Tuesday, June 16, 2009
5:39 PM

Livin' like a Queen

Thailand.
11 to 15 Jun.

Forty-five. Forty-six. Pattaya. It was back in modern civilisation doing manicure, shopping and watching movies!

There's nothing much in Pattaya besides the beach...

and the sex scene...

Forty-seven. Bangkok.

Kam brought us to Bangkok's most famous seafood at Somboon for awesome curry crab, rock lobster and the best tom yum I ever had in my life.

Showmanship while scooping ingredients.

Real Thai dessert by the streets is great! Features red rubies!

Forty-eight. Bangkok. It was so great to hang out with Kam in Bangkok since she could help us bargain for good prices, we had free transport, she knew all the best food in town, we got to try REAL Thai food and because Kam is such a great person!

Lap at Jatujak market.

Tom saep.

Bamboo shoots.

Som tum.

This celebrity is Kam's cousin!

With Kam's cute cousins!

Thai-style hotpot.

Friday, June 12, 2009
3:15 PM

Solo in Myanmar

Myanmar.
31 May to 10 Jun.

Thirty-five. Yangon. The moment I stepped out of the customs, I was puzzled by why the women's faces were unanimously covered in yellow powder, why everyone was in sarong, and wondering how old the cars were. The yellow powder, I found out, was thanaka, a local makeup made from sandalwood, supposed to act like skincare and sunblock. They rub the sandalwood on water, and this forms a thick cream which could be applied on the face.

This is also the only country I've been to, where the roads are left-hand drive (like the US), but the vehicles are all right-hand drives as they are cars from during the colonial times. I've never been to a country that looked like they were stuck in the 1950s. Everyone looked like they are living in a countryside, carrying baskets of vegetables on their heads, walking around in slippers or bare feet, though Yangon is such a city-looking place! The roads are straight and wide, with huge trees providing shade along the streets, just like in Singapore, probably with good foundation from the colonial times. However, time seemed to have stopped at that time, as hardly any developments to the roads, or even the cars were made.

Typically long and straight roads in Yangon.

Typically old cars from the colonial times.

The feeling was also queer. Burmese have rather dark skins, like the pure Thais or Khmers, with some having fairer skins, and looking rather like Chinese. Yet, the dress sense and smell resemble very much like Little India, which I soon realised came from the betel nuts they were chewing. You could see it on their bloody teeth whenever they talked, red stains on the floor and spitting behaviours openly displayed everywhere. Of course there was also a huge Indian population in Myanmar - partly due to its geographical distance, and some descendants of workers imported from the British India.

This was the capital, but hardly most people you see on the streets can't speak English. Your best bets have to be shops and restaurants recommended by Lonely Planet, taxi drivers or money changers, whom most of the time are scammers. The chances of older people speaking English is higher than that of younger people, as the former learnt it during the colonial times, while the present education is very poor, as my taxi driver would say.

I was not intending to stay the night at Yangon as I would have plenty of time to tour it before my flight out, so I booked a ticket to Mandalay set to leave that evening. This turned out a good choice, as I managed to complete the walking tour recommended in the Lonely Planet guide book before noon despite the missing road signs.

It was a Sunday, so the Bogyoke Aung San market and the Indian quarters were so full of life. I merely kept quiet, observed and made myself blend in as I attempted to mentally adjust myself in this alien place. I finally found my way to the peaceful Sule Paya, where I rested in the peace for a while, for heading to other landmarks.

The Sule Paya in the middle of the town.

City Hall

Immigration Office, now a tattered shopping mall

Myanmar Port Authority

Strand Hotel

Post Office

Law Court building is totally out of bounds, so I had to cross to other side of the road. The guard even forbade me to take pictures of the building but I managed to snap a few without getting shot at.

Lunch was Shan noodles, called hkauq sweh, which is essentially kway teow in spicy chicken broth. In fact, Myanmar is a rather multi-ethnic and multi-religion country, though most people are of Bamar descent and Buddhists. The Shan people originate from Thailand, thus appear fairer and more Chinese-looking. Some locals have actually mistaken me for a Shan person, so as long as I avoid speaking, I can pass off as a local!

Shan noodles.

This guy drove me to the faraway bus station.

Only foreigner on the bus!

Thirty-six. Mandalay. The sky was threatening to rain, and it did, as I cycled to Mahamuni Paya. It was pretty refreshing to cycle in the rain, as I also discovered a different beauty to the place. The only irritating thing is that I wet all my notes and the Lonely Planet book.

Devotees at Mahamuni Paya.

Only men were allowed on the main altar to paste the gold leaf on the statue.

To me, Shwe In Bin Kyaung in the Monks' District, made of teak and featured intricate carvings on the roofs and doors, was a magical place. I was all alone in the monastery, listening to the pattering of the rain outside. But it was also rather dark and empty, that I could hear the squeaking of rats which immediately made me shudder and want to leave the place.

Simple yet beautiful wooden houses.

The cold rain brought out a different beauty of Shwe In Bin Kyang.

Beautiful carvings.

To enter Mandalay Palace, I had to buy a $10 ticket, which of course would go to the government. As much as I was reluctant to pay, there were very strict checks, and I'd need the ticket to enter the ancient cities the following day as well. The palace grounds were huge, but most areas were dedicated to the army barracks, and a small area to the palace buildings. These buildings were in fact newly constructed as the original one was burnt to the ground during WW2. But never did I expect the buildings to be so empty after paying $10.

Propaganda for show to tourists.

The palace moat.

Shwenandaw Kyaung was yet another teak monastery, but this was the only surviving part of the original Mandalay Palace.

Sandamani Paya

Kuthodaw Paya, the world's biggest book, contains 729 slabs that retell the Tripitaka canon.

After a 40min barefooted climb up Mandalay Hill, I finally reached the top and was rewarded with a breathtaking 360deg view of Mandalay. It's the most beautiful city view in the whole SEA I've seen, as most of other cities in SEA are dusty and barren, unlike Mandalay which has long straight roads flanked by Flame of the Forest and other plants. Atop the hill, I met an Englishman, Alex, whom I later watched the Moustache Brothers with, along with 3 French, 1 Irish and 1 Italian.

It was a never-ending road up.

Inscriptions of donors' names.

Myanmar beer was pretty good.

The Moustache Brothers' performance was a weird combination of comedy and Burmese dance. Despite Lonely Planet's recommendation, I felt that $8 was too expensive for what we got. Though Par Par Lay had been jailed 3 times for making jokes about the government, the brothers are really just comedians, and are hardly any threat to the government. What they are doing is merely limited to raising the awareness among tourists to seek help from the ASEAN and the UN to help free Myanmar.

Par Par Lay was jailed 3 times.

The Burmese dance, in gawdy traditional costumes, was incredibly difficult to master.

Thirty-seven. Sagaing, Inwa & Amarapura. I've witnessed thousands of monks begging for alms early in the morning in Luang Prabang, and now I'm in a monastery where a few families came together to donate alms to the thousands of monks in Ganayon Kyaung.

Procession to transport the chedi from the mother's town to the son's to be built.

Sagaing Hill's view was pretty awesome too, but what made it better was that I met a local who helped to explain the inscriptions and paintings on the ceilings. In fact, he is a Muslim, but always came to visit these buildings to understand architecture better as an architecture student.

Toe Win, a total stranger, guided me around Sagaing Hill.

Bagaya Kyaung

My guide.

Typical ruins at Inwa.

The leaning tower of Inwa - Nanmyin.

Star Cola was as good as Coca Cola!

Amarapura's 200-year old U Bein Bridge was the last stop so I may enjoy the sunset. This is the world's longest teak bridge at 1.2km, which not only made it on the covers of Lonely Planet's SEA guidebooks, but also on my most favourite attraction in Myanmar. It was partly because I was blessed with a most beautiful sunset and a wonderful boatman that evening...

My friendly boatman.

Met Jiyoung at Amarapura and later at Inle Lake.

Thirty-eight. Bagan. "Junta" means military regime, and at least this one can hardly be called a government, because isn't it the government's job to improve the lives of the people? The Mandalay-Bagan route is a frequently travelled one, which a few buses everyday, yet the roads are still dirt roads after so many decades. What happens when there's a river and no bridge for buses to cross? The bus simply crosses the river like that!

The longest you take to build a road is probably 3 years, 5 years if there's a lack of funding or inefficient briberies here and there, but absolutely nothing is done on this road. You may say most SEA countries are like that; they don't have money! Of course I understand that, but not when this country is full of resources - gold, silver, jade, teak and rubies - and all owned by the junta. I don't feel angry for myself, but for the locals whose lives are damned never to improve.

Thirty-nine. Bagan. Bagan is a desert-ish place, which means 35deg centigrade indoors, and this is not even the hot season! Another interesting fact is that the electricity in the country, provided by the junta, is so unreliable there's power outage a few times a day without fail, even in Yangon. The handtorch from Jatujak market came into good use when I needed some light in the toilet during an outage. So when I thought weekly outage in Medan was bad, I had to sleep 6h without the fan in 35deg centigrade without natural wind. I had never sweated so much in my life from sleeping, and felt kind of feverish when I woke up (though I hardly slept).

So it was a good choice to take the horsecart so I don't have to exert myself, and still explore land of the stupas. Because Bagan is crazy-hot land with thousands of temples to choose from, we had to be selective about the stupas we were to visit.

My favourite had to be Ananda where we met a local lady, Moemoe, who later invited us to her place for dinner. She explained to us that out of the 4 Buddhas, each facing the NSEW, only the S & W ones are original. You can tell the difference from the visible knee caps, shorter earlobes and less shiny faces. An even more amazing discovery was that the Buddha appears stern when you stand close to it, but smiling widely when you stand far away. It turned out that only the King and Queen were allowed to be in the first section, the monks in the second, and the commoners in the furthest. The sculptor wanted to depict that the Buddhas are angry with the King for such discrimination, and that they love everyone.

Dhammayangyi was a colossus temple.

Buphaya by Ayeyawaddy river.

Met Kawtar in Mandalay and travelled Bagan with her.

When you approach the Buddha at Ananda, it looks stern.

The original Buddha smiling at the commoners.

Murals on the wall still visible after centuries.

Sunset at Bagan.

Forty. Bagan. The first stop on my cycling tour with Kawtar was Shwezigon Paya which was very golden and very huge, like Shwedagon in Yangon. But what will make this an unforgettable place is the touters who were grabbing my arms just to get me to give them lucky money at their shops. What Burmese believe in is that tapping the first client's money on all your goods will give you a lucky day. So far, most people in Myanmar have been very friendly and unaggressive in their touting, so this was a shock to me. As much as I was very unhappy with their aggression, I couldn't bring myself to be stern with them, thus ended up buying useless souvenirs from 2 of them.

Beautiful Shwezigon Paya.

Gawdawpalin.

Shwesandaw.

See the silhoutte of the temples in the setting sun.

Thousands of temples in Bagan.

Dinner at Moemoe's place was such a spread and delicious, though mostly vegetables. We got to meet her best friend, and family of 8, including her 6 siblings and mother. All of them have to squeeze in a house, and as if that wasn't bad enough, the landlord is going to evict them out of the house so he can sell the house. In the past, they could stay in the monastery if they're homeless, but the junta passed a new law saying homeless people are not allowed to stay in the monastery. Now their options are to stay with another family or to build a bamboo house, but the former is impossible looking at their family size, while the latter is too expensive for them. When we asked the price, we were shocked to hear that it merely costs $25 to build a bamboo house. What costs so little to us can be such difficulty for them, considering they have to support the siblings' education. Moemoe eventually accepted some money from us, which we hope will help them tide through this difficulty. Besides, she very well deserved the money for guiding us around Ananda and cooking such a spread for us!

Forty-one. Inle Lake. This was to be the most unbearable bus ride ever. When we heard it was a local bus, I already expected it to be non-AC, smelly, squeezy and very bumpy. But never did I expect the seats to be so uncomfortable, so unfit for humans. The seats are so small you can't even fit 2 white females comfortably. We had to sit straight and rest our legs on luggages on the floor, for 12 hours! I can't believe I actually survived the ride!

Together with Katarzyna, a Polish; Eri, a Japanese; and Adrian, a Swiss, we checked into Gypsy Guesthouse, to be so lavishly welcomed and invited to the boss' daughter's wedding the following day!

Forty-two. Inle Lake. The wedding was not quite the kind Adrian and Katarzyna imagined, with lots of dancing and drinking. I guess in the Asian culture, dancing was never a part of it, while drinking is really a very male thing. The bride was only 18, while the groom does not look very much older either. The groom was dressed in a military uniform, but I'm not sure if that's the usual style or is he really from the junta.

With Katarzyna.

We left the wedding earlier to get to the hot springs via a motorbike, with 2 pillions per bike! Eri was so not used to having to wear a longyi in a hot springs!

3 persons squashed on a bike!

Us too!

Forty-three. Inle Lake. We finally got to see the Inle Lake as we took the motorboat tour. At our first stop, we got to see the Padaung women in their 8kg metal coils round the neck and calves. These are essentially seen as beauty, but also used to protect these women's necks from the tigers.

Use your leg to row!

Padaung women with their long necks.

At the cloth-weaving factory, it was also my first time seeing lotus fibre! I've seen it on the lotus roots before, but never knew it could be weaved into a cloth! Then we visited the market and many more workshops - silversmith, blacksmith, cigar and the paper umbrella, which made the whole trip somewhat boring and commercialised. I was hoping to see something more cultural, like the Shan museum, which was closed down by the junta, or just watch fishermen working on the lake. At least the jumping cats at the Nga Phe Kyaung were entertaining.

Touting.

Pa-O lady selling dried groceries.

Friendly toddler.

The lady was rolling the dough to make fried leek dumplings which tasted awesome!

Friendly auntie showing us the lotus fibres.

Can you believe lotus fibres can be made into cloth?!

At the blacksmith's.

Hand-making cigars.

Something amazing happened. The day before, I met Jiyoung, whom I knew from Amarapura, and she told me she's staying with 2 other Singaporeans. My immediate response was, "Wow, I'm not the only Singaporean here?" It turned out, as my boat was approaching the lunchpoint, I saw Jiyoung and another familiar face. It was Kelly! Never did I expect myself to meet fellow SMU students in, of all places, Myanmar!

Fishermen in the water.

Adrian acting oriental.

Adrian and Eri are exchange students in Singapore I met in Myanmar.

Forty-four. Yangon. After a dreary 16h bus ride sitting beside an old man who does not understand personal space, and 2 road blocks along the way, I finally returned to Yangon. There's this awful feeling when I reached the place. The people are nice, but it's just a weird place. A city that looks like a city, but really isn't and doesn't feel like one. I find it hard to comprehend.

The plan for the day was merely to send my postcards, have Shan noodles with Kelly and to visit the Shwedagon during sunset, before saying my final goodbyes to this beautiful country. I would be happy with an additional week to do trekking in Myanmar and visit the minority villages, but I guess 2 weeks of solo travelling in a hardly liveable place was just right for me, as I would need my dose of modern civilsation soon anyway.

The Shwedagon was really as grand as they make it sound.