Bagan: Burma/Myanmar Travelogue Part 3 of 4

After Rangoon, we flew to Bagan for two days/two nights. I should add here that we cobbled together our intra-country travel instead of using a travel agent to decide the agenda. While this works well in most countries, in retrospect, going with a travel agent would have been much easier. Phone communication wasn't possible, and email responses took two or three days. No credit cards accepted, so deposits are tricky (some places seem to have found an off shore account work around). While the hotels we stayed at turned out amazing (lived up to its chain name: http://www.amazing-hotel.com/ ), I still would recommend using a travel agent to anyone considering a trip.

Three methods of transport exist for touring the Bagan temples and pagodas: car, horse cart, and bike. Once upon a time - before small kids - and in a different weather climate - i.e., not as hot - we might have chosen bikes. And from reading the guide books, we had been leaning towards a horse cart for the day. On arrival, though, and realizing just how brutally hot  it was in the dry part of the country with few shade trees, we figured the $50/day for car and driver was the wisest choice. Being able to zip between sites, easily get back to the hotel to drop off Patch for a nap (with someone staying with him of course!), and then return quickly in the early evening before either boy suffered a meltdown was key to our enjoyment.

We spent first day seeing just a sampling of the 3,000 temples in the town. My favorite was a climb to the top of one from which we could view the spires. Of course, once we got to the top and realized we had to bring both boys down very steep and uneven steps, a slight fear set in. Patch zoomed down so quickly, Greg could could barely go fast enough. William, thankfully, followed my advice and went slowly and carefully. Needless to say, not a climb or decent that would ever happen in the U.S. with all its liability issues.

The second day we drove to Mt Poppa to climb lots and lots of steps to a hill top monastery. After much cajoling (and some carrying) all six made it to the top, unbitten by the rather aggressive monkeys. Unfortunately, a heat-induced haze clouded our view, so down we went again without too much time at the top.

En route from the hotel to Mt Poppa, we stopped for a demo of making sesame and peanut oil and harvesting and making palm sugar. The small boys got a ride on the oil grinder, while the big boys sampled some palm sugar liquor at 10AM (gack!). Beth and I were in charge of purchases. We also stopped in at a traditional farming community - again, poor, but not miserably destitute. It just looked like that was how the families had been living for generations on end, as if the last 100+ years of "development" had yet to reach this far into the closed country. We shared some dried mango snacks with the kids - a big hit! Though the village kids all gathered round once they realized we'd share a treat, they all waited in turn for one piece, and no one came back for a second. I wish I could have communicated to the parents what great manners the kids had :)

Bagan is also famous for laquerware, so Beth and I toured a laquerware shop which was on its fourth generation. I tried not to think about my human rights portfolio at work of reporting on child labor, since obviously everyone in this extended family - from kids to grandparents - helped the enterprise. The work was quite beautiful, especially a chest special ordered by a visitor from Australia which was almost finished - after 2.5 years of work!

Around sunset of our second evening, we took a one hour horse cart ride to an area unaccessible to cars. An hour was just about right for all of us. Turns out, the carts aren't very comfortable for extended periods of time anyone - age 2 or 32. Plus, by dusk, the temp cooled off enough that being outside was somewhat pleasant.

As always, food was delicious. We ate twice at a cafe run by a French woman settled in Bagan, at an Indian place where the cook's grandparents migrated from India, and at a locally run place. All tasty. Seems like one can't go wrong when it comes to food in this country.

Durability

After 10 years, my ironing board just bit the dust. Technically, the board is still OK, but the legs no longer are able to slide up and down, pretty much rendering it useless to me - though I'm sure someone will happily carry it away from my garbage area within half a day.

I've recently noticed that after almost 10 years of marriage, many of the daily household items we purchased or received around our wedding are starting to show wear, from pots to linens. A decade of use for those items used often is pretty good, but I can't help but think about the old wooden ironing board in my grandfather's basement. I have no idea how old this ironing board - or the electric iron that sits on it - are. At least 25 years, since I can remember my grandma using it to iron on name labels before I went to my first summer camp. I suspect the ironing board is probably closer to 50 or 60. The fact mine only lasted for 10 doesn't really mean much, in comparison.

And yet, some little things around the house have managed to last longer than expected. The best example is the small plastic blue tub Georgetown Hospital gave us as part of our "welcome baby" kit to help bathe newborn William. To date, that article remains the best utensil I've used to rinse shampoo from hair, while simultaneously serving as a bath toy extrodinaire. Probably a $2 piece of plastic from China, but definitely something I'll be packing to bring to the US for baby #3. 

Travelogue: Yangon / Rangoon - Part 2 of 4

We spent the first two days and last full day of our time in Burma / Myanmar at Tracy's house. Though we love visiting strange places, as many of you know, visiting Greg's sister was the real impetus of the trip (secondary purpose: leaving Manila during Holy Week when the city becomes a ghost town and all the local resorts jack up prices). We were lucky she was able to take a day off of work to spend with us!

Tracy shares her house with another teacher; they live just two blocks from the school they teach at. The house is well sized, but not enough room for six of us, including Beth and Andrew, so they opted for a hotel, the Sedona Hotel, the closest to Tracy's house. They give it OK reviews - good sized room, good breakfast buffet, but a few problems with service.

We arrived at Tracy's house and then had lunch at  a nearby delicious Chinese/Thai/Burmese restaurant near Tracy's house and then early to bed. When in doubt about what to order, Tracy said just get the Shan noodles - and they were good! Tracy had wanted to show us a nice hotel Sunday brunch buffet - and honestly we wanted to go - but the boys were in the need of some down time after our early morning flight. Luckily, the local food was tasty.

Sunday afternoon we visited Shwedegon Pagoda, the largest temple in the city. One could spend hours wandering around all the small side temples, taking pictures as the sun changes position, watching all the locals going about daily devotions or special occasion rituals. We visited in the late afternoon and early evening, which turned out to be great not just for photos, but also for our feet. One must remove all foot coverings (even socks) and the marble floors would be quite hot in the middle of the day, I think!

Wm and Patch learned how to ring a temple bell and a nice lady taught them how to wash a buddha. Tracy was a bit nervous because she had never seen any foreigners washing the statues, but I figured since the lady was placing a cup in Patch's hand and motioning him how to gently pour it, it was OK. And of course when the big brother saw the little brother do it, he had to try, too. Monkey see, monkey do.

We tried after to go to the big market, but apparently it closes Sunday evening. Ooops! Thankfully, Wm and Patch still had a bit more left in them, so we headed to a nice restaurant, Monsoon. The boys loved the tofu chips and strawberry juice, and then proceeded to chow down on the peanut butter sandwiches I kept in my bag, just in case. The waiter was concerned something was wrong with our food, but I assured him not. I had a very flavorful pumpkin in coconut milk curry, also splitting some stirfried greens with Tracy.

The next morning we got a bit of a late start, since we had to wait around for the travel agents to pay for our flights and hotels to Bagan and Inle Lake. Since one can't use credit cards or bank wire due to the financial sanctions, we had to bring cash. It felt somewhat clandestine, having someone tell Andrew on the phone to give $600 cash to someone who will show up around 10AM wearing blue and yellow. Luckily, he handed the dough to the right person and later that evening the plane tickets (yes, old school paper tickets) arrived.

Then we tried the market again, only to learn it was closed on Mondays. Ooops - should have read the guide book more closely! Luckily, a cute restaurant with spaghetti for Wm (and actually a really tasty tuna sandwich for me - the rest of them ate Asian) was next door. After that, it was time for Patch's nap, so back again to Tracy's house.

The afternoon we took a walking tour of the old city where British buildings - in various states of disrepair or upkeep. This is where we both felt the city resembled Kolkata - the architecture reminiscent of the homeland, but trying to be adapted for a hot, muggy climate. Wide sidewalks, rare in most of south and south east Asia, but welcomed by tourists and many street hawkers selling snacks and books. We saw quite a few copies of George Orwell's Burmese Days - as well as pretty much any thing else you could want.

Sadly, with two hot, sweaty, and dirty boys on our backs, we had to skip afternoon tea at The Strand, the swank hotel where rooms in the high tourist season can run $600 / night. A true colonial masterpiece with teak furniture in all rooms, it is highlighted in all the Travel + Leisure type of "must stay" lists. I actually contemplated staying one night there, since during the hot season one can have a bargain of $175/night. We opted for more time with Tracy, though, so The Strand will have to wait for a visit back :)

After that walk, we caught a taxi to a Burmese cafeteria type of restaurant - where we could look and point for our meal. Much better than reading off of a menu. Fresh fruit juice and lime sodas also much appreciated! In season in April: strawberry, mango, pineapple. Sometimes apple and papaya. No mango yet - those don't come until late June or July, like India. Which makes us wonder how the mango can be a year round fruit in Manila.

The taxi dropped us at the top of Tracy's road; only one gate is open to vehicle traffic in her neighborhood at night. Though this meant we had to walk a few blocks, it also meant we serendipitiously (is that a word?) happened on a sun bear cub. Yes, a real live bear cub, walking on the street, with its keeper, who was feeding it a rice and meat mix from a large steel bowl. At first I slowed, so we could all have a closer look - until reality struck when Patch said, "Mama, up up. Bear is scary." I came to my senses, realizing as cute as the cub might be - IT WAS A BEAR the size of Patch.

Greg later asked what I was thinking (he missed the encounter, having stopped at the grocery store for more bread), and I replied honestly that I thought it was on a leash so it would be OK. Then Greg pointed out a bear on a leash didn't really sound safe either. Touche! Every morning for the rest of the trip, within the first five minutes of waking up, Patch would say some variant of, "I saw a bear. It was scary!" Hope this won't harm any future zoo trips...

[brief interlude - Tuesday/Wednesday in Bagan (part 3). Thursday/Friday in Inle Lake (part 4)]

The last day back, Saturday, we finally made it to the market. Third time is the charm - or should we say "third time lucky," like in the Thomas the Tank Engine books? Greg and Andrew were our designated hagglers - us ladies just chased the boys around, trying to keep them from breaking anything! Andrew finally got a good price for a carved buddha troika (prices ranged from $15 to $55 for the same piece!), Beth found a Burma pig, Greg found me a silver necklace I had seen in Inle Lake but decided not to buy - and then regretted, and we got some tshirts, too. We looked a the gems - the thing to buy - but having zero knowledge on that front (and not to mention no more extra cash on our last day), we kept to the window shopping in that section.

We debated lunch out, but feeling hot and yucky - and having to leave at 3PM for the airport, decided lunch near Tracy's house so Patch could nap was the wisest course of action. A short three days in Yangon / Rangoon, but quite memorable!

Travelogue: Burma / Myanmar - Part 1

I think the best way to structure the blog posts will be in four parts. This first entry will be my overall impressions, and then over the next week will follow three installments for the three places we visited: Yangon/Rangoon, Bagan, and Inle Lake.

On landing, the airport impressed us - the international terminal, at least, is clean and relatively new. The immigration line moved slowly, but the only place I've seen passport control go quickly is Singapore. Our bags had to be x-rayed on exiting the terminal, which was a new experience, but I suppose for a country so isolated, they need to take the duty limits (and taxes) seriously. Tracy was easy to spot with cars ready. The government has obviously put a lot of effort into standing behind the motto posted all over: "Warmly Welcome & Be Kind to Tourist."

Initial impressions reminded me of a cross between Chennai and Kolkata many years ago - in Yangon/Rangoon, the East India Tea Company British influence is readily apparent. Greg and I found ourselves wondering if this is what India was like in the 1950s or 1960s.

While the country is developing (GDP per capita = $2,989 - for other stats, click here), the "poorness" did not feel overwhelming - a strange lack of squalor. No street children at the corners knocking on taxi windows. No street people at all, actually. Even in the villages in the countryside we passed, all the children wore clothing. Either the per capita wealth is relatively well distributed (meaning, with a lack of a middle class, aside from the super wealthy elite, everyone else tends right around the per capita income), or the government does a good job of hiding squalor through population movement control or other measures.

By movement control, I mean just that. Passports of every passenger checked at every airport and at the entrance to the tourist areas we went. We, of course, had no trouble entering each place, but I'm really not sure if a Burmese/Myanma citizen needs permission to vacation within the country.

As in many south east Asian countries, the people we met were all warm and friendly. Perhaps it has something to do with the hot and steamy climate - if you don't have an easy going personality, you'll just be miserable because the weather will make you cranky. At least it did for us - it was HOT. Luckily, Patch still needs at least a 2.5 hour nap every day after lunch, so we had an enforced siesta time right at the peak of the heat. If only Wm would nap, too ... then we all could have slept :)

For all the talk about a closed regime, many people volunteered to talk about politics without even being asked. I never heard anything critical of the government, now that I think about it, but I did hear and see much in support of the opposition leader, whose party reportedly won 43 of 44 seats in a by-election held the day we arrived. The front page of the English newspaper every day had at least three articles of what the president was doing - but world news was reported on the inside pages (my favorite news source quoted? "Online." Whatever that means!). I can't speak to what the Burmese/Myanma papers report - the alphabet is even more curly-qued than Telugu!

Of course, for any foreign service officer, we can't help but evaluate if we'd like a posting there. I think our initial impression is that we'd probably have a fun tour if we ended up there, but we're not sure if it's a place we'd seek out. Benefits:  lots of interesting culture and history to learn; small expat community, so if you like your embassy coworkers and the few other expats with NGOs or schools and such, we'd have an easy time meeting people (Manila is so big and spread out - it's hard here); concerns about personal safety were very low; traffic not very bad. Drawbacks: the isolation; limited availability / high cost of import goods (though we found Skippy peanut butter, so Patch was happy -- and all the fruits and vegetables we ate were delicious, so maybe we wouldn't miss things too much); spotty internet access. 

Manila & Holy Week

Holy week here is like Thanksgiving week in the U.S. I didn't notice it last year, I think, because we had only just arrived in Manila. Everything was new and different, so I had no reference to what was "normal."

Next week, though, in my office of 12, I think four will be at work - everyone else is on vacation. And trying to schedule meetings this past week with Filipino counterparts was next to impossible: everyone is about to head out and no one wants to start something new. Eventually, I just gave up on the external parts of my job, focusing on the things I could do within my own office.

You'd expect traffic would have started to calm down this week - but you'd be wrong. Everyone seems to be zipping around for last minute shopping in the city before heading back to the provinces next week. The newspaper reports that the police are increasing duty for Monday - Wednesday next week and that the traffic patterns are being altered to facilitate migration out of the city as everyone heads to the provinces. Come Thursday, Manila will be a relative ghost town.

One benefit of staying in town: travel time is at a minimum. Except on Thursday and Friday there's no where to go! Everything will be closed, except the outdoor displays for the Stations of the Cross, with families doing their devotions together. So, one can't take advantage of the clear streets.

By Saturday some places are open, and Sunday it's full swing. I asked last year why everything was open on Sunday - which, in my point of view, should be the holy day. A Filipino coworker explained to me: "Sunday is the happy day because Jesus rose again - and when we're happy, we like to go shopping and eat out."   

two big changes

Though 2012 was off to a good blogging start, I got distracted. I do, however, have a good excuse, since in February we were sorting out two big changes -- both of which we found out about on February first, coincidentally. 

#1. The HR office way back in Washington, DC (yes, sometimes we do remember that we have a big HQ back there) reassigned me to the political section. Another junior officer had decided the foreign service just wasn't a good fit for her, leaving her job unfilled. Though various rumors swirled about how and who would fill it, in the end, the bureaucracy decided: me. The reason they gave? I'm an economic-coned officer who has done three years of consular work and have a similar transfer date to the officer who left. Meaning, the position would be good for my career development and - perhaps more importantly? - assigning me to the position wouldn't disrupt the people flow too much (though it did leave the consular section down one person right as busy season is peaking).

As I was talking with the HR officer at post about my reassignment, she finally thought to ask - are you OK with this? Most people just assume that junior officers will hate consular work ... but in truth, though I've certainly had my bad days, I didn't mind it. It's not where I'd like to spend a career - but found enough projects over the last three years to keep me engaged and intellectually interested. 

I actually am happy with the reassignment as it moves me closer to what I want to do - and five years of doing something other than what I want to do would be a really long time. But, just to play devil's advocate, I asked what would happen if I wasn't. The HR officer answered truthfully: not much since you serve at the needs of the service. She supposed under extenuating circumstances I could appeal, but we didn't get into the theoretical, since I had another appointment. My new job started mid-Feb. 

#2. My next appointment ... revealed that we're having a third baby. I had been suspecting something was up (after all, I've been pregnant twice before), but not having any "normal" early pregnancy signs, I wasn't sure. The weekend before, I had purchased a pregnancy test at the corner drug store for $2. Yes, $2. These things cost $15 in the US, so I wasn't sure if I could trust it. 

Turns out, I couldn't. The little line that's supposed to appear if you're pregnant? It was dashed. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe I was pregnant? Yes, well, I already knew I was maybe pregnant.  Not wanting to waste any money on a second dashed line, I just made an appointment with an OB. She found an embryo with a heart beat and ... well ... there were the beginnings of  Baby Number Three, floating around happily. 

That evening, Greg summed it up: "Pam, if you have any more surprises hiding up your sleeve, you might as well let me know now. Just rip the band-aid off all at once!" 

So, the last six weeks I've been swimming up stream learning about my new job, figuring out how to best arrange for the birth of #3 (I'll deliver in the US this time, given the proximity of my due date to my sister's wedding), and still trying to get repairs on our condo complete so we can rent it out in a timely fashion. 

Just this week I feel like I have a good mental grip on what's going on: I've written a few memos for work with good feedback from my boss; the lease for our temporary rental in Capitol Hill is signed for August - October; and the contractor is supposed to start repairing our floor on Monday. 

Keeping fingers crossed we have no more big surprises before our time in Manila is up. This last month and a half was a little too much at once.

Milk

Any expat who relies on imported food grocery stores will lament how products appear and disappear, with no warning or reason. In HYD, though we pretty much ate veg on the local market, I'd still make it a point to walk through Q-Mart once a month just to see what was there that I couldn't live with out. If a shipment of Tostios arrived (or Dr Pepper to have on hand for my mother in law) - friends would all SMS each other so each of us could get a coveted bag before the supply ran out. After all, it might be one week or six months until the next shipment came.

In Manila, I haven't found the stocking fluctuations quite so dramatic. My one big food splurge is milk imported from California. The box UHT milk is fine for cereal and baking ... but doesn't quite cut it for drinking in a glass.  I'll manage if I have to (which I did in HYD), but I figure if the taste I'm accustomed to is available, I'm going to buy it while I can. Since the import store near our house always had rows and rows of it, I figured this milk was one of the staples always in stock.

Imagine my shock in February when one month passed and still no sign of my loved California milk. Nada. I tried in vain asking the checkout ladies. Eventually, I must have seen distressed enough because she called over a manager, who took my mobile number and promised to SMS when the stock arrived. I couldn't believe it one week later when I actually received an SMS - I went to the store right that night after work. I was glad I did, because the stock was so small ... but based on the expiry date, I could only buy 1.5 gallons.

Sadly, when those precious three cartons were drunk, the stock has not returned. And the manager doesn't know when it will. No more hot milk in the evenings for me: UHT milk tastes even more funky when warmed.

Today, imagine my surprise, when I went to Hypermarket, a store which carries mostly local brands, but has a few international items scattered about (though the international items are never reliably in stock), and found milk imported from Washington state! I only bought a quart, not sure how it would be - after all, my first month here I bought some spoiled chicken at this store, which has made me a bit nervous about food quality there. But, first sample tonight tastes great.

Hypermarket, if you keep this Darigold milk in stock, you will be my go-to. S&R, it's been fun, but until you restock California milk, you'll become my monthly - not weekly - stop.