Flyin to Phnom Penh, Cambodia

Hit the Yangon airport with plenty of time to spare. I'm not used to time in airports but I'll tell you there's something to be said of the peace one can afford when not running through security trying to make a flight. 

       (Time to relax outside the airport)

Even gave me time to go back outside and enjoy a special Myanmar cigar (sweet tobacco mixed with pineapple, anise and some other delectable ingredients). 

Small but nice airport with lots of great food, none of it chain stores. It's nice not to see Mikey Ds or Starbucks cluttering a country.

The flight went through Bangkok and had a 5 hour layover before we left for Phnom Penh. 

Got an amazing foot massage (turned into practically a full body) for $7 

            (Unreal. I love Thailand!)

and a fantastic duck & rice lunch with a Thai tea, Yum!

  (Back in Thailand w a zen Micky D) 

  (Time to relax w Frosty and friends!)

 (Cool cuz, Frosty and me in Thai airport)

Everything was absolutely perfect! 

Until I got on the plane and sat down in my seat.

 I don't know what happened but a split second later had me understand (and greatly appreciate) why the barf bags are in the backs of every seat. 

 I filled two of them on my dash to the bathroom. Whew!

 Food poisoning? Bad water? Not sure but after an hour flight I found myself running through the baggage terminal praying I found the bathroom before I introduced myself to the armed Cambodian airport security officials with a less than respectful spew! 

The taxi to the hotel was no better. We shared a car with a French girl (Oreli) we met in Myanmar when she asked me to put a knife, she had forgotten to check, in my checked bag. 

Now we were in a cab heading toward town and I was hanging out the window just in case. 

I barely made it to the hotel lobby before I was running for the bathroom for my third bout. 

Stayed in bed and slept it off last night but today I'm still feeling a bit ify. 

Pete went for a self tour of Phnom Penh without me.  I  stayed in the room & patched my bones as I emailed the engineering team & set up my schedule for the next few days. 

Tomorrow night the students get in around midnight and I have to have a driver and van hired and be prepared to leave for Banlung first thing Tuesday morning. 

It's now been  almost 3 weeks away. So far just freedom and life on my cue. 

With 11 engineering students & 2 other professors arriving for two Cambodian projects in the next 2 weeks it's time to buckle down. 

Outa Burma

Hi guys, I just arrived Phnom Penh. Yesterday was the one day I had  back in Yangon before heading for my work duties in Cambodia. 

The night bus from Inle to Yangon was probably the very best night bus I've ever been on. Leather reclining seats with more room than I've been accustomed to  in the past. 

      (Pleasure in the night us from Inle)

Complementary water. 

Even a Polyanna drawing of sorts where I won a calendar! 

All together not bad for a night bus.  Don't get me wrong, there's really nothing (actually) good about a night bus. The concept; it's supposed to get you to your destination in the middle of the night with time to sleep so you're well rested....(ya right?). 

Then you can roll right into your day and and not waste anytime on travel (u huh?).

 

The idea of it could tend to appear favorable, like time travel one may consider. 

The reality however is a different story all together. 

We arrived at 439am into a bus depo (nothing more than a curb stop on the outskirts of town. Taxis are always available at these makeshift stops, no matter what time of the day/night. And as I've said before it's always worth it to share a cab. 

In this particular case,  I had made friends with Izzy, a 26yo grad student of law in a London based school, before boarding the bus. 

She had been living in Myanmar now for a year. This was her 2nd time and now working within a coop program through an NGO designed around improving land right issues she was fairly fluent in Burmese. 

When we landed at the curb stop in Yangon she was able to negotiate a price with the taxi as Pete and I, comatose, retrieved our bags from the hull of the bus. 

At the last minute however, as I was preparing to toss my shit into the small minivan, Izzy said "no" and waived me away saying that they were "militant Buddhists" and "we're not going with them".  

Oh ya, militant Buddhists, don't think I've talked about that one but there's a story for sure. 

Buddhists are about 4-1 in ratio to the other religious sects here in Myanmar. Christians, Hindus and Muslims make up the majority of the others. 

The Muslims have been historically outcast from the visible culture here. Not so much in the cities like Yangon but in the country sides North, South, East and West of here there is great discontent.  There are actually labor camps where these misplaced ex-citizens of this country are imprisoned/reside. 

It's bad.

 Just last year there were 2 large well known altercations between Buddhists and Muslims where there were hundreds of gorri deaths at the hands of machetes and old school accessable weapons.

 The groups have code #s with the Muslims being identified as # 797 and the Buddhist as # 969.

 Crazy weird I know,  but when Izzy said to walk away it wasn't due to fear. It was to show disapproval with these militant Buddhists MOs.

 As most of you are probably aware, Buddhists have 5 basic laws. One of them is No Killing. So you try to figure it out. Guess it's not any different from all the other religious atrocities in history. Christians, Jews, etc etc. 

 The van had two stickers on the windshield with the codes 969 imprinted. These are what drew her attention after she agreed to a price. 

 She turned to the driver who was preparing the van for us to enter, "no thanks, we don't support 969", she said as I was saying "mingloba (hello) to his co-pilot. 

I cringed, thinking holy shit! 

But the driver just smiled and nodded ok.

 

The 969 minivan was the last taxi there but it didn't take long to flag down another passing "nice Buddhist" cab.

 The cost to get to town, 4,000 kyat (4 bucks) but now 2 bucks each because we share. 

We dropped Izzy first and then onward to the Goldenstar hotel where we had stayed last week and made return reservations.

           (GoldenStar hotel, Yangon)

 It was now only about 6am and when we got to the 4th floor walk-up hotel the doors were still locked so we grabbed seats on the marble steps, connected to the wifi and waited for the kids to open the gates an hour or so later.  

Thankfully there was a room ready when we entered, even though checkin wasn't for hours. 

We fully intended to throw our bags onto the bed and get out into the rustic Yangon neighborhoods for our last jaunt as our flight outa there was in just 24 hours.

 As you'd be guessing, the night bus ordeal quickly slapped us upside the skulls and we were both under the sheets for a catnap within moments of arrival.

When we awoke it was approaching noon. 

Shit! We have plans to meet our monk friend Variswammi at the Buddhist cave near his monastery at noon!!

We called him from the front desk and after he explained he was already there & waiting we threw on some cloths and headed out to begin, what would be, the 2 hour trec to meet him. 

We both knew we were late and didn't want to cause anymore bad karmic vibes between us and Variswammi but street food is a powerful temptation and we found ourselves being drawn to it as we half-ass tried to grab a taxi. 

After 2 fried bananas at one stand, 2 fried Potatoes & a strawberry lassi at another,  a fresh squeezed almond milk (another), and a glass of tea at still another we were in a cab headed to the cave. 

When we arrived it was after 2pm, no sign of our friend. We went in and did a self tour looking everywhere for him. We asked many other monks if they had seen one of there own looking like he was searching for 2 foreigners. 

We gave up hope after an hour and went inside a pagoda to meditate. 

After a half hour in the temple we walked through the market place on the way out.

 Pete met a cute young Burmese girl who took a liking to him and invited us to have some noodles and tea at a table nearby. 

As is the case in many foreign lands people love to learn English and what better way than to connect with 2 adorable white Americans and flirt a little. 

We sat and ordered mohinka. 

That's when I saw him.

 Variswammi, who was looking like a kid that had just lost his puppy was standing over by the curb inspecting every taxi (for our loser asses) that pulled up. 

Feeling horrible, I ran up to him. After an initial look of relief he exhibited a face of what appeared to be (surely out of my own feelings of guilt) anger. 

I hugged him (which in itself is not proper monk edicate ), bought him a cream soda (monks can't eat after noon), said goodbye to the girl (out of respect for Variswammi) and we were off to the cave together this time. 

          (Our friend Variswammi)

It was closed! Holy crap, I think I see that monk anger again (in my guilted mind). Maybe not though, all he  said was  "wanna go see the reclining Buddha?". 

A 3$ taxi across town had us arrive at the biggest reclining Buddha shrine I've ever seen.  

Twice the size of the one in Bangkok.  

             (Reclining Buddha)

Here I met other monks, saw the King of the Dieties (Nat) 

              (King of the Nats)

and met a dude that graduated from Temple architecture school a couple years prior. 

It was dark when we finished and before we all jumped into a taxi together Pete and I had a potato-onion pancake from a street cart (amazing!!!). 

Then we gave monk hugs exchanged facebook accounts and said goodbye to our spiritual friend. 

I think we passed out as we were walking up the stairs to the 'ol GoldenStar because I don't remember anything til the alarm went off at 545am and we were once again mobile and on our way to the airport.

Leaving Inle lake;(

Today we jump a wonderful (oximoron) night bus back to Yangon. 

     (The best night bus I've been on)

         (& still horrible to sleep on!)

It's been over a week since we left the big city. A night train to Mandalay, then an all day boat to Bagan, a night bus to Inle.

         (Our last sunset in Inle Lake) 

  (The approved position one takes in Inle)

                (Random but see?)

 With almost a full week here I am super relaxed and looking forward to getting back to the city for one more full day before our flight to Cambodia and the beginning of my assignment with the Engineers without Borders program I'll be participating in while in Phnom Penh & Banlung, (northern) Cambodia. 

              (The road out of Inle)

In Yangon I expect to reconnect with Varaswammi from the Buddhist monastery and see the cave here or at least have lunch. I wonder if he or the other monks have read the Jack Karouac book I gave him. 

Hopefully I'll receive no repercussions over that one.

Myanmar has been an amazing experience of raw proportion. The old with the new and a clear visible barrier between those in effort to preserve the traditions as others press for rapid change and westerification. 

My advice is to get here as soon as possible and witness the beauty of this place and it's people. 

Like me, it may make you consider how much more complicated we choose to live our lives.

                🎄Merry Christmas! 

Burmese tattoo

I got back to Zodiacs with one thing on my mind. He had already proven to be our biggest asset in Inle and I was wondering if it was possible that he knew a local tat artist who could provide a new needle and bottle of ink. Zodiac is covered in ink and if it was possible to obtain safe shit here in this part of the country he was the one to do it. 

He agreed, made one phone call and had his buddy at the travel shop within the hour with an unopened package containing a bottle of black ink and a new needle. 

How he does it I don't know. I did know however that with today's events, among them, touring Buddhist Temples, researching ancient Buddhist body art and meeting an old school master I would be damned if I wasn't going to do my best to be my word to U Josep. I told him if I found new ink & spikes I would add "Nat" to my collection. 

Nat is a Buddhist spirit who is believed once to have been human and died a violent death (known to Buddhists as a "Green Death"). She is considered a Guardian Angel of sorts and is enlisted to ward off evil. Considered a Goddess of Knowledge she  is very respected in ancient as well as modern Burmese Buddhism. 

When I saw her initially she immediately awoke a sense of familiarity in me. Call it a previous life maybe.

 I initially told the great master U Josep my plan and now the plan seemed to be breeding an outcome. 

As I sat in a chair in my new friends travel agency kiosk located on the dirt road connecting the mountain range to the lake I couldn't help to think how interesting it was that I am here. 

Myanmar (previously British Burma), a land that has been repressed for hundreds of years by both foreign powers and their own military regimes. 

A beautiful land filled with Temples worshiping an enlightened man, Siddhartha Gautama. Amongst his many Devine characteristics, Buddha's incredible resilience, his pain over seeing human suffering spawned his commitment to enlightenment, as well as peace for all. 

My mind swirled around thoughts of Kings and politicians who have traveled these same roads and historically done as they want as self absorbed Nobles. All of them human and as human abusing human rights within the  move upward. 

Many used the Buddhist flag to level the karmatic field. 

By building another pagoda, another shrine to represent a good side some noble Buddhist believe they make up for all the evil they displayed in their quest for upward mobility. 

I became attuned to all these thoughts as a modern Burmese Buddhist free handed a symbol of his native culture on my arm with a ballpoint pen. In just a few moments he was to puncture my skin with a mark that would represent (to me at least) all I am thinking and all that has come before me in this beautiful land. 

I sit in the chair next to Zodiac's desk as the first foreigner (& most likely first human) to ever get a tattoo in this spot. 

People wandering by as the process begins, catching a glimpse of what is happening. 

The crowd growing as my artist gets close to finishing his drawing straight to my skin with no picture to refer to except what is in his mind from his many years of study provided during his upbringing as a Buddhist.

He lifts his head and I get a look at his rendition. It's a perfect match to what I saw in U Josep's texts earlier in the day. Amazing freehand! 

Now it's time for the fun stuff.

 Make it stick;)!

                     (Tattoo pen)

He pulled out the old school kit, fitted the new needle, dipped into the fresh ink and  cemented the rendering into my skin. 

Actually, straight through the ballpoint ink drawing.

 For a slight second I considered it to be a less than sanitary method,  given that no alcohol or cleaning agent was used on either the skin or the needle and now this ballpoint ink was being driven into my bloodstream along with the bottled stuff.

  I quickly accepted the process and enjoyed the sweet pain a tattoo always seems to provide. 

I watched the entire process. Barely took my eyes off of the needle. Not normal for me as I'm super squeamish about needles (I've passed out giving blood,(more than once)). It turns out the lighting in Zodiac's shop is made to provide for the sale of bus tickets and not quite sophisticated enough for the critical eye of an artist. 

Just so happens that I was wearing my new ski cap equipped with a halogen headlamp. If I looked up I feared a disruption in the linear functionality of my piece. 

Having eyes on also gave me the opportunity to orchestrate the process by assuring the lines were thin to my liking and he was moving quick enough to prevent future bleed out of the ink. 

When he was done he took some "London" TP with a little water from a plastic bottle and wiped it down. 

"That's it?", I said, as he looked at me with question in his eyes, "No alcohol or cleanser?". He waved me off with a "no!" and again I accepted the motion. 

I'm easy like Sunday morning;).

Hopefully Sunday morning I'm not in an emergency room in Bangkok with a blood disease! 

              (My artist and possie!)

                        (Zodiac)

After a bunch of High Fives, a few toasts of the many Myanmar beers by now flowing through the busy travel agency turned tattoo parlor and a few pictures with the players I was off to buy a pint of Whisky to pour over it and kill any infection before it had a chance to set in. 

All & all a good day in Inle Lake, Burma. A place I'm not likely to forget!

                       "Nat" on Pat!

Christmas Day

Day 5 in Inle. Other than eating, all we did today was a long walk out of town. Stopping to play a street soccer type of game that closely resembles hack n sac with a group of guys. 

Then checking out a hotel building project 

   (Drilling pilings with simple equipment)

along the river. More and more of these expansion projects are popping up around this area. The government most likely has a chip in the game but I was told by someone here that private foreign investment is making a bigger play here now than ever before. We may not recognize this place by the time we make it back. 

On our way  we stopped to get a massage from a local family on the outskirts of town. The name? Family Massage;)! A mother and daughter don't the massages while the rest of the family sit outside and relax with neighbors. 

The massage was similar to the other, traditional Burmese style with coconut oil. The difference was it was in a back neighborhood in a really sweet stilted wicker hut on a canal. Just blankets lined the massage area on the floor and the sounds of dogs barking & children playing outside gave a peacefulness I hadn't experienced in a massage until now.

After a 20 minute walk back to town

we were in bed and watching a movie by 8. 

Very nice & mellow way to spend a Christmas Day indeed! 

Christmas Eve in Inle

Merry Chrismas!

Slept in but got to call Mom before wifi went out (again). 

(The king's Palace(now Museum) across from our hotel)

Nyaung Shwe  is a town that borders the north edge of the lake and is surrounded by mountains. 

                      (Map of Inle)

   (Coolest wicker Buddha I've ever seen)

                      (In the palace)

The idea that we have any wifi connection in itself is remarkable.

Directly across the street from our Hotel is the Palace grounds of the ruling family of this region. We took a self guided tour ($3) and glad about it. 

Other than that a mellow day of wandering. 

Had Shan noodle soup at Linnhtet (my favorite soup place in town) and an amazing tea leaf salad.

 After a stop at Zodiac's to procure our night bus tix to Yangon on the 26th we found a color printer to print our Cambodian visas (we bought them on line) on sticky paper so we could stick them into our passport books. The cost for 2 copies each, $ .40 total and not a bad deal. 

We booked a massage at 420 pm on the way back to pay for our bus tickets at Zodiac's. We tried numerous times to set the appointment for 430 but they kept forcing us to 420, seriously;). We accepted after we noticed we weren't gonna change her mind. 

I think we will order a duck for Christmas dinner tomorrow night. Let's see how that goes.

 There are a number of places along the street where it looks possible. 

Today all & all just a pleasant relaxing experience. It's nice to kick back and relax a bit and Nyaung Shwe (or Shwenyaung as the locals call it) is the chillest place we've been yet.

.........

5:30 pm- Just came out of an hour long massage at the Butterfly Cafe/Massage studio. Cool Cuz & me in a thatched hut, on the floor, side by side on blankets.  I know that's a little far apart compared to our sleeping arraingments of yet but hey,  we just needed a little space! 

This was my first massage since I got to Myranmar and a nice full body with oil, priceless! And it cost 8,000 kyat (8 bucks)! 

 Butterfly's' a super nice place and as usual, the people are always smiles and kindness.

It's dark now and I'm feeling tired and relaxed. A glass of Lassi on the way home and another early to bed night!

                   (Butterfly's menu)

Day 3 Inle lake,Myanmar

Last night Cool Cuz ran into an old friend of ours, Sho from Japan. We had originally met in Bangkok almost two weeks ago. He has been traveling with a couple from Israel since we left in Yangon a week or so ago. It's funny how travelers always seem to reconnect. It's something you notice after being on the move a lot. 

Cool cuz & I had our hotel breakfast on the roof deck of the "Remember" it was a good one today.

This morning was a bit chilly so we went to the inside dining area (I hadn't known to this point existed) and realized they have other items on the menu than Shan or fish noodle soup. 

I had a veggi omelet and a banana pancake! Wow. What a start to a day!

After breakfast we met Sho & our new Israeli friends downstairs. With a short walk to the docks we found ourselves on a private boat taxi enroute to the lake.

Cool and I had done a mini tour a couple days ago when we first landed but today would be different. Today was an all day tour and would include market hopping as well as a view of the sunset passing over the west mountain range on the way home. 

Initially the same beautiful sites on the way out. 

The fishermen were still out doing their thing. 

We stopped and hung a bit but the girl in the group wanted to shop. Me, I'm not a big shopper but being a lover of people (and crowds), I figured, "take me to the market". 

Unlike the previous day's boat trip, we cruised into the inner waterways and found ourselves at a village town with a floating market. 

On entering the floating market I immediately saw a table with traditional tattoo pens. These are heavily ornamented hollow steel and brass sticks  with anywhere from 1-12 fine steel needle ends. The ones I saw on the table were 2 & 3 needle tips.

 I got into a conversation with the local vendor and turns out he is the nephew of the village's elder and traditional Tat teacher. He spoke very little English but by his body language I was able to decipher enough to allow him to lead me  through this vast market place with what I believed (or at least hoped) would end in a visit with his grandpop.

                     (River market)

 Down river streets filled with vendors, across a couple bridges, past tons of Pagodas, 

      (View from U Josep's back deck)

a journey of 15 minutes or more. I was beginning to consider that there were 5 others in our boat who may be wondering where I disappeared to on our first stop in a river town I had never been but the excitement of meeting a Burmese tattoo master had convinced me to be selfish and I followed my new market tour guide at rapid pace toe to heal. When we finally arrived he ran into the beautiful stilted river bed home and disappeared as he motioned to me to hang tight. Moments later he reappeared, motioned that he had to get back to his kiosk table in the market, told me to take off my shoes and go in. I had no idea where I was. 

            ( U Josep's front door)

There were certainly no tourists walking around back in this section of the village and I had no idea how long it would be before my boat captain or the others would be leaving.

           (Back of U Josep's home)

 So I went in, of course! The house was gorgeous. A big open room with a small TV, a dining room table with fresh oranges in a bowl and an open kitchen in the rear with an old woman standing in the doorway staring at me surprised to see a white dude with no shoes in her living room.  

Without a word she simply pointed to the amazing wooden staircase and motioned me upstairs.

 I gotta admit I was caught up in the moment forgetting where I was and I followed her prompt upward. 

At the top of the stairs I heard speaking in the room ahead of me.

 I entered to find an old man sitting in lotus on the floor in front if the Buddha shrine showing a younger man a book. As I entered I was greeted with a nod and smile. The old man, who I assumed was grandpop waved me in and motioned to sit.

 I immediately knelt in front of the shrine and bowed traditionally to Buddha (3xs), turned to the two others and sat in lotus position next to them. 

They must have been impressed that I honored Buddha as I came in because they seemed delighted by my attempt to do it properly (I'm sure I didn't). 

The old woman from downstairs appeared with 3 cups of tea and left without a look at me. 

The old man was indeed the grandfather & 4th generation Burmese tattoo artist and village tat teacher. Here, it's not just skin art. A tattoo is a symbol of the connection we have to the spirit world. 

A traditional method of tapping the spiked spear into the skin after being dipped into a capful of a mixture that I thought was ink on first (& 2nd.. ) glance. 

The word "Tattoo" originated from "Ta tap" which means to tap, signifying the motion that is used to drive the ink needle tips into the skin leaving a design based on the chosen direction of the master (in this case U josep, Grampa). 

U josep could speak zero English so nods, grunts & smiles were how we communicated along with a few English words from his young student which helped me understand essentially the jist of what was to happen. 

Apparently before he left,  my unofficial tour guide (U Josep's nephew) told him I was coming in for a tat. After I realized what the intent was I did my best to explain that I'm an American on a boat taxi tour (with 5 other people) who just happened to stop by and meet his nephew, liked the tat pens and found myself here drinking tea with him, the master. 

Nothing was actually understood and the meeting progressed I to a tatfest. I ran downstairs to pee and stuck my head out into the market to see if I saw anyone from my group. 

Miraculously I saw the Isreali couple walking away from the direction of the boat. I took that as a safe cue to get more master time. Upon my return upstairs the Master had the inks and the pen out to start my tat. 

Common sense prevailed and I explained that I didn't trust the ink or needles and didn't want to get a virus with a dirty needly or contaminated ink. All that was interpritated by the young monk as "this no ink", "it fish heart". 

"Oh", I said in irrational amazement.

"No, no me need clean needle, but you get one and show me how it's done ok?" I responded. 

This he understood and U J smiled an agreement as the young monk lifted his sleeve and the tattin began. 

          (A traditional Burmese tattoo)

It was amazing to be present to witness this. I have video of the whole thing but not sure I can do anything more than pics  with this equipment. 

      ( U Josep, me and fish heart ink)

While I was there I chose an image of a Buddhist Human/Spirit figure out of the masters 300 year old, leather bound design book for a future date and installation on me (after I locate new needles and safe ink of course). 

All of a sudden I realized I had been there too long and thanked them all profusely as I ran down the stairs, grabbed my shoes and ripped through the market, hoping my boat and group hadn't left me behind. I knew if they hadn't they'd probably be pissed but shit what an experience!

I made it back in time but not without a lashing from the Israeli chick. I bought her a bouquet of flowers from an old woman in vendor canoe bumping against our boat as we were leaving and considered the $0.30 they cost me to be appropriate Buddhist penance for my self centered deed. 

We boated away to our next experience.

The rest of the day included a paper making factory,

A cigar making (and smoking) joint, 

A loom/textile factory,

A traditional teak canoe building shop & 

Tons of cool temples

Cool and I even headed back into the canal at one stop and helped the locals build a stilted house. 

By this time we (Cool & me) were having the time of our lives (honestly not even drinkin, just pure adrenaline and joy of being here) and the couple in our boat were not lovin us. 

Shit, she hated boats and was petrified of water apparently! This came as a total surprise to me and only came up as she hollered to me to sit down in the canoe when I tried I shared a cigar with our captain in the back of our vessel, who looked like he could really use a smoke. 

In any respect I could respect the fear factor and behaved on the way back to the open water where we were to stop and enjoy our 2nd lake sunset of the week. 

That is until we stopped to view the incoming backdrop. Turns out our captain has seen the sunset more times than even I and took no care to provide a boat position that was adequate of a first time lake viewer (our couple) boat mates.

Respectfully, I stood up and hopped back to our captain with the grace of a drunk kitten, grabbed his wooden orr and rowed the canoe into a perfect vantage point view for our boat mates. 

She freaked but soon enjoyed the repositioning and stopped squealing. 

We (even her) made it back to port fully in tact. We bid farewell to the lovely couple and headed to zodiacs (as usual).