Bagan, Myanmar – The Burmese Holy Lands

December 9th, 2002

Travel to Myanmar begins with a flight to Yangon, the capital city (pop. 4 million). My first impression of the country formerly known as Burma, is that it was amazingly western in its present infrastructure, having been built by the British in the 19th century. Since you will most likely be spending the night here, an advisable site to see is the Shwedagon Pagoda. This is the largest pagoda in the world and happens to be coated in 24ct gold.
Next, we caught our morning flight to Bagan, a city shrouded in mystery and steeped in tradition and culture. Bagan was founded as a stopover point on the Indo-China caravan route, and as Buddhist culture stretched out from India, Bagan developed into what is now one of the most important archaeological sites in all of Asia.
The 5000+ pagodas here can be imagined as a decentralized Angkor Wat, as there was no central focal point for the construction of the temples. This geographical arrangement, therefore, requires exploration tactics that are tempered as much by logistics as by creativity.
My mates and I opted for the triple-B triathalon; we biked, boated and ballooned ourselves across the vast expanse of pagodas that date as far back as 850 AD. Puzzling, was the fact that no single photograph or locale could provide us with the grandeur that encapsulated all of Bagan. Only perhaps, when we reached the perched terrace of a local distinguished resort, did we truly appreciate the luminous glow of the pagodas amongst the forest, encircled by the distant mountainous jungles. The Jack Daniels might have had something to do with it at that point as well.
The relatively expensive flights were offset by the extremely cheap mementos and food, and we thus decided to splurge on the accommodation. After the view from the terrace, we were irresistible to its charm. Staying at the Bagan Golf Resort, we each had our own private pagoda-like structures, as our not-so humble abodes. In the evenings, we enjoyed the cultural shows put on in the resort’s village, accompanied by cuisine that made ‘delectable’ an understatement.
The Burmese people were some of the friendliest and most accommodating I had ever met in Asia, and it is folly to associate the doings of a country’s (un-elected) government with the intentions of its average citizens. They are predominantly devout Theravada Buddhists, although there is a small proportion of Christians and Muslims in Myanmar. The people of Bagan inherit their way of life from ancestors who lived along the Ayerwaddy River long before the coming of foreigners like Marco Polo, who was the first westerner to document the archaeological splendor of Bagan. I saw groups of people bathing along the riverbanks just as they would have thousands of years earlier. In many ways, the turmoil that has surrounded Myanmar has been the biggest preserver of its cultural heritage, staving off the insidious spread of McDonalds and Starbucks to every street corner.
After thoroughly enjoying the venerable feel of the temples, we decided a shakeup was in order, so we headed up to the jungles on Mt. Popa, about 1.5 hours by car from Bagan.
After a rather treacherous commute on a road that really should not be two ways, we arrived at a Jungle lodge that overlooked a magnificent outcropping of rock that stood perhaps 400m from the forest canopy. Majestically perched atop the outcropping, was a stately monastery, with gold accents and a staircase that should have been featured in the ‘Buns of Steel’ video. Along the climb we were hounded incessantly by locals trying to sell us various items we didn’t need, and 40 or so harassing monkeys who suspiciously resembled the primate from the movie ‘Outbreak’. We finished the day with another trek into the jungle, this time on horseback a la Indiana Tang, and then a bit of Karaoke with the Lodge’s manager. My ghastly rendition of Michael Jackson’s Bad finally, and unanimously, adjourned the evening.
After making our way back to the Bagan airport and boarding a truly derelict airplane, I reminisced over the sights, sounds and feelings I had just experienced in my travels around Myanmar. The memory that stood out the most was not one of an intricate temple, of a goose bump inducing jungle spider, or of a friendly child monk helping me along an unsteady trail with my 50lb. bicycle. Those thoughts all blended together harmoniously into a pleasant and heartwarming sigh of fulfillment. The memory that stood out, did so like a blackened lesion of gangrene on pale virgin skin, and that was of my prejudice towards the people of Myanmar. My bias was based on the actions of few, and led to misconceptions about the aims of most Burmese people toward travelers. I know that there have been many horror stories of persons going to Myanmar, and I do not dispute that they need to be known. However, my own tale is one of comfort, security and the ability to marvel on my part, and of unsurpassed hospitality on the part of the people in Myanmar.

*Note – There are a great number resources to explain the political and humanitarian issues involved with Myanmar, therefore, they will not be described here. I hope to bring back to attention, the natural and cultural beauty found in Myanmar.

Entry Filed under: Travel