September 7, 2007

Inle Lake (MYANMAR)

A Day-Long Boat Trip Around Inle Lake

Yesterday afternoon we booked in advance a local Burmese for a day of boating around Inle Lake. Before leaving to meet him this morning, we tried eating the complimentary breakfast at the guest house - omelets, bananas, mango and papaya, coffee, and orange juice - but we spent most of the time chasing away the many mosquitoes that infest southeast Asia.

Mosquitoes really should be cause for serious concern given the recent outbreaks of dengue fever (not to mention malaria), but for whatever reason it seems too trivial to worry about. Irresponsible and negligent? Probably, but I use mosquito repellent and usually sleep under mosquito nets. The rest is out of my hands.

We met the boat driver at 7:30am near the canal docks that lead to the large water mass comprising Inle Lake. Our driver knew maybe three words we could understand ("Speak no English" kind of thing), but he was incredibly friendly and set us up in cushioned chairs on his 20 foot long-boat. There was a noisy motor on the back that did most of the propelling, but every time I took my camera out to snap a photo he noticed and slowed down without asking. The scenery was beautiful - the lake is hedged in by mountain ranges - and we passed boat after boat full of fresh fruit and vegetables. Apparently, most of the food is grown in the surrounding area and brought to the various villages to be sold in the markets.

The lake trip was to be a full day spent touring the lake with our boatmen taking us from location to location. We had tickets for the overnight bus to Mandalay, leaving at 6pm, so our only restraint was being back into town by 4pm.

Our first stop on the day-trip was at one of the larger villages surrounding the lake (and one of the few located on dry land). We put-putted our way through the small canals -passing a maze of stilted houses as shown to the left - until we reached the village dock. Climbing out of the wobbly boat was a tricky process and the knowledge that the lake also served as the sewage system for the nearby homes only added to my desire to stay dry. Fortunately, there were no 'incidents'.

We proceeded to follow our driver up a dirt path, and looked on as he pointed in a vague direction and muttered something about a 'market'. We smiled appreciatively, without really understanding where we were supposed to go, and started down the path.

One of the first things we passed was a large primary school that draws students from the surrounding area. All along the road were young boys and girls dressed in longyis and walking in the kind of small childhood groups that exist everywhere. We stood at the school's gates watching the kids play before class started.

Unsurprisingly, we drew attention from the kids who noticed us; they seemed to be every bit as curious of us as we were of them. This was a pleasant arrangement: we were both free to study one another without feeling awkward about it.

We ended up taking a picture of a few stragglers who arrived well after their peers were called into class . I wish I spoke better Burmese because the kids were all laughs and probably had a great story to tell about being late (the three of them were clearly up to no good). Nevertheless, it felt strangely nostalgic to see the 'Drugs Free School' sign.

We continued onward in search of the market, trying our best to follow the flow of locals at each fork in the road. We ended up hearing the market before we could see it, and as we approached a smile swept across my face. This was the kind of tucked away market that is difficult to find nowadays as they become tourist magnets and lose their charm. This place was the polar opposite as swarms of locals were everywhere and were surprised to see two westerners among them. This is always the best indicator of authenticity.

There were men having their hair cut under the tarp enclosures, fish being sold fresh from the lake (in other words, still flapping around), vegetables of every shape and color, make-shift noodle tables selling something that looked tasty but smelled awful, semi-permanent stalls selling embroidered fabrics and, most importantly, a shop selling longyis. I have been looking to buy one since I arrived, and today I finally had my moment of glory. The only trouble was I couldn't tie the longyi without the help of the locals and it kept coming undone. Groups would gather around when I struggled with the tying - getting a real kick out of the whole thing - and I was happy to play the role of the curious, yet interested, foreigner.

We spent far longer at the market than the boatmen expected, but it was simply too interesting to rush through. Our next destination took us straight across the lake where large villages stood towering over the water on wooden supports.

Our driver must have been operating on commission because he took us to a variety of traditional handicraft shops. Each place offered a walking tour of the facility, in order to see the authenticity of whatever it was they were making, but the prices were always inflated. It was bad business sense to sell fabrics at a price 10 times that found at the market we just visited. We saw silk weaving (if I had a penny every time I have been to one of these I would be a rich man), cigar rolling, and even boat building. The only place at which we bought something was at the 'cigar factory'. Although I am not a smoker I was curious to try out one of the cheap cigars. It probably wasn't the best of ideas as the cigar was quite potent and had a porous filter.

We ate lunch at a restaurant directly across the waterway from a large Buddhist temple called Phaung-Daw-Oo Pagoda. As always, the pagoda was covered in gold, and although it attracts swarms of visitors (locals and tourists alike),  far more interesting was the golden boat located nearby. I really fail to understand how so much money can be invested in something as trivial as a golden boat, but again I am from a different background. Perhaps the Burmese would fail to understand how the United States could 'invest' billions of dollars every week on a war in Iraq. Fair enough, I suppose.

The next place on the agenda was Shwe Inn Thein, which is comprised of hundreds of ancient stupas, and is tucked away in a winding canal with overhanging vegetation. The experience of getting there was worthwhile in itself, and at one point we passed a man using a blowgun to shoot fish in the water. Seeing such a technique was a first for me, and I am not really sure how the darts are ever recovered; it could probably use a lot of improvement.

There was a long walk from the dock to reach the stupas. Most of the way was under a concrete overhang with abandoned tables lining both sides of the walk. When we reached the end there was a main Buddhist temple with a local Burmese man playing some kind of a guitar and collecting donations for the restoration of the stupas. We left a few hundred kyat each before venturing out into the surrounding area where the stupas speckle the landscape.

There were a handful of workers doing restoration work on the more aged stupas while others worked to construct new ones. Unsurprisingly, the new stupas were all covered in gold, and each had a small plaque with the name of a contributing donor. The nationalities of the donors ranged from Singapore to Sweden, and everything in between. I suppose these people must have visited the sight and chosen to 'adopt' one, otherwise I have no idea how they would hear about such an opportunity.

The quirkiest part of Shwe Inn Thein was all the dogs that lived there. Most were ragged looking, but there were new-born dogs that still had a strong charm about them. In all, there must have been over 40 or 50 dogs around (I counted 24 at one point, and that was with hardly any effort). I am not really sure why I mention this, but perhaps if someone comes here in the future they will have the satisfaction of saying 'Well, would you look at all those dogs! That damn guy was right!'

Or maybe I am just being overly optimistic and the dog story bored the hell out of you.

We had to cut the last sight of the day out of the itinerary because we were running out of time. Supposedly there is a Buddhist temple that trained cats to jump through hoops and perform tricks. It sounded like an amazing thing to see and was one of the places we were most excited about, but catching the bus to Mandalay obviously took precedent.

We reached our guest house at 4:30 in the afternoon, quickly grabbed our sacks, and hustled to the sawngthaew station. After a bit of waiting around we caught a lift to the 'main' road where we waited for the evening bus. It was running a couple hours behind (meaning we could have seen the cat performance), but we finally boarded at 8pm. Jo and I were crammed into two seats on the bouncing bus, and as is always the case in Southeast Asian countries, there was blaring music the whole way. Neither of us got much sleep, but I had a particularly difficult time with the lack of leg room. The most important thing is we would arrive tomorrow morning in the former capital of Mandalay.