| Submitted by: Virginia Scott, Australia |
| Submission Date: 24 November 2005 |
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It’s six o’clock by the time we walk back to Remember Inn and make arrangements to have dinner with England Mark. After showers and a change of clothes, we meet him at the Unique Café for the lovely atmosphere and a great meal. Now it’s bed by eight o’clock.
Thursday - 15th January, 2003
Nyaung Shwe
Today is a free day – nothing planned and no traveling which is nice for a change. We don’t breakfast till eight o’clock then stroll around town to look for the Three Sisters Café near the main canal. One of the sisters tells us that they only open at six o’clock so we’ll look for somewhere else to eat for lunch. Next to the Nan Chaung Canal, we stop at an empty restaurant for cold lime sodas. Our window opens onto the water so we can watch the noisy boats going past. From here we find a cute café in a quiet laneway and have salads for lunch. The friendly lady serving us asks if we’d like to visit a family from the ‘long-neck’ tribe. We’d heard that a few of them live on the outskirts of Nyaung Shwe and we’re keen to see them.
We follow our little lady through the unpaved streets and over a canal to the edge of town. Ending up in a backstreet, she stops to talk to two young men. They’re both wearing longyis and look no different to the rest of the men here in Burma. They are, however, from the Padaung hill tribe and the husbands of the ‘longneck’ women. After we pay them a small sum, they take across a tiny bridge and into an open yard behind a two-storey timber house. And here are the Padaung women – a young girl of about ten, a teenage girl and the two wives who look much older than their husbands (nothing wrong with that, I say). They all have straight, cropped black hair with a short fringe and wear knee length black skirts and long white tops all trimmed in pink. The lower parts of their legs are wrapped in a dark blue material and they wear red and green head pieces with coloured ribbons that come down on either side of their face. But the most amazing part of their dress is, of course, the brass rings around their knees, wrists and neck. The rings are worn throughout their life and are gradually added as the girl grows. The older women have about thirty thick rings around their necks which must be so heavy. The rings actually depress the collar bone rather than stretching the neck which creates an incredibly deformed look – surely it must be painful. The younger girls give us little smiles but the older women never smile at all – just like the whole experience, really – quite sad and sobering.
The teenage girl is sitting beneath a small structure on stilts. She’s weaving the traditional way with a simple wooden hand loom. This is how the women make their money and the wives show us the weavings they sell in the market. We buy a blanket, a bag and a scarf that will be treasured mementos of this amazing meeting.
Now one of the husbands points to the back of the house and here we find an old lady having a wash. She’s sitting on a wooden platform and pouring water on herself from a tall metal container. She’s wearing a simple grey sarong so we can see how strange the neck rings have made her body look. At first we’re afraid that we must be intruding on her privacy but she’s all smiles and tells us to come closer. She has a wonderful gentleness and tranquility so maybe we’re just being paranoid about the women being unhappy. And maybe it’s just another lesson in remembering not to judge other cultures according to our western values.
Before leaving we take a few photos then Mark quietly gives the two ladies some extra money which they won’t have to share with their husbands. It’s been a special experience – moving and shocking at the same time. And are we helping by giving them money or are we just being voyeurs – hard to know.
Now walking back through the Mingala Market we stop to buy incense and cheroots by the bundle which work out to be about half a cent each. Back at the Remember Inn we order beers and take them on to the roof to sit in the shade and relax in front of the mountains overlooking the town. More beers in the dining room downstairs and then back to our room for a sleep.
On dusk we walk down the road past the Shan Museum to watch young monks playing soccer. Afterwards we walk to the street behind the guesthouse to have a traditional massage. This has to be the best one yet. In a family home, we lie on raised mattresses for a one and three quarter hour massage. Mark and I are next to each other while another traveler sounds like he’s having massage orgasms behind a curtain a few feet away – what a weirdo! We laugh with the man and lady who are doing our massages. The incredible thing about this massage is not only the time for the small price, but we’re actually walked on just about the entire time. They hold onto beams in the low roof above us and walk up and down our legs and backs – agonizing at times but generally great. Afterwards we drink tea with the family who all want to be introduced. A definite language problem but we’re still able to communicate somehow.
Now it’s only a short walk to the Unique Café where we have another wonderful meal under the stars. We celebrate our last dinner in Myanmar with bacardis and strawberry juice – a fitting end to a lovely holiday.
Friday - 16th January, 2004
Nyaung Shwe to Heho to Yangon to Bangkok
An early start to pack and have breakfast before our car arrives at seven o’clock to drive us to Heho. The girls from the guesthouse wave goodbye reminding us again of just how lovely the Burmese people are. The one-hour drive to Heho is the essence of Myanmar and the time we’ve spent here. We pass farmers, ethnic women, green fields, monks, mountains, small villages and the ever present bullock carts. At Shwenyaung junction we turn onto the main road to arrive at Heho fifteen minutes later.
Here we turn into a long dirt track that leads to the tiny airport. After booking in our packs we find a sunny corner next to an open window and I lay across three seats for a sleep. Soon we’re told that the plane will be very late and that we’re all being given a free lunch. This means a ten-minute walk down the track to a café just off the road. About thirty of us sit at tables in the sun for our free drinks and noodles then Mark and I make our way back to the airport. Outside ladies are selling baskets of fresh strawberries so we spend an hour outside in the sun and eat a whole basketful. At last the plane arrives and in half an hour we’re back in Yangon with plenty of time to make our connection to Bangkok. We take off at four thirty and catch our last glimpse of this lovely country as we turn towards Thailand – ‘cezu tinbadeh’, Myanmar!
It’s been a trip we’ll never forget from the wonderful sights we’ve seen to the gentleness and kindness of the Burmese people and the experiences we’ve had with them. But now we’re back in Bangkok and ready for four glorious days in this city that we love so much. It’s incomparably different to Myanmar with high-rise buildings, elevated freeways and traffic clogged roads but its excitement blows me away every time. The airport bus is filled to the brim till someone decides we need an extra bus so we soon stop to unload half the people. This means an hour and a half of stuffing around but only makes us extra happy to finally arrive at Khao San Road.
There’s often a problem getting accommodation this late in the day but fortunately the Bamboo Guesthouse has one double room left. The window faces the sun and our room is like a sauna so we head straight back out into the streets. We spend the rest of the night in Soi Rambutri drinking and eating fresh seafood cooked fresh on the street.
Saturday - 17th January, 2004
Bangkok
Today is hot and humid from the moment we wake up. After breakfast downstairs and cold showers we catch a ferry to the Wat Po pier and wander around the so-called up-market area in search of a tailor shop to get suits and shirts made for Mark. Everywhere seems to be the same price as the tailors in Khao San Road and so no advantage in having them made anywhere else. We walk for ages and stop at an Irish Bar for drinks but decide we hate the whole scene around here and make a beeline back to Khao San Road in the fastest tuktuk we can find. Back to our favourite at Aviv Clothes Making we meet up with our old friend, Alex. We’ve had clothes made with him before and Mark now orders three suits, three pairs of pants, six shirts and seven silk ties. Alex has taken a definite liking to Mark and wants us to come back tonight for a fitting and then to take us out to dinner.
The rest of the day is spent having a massage at Mammas and lots of drinking and eating. At six o’clock we meet Alex and cross Khao San Road to an Indian restaurant on the first floor of a building opposite Aviv. He tells us about his life here and in India while we have a wonderful Indian meal.
Sunday - 18th January, 2004
Bangkok
This morning we catch a taxi to the nearest monorail station to catch the Bangkok Skyway to the Chatuchak Weekend Market. It takes about twenty minutes before we jump out with hundreds of local people. The market is a short walk from the skyway station and we spend three hours wandering around the thousands of stalls. It’s divided into different areas according to what’s for sale. The animal market is the most interesting selling chickens and lots of fluffy dogs. We buy a ceramic teaset decorated with gold but too hot and bothered to buy anything else.
Monday and Tuesday - 19th and 20th January, 2004
Bangkok
The next two days are ‘same, same’, as they say here in Asia - wonderfully lazy and carefree. We have oil massages, Thai massages, manicures, pedicures, visit the temple, buy untold CD’s and a magnificent praying lady in Khao San Road. We visit the Mahatat Amulet Market and spend the nights in Thanon Rhambutri eating seafood and drinking at the tables next to the temple.
At two o’clock on Tuesday afternoon we catch a taxi to the airport for our five thirty flight to Sydney.
Yet another wonderful Asian holiday! We’ll be back in June on our way home from Italy. And can’t wait!!
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