Travel log #16 - 20

7.5. 2017 Log 16
The border between Thailand and Myanmar is not just a borderline between two countries, but between two worlds. Myanmar is where southeast Asia meets India. First what stroke my eyes in Myawaddy were red stains on pavements, those familiar marks of chewing the Betel, and piles of rubbish everywhere. Tired by crossing the border by walk I decided to spend a night there. The next morning I tried to hitchhike to Yangon, but not very successfully. As soon as I stood by the road I've been circled by a group of very helpful locals and more or less pushed to a car heading to Hpa-An, a town on the way to Yangon. I could join, for a price of course. I couldn't do more than thank them very much and hop in. Although I got there quite early, I decided not to go on, because I found myself liking the place. So I sorted out my accommodation and set off to have an evening walk in the streets of the town. I had an incredibly cheap dinner (a meal with a small beer was less than two pounds). With the sunset I went back to my hostel and sat on the balcony, drinking beer. I was joined by three girls from three different countries. Elaine from Chile advised me to make a group trip organised by the hostel next day and when the two other girls decided to join I decided to do it. And the trip was definitely worth it: we saw three beautiful cave temples (in front of one of them a group of kids rehearsed a group dance, which was a great thing to see), a garden with over one thousand statues of Buddha and we also had opportunity to have a swim in a local pool and dance with local youngsters by a sound system truck. The whole trip was - again - very cheap. For something like that we could pay three times that much even in Vietnam.

During that day I realized that the local folk like foreigners. Everyone waved and smiled as we were passing around. The expressions of pure joy and a laughter... After Thailand, where the people already got used to suck the money out of visitors' wallets, it was a welcoming change. When in the late afternoon we returned to our hostel I met my traveling buddy who arrived on his bike and by a chance accommodated in the same place as me. So a next drinking party was due.

With Elaine, who had the same goal as me - the Buddhist village - we decided to hitchhike together to Yangon the next day. And again it wasn't much of a success: even though Elaine managed to talk a truck crew to take as aboard, we weren't taken to Bago, where I understood they're going and it would help us a lot, but to a city 20km the other direction, where they left us nearby a bus station. So we gave up and booked the tickets for an overnight bus. We were told the bus should arrive to Yangon at 5am, but in fact we got there two hours earlier. There's nothing more unpleasant than to arrive to an unknown city in the middle of the night. On top of it somehow happened that Elaine didn't get off the bus at the same station as me, so we lost each other. I walked to a nearest park to wait for sunrise so I could connect to a wi-fi and book myself a low budget hostel, because the prices for accommodation in Yangon are pretty high. After a while I succeeded to do it and how was I surprised to meet her there. But she disappeared while I snoozed, probably going to the Buddhist place. So I spent that afternoon getting ready for my Indian visa application and tomorrow I'm going to apply. Then I'm going to join her again.

I like Myanmar. It has an atmosphere comparable to Cambodia and given the fact that I didn't know anything about the country it surprises me pleasantly every single day. I have no regrets regarding my decision to visit it. Now only if I'll be successful with crossing over to India as I heard that it's no easy task. There's only one place where the foreigners are allowed to cross the border and as far as I understand a man needs a special permit to do so. So keep fingers crossed for me. 31.5. will be the day of reckoning

20.05.2017 Log 17
I'm leaving Thabarwa the day after tomorrow. The village, where Buddhist monks and volunteers both from Myanmar as the rest of the world offer help and consolation for those most in need: old, disabled and terminally ill people. This place is really hard to describe. Ten years ago there was a monk with an idea. It all started with a bamboo hut that barely deserved to be called hospital. Now, thanks to compassion, donations and selfless help of thousands of people, there is almost three thousand patients housed here. There are two hospitals here now. But you wouldn't find a doctor here. They're Dhamma hospitals, the care is taken by monks, a handful of nurses and us, few travellers from all over the world who came here with desire to help. Someone is here for only few days, some come for weeks or even months. The longer one is here, the harder it feels to leave this place. Here the hard work has real value and is paid for in more than mere money. Here, the reward is gratitude, smiles and sometimes tears of emotion.

In those twelve days I've spent here I did a lot of things new to me. I went with monks to collect alms in Yangon, which is the major income of this place, I redressed wounds and bed sores, I washed people too old and sick to move, taught English, built, cleaned, helped... The most meaningful and rewarding days of my life. Experience that won't be forgotten, experience that changes. If the meaning of Buddhist teaching is the path to wisdom, then there's a shortcut leading through Thabarwa.

But nothing lasts forever and so I'm going to move on again. I still didn't see much of this beautiful country and I'm looking forward to see the temples of Bagan and to walk in the hills around Inle lake. My visa are valid for nine more days and then I'll be gone to India. It doesn't seem that I will manage to cross the border by land as it is closed for international travellers, so I have to book a flight. I just don't know where yet...

30.05.2017 Log 18
I left Thabarwa with my French friend Hugo, because we had the same plan: to visit Bagan, the most popular place in Myanmar, and after that to head to the hills around Inle lake. We chose an overnight bus to save some money. We arrived to Bagan with sunrise and right after the arrival we rented bicycles and rode straight to the temples. Bagan is a vast area of ancient buildings which could be compared to Cambodia's Angkor Wat when we speak about history, but the visage and feeling is different. I liked Bagan more than Angkor. It's not that overcrowded and in many aspects more magnificent. We spent two days admiring the place.

In Bagan we made friends with Spaniard Santi, who also planned a trip to Kalaw - a village in the hills which is the starting point for famous trek to the shores of Inle - and so we decided to do it together. Instead of trekking with a guide we chose to do it on our own, because we wanted more freedom. And we didn't regret that decision. It were two days spent in wonderful highland. During trekking I was continuously amazed by the sight: broad calm valleys with rice fields and vegetable gardens shifted with hilltops, each of them offering amazing views of the country around us. Both nights we were honoured to spend with local people, one night with Nepalese, the other with Hmong. During third day of trekking we reached Inle lake. We spent another two days in a town on its bank and besides other activities we visited local winery and "cheroot" factory. Cheroot is a classic burmese cigar.

I'm going to India soon. I'll leave Myanmar satisfied. This country enchanted me: great people, beautiful women and marvellous nature. I even think of coming back again in few months.

10.06.2017 Log 19
There's nothing more awkward than to get cold in a country with average summer temperature around 35 degrees. That's exactly what I managed to do after the time spent in too much air-conditioned airport hall and then the plane itself. That's why I battle a flu now. Fortunately I have a good place to do so: a hostel in Calcutta which is new, clean and cheap - simply high above Indian standards. I spend my days roaming the streets of Calcutta and observing the day to day life of local people, which is in many ways so original! Men - bravely denying the heat - wear jeans, women are clad in colorful saris. Some of the people dress traditionally, other prefer the western style. The streets are totally overcrowded, with most of the sidewalks usurped for living, selling, sleeping.

When compared to other major cities of India, Calcutta is a spirited place. It's organised, relatively clean and the neighborhood where I stay is even quiet. My Indian friend Raktim helps me to know the city as if I was a local. It's only because of him that I'm not ripped off at every corner, only because of him I have the pleasure to enjoy delicious specialities of West Bengal cousine, etc.. I'm getting used to India quickly, the only thing that'll take some time is that bureaucratic chaos. To obtain a SIM card or to book a train, these ever so common things back home are little clerk wars here. But it's good to be back. It has been said about India that you can either love it or loathe it. Well I'm in the first camp.

13.06.2017 Log 20
I'm currently in Varanasi, the holy city, which should be visited by all Hindus at least once in their lifetimes. This place on the bank of Ganges is ancient. Shiva's flame, which is used to set the funeral pyres alight, is burning for over three thousand years. There are bodies being cremated at Manikarnika ghat every day and night. I had the opportunity - without really asking for it - to watch the fires from close distance. A corpse burner of the untouchable offers me guidance through the ghat and so I'm witnessing the rituals first-hand. When I walk away through a narrow lane beyond the ghat, the ashes are falling on my shoulders. Once I leave the riverbank the city turns into an endless maze of crooked overcrowded streets where it is impossible not to get lost. This is real India - fighting for every step in a mass of fellow pedestrians, dogs, cows and occasional scooter riders who never put their hands off the horn button. This all while the street-stall vendors shout one over another, monkeys entangled in the wires above their heads.

Today me and my roomie woke up before dawn to greet the sunrise from a boat on the waters of Ganges. To be honest I expected the water to be more dirty than it is. For not all the dead who enter it were burned before. According to the Hindu tradition some bodies are only tied to stones and thrown into the river from a boat. Even though the kids are merrily swimming in it while the women do the laundry. Varanasi brilliantly exposes both faces of this land: the majestic, proud and mysterious same as the dark, desperate and dirty.

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