GLORIOUS GLIMPSES OF THE PAST ON THE ROAD TO MAN DALAY
BURMA is a country where the past is constantly jostling with the present. Even as I waited at the immigration counter at Yangon airport, I was struck by what turned out to be the first of many surprises.
There was a channel marked ‘Seamen’ with no queue at all. It turned out that the channel was reserved for those seeking permanent residence. However, nobody arrives by boat these days, so having such a counter seems like a curious attempt to preserve a vanished past.
The surprises piled on the next morning as we took the two-hour flight to Mandalay. At the check-in counter, in addition to being given my boarding pass, a sticker was attached to my jacket. Although it was explained that this was so that airline staff could be sure I was directed to the right flight, on our arrival in Mandalay my passport was checked by two officials. Military rule may have ended but the old distrust of foreigners remains.
More encouraging was our experience in nearby Pyin Oo Lwin. The old colonial Governor’s House has been converted into an impressive modern hotel.
From this re-creation of the past, we were introduced to the new country that is emerging. Our guide told us he would take us to a tea house. I imagined perching on stools sipping tea mixed with sweetened condensed milk like the locals. Instead I was ushered into a restaurant where a lavish buffet was laid out. The meal we ordered came on fine plates.
Had we arrived a year before, customers would have included police spies, eavesdropping on conversations. If they felt a person was subversive, he would receive a visit and could be imprisoned for years. Our guide, who had lived through the dark military era, smiled as he recalled those grim days. His only concern now was whether we would like fish or pork.
From Mandalay we drove to the nearby Shwe-kyay-yet jetty, where we embarked on a river cruiser destined for Bagan. It was on this two-day journey down the Ayeyarwady that Burma finally revealed itself to be an enticing blend of the past and present. The boat, a beautiful replica of a colonial-era river steamer, had all the modern comforts. Yet along the way were places untouched by time.
Our first stop was at the village of Yandabo, where the peace treaty following the first Anglo-Burmese war was signed. Yet the way the women were making water pots suggested a world long before the Europeans arrived. Later during our trip we reached Inle Lake, nestling below the Taunggyi mountains. At a jetty we were helped on to a motor boat where we used umbrellas to keep out the sun, and we felt like Victorian travellers setting off to explore.
There was much to marvel at, as a ballet on water performed by the local fishermen unfolded before us. They had one foot on a slender boat, another leg wrapped round a paddle which they manoeuvred in the water to propel the boat. The fishermen carry large conical nets and, the moment they see movement, they thrust the net towards the lake’s bottom to catch the fish. It’s an art form.
But some locals cannot live by fish alone, as we discovered at the market. It was no surprise to see at a food stall a man frying fish, but what followed was astonishing. He put the fish in a bowl which also contained several red ants, mixed the two and sat in a corner eating the resulting concoction with great relish. The guide explained that red ants are supposed to be good for the eyesight.
Yangon was the last stop on our trip and the 2,500year-old Shwedagon pagoda was an appropriate climax. It enshrines strands of Buddha’s hair and we were told one of the trees is the very one under which he meditated. We also saw a quite magical sunset.
A 15-minute walk away from Shwedagon is the city’s only synagogue. Next to it is a Muslim shop. The owner’s grandson proudly wore a Manchester United shirt.
Nothing could better illustrate how Burma is emerging from the long freeze of military dictatorship. More changes will come. If you want to catch this change, now is the time to visit.