The Chin State

After taking a bus from Bagan to Mandalay and with a week and a half left until I was to fly back to Bangkok, I wavered about what to do with my last 10 days. Even after leaving Yangon and the wonderful and welcoming family that so gracious hosted me, I still benefited from their generosity. The oldest sister, Lian, kindly asked her uncle in the northern Chin state to show me around this more remote part of Myanmar. Giving me his number, I called him from Mandalay and he told me to call him upon arriving in the town of Tedim, located in the heart of the northern Chin state.

The Chin state is a rather unique part of Myanmar. Located on the very western edge of the country, it is largely bordered by India and with Bangladesh on the very south of the state. The state itself is almost entirely mountainous, with the tallest peak being Mt. Victoria at just over 10,000 ft. Because of the seclusion of the mountainous landscape, there are many different groups of people speaking dozens of different languages. In Tedim and the area of the north, Tedim is spoken. In the town of Falam, falam is spoken. In Hakha, the language of hakha. What also makes the Chin state unique is that the dominant religion is not Buddhist like almost everywhere else in the country and the region, but Christian. With Christian missionaries, largely American, coming to the region in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the people were converted to denominations such as Baptist, Catholic, and Anglican. The people remain very religious until today, with churches scattered throughout the towns.

Only staying in Mandalay one night, I booked a minivan to the city of Kalaymyo, which acts as the one of the only entrances to the Chin state. Leaving Mandalay at 2:00 pm, I unfortunately claimed a seat crammed in the very back corner of the van, surrounded by 11 Myanmar people, all of whom spoke no English (From what I experienced, the people here do not use the term “Burmese”. They call their food “Myanmar food” and the language “Myanmar language”. But I digress) Though cramped, the first few hours were manageable as the roads were paved and let’s say, moderately bumpy. As night fell, the pavement ended, and the moderate bumps turned into extreme cavernous pot holes. Rather than calling it a road, it more resembled a wide ATV track that even a dirt bike would struggle to navigate. The bumping of the van, especially in the back was insane. Sleep not even a possibility, I stared quite miserably out of the window for the 18 hour ride until I finally was able to break free in Kalaymyo.

Arriving in Kalaymyo haggard and near delirium, I quickly found out that no buses ran to Tedim as it was a Sunday. Accepting my fate passively, I checked into a hotel and quickly fell asleep until the afternoon.

The next morning, a van drove me and a group of locals the 2+ hour trip into the beautiful mountains to Tedim. Upon arriving at my small inn, I called the Uncle and minutes later he and his nephew came to greet me. The uncle, speaking minimal English, obviously had recruited his nephew, 26 year old Chinbee, as he spoke decent English and would be a better guide for showing me around the area.

For the next three days, Chinbee and I would visit the different sites around the area; he driving the motorbike and me holding tightly on the back. The first day we visited a religious sect village near Tedim. The religion began in the 1930’s like almost any other, with the founders hearing the call of God in a dream.

The second day Chinbee and I took off early from Tedim to drive the three hour stretch to Rih Lake, located on the Indian border. The road to the lake, like all of the roads in the Chin state are solely dirt roads, built by the British during WWII. Extremely dusty in the dry season and horribly muddy and almost impassible during the wet season, the roads are very bumpy and traverse steep inclines and declines. Luckily it being the dry season, the roads were firm and quite drivable, with only problem being lots of dust in the air. During the trip we past many small villages, which resemble wild west boom towns of the 19th century. Largely farming communities, some villages consisted of just three or four wooden plank homes lining the road, while some others were larger with maybe sixty homes. Also during the trip, many trucks carrying both cargo and people went to and from the Indian border, stirring up dust in their wake.

Finally arriving at the heart shaped Rih Lake, a group of local Chins coming from India grew quite curious of me and included me for pictures and into their local song and dances. After relaxing at the lake for quite some time, Chinbee and I crossed the bridge into India for a short trip. The border is open for locals as many Chin people live just across the river. I assume it was probably not open for me, but nonetheless, we zipped past the immigration hut with no questions asked.

On my last day with Chinbee, we climbed the nearest highest mountain, Mt. Kennedy, standing at 8871 ft. At the top stood both a pagoda, for Buddhism, and a cross, for the many Christians in the area. The views of the surrounding area were spectacular, with hundreds of peaks weaving themselves throughout the landscape.

Other than the few sights around the area, there was not a lot of things to do around Tedim. The Chin state was closed to tourists until only a year or two ago, so it is still largely unvisited by outsiders. When walking down the street, it felt like everything everyone was doing stopped and all eyes turned to stare at the white person. It was quite intimidating just walking to get something to eat. Luckily I met the owner of a local place to eat who spoke English very well. During my entire four day stint in Tedim, I ate there as I was at ease conversing in English, rather than trying to mime out what I wanted at another place, while dozens of locals stare and laugh at me.

Eating at John the Baptist’s (what he referred himself to) restaurant, his three year old daughter quickly became comfortable with me and would play with me for the couple of hours each day I was there. I also met the two only other westerners of my entire week in the Chin state at the restaurant. One, an American teaching in Falam, south of Tedim and the other an Austrian, motorbiking through the Chin state to investigate for a future tourism company. Being that I barely spoke much during my time there, I was ecstatic to talk in English over a bottle or two of delicious Chin wine.

After four days I made my way back to Kalaymyo and having to stay another night there, finally made the dreaded journey (though not as bad as the way there) back to Mandalay. Though being a pain in the ass to get to the Chin state, it was an amazing and authentic experience. If it weren’t for Lian setting my contact up in Tedim, Chinbee, John the Baptist, and the two other westerners, I would not have had a great experience at all. But luckily they were there to help me have an awesome time in a truly beautiful and unvisited place.

Bagan

Arriving in Bagan somewhat haggard after the 19 hour off road like train journey, I grew excited to see one of the most famous travel destinations in the world. Bagan is a large area consisting of over 3000 temples, pagodas, payas, and stupas all built from the 12th-15th centuries. It is believed that at one time 10,000 temples existed, but over time with war and earthquakes, the number has decreased. The area is very dry and flat bordered by two mountain ranges to the east and west. Bagan is one of the key travel destinations in Myanmar and rightfully so, as the thousands of temples are each an impressive work of architecture.

Almost every hotel and many other businesses offer bicycle rentals or electric bikes for tourists to cruise around the vast area to explore the many temples. Being that the area was so expansive, I opted for the electric bike everyday. My days were spent riding around to whatever pagoda (a temple with no entry inside) or paya (a temple in which you can enter) that caught my interest. Some of the temples are enormous, being several stories high and attracting thousands of visitors a day, while others are more off the beaten path, where I found myself completely alone in these amazing structures.

All around Bagan the local people, especially children, hang around the highly visited temples in order to make a buck or two off the tourists. At the most visited temples, stands are manned by women selling a variety of clothing, jewelry, and many other souvenirs. Others sell beautiful paintings on white cloth. All of the children sell post cards, which they are relentless salesmen. At one temple I met a fifteen year old boy. After turning down his multiple postcard pitches, I agreed to hire him for the next morning to take me around from sunrise until noon. We agreed on $10 and he said he would meet me at my hotel the next morning at 5:30 am. 

My first evening about an hour before sunset, two Burmese girls asked where I was going to watch the sunset. Not really knowing, I told them the enormous pagoda that most people view it from. They said nonsense and told me to follow them to a completely off the path paya where we watch the sun dip below the western mountains turning the sky a combination of reds, oranges, and pinks. The pagoda where I was intending to go was packed with hundreds of people, where only the three of us sat quietly upon this hidden gem of a paya. I took note of the location and intended to come back the next day.

My second day was spent with my guide, Pew Pweh, who took me around the less visited temples. We went back to the pay a the two girls showed me and watched a stunning scene of the sun rising while the dozens of hot air balloons rose into the sky. It was a truly beautiful scene.

Finally my third day was spent doing more of the same. By the end of my third day I was getting pretty “templed out” and was ready to move on. In the end I watched three sunsets and two sunrises, with the sunrises being the most spectacular part of my stay in Bagan. In all it was a fun three days touring one of the most famous places in the world.

Here's the video. Youtube said that my use of ELO's song violated copyright terms so the song may not play for you, but nonetheless:

Return to Yangon and the Train to Bagan

After two days spent exploring the area of Inle Lake, I was torn about which direction to head next. I originally had planned on heading west to the temples of Bagan, but I felt that I had not spent enough time in Yangon with Sian’s family. Knowing I had plenty of time left in my stay in Myanmar, I took an overnight bus back to Yangon to spend the weekend with my most gracious hosts.

During the weekend, my confidence in the decision to return to Yangon grew. Cooked and served selflessly by the mother and many of the sisters, I enjoyed multiple meals at their home, met the sixth sister, watched Burmese and Korean movies (of which I understood nothing), laughed uncontrollably as the sisters spread thanakha on my face, and took pictures of me with all of the family. All of these things I did not get to experience on my first and too brief trip the weekend before.

I again said goodbye to Sian’s family and Yangon, but this time I left content knowing that I was leaving not rushed, but with a sense of completeness in my stay in Yangon. Wanting to experience the infamous trains in Myanmar, I boarded the overnight train to Bagan. With the almost all foreigner sleeper cars all booked out, I paid $6.50 to go local by riding in the second class cars. Rather than beds our evening, night, and morning was to be spent on meagerly cushioned bench seats.

Myanmar’s trains ride atop track laid decades ago and have not been maintained as rigorously as many western countries. This is immediately felt by any passenger as he or she is violently thrown side to side, up and down as the train rumbles along. Things such as closed windows and doors are seen as safety standards back home, but here in Myanmar are unnecessary safety nets. Doors swing open back and forth and windows are open wide exposing the contents of the train cars to the rapidly passing outdoor elements.

Expecting a bumpy journey, the off road feeling of the ride did not take me off guard. The wide open windows acted as large HD television screens to live happenings as we passed from city to villages and countryside. During the 19 hour ride, when it was light out, I was glued to the window, waving at smiling children, taking in the golden glow of sunset and sunrise, and passing farmers laboring over their next crop.

Without the wide open window and the ever changing views it displayed on its screen, the train ride would have been a miserable one. Being too bumpy to read, write, or draw there was little else to do. Luckily I befriended the five Buddhist monks sitting around me by offering them cigars that I had bought in Inle Lake when I saw they were all smoking. They showed their gratitude with smiling faces and by offering me an energy drink. A younger monk, who spoke next to no English, but still more than the others, then pulled out his tablet and showed me various Myanmar and western videos. While we could not speak much to each other, the experience added a friendly note to the otherwise solitary train ride.

When night finally cloaked the daytime in an ebony blanket, the temperature dropped below comfortable levels and windows were shut. Being on our lowly second class seats and with the incessant jerking back and forth, sleep was fleeting. The seats were too small to even attempt the fetal position, resulting in the only option being to awkwardly twist to allow my feet to settle on the opposite seat. I managed to sleep in hour increments a few times until sunrise, each time awaking to one of my legs asleep.

Though the night seemed like it never would end, the sun eventually did rise and the windows unhatched to reveal the golden Myanmar countryside. Given coffee by my newly made monk friends, I warmed up slowly as we bounced our way to Bagan. Finally, 19 hours after saying goodbye to Sian’s family, I arrived in Bagan to start the next phase of my trip.

Inle Lake

Leaving Yangon and the welcoming embrace of the family in Yangon, I boarded the overnight bus to Inle Lake, located in the Shan State north of Yangon. After eleven hours on the bus, I arrived at Inle Lake at 5:00 AM to a rather brisk temperature of 9 degrees C (mid 40’s F), which though nothing compared to my normal habitat of Chicago, nonetheless felt frigid after my usual balmy 25-32 C (70-90ish F).

Spending only two nights at Inle, my first day was a typical tourist’s agenda for one of the most popular tourist sights in Myanmar. Renting a bike from my hotel ($1.45), I biked to the expansive lake and hired a boatman to take me around the lake for about six hours. The lake itself is home to a large community of people who live in wooden and bamboo homes raised up on stilts through the shallow lake. Along the ride we viewed fishermen laboring for the daily catch, school children playing on a grassy island where their school is located, and many locals taxiing through the lake on wooden canoes. The lake itself is stunningly beautiful with mountains that run parallel along both sides of the lake.

After getting more Vitamin D than an average Chicagoan gets all winter, I leisurely biked over to the Red Mountain Winery, which is one of two wineries in all of Myanmar, to unwind after my rather stressful day of lounging on a boat. Tasting four different wines all for the price of $2.00, I joined a few Europeans to watch the sun slowly retreat behind the mountains giving way to brilliant oranges, pinks, and purples.

The next day I again rented a bicycle and spent the day biking around the other side of the lake. I ended the afternoon by relaxing at a natural hot spring.

While Inle Lake is one of Myanmar’s most popular tourist destinations, the quantity of tourists pales in comparison to even the most average sight in Thailand. Nonetheless, the area still felt very touristy with people hawking different souvenirs and tourist services at you. But in the end, I left Inle Lake feeling fortunate that I was able to view such a beautiful area.

 

Yangon

After two short flights I finally left Thailand after two months and landed in Yangon, Myanmar. Formerly known as Rangoon, Yangon was the capital of Myanmar until about five years ago when the capital was changed to the current city of Naypyidaw. Being the largest city in Myanmar, Yangon is a bustling place with streets jammed with white taxis, pagodas, and people selling an eclectic assortment of foods on the streets.

Unlike the rather homogeneous Thailand and rest of Southeast Asia, many different ethnicities call Myanmar home, for it acts as a crossroads between India and the rest of east Asia. Skin colors ranging from the darkest hues to the lightest give variety to Myanmar, especially in Yangon, with many residents having Indian, Bangladeshi, and Chinese heritages.

Also unlike Thailand, which is developed quite extensively, Myanmar is just beginning to open up its doors to globalization and the development that comes with it. As a consequence, Myanmar seems to have maintained a large part of its culture; something that in Thailand has seemed to diminish. Some of this culture is seen worn on almost every citizen: longyis, long cloths worn by men instead of pants and thanakha, a cream colored powder scraped from tree bark worn as a dual sunscreen and makeup.

Originally when I was planning this trip in October and November, Myanmar was not on my list of countries I hoped to visit. It was not until my Dad mentioned to a close Burmese friend, Sian, that I planned to travel to Southeast Asia, that Myanmar crossed my mind. Telling me that I could visit his six sisters and parents who lived together in Yangon, I quickly applied for a visa online and added Myanmar to my agenda. Before I jetted from the western hemisphere for Bangkok, I packed along with my belongings some things for Sian's family, including two unopened iPhone 5's.

After two months of lugging this rather heavy cargo through Thailand, I finally was able to meet the family in which these phones would end up with. Exiting the airport, I was warmly welcomed by two of the sisters, Lun and Kim. They quickly bargained for a taxi and we were off into the pulsing heart of Yangon, China Town. We quickly entered a swarming city with people everywhere, the strong mixture of aromas of nearby food stalls, and the hectic sounds of honking cars as they weaved inches by pedestrians. Before showing me to my hostel, we sat down for my first Burmese meal, which was delicious ("Sa-luh-kawn-deh" in Burmese) and consisted of fish, prawn salad, fried vegetables, and of course, mounds of white rice.

The next day, I went to their home to meet the other four sisters and parents. Out of the eight family members, three spoke enough English to carry a decent conversation, so as expected there were many bouts of silence that only the chanting from the local Buddhist temple and shouts of the street vendors could fill. While these silences were the farthest from awkward, we did Skype back home with my parents and their brother/son Sian, which was an excellent way to translate and break the ice.

After socializing or at least attempting to, they generously gave me a longyi to wear before we went to lunch at a Burmese restaurant. Being that Myanmar is rather new as a country to travel to, seeing a westerner on the streets results in lots of staring, double takes, and the occasional “hello, how are you?” from the local people. So when seeing a westerner wearing a longyi and accompanied by seven Burmese women, the heads really start to turn. Being a rather unique experience for a white male coming from the United States, I have come to enjoy the attention.

The next day, again accompanied by two of the sisters, we drove, rather weaved in and out of traffic with no foreseeable rules of the road, for three hours to the Golden Rock, another sacred Buddhist sight set in the mountains east of Yangon. The rock, completely covered in gold (“Shwe” in Burmese), sits precariously on the edge of a ledge atop a long chain of mountains.

This was the last day before I intended to leave for Inle Lake north of Yangon. While my trip with this family was rather short, I left feeling the utmost thankful and indebted to this family for their immense generosity and kindness.





Finally able to upload some videos now: