Part 1 — from Bill and Sherry — written after they were back on board ship.
Life changing. Awesome. Incredible. Overwhelming. Beautiful people. I was traveling alone and this mother with eight children who lives in a small one-room house invited me in to eat with them. … I’ll need some time to unpack what this trip has meant to me.
These were the words of one of the students that we talked with in the Bagan airport on our way back to Yangon (Rangoon).
When the dam broke and the village was flooded we were stranded. An open truck came to carry us across the water. We piled on with the local people and everyone was laughing and giving us a hand to get on. A military man started to get on and the locals turned their backs to him. One of our students finally held out a hand to pull him up.
This was the story one of the faculty told me today at lunch.
A few of us were in the tea house with the local people. We were laughing and enjoying the popular music and all of a sudden everything became quiet and we looked around and all the locals were gone. Three soldiers were standing in the doorway.
These and similar comments have been repeated over and over by students and faculty as we gather back on the ship and exchange views about Myanmar (Burma). The days in Myanmar have had a lasting and profound effect on all of us. It is difficult to know where to begin.
First, some background – for our memories especially. Up to you how you read it – NO TEST AT THE END.
First some geography. I had to check the map when we decided to come to remember exactly where Myanmar was located. During the colonial period it was part of India and it borders India and Bangladesh to its west, China to the north, and Laos and Thailand to the east.
Maybe the best place to begin is with a little recent history and politics. Like so much of Asia, Burma’s modern history is that of colonialism.
• Burma was invaded by the British in the 1820s and became part of the British Colonial Empire. It was administered as part of India and became one of the most prosperous countries of Southeast Asian. (An aside: George Orwell was a British officer in Burma in the 1930s and wrote the novel Burmese Days that reflects his growing sense of disillusion with British rule. Some see his Animal Farm and Nineteen Eighty-four as prescient of the totalitarian rule that was to come.) • The Japanese occupied Burma during World War II and a resistance movement that had begun to form in the 30s was ready to push for independence after the war.
• Burma became independent in 1948 and opted not to remain part of the British Commonwealth. Burma is a hodgepodge of ethnic groups and chaos broke out almost immediately. There was a Communist Party, an anti-Fascist group, the Kuomintang (Nationalist Chinese who were forced out of China caused problems), several ethnic minority groups had their militia, and who knows what else. • 1962 a left wing army revolt took over and established some sense of order but serious problems, including a couple of coups, and the military continued in control for the next 25 years.
• 1987-88 was the period of major demonstrations by a strong pro-democracy movement. Aung San Suu Kyi, the daughter of a national hero, Bogyoke Aung San who had led the earlier independence movement, came back from England to lead the pro democracy coalition, the National League for Democracy (NLD).
In a few weeks over 3000 protesters were killed, unknown numbers were imprisoned, and Aung San Suu Kyi was put under house arrest. The military leadership promised an election.
• The 1990 election surprised everyone. The NLD won a whooping 68% of the vote. And 80% of the seats in the parliament. The junta moved in and did not allow the NLD to assume leadership and have continued to rule. They have promised a new constitution, but promises are only that.
• Aung San Suu Kyi has become an international hero. She was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1991 but although she was released in 1995, she continued to speak on behalf of her beliefs and she was rearrested. Again released in 2002 after international pressure, has been under house arrest since early 2003.
Burma was re-named Myanmar by the military government in 1988. The official line is that this is an ancient name and more appropriately represents ALL the people. Burma, so the story goes, represents only the dominant Burman ethnic group. Also in 1988 Rangoon became Yangon; Pagan became Bagan; and so on. Mandalay remained Mandalay.
Myanmar may be the most repressive government outside of some countries of sub-Saharan Africa. We were warned not to ask any questions about politics or human rights because the secret police are supposedly ever present and a person can be imprisoned (or worse) for talking with foreigners about such things. They were supposedly particularly tense because Bush has just gotten the UN Security Council to put Myanmar’s human rights stuff on the agenda.
There is obviously no freedom of speech or the press and many internet connections are blocked. Many Human Rights Groups oppose travel to the country, arguing that any money spent in Burma supports the military junta.
Others argue that our very presence is the only window to the outside that many people have and say that any dollars spent in the small shops are the life-bread for local families. Truth on both sides.
Burma is probably the most religious (read that, Buddhist) of any Asian country that we have visited. We decided to take the advice of our friend, Audrey Stein, and spent most our time in Bagan, the center of an ancient civilization and the heartland of traditional Theravada Buddhism. Red robed monks from about age 9 to old men are everywhere, often carrying their begging bowls.
Bagan is picture-card Burma. It’s a little more than an hour flight from Yangon/Rangoon. Located on the wide, winding Irrawaddy River (renamed Ayeyarwady), Bagan is home of over 3,000 Buddhist temples and pagodas. Small and large; individual edifices or complex “campuses” including lecture halls, temples and shrines; some are red-brick multistoried, terraced monuments that can be climbed for views of the countryside; others are golden bell-shaped beauties that can be seen from miles away. The pagodas are solid buildings with relics of the Buddha buried inside; the temples have a primary chamber where devotees bring offerings of flowers or fruit (or money!) as well as shrine rooms. And the Buddhas! Not one or two, but thousands of golden or stark- white enormous sitting, or standing, or reclining Buddhas. The result is sensory overload.
Sometime in the mid nineties (I think) the military honchos announced that all the many people living in the area among the shrines (literally between them) would be moved “for their own good” and to protect the pagodas from pollution. So almost over night, whole villages were re-located to areas about 4 miles away (now called the New Bagan). The cleared area is now called the Archeological Zone and indeed there is evidence of some work being done.
Most of the pagodas and temples were built at the height of the Buddhist culture in the 11-13th century by the kings and royalty in order to gain merit and be rewarded with a better life in the next life. (Think reincarnation.) Others were built by ordinary people likewise concerned about their next existence.
Enough background. How about our experience?
IINFRASTRUCTURE
The roads on the hour long bus ride from the ship into Yangon were our first tip off of thing to come. The ruts and potholes were so numerous, that it was truly an obstacle course with drivers paying very little heed to lanes or street markings. (For road conditions think of roads in small Midwest towns after FIVE to TEN winters with no repairs.} As we got into the outskirts, we began to see five or six storey apartment buildings erected since 1980. The buildings, painted white, were covered with heavy black mold.
As we drove along, we passed dozens of buses of various sizes – all packed as fully as humanly possible. There were also trucks in the half-ton size with a covered cargo area. People sat on benches along the sides, arms hanging out glassless windows; the top was full of sitting passengers; and several men were standing on the rear step holding onto railings. An outrider hung on to one of the railings with one hand while he held his other hand out with a clutch of bills – ready to collect from the next customer. There were also small pick up trucks outfitted with seats – most of 1950s vintage. THERE ARE NO MOTOR BIKES OR SCOOTERS IN YANGON. One
story that we heard was that one of the generals didn’t like motorbikes, so they were outlawed in Yangon. Another story (the party line) was that it was to keep down smog. Whatever the truth, the poor Yangonese suffer
immensely as they make their way to work. There are many, many cabs – many ancient – and they drive on any open stretch with sheer kismet = Que Sera’, Sera’ In contrast to Vietnam, pedestrians are fair game and literally run the gauntlet except where there are traffic lights.
The sidewalks in the middle of the city are truly an obstacle course. Many were made of 12-16 inch concrete stepping stones set on supports with a foot or more of space beneath them. So many are broken, that one has to be on constant alert not to disappear into a yawning chasm. In New York City, people don’t make eye contact for privacy, safety, and custom. In Yangon, the problem is solved. IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO MAKE EYE CONTACT AND REMAIN HEALTHY.
As in China and Vietnam, the sidewalks are teeming, and small shops spill over the walkways. Stepping into the street, by necessity, is a major hazard but almost everyone does.
The PEOPLE
“One dollah” “Two for five dollah – I make you good price”. The Burmese WILL not take no for an answer. They will stick with you, pulling out yet another shirt or shawl until one gives up and buys something or finds the safety of the bus or enters a store or a temple. We found much needed renewal of interest in religion while in Myanmar!
At the same time, the people are friendly, friendly. Almost everyone has a wave, a smile, and a greeting, even if they are not selling. Our ship disgorged about 600 people into Myanmar for five short days, and it was a great occasion for the locals. They get Germans, Italians, and Korean tourists, but usually by the busload, not the boatload. Our students do not suffer from a shyness gene; they are much more outgoing than the Burmese; and they are determined to make the most of their five-day “tastings” of various counties. They were noticed! As were we by association.
MONSOON
We have heard about the monsoons for decades, and, of course we have periodically seen pictures of Mombai (Bombay until the British left) with people wading through thigh deep water. But we had never experienced
monsoon rain. Indeed, we arrived in Burma at least a week after the monsoon season was to have ended. Whatever the reason – global warming, failure of someone to propitiate the proper god – the rains remained. We
were actually pretty lucky. After a tour of Yangon, we boarded a plane for an hour and a half flight to Bagan – the city with several thousand pagodas, temples, and stupas.
We went to a beautiful riverside hotel, laid out with a series of bungalow accommodations. I had the auspicious title of TRIP LEADER – a riff of the snare drums, please – and so Sherry and I got the prize unit right on the river at the bottom of spacious gardens and a beautiful lawn out in front. (OK, a bit of reality. As trip leader I got to check people on and off of the bus and to assign Dock Time to those who were more than ten minutes late
arriving at the bus. Power, baby, power.)
Over the next three days, we actually lucked out a good bit in being able to visit the array of pagodas, local markets, the lacquer factory, etc. But we were aware of the toll that rains had taken with flooded roads – once off the main road, a sea of mud and large ponds on the road and in the adjoining fields. But, again, we lucked out. We went off the first morning to climb the 100 BIG steps up the highest local temple to look over the countryside, which looked like a giant upended chessboard with the pieces scattered randomly around.
Sherry described Bagan above. Our days were filled with sorties of various kinds; climbing up the tallest temple to view the landscape in early morning light; visiting various pagodas in our BARE feet (the Burmese take their shoes off as they enter the temple complex — we shuddered at what might be lurking in the dirt and water in which we walked); a visit to a small local village and its school; a visit to a local outdoor market; a sunset boat ride on the Irrawaddy; and a two hour siesta break each afternoon back in our sumptuous digs. Our last night in Bagan, four of our groups joined together for a wonderful dinner and evening of folk dancing to the unique Asian sounds of many percussion instruments held in a candle-lit temple.
Monsoon rains!! Two of our groups had gone to Mandalay for a day or two and then were to bus to Bagan to join us. The rains were so heavy that one group took 14 hours to make the normally 4 hour trip. A dam broke,
flooding local villages and washing out roads. The group had to get off their bus and carry their luggage through knee deep water to cross a stream.
In one village they took up a collection of $200 for the devastated villagers. A second group to Mandalay had to take a boat up the river to Bagan because all roads were closed by their departure time. On our final day we were to go to Mt. Popa – a 7000 foot mountain with an ancient temple on top. Thirty minutes from our hotel, we found ourselves in a mass of buses, trucks, and taxis, all stopped by a washed out road. We watched
cats and tractors pulling diesel trucks and buses, along with groups of men trying vainly to push vehicles out of deep holes the wheels had dug into the sand. The villagers had placed bamboo “rugs” and branches under the wheels to provide some traction. There were three more such rivers ahead of us – needless to say, our plans were changed.
Part of what made this trip very special is that our good friends from the 2002 voyage, Judy and Ira Denton, joined us. Since 2003 they have been spending several months every year in Thailand. We were thrilled that they agreed to fly from Bangkok to Yangon and join us for this trip.
Tags: Burma