Sen Monorom, Cambodia – January 12th – 16th, 2017

Our minibus ride to Sen Monorom began on a promising note: the van showed up at our hotel on time and there seemed to be a fair amount of room for everyone. After a few stops around town to pickup a few other travelers, the driver pulled into the bus station, where he promptly left everyone in the bus with the engine running as he went to get some food. After over an hour of waiting and telling ourselves to just go with the flow and stop trying to control things, five more local passengers for the bus showed up and were squeezed into the back row of the van. The van then hurried on out of town towards Sen Monorom, picking up additional locals throughout the trip. At one point, there were 22 passengers plus their luggage in a 16-passenger van, a motorbike strapped to the back, and a grandmother and her grandchild sitting on a midget-sized plastic chair in the aisle right next to me. A few thoughts:

1. Passenger safety is clearly not a concern in the bus system in Cambodia, although there were, miraculously, seat belts for those lucky enough to have real seats (we really did have a moment akin to Christmas morning when we saw them). The small plastic chairs in the aisles definitely did not have seat belts, but reminded us of the buses in Nepal.
2. The bus systems in SE Asia seem to work like magic for the locals who have somehow arranged for pickups and drop-off along the bus route, but they are usually opaque and undecipherable for foreigners. You just never know what you’re going to get: if you’ll actually be picked up at your hotel or not (or if they forgot), when/where/how many times you’ll stop at questionable food vendors, if you’ll actually be dropped off at the location you were lucky enough to have extracted from the bus ticket seller, etc etc. The second you think you have figured it all out and are on top of the bus system (in one country anyway), something happens on the next trip that throws everything you thought you understood about the system out the window.
3. We would not be surprised to learn that the drivers have some sort of bet going for who can get to a destination the fastest. Our driver on this occasion, drove in the center of the road forcing everyone else, including on-coming traffic, to swerve off the road to avoid a head-on collision. Even though the speed limit was posted 40 km/h we were averaging closer to 120 km/h.   

Suffice to say that travel days, specifically bus/minibus travel days, are our least favorite part of international travel. Okay, rant over.

After witnessing numerous attempts at vehicular manslaughter, we were finally dropped off in the center of town in Sen Monorom. We were deposited onto a red dirt parking lot with impressive views of the surrounding hills. The air was noticeably drier and cooler. In one direction, there were hills covered in pine trees, while in the other, the hills were covered with lush jungle. After a short pickup truck ride to the hotel, we were checked in, settling into our bungalow, and said hello to the ants that shared the room with us. With only dirty clothes remaining, we were desperate to do laundry. Although we asked the hotel for a bucket, they refused us, saying that we needed to walk into town to use a laundry service. They could not however, tell us where a laundry service place was in the small town. Also, 2 out of the 3 times we have used a laundry service over the past 4 months, we have not had all of our clothing returned. Our paranoia over losing more of our precious clothing (and that they charge almost $1 per item) led to us spending the next 2 hours washing our clothes in the shower. This was not an easy task. I really dislike handwashing clothes to begin with and having to do it without a bucket or sink was just miserable. We had to rinse each item under the water, sprinkle soap on it, rub it all together and squeeze to get it as soapy as we could, then rinse it (under water with no pressure) to get out as much soap and grime as we could. And then you have to squeeze the shit out of the item to get as much water out as possible (I have resorted to twisting my clothes but I’m slightly more gentle with Dani’s), and then finally you try to squeeze the item onto the clothes line with the rest of the mass of slightly cleaner clothes. Ugh. Anyway, after that cost-saving experience, we headed into town for some pool, drinks, and dinner.

We spent most of the next morning working out and doing more laundry. Needless to say, Dani picked a tough workout, but it felt good to focus on our health for an hour. Also, it is much easier for us to relax and enjoy the rest of our day with all of those endorphins running through our systems after a morning workout. So, we headed into town where we rented the nicest motorbike ever (the speedometer worked!!!). As recommended by the Swedish owner of the restaurant we ate at the previous evening, we drove about 30 minutes south of town to the village of Dak Dam. It was such a picturesque little village: it was surrounded by hills and the lush greens of the forests and fields contrasted so beautifully with the red dirt tracks. After spending a little while in awe of the beauty, we headed east for about an hour to the large Bousra waterfalls. We probably would have enjoying the waterfalls more if the sun had been out and we had brought our bathing suits, but it was still very nice, just not sure if it was worth two hours of travel. Back in town and with the sun beginning to go down, we checked out a few of the locally well-known hilltop viewpoints including the “Seaforest Viewpoint” (the view really looked like a sea, but it was actually a forest). The rest of the evening was spent taking it easy, getting a few research errands done, and eating some meh veggie pizza.

Motorbike tour of Sen Monorom area including Dak Dam village, Bousra Waterfall, and the sea forest 

The following morning began our excursion with the Mondulkiri Project, a locally owned and run elephant sanctuary and ecotourism company. The trip started with a wild off-road drive where we hung on for dear life in the bed of truck while the driver tackled some pretty hairy tracks. At the project’s “jungle lodge”, we were lectured for an hour by the project’s owner, Mr. Tree. He ranted and raved about how his project is better for the locals than the others and that it truly cares for the elephants and they spent $41k on an elephant last year, etc. etc. etc. All very good things except that he was basically yelling it at us like someone might to a nasty rival. The delivery was pretty intense but the message seemed genuine: this project really does take the elephants’ well-being and the local community’s future seriously. Next, we all grabbed a few bunches of bananas and headed down to meet and feed the four elephants for a few hours. The four elephants were Lucky (super lazy, she requires you to put the bananas directly into her mouth), Sophie (super banana greedy), Princess (she seemed to poop a lot), and Comvine (the biggest, youngest and bossiest). It was incredible to be so up close and personal with these gentle giants (think massive puppies). After a few hours for lunch and the typical Cambodian afternoon break, we met back up with Princess and Comvine to wash them in the river. The whole group was in the river with the elephants, splashing water on them, scrubbing them, and feeding them bananas. It was so amazing! And then, Princess became so relaxed that she pooped (again) in the river. Not exactly wanting to swim with the basketball-sized elephant turds, everyone quickly exited the river and Princess left. Afterward, we learned from the guide that she does that every single day. Thanks for the warning! Then we hurried over to a different watering hole where Lucky and Sophie would give us a bathing show, but instead they just walked through the water to the other side. The Mondulkiri Project doesn’t allow their elephant carers (mahouts) to ride the elephants or force them to do anything at all, case in point: not forcing them to take a bath if they don’t want to. This was in a stark contrast to the elephants we saw, rode on, and bathed while in Nepal (see Chitwan National Park blog post); we felt very ashamed for doing exactly what Mr. Tree had earlier told us was inhumane. Throughout the rest of the evening, we watched our local guide cook veggie stew in a bamboo stalk over a fire (it smelled and tasted delicious), chatted with our new friends from our trekking group, and played telephone-pictionary.

The amazing elephants of the Mondulkiri Project

Clockwise from top left: our Bunong guide cooking bamboo shoot stew, a local Cambodian girl unimpressed by the utterly terrifying pickup truck ride, some of our group in the pickup bed, Dani trying out her hammock after lunch, and our uncomfortable but communal digs for our night in the forest

Trekking in the Mondulkiri forest

After spending a somewhat restless night in hammocks, we awoke to an overcast and dreary day over the jungle. So what do you do when you know it’s going to rain? You go for an 18km trek through the jungle! We trekked for 7 hours up and down hills, saw a few beautiful and secluded waterfalls, a tiny cave inhabited by two grasshoppers, forded a river, and walked through lots and lots of wet jungle. We arrived in the early evening to our guide’s home in Bunong village. After strolling down the singular village street, surrounded by children, piglets, and dogs, a couple of trekkers grabbed hands with some of the kids and began swinging them by their arms. The game caught on quickly and by the time we had to leave the village we had all joined hands with about 30 village children to create a giant tourist/kid swinging circle. It was an incredible experience! The children’s behavior also proved to us what we learned in India: that kids can be obsessively focused on one thing over and over again. That evening back at the hotel, we tried to pass it all on by sharing the amazing two-day experience with other travelers that had just arrived in town.

Bunong village at the end of our 18km trek

Kids are kids no matter what culture they are raised in

Kratie, Cambodia – January 9th – 12th, 2017

Besides taking three hours longer than scheduled and the seat in front of Andy being stuck fully reclined, the bus ride to Kratie went well (our standards for what constitutes a good bus ride have changed significantly). After eating dinner at our NGO hotel (which doubles as a training center for young Cambodians to enter the tourist industry) and taking a short walk around the smallish river town, we watched the movie “The Killing Fields”. For those who haven’t seen the movie, it’s a must watch (perhaps on a rainy day).

Thanks to an extraordinarily vocal Cambodian rooster, who apparently was severely confused about what time dawn is, we slept like shit. The only bonus to being awake most of the night, is that by the time the sun gets up, you figure you might as well too. By 10 am, we had gone for a run along the river, eaten breakfast, showered, packed our bags, and were on the ferry across the river to Koh Trong island. We rented decrepit bicycles and rode with our ever-expanding backpacks to our homestay. Our homestay had apparently decided to ignore our reservation and booked a tour group of 12 Frenchmen instead, leaving us to stay at a neighbor’s house. Although we were admittedly a bit put off at first, it turned out that we likely got a significantly better experience with the neighboring family who weren’t as used to having tourists in and out every night. For the rest of the day, we rode our bicycles around the 9 km loop twice, took a dip in the river, conversed with friendly locals, and watched the sun go down over the river. Back at our homestay, we watched Cambodian TV with the family while communicating mostly with charades and smiles. Our only verbal communication was through the outgoing young girl who was learning English at school. It was clear that so far, her English skills consist of counting, “What is your name?”, and “How old are you?”. To be fair, she is way farther along in English than we are in speaking Khmer!

Around Koh Trong.

Homestay on Koh Trong. The dog in Andy's lap literally climbed into the hammock and made himself comfortable. 

We woke up early the next morning from our rock hard “bed” (thanks again to yet another vocal rooster) and made our way back to the mainland. From Kratie, we rented a $5 motorbike and went to explore the surrounding area. Our first stop was a hilltop pagoda with meh views and very creepy murals. The paintings depicted all of the terrible things that will happen to you if you do not follow the path of Buddha. Among the more grotesque murals showed naked women receiving stick enemas by devilish-looking men, while a rabid dog ate one woman’s privates. Apparently fear tactics are used in Buddhism too. Next, we enjoyed a coconut at a river rapid overlook surrounded by countless hammocks. For some reason, after we had been there over an hour, a local came by and forcefully told us to leave. We were perplexed by this, but ended up chalking it up to the fact that we had gone to the locals side to avoid paying the $4 fee on at the identical tourist destination next door… Back on the motorbike we continued north to 100-pillar pagoda in the town of Sambok. Our last stop was along the river, where we hired a boatman to take us to see the endangered Irrawaddy dolphins. We were shocked by how many dolphins we saw, especially considering that there are less than 100 of these river dolphins left in the entire world! Lucky for us, Andy got an amazing photo within the first five minutes so we didn’t have to be preoccupied with the camera. 

Motorbike day around Krati. Right after we took the adorable picture of the dog with his toy in the bottom-right corner, he started making love to it. 

Irrawaddy dolphins.

Unfortunately, our rooster friend back at the hotel had not given up his quest for insomnia and our last night in Kratie was as sleepless as the first had been. I would not be opposed to someone murdering that rooster. Nevertheless, before we left Kratie, we people watched while enjoying good cheap food at a restaurant across from the market. As you can see in the photos, Cambodian women have elected to make PJs a style. This is one fashion statement that I fully support and plan to bring back to the western world asap (I can try anyway, and if it doesn’t catch on, at least I’ll have worn PJs all day).

Around Kratie. Our rooster friend is in the bottom-left under the cage. 

Phnom Penh, Cambodia – January 5th – 9th, 2017

In contrast to bus travel days, the flights from Chiang Mai to Bangkok to Phnom Penh, Cambodia went incredibly smoothly. Within minutes of clearing immigration (which was bewilderingly disorganized) and picking up our luggage, we got cell phone coverage at one of the booths outside the airport. For $8 we got a sim card, 4 GB of data, and 60 min. of talk time with nationwide coverage. We were yet again floored by how unnecessarily complicated and expensive it is to get a cell phone plan in the US!  We took a tuk tuk to our hotel, settled in, and went out to dinner near our hotel (which was very nice by the way – I think we got far too comfortable in Chiang Mai and we were unable to lower our standards right away).

As the capital city of Cambodia, one of the main tourist attractions in Phnom Penh is the genocide history museum and killing fields. However, since our first full day in Phnom Penh (January 6^th) was my 31^st birthday and I did not want to be even more depressed on the day I turned one year older, we held off on visiting the genocide sites until the following day. Instead, Andy planned a full day of activities, starting with a Khmer boxing and self-defense class. The class was through a non-profit organization (NGO) which provides a translator so local artists (and in this case, boxing coaches) can teach tourists their craft. Even though the “boxing gym” was actually just rubber mats set out on a slanted dirt floor behind a house (concrete slab structure) which backed up to a cesspool, we had an incredible time. Our coach was very passionate about boxing and even trains many boxers who compete professionally in Cambodia. Through his instruction, we learned how to take down an opponent with barely exerting any effort at all! We really enjoyed practicing on each other. After boxing, we went back to the hotel to attempt to scrub all the skin off our now black (and definitely diseased) feet, before heading out to a Khmer restaurant for lunch. Sticking with the NGO theme, the restaurant was a training center for impoverished young adults to enter the hospitality/tourism industry. Although the restaurant also served fried tarantulas (a local favorite), the food was delicious! Across the street from our lunch spot was a day spa where Andy (the saint husband) had arranged for me to spend 2 hours getting a traditional Khmer massage while he picked up cupcakes from a local bakery. I blew out a virtual candle and we chowed down on cupcakes in a riverside park. After walking through the French quarter and people watching along the river, we made our way to the restaurant Andy had made a reservation at for dinner (see the photo collage to see how necessary the reservation was – spoiler alert: we were the only people there). The food was good and the price was right: our entire meal came out to less than $5! Even though I had to swallow the fact that I am gradually approaching “old”, it was an incredible birthday!

My birthday in Phnom Penh.

We knew that traveling full time would have its challenges, yet one of the challenges we did not foresee is the lack of control over your diet and inability to work out regularly. Although you walk a lot, eating out three meals a day and never getting your heart rate above mild exertion does not exactly lend well to feeling good about yourself. So, in an attempt to prioritize exercise, the day after my birthday, we ventured to the 1964 Olympic stadium for a stair workout. I have a track record (pun intended) of creating impossible workouts and forcing myself (and in this case Andy too) to finish the workout – this was no different. I seriously almost threw up. Thanks to my extreme stubbornness, we did, however, finish the workout and felt quite accomplished for doing so. Now sweaty and exhausted, we walked to S21, a museum on the site of a genocide torture camp. The old high school was converted to a prison and torture camp after the Khmer Rouge gained power in 1975. The classrooms had been cleared to make room for torture devices and about 6 square foot cells with shackles to hold prisoners between torture sessions. Here, city dwellers and anybody with an education (teachers, engineers, doctors, foreigners, people that were bilingual, etc.) were tortured until they confessed to being spies, cohorts to the CIA, or in some way opponents of the Khmer Rouge. After the prisoner confessed, they (and the rest of their family) were immediately sent to the killing fields for execution. I’ll go into more of the horrors and our impressions of the genocide history in a later paragraph… After collecting ourselves and arising from a shocked stupor, we made our way to a local TV studio to watch some live Khmer boxing. Although neither of us are too keen on watching two people beat the crap out of each other, it was a really cool experience. The Cambodian people are VERY into their boxing.

Day 2 in Phnom Penh. 

The next day, we visited a market and spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon strolling the streets of Phnom Penh. We saw Independence Monument and the White Building, which is a massive rundown building which houses many poor families. In the afternoon, we made our way to Cheung Ek, better known as the Killing Fields. Similar to S21, we utilized an audio tour to make our way through the grounds while learning about the horrific history of the site. The Cambodians do not hold back when attempting to educate and prevent a re-occurrence: there is a massive monument in the center of the site which is filled to the top with skulls and bones of some of the victims (including babies and children) that were murdered there. Additionally, remains of clothing and fragments of human bones scatter the hundreds of mass graves around the site. At S21, large graphic photographs show the victims that were found dead in the classrooms you were visiting. You can’t blame them for being upfront, after all, 1 in 4 Cambodians (about 2 million people) were murdered or starved to death at the hand of their own people in a span of less than 4 years. 

Now stunned and pensive, we made our way to a rooftop bar overlooking Phnom Penh to watch the sunset and discuss the terrible truths about the genocide and unfortunately, the US’ involvement. We were shocked to find out that the US dropped more bombs on Cambodia between 1969 and 1973 than all of the Allies combined during World War 2. Our country murdered over 100,000 Cambodian people by carpet bombing rural areas to “cut off Vietnamese supply routes”. When the US withdrew in 1975, they left the country in turmoil. Just three days after the US’ retreat, the Khmer Rouge took power over the Khmer Republic, the military coup in power, which had been backed by the USA. Rightfully so, many Cambodian people were thrilled, believing that they had conquered the US, the country which had brought fear and death to their country over the previous decade. Unfortunately, the Angkar, the leaders of the Khmer Rouge, had a diabolical plan to create a utopian communist society. The core premise involved empowering uneducated and angry young men and women from rural areas to carry out the Angkar’s plan. Within 48 hours of taking power, city dwellers were forced out of their homes to work in labor camps farming rice (even though nobody knew how to farm). Two classes of people were created, the city dwellers and anybody with an education (the “new people” who were persecuted), and the farmers and villagers (the “old people” who were elevated to power). The basic idea was to abolish education and create an ignorant mass which was easy to manipulate and control in order to sustain the new self-sufficient agrarian society. These ignorant masses were forced to torture and murder anybody the Angkar deemed capable of rising against the Khmer Rouge. To tie up loose ends, the entire family of the victims, including babies and children, were also murdered and thrown in mass graves. Apart from the shock of learning this horrific truth, we were absolutely appalled that none of this is taught in the US curriculum (at least for both of us, the “secret war” and Cambodian genocide history was never mentioned at either the high school or college level). If we are truly to learn from the past, perhaps teaching it would be a good start.

Day 3 in Phnom Penh. In the top right picture I am attempting to open a coconut after drinking the coconut water. The center and center-left photos were taken at Cheung Ek. 

As far as big cities go, Phnom Penh is pretty great. The city does not feel overcrowded and the people are ridiculously friendly and genuine (although perhaps slightly more shy than the Burmese). The spattering of old French colonial buildings makes the architecture interesting and wandering the streets is rewarded with lively neighborhoods and an abundance of friendly locals. We were shocked to see that many locals were sporting US apparel (shirts and hats with US flags) and were very friendly towards us – even after we told them we were Americans. After bombing their people, then retreating and abandoning them in their darkest hour, we would have thought they would be spiteful at best. However, after many formal apologies from US presidents and millions of dollars in aid, it seems that the majority have forgiven and are keen to move on. After all, the Khmer Rouge operated under great secrecy and most of the world was supposedly “ignorant” to what was happening while they were in power. Inexcusable perhaps, is the fact that not only did the US and the rest of the world turn a blind eye, but we actually funded the Khmer Rouge both during their reign and after the Vietnamese had forced them from power. Yup, we were shocked too… 

Chiang Mai, Thailand– December 20th, 2016 – January 5th, 2017

Thanks to a tip from our southern Myanmar friends from Scotland, we landed a gig in Chiang Mai housesitting for an ex-pat family that live just outside the city. Since we were arriving about a week before their vacation started, the family graciously invited us to stay in their guesthouse and enjoy the holiday season with them. Comprised of an American mom, Swiss dad (who happens to also be a mechanical engineer), two amazing bi-lingual kids, a golden retriever named Ginger, and two Thai cats named White Toes and Da Diaow (Thai for One Eye), the family welcomed us warmly and we instantly felt like part of the family. The house was also incredible – we had a full guest house to ourselves, the outside area was huge and comfortable, and there was a pool (which we never use, but still, it was there)!

Animal love!

We spent the days leading up to Christmas enjoying family life, relaxing, going on a hike, baking pies (to be fair, Andy was the only one who baked pies), exercising (also to be fair, I was the only one exercising), and frequenting the western style grocery store. On Christmas Eve, we went with the family to a Swiss restaurant, where we had Raclette (oh cheese, how I’ve missed you!). On Christmas morning, we were shocked to discover that the family had even given us stockings with little Thai foods and snacks to try – it was incredible! Although this was the first Christmas either of us had spent away from family and/or friends, being included in their Christmas festivities felt almost like being back at home. Since Christmas fell on a Sunday this year and most Thai people do not celebrate Christmas (although, strangely the malls still do), we ventured out on our rented motorbike to the Chiang Mai Sunday Market. Arriving early while the vendors were still setting up, we decided to first go see Wat Chedi Laung, a famous Buddhist temple in Chiang Mai’s old city. The manicured landscaping, beautiful buildings, and partially restored collapsed temple were very nice (although we were still pretty templed out from Bagan). With the market in full swing, we walked through the hundreds of handicraft and food vendors which spanned the entire width of the old city center. To say the market was massive would be an understatement. The highlight of the market was the most amazing chewy sweet potato balls – I will never be able to find or replicate the awesomeness... depressing. 

Ex-pat life in Chiang Mai. The top middle picture shows the Swiss Restaurant that was walking distance from the house.  

Temples and markets around Chiang Mai. In the bottom left is an extraordinarily creepy wax sculpture of a monk. 

Our stay in Chiang Mai could not have been better! Having not stayed in one place for longer than a week over the last six months, we were in serious need for a break (not to mention overdue for some animal therapy). On top of an excessive amount of R&R (I partook in almost 6 hours’ worth of massages in two weeks, costing less than $50 total), shopping, and quality time with the pets, we finally caught up on trip planning and blogging (although just barely, since I am writing this on the plane on our way to Phnom Penh). As part of our two weeks of massage mania, we stopped at a fish spa where little fish eat all the dead skin off your feet and legs. If you’ve ever gotten electric stem therapy, it felt a lot like that, but with the added benefit of having callus free feet when you are done. We also took a half day, 5-course Thai cooking class where we made and ate some of the best food we’ve had in Thailand so far (toot toot, our food was delicious!). Added bonus, was that the chef taught me how to substitute fish and oyster sauce/paste for ingredients that don’t make me want to hurl. Overall, Chiang Mai and the surrounding suburbs took us by surprise. The abundance of ex-pats, approximately one gigantic mall per city block, and easy public transit made us feel like we were in the Western world again (or at least Kuala Lumpur). The ex-pats that can find work seem to have it made – great weather, surrounding mountains, good health care, and best of all, you can live at a very high standard for pennies on the dollar.

Cooking class and fish spa.

On New Year’s Eve, we ventured out into the city for a few hours before returning to the house to countdown to 2017 with Ginger, White Toes, and Da Diaow. They were not great company since they slept right through our countdown, but it was better than driving our motorbike 20 minutes out of town in scary traffic after midnight. Additionally, we are old, midnight is super late, and partying by ourselves is a bit lonely (we miss our friends… sad). While in the city, we went to the night bazaar, listened to some terrible Thai bands (and one incredible one), found and ate more sweet potato balls, and lit off our first ever paper lantern (aka UFO).  

New Years Eve! The female drummer in the bottom left photo was incredible! 

Another highlight of our stay was completing the Somloeng Loop on our 100 cc motorbike. The 100 km (60 mi) loop winds through the beautiful countryside and mountains west of the city. Loaded down with two western sized people, our poor bike struggled to make it up the hills and alternatively the brakes struggled to slow down our inertia (nerd out moment) on the steep descents. The trip was not comfortable or fast, but we really enjoyed it. We stopped at a strawberry farm, bought strawberry wine, had a delicious Thai lunch in Somloeng, and overall, appreciated being outside of the hustle of the city. Since our time in Thailand up until this point had been spent in the south (which is very touristy), Hat Yai (which is a massive city), and Chiang Mai (which has easily accessible western conveniences), the Somloeng Loop was the first time we experienced smaller Thai villages and farms. It was nice to spend some time in a more authentic setting (or what we perceived as authentic anyway).

Around the Somloeng Loop.

The two weeks we spent in Chiang Mai went by so fast. Although excited to experience Cambodia, we were sullen to be leaving the comforts and ease of our house-sit home. We were also sad to be leaving the family and our new furry friends. Hopefully we will be able to swing a return visit in the coming years J.  

Mandalay, Myanmar – December 18th – 20th, 2016

Mandalay was our last stop in Myanmar. Consequently, it was also our last minibus ride in Myanmar, therefore the universe thought it only appropriate to make the bus trip, yet again, unforgettable. Having left on time, in our seats in the front row (where I usually don’t get car sick), and with a driver who seemed to pay attention to the road and drive at appropriate speeds, the trip began looking like it might actually go smoothly. How wrong we were. About 30 minutes in, the poor girl seated directly behind me began to throw up. This continued approximately every 15 minutes for the remainder of the 6-hour ride. Between actual puking was quiet dry heaving and other sick related noises, which only the select lucky few seated next to her, got the pleasure of hearing. Each time her plastic puke bag was full, she would reach forward and ask me to open the window so she could put the puke bag right next to my face while dropping it out the window. I spent the entire bus ride hunched forward to be as far away from her as possible. Once we arrived at the bus station in Mandalay, the passengers were ushered onto a truck tuk tuk (songthauw) where the poor girl continued to be sick. To be fair, we were very close to joining her, since the ride to our hotel was far and beyond the most terrifying drive of our lives. The driver literally drove as if we were in a Hollywood chase scene – swerving through traffic at high speeds while forcing motorcyclists, other cars, and pedestrians off the road (all while we were unbuckled, seated sideways on long skinny benches in the bed of the truck). It was a miracle we arrived safely at our hotel.

We got a few research and blog items taken care of at the hotel before heading out to explore the city. We figured we would walk to Mandalay Hill, a temple complex on top of a nearby hill with good views of the city, and watch sunset. Sounds nice right? Well, it was, except Mandalay Hill was about an hour and a half away from the hotel (walking) and then an additional 45 minutes to the top. So, to make it in time for sunset, we hired, and somehow both squeezed, onto a motorcycle taxi, which hauled us to the bottom of the hill. We basically had to run up the many many stairs to beat the sun falling below the horizon. Our planning and time management weren’t perfect, but we made it and the sunset views over the city were definitely worth the rush. After sundown, we met back up with our moto taxi driver, Munjo. For $2.50, he spent the remainder of the evening with us, driving us to some of the temple sites, and dropping us off at a restaurant by our hotel for dinner. The guide book said that one of the Buddhist temples, Kuthodaw Pagoda, housed the “largest book in the world”. It took us a confused while to learn that it was not actually a book book, but an accumulation of 729 white stupas, each housing a page from the “book” written on a massive concrete slab. After the seemingly excessive number of pagodas and enormous Buddha statutes we have seen over the last month, this seemed to be a bit overkill. I would not be remotely surprised if Myanmar turned out to be the World’s #1 consumer of concrete. Before leaving Munjo for the night, we negotiated with him for two moto taxis for the following day’s transportation. We ended up saving about $20 compared to the rate given at our hotel! Fair to say our negotiating skills have improved significantly since the beginning of the trip.

Mandalay Hill, Kuthodaw Pagoda, and women making roti at the Indian street restaurant we went to for dinner.  

Our motobike tour around Mandalay started in the early morning at the world’s largest Jade market. The combination of China’s jade craze and Myanmar’s abundance of natural resources makes jade a very lucrative industry. The insanity of the market was compounded by the fact that we had no idea what was going on. There were massive jade rock sellers on the outside, while in the gated off section of the market, men scurried around with jade pieces on white trays to hundreds of inspectors lining the street. The inspectors would take a piece of jade, look at it with a fancy flashlight, then hand it back with zero emotion. Apart from the very confusing jade transactions (where no currency or communication was exchanged) there were numerous jade cutters, polishers, and jewelry sized jade vendors.

Next, we ventured to Mahamuni temple. The main attraction at the temple is an ancient giant Buddha statue which has been covered with thin pieces of gold foil (referred to as gold leaf). Over the past century, Buddhist men have been donating gold leaf by sticking them on Buddha’s legs – which have now, as a result, created a Buddha with elephantiasis. Thanks to the thick layer of gold leaf, his legs are now completely disproportionate to the rest of his body and have become bumpy with ski moguls of gold. Women cannot be blamed for the Buddha statues disfiguration since they are not allowed near him for fear that we may bleed on him (no kidding, Buddhists believe that the impurity of a woman’s monthly cycle makes us unfit to be near certain Buddha statues and inside specified temples). Besides the absurdity of this logic, the funniest part is that for the past several months, Andy and I joked that, “I wasn’t allowed in because they were afraid I would bleed all over Buddha.” We could not believe that we were actually right!!! Also, at Mahamuni temples were bronze statues that were originally from Ankor Wat in Cambodia. They were confiscated by a Myanmar king in the 1500's after he won a victory over Thailand. The people believe that your illness or pain will be cured by rubbing the corresponding area on the statue.  

Jade market and Mahamuni temple. 

After petting the back of a 1000 year old bronze statue, we wandered the nearby streets, where stone carvers were busy at work creating more concrete Buddha statues. Regardless of the fact that we think they have enough Buddha statues already, the carvers were incredibly talented (I guess they’ve had plenty of practice). These guys could seriously use some PPE though, as respirator or face shield where nowhere to be found while the grinding dust hung thick in the air. Next, we made a quick stop at a wood carving shop, where the carpenters were equally talented. All of the complex wood sculptures were hand carved with a hammer and chisel while holding the piece of wood down with their bare feet.

Next stop was Mahagandayon Monastery. Here, hundreds of monks line up for mealtime, while an approximately equal number of tourists take photos of them. It felt a bit like the monks were animals in the zoo, ignoring all the people who had come to watch and take pictures of them. After most of the zoo crowd left, we wandered through the massive monastery and played with some puppies.

Artists and the monk zoo.

Now close to noon, we ventured outside Mandalay city proper to the island of Inwa, the political center of Burma between the 14^th and 19^th centuries. We took a boat over and ate some lunch at an overpriced tourist restaurant before hiring a horse cart to take us around the island. The ride was not in the least bit comfortable, but we did enjoy it. We stopped along the way to see a beautiful teak monastery with massive wood pillars which were erected with the help of working elephants, the ruins of an old pagoda, a leaning watchtower which has sustained damage from multiple earthquakes, and a spectacular historic white monastery. Between stops, our horse brought us through fields and small local villages. Scattered throughout the journey were the remains of the old palace walls and ruins that reminded you that this was once a bustling capital city.

Around Inwa. 

The last stop on our journey was Amarapura and U Dein bridge. Amarapura is the youngest of the “ancient” capital cities surrounding Mandalay, while U Dein bridge is the longest teak bridge in the world. We wandered around for a couple hours, ate our last bowl of Shan noodle soup, watched some traditional fishermen catch tiny fish with a massive net, and waited for the sun to go down. The bridge made a stunning back drop for sunset.

U Dein Bridge at sunset and photos with our respective motobike taxi drivers. 

Exhausted, our motorbike taxis dropped us off at our hotel just after sunset. It was hard for us to believe that our time in Myanmar was over. No offense to the others, but hands down, Myanmar has been our favorite country so far. The heavily touristy areas were justifiably well traveled, while venturing off the beaten path was rewarded by people and places that were remarkably genuine and raw. It has been conflicting to witness the rapid changes taking place in a country that was previously so isolated from the rest of the world. Although they are developing and many changes are clearly for the best, we fear that the cultural authenticity that makes Myanmar unique will fade amongst the Western influence in the coming years.