohol). We had a feast in our hotel room that night while we discussed our impressions of the previous two days. Overall, we felt lucky to have had this incredible experience before tourism becomes too big and starts hindering the tribe’s traditions and daily way of life. Adding to the trekking experience from the week before, we reflected on what truly brings happiness and felt shame for being so self-absorbed at times – wanting more when others have so little. Yet, this all becomes a bit of a mind f*ck when you then pose the question: Would donating money and/or introducing them to the Western world really bring more value or happiness to their lives?  

Loikaw feast. We did not eat bats, however, which were for sale at the market (bottom right). 

We had the morning and afternoon the next day before departing on an overnight minibus to Bagan. Seeing that we already knew the overnight minibus was going to be hell (there were no other travel options) we slept in before exploring the nearby Taung Kwe Pagoda which is located on a large limestone outcrop. Besides the views, the highlight here was the tourist monks taking selfies! Finally ready to leave on the minibus that evening, there was a massive argument among the locals about the seating arrangements on our all-Burmese minibus (with the exception of one Canadian). As is always the case, the 12-hour bus ride was miserable. We did not sleep at all and the locals were extraordinarily loud especially when it came to blaring Myanmar music from their phones and hocking loogies which were spit in a mystery location directly behind my head.

Taung Kwe Pagoda and Andy demonstrating that we are way too tall for just about everything in Asia 

Buddhist monks and nuns. In the bottom right photo Andy is being a celeb and posing for a photo with a local.

Inle Lake, Myanmar – December 5th – 9th, 2016

Our first overnight bus performed as expected, it got us to Inle Lake. We did not, however, sleep. Why the Asian buses feel the need to set the air-conditioner to 12 degrees C (53 degrees F) is beyond us! Apart from insomnia and hypothermia, the bus was quite comfortable. The seats were large and they provided a useless blanket, snack, and even a toothbrush and toothpaste. We arrived in Nyaung Shwe just before dawn and, because we have become increasingly cheap, groggily walked the 20 minutes to our hotel. When we arrived, a miracle occurred: we were greeted at a locked front gate by the owner, checked in, and were taken to our clean comfortable bungalow to get some sleep before being invited to breakfast (for free!). 

In the afternoon, we ventured out into the city via bicycle. We visited a bustling market, ate lunch, and rode to a nearby winery. Yes, you read that correctly: Winery! Unlike Nepali wine, which, in case you missed that post, is disgusting, Myanmar wine is passable, not good, but passable. The scenery, though, was spectacular. Based on this, and not the wine, we stayed several hours and watched the sun go down while chatting with a German couple. After sunset, we rode back to town (in the dark without lights) with our new friends and enjoyed some pizza and fruit shakes (finally a meal without rice – 2^nd miracle of the day!).

Markets around Nyaung Shwe.

Red Mountain Estate Winery.

Day two around Inle Lake was another bicycle day. We rode about one hour to Khaung Daing, which, based on our trusted (not so trustworthy) travel website, is “a sprawling village stretch along Inle Lake featuring various food-related cottage industries.” We think they should change the wording to say, “a largely abandoned village along Inle Lake featuring houses where they supposedly make food, but you won’t see or taste any of it.” We rode around the entire village looking and asking the locals for yellow pea tofu. After an hour, we finally happened upon a man and wife stirring a large pot of white slop which we are hereby assuming was tofu. After an epic fail seeking out the “food-related cottage industries” we settled on watching a local soccer game before moving on to a hill top pagoda with good views of the lake. In addition to good views, it turns out the steps leading up to the pagoda, is also a sort of lovers lane for young Myanmar couples looking to get away from cultural no no’s and parental supervision. Hungry again (on a side note having to eat regularly is such an inconvenience), we rode back to Nyaung Shwe and grabbed some lunch (more curry and rice). After a couple of hours at the hotel planning the next leg of our adventure, we took the bikes out again to a nice wooden monastery before attending a traditional puppet show. The show was really just puppets doing traditional Myanmar dances, but because they are puppets, it was amusing and the puppeteer was very talented.

Biking around Khaung Daing.

Pictures from the Shwe Yan Bye Monastery and Aung puppet show. 

We woke up early the next day to meet our boatman for a tour of Inle Lake. This is the main attraction at Inle Lake and was set up perfectly to squeeze money out of tourists. You ride around a picturesque lake and visit handicraft markets and manufacturing homes on stilts, where the locals show you how they make their products. We saw how they make silver jewelry from raw silver ore, hand-weave scarves and skirts out of raw cotton, silk, and lotus flowers, build traditional fishing boats, and roll cigars from leaves. After you learn their trade, you, of course, are ushered through a store where you feel obligated to buy something (plus, how they make things from scratch is super cool). Their techniques are clearly effective since even us, the penny pinchers, bought some gifts and souvenirs. In addition to the handicraft tourist trap, we also visited floating villages, In Dein (pagodas galore), a monastery with a lot of pigeon poop (as always, shoes were prohibited), and a jumping cat monastery. Apparently, a deceased monk used to train cats to jump at the jumping cat monastery, but since he passed away the cats do not jump. There are, however, a plethora of cats, one of which is a complete asshole and swatted at me, making my finger bleed. Andy thought this was hilarious because, apparently, I was "chasing the cat." On the way back, we watched some of the traditional fisherman paddle their boats with one leg while fishing using giant circular nets – they have amazing balance! The long day was topped off by incredibly delicious Indian food made by a young guy that was convinced Andy was Justin Timberlake.

Views around Inle Lake.

Some of the sites around Inle Lake. The top row of photos shows silver production, harvesting thread from lotus flowers, and weaving. The bottom row of photos were taken at the pigeon shit monastery, cigar making factory, and boat building shack. 

Exploring the pagodas at In Dein.

The next two days were spent doing a trek in the mountains east of Inle Lake. We met our guide, Sunny, bright (pun intended) and early and started walking towards his family’s house in a farming village called Yin Pyer. On the way, we saw a cave which, along with all other natural phenomena in Myanmar, had been converted into a Buddhist temple. After about 4-5 hours of hard climbing, we stopped for lunch at a bamboo shack, where our guide cooked us food from a fire in the “kitchen”. Three other tourists (two guys from Italy and a Romanian woman) joined us midway through our lunch and we talked about our favorite topic: the mystery of Donald (Trump that is, and favorite should be read with sarcasm). Back on the trail, we stopped to see the view and let our chain-smoking 21 year old guide have a smoke break. Just before sunset we arrived at our home for the night – a bamboo shack, with solar power for lights, surrounded by cigar leaf trees. At Sunny’s request, we climbed the nearby hill to the town’s monastery to watch the sun go down with the other foreigners, while he started to prepare our dinner.

Trekking to and from Yin Pyer village.

Back a Sunny’s house, we met his family, and settled into our digs – a thin pad on the floor with some blankets. The experience was humbling to say the least. The house consisted of four rooms, a kitchen, a living space, and two bedrooms, all separated by woven bamboo walls. The entire contents of the house, including personal belongings, would fill one regular US-sized closet. Cooking was done from a squatting position using two small clay fire kilns. Although the “windows” were open, smoke from the “stove” filled the entire house. The toilet was an outhouse, which was really four woven bamboo walls with a plastic squat toilet over a hole in the ground. Sunny’s mom worked from 4:30 am to after 10 pm preparing meals (which consist of rice and cauliflower curry literally every day), cleaning, feeding the chickens and cows, tending to the fields, etc. etc. etc. Even when “relaxing” she was still peeling garlic to reseed the fields in the coming weeks. Although the villages are undoubtedly some of the financially poorest people in the world, we left conflicted, because at no point did we pity them. They appear content with what they have and happy to be surrounded by family and friends while working the day and night away. If anything, we are beginning to learn that money does not bring you happiness, it simply enables you to be lazy. Don’t get me wrong, rich people are not necessarily lazy (well to be frank, they are in comparison to these people), but it is far too easy to get used to the comforts, and we take what we have for granted every day. As cliché as it is, we truly do not need material possessions to be happy. Perhaps our desire for possessions and wealth gets in the way of the things that truly bring happiness. Okay, rant over, especially because what I am about to say may, very well be, hypocritical. After watching the sunrise and spending a couple early morning hours reflecting on the past 12 hours, we were thrilled to be walking back to our comparatively lavish hotel with all of the comforts. It turns out that our posh, sensitive bodies were not at all pleased with sleeping/eating on the floor and breathing impure air. When we arrived at the hotel, we promptly washed ourselves and all of our clothes, including our backpacks, to try and rid ourselves of the smell. Yup, we’re definitely lazy and spoiled…     

Sunny's parents house. 

Just because we love animals, and miss Tucker (our dog), some pictures of animals around Inle Lake. 

Yangon, Myanmar – December 1st – 4th, 2016

Yangon is considered the “last great Southeast Asian city”; to us it seemed a lot like any other a big city. Worse yet, we lost our celebrity status! There were other tourists everywhere and the locals pretty much ignored us, which was a bit of a shock (and more than a little hurtful) after being such a big deal for the past week and a half. Also, for the first time on our trip we stayed in a dormitory. It was a pretty nice place, but we soon learned that there really is something to be said for having walls between you and a snoring neighbor. Despite these less than ideal circumstances, we ended up having some great experiences in Yangon.

Top right and top middle photos were taken on the way to Yangon. The top right is a storage room for rubber collected and processed by hand at the surrounding rubber plantations. The top left photo is us in from of our dorm bunk beds. The bottom two photos are some of the views/traffic around Yangon.

Arriving and departing Yangon by bus is… overwhelming. The bus drops/picks you up at the biggest and busiest bus station known to man (not sure if this is true or not, but sure seems to be true). Being that is was dark both times we were at Aung Mingala bus station did not help the situation. Upon arrival, we had to find transportation to downtown Yangon, which is about an hour and a half away (in wall to wall traffic around the clock). First things first though, we had to find the bus station exit, which was an undertaking on its own. Although you can take an overpriced taxi, we attempted to take the bus in order to save money. That was, until we saw the bus. The public bus looked like an abandoned school bus crammed to the brim with Burmese travelers. After attempting, and failing, at negotiations, we settled on a shared van instead. The return trip to Aung Mingala was no better. At the downtown bus station, we ran into the same chaotic mess except this time the shared van filled in seconds, leaving us out to dry. We ended up sharing a taxi with two Malaysian travelers. The problem this time was finding our bus in the cesspool of bus companies and people. Most all signs are written in Burmese script and matching the symbols proved extremely unsuccessful. We asked about 15 locals for directions before finally finding our bus over an hour after the taxi had dropped us off. Good thing we left ourselves plenty of time.  

Myanmar is not exactly known for its cuisine, but we were able to find some pretty good food around Yangon. Between Indian food, vegetable and meat skewers, and Shan noodle soup, the soup was probably our favorite. We have also recently become obsessed with fresh fruit smoothies (that is when we can be sure the water is filtered)! The markets provide all of the fresh fruits, vegetables, and meats you can imagine. The fish and meat are sometimes so fresh that they are still struggling to move and breathe when you buy them. If they are completely dead, they have been thoroughly butchered leaving you the option to pick any part of the animal that you wish (literally any part of the animal). Flies are included for free. I realize that this is just the way that it is and at least they are using all of the animal, but actually seeing it is something else. Also, when you order meals with meat you will receive not only meat but cartilage, bones, etc. In other news, I have recently become a vegetarian.  

Markets around Yangon.

Around Yangon, we visited a huge handicraft market called Bogyoke Aung San Market. It was interesting to see all of the Myanmar art and handmade crafts. Their resourcefulness is incredible, since most, if not all, of the crafts are made from natural products grown, harvested, and processed in Myanmar. On our first night in Yangon, we walked to one of the jetties to watch the sun go down and took a bicycle taxi back. The poor guy had to work so hard to lug us back to our hostel, we both felt bad and contemplated swapping with him, but figured we wouldn't be strong enough to pedal for more than a couple of minutes. 

Streets of Yangon.

Jetti and nearby pagoda at sunset. Right middle photo shows us on the bike taxi. 

The next day, we hopped on the circle train which circumnavigates the city very VERY slowly (~3 hours for the loop). The locals use the train to get around so the people watching was excellent. There were vendors selling everything from live chickens to quail eggs, fresh fruit, newspapers, betel nut, and everything in between. Added bonus was that for a short time we were celebrities again! After eyeing us for about 30 minutes, two brave young girls sandwiched us to take photos and play phone games with us. It was nice to feel wanted again. Since my attention span remains very poor, we lasted about 45 minutes before becoming bored by the train and hoping off. We walked to a nice pagoda park and fed stale bread to some humongous fish before catching a taxi to a lakeside driving range and hitting a bucket of golf balls. For sunset, we took another taxi to Shwedagon pagoda, the most famous pagoda in Myanmar. The pagoda grounds were built to enshrine three Buddha hairs that were plucked and given to a couple of merchants for their donation to Buddha thousands of years ago. The pagoda was out of this world lavish, much like Versailles in France. The top of the massive pagoda included a 75 carat diamond and a three-foot replica pagoda on display was made entirely from solid gold. Don’t get me wrong, it was absolutely brilliant, especially at sunset, but we were a conflicted by the extravagance, especially in a place where so many of the Buddhist congregation are struggling for basic necessities, yet being asked to contribute daily to the church. 

Activities around Yangon. The bottom left photo is a picture of one of the girls on the circle train. 

Shwedagon Pagota at sunset. The bottom middle picture shows the lines of volunteer sweepers cleaning the marble floors. 

On the day before our first overnight bus, we wandered the streets and viewed some of the colonial architecture in Yangon. We were stopped for almost two hours by a random local that talked our ears off (in English we could only half understand) about American and Myanmar politics. Correction, I should really say he talked Andy’s ear off, because he’s a man and sexism is real. Although after two hours we were more than ready to shake him, we did learn some interesting things about Myanmar’s culture, struggles, and corruption in the government. For example, in Myanmar, a man is not allowed to enter the home of a woman without her husband being present. Also, the former government was extremely corrupt, but the new head of the government is making many positive changes for the Myanmar people. Lastly, the locals (and apparently many Myanmar people) believe that America is exactly as Hollywood portrays it – therefore, we all love our president and honor him (He, “knows because he’s seen it in the movies”). We promptly corrected this stereotype. After escaping the talkative grip of the very friendly local, we made our way for $3/hour Thai foot massages before departing for Inle Lake.

Ye, Myanmar – November 29th – December 1st, 2016

After a typical minibus ride (by typical I mean cramped, uncomfortable, loud, and randomly dropped us off 4 km away from our actual destination), we arrived in Ye. Ye is a small town which is firmly off the beaten path for regular tourism. We made our way to one of the few hotels in town, which was a six room guesthouse owned by non-other than an expat American named David! He spent 11 years in Thailand before moving to Myanmar with his Thai wife and adopted daughter. It was a such luxury to be able to easily communicate with someone that lives locally.

Once settled into the guesthouse, we started wandering the small town. We visited a couple of pagodas, the picturesque lake in the center of town (which apparently used to be a moat), and the market. Since we are celebrities, we couldn’t be too surprised when we acquired a stalker. As a typical stalker is, he was very creepy. He followed us for almost an hour, attempting to be sneaky by passing where we turned and waiting for us to turn again. Problem was that he was terrible at stalking and it was very obvious that we were being followed. After not being able to shake him, we got up the nerve to directly confront him. Since we don’t speak Burmese, it’s doubtful that he understood, although one may think that if your stalkee calls you out, you might stop. Alas, he did not, and we eventually had to corner him inside a store and tell the locals he was following us (which they did not understand either). We then ducked into a café ourselves and lost him for good. 

Back at the guesthouse, and stalker free, we enjoyed hanging out with the owner’s eight year old daughter, Emma. She was quite the character and had the second best English language skills in town (after her Dad of course). We eventually ventured out for dinner and found some delicious local Thai food that ended up giving me a bit of an upset stomach. Worried the stomach problems would worsen (which they didn’t, WIN!), I stayed in while Andy went with David to his free English class. There were about 20 teenagers and adults eagerly learning English, and Andy had a great experience participating in the class with the locals.

On our only full day in Ye, we rented motorbikes from the guesthouse and toured the surrounding areas. Unlike Dawei, this time we were sure to bite off the appropriate amount. We went to Banana Mountain where the highlight was a nine story four-faced Buddha temple/building. We both had to borrow longyis (the traditional Myanmar skirt wrap) from the nuns at the entrance before ascending the stairs to a magnificent view of the surrounding countryside. After, we went to what the online travel guide said was a popular beach. It turned out to be more of an abandoned littered sand patch surrounded by rocks and a few restaurants (maybe it livens up in the evenings). Regardless, we went into one of the restaurants for a cold drink and enjoyed the music of a couple of locals that were practicing nearby. Next, we visited yet another Buddhist site where 500 monk statutes (literally, there were 500) were erected in one glorious line leading to a pagoda on the top of a hill. It was pretty spectacular!

Buddhist temple / pagoda mania. 

Buddhist temple / pagoda mania. Doesn't Andy look good in a skirt?

Around Ye and the "popular" beach area. Serious bonus points for anyone that can tell us what animal is pictured in the bottom right. We have no idea what it is, but it seemed to be the monastery's pet. 

500 Monks. For accuracy's sake, the top left photo is actually of Buddha statues at a nearby site. 

When we returned to Ye we were reunited with an amazing Scottish couple that we had met in Dawei a few days earlier. Together, we went to a local bar for drinks and dinner. Without a menu we could read, we winged it and ended up having a great time! After about 3-4 hours of surprisingly delicious cocktails, beer, fresh fish, chicken, vegetables, and great company, we were shocked when the bill arrived and turned out to be less than $25. Did I mention we consumed about 20 drinks in total?!  

Top left: David's free English class, top right: local musicians at the beach restaurant, bottom left: Andy and Craig trying Myanmar local whisky, bottom right: Andy demonstrating that we are way too tall for most everything in Myanmar (including stairwells). 

Except for the stalker, we really liked Ye and wish we could have spent another day there. Unfortunately, because the tourist infrastructure in Myanmar is still developing, we had been forced to book hotels in advance and a reservation in Yangon was waiting for us the next day. We boarded yet another bus early the next morning. At least our bellies were full. David had gotten up early and arranged for some pepyoke nanbya to be dropped off as part of our breakfast. Pepyoke nanbya, a traditional Myanmar dish created from Indian influence, is naan with a chickpea onion mixture inside – YUM! 

Dawei, Myanmar – November 26th – 29th, 2016

It turned out that opting for the flight option to Dawei was not only the correct decision, but an outstanding one: it was the easiest flight ever! We checked in and went through “security” which was really just a bag scan machine and handheld metal detector. They did not have any qualms about letting in bottled water, so we sat in the waiting area and enjoyed our water while talking to some other Americans that were also traveling through Myanmar. When it was time to board, the entire waiting room got up simultaneously and exited, showing their ticket on the way outside. We boarded through the back of the plane, picked a seat, and by the time we were situated, the cabin doors were closed, the plane taxiing, and the flight attendants doing a short safety briefing. Just as the flight attendants finished, the plane was airborne. Within 10 minutes of boarding, we were at elevation, and had been served fresh juice and a delicious pastry. We stopped in Myeik, a city along the way, where the plane dropped some passengers off and boarded others (including their baggage). You would think that this would take some time, but no, we were back in the air in approximately 7 minutes and were served yet another pastry and more juice. It was incredible! We reached out destination about 30 minutes after our scheduled departure time (oh yeah, I forgot to mention that we left 45 minutes early!).  

Cell service in Myanmar only started about five years ago. That being said, one would logically infer that reception and starting service would be difficult, but no, it turns out that only in the US is getting a cell phone plan a painful process. After five minutes and 4500 kyat (about $3.50) we had a sim card with coverage throughout the country and 500 Mb of data. This all from a local that hardly spoke English. Beat that Verizon!

Dawei, is a larger city (in comparison to Kawthaung) on the southern peninsula. On our first full day, we rented two semi-automatic motorbikes to tour the surrounding area. We had planned to see a giant reclining Buddha statue, visit a beach pagoda, and spend the rest of the time on a beach that we had heard was picturesque and completely undeveloped. We did manage to accomplish all of this, but our beach time turned out to be more like a beach moment because we did not arrive there until dusk. It was really more of a motorbike day since we spent about 7 hours on and 2 hours off the mini-motorbikes, which were by the way designed for people closer to a 5 ft. stature.  How did that happen you ask? Well, poor planning for one: to our surprise, the beach pagoda was about 2 hours away on a terribly maintained dirt road and was in the opposite direction as the picturesque beach. Also to our astonishment, it was not a pagoda on nice beach, but more of a pagoda build on some rocks with a short bridge to the mainland. Let’s just say it was not worth the 4-hour round-trip journey. 

Next, my motorbike got a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. Luckily, our Myanmar cell phone had full service, and we called the rental company who told us to keep driving (with a fully flat tire) to the nearest village and give the phone to a local. Since it appeared we had no other choice, we complied, and 5 kilometers later we stopped a villager coming out of his hut and told him (via charades) to wait a moment while we call someone. Since we’re celebrities, he agreed willingly. Several minutes later, he gave us his motorbike, he took mine, and we rode towards the nearest mechanic. Our friendly local arranged for the tire to be fixed (which by the way, is done in exactly the same way that a bicycle tire is changed) and we were on our way. We paid 3000 kyat (~$2.30) for a new tube and 20 minutes of labor for the mechanic (which was later reimbursed by the rental company). The villager that we had stopped stayed the entire time to help and see us off. So nice! 

The first half of our day trip around Dawei. 

At sundown, we finally arrived at the beach. It was spectacular, like nothing either of us had ever seen. The white sand beach extended as far as you could see in both directions with nobody in site but the occasional fisherman. We watched the sun lower in the horizon before grudgingly rushing back to town to avoid having to ride in the dark. Unfortunately, we again had underestimated how long it would take us to get back and we ended up riding white knuckled for over an hour in pitch blackness. Terrifying would be a mild way to describe that hour.

The second half of our day trip around Dawei. 

The next day in Dawei was much less exciting. We wandered the streets, ate some delicious food, and visited a bustling market and beautiful pagoda. At the pagoda, we met an overly zealous teenager who was excited to trade phone numbers with a couple of Americans. Since we will only have the Myanmar phone number for a couple of weeks, there was no harm in trading numbers. Here is what his first text to Andy read: “hi I am staying at the Monastery by the way. What time will u go to Yay on tomorrow? May I treat u and u lover on tomorrow I want to treat u Myanmar traditional food.” Unfortunately, our minibus left early in the morning and we could not join him, but we did refer him to another American which seemed to mollify him entirely. 

Photos taken around Dawei. On the top left is a game of Sepak Takraw, which is a mix between soccer and volleyball played with a woven ball. The players were incredible, doing (and landing) bicycle kicks as spikes!  

More photos taken around Dawei. On the top left is one of many motorbikes converted into trucks. On the bottom right is a very friendly woman making our Upha Moe, a traditional dessert from Dawei made with eggs, coconut milk, and rice. It was delicious!  

A quick note about some unhealthy habits in Myanmar: Although cigarettes seems to be less prominent than in other Asian countries, a chew called betel nut dominates the market. It consists of about six different mystery ingredients all wrapped up in a leaf. Not exclusive to men (although more men than women use it), betal nut absolutely wrecks their teeth. You can instantly tell which of them are hooked based on the red/black color of their teeth and destroyed gums. Additionally, the users spit massive amounts of red saliva all over the streets. Another unhealthy habit, although more unhealthy for the environment than the individual, is littering. Even though there are trashcans, most people simply discard their trash when they are done with it. This might be on the sidewalk, out the side of a tuk tuk, or thrown overboard on a boat. It is sad to see, especially in such a beautiful country, but unlike India, they do have street cleaners that are employed to collect and burn trash. Perhaps littering is actually a job creating ploy… doubtful.        

Kawthaung, Myanmar – November 24th – 26th, 2016

The four-hour long bus ride from Khao Lak north to Ranong, Thailand (on Thanksgiving, by the way) cost a whopping 165 thai bhat, or about $4.50. Unlike some of the bus rides we have endured over the last couple of months, the trip went surprisingly smoothly. Once in Ranong, we caught a taxi with some other travelers to the immigration office to cross the border into Myanmar. After being granted permission to leave Thailand, we were ushered onto a longtail boat by a friendly Burmese man that had been collecting all of the necessary documents for us (passport photocopies, boat manifest, etc). With the boat full of locals, we made our way across the channel towards Myanmar. The border crossing was, by far, the oddest one yet. The boat stopped four times at different port authorities, each located on a different mini island. There was one Thai, one Myanmar, and two mystery stops. Each time, our passports were given to the officers while we stayed in the boat. At one stop, our passports and all of the locals got off the boat to talk to authorities, but we stayed put. This was possibly because they wanted us to keep the two illegal hideaways company that were smuggled under the bow and stern of the boat. In addition to being completely bewildered as to what was going on, we also had to ward off the seemingly continuous reasons for why we owed US dollars to the boatmen. Each time we said no and told him we had pre-approved e-visas and shouldn’t be paying anything extra, and each time he shrugged his shoulders and dropped it for a few minutes before his next attempt. Persistence paid off though and we disembarked on Myanmar soil without having to fork over any more moola (besides the cost of the perplexing boat ride).

Ranong border crossing from Thailand to Myanmar.

Having now arrived in Myanmar, the real fun began. As before, we were instantly greeted by another Burmese man, who we assumed worked for the port authority. He helped us off the boat, made photocopies of our passports for the authorities (again!), and led us to the empty immigration building, where we waited for over a half hour for five officers to approve our already approved e-visas (again very perplexing, and more than a little stressful). Finally allowed to officially enter the country, the Burmese man, Johnny, led the way into Kawthaung. Along the way, he insisted (through the use of marginal to poor English) that we buy our onward travel tickets. Thinking that this was because we told immigration we were traveling on (and according the Johnny we were required to buy the tickets), we agreed to stop by the airlines and bus offices to get pricing. After he became increasingly pushy, we began to get the impression that perhaps he was not an employee of the immigration office, but a man trying to make a buck off of us. After about 30 minutes, he “allowed” us to go to our hotel first to drop our bags and decide if we wanted to fly or take a bus to our next destination. Without prompting, Johnny again, hurriedly led the way. He quickly got our room key from the reception desk and even walked us upstairs to our room and invited himself inside (SO uncomfortable!). After five very awkward minutes, we managed to shake Johnny by agreeing to meet him for a beer an hour later. At this point we still could not decide if it was compulsory that we comply with this very pushy little man. Asking the hotel staff proved pretty much useless since asking them who Johnny was almost resulted in them calling him for us. We were finally able to glean that he was a guide (and likely not affiliated with immigration). First off, what kind of a guide just assumes the responsibility without you actually hiring him!?!??!!!

After doing a little digging on the internet, we determined that the bus ride to Dawei was not 10 hours long, as Johnny had assured us, but really closer to 25 hours! Also, contrary to Johnny’s strongly worded opinion, the road is not in good condition and is not well-traveled (actually, before January of this year, tourists were not even allowed to travel on the one road connecting Kawthaung and Dawei in Southern Myanmar). Based on our strong desire to avoid another bus ride from hell, we opted for the $80, one and a half hour, flight option. Now thoroughly convinced that Johnny was full of shit, we ventured out on our own to get cash, buy airline tickets, and set up a tuk tuk driver for the following day’s activities (which by the way cost ~$26 not $85 as Johnny had said). All of our errands took less than an hour and half to complete on our own (go us!) and now on our way to dinner, it appeared that we had successfully shook Johnny as well.

Alas, Johnny found us on the street, and forced us into having that beer we had earlier agreed to (Little did we know, he had already been to our hotel room and knocked on the door. Stalker?!) This turned out to be one of the most uncomfortable dinners of either of our lives. Johnny got increasingly agitated as he discovered piece by piece that we had done everything without him. Between cussing at the waitress, he desperately started making up reasons why we will certainly perish without going with his motorbike friend (who by the way had also joined us at the table and drinking (presumably on our dime)). According to Johnny, the tuk tuks can’t make it up the “steep” mountain roads, the tuk tuk will flip backwards and he won’t help us when we are in the hospital, and he “never said it would cost 3,000 baht ($85), he said 3,000 kyat ($2.30)!” When his tactics didn’t work and we still insisted that we didn’t want a guide, Johnny got down right angry. We bought his two beers, five cigarettes, and his friends beer, and made our getaway without tipping him (much to his very audible frustration). Our main concern now was that he knew the location of our hotel room. Let’s just say this was not an ideal Thanksgiving dinner (the fare by the way was oily fried vegetables and rice).

Although Johnny had managed to ruin our first afternoon/evening in Kawthaung, all was well because WE…ARE…CELEBRITIES!!! Everywhere we went people watched us with a fascinated curiosity. The outgoing would excitedly say hello (mingalabar in Burmese) or take photos (often of us together with them) while others would just stare shyly. Regardless of their personality, if we said hello to them and waved, all would beam with the most genuine and wide smile you can imagine. It was like having the superpower to make anybody’s day just by acknowledging them. Many would instantly rush inside their shop or house to tell the rest of their family and friends. It was especially a treat to see the reactions of groups of beaming children!

For those of you that do not know, until recently, Myanmar (previously Burma), was closed to foreign travelers due to an army-induced isolation for the past 60 years. The southern part of Myanmar only started to allow westerners to visit in 2013 and there is still just a slow trickle visiting much of the region. It is only in the last three years that the Burmese people have seen a white person outside of the movies. Speaking of movies, it seems that the people actually believe that the USA is just like Hollywood portrays it. Who are we to burst their bubbles? We are, after all, celebrities! 

     

We only spent about two days in Kawthaung, but it was jammed packed with visiting the surrounding areas, wandering the streets, and accidently attending a Buddhist ceremony at the local pagoda. Our tuk tuk driver, Minthukha, first brought us to the picturesque Maliwan waterfall area. It was certainly beautiful, but the weather was marginal and the local crowd we were expecting were nowhere to be found (likely because it was 10am on a Friday). We explored the park and Andy took a dip in the water, but since I would have had to swim fully clothed, I settled for a cold foot bath. Next, we went to Palautone, a small island connected to the mainland by an extremely long wooden plank bridge. The village on the island was rustic at best, but extremely welcoming. We put on our best “Queen of England” smiles as we drove through town to the beach area. Even our driver was proud to show us off. In the evening, we ventured up the hill from our hotel to Pyi Daw Aya pagoda where we stumbled on what we think was Pagoda Day. Although we were 100% clueless as to what was going on, it was incredible! There were about 1,000 people sitting and listening to an announcer and monk conduct some sort of ceremony. The congregation chanted and bowed their heads in prayer at seemingly random times throughout the ceremony/celebration. We sat in the back and observed for a while before finally calling it a day.   

The sites around Kawthaung.

More of the sites around Kawthaung.

The next morning, we were wandering through town when a man excitedly stopped his motorbike to say hello to us. He enthusiastically asked if we would mind talking to him so he could practice his English. Of course, we complied, and within minutes he asked if we would follow him around the block to the school to meet his wife who was the school teacher. We agreed, and on arrival, he ushered us into his open concept shack/house where he invited us to sit while his wife hurriedly boiled some water for instant coffee. We sat and spoke with him and his wife for almost an hour before he gave us a ride back to our hotel on his motorbike. Although his wife was very shy to try her English (which was actually quite good), they were so genuine and kind. It was one of the most memorable times we have spent on the trip so far and more than offset the Johnny “the guide” extravaganza from the first day.  

The locals in Kawthaung. Our tuk tuk driver is on the left, while the amazing husband and wife are pictured on the right.