When first planning this trip, we went
back and forth on the idea of visiting Myanmar, formerly known as
Burma. We read about many different impressions. On the one hand, the
long established military junta in power (seemingly replaced by a
civilian government in the tainted elections of 2010) has a long
record of corruption and human rights violations that has left its
people impoverished, repressed and isolated. For decades, the
country has been under a travel boycott (not to mention Western
sanctions), called for by an opposition party, the NLD (led by the
now symbolic figure of Aung San Suu Kyi, under house arrest for
non-consecutive 17 years) in defiance of the ongoing abuses. It lifted
the boycott only in 2010, as a way to infuse funds into the
struggling economy and thus help its people on the most basic level.
Granted, many fees still fill the pockets of the few rich and in
power, but conscientious and (we heard) independent travel can aid on
the grassroots level. Unfortunately, the sub-par infrastructure and
standards cannot fully support the influx of tourists, which means
the prices on even basic accommodation, for example, have
skyrocketed. With that said, Myanmar is still the unexplored land,
attracting only a minuscule portion of tourists that visit, say,
neighboring Thailand. In a way, this leaves the country and its
warm, open people mostly untainted by the competition and lures of
mass tourism and cut-throat development. Off the beaten path (or at
least off the backpackers' Banana Pancake trail), it's a refreshing
wonder to experience. Its reminder of the olden days is its greatest
charm.
So we heard, and finally decided to
see for ourselves. We reached Bangkok, all of our attention bent to
the task of obtaining our visas. We tried before, but lacked the
time and the air tickets to complete the process. Again, we got up
at 5 AM to reserve our spots in the queue, only to find a sign
proclaiming the day a national holiday. The embassy was closed, of
course. Super, especially since we had next-day departure tickets.
Little we could do; we gritted our teeth and bought new ones for the
day after. Hoping third time is a charm, we took our spots in the
line at 7 AM, making sure our paperwork was immaculate (so: visa app
from a shop around the corner, 2 passport photos, copy of flight
reservations, copy of passports, passports themselves, and 1,260 bhat
fee each, all needed for the express same day visas). About 3 hours
of wait got us to the counter where an expedient clerk accepted the
package. We returned at 3 PM to another line, this one hot and
sweaty, after spending the day with a fellow Burma-bound Aussie at
the MBK mall, relishing the air-con and the cheap, tasty eats. After
another hour of wait and dreams of a long, cold shower, we left
relieved, our glossy new visas and passports in hand. Fist bump.
First stop: Yangon – former and
still unofficial capital of Myanmar. Reminds me of some Polish
cities back in the 80's, but more tarnished and cluttered.
Ongoing
construction ensures most sidewalks (or broken slabs of concrete) are
uneven, wobble and have holes you can hide your whole leg in.
Unintentionally, of course. I recommend a flashlight for any night
ventures (helps in the frequent power outages, too).
Vehicles speed
by without any regard for pedestrians, so its their responsibility
not to get hit. There are no motorcycles at least, as they were
prohibited in the city after some high-ranking official got hit by
one. The most popular method of dining is on little kiddie-sized
plastic chairs, placed right on the “sidewalks”.
Man in longhyi
Everyone and
their mama is out on the streets, eating, socializing, watching
soccer games on communal TVs, bickering good-naturedly. So
interesting to sit back and watch, although our foreignness
frequently engaged people's curiosity and invited the standard
questions. Basic English was common enough.
We heard disparaging opinions on the Burmese cuisine, seemingly a mix
of Thai and Indian influences, but not as flavorful and more oily.
Funnily, to get someone's attention, you make kissy noises. It felt
a bit awkward at first, but the reaction was instantaneous. Tea-houses and cafes are rampant, but the prices are unexpectedly
high. It was also hot. So hot, in fact, that steady rivulets of
sweat left salty stains on all our clothes.
We tripped and stumbled all over the
central part of the city, admiring some outstanding colonial
architecture. Most of it is neglected, although some renovations
seem to be under way.
But the crown jewel of the city (literally!)
is the Shwedagon Paya (pagoda). Supposedly originally constructed
2,500 years ago, at the time of Buddha, it has been gilded over the
centuries with 90 tons of gold, thousands of precious stones, and a
70 karat diamond was affixed to the top of the highest spire. The
pagoda looked beautiful at sunset, but it was the night lighting that
truly showed off its grandeur. We learned that many Buddhist
believers from the country hope to visit the pagoda at least once in
their lifetime.
After a few days, the chaotic city
drove us to seek a more peaceful location. We took a surprisingly
efficient bus to Bagan for a peek at the immense ancient temples.
Practical Information, since there
are such radical fluctuations in prices:
$1 = 876 kyat (at airport, despite what
Lonely Planet says, one of the best exchange rates for now; both
currencies are accepted interchangeably, though dollars usually cover
higher expenses; all dollar bills have to be in pristine condition)
Express visa = 1,260 Thai bhat (about
$40)
taxi from airport to city center =
8,000 kyat
Ocean Pearl hotel = $30 for a clean
double room, with AC, free wifi and free breakfast
Shwedagon Paya = $5 or 5,000 kyat, taxi
to paya = 2,000 kyat
taxi to bus station = 6,000 kyat
bus to Bagan = 15,000 kyat
bottle of water = 200 to 400 kyat
Good eats on 19th St
