Burma, in 1988 renamed Myanmar, has a long history of military power. The government is an alleged abuser of human rights. The opposition party, the National League for Democracy won the official elections in 1990, but never came to power: its key members have been imprisoned, exiled or even killed. Aung San Suu Kyi, the detained opposition leader and Nobel Laureate calls for boycott of the country, and this includes tourism. This, to prevent the government obtaining hard currency. So, why did we go to Myanmar, against her plea?

Initially, we didn't know so much about it and we decided to go because we heard about the beauty of the country and how fantastic it was to go there. When we learned more about the political situation, we also discovered that there is no obligation anymore to buy two-hundred USD worth of Foreigner Exchange Certificates (FEC's, or "fakes": very expensive monopoly money) from the government. Besides, independent travel is possible, so one is not bound to excursions organised by the government, making it possible to sponsor local people a little bit. Finally, we believe that supporting the people of Myanmar is as important as not sponsoring the government.

Afterwards we still think we have made a good decision because, when asked, people would say : "Yes, come and see. And tell the world about it. "

23-25 April '04

Both unity and diversity marked Yangon for us when we arrived. Diversity because of the different faces in the town: the Burmese population consists of local ethnic groups (Shan, Bamar, Mon and others), but also of Indians, Chinese and Muslims. In the town, Synagogue neighbours Mosque, Hindu temple and Church stand next to each other whereas Buddhist Payas and Zedis are everywhere.

There also is unity because all men wear skirts ("Longyi":) and all women wear "Thanakha":, a yellow make-up, skin conditioner and sun block (three in one!) made from Sandalwood. Such traditions mark the lack of contact Myanmar has with the rest of the world. The boycott does its work: no McDonaldisation here, but a lot of poverty indeed. Draw your own conclusions.

We have explored a bit of the four million (!) inhabitant-city, from our base-camp near the gilded Sule Paya in the centre of the old town. It is not the only gilded paya; actually, the whole country is loaded with payas glittering in gold because these contain very sacred relics such as hair or teeth of the Buddha. He must have been a bold and toothless man at the end of his life!

Yangon's Shwedagon Paya is one of those pagoda's and contains no less than seven of his hairs! It is the most sacred paya of the "Golden Country". It is a huge complex with buildings around the gold and gems decorated dome, displaying Buddha's in all sorts and sizes with and without neon lights.

For your prayers one has to know the weekday of his birth, which is related to directions of the compass, planets and animals. Fab is a South-Eastern Martian lion, Cornelia a tusk-less elephant from North-West Jupiter.

When we visited the Paya in the morning, taking of the shoes was not a problem (no shoes on sacred ground), but by the time we left we had learned a very important lesson about Paya visits: after eleven o'clock you'll burn your feet!

26-27 April '04

Located between Yangon and the Inle Lake, Taungoo is a small provincial town that tourists almost always skip, probably because it is barely mentioned in the guidebooks. That was an excellent reason for us to go there! And what a good idea that was! No tourists indeed, and amazingly friendly and welcoming people. After a huge breakfast (the lady of the guesthouse had made only for us a huge table full of good local specialties: fruit, dumplings, etc.), we hired a bicycle for the day and went riding through the small town.

After the small Myasygon pagoda and the local mosque (abandoned), we headed for Taungoo's big pilgrimage pagoda, the Schesandaw Paya. Without any map, we finally found the place but went in through the wrong entrance: we entered the monastery and monks looked at us with eyes wide open! After a short visit of the pagoda (it was just another pagoda where we burned our feet on the red-hot pavement), the monks very timidly invited us for lunch, what we accepted immediately, and what an experience that was! We had a very long conversation with a very old monk who could still remember his years with the British. He was really delighted foreigners were here and happy to practice his English, which he had not spoken for fourty years... He was very emotional and it was quite touching! After lunch, we had lots of fun with the monks (of all ages) making a group photo.

In the afternoon we had a break next to the lake on which once stood a palace, and were invited for a chat by a group of youngsters who offered us fruit and cheroots (cigars). Yes, like the Cubans, the Burmese produce and smoke lots of cigars! The palace grounds were not so interesting (nothing was left), but we had a long and interesting conversation with the guardian of the place who also offered us fruit, and even gave his hat to Fab as a present.

In the late afternoon, we jumped in a night bus towards Inle Lake. We did not sleep, mainly because holding on to your chair was more important than the night's rest. During some six hours we rode over some mountain-ledge which was enthusiastically called road...

28-30 April '04

A party in Nyaung Shwe

Nyaung Shwe, a village North of the Inle lake, has not so much to offer. But, in the afternoon of our arrival we ran into a traditional procession. At first we thought it was a wedding but there were two grooms to the bride and they were all under age! It turned out to be a celebration comparable to our first communion: the boys were brought to the monastery to stay there for a week to learn the ways of the monks. The girl had her ears pierced, the so-called ear boring.

It was a glamorous parade with maidens carrying flowers, trishaws loaded with presents for the monastery and beautiful dresses. Notwithstanding the tradition of such party, we had the impression that some people in the village thought it a pompous way of showing off wealth more than anything else. It was clear that not many people in the village would ever be able to afford even the shadow of something alike.

The Inle lake

A boat-trip to the Inle lake proved its fame: lying between the mountains, the views from the lake are very idyllic. Fishery, the main occupation of the people here, is still performed traditionally, with cone shaped bamboo fishing "nets", and the men row the boats with their legs to relieve their arms! Wooden villages and monasteries on stilts crowd the marshlands at the Southern part of the lake. Here crops are grown on floating islands consisting of soil and water hyacinths, anchored down with bamboo poles. People "work the land" from little boats in between the parcels.

Some constructions are based on solid ground: mainly pagoda's (always made of stone) but also the blacksmith's workshop. It was marvellous to see the red iron rhythmically being beaten flat by five men standing around it in a circle. A lovely sunset accompanied us home.

A final bicycle trip along the lake showed us the views from the other side and the serene landscape on land. The 22-kilometre trip was quite an effort. The road was not very good and a little shower turned half of the track into a collection of slippery mud pools. Moreover, we could not find a place to eat; it simply did not exist. We dared not accept the kind invitations of people to eat at their homes, out of fear of getting them into trouble with the secret police once we were gone. The risks for them are much larger than for us: at worst, we get kicked out of the county but they may face jail if the authorities are displeased.

01 May '04

The trip from the Inle Lake to Kalaw was a good but also very shocking experience. We took a fully packed pick-up like always in Myanmar. If no space is left inside, the men have to climb on the roof of the car and sit between the luggage and grab anything they can to secure themselves. Fab was one of the lucky ones to go on the roof, and it was big fun on there with the other guys during the 4-hour trip.

What was less fun, even extremely shocking, was what we saw along the roads. We had heard and read about it, but now could really see it with our own eyes. Young men, women and even children were working barefoot and without any protection: crushing stones, cutting through the rocks with only a hammer and spikes, carrying huge boulders on their back, this under a burning hot sun! Yes, it works as follows in Myanmar: if something has to be repaired or some work has to be done here or there, the military choose the nearest village, pick a group of people and just force them to do the work: they have no choice, receive barely any equipment, and just have to do the work and shut up. We will never forget the despair in the eyes of a completely exhausted woman working in her ordinary clothes carrying a basket full of stones! Really shocking. Something has to be done here.

Kalaw is a pleasant hill town, located twelve-hundred meters high, with cool temperatures. We walked all afternoon in the streets of the town, ran into an interesting printing shop with a perfectly operational 50-year-old machine, printing the local newspaper and books. We visited a church created seventy years ago by an Italian priest. Once in the church, it gave a bit a feeling of home: the interior was exactly the same as any church back home, with the same wooden benches, same architecture, same organ, etc. For a moment, we completely forgot that we were in Asia.

We only stayed one day and one night here, avoiding on purpose the many hikes proposed through the disturbingly poor villages: mainly group tours come here and find it interesting and "exotic" to walk through these villages, like if they were visiting a zoo.

We left Kalaw the next day to go to Mandalay via Meiktila. On the first part of the trip, people were crushing stones again.

02-04 May '04

The only place in Myanmar deserving to be called "City" is Mandalay. The second-largest town has less than one-million inhabitants but seems much more thriving and modern than Yangon. However, at the end of the dry season the heat was intolerable; we measured 47°! The air co was not so much use because of the long lasting interruptions of electrical power, a common thing in Myanmar (that is, if there is electricity at all).

Mandalay is the home of the Moustache Brothers, trio that performs "Pwe", the elaborate traditional Burmese Cabaret. The group has become internationally known because Par Par Lay, the leader of the group, spent seven years in jail and labour camps because he joked of the generals in the government. Now, they only give home-shows for foreigners, which of course, we had to see.

The show was not extraordinary, but what can you expect? They are deprived of Burmese audience that has the background to understand the satire referring to everyday things and deprived of their own language. Only one of the three speaks English, thus silencing the other two. But it was well worth the visit. Besides the presence of foreigners protects them from further abuse of their rights and also feeds them: they are no longer allowed to give "normal" public performances.

In Mandalay someone explained us how the educational system, officially free for all, is an institution where underpaid teachers extort money from parents by terrorising their children. Talking to this person was in itself a very strange experience as well: constantly on the guard for informants, it gave a very creepy feeling.

Around Mandalay archaeological sites are abundant. We chose to visit only three highlights: Inwa, U'Bein's bridge and Mingun.

Inwa (Ava)

Inwa (Ava) was the capital of Northern Myanmar during some four centuries until the 1838 earthquake destroyed the city. Not very much of it remains, but the tranquillity was welcome after Mandela's hectic streets. A horse cart took us through the fields over the old roads sided by blossoming trees to some of the places of interest. One of those was the Bagaya Kyaung, a 170-year-old teak stilted monastery where the only evidence of time is the weathering of the beautiful carvings in the wood.

During lunch, two young ladies hunting for "pleasants" (presents), applied "Thanakha" makeup to Cornelia. For the rest of the day the people were delighted to see her so beautiful with little fish on her cheeks and a sun on her forehead!

U'Bein's Teak Bridge

Amarapura was the successor Capital of Inwa. Here, a bridge across the lake was built by Mr. U'Bein, using the teak wood from the Palace of Inwa that had been deserted. Now, the over 150-year-old bridge still largely consists of the original wood but the 1.2-kilometre construction has become quite wobbly in some parts. Nonetheless it is a very popular place and each day hundreds of people enjoy an excellent evening stroll accompanied by a red setting sun.

Mingun

In Mingun, in 1790, one of those flabbergasting Burmese religious projects was started: the building of the largest paya in the world, that is, had it been finished. The initiator died when only the 50-meter high brick base was completed and the project was abandoned. The 1838 earthquake redesigned the structure. The effort of climbing the "paya" is rewarded with a "landscape" one only sees in movies: a plateau split up by large cracks, the different parts heaved up or sunken down. On top of it there is the view of the Ayeryawady river and the paya-dotted hills surrounding the site.

05-08 May '04

From Mandalay, we took an interesting bus to Hsipaw. Transport in Burma is a disaster: very old buses or pickups where the steel floors or benches are often replaced by wood. What they have done with some buses is rather ingenious: to transport more cargo, they noticed that lots of space was lost between the passengers' heads and the roof of the vehicle. So what they do is simply heighten the seats by putting them on higher feet. Like this lots can be put under there, which has of course two consequences for the passengers: first they are squeezed against the ceiling of the bus, and second, if there is nothing under the seats, their feet do not touch the ground! On our way to Hsipaw, our feet were resting on boxes full of bottles of rum, and on our way back, we had huge bags of garlic under us (the smell!).

Halfway between Mandalay and Hsipaw, the bus was thoroughly inspected by the military to check if no "rebels" or illegal items were on board. Among the Shan people are groups resisting against the government in this region.

In Hsipaw we spent three days relaxing, away from the heat of Mandalay. It was much cooler and even rained every day. We made a pleasant excursion to a nearby waterfall through rice paddies and met a very friendly family while resting under their stilt house during a rain shower.

We spent a relaxing afternoon along the river writing for the website, and Fab even dared to swim in the river with the locals, cautiously avoiding the poisonous water snakes.

A visit to the Shan Palace was quite interesting. It is in fact just a big colonial house, but was the former residence of the local prince who has disappeared (presumably killed by the military) in the 60's. His wife and children have fled to the US and their cousins (other princes of the region) were living there and giving explanations of the brilliant but tumultuous life of the local princes and princesses. The government has forbidden them to maintain contact with the members of the family abroad. To survive, they transformed the gardens of the palace into cultivation fields.

08 May '04

On our way back to Mandalay, we stopped a couple of hours in Pyin U Lwin, with interesting "English style" houses, and a "wild west" street with horse cart taxis. We planned to have our "Colonial Beer" in a beautifull colonial residence that has become a hotel, but when we found out it was government-owned we cancelled it. We had tea in a "normal" place instead.

09-11 May '04

We took a direct bus from Mandalay to arrive early in Nyaung U, Bagan's base-village. This way, we still could catch a glimpse of the world's largest and most densely paya-crowded plain, at sunset. However, the bus driver never figured out how to change to the third gear and up, so we only arrived in the dark punished with a sore sitter from the 9-hour ride.

The next day we hired a "taxi" (horse cart), for an introduction of the marvels of Bagan. We were lead around the plain with its four-thousand (!) payas, zedis and ruins. In 1975, an earthquake did lots of damage and structures collapsed or lost their plaster on which paintings and carvings are made. The site is so extensive that UNESCO cannot keep up with restorations.

Soon enough we figured out that visiting the individual payas is not the most interesting thing to do. The most famous and biggest payas are crowded with vendors. Besides, for protection of the monuments, it is often prohibited to climb the large payas. And that is what it is about here: a view form above.

The less popular pagodas can be climbed, revealing intriguing views of the wondrous plain. No matter where you look, there are towers everywhere: clustered or solitary, large or small, brick, white washed or gilded, as far as the eye can see. In the afternoon we spent hours on top of one of the monuments, sitting the shade of its dome, watching the sights and wondering: "What has moved people to build this?".

The next morning, a bike-trip proved the best way to move through Bagan. We focussed on clusters of small monuments, actually much more charming than the colossuses.

09-11 May '04

Lack of time forced us to do the trip to Yangon in one go, by bus. Not very appealing, but taking the train not an option for us: the tracks are laid with forced labour and the (expensive) ticket-money goes directly into the dirty wallet of the government.

In the evenings, clouds blocked the sunset, but no rain fell in the driest part of Myanmar. For more than a week now, the monks were singing non-stop, tewnty-four hours a day, their prayers for the rain to come. Big megaphones in the cities emitted this "rain-song" and while leaving Bagan we heard it in the bus on the radio. In Hsipaw and Mandalay the rains had arrived, but not yet in Bagan. And it was badly needed in this poor and underdevelopment area.

No running water forces people to fetch water at the nearest well. Now, at the end of the dry season, we saw from the bus several wells that were dry. People crowded around those still functioning with traffic jams of ox-carts waiting to fill their water barrels. The more unfortunate have to go by foot, carrying their two jerricans with a stick on their shoulder.

The bus driver was in a hurry so we arrived three hours early in Yangon, at three o'clock in the morning. After a rainy day in the capital (the singing works!), the plane was not in a hurry and arrived five hours late to bring us back to Bangkok, once again.