I know we're only through January, and that I've only just finished telling you all about my New Year's holiday, but it has to be said - 2013 is going to be my year!
So far, despite a few stresses along the way, everything has been going right for me! 2012 was a test (that's for sure) but 2013 is shaping up to be epic. And there's so much on the horizon! From Naked Man Festival in a couple of weeks (google it, just not at work!) and a 5-day girls trip to Tokyo, to a trip home in March and a week later ringside seats at the Sumo Grand Tournament of Osaka. Life in the inaka (Japanese countryside) couldn't be more full-on at the moment. And truthfully, finally, I'm actually enjoying every minute of it. Stay tuned for all the crazy stories (and pictures to boot) as soon as events unfold...
Thursday, 31 January 2013
Monday, 28 January 2013
Australia Day and Burns Supper 2013
Like last year, this year I also decided to throw a large Australia Day bash at my apartment. Once again, I made preparations (6 months saving those bottles of Bundaberg Rum) and threw open the doors of my bitchin' Awa pad to welcome in 40+ guests and celebrate my home country. We feasted on kangaroo skewers and Aussie beef rump steaks. We drank Jacobs Creek wine and Bundy rum. We listened to a playlist of Aussie music and donned the obligatory green and gold zinc stripes across our cheeks. We ate, drank, danced, talked, kept my neighbours awake late and generally just partied in true blue Aussie fashion!
Representing with fellow Aussie gal, Holly.
Me and Maiko causing shenanigans in the kitchen.
After the Australian stickers came out, with Liz and Todd (who was disappointingly America-representing in a Bulls shirt).
The next day, I woke up to an apartment strewn with people. One by one we roused and after the boys went on a mission to get Maccas for breakfast we all sat about in the lounge watching films and just generally talking nonsense. In the afternoon we headed on down to my local supermarket to gather supplies for that night's Burns Supper (if you remember, a poetry party in a cabin far out west) and came back to make a mess of my apartment preparing plates to share. Dinner made, we all piled into a couple of cars and drove the one-hour west to the cabins we'd rented where we met the 30 or so other people in attendance and got the second party of the weekend started.
First up was dinner and everyone piled into the big cabin to share a meal together. After the feed we settle down to read some poetry together and just generally drink ourselves into entertainment. It might have been snowing outside, but the atmosphere in the cabin was cosy and festive. Carrying on the Australia Day theme (Burns Supper actually fell on Australia Day proper this year) I read a poem from my favourite Aussie author, Gwen Harwood, while others chose to play instruments, sing songs or recite their own obscure and favourite literature. It was a late and at times, messy night, but fun was had by all.
Kagawan JET, Matt, taking to the stage.
Tyler and Alex did a very funny little comedy number.
Julie's presentation on "how to pick up Japanese boys" was hilarious.
Zach and I got up onstage (again) for a live knitting lesson and demonstration.
The talented Canadian Colin decided to play us a musical number on his guitar.
Simon and John watch on in awe.
Ayumi, Hannah and Saad.
Wednesday, 23 January 2013
Surviving a Japanese Winter
Let it be said: I hate winter. With a passion. I hate the cold. I hate the rain. I hate the wind. I even now hate the snow. I hate getting out of bed when the ambient temperature in my apartment is hovering around 2 degrees Celsius and hate going out to my car only to find the windscreen frosted over with ice which will need scraping off before I can go anywhere. I hate putting on 17 layers of clothing just to keep warm and I hate being made to run around the oval every Tuesday/Thursday morning in an effort to warm-up in lieu of indoor heating. I hate the fact that it gets dark early and I hate arriving home after the sun has set after a long day at school. I hate not seeing the sun and feeling its warmth on my skin. I hate the way Japanese houses have no insulation and the way that Japanese teachers insist on opening windows around the school on the assumption that it's colder indoors than outdoors at any given hour of the day. To re-iterate: I hate winter.
To be fair, I don't usually hate winter this much in Australia and I didn't hate it as much last year. It's just that last year's winter - my first in Japan - was such a rude awakening that I had a really awful time and it's scarred me for Japanese Winter # 2. Last year, for example, I can recall being so ridiculously excited about seeing it snow for the first time. I was hanging out, biding my time, counting down until the day that the temperature would fall low enough for it to snow. I remember being giddy at the first sight of snow on the mountain-tops across from my apartment, jumping around outside with joy during my first snowstorm and taking pictures of the snow on everything (snowy branches, snowy cars, snowy playground equipment, snowy roads, snowy fields, snowy roofs etc) - I couldn't get enough!
But now I'm over it. Snow was cool at first but now I'm done with it. After all, I'm an Aussie girl from the hot side of Oz. I'm not built for the cold, I was born into the heat. I belong on the beach, not huddled under 4 blankets with the heater cranked up as high as it will go. And as undecided as I am about where fate shall take me once I finish with the JET Programme, I know that chasing summer across the globe sounds like the best idea so far!
To be fair, I don't usually hate winter this much in Australia and I didn't hate it as much last year. It's just that last year's winter - my first in Japan - was such a rude awakening that I had a really awful time and it's scarred me for Japanese Winter # 2. Last year, for example, I can recall being so ridiculously excited about seeing it snow for the first time. I was hanging out, biding my time, counting down until the day that the temperature would fall low enough for it to snow. I remember being giddy at the first sight of snow on the mountain-tops across from my apartment, jumping around outside with joy during my first snowstorm and taking pictures of the snow on everything (snowy branches, snowy cars, snowy playground equipment, snowy roads, snowy fields, snowy roofs etc) - I couldn't get enough!
But now I'm over it. Snow was cool at first but now I'm done with it. After all, I'm an Aussie girl from the hot side of Oz. I'm not built for the cold, I was born into the heat. I belong on the beach, not huddled under 4 blankets with the heater cranked up as high as it will go. And as undecided as I am about where fate shall take me once I finish with the JET Programme, I know that chasing summer across the globe sounds like the best idea so far!
Tuesday, 15 January 2013
Burma: Part 3 - Bagan
So a little tipsily, I hopped on the night train to Bagan and settled in for the 8 hour journey in my cushioned Upper Class seat. Having heard that these particular tracks were the worst in the country, my expectations weren't high but I was still hoping to get some shut-eye and make an early start around the temples in the morning. As it was only 9pm, I started talking to some fellow passengers to pass the time and discovered the group sitting across from me were also Melburnians - how nice it was to hear the familiar accent and have a conversation with someone who understood my points of reference! There wasn't as many vendors aboard this train, but I did manage to buy a couple of late night samosas as a snack. As it grew late everyone in the cabin slowly started drifting off to sleep and I curled under a few layers of extra clothing to keep warm as the temperature plummeted. It didn't take long for us all to be awoken with a bang though as a couple of large backpacks dropped from the overhead railing due to the incredible swaying of the train. Seriously, it was like being on a boat! I hardly got any sleep at all.
Arriving in Bagan at 4am was a nightmare. Sleepily, we all grabbed our things and got off the train only to be met by utility truck taxi drivers vying for our business into the town centre. A few of us decided to share a cab and after some fussing around hopped on the back of the ute. We stopped a short time later at a government checkpoint/paystation (it costs 10USD to enter the area) and spent a few minutes checking over the necessary paperwork before continuing on into town. One by one the cab dropped us off at our hotels and it was about 5am when I arrived at Pyinsarupa Guest House.
This place had been recommended to me by a Japanese girl I had met the day before in Mandalay and I had directions to ask for the owner, a man named Kyaw Kyaw - who oddly enough was fluent in Japanese. When I arrived however, everyone was still sleeping and Kyaw Kyaw was not due in until 10am. I was also starting to feel rather dodgy - unsure at this point whether I was hungover, tired or about to get hit with samosa-related-food-poisoning... The half-asleep guy behind the counter kindly led me to a vacant room in the back though and let me snooze for a few hours unhindered. I was woken up at 10am on the dot by a smiling Kyaw Kyaw who took me upstairs to a room that I'd be sharing with some fellow Japan-based travellers. My dodgy stomach turning out to be food poisoning of the very worst sort, I gratefully crawled into bed and casting all temple plans aside stayed there for a full 24 hours. So much for getting back to Yangon in time for New Year's Eve!
The following day however, I was back to my old self (almost) and decided to embark on the temple tour. Initially I had wanted to go by bicycle but as I still felt a little weak I decided to rent a horse and cart instead. That turned out to be a mistake! Though it lent the day an air of whimsy, travelling by this method tended to be ridiculously slow and my driver ended up being a bit of a weirdo. Also, I was locked into his 5-temple-timeline and my racing through some of the smaller (more boring) ones at the start just led me to spend an extra hour lingering at the prescribed lunch drop point. In retrospect, I should've stuck to the bikes but at 15USD for a whole day's tour by horse and cart I guess I can't complain too much. And I managed to see the last sunset of 2012 sitting atop a hundreds-of-years-old temple in the middle of Myanmar and for that I really cannot complain!
Just as the night sky was starting to settle over Bagan my driver dropped me back at Pyinsarupa and I headed upstairs to shower, change and figure out a plan for the rest of the night (NYE!!). Randomly, one of my fellow room-mates (a Japanese guy called Yuki) was also of this mind and so in a snap decision we decided to spend NYE together.
First we went to a Burmese BBQ restaurant. It was busy! I ordered a whole BBQ fish for dinner and several beers to wash it down with, so was rather surprised when the total bill at the end of the night was only 10USD for both of us combined! After dinner we ran into my fellow Melburnians again and decided to go with them to a bonfire party down the road. We made a quick stop for some Myanmar whiskey and then proceeded to dance our asses off around the bonfire until about 2am. I had a great time (despite the countdown coming an odd, full 2 minutes early) though if I never hear the song Gangnam Style again it will be too soon! After some bicycle-related shenanigans and hand-holding down the streets of Bagan, we made it back to the Guesthouse and slipped into bed by around 2.30am. Poor Yuki had wanted to get up and watch the first sunrise of 2013, but after such a big night we both slept soundly through until mid-morning. It was a good New Years.
On New Year's Day I had made plans to travel back to Yangon by bus, departing Bagan at 6pm. Yuki and I decided to spend the day together exploring Bagan in the meantime though and so after pulling ourselves together we set off on foot, clutching our cameras, in search of hidden wonders. First, we spent some time looking for a temple carved into a cliff face that I had my heart set on visiting, only to realise later that it was actually located just outside Mandalay, not Bagan :( Next we followed some winding paths down to the riverside where we made friends with some local kids and watched as the village women lined up to pull water from the nearby well. We also had a big curry lunch at a small family restaurant and managed to revisit a few of the bigger, more impressive temples we had seen previously. And over a few late afternoon beers, Yuki introduced me to some of his friends, Taku and Take, who were also bound for Yangon on the same bus as me. It was sad to leave him behind when I got on the bus - a hazard for the solo traveller I guess - though I was happy to have met him and have some new friends to look out for me on the trip down to Yangon.
Overall, Bagan was good. A little too "countryside" for me but probably somewhere I would revisit, if only to tour some of the more obscure and further away temples one day. Also, the people here were beautifully friendly and heading back just to see Kyaw Kyaw again might be worth the trip!
Arriving in Bagan at 4am was a nightmare. Sleepily, we all grabbed our things and got off the train only to be met by utility truck taxi drivers vying for our business into the town centre. A few of us decided to share a cab and after some fussing around hopped on the back of the ute. We stopped a short time later at a government checkpoint/paystation (it costs 10USD to enter the area) and spent a few minutes checking over the necessary paperwork before continuing on into town. One by one the cab dropped us off at our hotels and it was about 5am when I arrived at Pyinsarupa Guest House.
This place had been recommended to me by a Japanese girl I had met the day before in Mandalay and I had directions to ask for the owner, a man named Kyaw Kyaw - who oddly enough was fluent in Japanese. When I arrived however, everyone was still sleeping and Kyaw Kyaw was not due in until 10am. I was also starting to feel rather dodgy - unsure at this point whether I was hungover, tired or about to get hit with samosa-related-food-poisoning... The half-asleep guy behind the counter kindly led me to a vacant room in the back though and let me snooze for a few hours unhindered. I was woken up at 10am on the dot by a smiling Kyaw Kyaw who took me upstairs to a room that I'd be sharing with some fellow Japan-based travellers. My dodgy stomach turning out to be food poisoning of the very worst sort, I gratefully crawled into bed and casting all temple plans aside stayed there for a full 24 hours. So much for getting back to Yangon in time for New Year's Eve!
Kyaw Kyaw.
The following day however, I was back to my old self (almost) and decided to embark on the temple tour. Initially I had wanted to go by bicycle but as I still felt a little weak I decided to rent a horse and cart instead. That turned out to be a mistake! Though it lent the day an air of whimsy, travelling by this method tended to be ridiculously slow and my driver ended up being a bit of a weirdo. Also, I was locked into his 5-temple-timeline and my racing through some of the smaller (more boring) ones at the start just led me to spend an extra hour lingering at the prescribed lunch drop point. In retrospect, I should've stuck to the bikes but at 15USD for a whole day's tour by horse and cart I guess I can't complain too much. And I managed to see the last sunset of 2012 sitting atop a hundreds-of-years-old temple in the middle of Myanmar and for that I really cannot complain!
Just as the night sky was starting to settle over Bagan my driver dropped me back at Pyinsarupa and I headed upstairs to shower, change and figure out a plan for the rest of the night (NYE!!). Randomly, one of my fellow room-mates (a Japanese guy called Yuki) was also of this mind and so in a snap decision we decided to spend NYE together.
First we went to a Burmese BBQ restaurant. It was busy! I ordered a whole BBQ fish for dinner and several beers to wash it down with, so was rather surprised when the total bill at the end of the night was only 10USD for both of us combined! After dinner we ran into my fellow Melburnians again and decided to go with them to a bonfire party down the road. We made a quick stop for some Myanmar whiskey and then proceeded to dance our asses off around the bonfire until about 2am. I had a great time (despite the countdown coming an odd, full 2 minutes early) though if I never hear the song Gangnam Style again it will be too soon! After some bicycle-related shenanigans and hand-holding down the streets of Bagan, we made it back to the Guesthouse and slipped into bed by around 2.30am. Poor Yuki had wanted to get up and watch the first sunrise of 2013, but after such a big night we both slept soundly through until mid-morning. It was a good New Years.
The only photo I have of me and Yuki on NYE - blurry and drunkenly!
On New Year's Day I had made plans to travel back to Yangon by bus, departing Bagan at 6pm. Yuki and I decided to spend the day together exploring Bagan in the meantime though and so after pulling ourselves together we set off on foot, clutching our cameras, in search of hidden wonders. First, we spent some time looking for a temple carved into a cliff face that I had my heart set on visiting, only to realise later that it was actually located just outside Mandalay, not Bagan :( Next we followed some winding paths down to the riverside where we made friends with some local kids and watched as the village women lined up to pull water from the nearby well. We also had a big curry lunch at a small family restaurant and managed to revisit a few of the bigger, more impressive temples we had seen previously. And over a few late afternoon beers, Yuki introduced me to some of his friends, Taku and Take, who were also bound for Yangon on the same bus as me. It was sad to leave him behind when I got on the bus - a hazard for the solo traveller I guess - though I was happy to have met him and have some new friends to look out for me on the trip down to Yangon.
Overall, Bagan was good. A little too "countryside" for me but probably somewhere I would revisit, if only to tour some of the more obscure and further away temples one day. Also, the people here were beautifully friendly and heading back just to see Kyaw Kyaw again might be worth the trip!
Monday, 14 January 2013
Burma: Part 2.2 - Mandalay
The next day I met the guys outside Sabai Phyu with the motorcycles they had rented for the day - on better bikes and an even cheaper deal than the day before! We'd decided to stay within the city limits and visit the Mandalay Palace grounds, a few temples, the zoo and at sunset, Mandalay Hill. Cruising around the city on a faster motorbike was a little scary, though the sightseeing spots weren't that far from each other so we weren't on the bikes for all that long anyway.
The Mandalay Palace grounds were only mildly impressive. Unfortunately, during the war all of the original structures had been burnt down and so the buildings on display were mere replicas of those from earlier times. Furthermore, while beautiful in architectural style, all of the buildings were also empty - with many of the Mandalay Palace treasures being housed in the National Museum in the southern city of Yangon. On top of that, there were many areas within the Palace grounds that were off limits to foreigners - including the supposed tomb/burial place of one particular Burmese king. Nevertheless, we took a lot of pictures and sat around talking and soaking up the atmosphere. It was strange to see so many tourists, and armed guards around!
Next up we stopped at a few temples - the names of which I cannot be sure of - and then decided to find a place to eat lunch. We ended up at a Chinese restaurant where the staff encouraged us to choose our own ingredients from a servery before they stir-fried it all up and brought it to our table. We shared a beer and a few large bottles of water to combat the heat and then took off again, this time in search of the Mandalay Zoo.
The zoo was depressing. We saw animals in tiny cages within cages, people feeding the captive birds cheese puffs, disease-stricken rabbits begging for scraps and shackled elephants swaying back and forth under a large concrete cabana. It was the saddest zoo I had ever seen and truthfully (ice-creams aside) it really put a dampener on the day.
By this time it was late afternoon so the four of us hopped back on the bikes and headed to Mandalay Hill, intent on climbing the 700+ stairs to take in the city view at sunset. Just before entering we decided to buy some betel (my first time) and the four of us spent the first few flights of stairs chewing the leaves and spitting the red juice rather unceremoniously over the edges. It was here that we were befriended by a young monk called Sitkonaing, who patiently walked with us up the hill, trying to converse with us in English wherever possible. I discovered that he was 16 years old, living at a Mandalay monastic school, studying politics and economics, with plans to travel to Australia next year for further study. He was delighted to find out that I was Australian and the two of us took an immediate liking to each other. He had the most perfect teeth, beautiful smile and innocent look about him - I couldn't stop staring at him. He was very peaceful and intriguing.
We stopped climbing to catch our breaths, sitting on the benches chatting and taking pictures of the setting sun, before realising (too late) that we hadn't actually reached the top yet and had just observed the sunset from a mediocre vantage point some halfway up the hill... Sitkonaing quickly took charge and showed us the way to the top of the hill, which was strangely difficult to find amongst the splitting staircases. The marble and mirror-tiled walls and floor was amazing and in the sunset or under the artificial light everything shimmered colourfully. It was an incredibly romantic location and it was possibly right then that I fell in love with Mandalay.
Eventually the sun went down completely and it was time to leave Mandalay Hill. Jas and I had no idea how to get downstairs again, and we had lost the boys so it was up to Sitkonaing to show us the way instead. When we got to the bottom we'd decided to ask Sitkonaing if he wanted a ride home, remembering how he'd told us his monastery was an hour's walk away. At first the boy politely declined but after some reconsideration he agreed to get on board Bastien and Ulysse's bike. The three of them squished onto one scooter was hilarious and I spent the whole ride back to the school just staring and laughing at their antics.
As we arrived at the school, Sitkonaing decided to introduce us to the Principal and so we were ushered into a cluttered office to meet U Nyaung - head abbot. U Nyaung had a very calming atmosphere about him and you couldn't help but laugh every time he laughed, so amusing was his belly chuckle. He asked us a lot of questions about where we were from and why we'd come to Myanmar - then offered us all teaching positions at his school. I found myself taking some literature and having a serious think about it, after all, what exactly would I do straight back in Australia in August anyway..? U Nyaung offered to host us for a better look around the next morning, if we would like to come back, and so we shook his hand, posed for a few pictures and vowed to return at 8am.
We were a little late in arriving the next morning and poor Sitkonaing was beside himself, probably thinking we weren't coming. Unfortunately, the Principal had other matters to attend to, so the young monk was left in charge of showing us around. Classes themselves weren't in session but we were given the opportunity to check out the woodwork shop, kitchen, teacher's quarters, dorm quarters, rooftop ball courts, classroom, library and media room - which makes it sound all way more fancy than it was. Picture if you will the most basic versions of these school facilities that you could imagine and then double it down again and you'd be close to the truer image. Towards the end of the visit, Sitkonaing and I swapped email addresses (amusingly, the little monk is even on facebook!) and I gave him a plastic bag full of stationery supplies (from Australia and Japan) for him to share with his friends. He posed for a few photos with us and we promised to see him again, at least at some time in the future. I left the compound with a heavy heart - missing him from the moment I walked through the school gates. I do hope I get to see him again - he was such a beautiful soul.
Our taxi dropped us back at their hotel and as the boys headed upstairs to pack up and check, I said my goodbyes to Jas. We swapped email addresses and the like, with promises to try and hook up later on in the trip if we were in the same place at the same time and with that, she was gone. I spent the day buying a train ticket to Bagan, wandering around, having lunch, drinking beer, avoiding the one sleazy guy I'd seen all trip and eventually making some new and really helpful friends at a BBQ restaurant. At 10pm, slightly buzzed from an afternoon of drinking, I hopped on the train to Bagan and settled in for the 8 hour journey from hell.
The Mandalay Palace grounds were only mildly impressive. Unfortunately, during the war all of the original structures had been burnt down and so the buildings on display were mere replicas of those from earlier times. Furthermore, while beautiful in architectural style, all of the buildings were also empty - with many of the Mandalay Palace treasures being housed in the National Museum in the southern city of Yangon. On top of that, there were many areas within the Palace grounds that were off limits to foreigners - including the supposed tomb/burial place of one particular Burmese king. Nevertheless, we took a lot of pictures and sat around talking and soaking up the atmosphere. It was strange to see so many tourists, and armed guards around!
View of Mandalay Palace from the watchtower
Next up we stopped at a few temples - the names of which I cannot be sure of - and then decided to find a place to eat lunch. We ended up at a Chinese restaurant where the staff encouraged us to choose our own ingredients from a servery before they stir-fried it all up and brought it to our table. We shared a beer and a few large bottles of water to combat the heat and then took off again, this time in search of the Mandalay Zoo.
The zoo was depressing. We saw animals in tiny cages within cages, people feeding the captive birds cheese puffs, disease-stricken rabbits begging for scraps and shackled elephants swaying back and forth under a large concrete cabana. It was the saddest zoo I had ever seen and truthfully (ice-creams aside) it really put a dampener on the day.
By this time it was late afternoon so the four of us hopped back on the bikes and headed to Mandalay Hill, intent on climbing the 700+ stairs to take in the city view at sunset. Just before entering we decided to buy some betel (my first time) and the four of us spent the first few flights of stairs chewing the leaves and spitting the red juice rather unceremoniously over the edges. It was here that we were befriended by a young monk called Sitkonaing, who patiently walked with us up the hill, trying to converse with us in English wherever possible. I discovered that he was 16 years old, living at a Mandalay monastic school, studying politics and economics, with plans to travel to Australia next year for further study. He was delighted to find out that I was Australian and the two of us took an immediate liking to each other. He had the most perfect teeth, beautiful smile and innocent look about him - I couldn't stop staring at him. He was very peaceful and intriguing.
We stopped climbing to catch our breaths, sitting on the benches chatting and taking pictures of the setting sun, before realising (too late) that we hadn't actually reached the top yet and had just observed the sunset from a mediocre vantage point some halfway up the hill... Sitkonaing quickly took charge and showed us the way to the top of the hill, which was strangely difficult to find amongst the splitting staircases. The marble and mirror-tiled walls and floor was amazing and in the sunset or under the artificial light everything shimmered colourfully. It was an incredibly romantic location and it was possibly right then that I fell in love with Mandalay.
The view from our halfway-up-the-hill vantage point wasn't all bad...
Everything was covered in marble and mirrors!
There was even a golden spire at the top!
Eventually the sun went down completely and it was time to leave Mandalay Hill. Jas and I had no idea how to get downstairs again, and we had lost the boys so it was up to Sitkonaing to show us the way instead. When we got to the bottom we'd decided to ask Sitkonaing if he wanted a ride home, remembering how he'd told us his monastery was an hour's walk away. At first the boy politely declined but after some reconsideration he agreed to get on board Bastien and Ulysse's bike. The three of them squished onto one scooter was hilarious and I spent the whole ride back to the school just staring and laughing at their antics.
Bastien, Sitkonaing and Ulysse all riding back to the monastery together on one bike :)
As we arrived at the school, Sitkonaing decided to introduce us to the Principal and so we were ushered into a cluttered office to meet U Nyaung - head abbot. U Nyaung had a very calming atmosphere about him and you couldn't help but laugh every time he laughed, so amusing was his belly chuckle. He asked us a lot of questions about where we were from and why we'd come to Myanmar - then offered us all teaching positions at his school. I found myself taking some literature and having a serious think about it, after all, what exactly would I do straight back in Australia in August anyway..? U Nyaung offered to host us for a better look around the next morning, if we would like to come back, and so we shook his hand, posed for a few pictures and vowed to return at 8am.
Bastien and Jas posing with the Head Abbot and School Principal, U Nyaung.
We were a little late in arriving the next morning and poor Sitkonaing was beside himself, probably thinking we weren't coming. Unfortunately, the Principal had other matters to attend to, so the young monk was left in charge of showing us around. Classes themselves weren't in session but we were given the opportunity to check out the woodwork shop, kitchen, teacher's quarters, dorm quarters, rooftop ball courts, classroom, library and media room - which makes it sound all way more fancy than it was. Picture if you will the most basic versions of these school facilities that you could imagine and then double it down again and you'd be close to the truer image. Towards the end of the visit, Sitkonaing and I swapped email addresses (amusingly, the little monk is even on facebook!) and I gave him a plastic bag full of stationery supplies (from Australia and Japan) for him to share with his friends. He posed for a few photos with us and we promised to see him again, at least at some time in the future. I left the compound with a heavy heart - missing him from the moment I walked through the school gates. I do hope I get to see him again - he was such a beautiful soul.
Posing with Sitkonaing and his friend on top of a school building.
Sitkonaing wearing my sunnies :)
Our taxi dropped us back at their hotel and as the boys headed upstairs to pack up and check, I said my goodbyes to Jas. We swapped email addresses and the like, with promises to try and hook up later on in the trip if we were in the same place at the same time and with that, she was gone. I spent the day buying a train ticket to Bagan, wandering around, having lunch, drinking beer, avoiding the one sleazy guy I'd seen all trip and eventually making some new and really helpful friends at a BBQ restaurant. At 10pm, slightly buzzed from an afternoon of drinking, I hopped on the train to Bagan and settled in for the 8 hour journey from hell.
Saturday, 12 January 2013
Burma: Part 2 - Mandalay
Dragging my sorry (mildly hungover) ass out of bed at 5am on Boxing Day in order to make my 6am train, was not the most pleasant of holiday experiences. However, the staff at the Fatherland Hotel were very accommodating - ringing my room for a wake-up call, checking me out as expediently as possible and helping me hail a cab. Pretty soon I was on my way to the Railway Station due to get on the slow train to Mandalay.
I knew the journey would be slow going, but I was under the impression that it was a 12-hour trip for some reason. After a conversation with one of the guys working on the train (in broken-English) however and I discover it's actually to be an epic 17-hour trip. Great. Having known this, perhaps I wouldn't have opted for the wooden bench seats of Ordinary Class...
I found myself sat next to an interesting young Burmese guy with zero English ability and opposite various other passengers at various stages of the journey. There were two other foreigners in this section, though by and large we mostly kept to ourselves. I dozed off a few times (difficult as it is to sleep dead upright on a wooden bench) and spent quite a few hours staring out of the open window at the villages passing us by. I was surprised at just how beautiful the view was, at how many pagodas and bullock-drawn carts I saw along the way. Sitting on those horrible seats for 17 hours was bad, but being able to see the countryside between the two cities was worth it.
The atmosphere aboard the train was also very interesting. I managed to thoroughly capture the attention of the train staff (conductor-like workers that keep an eye on everything along the journey) and I often saw them wandering into my car, sitting nearby and reading a newspaper while surreptitiously glancing in my direction every few minutes. Likewise, my fellow passengers seemed intrigued by my presence and I could often discern them talking about me - presumably wondering why I was in Ordinary Class instead of with the majority of other tourists in the First Class car. The highlight of the trip though were the vendors that kept hopping on and off the train around station stops. It seems you could buy just about anything on board - from freshly cooked stir-fry noodles to meals of rice and fried fish (I tried it, it was delicious) or beer or whiskey or soft drinks and fried samosas, fresh fruits, cold crepes, spring rolls, packets of chips, cigarettes and even shampoo toiletry packs. I did buy a few things though unfortunately I think I was charged "foreigner prices" for most of it.
Arriving in Mandalay at 11pm and without a hotel reservation wasn't the most relaxing way to approach the city, but sharing a cab to a recommended guesthouse with a fellow JET (a Canadian guy from Kochi) made things a little more palatable. Unfortunately, the guesthouse that we headed to was full (lucky for Phil he had a reservation already!) and so I set off down the street to try my luck at finding a room at a few other places. Five guesthouses later and I was starting to think that I'd have to sleep on the street, until I stumbled across the Sabai Phyu Hotel. Thankfully, the guys at the desk (who spoke PERFECT English) informed me that they did indeed have a vacancy and that the room would cost 12USD a night. Without even bothering to look at it, I filled out the paperwork, paid my money and took the key. It was just after midnight and I had finally found a place to sleep. I'd not had dinner and enquired about places that might still be open (with a teahouse/restaurant just two blocks away my best bet) but after getting upstairs and unpacking my stuff, I was plum tuckered and instead crawled straight into bed.
The next morning I was on a mission to change Japanese yen into Burmese kyats and set off towards the nearest bank to complete the exchange. Once at the bank however, I was told that they don't change JPY and that I'd have to try the next bank... Jostling from one bank to another, each time in vain, I found myself back at the guesthouse thoroughly stressing out about running out of cash. I had maybe 200USD (and 50,000yen) on me and needed to make it through 5 days of travel before I could reach the apparent banking mecca of Yangon again. I sat down on the front steps of the guesthouse to have a cigarette and ponder my options, which is when I met Bastien, Ulysse and Jas - two French guys and a German girl who become my travelling companions off and on for the remainder of my trip...
The trio - who had been travelling together for awhile - were in the process of arranging motorbikes for hire and in order to make up numbers, invited me along with them for the day. Seeing that this would be much cheaper than hiring my own motorbike tour guide for the day, I decided to take them up on their offer and soon we were on our way out to find Amarapura and the U Bein Bridge - the boys on one bike, Jas and I on the other. The bridge itself, though rather famous, was quite difficult to find and we ended up backtracking several times until we decided to stop for lunch instead. We stepped into a little tea house by the side of the road and each gobbled up two sweet steamed buns (filled with red bean paste and shredded coconut) along with some sweet, milky tea. The tea house was crowded with 20+ people all - rather intently - watching a Thai film on the flat screen TVs. After a few cigarettes and some get-to-know-you conversation later, we took off again in search of the U Bein Bridge, the handmade teak footbridge that graces the cover of the Myanmar Lonely Planet guidebook. In the middle of the afternoon and at low tide, we found it to be a less than spectacular sight but Jas and I took the time to walk across it anyway (it's over 1km long) while the boys had a second lunch and a beer.
Finding our way out of Amarapura was just as difficult and realising that the boys had a puncture didn't help our cause in getting back to the hotel before sundown. However, the evening ride back into Mandalay City along the lakeside was a beautiful, if not slightly scary, experience. We arrived back at Sabai Phyu at 7pm much to the ire of the men who had rented us the motorcycles, insisting as they were that we were due back at 6pm. It took a few thousand kyats (a couple of dollars) to smooth the situation over and once settled, the four of us agreed to meet up again in 45 minutes to go and get some dinner.
Wandering down the darkened streets of Mandalay we found a night market and several street vendors selling curry. We picked a busy looking place, grabbed ourselves a table and tucked into a number of plates of curry each. I decided to try chicken, beef and goat - all of them were delicious! After dinner the boys wanted to find an internet lounge to check their Christmas emails, so Jas and I bought a couple of cheroots (cheap Burmese style cigar/cigarettes) and sat on the stoop outside the store, smoking and chatting for the next hour. By 11pm we were ready to call it a night and so off we went to bed, with plans to meet up the following morning to do it all over again.
I knew the journey would be slow going, but I was under the impression that it was a 12-hour trip for some reason. After a conversation with one of the guys working on the train (in broken-English) however and I discover it's actually to be an epic 17-hour trip. Great. Having known this, perhaps I wouldn't have opted for the wooden bench seats of Ordinary Class...
I found myself sat next to an interesting young Burmese guy with zero English ability and opposite various other passengers at various stages of the journey. There were two other foreigners in this section, though by and large we mostly kept to ourselves. I dozed off a few times (difficult as it is to sleep dead upright on a wooden bench) and spent quite a few hours staring out of the open window at the villages passing us by. I was surprised at just how beautiful the view was, at how many pagodas and bullock-drawn carts I saw along the way. Sitting on those horrible seats for 17 hours was bad, but being able to see the countryside between the two cities was worth it.
Onboard the slow train to Mandalay
Traditional villages out in the countryside
The atmosphere aboard the train was also very interesting. I managed to thoroughly capture the attention of the train staff (conductor-like workers that keep an eye on everything along the journey) and I often saw them wandering into my car, sitting nearby and reading a newspaper while surreptitiously glancing in my direction every few minutes. Likewise, my fellow passengers seemed intrigued by my presence and I could often discern them talking about me - presumably wondering why I was in Ordinary Class instead of with the majority of other tourists in the First Class car. The highlight of the trip though were the vendors that kept hopping on and off the train around station stops. It seems you could buy just about anything on board - from freshly cooked stir-fry noodles to meals of rice and fried fish (I tried it, it was delicious) or beer or whiskey or soft drinks and fried samosas, fresh fruits, cold crepes, spring rolls, packets of chips, cigarettes and even shampoo toiletry packs. I did buy a few things though unfortunately I think I was charged "foreigner prices" for most of it.
Arriving in Mandalay at 11pm and without a hotel reservation wasn't the most relaxing way to approach the city, but sharing a cab to a recommended guesthouse with a fellow JET (a Canadian guy from Kochi) made things a little more palatable. Unfortunately, the guesthouse that we headed to was full (lucky for Phil he had a reservation already!) and so I set off down the street to try my luck at finding a room at a few other places. Five guesthouses later and I was starting to think that I'd have to sleep on the street, until I stumbled across the Sabai Phyu Hotel. Thankfully, the guys at the desk (who spoke PERFECT English) informed me that they did indeed have a vacancy and that the room would cost 12USD a night. Without even bothering to look at it, I filled out the paperwork, paid my money and took the key. It was just after midnight and I had finally found a place to sleep. I'd not had dinner and enquired about places that might still be open (with a teahouse/restaurant just two blocks away my best bet) but after getting upstairs and unpacking my stuff, I was plum tuckered and instead crawled straight into bed.
The next morning I was on a mission to change Japanese yen into Burmese kyats and set off towards the nearest bank to complete the exchange. Once at the bank however, I was told that they don't change JPY and that I'd have to try the next bank... Jostling from one bank to another, each time in vain, I found myself back at the guesthouse thoroughly stressing out about running out of cash. I had maybe 200USD (and 50,000yen) on me and needed to make it through 5 days of travel before I could reach the apparent banking mecca of Yangon again. I sat down on the front steps of the guesthouse to have a cigarette and ponder my options, which is when I met Bastien, Ulysse and Jas - two French guys and a German girl who become my travelling companions off and on for the remainder of my trip...
The trio - who had been travelling together for awhile - were in the process of arranging motorbikes for hire and in order to make up numbers, invited me along with them for the day. Seeing that this would be much cheaper than hiring my own motorbike tour guide for the day, I decided to take them up on their offer and soon we were on our way out to find Amarapura and the U Bein Bridge - the boys on one bike, Jas and I on the other. The bridge itself, though rather famous, was quite difficult to find and we ended up backtracking several times until we decided to stop for lunch instead. We stepped into a little tea house by the side of the road and each gobbled up two sweet steamed buns (filled with red bean paste and shredded coconut) along with some sweet, milky tea. The tea house was crowded with 20+ people all - rather intently - watching a Thai film on the flat screen TVs. After a few cigarettes and some get-to-know-you conversation later, we took off again in search of the U Bein Bridge, the handmade teak footbridge that graces the cover of the Myanmar Lonely Planet guidebook. In the middle of the afternoon and at low tide, we found it to be a less than spectacular sight but Jas and I took the time to walk across it anyway (it's over 1km long) while the boys had a second lunch and a beer.
U Bein Bridge
Finding our way out of Amarapura was just as difficult and realising that the boys had a puncture didn't help our cause in getting back to the hotel before sundown. However, the evening ride back into Mandalay City along the lakeside was a beautiful, if not slightly scary, experience. We arrived back at Sabai Phyu at 7pm much to the ire of the men who had rented us the motorcycles, insisting as they were that we were due back at 6pm. It took a few thousand kyats (a couple of dollars) to smooth the situation over and once settled, the four of us agreed to meet up again in 45 minutes to go and get some dinner.
Ulysse and Bastien waiting for their punctured tyre to be repaired
Wandering down the darkened streets of Mandalay we found a night market and several street vendors selling curry. We picked a busy looking place, grabbed ourselves a table and tucked into a number of plates of curry each. I decided to try chicken, beef and goat - all of them were delicious! After dinner the boys wanted to find an internet lounge to check their Christmas emails, so Jas and I bought a couple of cheroots (cheap Burmese style cigar/cigarettes) and sat on the stoop outside the store, smoking and chatting for the next hour. By 11pm we were ready to call it a night and so off we went to bed, with plans to meet up the following morning to do it all over again.
Friday, 11 January 2013
Burma: Part 1 - Yangon
For winter vacation this year I decided the time was right for me to visit Burma, my father's home country, and so on 23 December 2012 I set off from Kansai International Airport toting a backpack, exotic expectations and a few hundred green-back bound for Yangon. Being a cheapskate, I opted for a cheap but rather circuitous flight with Jetstar and first had to land in Taipei and then Singapore. After a wonderful flight (more on that in a later blog), I spent the night in Singapore and then boarded a Myanmar International Airways flights to the old capital.
The first thing I noticed when I landed was the relatively modest airport and the heat! With temperatures currently hovering around 10 degrees in Japan, I knew Burma would be a summery heaven in comparison and I was really looking forward to temps in the thirties. I wasn't disappointed. On my way through the arrivals hall I was greeted by a betel-nut-chewing taxi driver who for 10USD would take me wherever I wanted to go. I agreed and hopped into the backseat of the cab headed for the Fatherland Hotel in South Yangon.
Fatherland Hotel was lovely. More of a guesthouse than a hotel: it had five floors accessible by lift, a large marble-floored lobby and attentive staff. My room was not bad for $35 a night - it was clean, with a king size bed, flat screen TV, mini fridge, aircon, balcony and attached basic bathroom. I spent a few hours getting accustomed to things, taking pictures and smoking cigarettes on my balcony, marvelling at the fact that after a lifelong yearning I was finally here! I had dinner that night at a little Chinese place next door (my disappointment at flying all the way to Burma to eat ethnic Chinese food was almost palpable) and washed it down with a few Myanmar beers. It was both cheap and delicious - costing me a total of 8USD for the lot. Tired from the days of travelling and sitting alone at a restaurant, I wandered back to the hotel to watch TV and get ready for bed.
I was woken at 6.30am Christmas morning by my mobile phone ringing. Confused, I answered it to a chorus of "Merry Christmas" from my brother and his two children. Excited to start the day but unable to bring myself to do so at such an ungodly hour, I hung up the phone after a few delightful minutes of conversation and eventually dozed off again. Dragging myself out of bed at around 10.30am, I decided to catch a taxi to Shwedagon Pagoda - Yangon's, and indeed perhaps even the entire of Burma's, most famous religious temple.
Free for locals, as a foreigner it cost me 5USD to get into the Pagoda. Cheap considering the sheer treasure of it, but disappointing as the cash goes straight to the military government. I paid my money as the Tourist Assistant plied me with questions, commenting that we were "like family" after I told him that my father is Burmese. It was sweet and I wandered into the temple grounds with a smile on my face.
Inside Shwedagon Pagoda was amazing. The floor was marble. There were golden spires glittering in the sunshine. There were hundreds of people walking around barefoot, sitting in the shade, praying in front of their Buddhist statue of choice. I saw my first sprinkling of fellow tourists, sat mesmerised by the gleaming towers of gold all around me, surreptitiously watched the monks as they passed by and took a million photographs. A full lap of the pagoda took me between 15-20 minutes and despite walking essentially in a large circle, I noticed with all of the side temples along the way it was rather easy to get lost. The people around me seemed immensely curious in my presence and downright intrigued if they happened to spot the Burmese-script tattoo on my foot. I spent about 3 hours at the pagoda - it was so peaceful, spiritual and serene!
As the sun burned down I decided to attempt walking back into town and with a smile on my face and a stray dog randomly in tow, I set off towards Kandawgyi Lake and beyond that downtown Yangon. Obviously not paying as much attention in my taxi ride there as I had thought, I found that I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. I didn't mind so much - it was my first glorious day, after all - but in the end I was walking for about 2 hours before getting anywhere useful. Everywhere I went people seemed curious about me and often I was stopped just so people could shyly say hello. I eventually made it to the Yangon Railway Station (nobody understands you if you ask for the "train station") and as I'd heard the train journey was a beautiful way to see the countryside, enquired about booking a Boxing Day ticket to Mandalay. My choices were a $10 Ordinary Class seat or a $35 Upper Class seat. Knowing that the government would take all profits here too, I opted for Ordinary Class and much to the amusement of the station officials (who seemed never to have seen a Western girl before) paid my US dollars, collected the handwritten ticket and headed out for lunch.
I was determined to find myself a bowl of oh-no-kauk-swe (Burmese-style coconut chicken laksa) as a Christmas treat and set off down the dusty streets in search. By this stage I was feeling a little dehydrated and when a friendly old-man tea-shop vendor stopped me to ask if I wanted an iced coffee, I obliged. I tried my luck asking for ohnokaukswe and to my delight he nodded that he did indeed sell it and a bowl would be shortly forthcoming. I could barely contain my excitement.
I wolfed down my lunch and then idled over the iced coffee, returning the million smiles and hellos I got along the way. As I was leaving, I was wished a Merry Christmas by a fellow traveller and we got to talking as I paid up my $2.50 tab. We decided to go for a roam about the city together and for the next 5 hours did just that. Later that night, Sunil and I decided to also share dinner and some beers together nearby his hostel and so ended my first full (Christmas) day in Burma.
The first thing I noticed when I landed was the relatively modest airport and the heat! With temperatures currently hovering around 10 degrees in Japan, I knew Burma would be a summery heaven in comparison and I was really looking forward to temps in the thirties. I wasn't disappointed. On my way through the arrivals hall I was greeted by a betel-nut-chewing taxi driver who for 10USD would take me wherever I wanted to go. I agreed and hopped into the backseat of the cab headed for the Fatherland Hotel in South Yangon.
Fatherland Hotel was lovely. More of a guesthouse than a hotel: it had five floors accessible by lift, a large marble-floored lobby and attentive staff. My room was not bad for $35 a night - it was clean, with a king size bed, flat screen TV, mini fridge, aircon, balcony and attached basic bathroom. I spent a few hours getting accustomed to things, taking pictures and smoking cigarettes on my balcony, marvelling at the fact that after a lifelong yearning I was finally here! I had dinner that night at a little Chinese place next door (my disappointment at flying all the way to Burma to eat ethnic Chinese food was almost palpable) and washed it down with a few Myanmar beers. It was both cheap and delicious - costing me a total of 8USD for the lot. Tired from the days of travelling and sitting alone at a restaurant, I wandered back to the hotel to watch TV and get ready for bed.
I was woken at 6.30am Christmas morning by my mobile phone ringing. Confused, I answered it to a chorus of "Merry Christmas" from my brother and his two children. Excited to start the day but unable to bring myself to do so at such an ungodly hour, I hung up the phone after a few delightful minutes of conversation and eventually dozed off again. Dragging myself out of bed at around 10.30am, I decided to catch a taxi to Shwedagon Pagoda - Yangon's, and indeed perhaps even the entire of Burma's, most famous religious temple.
Free for locals, as a foreigner it cost me 5USD to get into the Pagoda. Cheap considering the sheer treasure of it, but disappointing as the cash goes straight to the military government. I paid my money as the Tourist Assistant plied me with questions, commenting that we were "like family" after I told him that my father is Burmese. It was sweet and I wandered into the temple grounds with a smile on my face.
Inside Shwedagon Pagoda was amazing. The floor was marble. There were golden spires glittering in the sunshine. There were hundreds of people walking around barefoot, sitting in the shade, praying in front of their Buddhist statue of choice. I saw my first sprinkling of fellow tourists, sat mesmerised by the gleaming towers of gold all around me, surreptitiously watched the monks as they passed by and took a million photographs. A full lap of the pagoda took me between 15-20 minutes and despite walking essentially in a large circle, I noticed with all of the side temples along the way it was rather easy to get lost. The people around me seemed immensely curious in my presence and downright intrigued if they happened to spot the Burmese-script tattoo on my foot. I spent about 3 hours at the pagoda - it was so peaceful, spiritual and serene!
The main spire at Shwedagon Pagoda.
These "statue houses" are found enclosing the main spire in a circular shape.
As the sun burned down I decided to attempt walking back into town and with a smile on my face and a stray dog randomly in tow, I set off towards Kandawgyi Lake and beyond that downtown Yangon. Obviously not paying as much attention in my taxi ride there as I had thought, I found that I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. I didn't mind so much - it was my first glorious day, after all - but in the end I was walking for about 2 hours before getting anywhere useful. Everywhere I went people seemed curious about me and often I was stopped just so people could shyly say hello. I eventually made it to the Yangon Railway Station (nobody understands you if you ask for the "train station") and as I'd heard the train journey was a beautiful way to see the countryside, enquired about booking a Boxing Day ticket to Mandalay. My choices were a $10 Ordinary Class seat or a $35 Upper Class seat. Knowing that the government would take all profits here too, I opted for Ordinary Class and much to the amusement of the station officials (who seemed never to have seen a Western girl before) paid my US dollars, collected the handwritten ticket and headed out for lunch.
I was determined to find myself a bowl of oh-no-kauk-swe (Burmese-style coconut chicken laksa) as a Christmas treat and set off down the dusty streets in search. By this stage I was feeling a little dehydrated and when a friendly old-man tea-shop vendor stopped me to ask if I wanted an iced coffee, I obliged. I tried my luck asking for ohnokaukswe and to my delight he nodded that he did indeed sell it and a bowl would be shortly forthcoming. I could barely contain my excitement.
My iced coffee and ohnokaukswe noodles.
I wolfed down my lunch and then idled over the iced coffee, returning the million smiles and hellos I got along the way. As I was leaving, I was wished a Merry Christmas by a fellow traveller and we got to talking as I paid up my $2.50 tab. We decided to go for a roam about the city together and for the next 5 hours did just that. Later that night, Sunil and I decided to also share dinner and some beers together nearby his hostel and so ended my first full (Christmas) day in Burma.
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