Myanmar, the final: Inle and Home

New skirt + fruit basket

This post is a long time coming, but I got trapped in a whirlwind when I came back from Myanmar, and didn't find the time to finish the blog series.

My trip to Myanmar was three very different experiences with the three different towns.  In Mandalay, I was living the local life, going around with the young man who wanted to show me his town.  In Bagan, it was the backpacking scene, with socializing as the main event.  In Inle, my third destination, I found the introspection.



Inle Lake.

The traditional fisherman.

When I arrived in Inle Lake, I immediately disliked it. It reminded me of a less charming Siem Reap, a very touristy town with a curious mix of people.  Driving through the town, I saw the grit of a dock town, and I was originally unimpressed.  Cue my arrival to my hotel, which was more of a bungalow a la Peace Corps than anything more extravagant.  It was also curiously awkward, almost as if the people there were unaccustomed to receiving visitors.  It was a little place just outside the town, run by a very nice family, with a true absurdity that brought my PC service back to the forefront of my mind.

I might have been chilly.

My room was massive, airy, dark, and the giant bed was covered in plastic (there's dust on these roads).  The water room had the largest possible step to access it, and the clip for the showerhead was broken.  It was odd.  But, then they gave me some fruit to welcome me to the room, a whole basket full.  There was only wifi access in the main "lobby," which also happened to be a large straw bungalow with some furniture and the restaurant room for breakfast.  It was quaint, and what I would guess to be some realistic settings for the environment.  Plus, I had this delightful open area outside my door, where I sat and wrote most of the evenings that I was there.

I took my time in Inle, but eventually made it over to the boats to go out on the lake.  I suited up in my scarf, with my shades, and bought a hat along the way.  It was a fairly standard tour as well, as the boats go to certain stalls and restaurants and shops with their mutual kickback benefit.  But the lake is still functional, still the life of the region.

Pagoda #1 (?) I liked the light.

The most fascinating part of the lake were the fisherman, who have this particular way of steering the boats and moving their bodies.  It appears that this is the mark of Inle, these men who stand on their oars, their leg curved around the wood as they cast their nets into the water.

There were entire communities on the water, houses big and small on stilts, the boats as the only form of transport.  There's an entire ecosystem here, from the food to the trade to the home.  The tourism has, from what I could tell, both a big part and a small part in the life.  The boatsmen who take the tourists around have their little community, with games and food all their own.

Cigar Rolling implements.

Cigar lady.

On the little boat tour, there were several stops.  One to a gold and precious jewel shop, where there was a small workshop.  That stop was next to a home for the long necked Karen women, which was interesting to see (though there are some social responsibility issues that I note with this).  One to an old, empty temple, with just one old man in the entire place.  One to a restaurant.

My favorite stop, though, was to the cigar rolling shop.  There were several women there, rolling the traditional Burmese cigars.  I sat there for some time, chatting with the ladies and watching them work.  The woman trying to explain the process was a young girl, maybe 16, who lived in the house behind the workshop.  The women were delightful, offering me the rice snack that they were eating and giving a cigarello to try.  There was also some talk of bras, where one lady lifted up her shirt to show me her bra shirt, with a secret pocket for money.  I'm not sure how we got there, but the ladies were quite forthcoming.

The men with the golden rock.

Bird seed sellers.

Then a large pagoda, with a golden rock in the middle of it that only men were able to approach and touch with gold.  There was a nice courtyard atmosphere, and there were women there selling food for the birds.  These very old women were working together and yet working for themselves, selling the bird seed for next to nothing.  I bought a bag, then a coconut.

Lotus necklace + Coconut.

Then a small pagoda, near the water garden, all in dark wood.  There were cats there, lined up in the sunshine.  There were Buddhas.  And another boat man made a necklace for me from the stems of the lotus that was thrown into my boat by another boat.

All in all, this was a beautiful and exhausting day in Inle.  Honestly, though, I fell in love with this lake.

On another day in Inle, I decided to explore the caves that were near my hotel.  There's not a lot to do around Inle Lake, besides eat and go on the lake, but this is one of the main attractions.  Somehow, I made it there, despite it being an incredibly hilly and bumpy.

The monk led me deep into the cave, which was cool and pitch black.  The air was still and solemn.  He told me that he meditates there every day, that the black gives him more time to think and more space to pray.  It was a tiny cave, with barely enough space for me to see it, especially considering it is bad news to touch a monk as a female.  It's lucky he had a flashlight.

He had a huge smile, but didn't want to give it up for the camera. 

Nun on the road back. 

I decided to spend the afternoon at the winery, which I think is the only other tourist attraction in the town.  It's a bit of a bike ride out of town, up some hills, and a long long walk to the top.  It was a popular destination, and there were no available tables.  So, I asked to sit down with some people that I had gathered to be American (we're quite loud, as a people).  Sure enough, they were keen on the young visitor to their table, and it turned out that we were in the same profession.  They were teaching in Yangoon, and enjoying the holiday the same that I was.

They were a few bottles in between the three of them, but they reminded me of home.  The kicker, though, is that the woman used to teach at the school that I am going to go teach at.  She loved it, which brings me hope for my future.

Tasting wine before drinking red with the Americans.

Sunset. Taken by a nice Italian man.

A few more places of good food, and a few more interesting interactions were to be had in Inle.  I met a nice man from Spain who I sat with when the restaurant was full.  I ate with a few American girls at the (oh so delicious) place next to our hotel.  One was considering joining the Peace Corps, and the other had lived in Taiwan.  Did I mention that the place next to the hotel was epic with the food on offer?  Wow.  I ran into the woman that I bunked with in Bagan and shared a meal with her as well.

Travel really shrinks the world.

Lovely folks sending me off.

This cat kept me company while I was outside.

And then, Inle was gone.  I spent a little time around the market to see if there was anything that I needed (there rarely is).  But, I did encounter this man selling his ceramics and bought a small candle holder to go with my Buddha.

I got back to Mandalay on the 31st, and decided to spend my time relaxing.  I wasn't feeling well, with a little case of traveler tummy, so even though I was invited to join the festivities downstairs, I chilled instead.  The hotel was very sweet, and provided me with a small bottle of "champagne" and a washcloth set in the shape of a cupcake.  The champagne was dreadful, but the thought was adorably sweet.  And, the washcloth, as a practical gift, still graces my home.

Thanks, Myanmar.  I miss you.