Immediately after getting through customs I noticed the difference with India. There was no hassle with taxi drivers. I also soon discovered that budget hotels in Myanmar, on average, were much cleaner and staff much more helpful than in many other countries in Asia. Yangon appeared to be a nice and friendly city. People were extremely friendly, helpful and in a nice way interested in ‘foreign travelers’. There was no hassle at all. Was this the result of the ‘iron fist’ of the military junta (also referred to as the Tatmadaw)?

After the independence from the British in 1947, Myanmar was unsuccessful in establishing a democratic government. In 1962 the down hill path to socialism was taken. The military took over (now headed by Lt. General Khin Nyunt, who every ‘normal’ citizen hates), imprisoned many political opponents or placed them under house arrest (like Nobel Peace Price winner Aung San Suu Kyi). Human rights are being violated on a large scale. Citizens are not allowed to discuss politics with foreigners and some foreigners (depending on the embassy where they applied for an entry visa) are forced to sign waivers not to discuss politics with citizens of Myanmar. In the street and on the front page of the only English written newspaper one can find slogans like:

- Only when there is discipline will there be progress.

- Beware of aboveground and underground destructive elements.

- Anyone who is riotous, destructive and unruly is our enemy.

- Oppose those relying on external elements, acting as stooges, holding negative views.

- Oppose those trying to jeopardize stability of the State and progress of the nation.

- Oppose foreign nations interfering in internal affairs of the State.

What about this one:

- Behave yourself as a citizen.

And my all time favorites:

- The Tatmadaw shall never betray the national cause.

- Crush all internal and external destructive elements as the common enemy.

But many people in Myanmar were not afraid to discuss politics with me. On many occasions people who expressed their dislikes towards the Tatmadaw confronted me with their opinions. I was surprised to hear that several of these people stated that better times would come soon (within five years according to some).

Most foreigners traveling independently, like myself, are labeled as a FIT, which stands for Foreign Individual Traveler, and which was actually stamped in my passport. However, the government prefers tour groups as they are easier to control and they typically spend more money. Only government licensed hotels are allowed to accommodate foreigners. Therefore it isn't uncommon to arrive in a town where there is only one or even no hotel where you can stay (which simply means that you have to move on as local people are not allowed to accommodate you).

In Yangon I visited the most sacred of all Buddhist sites in the country; the Shwedagon Paya. Burmese hope to visit it al least once in their life. The Shwedagon is a huge bell-shaped monument, which rises 98 meters above its base. Plaques of gold cover the top part. It was built between the 6th and the 10th century. The stupa has eight niches around its base, each with a Buddha image. Between the niches are figures of animals and birds; they represent the eight directions of the compass and the associated sign, planet and day of the week. To worship Buddha – and for a ‘happy’ life – you must go to ‘your’ niche, which is determined by the day on which you were born. So I went to the east corner (associated with Monday, the day on which I was born). There I found the symbol of my planet (the moon) and its corresponding sign (the tiger). Tradition says that I have to pour 32 cups of water (31 based on my age + 1) over these signs, so for the sake of the future I did.

In Yangon I also enjoyed colonial buildings, street life and the atmosphere in the many teashops. I soon enjoyed visiting these teashops, you can enjoy sweet milky tea and various delicious snacks. Most teashops look like a kindergarten classroom. Tables and chairs are very small and low to the ground (about 30 cm.). In is not uncommon to sit in a teashop with very loud rock and techno music, which is hilarious. Many people drink their tea/coffee by pouring some of it on the saucer first. Then they slowly sipp the drink from the saucer (something I thought was only a custom of Dutch farmers). If you do not have the time to drink the tea or coffee in the teashop you can get it ‘to go’. They simply put the hot beverage in a small plastic bag. Like I mentioned before, there is a lot to see in the streets. Pick-ups, the most popular way of transportation, which generally are packed with people (with passengers even sitting on the roof or standing on the tailgate), but are great fun to ride with. You can also see wagons in the streets, completely made out of wood (including the two wheels) pulled by a horse or two huge water buffalo’s (which reminded me of an Ivanhoo movie).

Most Burmese wear a Longyi. This is the Burmese unisex sarong-style lower garment. Unlike men in most other South-East Asian countries, few Burmese men have taken to western trousers. Many men are covered by tattoos, I cannot recall a country where I saw so many pieces of ‘walking art’. In the morning - between 6 and 7 – you can watch many monks (young and old) walking through the streets with black bowls in their hands. They go from house to house, shop to shop collecting food (because they are not allowed to cook for themselves). Out of respect they do this on bare feet. It is a beautiful sight to see, lines of monks in their red and orange ropes (or pink if they are nuns) through the streets.

I could easily notice that China is one of the main economic partners of Myanmar. Kareoke bars and small shops where you can sing songs from a television screen (called ‘CD Okay’) can be found everywhere. Unfortunately I also discovered that the typical Chinese way of building houses reached Myanmar. Huge, tasteless, boring concrete constructions, easy recognizable by the white tiles on the outside and blue or green colored windows.

One of the things I never saw in an Asian country before was that women – and some men – had some sort of yellow paste on their faces, mostly on the cheeks. However, some women even cover their neck, arms and whole face with it. I soon found out that is was Thanakha, a yellow sandalwood-like paste. Supposedly it is good for the skin and also functions as makeup and sun-block. Also, I must say, most Burmese women I met were very good looking.

After a few days in Yangon I left for Inle Lake, approximately 15 hours by bus to the north. The lake is famous for the daily markets (in different villages), the various villages with houses which are built on poles, the fishermen who move their small boats with an unique movement of one leg against a pedal. The lake is also well known for its wildlife. I stayed at a very nice guesthouse (View Point Inn), where I had my own veranda above the water with comfortable bamboo chairs. Every morning I was served an excellent breakfast; fresh fruit, tasty lassie’s and the usual eggs and toast. One day Paul (a fellow Dutchman who biked his way through Myanmar) and I hired a boatsman who toured us around the lake in his long boat made of wood. The Inle Lake area is also famous for avocado’s, so after our long and hot day on the lake we enjoyed a delicious Taw But Thi Theut (avocado salad) and a cold Myanmar beer.

From Nyaungshwe I took three different pick-ups to Kalaw (about three hours to the west). Kalaw was a popular hill station where the nights were cool, a nice change from the heat (36 degrees Celsius) of Yangon. Here I met a friendly couple (Anna and Thierry) from Amsterdam who just arranged a guide for a four-day hike in the hills around Kalaw. I joined them, however, the day we planned to leave Anna got sick so we postponed the trek for one day. Thierry and I explored Kalaw and visited a Muslim ceremony (during the Haj celebration) in which they cut the throats of many cows. I have no problems watching the religious killings of chickens or goats. Here however, I discovered my own limits in relation to these kinds of rituals. Already after I saw the first cow’s throat being slit I was disgusted with the whole thing. First they tied the legs of the cow together so the animal drops on the ground. Then they held its head backwards so the throat became clear to cut it. With a huge sward they rapidly cut the throat. However, they didn’t – on purpose – cut it way through. The animal was still alive while blood was coming out of its throat like a fountain. I could see the cow body move, trying to breath. Several men held their hands, arms and even legs in the stream of blood, it almost looked like they washed themselves. Thierry and I were disgusted by it. The locals were very pleased by our visit and casually asked questions about the Netherlands and its national soccer team. During all this I thought about an old man I saw on one of the ghats in Varanasi (India). This man yelled at two foreigners; "you white people, you eat cow"! Obviously the man was very much against ‘our’ way of treating the ‘holy’ cow. Here I was, sickened by what I just witnessed, especially the useless suffering of the animals. We quickly moved away from that site and found ‘peace’ and quietness in a tea-stall just down the hill. Later that day we visited a Buddhist cave (more peaceful) and a monastery, which contained a bamboo Buddha that we couldn’t identify as such. Unfortunately the next day Anna and Thierry had to postpone again. Thierry also got diarrhea and Anna’s situation wasn’t improved. To avoid loosing more days, I decided to go on my own. Together with my guide Uncle Chain and his nephew, I left for a three-day trek. On this trek I visited several villages and met people of different tribes. In the Kalaw area there are four major tribes; Pa Laung, Taung Woe, Danu and Pa-O. In the first village we visited, I discovered something very strange. I saw a ‘white’ monk and later a ‘white’ lady, both however with an Asian face. Also, it appeared that their parents were like any other Burmese, dark skinned. Uncle Chain explained it to me and told me the following story:

During WWII the English were fighting the Japanese in Burma. One day in 1945, the Japanese shot an English fighter plane above Kalaw, which moments later crashed on a hillside near the village of Nyaung Kone. The Japanese never discovered the plane, however locals did find it. All but three passengers were found dead. The three survivors were carried to the village and medical care was provided to them. However, they died despite all efforts. Fifteen years later a local couple gave birth to a child who was white. Two more white children were born later. Local people believe that these three are the reincarnation of the three English who died 15 years earlier. Uncle Chain even told me that those three are able to speak some English (but didn’t have any education), however, I was not able to check this myself.

Life in the villages is very simple. Most people live in bamboo houses/huts and those with more money to spend live in a house made of wood. I even saw a few brick houses. Most villages I visited didn’t have electricity. After one hour of walking on the first day I saw the devastating effects of deforestation. Sometimes we walked through fields/forests, which were still burning. At night I saw the yellow/orange flames of burning hillsides, close and far away. It was a sad sight. I didn’t blame the local people, what can they do? They need land to grow crops on to support their family (families with 10 or more children weren’t an exception). The government, unfortunately, doesn’t offer an alternative, it even supports the illegal deforestation as it needs the foreign currency it get from selling the wood to countries like China. In Nepal I saw the devastating results of landslides caused by deforestation. Here in the hills around Kalaw, this was just one monsoon away from happening as well. Uncle Chain told me many stories about the beautiful woods and its wildlife during his youth. Now it was all being destroyed. On the night of March 18th it was a full moon. The monastery near Shwemin Pone celebrated this. I visited this festival, which was a lot of fun to watch. People of the different tribes gathered near the monastery, played games, ate delicious food and of course prayed to Buddha. That night we stayed at the house of a family in Shwemin Pone (dominated by the Palaung tribe). Here I was given delicious food and a comfortable place to sleep.

The next day we hiked to Taryaw village (which is also dominated by the Palaung). Here I had tea in a typical ‘long-house’ (the local name is Ain Tan Shay). Not too long ago this kind of house could be found in every village. Now one can only incidentally see them. A ‘long-house’ is, as the name implies, a long house which provides shelter to 10 or more families. The one I had tea in was about 50 meters long. Every family had its own little space, but I was able to walk freely from one end to the other. That night we stayed at the house of Mr. Ko Soe Aung and his wife Mrs. Daw Ngwe (in Myanmar – and some other Asian countries - there is not such a thing as a family name) in the village of Myintaik (mostly Danu people). This was a very friendly people. Mrs. Daw Ngwe cooked delicious food like: San Lonsi (a delicious rice cracker), Hin Htote (a mixture of sticky rice, unions and other vegetables, rolled and cooked in a banana leaf), Mon Kwethe (a kind of rice pudding) and Kyanthaka (sweets made from sugar cane). After the children were used to my height and western looks, I soon became their new friend. On the third day we hiked back to Kalaw via Taungchay village (Pa-O people, which you can recognize by their black cloths and a red headpiece). Uncle Chain showed me where, not too long ago, the opium poppy was cultivated. It is still a major source of income for this state, especially in the far north (Golden Triangle) and southeast. In these areas Pa-O rebel armies, Wa and Chinese opium warlords operate.

Mandelay (population approximately 700.000) was the last capitol of Myanmar (Burma) before the British took over. About 60% of all monks in Myanmar reside in the Mandelay area. From Kalaw I took a local bus to Mandelay. It was a nine-hour trip via a very bad and dusty road. Personally, I didn’t like the city of Mandelay too much. However, the area around Mandelay had many interesting sites, like the ancient cities Amarapura, Sagaing and Mingum.

On the 22nd I biked to Amarapura, about 12 kilometers south of Mandelay. Most part of that day I stayed on and around U Bein’s bridge. This 1,2 kilometer-long teak footbridge was built two centuries ago by U Bein (the then Mayor of Amarapura) with the salvaged material of a deserted palace. Most of the original 984 teak posts still stand (it is therefore the longest teak-span in the world). I arrived at the bridge very early and enjoyed watching the local people. With pleasure I watched two young men carefully position their fishing net and after 15 minutes they pulled it out of the water again, catching about 50 fish. This process was repeated multiple times. I saw a duck herdsman taking his 100 (or more) ducks out for a ‘walk’. Women were washing cloths at a well while their children were taking a bath. I joined them in their fun and took charge of pulling up the water using a long rope with a bucket attached to it. At the compound of a small pagoda I played soccer with some boys using a bamboo ball. In the shade of a huge Buddha statue I played a simple game of cards (how controversial) with three kids. At a local teashop I enjoyed a cup of Leq P’eq Ye, tea with condensed milk and sugar and various superb snacks like: Samosa (triangular shaped, fried pastries with a mixture of potatoes and vegetables inside), Bain Mok (also called ‘Opium Cake’, a sweet cake made with poppy seeds and coconut) and Paug Si (a steamed bun with various fillings like coconut, pork or sweet beans). The next day I tried to hire a boat to bring my bike and me 45 minutes upriver to Mingum. It was then that I noticed the dominant role of MTT (Myanmar Travels & Tours, the government run travel organization). None of the local boatsmen dared to take me, so I was forced to use the tourist boat. In Myanmar, in order to get additional dollars, the government charges pretty high admission prices for popular attractions. This also included Mingum. These admission fees can only be paid in US$ or FEC’s (or Kyats, but with a high conversion rate). At most sites there is no way to avoid paying these fees. However, at Mingum most FIT’s know to avoid paying the government (fellow travelers will tell you the trick in Mandelay). You simply make a detour and approach the site from the back. Once you are there, nobody will ask you to show a ticket. When I arrived in Mingum I searched for a way to bike to the back. However, due to the sandy roads I wasn’t able to bike. Near a teashop I asked the people if I could leave my bike with them. That wasn’t a problem and they courteously pointed me in the direction of the MTT booth. I told them that I didn’t want to support the government. The crowd, which was gathered around me, immediately started laughing and all together showed me the way to get to the Mingum Paya – avoiding the MTT collection booth.

The Mingum Paya was an impressive Zedi (stupa, a traditional Buddhist religious monument). Construction started in 1790 and was done by thousands of slaves and prisoners of war. However, the king who ordered the construction of this gigantic Zedi died in 1819 and so the work halted. So far, only the brick base – that stands about a third of its intended height – was finished. An earthquake split the monument in 1938, however, it still is a very impressive place. I have never seen so many bricks together. Like all religious sites, one has to remove all footwear before entering. Together with a man from Belgium I climbed the gigantic pile of bricks, which is 50 meters high. I still remember how hot the bricks were due to the intense heat of the sun. Had the stupa been completed, it would have stood 150 meters high. Near the Zedi I visited the famous Mingum Bell, which is the largest – uncracked – bell in the world (apparently there is a bigger bell in Moscow, but that one is cracked). The bell weights 90 tons, is 4 meters high and over 5 meters in diameter.

I decided not to take the boat back to Mandelay, but in stead to bike the 50 kilometers. The first leg of that trip was not too easy with a Chinese one-speed bike, because of the sandy roads. But from Sagaing on I was able to use an asphalt road. Somewhere along this road I enjoyed a fresh steamed corn and two liters of water. On the 24th I took a bus to Pakokku, a small town 6 hours southwest of Mandelay.

Pakokku is famous for tobacco, which is cultivated in the surrounding floodplain, jaggery (palm sugar), thanakka logs, longyis and saun (blankets made from cotton and wool). To the disappointment of the owner of the guesthouse where I stayed (Mya Yatanar Inn) not many foreigners visited Pakokku. Well that became very obvious the moment I wondered through the streets. But before I was able to put one foot outside the guesthouse, the owner (Mr. Tint San) asked me to be back at 17:00 hours. I was surprised by his request and asked him why. The only thing he said was that he wanted me to attend an English speaking class. At five that afternoon Mr. Tint San gave me a bike and asked his son to bring me to the location of the English speaking class. I arrived at a neat bamboo shed, which had one ‘old style’ school board and several posters on the walls with things like the ‘a-b-c’ and a world map printed on them. The ‘class-room’ was full with people ranging in the age from 18 to 50 (I guess). There was even a group of five monks who participated. Soon I was introduced to the English teacher Mr. Soe Myint. He was the assistant lecturer of the Pakokku Education College. He himself organized the English speaking classes every night (Monday – Friday, from 17:00 – 22:00 hours) for everybody in Pakokku who was interested in learning the English language. Mr. Soe Myint had never been outside Myanmar (like most Burmese) and learned English from missionaries when he was young. That night I became the guest ‘teacher’ and was soon discussing various topics with the attendees. All people in the class were given English names, they were not allowed to use their real names. The topics we discussed ranged from the Netherlands (its culture, economy, geography, etc.), the Internet (most people heard about it but didn’t have a clue what it was. Some thought it was some sort of fax machine), environmental issues and ‘life in the West’. A few ladies wanted to know why I still wasn’t married, a question which led to many more ‘private’ matters. I had a great time and before I knew it class was over. Until late Mr. Soe Myint, a few students and myself spent at the local beer-garden.

Because I had to disclose my age earlier in the class, people knew that the next day was my birthday. Mr. Soe Myint therefore invited me to join him and a few others to have a typical Burmese breakfast; Mohn Hingar (a delicious soup with Burmese spaghetti, some vegetables and spices). The morning of my birthday I woke up at 5:00 hours by the sounds of prayers coming from the loudspeakers of the local monastery. It lasted for about an hour! After the delicious breakfast with Mr. Soe Myint and a few of his students, I was asked to participate in his English class for children (the youngest appeared to be three years old), which he organized every Saturday morning. For 30 minutes I did things like the ‘a-b-c’ and sang songs. Later that day I went to Pakhangyi, a 19th century town with old city walls and one of the oldest surviving wooden Kyaungs (monastery), about 20 kilometers north-east of Pakokku. Gilbert, one of the students, was so kind to bring me there and back on his motor bike. That night I was invited to a English speaking class session. Here students sang the ‘Happy Birthday" song and also gave me a beautiful longyi as a present. After class I invited everybody for a few beers and snacks and the beer-garden. It was a great and special birthday. On the 26th I left Pakokku for Nyaungh-U/Bagan, by local boat. Mr. Soe Myint, Mr. Tint San, Gilberts and a few others all made sure I left Pakokku as comfortable as possible. The journey took almost two hours (going south) and gave me a good impression about life on and near the Ayeyarwady River.

Bagan is perceived to be one of the most wonderous sites in Myanmar and southeast Asia (protected by the UNESCO). Across 40 sq. kilometers of country stand thousands of stupas (Buddhist religious monuments) and pahtos (temples). Originally there were 4446 monuments but in 1978 only 2217 could be identified. Bagan entered its golden period more than 800 years ago, which ended just over 200 years later in the year 1287. During two and a half centuries various kings ordered the construction of the stupas and pathos. Most of these monuments are small, other are huge (40-45 meters high), with multiple terraces which are accessible via narrow staircases. From most of these terraces you can have awesome views of the Bagan area especially during sunrise and sunset. In 1975 an earthquake heavily damaged many monuments, but most are restored. Almost all monuments contain Buddha statues and in some one can still enjoy beautiful frescoes and tiles which picture various religious stories.

On my first day in the Bagan area I visited the most popular sites (by bike of course). But it was after I visited the remote, where hardly any tourist goes, that I really appreciated Bagan. Biking through this peaceful landscape with many beautiful and ancient constructions was fantastic. During five days I enjoyed the Bagan area and my little veranda of my room at the Golden Village Guest House.

On the 31st of March (also the 181st day of my trip) I took the overnight bus to Yangon (16 hours). From Yangon I took another bus to Kinpun, 5 hours southeast of Yangon. Kinpun is a little town on the base of Mt. Kyaikto (about 3700 ft. high). On top of this mountain sits the famous Gold Rock, a massive goldleafed boulder delicately balanced on the edge of a cliff. Like Shwedagon Paya (in Yangon) this is one of the most sacred Buddhist sites in Myanmar. Every year, especially during the period from November till March, thousands of pilgrims visit this place. My guidebook and some local people told me that it was about a four-hour climb to the top. Of course I wanted to challenge that time. Before 7:00 hours I started my hike to the Rock. It took me 2 hours and 40 minutes – and a lot of sweat. The view from the top was great. I was able to see the coastal line, the dense forests surrounding Mt. Kyaikto and, of course, the Golden Rock. The religious site itself wasn’t that spectacular. But the views and the religious atmosphere were worth the climb. I spent my day on the top reading, writing and walking. After sunset I left for my hike back to Kinpun. Soon it was darker than dark, especially when walking through dense forest where the light of the stars couldn’t reach. There was no moon that night and I forgot to pack my flashlight. I soon realized that I was in a not too comfortable situation. After a few ‘close calls’ I asked some locals to sell me a few candles and a lighter. However, they had a much better solution for me. From some old cloth, gasoline and a bamboo stick they made me a torch! And here I went, in my own Indiana Jones setting, walking down a rocky trail. Just before reaching Kinpun village the flame of my torch died. But with the help of the electrical lights of the village I was able to safely navigate my way back.

My last day in Myanmar I spent in Yangon. In one of the many street stalls I enjoyed my last bowl of delicious Mohn Hingar, some Mon Kyout (fried fish paste) spring rolls with hot sauce and a banana for dessert (total cost 100 Kyats, less then US$0.30). It was also on this day that I ate a new delicacy. Since a few days I saw street vendors selling something that looked like a giant grasshopper. However, I couldn’t convince myself to actually buy an ounce of these horrible looking insects. A few ladies behind the counter of a shop where I bought my last liter of water were munching on those same insects. Before I knew it I had one in my mouth. Head (with two huge eyeballs), body, wings, legs, everything, I chewed on and swallowed the whole thing. And you know what, that lightly fried and marinated ‘thing’ tasted great! Later I discovered that the insect I so much enjoyed was a cricket (Pa Yit in Burmese).

Another month went by very fast. During my stay in Myanmar I had a lot of fun, visited beautiful sites and met great people (locals as well as fellow travelers). I have great respect for the people of Myanmar, in the way they treat foreign visitors but also in the way they try to live a happy and meaningful life as best as possible. Especially this last aspect amazed me, knowing the kind of government, which is ruling over this country. I think it is the duty of the ‘free western world’ to keep putting pressure on the military government of Myanmar. I will return to this country – with my bike - and hopefully find a country where people have freedom of speech, where forced labor doesn’t exist anymore and where a democratic chosen government is in place.