Kara rode on the bottom of the truck with this group of people while Max rode on the roof. Women are not allowed on the roof, possibly for their own safety, however we also learned in Myanmar culture, its rude for a woman to be sitting over the head of a man. Though much of the ride was filled with friendly smiles, many of the locals were curious and slightly confused as to why we were going this way. Many of these people are migrant workers who will spend their days in the workshops and fields of Mae Sot and the surrounding areas. They require special permits to travel on this road.
After traveling for the majority of the day, we pulled over at a local restaurant assuming we were stopping for dinner. We were then told that the pick up would go no further for the evening and that we would be sleeping in this room, in the back of the store. The 100+km stretch of road between Hpa-An and the Thai border is strictly controlled. Traffic runs one way on alternate days, and no vehicles are permitted to travel after dark. At the time of traveling, which was late June 2009, the KNU (Karen National Union) and KNLA (Karen National Liberation Army) were involved in the final struggle with the DKBA/SPDC for the control of the border area. During our ride, we saw other pick ups full of blue and yellow clad DKBA soldiers speeding past us. We have now learned that the DKBA and SPDC have "secured the border" and finally "defeated" the KNU/KNLA. This is a milestone in Myanmar's political history. Over the last 20 years, the government has slowly widdled away and signed treaties with the many armed separatist movements throughout the country. It is now clear that a new strategy is needed for the independence movement. For many reasons we barely slept that night: we were anxious about what the next day would bring, our beds consisted of a single straw mat, and we heard the most random, unexplained, and indescribable shouting throughout the night.
We didn't make it to the border. We woke up the next morning around 5 am, and continued down the road. We passed many cargo trucks bringing in goods of various legalities from Thailand. After passing a major bridge, the pick up truck was sent to the police station where we were told to disembark and say goodbye to our friends. We pleaded ignorance and no one got in trouble, however we knew that our days of exploration in Myanmar were now over and a serious watch would be placed upon us for the remaining 2 weeks. After a couple of hours of questioning, we were personally escorted by an immigration underling back to Hpa-An. For the rest of our time in Karen state, we were followed and questioned wherever we went. The best explanation we can give you is this, as stated above, "Tamadaw (Armed Forces of Myanmar) And The People in Eternal Unity, Anyone Attempting to Divide Them Our Enemy."
After learning that the political head of the DKBA, who happens to be a monk, lives in a highly restrictive and malaria infested area, and knowing that our movements were now being closely followed, we decided to cut our losses and visit the tourist sights of Hpa-An. Here is Max seen walking through the rice paddies and villages outside of Hpa-An towards some ancient Buddhist caves. Earlier, an SPDC spy had come to us on this fairly quiet road asking us for our passports and where we were going. Before that, in our hotel, another spy had listened to us relate our plans to the owner and on the road here, we passed a check point where our passports were also taken. Kara was pissed off that we were being followed so closely, but Max pointed out that we had knowingly tried to enter a restricted insurgent zone just days before. "Yeah but we told them we didn't know what we were doing and they believed us!" Kara still says. Regardless, we were followed.
At one of the famous caves surrounding Hpa-An. Thousands of engraved Buddhas line this temple, the oldest being more than 1,000 years old. In typical Myanmar fashion, you couldn't tell their age by looking at them.
Buddhas Buddhas Buddhas.
We were a little Buddha'ed out and frustrated with our plans.
But we decided to go to the next cave anyway. After walking for another couple of kilometers, we passed over this bridge where novice monks were playing in the water.
We arrived at this hill top, cave temple that overlooked the surrounding countryside and felt less annoyed and more happy with our experience.
On our way back to the city of Hpa-An, we stopped at a local store in the village nearby to pick up some snacks, including tea leaf salad in a bag, Max's favorite. Our brief stop allowed the swarm of children who had been following us in the village to catch up and surround us with smiles. One of the older girls spoke English and related our personal details to the crowd.
We caught a pick up from the main road back to Hpa-An without any checkpoints or problems. Max is on the roof and Kara is holding on and being held on to in the back of the overstuffed truck.
The next morning we took a rickshaw out to the "Water Lake Monastery" seen here. The centerpiece is a stupa-topped limestone formation in the middle of the lake. Behind the monastery is a limestone mountain that we are about to climb.
Even though it was raining on and off the whole day, Max is stoked.
The monastery is a kind of animal sanctuary, housing many rabbits, hamsters, and fish. Kara pets one of her furry friends before leaving to chat with some disillusioned youth who had just been deported from Malaysia.
Monks on a truck.
It had stopped raining and we had totally underestimated how tall the mountain was. After another passport check at the base of the hill in which Kara listed her name as "YOU ARE STUPID" without any problems from the illiterate SPDC spy, we began to climb the mountain. The landscape was beautiful and bizarre, sometimes looking like a mythical forest.
Many of these colorful crabs, yes, crabs, were spotted on our walk up the mountain. We have never seen forest dwelling crabs and were rather surprised.
After over two hours of climbing straight up, we reached the top... and the inevitable stupa. We were initially disappointed to enter a cloud of white mist, completely obscuring our view.
When the clouds finally cleared, it was absolutely gorgeous and worth the effort.
We only had a short time to take in the breathtaking scenery that is Karen state, as it was getting dark. We managed the steep descent and got back to our hotel without any problems. Having only a week left on our visa, and feeling very watched in Hpa-An, we decided to leave for Mawlamyine.
Mawlamyine is the former capital of the British empire in Myanmar and current capital of Mon state (next to Karen.) Kipling and Orwell were both posted here during the colonial era. The city itself is a thriving trade post and is home to many different ethnic groups including Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, and Indians. We were limited in our options for traveling further into Karen state, and heard there was a giant waterfall nearby, so we took the bus down river from Hpa-An and stayed for a couple of days.
Local tea house. Though very basic in appearance, to the right of this shot was a large LCD screened TV that was playing Italian fashion TV via satellite all day long. The three times we went there, Kara was the only female in the crowd of eager male spectators.
Downtown Mawlamyine is basically a series of makeshift markets selling anything from fruit to laminated anatomy posters. Seen above is the main road along the river. This is the main bazaar, however the selling grounds spread like tributaries through the tiny alleyways of the city.
There is a large Muslim population in the city, and the call to prayer can be heard in most parts of town.
Even the rickshaws are classic here.
Mawlamyine is situated in the Salween river delta, seen above. The river has provided the city with panoramic sunsets and bustling trade routes for centuries.
Local ferry boat operators hanging out at the docks. If you want to visit the villages on the river islands and beyond, you must obtain a permit. We didn't try.
There is also a large Chinese population here. Max played this hacky-sack like game with the members of this clan one night.
Our umbrella broke one day, giving us an opportunity to visit the umbrella repair man. In Myanmar, if your umbrella brakes, you do not buy another. There is a whole industry of spare parts and repair shops to fix one's umbrella as new umbrellas are expensive and fixing them is cheaper. Umbrellas are a must in Myanmar's blazing sun and pounding rain. People take great care in the folding and storage of their umbrellas, developing a whole etiquette that had been unknown to us. Max must have looked like he was struggling one day with closing his umbrella, so a nice man took it upon himself to teach us the art of umbrella maintenance.
Beetlenut in the market. Everyone chews this stuff like its their job.
A fellow traveler in Inle Lake had told us about this waterfall outside of Mawlamyine. We hopped on a pick up truck and took the hair-raising hour and a half journey to it.
At the bottom of the hill was a kitchy fish.
Walking up to the top of the waterfall, we could hear the shreks of joy from the hundreds of children playing in the pools below.
At the top we were surprised to find another pool under the prominently placed stupa. This is where Kara officially coined the phrase "Myanmar: Forced Pilgrimage," as we didn't even know there was a stupa or temple out here at this waterfall.
The clifftop pool came with a view of the marvelously flat countryside.
Kara swam in full clothes, as all Burmese women do. While most men also swim fully clothed, Max decided it would be ok to take off his shirt.
Later that day we were informed that we weren't too far from the world's largest reclining Buddha, or at least one of them. Figures are disputed, and this one is not officially finished. Regardless what Guiness may decide, this Buddha is FLKAJSDLAKSJDLASKJD huge!
Kara could not capture is length with one shot.
Max is dwarfed by the ear alone. You can walk inside of this Buddha. It was one of the creepiest places we have ever been. It is completely filled with unfinished and abandoned sculptures depicting the previous lives of the Buddha. There are nails and rocks everywhere. The wind rustling through the massive cave like structure creates terrifying moaning sounds and unexpected banging noises sing throughout the rooms. With no disrespect to the Buddha, we felt like we were in a horror film. It got dark and Kara got scared, so we left abruptly and made our way back to the main town.
On our last day in Mawlamyine, we walked to the top of its major hill and visited the main stupa. Max looks like a California dude here. He is a California dude.
Walking down the temple steps, we had a beautiful encounter with this bird sized butterfly. As we look back through this entry, we realized a lot of things happened to us over the couple of weeks we spent in the south. Our time here showed us some of Myanmar's most beautiful scenery, as well as the ugly face of its military dictatorship. With only a couple of days left on our visa, which we ended up overstaying anyways, we headed back to Yangon one last time. With us we took new visions of the hopeless and hapless state of this nation. Throughout Myanmar our days consist of amazing and beautiful tourist experiences punctuated by depressing and sobering views of the daily life of the Burmese people. We're still fumbling through a way of explaining our experience.
Kara and Maximilian
