In Shwebo on the morning of the 30th, I relaxed in my room after two long days of travel, ate a late breakfast, and made it to the bus station about 11. At noon I left on a bus headed southwest to Monywa on the Chindwin River, the Irrawaddy's biggest tributary. The 65 mile journey took over three hours, in part because we stopped at a rice mill, where we all got out of the bus so big bags of rice could be loaded under the seats and in the aisle of the bus. I took the opportunity to explore the mill, as nobody said I couldn't. Inside big machines were husking the rice. A big pile of unhusked rice stood in one corner, with stacks of big white bags of husked rice all around.
We also passed lots of rice fields on the first part of the journey, some already harvested. The latter part of the journey, however, passed through more uncultivated land, almost scrub.
After arrival in Monywa, a city of almost 200,000 people, I walked along the wide Chindwin, with beautiful large rain trees along the raised river bank, affording lots of shade. Scores of boats were on the river or docked on the riverbank. People were friendly and a few old men greeted me in English. One walked along with me to the end of the tree-lined portion of the riverbank. He told me he walks this route, maybe a mile, every day, for his exercise. Some old buildings stood on the other side of the river road, and almost all the buildings looked fairly dilapidated. I watched the ferry crossings, with many people crowded into little boats. Two small hills stand on the other side of the river. Sunset was at about 5:20, into the clouds just above the horizon on the other side of the river.
The next morning I walked to the river front again. I hoped to take the ferry across, and then a motorcycle taxi 23 miles west to Hpo Win Daung, a complex of 492 Buddha chambers carved into limestone hills from the 14th to 18th centuries. But the ferry fare for foreigners is 2500 kyat, versus 200 for locals, and I was told that on the other side I wouldn't be able to take a motorcycle taxi, but only a bigger vehicle for 20,000 kyat return. However, a motorcycle taxi guy offered to take me on a longer route for 12,000 kyat total, so I agreed. On his motorcycle we headed north to a long bridge over the Chindwin, crossed it, and then headed southwest towards the caves, a trip of 32 miles over almost an hour and a half. There wasn't much traffic and the roads are fairly good. The terrain was flat until we reached the hills at the end. Along the way there were many patches of brightly colored sunflowers. I didn't see any rice, but there were vegetable patches here and there, and lots of trees, including palmyra palms. Near the hills we passed a huge open pit copper mine, all fenced in, with guard posts.
I spent about three hours wandering through the interesting caves, all man made and most very shallow. Some had wonderful murals. All through the site wandered mean looking macaque monkeys, with particularly red butts and groins. They could be aggressive at times, too.
Back in town in the late afternoon, I wandered around, visiting a big new pagoda, very golden. Near the entrance vendors were roasting corn on the cob and some sort of brown root. Big bundles of those long, thin roots lay all around. I watched another woman grease a sort of griddle and then sift rice flour onto it. As it formed a sort of thin pancake, she added shredded coconut and sugar and then wrapped it all up. I bought a couple of them at 100 kyat (10 cents) apiece and they were crispy and delicious.
I spent most of the next morning in an internet cafe, a rare sight in the parts of Burma I have been traveling in this year. After a good Burmese lunch of about ten dishes and two soups at a simple restaurant, costing all of 2300 kyat, I took a motorcycle taxi about ten miles south and then east to a colorful Buddhist pagoda called Thanboddhay Paya and spent maybe half an hour there looking around. Then we went a further five miles east to Bodhi Tataung, reputed to be the world's highest standing Buddha, 424 feet tall, made of steel and concrete. Right in front of it is a big reclining Buddha.
You can climb inside the big standing Buddha and I did so, ascending 27 stories until just below his head. There are about 16-20 stairs per floor, so about 500 steps in all. The lower floors are decorated with wonderfully gruesome scenes of hell, while upper stories have much less interesting scenes of heaven. The steel girders that hold up the Buddha can be seen inside. Small windows are on each floor, but are dirty and, with the late afternoon glare, it was hard to see to the west, the direction the Buddha faces. Still, I could make out parts of the Chindwin.
About 5 we headed back to town, getting there before dark. The tree shaded rural road near the giant Buddha was particularly nice at dusk, with lots of vegetable gardens en route. We stopped once so my driver could buy a liter of gasoline, sold in a recycled water bottle for 1000 kyat a liter. At service stations gas seems to sell for about 875 a liter, but roadside vendors sporting a row of water or liquor bottles full of gas are much more frequently sighted than service stations. I also had him stop at an ATM at a bank. ATMs seem to have sprouted almost everywhere. I saw them also in Myitkyina and Bhamo. I brought lots of clean, crisp American currency but have had to use it only for the flight from Bhamo to Myitkyina.
The next morning at 9 I left on a bus south for Pakokku, a three hour trip. Pakokku is on the Irrawaddy, just upriver and on the opposite bank from Bagan. A big new bridge, the longest in Burma, now links the two. On the way, we crossed the Chindwin via another long bridge. The Chindwin flows into the Irrawaddy between Monywa and Pakokku. The very full bus passed mostly through scrub land, with some vegetable patches, but no rice fields that I saw.
In Pakokku I checked into a rundown guest house right on the river, but now a backwater channel of the Irrawaddy, run by a grandmother named Mya Mya and her four granddaughters. One of her granddaughters helped me buy a ticket for the next day's bus west to Mindat in Chin State. I wandered through the very busy and interesting market to a restaurant for lunch. On the way back I watched a woman pouring a watery dough into a sort of griddle made up of many little half circles. They fry up into tasty little treats, and I've had them elsewhere. This woman added tiny quail eggs into the cooking dough, frying them inside the dough. I ate several and they were delicious. I've eaten lots of hard boiled quail eggs in Burma, but these were the first fried, and fried in that sweet, crispy dough.
I wandered again through the fascinating market and then along the town's dusty streets. I found some derelict stupas in a monastery and later walked to the river, very low and shallow here, with the main channel now further east.
I returned to the guest house about 4 and spent the rest of the afternoon talking to a 72 year old German traveler and Mya Mya. She was very interesting, telling me she was born in Myitkyina during World War II and later married, an arranged marriage, to a man, now deceased, from Pakokku. She said that during the war a Japanese soldier gave her mother milk powder for her, because she reminded him of his own daughter. She told me she had some Chinese and Shan ancestors, along with Burmese, and that she has now lived in Pakokku for 40 years.
She speaks very good English, having spent five years in a convent school in Maymyo (now Pwin Oo Lwin) after her father died (in the army, apparently fighting against one of Burma's many minority groups) and her mother remarried. She told me she first started taking tourists into her hundred year old home in 1980. Then tourists were allowed only seven days in the country. Most would take the train from Rangoon to Mandalay, then a boat down the Irrawaddy to Bagan, and then a train or bus back to Rangoon.
She said the boat from Mandalay would arrive in Pakokku in the evening and spend the night there. Some tourists didn't want to sleep on the boat, so she started a guest house and a restaurant for them. She would have to wake them early to make sure they got back on the boat to Bagan, which left early. She told me back then she charged five kyat per night (I paid 9000), but that the exchange rate was 13 to the dollar (now it is over 1000). She also said that back then tourists could bring in a cartoon of cigarettes and a bottle of liquor, sell those once they arrived, and the proceeds would pay for their expenses during their seven days in Burma. She was a very nice woman, a joy to talk to.
We also passed lots of rice fields on the first part of the journey, some already harvested. The latter part of the journey, however, passed through more uncultivated land, almost scrub.
After arrival in Monywa, a city of almost 200,000 people, I walked along the wide Chindwin, with beautiful large rain trees along the raised river bank, affording lots of shade. Scores of boats were on the river or docked on the riverbank. People were friendly and a few old men greeted me in English. One walked along with me to the end of the tree-lined portion of the riverbank. He told me he walks this route, maybe a mile, every day, for his exercise. Some old buildings stood on the other side of the river road, and almost all the buildings looked fairly dilapidated. I watched the ferry crossings, with many people crowded into little boats. Two small hills stand on the other side of the river. Sunset was at about 5:20, into the clouds just above the horizon on the other side of the river.
The next morning I walked to the river front again. I hoped to take the ferry across, and then a motorcycle taxi 23 miles west to Hpo Win Daung, a complex of 492 Buddha chambers carved into limestone hills from the 14th to 18th centuries. But the ferry fare for foreigners is 2500 kyat, versus 200 for locals, and I was told that on the other side I wouldn't be able to take a motorcycle taxi, but only a bigger vehicle for 20,000 kyat return. However, a motorcycle taxi guy offered to take me on a longer route for 12,000 kyat total, so I agreed. On his motorcycle we headed north to a long bridge over the Chindwin, crossed it, and then headed southwest towards the caves, a trip of 32 miles over almost an hour and a half. There wasn't much traffic and the roads are fairly good. The terrain was flat until we reached the hills at the end. Along the way there were many patches of brightly colored sunflowers. I didn't see any rice, but there were vegetable patches here and there, and lots of trees, including palmyra palms. Near the hills we passed a huge open pit copper mine, all fenced in, with guard posts.
I spent about three hours wandering through the interesting caves, all man made and most very shallow. Some had wonderful murals. All through the site wandered mean looking macaque monkeys, with particularly red butts and groins. They could be aggressive at times, too.
Back in town in the late afternoon, I wandered around, visiting a big new pagoda, very golden. Near the entrance vendors were roasting corn on the cob and some sort of brown root. Big bundles of those long, thin roots lay all around. I watched another woman grease a sort of griddle and then sift rice flour onto it. As it formed a sort of thin pancake, she added shredded coconut and sugar and then wrapped it all up. I bought a couple of them at 100 kyat (10 cents) apiece and they were crispy and delicious.
I spent most of the next morning in an internet cafe, a rare sight in the parts of Burma I have been traveling in this year. After a good Burmese lunch of about ten dishes and two soups at a simple restaurant, costing all of 2300 kyat, I took a motorcycle taxi about ten miles south and then east to a colorful Buddhist pagoda called Thanboddhay Paya and spent maybe half an hour there looking around. Then we went a further five miles east to Bodhi Tataung, reputed to be the world's highest standing Buddha, 424 feet tall, made of steel and concrete. Right in front of it is a big reclining Buddha.
You can climb inside the big standing Buddha and I did so, ascending 27 stories until just below his head. There are about 16-20 stairs per floor, so about 500 steps in all. The lower floors are decorated with wonderfully gruesome scenes of hell, while upper stories have much less interesting scenes of heaven. The steel girders that hold up the Buddha can be seen inside. Small windows are on each floor, but are dirty and, with the late afternoon glare, it was hard to see to the west, the direction the Buddha faces. Still, I could make out parts of the Chindwin.
About 5 we headed back to town, getting there before dark. The tree shaded rural road near the giant Buddha was particularly nice at dusk, with lots of vegetable gardens en route. We stopped once so my driver could buy a liter of gasoline, sold in a recycled water bottle for 1000 kyat a liter. At service stations gas seems to sell for about 875 a liter, but roadside vendors sporting a row of water or liquor bottles full of gas are much more frequently sighted than service stations. I also had him stop at an ATM at a bank. ATMs seem to have sprouted almost everywhere. I saw them also in Myitkyina and Bhamo. I brought lots of clean, crisp American currency but have had to use it only for the flight from Bhamo to Myitkyina.
The next morning at 9 I left on a bus south for Pakokku, a three hour trip. Pakokku is on the Irrawaddy, just upriver and on the opposite bank from Bagan. A big new bridge, the longest in Burma, now links the two. On the way, we crossed the Chindwin via another long bridge. The Chindwin flows into the Irrawaddy between Monywa and Pakokku. The very full bus passed mostly through scrub land, with some vegetable patches, but no rice fields that I saw.
In Pakokku I checked into a rundown guest house right on the river, but now a backwater channel of the Irrawaddy, run by a grandmother named Mya Mya and her four granddaughters. One of her granddaughters helped me buy a ticket for the next day's bus west to Mindat in Chin State. I wandered through the very busy and interesting market to a restaurant for lunch. On the way back I watched a woman pouring a watery dough into a sort of griddle made up of many little half circles. They fry up into tasty little treats, and I've had them elsewhere. This woman added tiny quail eggs into the cooking dough, frying them inside the dough. I ate several and they were delicious. I've eaten lots of hard boiled quail eggs in Burma, but these were the first fried, and fried in that sweet, crispy dough.
I wandered again through the fascinating market and then along the town's dusty streets. I found some derelict stupas in a monastery and later walked to the river, very low and shallow here, with the main channel now further east.
I returned to the guest house about 4 and spent the rest of the afternoon talking to a 72 year old German traveler and Mya Mya. She was very interesting, telling me she was born in Myitkyina during World War II and later married, an arranged marriage, to a man, now deceased, from Pakokku. She said that during the war a Japanese soldier gave her mother milk powder for her, because she reminded him of his own daughter. She told me she had some Chinese and Shan ancestors, along with Burmese, and that she has now lived in Pakokku for 40 years.
She speaks very good English, having spent five years in a convent school in Maymyo (now Pwin Oo Lwin) after her father died (in the army, apparently fighting against one of Burma's many minority groups) and her mother remarried. She told me she first started taking tourists into her hundred year old home in 1980. Then tourists were allowed only seven days in the country. Most would take the train from Rangoon to Mandalay, then a boat down the Irrawaddy to Bagan, and then a train or bus back to Rangoon.
She said the boat from Mandalay would arrive in Pakokku in the evening and spend the night there. Some tourists didn't want to sleep on the boat, so she started a guest house and a restaurant for them. She would have to wake them early to make sure they got back on the boat to Bagan, which left early. She told me back then she charged five kyat per night (I paid 9000), but that the exchange rate was 13 to the dollar (now it is over 1000). She also said that back then tourists could bring in a cartoon of cigarettes and a bottle of liquor, sell those once they arrived, and the proceeds would pay for their expenses during their seven days in Burma. She was a very nice woman, a joy to talk to.
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