After arriving early into Nyaung Shwe by bus, us tourists hopped into the back of the only waiting tuk tuk (more like a pick-up truck) and were carted off to our various guest houses – but not before being forced to pay a hefty Government enforced “entrance fee” to the Inle Lake area at a very non-official “booking office” (read: wooden shack with hand-made looking sign). We were not sure that this was legitimate and still aren’t; the entire time we were here in the town the ticket was never checked by anyone…
Arriving at our guest house, we found ourselves situated right on the riverbank that leads out to Inle Lake; it offered us a great view of all the boats and boatmen. In other words, the roaring sound of loud motors from the hundreds of passing boats was incessant. The chugging, choking and putting of motors, coupled with the serious renovations happening in and around our guest house, made for one very noisy visit to Nyaung Shwe. But it didn’t matter in the slightest; we were here at last.
Whist Jake decided to have a nap, I headed straight up the dusty street to the large local morning market where I went in search and eventually found sticky rice, fried bean curd and a cabbage/garlic/chilli/coriander/unpressed bean curd/oil dressing. Sticky rice and tofu salad: it’s my new favourite here in Myanmar.
The local people seemed a little unsure about having a foreigner in the market buying the local foods, but Nyaung Shwe is a touristic place so I doubt I’m the first… It took a long time for me to actually purchase the foods; not because I couldn’t find what I wanted, or because there were long queues, but more so because it seemed pretty clear that the locals didn’t actually want to serve me and were more interested in staring at me blatantly, then ignoring me, serving anyone and everyone else who came by after me and then laughing with each other and gesturing their hands towards me.
When I did eventually stand up for myself and make sure my order was finally heard and acknowledged, I received even more odd looks, a lot more laughing and some pointing too.
I understand I look different and that I probably don’t order the right thing in the right way, that I speak a different language and that I’m a tourist, but…
Back at the room, Jake and I ate our market breakfast on our little pattio and soaked up the serenity around us, mostly in the form of sounds: banging hammers, electronic saws, construction workers shouting and the endless grating of boat motors.
Nyaung Shwe – I like you.
Trying to decide what to do today and feeling as though it was already “too late” to begin a full day boat trip out onto the late (we wanted to see the sun rise and it was already well after 9am) we thought about possibly taking a half-day boat trip out onto Inle Lake to see the sun set. However, we really did want a full-day and the opportunity to see the sun both rise and fall over the lake.
Still deliberating about today’s plans, we walked into town to explore the area and find a lassi shop. We coincidentally ran into Matt who also had plans to take a boat tour the following day, so we decided the three of us would hire a boat and boatman for the full day tomorrow, starting at the beautiful hour of 6am. Too easy! We had the full day today to explore and enjoy… and, seeing as every tourist – and there were lots – had their ass parked on a bike seat, maybe hire some bikes.
We did a few mundane things in town for the morning that involved checking out prices for boats, different routes etc., checking prices for buses to Yangon, changing more US dollars for Burmese Kyats and doing a heap of washing back at our room. We converted our balcony into a washing line by tying our piece of rope around the balcony posts at several different angles and draping our sopping clothes over it in the direct sun light.
I love being a backpacker.
In the afternoon Jake and I hired a couple of bikes (this time Jake managed not to break his) and attempted to ride out to a near by tofu bean-curd village, supposedly a 30 minute or so ride away.
It was not 30 minutes away, that’s for sure. Maybe by Myanmar standards it’s 30 minutes away… and by 30 minutes, they mean more than an hour. Not that this mattered, of course, we had a lot of time to enjoy, however it did mean we underestimated the ride and how far we could go before the sun would set…
The road out to the tofu village was incredibly bumpy and in such a poor condition that made riding along it a lot more fun. When we weren’t concentrating on avoiding massive pot holes or ensuring we didn’t break our necks in the process, we attempted to negotiate road side dwelling water buffalo, hundreds of motorbikes, tractors, construction vehicles, road workers, fellow tourists on bikes and the occasional stray dog… all the while, trying to soak in some of the most spectacular rural and mountainous scenery. It was stunning and by bike was the best way to see it.
We continued riding for more than fifty minutes; heading out over the pot holes, up gravel and dirt tracks, through spectacular scenery and past one very cute albino water buffalo grazing on the road side, we were still no where near (or maybe we were?) the tofu village… After passing the third construction site where road side workers in thongs negotiated bull dozers and all sorts of hazardous conditions, we were at a loss to where we actually were. Clearly, the map we had wasn’t as ‘to scale’ as we thought…
As it started to get close to dusk, we were still not in tofu heaven and decided to give in; there was no way I was attempting to ride back to our guest house in the dark on those roads – with no lights on my bike or along the roads, I was sure I’d either hit a pot hole, a buffalo or a motorist and never be seen again.
After an hours ride out, we’d definitely missed out on the “30 minute ride away” tofu village. Perhaps the Burmese just ride a lot faster than us…
It ended up being about a two hour bike ride, which I was pretty chuffed about. I really enjoy riding around, it’s pretty easy – although pretty hairy and stressful at times – and the fact that almost every second person is on a bike makes it somehow more enjoyable. I like the relaxed “bike culture,” you could say. Back in town, we headed straight up the main street for the so-called “night market.” There were only a couple of stalls – all food – with no customers and prices that were pretty expensive compared to other parts of the town, so we gave it a miss and headed back to our guest house to drop off the bikes.
Heading back into town, funnily enough we ran into Matt again so we stopped for a quick chit-chat and confirmed tomorrows plans before continuing up the main street.
We’d decided to do something “unique” here in Nyaung Shwe tonight and go to see the only traditional Burmese Marionette Puppet Show in town; it sounded ‘cute,’ shall we say, so we decided to experience it for ourselves.
A 20-odd minute walk up the main street and we found ourselves in the tiny garage of a local man’s home, where a home-made puppet theatre had been set up and a heap of plastic chairs. From the walls and ceilings hung several intense-looking wooden puppets of all different sizes and figures. Whilst the man collected our 3,000 kyats each for the 20-minute performance, a little boy helped to lower the stage curtain.
A couple of mosquito coils were lit, the lights in the garage were turned off and the door shut, the guy next to us had a beer in-hand from the pub down the road and the Burmese-style show began…
The following 20 minutes were interesting – unique, even – to say the least and once we had endured a very strange recording about Burmese marionette puppetry and the history, the little man began to jump and dance around on the home-made theatre stage to various musical numbers with some very intricate movements and very interesting wooden puppets. He was skilled, absolutely, and it was pretty ‘cute’ to experience this. “Cute” really does seem to be the best word to describe this whole event; it was innocent and ‘homely,’ in a way.
Once the puppet show was over and we left without feeling the need to purchase one of the hanging wooden string puppets as a souvenir, we attempted to find a non-tourist place for dinner. Unsuccessful, we decided to re-try the night market now that it was later in the hope that there would be more stalls. We later regretted our decision.
On arrival back at the market there were indeed a couple more stalls and a few reasonably prices dishes so we found a place that looked somewhat reliable and we ordered from the menu “Vegetarian Claypot with noodles.”
In true classic Asian style…the dish came out with two very large steaming, very non-vegetarian chicken feel draped over noodles and a few bits of limp carrot. Foolishly I took it back to the stall operator and explained I wanted vegetarian (really, I should’ve learned my lesson by now) so, what did she do? Whipped out a couple of chop sticks and poked them around in the clay pot, fished out a bit of chicken feet here and there, then handed it back. Put off by the limp, bubbly skin of those boney, boiled talons, needless to say I didn’t eat much. What I did eat wasn’t that good, either…
It really seems food in Myanmar is hit-or-miss. Tonight was definitely a miss.
After a long, sleepless bus ride last night and a day of adventure, pot holes and puppetry today, both of us were almost asleep by 10pm – despite the sound of churning boat motors and construction that was still going on. We’ve got another early start tomorrow and a full day on Inle Lake. This has been a day we’ve been waiting for and I seriously can’t wait!