April 23-29: Yangon & Kalaw, Myanmar (Burma)

Within minutes of landing in Myanmar, or Burma as it's better known, you immediately get the sense that this country is different from anywhere else in Southeast Asia. While the rest of the continent is racing into the 21st century, Burma feels stuck in the 1950s. Electricity in Yangon the capital (Rangoon back in the day) is off as much as it is on, and in other towns they're lucky to get 2 or 3 hours a day. Ice is manually shaved in the streets from big blocks, toast is made on wire mesh over coals, there is no credit card network or ATMs, and the most common car on the streets is a World War II era British jeep. Outside of every building in Yangon is a noisy generator keeping the fans running to deal with the 100F degree heat of April, the cruelest Burmese month. The poverty in Yangon is unmatched by anything I've seen besides maybe Delhi.

This situation and blame are perfectly clear. The military junta dictatorship has run the most corrupt government in the region for decades. The manufactured disparity and control is evident everywhere and the Burmese are eager to talk about once you are away from prying ears in the confines of their homes or car or alone on a trail. There is widespread belief that all post and phone conversations can be intercepted. The mobile phone chips that are required to operate on Burmese networks cost US $2000 while the average Burmese income is under US $200 annually, making it impossible for anyone outside of the government to use them. There are two television channels and two newspapers, both government run. The tax on cars is such that even if I was to give a Burmese a car for free, the taxes would be over US $10,000. Restrictions on international travel make it nearly impossible to leave the country without a significant bribe, and within the country foreigners like us, are only permitted to visit a handful of areas. Internet availability is spreading through the country, but many politically sensitive websites are blocked including blogger, the host of this website. (This post is seeing light post-facto from China - ironic, yes)

This is probably not news to many of you as Western countries are attempting to shed light on the situation through embargos and UN resolutions. (Though because of the 'special' relationship with China, these are for the most part futile.) What we have been consistently amazed by in our short time in this country, however, is not only the gentleness, warmth, and generosity of the Burmese, but also their incredible resourcefulness and self-sufficiency. Faced with taxes that return absolutely nothing to the people they are forced to create their own systems. When the government commandeers a water reserve, the monastery on the hill digs a well. With promises of power never realized, local villages pool money to build a hydro-electric power source (which provides power only for the 3 months of the rainy season). In the mountain town of Kalaw, the local bar (where a glass of whisky is 20 cents, there's always a troubadour belting out 80s ballads set to Burmese lyrics, and where a great time is guaranteed) collects donations for the poorest at the hospital. Throughout our travels we've witnessed the poor taking care of the very poor, but this is magnified here.

I don't mean to make it sound like we're not enjoying ourselves here. First of all the mangos are in season and they're the deliciously sweet Indian variety I remember from my childhood. Much better than the fried crickets. And the Shwedagon complex in Yangon with its 82 golden pagodas is a really atmospheric place to wander around barefoot as the sun is setting.

We also just got back from one of our best trips all year, a two day trek through the mountains of the Shan state near Kalaw, visiting Pao and Danu tribal villages along the way. We spent the night with an incredibly generous Pao family. The two daughters had just got back from selling fried sweet rice at a fireworks festival in a neighboring village. The festival involves each village putting together a massive homemade rocket that they try and shoot at a goal in the distance. We joined them on the second day of the festival the following morning. The mother cooked us the best food we've had in Burma yet, all over an indoor wood fire.

The anachronistic state of affairs also leads to some really comic situations. The money for example. Because there are no ATMs you have to bring in all the money you'll need for your time here in cash and exchange it in the black market as the official exchange rate is less than half what is widely available. More specifically you have to bring brand new, crisp hundred dollar US bills void of any creases, blemishes or nicks. In return for one of those bills you get a thick stack of the foulest, most torn-up currency you've ever seen. (The largest bill is worth about 90 cents.) There's also the strange state of cars. We sometimes joke that we're on the left-handed driving tour of the world, but Burma is the first place we've been where they drive on the right, but the driver is also on the right! This is because most of the cars are left over from British colonial times when the driving was on the left. So, in practice this means that every taxi/bus driver has a guy riding with him in shotgun, to tell him if he can pass or not.

Tomorrow we head to Inlay Lake, where the bus ride will be another adventure of continuous honking and Burmese soap operas played at deafening volumes. Fortunately, it's only three hours away. Much like how it takes two hours to get between any two points in New Hampshire, it takes 15 hours to get anywhere in Burma, Inlay Lake the one exception. Thankfully.