Myanmar Part 1 - Yangon

Well here we go again – this time 9 days in Myanmar. If you are wondering where the heck (and what the heck) Myanmar is, you probably know it as Burma. The British renamed Myanmar as Burma (after the majority Bamar, or Burmese people) when they “colonized” Myanmar in the late 1800s. The current military junta (a horrible government) restored the original name in 1989. So unless you want to sound like a colonialist (and it seems most western governments do – with the excuse that they use Burma so as not to justify the Myanmar government), Myanmar is the correct name. A few quick things before we get going:

• Myanmar, with a population of 52 million, borders Thailand (southeast), Laos (east), China (northeast), Tibet (north), India (northwest) and Bangladesh (west). The Bamar are the dominant ethnic group, but Myanmar has many ethnic groups, including many ethnic hill tribes.
• The government of Myanmar is a military junta that took power in 1988 after the fall of the Socialist government. The opposition (called the National League for Democracy or NLD) was led by Aung San Suu Kyi, who has been placed under house arrest three times (she is currently still under house arrest). The government thought it had suppressed the opposition enough by 1990 to hold general elections; except they were soundly defeated (they lost 392 of the 485 contested seats). The government then disqualified, imprisoned, exiled and killed many of the leaders of the NLD – obviously they did not give up power. Many believe that the elections were just a ruse to get the NLD leaders out into the open.
• Since 2003 (when Aung San Suu Kyi was put under house arrest for the third time) most western countries have full economic sanctions against Myanmar (note that Coke is widely available – I don’t know how but I assume they are somehow set up so they aren’t an American company, or some bottler isn’t or something underhanded like that - and we certainly wouldn’t want to deprive any country of their need for Coke). However, most of the Asian countries (including China and Japan) do not recognize these sanctions and continue to trade with Myanmar.
• There is a huge debate about whether a tourist should go to Myanmar or not. Aung San Suu Kyi has asked tourists not to go, as she sees it as legitimizing the current government. Many tourists (myself included, obviously) don’t think that boycotting the country helps the people at all. One should try and minimize the money that goes to the government (i.e. don’t stay at government run hotels or use the government run airline) wherever possible. Plus, for many locals almost all of their income (and knowledge of events outside the country) come from tourists. I also think this fits into the bigger picture of how economic sanctions are completely useless (think Cuba).
• The local currency is Kyat (pronounce “she-ought” – at least I think so) and is officially traded at 450k to $1. However, no one gets that rate, unless you are the most uninformed tourist of all time. The prevailing rate we got there (you can exchange at hotels, on the street, just about everywhere – in fact walking around people will come up to you and ask you if you want to exchange) was 1300k to $1.

An interesting aside, your kyat can be in any shape – crumpled, ripped, etc. But you better have pristine US dollars – for some reason (and I have noticed this in some other foreign countries too) in Myanmar they won’t take a US bill that is torn, marked up (if you have the black pen mark on it that some banks/stores do to see if it is counterfeit – forget it), crumpled, etc. I had one $20 bill that had just the tiniest rip in it and every time I tried to use it (except the one time I was actually able to use it), the person would look at it and make clucking sounds, which would bring more people over to look at it – and then big discussions were going on. It is just utterly ridiculous. The Lonely Planet even mentions that due to some erroneous rumors, there are some serial numbers of bills that people won’t take because they think they are counterfeit.

Ok – I think that is probably enough information and we can get to the stories! One final warning – please note that I write these things under a sound Nehm-ism: “Why let the truth get in the way of a good story.” You have been disclaimed.

Yangon – Saturday October 21 to Sunday October 22

So we first had to deal with a re-entry permit fiasco. I am in Thailand on a Tourist Visa, and at the Thai Consulate in Chicago where I got my visa they would only allow one entry, telling me to get a re-entry permit when I needed to. So I procrastinated when I heard you could get them at the airport and figured that was cool. After Margaret and I had turned over our passports to the Myanmar Embassy to get our Myanmar visas, a few people from Margaret’s school told us not to use the new airport to get the re-entry permit. Some said it was just too slow and others said they hadn’t opened the office at the new airport. Anyway, we didn’t get our passports back until Friday night and were leaving Saturday late morning. The suggestion given to us was to go to the Immigration Office first thing on Saturday morning, get the re-entry permit (people said it would only take 15-20 minutes) and then go to the airport and hope you make it on time. So I thought this was weird, seeing as the new airport is the biggest in the world – how could they not grant re-entry permits there? So Margaret and I went on a date to the new airport on Friday night just to check things out – and of course you can get them there. I couldn’t that night, because you need a boarding pass, but the next day it took only 20 minutes and I had my little re-entry permit. Lesson #1 – you don’t listen to anyone here – Thai or foreigner.

The flight to Yangon (formerly Rangoon – again, the British) is only an hour or so from Bangkok. As soon as you get into the airport you are attacked by people wanting to sell you airfares, car rides, treks, exchange of money, etc. And Margaret and I must have looked like easy prey. Anyway we end up taking a taxi with “John” (the one who accosted us in the airport) and “Johnny” the cab driver. John wanted us to book everything with him, and even stopped at a place for us to exchange money. We made him take us to our hotel though, as the Lonely Planet suggested to do. We went by a lake and John mentioned that in Yangon the lake is known as “hanky-panky lake” as all the teens go there on dates. I just love how terms like “hanky-panky” get exported.

Our hotel is awesome – Haven Inn, such a cozy little place, run by the retired Dr. Htun. If anyone goes to Yangon, I would highly recommend this place.

We sat down with Dr. Htun and went over a little itinerary I had created of where we wanted to go and how I thought we should do it (I even had a spreadsheet). Within 30 seconds my itinerary was kaput. With Dr. Htun’s help we figured out how we could do all we wanted to and in what order. He booked our flights and exchanged our money for us. And he really is a wealth of information.

We decided to take a quick tour of some of the big monuments of the city. We took a cab to the Chaukhtatgyi Paya, a huge reclining Buddha statue – the size of it is impossible to describe.

It was also our first encounter with the no “footwearing” or “sandaling” – as you must take off your shoes at any Paya, Temple, etc. And this leads to your feet getting disgustingly dirty.

After viewing the Buddha we decided to walk around a bit, and happened on a bunch of kids playing futbol (“I believe you call it soccer in your country. Oh yeah, soccer. That’s real cute. I love how you bounce that ball on your head. If you ask me, it ain’t a sport if you can’t use your hands.”), and they motioned to ask if I wanted to join them. With my declining athletic skills, I didn’t want them to get an impression of US soccer capabilities from me, so I declined.

We also noticed that a few of the monks we walked by were totaling checking out Margaret (and yes, I realize that I am going to hell).

We decided to walk to the Shwedagon Paya (which is THE famous landmark in Yangon) and I don’t think many foreigners do that walk. Most people were going to the sights by tour bus or van – drive somewhere, get out, snap a few pictures and get back in. As we walked along the street we got stares, smiles and laughter from just about everybody. And there is just nothing that brings smiles like babies. So many times people would look at us like exotic zoo animals and then we would smile at their adorable babies/kids and all of a sudden everyone is smiling and laughing. I gotta get me one of these little critters! A couple of other things you will notice in Myanmar – many people wear a type of sunscreen/makeup called Thanakha on their faces – it is yellow and very distinct. And men wear a sort of skirt, called longyi. It is quite interesting, as it is one of the only places in Asia where the majority of the population doesn’t wear western clothes (I am now the proud owner of a pair of said longyi, which I like to refer to as my Man-Skirt). Also, so many people chew the betel nut (from the areca palm) which is a mild intoxicant. But it also stains your teeth red and it takes some getting used to seeing the smile of a betel nut chewer (not to mention the red spit stains everywhere along the ground). We also happened to stroll by a store called Sunday Mart, which was like a mini little Target – there was even a bag check when you walked inside. The general impression of Yangon is of a very poor and run down city, yet as everywhere, there is money there – which I imagine is mostly government people and foreigners. Here are a few photos of the streets of Yangon (I am still particularly fond of the Hip Hop/Breakdance contest billboard:

We finally get to the Shwedagon Paya, after quite a long walk and have already missed the sunset. You can see Shwedagon from far away, but from the way we were coming it was hard to find a direct route. It is quite an amazing sight: a huge gold dome with many Buddha statues around. Although many of the Buddha’s have flashing multicolored neon lights behind them, that reminded me of Vegas slot machines. In fact another traveler that we met nicknamed them “Vegas Buddhas.” And you have to walk up a crap-load of steps, which are lined with souvenir stands of course. There are a ton of people around – and it is really awe-inspiring at night, although it didn’t make for good pictures. A monk comes up to us and wants to talk, but when you get roped into that they can end up keeping you for hours, so we politely went on our way.

We take a taxi back to downtown, and eat dinner at a Japanese Yakiniku restaurant, which was nothing special. The only thing I remember is there was no air conditioning (and there isn’t much in Myanmar) and barbequing right on the table made it hotter than a firecracker as my grandpa would say. After dinner we walked around downtown – and it is just booming – a sort of night market area with just about everything. And like during the day, we get looks and smiles and bad prices.

Myanmar is definitely the most “foreign” place I have ever been. And not to say that they don’t get tourists there, but the people really seem perplexed and interested in foreigners. I have never traveled to any big city where I saw fewer westerners. At one stall we buy some Cheroots, a very mild Myanmar cigar. We pay 200 kyat for the package (less then 10 cents) and the guys that sold it to us are howling laughing as if they totally ripped us off. We also see a vendor selling whole cooked baby birds. Needless to say, we didn’t try them.

We are boiling hot at that point, so decide to go to bar and cool off. We end up at the White Diamond Café and are the only tourists there.

A couple of Myanmar beers and cheroots later, we decide to venture out yet again. We decide on Frenz Bar & Grill, but the cab driver doesn’t know where it is (or doesn’t understand us) so we end up at Mr. Guitar Bar (which was on my itinerary although I had it down as My Guitar Bar), which is a place for local live music. There is a pianist and guitarist and they ROCK! The pianist has a great voice. And every so often a woman vocalist joins them for a set. The first time she does, Margaret guarantees we will hear a Cranberries song, and not three songs later they belt out “Zombie.” The Asians love their Cranberries! (How’s that for stereotyping?) It was a great night, which included us wolfing down some late nite fries and grilled cheese (and of course a few more Myanmar beers). Towards the end the pianist goes solo on some Burmese music – and it was just incredible. Margaret asks him after the show if he has any CDs – but he doesn’t. We say we may be back the next Saturday night and he says he will make us one. Want to guess if we made it back?

We start Sunday at the Haven Inn with a traditional Myanmar breakfast. Hotels in Myanmar pretty much all include breakfast in the room price. And rooms are really cheap. You can stay for $5 a night if you wanted/needed to. The Haven Inn was $15 per night and that is a double room with air con, hot water, private bathroom and breakfast. Try to beat that. The Myanmar breakfast is way too much food – noodles with broth (a very distinct flavor), fruit, pastries, OJ, coffee, etc. We can’t eat half of it.

We decide to walk to the main market, Bogyoke Aung San Market, but spend most of our time stopping in stores along the way. We get shirts (about $6 for a short sleeve button down), CDs of Myanmar groups (about $1 – and they are really good – Iron Cross does a cover of Mr. Big’s “To Be With You” and Extreme’s “Hole Hearted” among others – thought of you here Dudley), DVDs (they are 8 movies in 1 DVD – for $1.25 and we got 8 of them!) and the best mint chocolate chip ice cream ever! By this time it is boiling hot and we a bit, ahem, lost. So we stop in a grocery store and pick up some necessities (for those of you that know Margaret you will know that we bought mostly candy), use the bathroom and ask for directions to the market. This causes quite the scene as about four people converse and argue, finally giving us about 5 minutes worth of directions of which I understand, go right as you leave. We finally arrive at the market and decide to get a bite to eat, and then only have 10 minutes left to check out the market, as we have a flight to catch. This prompts Margaret to affectionately label me the “time Nazi”, although I would like to point out that we never missed a flight.

We get back to Haven and rest a bit and pack. Then off to the airport for our flight to Nyaung U (Bagan) on Air Bagan. We share a taxi with two Germans who are traveling the world and have just come from Africa, so we get some good stories on the ½ hour ride. At the airport it is crazy again – one guy grabs our luggage and goes and another grabs our tickets. Luckily they both work for Air Bagan and just want a tip. We meet another couple (both teachers at Margaret’s school), Dan and Liza, and sit right across from them on our flight. And it is a doozy. First there is no air con, and as the flight is sitting on the ground it is like an oven. Then we find out we aren’t going to Nyaung U first, that there is a stop in Mandalay. But it isn’t all bad, as we had to cut Mandalay off our itinerary, we can now at least say we have been there! It is a propeller plane, but quite nice actually (except for the ass-tuna sammich they served) and the ride is smooth and relaxing and we pull into Nyaung U around sunset, which makes for a nice view out the window upon landing (because of the temple ruins – you'll have to wait for Part 2!).

And, yes I know that I started just about every paragraph with "We" - as CB would say, oof-dah.