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Myanmar: Mount Popa

The drive to Mount Popa from Bagan took over 2 hours due to the bumpy, potholed roads. It threatened the loss of an amazing lunch we had eaten at Secret House beforehand. Fried duck, fish in curry sauce, green beans with peppers, stir-fried vegetables, and coconut rice. It was the best meal we had in Myanmar. The duck was melt-in-your-mouth good and the coconut rice was creamy tasting and delicious.

The first glimpse of Mount Popa, an extinct volcano, was pretty spectacular. The entire area is carpeted by a lush green forest that extends for as far as the eye can see. The volcanic ash, together with the springs and streams in the area, provide the perfect fertile ground for growing fruits, trees, and plants. We spotted many nurseries along the side of the road selling dragonfruit and flowering plants. To the southwest, the volcanic plug of Taung Kalat (pedestal hill) juts up from its surroundings. The people believe that the shrine at its top is home to powerful Nats or animist spirits, making it a popular pilgrimage site for Burmese.

The climb up the 777 steps to the top of Mount Popa was treacherous in an unexpected way. The first half of the climb was under a roof flanked by stores selling flowers and touristy trinkets. The second half was out in the elements where the tile steps were slippery from the rain. Because it is a part of the temple, we also had to walk it barefoot.

 

Along the way gangs of macaque monkeys jumped from tree to tree and fought each other like the Jets and the Sharks, complete with bellowing and screeching sound effects. They are not shy with people and will approach in search for food. Women carrying flowers are their favorite targets. Our guide, Tut, told us that late afternoon is the most dangerous time for humans to navigate up and down the stairs. It is when the monkeys rule the mountain. Keep everything you don’t want taken away by the monkeys out of sight!

We trekked up with Burmese of all ages who have traveled from near and far to worship the Nats. There are a few versions of the lore of how this place came to be the famous home of the spirits. Like most things in Myanmar. Even though the animist tradition is unrelated to Buddhism and preceded it, many Burmese subscribe to both sets of beliefs. It seems in parts of the world where history stretches for thousands of years, superstition is as natural as shadows in a forest.

There is a saying in Thai, “If you don’t believe, don’t disrespect.” Even if we do not share the same belief as another, it should not stop dialogue between all sides. Myanmar has a complicated past and present. There are things the government is doing that I fundamentally disagree with. But being here opened my eyes and mind to its people. As we watched a rainbow arch over the majestic landscape after heavy rainfall, it was easy to see why many Burmese revere this lyrical place.

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Myanmar: Bagan sunrise

That first night in Bagan, I woke up to a weight at the end of my bed. My first thought was of Laurie waking me up for our rendezvous with the sunrise. When I felt the weight slipping under the cover I realized I was either dreaming or experiencing something closer to a ghost encounter.

In a city as ancient as Bagan, it is easy to imagine coexisting with spirits and superstitions. But exhaustion won out fear, and the only thing I could muster was a request to the spirit/bad dream to go away. When the real Laurie woke me up at 4:45 AM, I was still exhausted from a night too short. But even with disrupted sleep, sunrise over Bagan is not something you miss.

We rented electric motorbikes from our hotel for 1,500 kyat each ($1.10 U.S.). We rode in the dark to Thitsarwadi temple, one of the many ancient temples near our hotel. It was pretty easy to find with instruction from our guide. Go past the Dhammayazika temple (the big golden pagoda was hard to miss), turn on a small road, then when you see a small sign, turn off to a dirt road around the bend on the right. It took us about 15 minutes to get there.

The temple was small unlike the Shwesandaw, the Sunset pagoda we were at the day before. We climbed up the steep steps and found we were not alone. Several early birds with heavy-duty professional cameras around their necks were already sitting on the edges of the brick overhang. They were waiting the perfect moment to capture the sunrise.

Armed with our mighty iPhones we stood in a scene reminiscing of the movie ‘City of Angels’.  We were like the angels at the beach listening to the tinking of the bells as the sun rose. It was – and I don’t use this word often – magical.

Soon the morning ray peeled open the cloak of darkness and bathed the valley around us with warm orange light, revealing red brick temple tops and its green surrounding. Watching it unfold to the soundtrack of Gymnopedies was peace epitomized. It is human nature to want to find our place in the chaos of life and meaning in random encounters. And I wish that I could say something more meaningful for having witnessed the beautiful scenery, but there really are no words to replace the experience of having been there.

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Myanmar: Bagan – The ancient city

We took the overnight bus from Yangon to Bagan. Although technically we could have afforded plane tickets, we decided to try the local way. I’ve traveled by bus before in Thailand when I was younger, but this was a whole new ballgame. First, it was freezing cold. It seemed the driver was compensating for the hot weather and turned up the AC. Then there’s the roads. They were so bumpy we thought we were on a Mars rover.

To maintain a semblance of comfort, I found having these items helped: 1) Ear plugs (there were snorers); 2) Socks, jacket, scarf, sarong or whatever to keep warm; 3) Sleep mask because they left the lights on; 4) Water and snacks. Not all buses will give you food so don’t count on it; 5) Wet wipes. There were no bathrooms on the bus and the quality of bathrooms at the different stops was not standardized. One of the rest stops only had squat toilets with water in a bucket for washing.

When taking an overnight bus in a country where you lack the language skill, it is important to pay attention to what the driver said or ask your neighbors when in doubt. I know this should be a no-brainer. But at 11 PM, the mind does not think straight.

At the 76 km mark, the bus almost left our little group behind at a food stop because. Our fault. We didn’t know we only had 30 minutes. The driver had some attendants hunt us down while we were eating the last of our hot noodles soup. The walk of shame back to our seats was pretty embarrassing.

We arrived at Bagan just as the sun was rising. Bagan is an ancient archeological city that was the seat of the Pagan kingdom from the 9th to the 13th centuries. At its height, there were over 10k Buddhist temples, of which 3,122 remained. We spent our first day here in 4 of them: Shwesri Gon Pagoda, Htilominlo, Ananda Temple, and Shwesandaw, the Sunset Pagoda. The Shwesri Gon Pagoda from 11th century contains the bone relic of the Buddha. The Ananda Temple, another from the 11th century, has 10k Buddha images. Some depict the story of how the Buddha transformed from a prince to the enlightened one. There were more things we would have learned had we not had to siphon all of our effort toward not passing out from heat stroke. 

The temples would be best visited early in the day. The walls of the temple absorb the heat and by end of the day it felt like 120 degree with 100% humidity inside. It was not easy to stay focused on our knowledgeable guide as he lectured about the differences in Buddha images from century to century. After a while, all we wanted was just a cold drink.

A few things I did learn:

1) Never, ever go to the Shwesandaw for sunset. It was a zoo! The precarious steep steps are dangerous to navigate when congested and the clouds made it impossible to see the sunset.

2) Some tourists can be rude if stuck on the said stone steps. They seemed to bring out the worst in some people. Just move slow and hug the wall.

3) Bobby will buy anything if under enough pressure. There were hundreds of vendors hawking all kinds of tourist trinkets. Some were extremely persistent. Bobby is now a proud owner of a painting he will never hang.

4) Always order the Burmese set meal. Always. You choose the meat (I chose fish and shrimp but there were also beef and chicken), which were then cooked in spices, onions, and peppers. It also came with a soup, a vegetable side, and rice. Heaven.

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Myanmar: Yangon – Botataung temple, fisherman’s village

My second impression of Yangon was of their breakfast. I can write an ode to the chicken noodles in coconut milk soup alone. It was a sweet wake up kiss in my tummy that cured jet lag. I found a recipe online that I’m going to attempt to make one day.

We began our day innocently enough at Botataung temple, where worshippers pray wedged in various corners of the gilded temple. Thar Thar, our guide, told us they did that so they wouldn’t be in the way of foot traffic. Even during mid-morning on a weekday, the temple was full. We had to squeeze our way through the corridors next to walls of shelves filled with antique relics donated to the temples. There were old Buddha statues, rings and necklaces, pink rubies and green emeralds on a silver tea set.

According to local lore, the temple was built 2,500 years ago. Then during WWII, on November 8, 1943, the Royal Air Force (RAF) completely destroyed it. It was only rebuilt after Myanmar gained independence in 1948. In the back of the temple is a pond where hundreds of turtles reside. It is their refuge. Thar Thar bought a plate of vegetables and popcorn from a vendor and gave it to us to feed the animals. 

After, we took the ferry across the Yangon River to a fisherman’s village. Traveling by ferry is popular among the locals. We tottled slowly onto the boat through the crowd before we made our way upstairs toward the back where the welcomed breeze dried our sweat-drenched faces.  

At the fisherman’s village, we saw the daily life of Burmese families. Their days are ruled by the ebb and flow of the river. The men had just come back from a fishing excursion. The delicious scent of fish frying on charcoal stoves rose from inside their long-tail boats, reminding us that lunchtime was approaching. Thar Thar yelled out to the fishermen for a taste of the fish. But her request was either ignored or not heard. 

We rode on trishaws under the blazing southeast Asian sun through a neighborhood of corrugated-roof homes. We past expansive green rice fields where young men fought kites with each other. Happy children waved while geese and goats made way for our 4 trishaws to go through. 

Our final destination was a non-profit boarding school that educates children from ages 5-13 from all over Myanmar. But before that, we made a couple of stops at the stores and shopped for bags of rice, snacks, and supplies. They were about to run out of rice and had completely ran out of school supplies so we were happy our timing was right. It cost each of us less than we would spend on a dinner in the U.S. for what would feed them for at least a month. Mind. Blown.

The students sang 2 English songs for us and I sang one in return. I don’t think we understood each other but lots of smiling always come in handy in a place where language is a barrier. We played a couple of games which I never got a hang of. Before we said our goodbyes, Laurie practically assaulted each kid with a hug. Then we went back toward where we came.

We spent our last hour in Yangon in the humid innards of a local train. Commuters stood packed like sardines no different from those in New York City would on a subway. Except this train car was neither air-conditioned nor fast. It was on Bobby’s bucket list and we all went along. This is the cheapest way to travel for work, our guide said. As my back drip sweat in the suffocating heat, I was grateful that I don’t have an hour daily commute to work on a hot train.

We couldn’t have had this experience in Yangon without our guide, Thar Thar from LM Travel Myanmar. She wanted us to see the not-so-touristy side of this city. One day expectations from the outside will overtake it. As the world contracts, we realized that responsible tourism has never been so crucial. So many ‘3rd world countries’ have suffered at the hands of tourism. Their culture and environment pockmarked by the demands for convenience and technology from their visitors. It is our hope to leave each place we visit a little better than before, or at least not destroy it in our quest for life experiences.

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Myanmar: Shwedagon Pagoda, Yangon

Shwedagon Pagoda is a must visit in Yangon.

The ancient temple is a source of pride for the Burmese. From the first look, I knew why. At night, the Shwedagon Pagoda is a sight to behold. The 99-meter tall (325 feet) structure stood like a titan against the black backdrop. In flickering candlelight and orange incandescent, the golden pagoda, stupas, and temples gleam like the center of the sun.

The sky was sprinkling rain. We began our journey by leaving our shoes at the entrance. It is a common and expected practice when entering any temples or homes in Southeast Asia. The floors were slippery but the temple lined a path of non-skid plastic tiles for its visitors to walk on. While the hard plastic dug into my feet making it painful to walk on, it was better than falling on my face.

We navigated through the rain and worshippers who came from various corners of the world to see this famous sight. Around us are sounds of chanting, little boy monks playing, and bell tolling. The smell of incense permeated the air.

Our guide, Thar Thar, from LM Travel Myanmar told us that the Shwedagon Pagoda contains the hair relic, staff, water filter, and robe of Buddha. And according to legend, it was built over 2,500 years ago, making it the oldest in the world. Historians and archaeologists disagreed. They maintained that the pagoda was built by the Mon people between the 6th and 10th centuries AD. Regardless of its age, the Burmese consider this ancient place the most sacred pagoda in Myanmar.

The pagoda is plated with real gold and its top, the umbrella crown, is encrusted with over 2,000 rubies and 5,000 diamonds, the largest of which is 76 carats. All were donations from Buddhist believers. My friend, Laurie, asked our guide whether the temple worries someone would steal the treasure. Thar Thar replied that once the people gave the gift, they no longer think of them. It is a practice in letting go.

Buddhism teaches that human struggles stem from attachment: to things, to people, to our own ego. Sometimes the weight of it all can prevent us from moving forward. I am not a Buddhist but I do agree that the practice of letting go is a healthy exercise for the mind. While it is not easy nor pleasant to detach, learning to do so would lead to a true acceptance of the impermanence of life.

At the end of our visit, Thar Thar led us to a quiet corner of a veranda. It was a good spot to absorb the peaceful vibration in the air. This place leaves a strong impression. For generations, it serves as a witness to periods of wars and peace in one of the oldest civilization in the world. I wondered whether it would it stand for another millennium. Where would our humanity be then?

Click here on how to travel Myanmar in 7 days.  
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Myanmar: Yangon street food tour

My first impression of Yangon was that the city reminded me a bit of Thailand 30 years ago. When there were fewer skyscrapers and freeways. When old trees and dilapidated colonial buildings peppered the streets that had just begun to experience the glut of cars and before it would become world-renowned as the infamous Bangkok traffic. My two friends and I stayed in the city center near Chinatown where houses of worship for Buddhists, Hindus, Christians, and Muslims are seen from one street corner.

Like America, Myanmar was a colony of England. From 1824 to 1948 it undergone wars with the British, became known as a province of British India, and finally gained independence after WWII and Japanese rule like many Southeast Asian countries. Reminders of British imperialism are in government offices, abandoned buildings with ferns growing from the windows of what may have once been the drawing-room of a colonial officer’s family, and right-hand drive cars.

The people are friendly. Many men wear longyi, a cloth around their waist worn like a skirt. Some women wear yellow powder called Thanaka on their faces. Dressing is conservative with arms and legs often covered. Smiles are not hard to find.

We ate our way through street vendors in a market. Boiled offal. Tea leaf salad with peanuts. Durian. Deep fried Indian snacks. Coconut pancakes. The offal was not my first choice, but the many stalls filled with patrons proved the dish popular among locals. It was available in both beef and pork, so I was glad to have our guide with us to make sure I did not inadvertently eat the wrong meat.

It was sold by the stick with each being between 100-200 kyat ($0.07-0.15 U.S.) and came with a bowl of soup used to dip the meat in. The tea leaf salad or Lahpet Thoke has a flavor profile unlike anything I had ever tasted before. It was earthy, slightly bitter, with a citrus aftertaste. The crunchiness of the peanuts and fried garlic contrasted with the softness of the corn and tomatoes. The 500 kyat ($0.37 U.S.) dish was flavorful and nutritious, yet affordable.

The durian here was less crispy than the Thai variety both Laurie and I know and love. But at 2,000 kyat each ($1.46), it was the cheapest durian we ever came across. The flavor was delicious and on point. But for those who are not used to it, it may smell like stinky feet or rotten onion.

Here, the personalities of my traveling companions came to best exemplify them. Laurie did not hesitate to sit at a food stall or try chewing betel nut. Bobby, however, was constantly whispering in the background asking whether it was a good idea to be eating or drinking whatever our guide gave us. I think the combination of both caution and thirst for experience will serve our group well as we travel through this beautiful country.