Life on Inle Lake

Floating gardens, fishermen, jumping cats, stilt villages, handmade silver; Inle Lake has it all.

Perched on our wooden canoe with umbrellas for shade we spent the day meandering though villages and communities living on the lake.

The floating gardens cultivated by the Intha tribe utilise the lake’s richness. We careful sailed past row upon row of tomatoes. The ripened produce is sailed to shore on small dugout canoes appearing to almost sink with the weight.

Villages on stilts rose above us – although in the rainy season they would be much closer to the water.

Fishermen use the unique leg rowing technique; wrapping their foot around the paddle leaving both hands free for fishing.

Daily life on the lake looks simple; washing in the water, buying essentials from the stilted shops, farming and fishing. 

Tourism is also a source of income. Workshops with demonstrations of weaving, silver making, cigar rolling, etc make for an interesting stop. Although the tours include a few too many, especially with the inflated prices in the shops at the end of each workshop. I still couldn’t resist buying a few trinkets for gifts though.

One of the much talked about tourist attractions is Nga Phe Kyaung – otherwise known as the ‘Jumping Cat Monastery.’ Monks have trained their cats to jump through hoops and invite tourists to watch the show. As we sailed closer to the monastery we noticed the Buddhist chanting getting louder and louder. It wasn’t until we entered the monastery we realised we were actually attending a monks funeral! There were no jumping cats but the image of the embalmed monk in his coffin is one I’ll not forget.

Before sailing back to Nyaungshwe for sunset we cooled down with a quick dip in the lake. A refreshing end to my favourite day in Myanmar.  

Traditional Burmese Massage

Clearly signposted from the main street of Nyaungshwe (on the outskirts of Inle Lake) lays Win Nyunt’s Traditional Massage hut.

Greeted with a warm smile from Win Nyunt I was led into the airy wooden room, lined with high mattresses.

Burmese massage is similar to Thai – although not quite so harsh. Win Nyunt lay a thick blanket on my back and legs and proceeded to walk on me, using the wooden beams for support. I could feel the aches and kinks disappear.

A proud father of three Win Nyunt told me about his eldest boy (12) training to be a monk as his youngest, a beautiful 5 year old girl, pered through the curtains. He’s training his son and middle daughter in massage as his mama and grandmamma trained him. It will be his youngest turn when she turns 7 and they can all start working when they are 15/16.

When his son came home with a friend he introduced me (while continuing to massage out the travellers aches and pains.) The boys set up their make-shift DVD player and watched cartoons on the tiny screen. 

As the massage drew to a close his wife came in and asked me if she could give me some medicine. Why not? So she lathered on a mixture of menthol, almond and coconut oil before offering me a cup of tea as I played with the children.

A delightful family business I’d definitely recommend. 

Lunch with 1,500 monks

Adorned in their deep red robes monks appeared, lining the path, tightly holding their alms bowls. 89% of the Myanmar population are Buddhist and every Buddhist male is expected to become a monk and take up temporary residence in a monastery at least twice in his life time. The Maha Ganayon Kyaung monastery in Mandalay is home to 1,500 of these monks. At 11am every day they line the paths of the monastery and wait patiently for their lunch, which has to be served and eaten before noon. 

Even though there is a big sign welcoming tourists to watch this incredible spectacle and inviting us to take photographs I felt a little uncomfortable looking on as the line of hungry men and boys grew. The group of tourists on the other side of the road to us accentuated this discomfort. Laden with big bags of sweets they handed out their offerings as the monks walked passed towards the vats of simple food awaiting them. Unfortunately these tourists must have missed the sign asking people not to cross the monks paths as they zigzagged between them, rushing back to replenish their supply of sweets. Watching from afar, despairing at this act of generosity we wondered if even such big bags of sweets would be equally shared amongst the entire monastery. Unfortunately our wonderings were proved correct and we felt very sorry for the monks not only at the end of the queue to recive their lunch, but also missing out on the sweets.

I guess we can’t be too disparaging about the other tourists though as we ourselves took photos and made the visit to the monastery in the first place. 

Wanting to chat, practice their English and tell us about their faith some of the monks approached us. They appreciated our interest in their monastery and were very welcoming to all of the tourists, which definitely put us at ease. This is one of the many things I grew to love in Myanmar; the genuine interest and openness of everyone we met.

The monks ate and took a break before spending the whole afternoon studying. As they rested we wondered around the monastery, it was so peaceful and even living such a frugal lifestyle we could understand why people stay so long or rejoin later in life.

Transport in Bagan: Bikes, Taxis, Boats & Horses

A short plane journey from Yangon lays Bagan. Described as Burmese First Empire there are over 3,300 temples and pagodas here.

Our first choice of transport for sightseeing was push bikes.  Easily hired from most guest houses we lowered the seats (even in Asia our group of mostly 5ft 1 seemed short..!) and set off with our baskets full of water, sun cream and cameras.

With little traffic around we bezzed down the hills but in the midst of the ‘Dry Zone’ at over 35 degrees the uphill was a struggle... Veering off onto the dirt tracks on our ‘Temple Safari’ it felt as though we could be in Africa with acacia trees growing out of the dusty roads with dry heat seeping from them.

Cycling along the sand caused much amusement – not only to the locals watching the white girls becoming pinker and redder the hotter we got. Also for us as the back wheels skidded away. Somehow we all managed to stay upright, even after Lizz’s bike got a puncture.

For the full day of sightseeing we opted for an air-conditioned taxi. The six seated Toyota made for a more comfortable journey. Tourists have only recently been welcomed into the country after the tourism boycott was officially dropped by the NLD (National League for Democracy) in 2010. Unlike other wonders such as Angkor Wat there isn’t as much hassle from vendors or beggars at the main attractions here. The smaller temples usually have a gate keeper to unlock them. We didn’t quite work out if tipping was appropriate/accepted. Some gate keepers would accept, others ask, others refuse but the ones we felt most comfortable with were the ones who asked us to put our 1-500 Kyat (10-50p) in the donations boxes for restoration work.

This is why we were so shocked at one temple when a young boy dressed in a monks robe directly asked us for money as a “present” for him. On reflection we aren't sure if he was a monk as he also helped us down the narrow staircase by holding our hands (against our wishes.) Buddhist Monks are allowed no contact with women, not even to brush passed them in the street, so perhaps he wasn't a monk after all...

The journey to this and the nearby temples was idyllic though. We hired a boat from Nyaung U Jetty for a three hour cruise along the Ayeyarwady River. The breeze on the shaded boat was a welcome retreat from the scorching sun.

Another popular method of transport amongst travellers is the horse and cart. We made the wise decision to leave this until the heat had relented in the evening. It was so much fun clip-clopping through the streets at night with the flashing lights of the cart gleaming in the night sky. I’m glad it was only a half hour journey though as squeezing into the cart was a little uncomfortable.

The only form of transport we were unable to use was the renowned hot air balloon. Unfortunately the rides are only available between October to March but I’m sure it would have been a stunning way to appreciate the vastness of the ancient city. Ah well, next time...