This post was written by Polly Szantor

Intrepid traveller Polly Szantor shares her fondest memories from an unforgettable trip around Myanmar.

I booked my flight to Myanmar after Aung San Suu Kyi was released from house arrest in 2002. By the time I arrived in Yangon, she was back in confinement and I was feeling faintly uncomfortable about making the journey.

I had travelled around Southeast Asia in 1998 and purposely avoided Myanmar because the deposed leader had asked tourists to stay away. As soon as she was freed, I jumped at the chance to visit. I should have been more savvy – perhaps it

was inevitable that the government of the time was toying with her. I even considered cancelling my trip when I heard she was no longer free, but I was too curious about this enigmatic country, and unable to resist the allure of a new and exotic destination.

Rain And English Lessons

When I first arrived, I spent a few days in Yangon. I ate on the street, bought original art at the market, and was roped into an impromptu English lesson with novice monks at one of the central parks. Their worksheets included sentences such as, “You’re not looking very fresh – what’s the matter with you?” and “That was a noble act.” Amid much laughter I tried to teach them a few phrases that were less stilted.

My most vivid memories, however, are of arriving at the Shwedagon Pagoda. I had been reminding myself to walk around the magnificent golden stupa in a clockwise direction but, as I reached the top of the escalator and arrived at the pagoda area, most of my focus was redirected to staying on my feet. It had been raining and the marble floor was more slippery than a freshly oiled skid patch. I watched locals ahead of me stepping out with confidence, but I had to creep along in a decrepit fashion, slowly wending my way from shrine to shrine, circling the beautiful pagoda with shuffling gait and not a small amount of fear.

Visiting the Shwedagon Pagoda is one of the definitive experiences of Yangon. The chedi is much larger than expected and amazingly stunning, especially when the rays of the sun reflect its golden brilliance. It’s a truly spiritual experience to sit awhile in contemplation amid tinkling temple bells and fluttering pigeons, and to join the faithful circumnavigating this most holy shrine.

Singing In The Hills

From Yangon, I moved on to Nyaung Shwe, where I enjoyed a tour of Inle Lake and, perhaps more importantly, I did something that was good for my soul. I had brought school supplies to Myanmar with the intention of giving them to a needy community and at my guesthouse in Nyaung Shwe I found a young man willing to take me to a Pa-O village where my supplies could be handed over.

Early one morning we climbed into the hills bordering the lake and, after around four hours’ trekking, we came to a small hamlet. The wooden schoolhouse was locked, so my resourceful guide asked to meet the headman and we were promptly ushered to a small, dirt-floored hut, where the headman lived with his wife and six children. We sat on the sleeping platform while his wife made tea. His children slowly filed in and sat on the dirt floor below us.

Presented with a youthful audience, I began to sing…“One, two, three, four, five, Once I caught a fish alive”…with actions to go with the words. One little girl dared to try, and slowly the others did too. They were poor little waifs – snotty-nosed and tousle-haired – but they gave up their fears and joined me in merry abandonment. “She’ll be coming ‘round the mountain when she comes – oooooo,” followed us down the track as we set off back to the town below. As we walked back I realised that my visit may have been the only time these children have contact with a Westerner and, on reflection, that may not be a bad thing.

Horses And Tears

In Bagan, I hired a horse cart for a few days. Every morning, Zaw Zaw, Moe, and I set out in the dark, hoping to see a spectacular sunrise. We were always disappointed –it was the wrong time of year – but we had fun visiting all the major temples and several minor ones. I will never forget my kindly driver gently urging his horse along. “Ha Moe, ha Moe lia,” he would sing, and the rhythm of hoof beats would pick up a little, but only a little, and only for a short while.

One afternoon, Zaw Zaw took me to a cave temple by a river, a little-visited place that appealed to me mightily. It was built into the side of a cliff and had a maze of catacombs behind it. I explored a bit, and the next day I asked to return. We talked to the caretaker, who led me deep into the pitch-black passages. I found a small monk’s cell that felt perfect, and settled myself down to meditate. I extinguished my torch and found there was no difference between having my eyes open or closed. There was total darkness and complete silence…that is, until my unwanted companion began to fidget and sniff.

Next came that awful phlegmy sound that always turns my stomach. I switched on my flashlight and very carefully shooed him away, with a reassurance that I’d be perfectly fine; and indeed I was. I stayed in my hot, humid cave for 90 minutes and it’s the first time I’ve ever found a completely silent space. It was an amazing experience, something I’ll always hope to repeat. Reluctantly returning to the main temple and the real world, I had to ask myself which reality was in fact the most genuine.

Zaw Zaw told me that one of his dreams was to be able to afford a second horse, and I hoped his wishes would come true. When I left Bagan, I gave him the rest of my kyat. As I walked to the airport, I turned to wave and we both had tears rolling down our cheeks.

That’s the thing about Myanmar, I cried every time I left for a new location, not because I was sad to leave the place, but because the people I met were so absolutely wonderful. Myanmar has rich and verdant countryside, world-class sights and monuments, but I believe her most endearing resources lie in the natural sweetness of her people.

———————————————————————————————————

Source: The Expat July 2013

Read more:

• Top 10 Holiday Resorts in Malaysia
• Kuala Lumpur To Taman Negara Road Trip
• A Place Called Pemuteran: Bali’s Laid-Back Gem

What are your thoughts on this article? Let us know by commenting below.No registration needed.