Reflections on Myanmar

The Caged Bird

Of all the countries in Southeast Asia, Myanmar (Burma) is probably visited the least by tourists. The country's government has a long history of oppressing the Burmese people and as such, foreign countries have enforced sanctions on Myanmar and the State Department warnings have successfully scared most people away from traveling here.

The debate as to whether foreigners should visit Myanmar continues on. Those who are against tourism will tell you that by coming to Myanmar, tourism gives a stamp of approval to the government. Inevitably, some tourism dollars are redirected for government use. The most unsavory reason not to come to Myanmar is that forced labor is often used to construct some of the country's tourism infrastructure. Those who support tourism in Myanmar will tell you that exposure to the outside world is critical to the Burmese people. It is through tourism that many Burmese are able to earn an income and it gives them continued exposure to the outside world. What's more, keeping the Burmese isolated from international witnesses to internal oppression could cement the government's ability to rule. Exposure keeps the pressure on the government in the hopes that some form of democracy will follow.

Like most travellers, we came to Myanmar to see some of the world's most remarkable examples of ancient architecture: the temples of Bagan. When we arrived in Myanmar, we realized that we were going to experience something as rewarding as any ancient archeaological site. We discovered the Burmese people. We have been greeted with a degree of warmth we haven't experienced with such sincerity since we left Indonesia. From monks to shopkeepers, we have taken every opportunity to talk with the people and give them a bird's eye view of the outside world. And as we talked, each person's face would brighten. They were inspired by our words as we were inspired by theirs, not just over possiblities for the future, but by the way people should treat one another in general. One monk said simply, "I wake up every morning and act with love and kindness to everyone. I am mindful of all that I do and I know that with love and kindness, I can reach others."

The people have participated in a democratic election several years ago and freely elected a new leader, Aung San Suu Kyi. She has been under house arrest off and on for more than 20 years to prevent her from holding office. The Burmese people have protested openly with little success (and harsh penalties) and now wait for foreign pressure to work on their government like the persistent roots of a Banyan tree.

Ironically, the gracious smiles and warm eyes of the Burmese people belie their repression. Personally ironic for us is the fact that Myanmar is our last country to visit in Asia, as we found a similarity in our experience with the people of Indonesia, the first country we visited. These two countries served as poignant bookends to our journey through Asia. Two countries, very different in religion, geography, history and politics, and yet very similar in the way the common people treat foreigners and each other. A justifiable perception remains that lesser developed countries have a lot to learn from the West. However, we wish that more people in our country would learn to act with the kindness toward strangers we witnessed in Myanmar.

Bagan: Witnessing the Extraordinary

As our prop plane landed in Bagan, the dry, dusty land made us think for a moment that we were in Africa. We began driving towards our hotel and caught our first sighting of the Bagan temples. Somewhere between two- and four-thousand temples are randomly planted throughout a stretch of 40 sq km along the Ayeyarwady River. Standing in Bagan, ruins can be seen from every direction -- huge, glorious temples soar towards the sky with fields teaming with small, graceful stupas. Thousands of temples were built between the 10th and 13th centures by the kings of the Burmese Empire. No one knows for sure what caused the demise of the Empire at the end of the 13th century, but from the 14th to the 18th centuries, Bagan was believed to be haunted by nats (guarding spirits) and bandits.

Witnessing the temples of Bagan is like stumbling onto crop circles. A stretch of land mysteriously cluttered with thousands of temples, as if aliens harvested them from around the world and dropped them here for later transport but never made it back. One finds oneself searching for words to describe the landscape, or the right image to capture, so that other people will believe the story.

At the top of one temple we met a Dutch explorer and travel writer named Frank who convinced us to hike with him across the brush for a couple kilometers. "You will probably get burrs in your sandals, but that's part of the adventure," he said. In addition to a lot of burrs, we collected white sand from dry river beds, chaff from recently reaped fields, dirt from a surprised farmer's backyard, the odd insect, and pebbles from nameless temple ruins. When we encountered large temples on the way, we removed our sandals in the custom of the Buddhists, shook them out, and tred the silent, sacred stones with our bare feet. By the time we reached our destination - a huge ziggarat-style temple reminiscent of a Mayan pyramid - the sun had started to set, and we quickly circumambulated the temple before wishing Frank well and then heading off to another site. The walk, though thorny and hot, reminded us of the importance of pilgrimage. The difficulty of a journey seems to be in direct proportion to the satisfaction one finds upon reaching one's goal.

Kyainge Tong Hill Tribes

If Myanmar is considered a remote country in Asia, the villages surrounding Kyainge Tong would be considered some of Asia's most primitive villages. We spent two days here, trekking through the surrounding mountains of Kainge Tong and realized we stepped into another world. The tribes that live in this region have inhabited the mountains for many centuries with little change to their daily lives. The Akha, Enn, Lahu, Akhu, and Palaung tribes all live in villages tucked high into the mountains with limited contact with the outside world. Families rely on agriculture for their livelihood. Every day, slight women carry heavy baskets filled with produce several miles down the hillsides to the local markets to sell. We both carried a load to see what these small women had to deal with and figured that the some of loads must weigh well over 100 lbs. The women also bear as many as 12 to 15 children in a lifetime; half of them die before they reach puberty from dysentery, malaria, and the flu. Germ theory has not made it to many of these villages; when asked why they do not boil their water, one villager reportedly told our guide, "our ancestors drank this water - if it was good enough for them, it is good enough for us." The government makes no effort to inform the public of any health matters either - we can't imagine the impact a pandemic would make on this country.

Villagers live in largely unsanitary conditions with little to no access to medical treatment. Many of them rely on the occassional tourist to bring medicine and basic supplies to the villages. On the advice of our guide, we gave out pain medicine and shampoo to the adults. "Much better than giving money," he told us. Many of the tribes live on a healthy supply of betle nut, which provides a light buzz but turns the teeth and gums red. In addition to blood red gums, one tribe's concept of beauty includes deliberately blackened teeth - people with white teeth look like dogs, we were told. The Akha have the most adorned bodies, particularly the headdress with silver coins, beads, and cowry shells. Somewhat used to seeing tourists, they welcomed photography and one tribe offered us steamed pumpkin in a show of hospitality, while warning us that if we bumped their ceremonial drum we would be fined the price of a pig ($30). We met a 102-year old women (though learned later she is not exactly sure how old she is), talked with a village shaman, visited several homes and shared many pleasantries with miraculous people from another time.

Inle Lake: Floating on Mirrors

Veiled by a pure mist, the layers of tranquil mountains stand by the shores of Inle Lake as if waiting in turn to drink from her calm waters. Inle lake's mirrored surface creates a reflection so clear and vital it is like floating on the tears of a great eye, a window to the earth's soul. As soon as the sun peaks over the mountains, lake fishermen board their longboats, twist a leg around an oar, and spend solitary days searching for fish with cone-shaped nets and long spears.

Inle Lake can be found in the Shan State of Myanmar, tucked inside a vast range of mountains. We arrived at our hotel after an hour's journey on the lake. There in the middle of the lake was our hotel, raised above water by a sturdy set of stilts. We were ushered to our floating cottage so neatly positioned for a perfect view of the sunset from its private veranda. When the Burmese talk about their version of God's country, Inle Lake is probably what they imagine.

In the morning, we were wakened by the fishermen and the putting of the longboat motors. We jumped in our boat and spent the day in Inle Lake's floating markets, floating gardens, and floating villages. This is one part of the world to which we must return.