Travels to the Ancient City of Bagan
Thousands of Buddhist pagodas and temples dating back to the 11th C. rise up from the plain in Myanmar (Burma)
Myanmar is one of the most unique places in the world. It feels far away from the western word, beyond the insidious reach of globalization and Starbuck’s corporate coffee culture. What I found was a place that time has forgotten, a poor rural country mired in the 18th c.; a ‘land of gold’ that has faded into a sepia-toned image of the Raj. There is much controversy about visiting Myanmar and Nobel Prize winner, Aung San Suu Kyi, asks tourists not to visit, but surely I thought this self-imposed exile from the western world by the draconian government couldn’t be good for the people of the country. I decided to go as a conscious traveler and not patronize ‘official government’ hotels, but to stay in guesthouses, dine in local restaurants and give my money to the locals.
I flew from Singapore to Rangoon (Yangon) to arrive a shoddy airport with surprisingly lax security. The ‘arrivals’ building was anything but welcoming, while ‘departures’ looked like a temple with a roof of cascading carved wood painted in gold, as though we were encouraged to leave. I bought a domestic flight to Bagan and two hours later arrived in the ancient town on the banks of the Irrawaddy (Ayeyarwady) river.
Bagan (Pagan) is considered to be the most impressive ancient civilization in Asia and has about 2000 temples, pagodas and religious structures some dating back to the 11th c. that rise up from the 42 sq km dry plain. There has been a settlement in Bagan since the 2nd C. AD, but its ‘Glory Days’ were in 1054 when the Bamar king Anawratha rose to power, built most of the temples, and demanded the people shift from their Hindu beliefs to practice Theravada Buddhism. He reportedly had 30 elephants transport the ancient Pali Buddhist scriptures to the library in Bagan. It acquired the name, ‘City of Four Million Pagodas’, and became a pilgrimage site for Buddhists throughout Asia before going into decline and being ransacked and looted by Kublai Khan and his marauding Mongol gangs at the end of the 13th c..
I arrived and took a taxi with a lovely man who spoke some English to a temple for sunset. The next day I hired him to take me to see the main sites. One can easily spend four days in Bagan and not see everything. U Bo Ni was a wealth of information and by the end of the day he seemed to like me so much that offered to guide me the next two days for free, which was a good thing since Lonely Planet said it was possible to buy domestic flights on VISA which turned out not to be the case, at the airport at least. This meant I was down about 200 USD and since there are no ATMs in Burma, or banks for foreigners to draw money, or anywhere to use VISA other than 5-star hotels that cost 160 USD a night, I suddenly had to be very careful about my remaining money. I discovered it was possible to live on 10 USD a day.
Bagan is a dusty one-road town. It looks different today than it would have in its prime where it would have bustled with tens of thousands of people, and the greater parts of the buildings would have been made from wood or bamboo. These structures have long since disappeared leaving behind a legacy of Buddhist architecture. Standing at the top of a pagoda at sunrise, or sunset, is sublime with the ghostly shapes of pyramid-shaped temples and bell-shaped stupas silhouetted in the pink glow. The plain is dotted with a plethora of these structures made mostly of ornate brick masonry and decorated with stucco on the outside that mingles Hindu styles with local Buddhist imagery, and terracotta tiles and vibrant murals on the inside depicting Buddha’s past lives that rarely sees an eyeball.
There are several great monuments, like the impressive Ananda Temple dominating the plain with its golden Stupa illuminated by the sun. The tallest temple rises about 500 meters (1,500 ft). Pagodas are solid structures often containing ‘relics’ of the Buddha, or an enlightened monk, and have staircases on the outside leading up to terraces. Temples can be entered and most have four entrances, based on the four cardinal points, and open out symmetrically into entrance halls at the temples’ axes that surround the central superstructure. In each vestibule is a Buddha, some rise up 9 meters (31 feet) and are made of teak and painted in gold leaf. There is a reclining Buddha over 18 meters (60 ft) in length. Visitors walk in a clockwise direction through the temples so one’s heart is close to the Buddha. There are so many magnificent sites that it’s easy to get completely saturated and exhausted.
My friend in S’pore had urged me to find the ‘scene’ and have some fun. There is no scene here other than locals hanging out in teahouses sitting on tiny plastic chairs with low tables as if they were children. There are definitely no stylish places, expect a few lush hotels on the banks of the Irrawaddy serving gin and tonics at sunset. Italian pizza was on offer from a wood burning stove so I patronised that restaurant a few nights as the Burmese are not known for great cuisine, and I was most cautious not to get to sick. Lunch was had a vegetarian restaurant, “Be Kind to Animals by Not Eating Them’, which had wonderfully fresh food. I stayed at an old guesthouse, Thiri Marlar Hotel, with teak floors that served breakfast - papaya and bananas with toast and coffee - on the terrace. An ‘English’ breakfast was also on the menu.
At 5:30 each morning I met my trusty guide to visit a pagoda at sunrise, then we spent the morning exploring at least 12 temples, back to the hotel to get out of the sun from 1-4, and then another 6 temples, culminating in a climb to the top of a pagoda for sunset. It was 38 degrees, too hot to do anything in the afternoon but seek out an air-conditioned dark place away from the sun. I found that if even a ray of sunlight fell on my body during those times I’d feel sick. I’ve never been in that kind of heat and I wouldn’t plan on experiencing it again. March is the beginning of summer in Burma and temperature rise to 45 degrees by June. Most tourists vacate the country by early February. I understand why the British retreated to the coolness of the ‘hill stations’.
After a few days, I felt as if I’d gone to the end of the world and had been lost for months. Burma is so naïve and backwards. There is no technology. Ancient computers. No roaming mobile service. In fact, mobiles are not allowed and the Internet rarely works. Transport is mainly on surprisingly nice bicycles from China, horse and carriage, oxen, a few dilapidated cars from the 50s, and every manner of truck with antique motors on the outside and 25 people being jolted about on the roof. I met tourists who rook the train or bus from Rangoon, a hellishly hot 16-hour journey on horrendously pot-holed roads that churned their organs inside out and caused lower back pain. I was thankful I didn’t have the time to do that.
There were few tourists. Some remote temples I would have totally to myself and then at the more popular ones, busloads of mainly Germans and Americans would arrive fresh off their luxury river cruise on the Irrawaddy to ascent a temple for sunset, only to be driven off again before the sky turned red and disappear into the night. They certainly were not to be seen in the teashops. I felt completely safe in this country of no prostitution or pornography (so different than neighbouring Thailand). There were no leering men and at no time was anyone disrespectful. I was free to wander wherever I wanted day or night.
Bagan has an interesting market where indigenous people brought their wares in canoes each morning from across the river. Men and women wear long skirts, longyis, and the women wear short-sleeved tops. Women and children wear thanaka, a white paste ‘make-up’ to protect their face from the sun. People are desperately poor. I heard that a hotel worker in Rangoon made about 3 UDS a day. So the times I gave someone 1 USD to take a photo their face lit up with joy. Burma has about 33 different ethnic peoples and the look is very diverse. There were beautiful longyis and handbags in the markets embroidered with various tribal textures. The food was abundant and so strange I had no idea what most of it was, nor was I about to taste it for fear of getting sick.
For a country under military siege I saw surprising few police and no soldiers. It is totally unlike Venezuela with its seven different intimidating police forces, or even Sri Lanka with soldiers dressed in bright blue combat fatigues carrying machine guns. I gather their insidious presence is disguised in plain clothes. I didn’t ask about the political situation unless someone brought it up, for fear of making them uncomfortable. There are informants everywhere. I did speak candidly to one woman about human rights abuses and she verified that the government is murdering tribal peoples on the various borders, especially the Karen people next to Thailand. And they are dismantling the education system, something that used to be quite good. The military are now educated in China and Russia and there is a deliberate plan to keep the people ignorant. Almost all the intellectuals and artists have left the country and there are no good jobs. She is an architect who builds schools in remote parts of the country. Many of those places are off limits to tourist.
I guess what struck me most in this desperately poor Buddhist country where people are obviously not happy with their difficult lives, is there willingness to smile and be nice. I never heard someone shout or be rude. They were gentle. I was so touched by how they chose to smile. It was a small gift that made them and those around them a little happier, even for a moment. And it is free! I’ve spent so many years wandering in an existential malaise, and even though people always told me to smile, and I thought ‘no’ I want to share my pain. Now, I finally get it and am endeavouring to smile at people even in the midst of their self-imposed road rage in London.
I journeyed a long way into the depths of my mind in Burma and came back feeling much happier and lighter. I realise how ungrateful so many people are in the Western world, despite their privileged lives, and how they are the cause of their own misery racing after money and filled with self-importance. I am always amazed by how people in poor countries find it easier to smile. I guess that’s why I like to travel, to get outside of myself into a foreign place where I can become someone better. See the world from a different perspective and be changed by it. I’m amazed by those who expect to take their comforts and culture with them and am grateful that I don’t need to, yet I’m still aware of how patronizing this might sound, after all I don’t have to live in Burma.
© 2007 Heather Elton