The end and the beginning

Here we are, in Bangkok one last time before we head home. Our flight leaves for Vancouver tomorrow morning, early, and we are well and truly pooped.

For the past couple of weeks, we have been enjoying Northern Thailand. In my opinion, we ended this trip in the best way possible - doing as little as possible surrounded by the most beautiful scenery possible and the friendliest people possible.

As such, we have been meandering around Chiang Mai and the tiny Mae Sariang. We haven't been doing much except reading, exploring some of the local countryside, chatting with the locals and casually preparing for our return home. It has been truly restful and has launched me, in particular, into major nesting mode. I just can't wait to get home and get settled, hang up my clothes and take a nice long bath to contemplate everything that has happened over the past year.

Northern Thailand is beautiful. There is a lot more vegetation and everything is so lush and green. There are waterfalls everywhere and the people are incredibly kind. We started in Chiang Mai, the second largest city in Thailand. It has a touristy old part of town within ancient walls (the original moat filled with water still surrounds them) and a walkable area outside them. We found it the perfect place to hit some hip cafes, see a couple of movies and do a bit of shopping - filling up what little space we had left in our packs.

We also checked out the incredible Sunday market that goes on until the wee hours of the morning every Sunday and is absolutely packed with people and fun and funky things - yummy snacks, cool clothes, neat knick-knacks (not the usual tourist crap that you see in every city of every county you visit - although there is some of that too just in case, this time, you want it). It was like a humungous craft sale/flea market/street festival. There were so many people it felt like St.Patrick's Day in Montreal.

There is also a nice night market where performances are put on every evening. It's always nice to see a bit of traditional Thai culture, even if it's only put on for the tourists. Finally, we couldn't leave Chiang Mai without hitting the mall. I think it's the first mall we've been in in months. But, that's where the movie theatre is and, as we discovered, some amazing deals on shoes (and the now needed extra carry-on bag). They also have these fun little karaoke pods. Karaoke is huge in Thailand, as it is in much of the rest of Asia. In the mall in Chiang Mai, you and your friends can rock out in your very own private karaoke booth. They were jam packed with super enthusiastic future Asian Idols.

Aside from wandering around the markets, Rich and I decided to take the opportunity to learn some stuff. I took a Thai cooking class so I could learn to make all those Thai dishes that always make my mouth water at the thought of them. I can't wait to try out my new culinary skills back home. Now I just have to find a decent Asian market in Ottawa... While I was busy chopping and sizzling, Rich arranged to take private lessons from a blind Thai massage therapist. He learned all kinds of crazy techniques and new treatments that he can unleash on his patients back home which he learned from Nut (pronounced "not"). Things that make you go "POP!". He even got this nifty certificate and made a great new friend. It was really amazing to see how he "looked" at you by using his hands, just like a seeing person would size someone up visually.

We opted out of taking any tours from Chiang Mai, partly because they weren't offering what we wanted and partly out of exhaustion. We're touristed out. Instead, we decided to spend the last few days of our trip at a lesser known place called Mae Sariang. Usually it gets a couple of lines in guidebooks but doesn't draw the same crowds that Mae Hon Song gets. Right up our alley. We got a beautiful breezy room in an all-wood house overlooking the river and essentially lazed about for a few days. There were hardly any other tourists and when they did come into town, they usually left the next day.

Mae Sariang was like unwinding an elastic that had been twisted on itself to maximum capacity. It was the most amazing feeling. I haven't ever felt that relaxed before and I'm not sure we'll feel that relaxed again for a long, long time.
We spent our days enjoying some of the books we had brought with us, playing chess (Rich is the undefeated champion - not surprising since, as much as I like chess, I lack the patience for it), strolling around the area and chatting with the locals. We checked out some of the tours being offered and, deciding that none of them fit the bill, ended up renting someone's pickup truck for the day and going off on our own. Our goal was Mae Surin falls further to the North. The drive was spectacular and the rain, which made us pat ourselves on the backs for wisely opting out of renting motorbikes, made everything look alive and intense. Once arrived, the rain disappeared and we were free to hike around without getting wet. It was pretty chilly nonetheless as we were high up in the mountains but this gave the air a freshness that had us savouring every breath. The falls were beautiful and there were loads of little plants and critters on every tree branch and under every rock. We were alone, and definitely not alone. On the way home, we stopped at some hotsprings thinking we would warm up with a little dip. They were in a beautiful setting with farmer's fields all around and I couldn't wait to feel the warmth. I dipped an exploratory toe in and yelped like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. OK. When they say hotsprings here, they mean hot. So, no dip for us (that's ok, it smelled like rotten eggs anyhow) but we warmed up alot just being close to the springs. And with that, we jumped back in the pickup and headed back to Mae Sariang. A wonderful day that left us feeling grounded and at peace.

Mae Sariang is very small. You can easily walk around town and you only have to turn the corner from the few touristy hotels to get back to authentic Thai cuisine. Our favourite haunt was Mama's. Her restaurant is not called this (it's called something unintelligible in Thai) but this is how she referred to herself (in the 3rd person) and how we came to refer to her. She has about 3 words of English (which beats our 2 words of Thai) and we went back time and again to partake in mimed conversation and her amazing food - finally not dulled down for tourists. We found that even when we asked for things to be spicy in a tourist restaurant, the food would come back bland and completely without heat. Before leaving, we stopped in to pick up a meal to bring with us on the 12-hour bus ride to Bangkok and we left with that, big hugs all around and some little extras thrown in for good measure. Our Thai mama.

Our time in Mae Sariang allowed us to really take stock of what has happened over the past year. This trip has meant so much to both of us. We have changed in ways that we have difficulty describing and we have learned so much more than we had even hoped. The value of a smile. The value of looking at things in the light of day. That it doesn't matter what a person's intention truly is - if you assume it's genuine, you end up with a genuine experience (even if the original intent was not). You don't have to see everything or do everything - sometimes you see or experience more just by staying put. Humans are remarkably adaptable. Kids are amazing all over the world. And, a year is a long time and no time at all.

Here we are, at the end of this particular adventure feeling as though we've done a good job. We're tired, but in a good way. We feel grounded and peaceful. We have made friends and memories that will keep us thinking and wondering. What more could a person ask for?

Would we do this again? Absolutely. Just let us rest for a bit first...

Vietnamese special sauce - secret revealed

Vietnam's most beautiful beach is just 15 minutes from Danang's city centre. We don't know what it looks like. There is a monumental pagoda just 7 km South of town. We never saw it. There are supposed to be some great day trips from here also. But we don't have time. We're too busy working, socializing and NOT being tourists. It's finally happened, we want to avoid the very people we have been for the last 11 months. The traveling westerner. I fool myself thinking that because we work here and have Vietnamese friends, the locals look past our pasty white skin. "Motobai?" "You wan Taxi?" "Where you go?" "I help you fren". Think again. But not all locals pester us. My favorite is the 65 year old lady who sits quietly on a bench facing the river pondering life, until we approach her on our morning run. When she sees us, she instantly comes to life with a grin from ear to ear and flaps her bingo arms into a clapping frenzy above her head to cheer us on as if it were an iron man race. Her face beams happiness and somehow, we run faster because of it. We feel accepted.

Jo has managed an almost impossible feat. She has taught her English class not to say "hop-si-tal", "Pee-scip-shun" and "tweet-men". I on the other hand still find myself staring when I see patients trying on different sizes of brown glass eye balls until the right one "pops" in for a good fit. I did manage to learn enough Vietnamese to treat and evaluate independently. This usually provided great entertainment for the other patients and their families. In a fantastic show of support, every patient has 2 and sometimes 3 family members that come to assist their treatment. Some just bring them lunch, while others change their clothes, wash them and sleep under their hospital bed in case they need something during the night. Many patients are poor rice farmers who live in the highland and have nothing more than the clothes on their back. Comparatively, I laugh at what I previously thought was a "supportive family member" back home. This hospital provides countless Vietnamese with extensive surgery and therapy at no cost to the patient. Unlce Ho's vision seems inherently practical and really does help those who need it most. I am incredibly greatful to the talented Dr. Do Van Thanh, orthopedic surgeon, who allowed me to learn from him and spent so much of his precious time teaching me about his work, his beliefs and his people.

We spent last weekend in central Vietnam with our good friend Dr. Ha in his home town of Hue. Sporting glasses and a merry belly, his name fits him well. In between his quickly worded, poorly pronounced English phrases he never forgets to punctuate with a spurt of laughter. This usually makes us smile wide and wonder if he said "pens" or "penis". He has the habit of repeating the last 3 words of your sentence for practice but it makes you feel like you've got a Vietnamese echo happening. He says "Idunnooo" (I don't know) like it's a one syllable word and always follows it with a fit of giggles "HA HA HA HA HA HE HE HE!". We took the opportunity to visit his local haunts, down unmarked alleys, where some of the best food in all of Vietnam is served. For breakfast, we went to a small restaurant which served only one dish; fresh French loaves with eggs, miscellaneous meat product, coleslaw and gravy in a cow shaped grill. The chef's finishing touch is a delicate blob of pate pile next to the cow's bum. We gobbled it up ignoring the fact that we were the only two whities there. The 12 inch high, plastic Fisher Price stools helped hide our tell tale skin colour. The local food is delicious as to be expected. But savouring it's flavours also means looking past the pesky, time-wasting things called sanitary practices. Outside our restaurant, the cooks prepared shrimp and herbs in small plastic bowls which often allowed street juice from the over flowing sewers to blend with the "special sauce". While this often gives the food a certain "je ne sais quoi", it usually gives my GI tract another little bug to work out. We've smiled and crunched our way though fish head hot pot, chicken bone soup, chicken cartilage, skin and chicken back rice, pork stomach, cooked blood, cow tendon, and now street juice marinated shrimp. Some things you just can't put a price on. Anti-biotics for instance... are priceless.

While working at the hospital over the last 4 weeks, we've witnessed the devastating effects of motorcycle accidents when the driver didn't wear a helmet. Unfortunately, less than 1% of inner city motorcycle drivers wears a helmet. There are about 150 motorcycles for every car. There are no stop lights, no roundabouts and certainly none of those polite "no-you go first" gestures. Bikes just speed into intersections weaving with and against on-coming traffic while pedestrians walk though slowly, praying to the traffic god that the drivers see them and swerve. At first, we outright refused to go near a bike with out a helmet. Then we agreed to get on one only if they drove very slowly and very carefully. Having no other option and no common language, we eventually ended up at regular speed on moto-taxis with no helmet. But this weekend, all head injury caution was thrown out the window.

Our weekend in Hue was set against a backdrop of torrential rains that flooded our guesthouse. Just a few drops for the average Vietnamese motorbike driver. We thought it was a spectacular storm. Jo and I sat on the back of Ha and Du's bikes and crouched down with their extra long poncho flapped over our heads and backs to save from getting wet. We had no way to see forward, no way to see which way to lean and no advanced warning when we were going to go over sidewalks, through puddles or swerve around that oncoming truck. I can say the idea of a safety bubble burst many times over. When in Rome!

Back in Danang, we made a quick trip to the post office to send off a package of gifts from the hospital staff. Happy that our packs were as light as can be, we had no idea that on our last day there, we would get 4 more gifts weighing in at 15 pounds! These people were so generous it was hard to leave. I felt as though my body was also making it harder for us to leave. With only 5 days left in Vietnam, we made the switch once again to being tourists. In a message that felt like punishment for quitting the routine of normal life, on the day we were to catch an 18 hour train ride to Ho Chi Minh City, I got food poisoning. In the space of four hours, I lost 2 and 1/2 litres of fluid out both ends. It felt like there was a small fiesty squirrel in my stomach. I couldn't keep anything down and had the usual sketchy train toilets to look forward to. I took the valuable little pills I had been saving for just such a special occasion. As it turns out, our train was canceled, then delayed, then delayed again. Tired of waiting, we just jumped on the next train. "All trains go to Saigon!" No one ever checked our tickets and of course, the toilet was exactly as I had anticipated.

While waiting for the train, we made fast friends with a couple of Londoners, Alexis and Phil. We shared a train car, food and of course travel stories. In Saigon the four of us did the pre-requisite shopping and took in some night life. As tourism-weary as we are, we couldn't pass up a visit to Cu Chi. This is a complex of tunnels dug during the "American" war which were used by the Vietnamese soldiers to travel over 200 kms underground - some of them went right under American bases. We listened to video narrative which described impressive propaganda mixed with jaw dropping accounts of human tragedy. We even got a chance to squeeze into a tunnel entrance that I found impressively small. And this one was made 40% bigger to allow Westerners to fit in.

Jo and I also made a point of checking out the Museum of Vietnamese Traditional Medicine. Inside this 5 story wooden house, there were 26 rooms dedicated to displaying artifacts and the history of 2500 years of Vietnamese medicine. There was an impressive array of viles, herbs, clay pots and manuscripts from centuries past describing the very same medicine used by doctors today. It felt like a doorway into the past. A chance, for those who are interested, to get a glimpse of how Asian medicine was developed. This very same record of compounds, is now the basis of the billion dollar pharmaceutical industry. For those who aren't really into Asian medicine, it's just a house that's hard to find, filled with a bunch of old stuff. I found it fascinating.

After spending a month in this country, meeting her people, eating their food and working along side them, it is inspiring to see people who have been consistently underestimated, aspiring with confidence for future greatness. Despite their economic situation they celebrate life in style. On the morning of our last day in Ho Chi Minh city, we watched a funeral celebration with a live brass band that forced you to tap your feet. If we closed our eyes, we could have been in New Orleans. As we leave this place for the last leg of our trip, we raise a small glass of warm beer with a huge ice cube and say "Ho Chi Minh!".

Smells like peanut butter, tastes like fish

Today is Rich's birthday - and what a day he had!

First, I guess I'd better explain where we are. For starters, we're in Vietnam. For our time here, we wanted to do something different to round out the experiences we have had so far. Since we are so grateful for everything this trip has given us, we thought that volunteering would be the best way to give back a bit.

Initially, we had tried looking at organizations who coordinate volunteers with placements. They provide language lessons, orientation sessions and a contact person abroad - they also charge whopping amounts of money - not exactly the kind of philanthropy we were looking for. Given that Rich and I feel pretty oriented already and confident in our language learning abilities, we wanted to see if we could set up a volunteer experience with an organization directly and skip the middle man. This way it would cost us less and the host organization would receive just as much, or more, benefit. Thanks to Rich's master sleuthing, we now find ourselves in the middle of an amazing experience. We are volunteering at the Danang Orthopedic Rehabilitation Centre in the middle of Vietnam. Rich is volunteering his skills as a therapist and lecturing the surgeons, doctors, nurses and physiotherpists on various skills and I am teaching the staff English and helping write grant proposals.

Teaching English is quite a challenge here. I was told I would be teaching for an hour every day. What I thought I said in response to this was "holy crap". How it came out was "Great! Sounds like fun!". I tried to understand in advance where people were in their language learning and where they wanted to go. With little to go on except that they wanted to learn "medical English", I decided to gauge the current level myself on the first day. I asked, in my slowest, clearest English, "How-many-of-you-understand-what-I-am-saying-right-now? Raise-your-hand". One hand went up. Panic set in. My challenge, then, was to teach technical English to people without a good comprehension of the language. No problem. Of course, there are no resources here either. No text books to follow, no notes from previous teachers (because there haven't been any) , and no teaching experience from their current teacher - me. If I say so myself, the classes are going amazingly well. Thank god I have access to the internet now! My class is getting bigger and bigger every day and people are really advancing. When I asked them if 5 classes a day was too much, they were adamant that they wanted to come every day. Their energy and enthusiasm is really contagious and I leave the class every day with a huge smile on my face.

Danang is a great little town in the middle of Vietnam. It's close to the water which we love since we get lots of fresh seafood and a beautiful place to run in the mornings. It does tend to give some foods a distinctly fishy flavour though (hence the title of this post). We've been fooled once or twice and have now learned not to trust our noses too much.

And so, after 3 weeks volunteering here at the Centre and 1 more week to go, Rich and I have developed some real friendships. That was clear today at the party we had for Rich's birthday. The party was supposed to be a surprise but, well, the word "surpsise" didn't quite make it through the language barrier. Right after everyone was invited, Rich was bombarded with merry-makers saying "Reechad! Tomorrow your berday! We have surprise party!" (imagine hand smacking forehead here...). Nonetheless, the party was great. It was so amazing to be surrounded by all these smiling faces and to know each one of them personally. It made it even more special when everyone sang this beautiful song about frienship and peace in Vietnamese. I think Rich listened to it about 5 times before going back to work. It made it really special. To top things off, it turned out that Rich shared his birthday with one of the doctors at the Centre too, Dr. Vu, so we turned it into a joint birthday party and it was twice the fun!



As we are nearing the end of our trip, we are finding this the perfect transition. We are working, but not overly. We have a little apartment at the Centre so we can make a lot of our own food. We can actually hang up our clothes rather than go pack-diving whenever we want to change our clothes and we're back to running every day. Having a daily routine has been very therapeutic for us. A bit of a balm for our travel weary bodies.

If that wasn't enough, this experience has really allowed us to get to know the Vietnamese better. We say hello to the same people as we run in the morning, shop at the fruit market or buy our bread. They are starting to expect us. Plus, we are making friends with many of the staff at the Centre. In fact, our social calendar is filling up fast!

We have already been to a Vietnamese wedding - what an extravaganza! It was somewhat like a rock concert with smoke machines, confetti explosions, musical acts - the works. Did I mention that the guests (there are usually about 400) are invited to contribute their own musical act? As the only foreigners in the room (made even more apparent as we were literally pointed out by other guests), we were asked if we would like to sing. I think the highly distressed looks on our faces was answer enough... This, a seven course meal, the men all downing copious amount of beer (encouraged by the well-loved English phrase "bottoms up!" - also applied at Rich's birthday party) and the parading of the happy couple across the stage with their parents, pretty much sums it up - and it's all over by 7pm. It all happened so fast that we were left wondering if it happened at all. It was a great experience though and we felt very privileged to have been invited.

At the wedding we met a sports physician who works with the Danang soccer team. He invited us to see a soccer game so we got a behind the scenes look at one of Vietnam's favourite passions - and Rich didn't even have to tape any ankles! Before going into the stadium, they dump your water bottle into a plastic baggie, stick an elastic around the top and give you a straw lest you allow your passion overwhelm you and start throwing your bottles on the playing field. Luckily there are literally dozens of military men fully decked out in riot gear in case someone happens to get their plastic bottles past the gate security. The Danang team is #2 in their league and they played well despite having lost one of their best players to a double yellow card. They didn't manage to pull off the win but fought like champions. The weather in the evenings in Danang is amazing which made watching sports in an open stadium that much better. We miss watching live sports alot.

We were also invited on a weekend field trip with a youth group that includes some members of the staff here. Yay! We're still "youth"! Although, maybe we're supposed to provide entertainment... They did say "come and make funny". We assumed this meant "come and have fun" but maybe we should look into that after our experience at the wedding...

Aside from our social engagements, we have managed to get away to Hoi An to discover the magic that is Vietnamese tailors. Hoi An is dangerously close to Danang (only 40 minutes) and is the mecca of Vietnamese tailoring. It is amazingly high quality at extremely reasonable prices. They can make anything. You can bring in a photo from a fashion mag and they just whip it all up for you - in a day. Do I need to tell you how the thought of this makes me perspire? Let's just say that I had a weekend of joyousness in Hoi An. I threw fabrics in the air while people measured me and we ate fruit and champage and the band played and, well not really - but that's what it felt like. Pure happiness.

With only a little over a week left in Vietnam, we are trying to make the most of every second. The time is flying by at warp speed and, at this rate, we'll be home before you know it.

Myanmar and the kissy noise

"Don't go to Myanmar. The government is corrupt. By traveling there, you'll give the government your money. The whole country is oppressed!" This is what we were told, and more, before we visited the country 47 million Burmese call home. You can't properly write a blog about Myanmar without talking about its recent history and history isn't everyone's favourite bedtime subject, so I'll try to keep it brief.

English colonial rule in Burma officially ended in 1948 after a fearless general Aung San almost single-handedly recruited and commandeered a Japanese trained Burmese independence army. Sadly, this national hero saw none of independent rule as he was gunned down along with 6 of his cabinet members by dissident party members just months before Independence came into effect. Following this, two coup d'etats ushered in fairly self-serving governments which were known mainly for their economic mismanagement. In 1988, the ruling government declared martial law to crush political protests and demands for democracy.

In May 1990, the government held free elections for the first time in almost 30 years. The National League for Democracy (NLD), the party of Aung San Suu Kyi, won 392 out of a total 489 seats. However, the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC) refused to relinquish power. Instead they put her, the daughter of the national hero Aung San, under house arrest. She has now spent 10 of the last 16 years under house arrest. This woman has dedicated her life to democracy in Myanmar and is the only Nobel Peace prize winner ever to receive her award while under house arrest. For her 62nd birthday the military junta gave her an extension of her arrest for another 12 months. Recent attempts from the UN, ASEAN, International Red Cross and others to have political prisoners released have been flatly ignored.

Government run television airs happy farmers claiming there is no forced labour in their village, while the newspapers run articles denying the ridiculous accusations that the SLORC is guilty of the human rights violations. Put plainly, the country is stifled by a poorly organized barbaric government that puts money in their pocket before it gives the most basic of services to its people.

That being said, there are lots of ways to enjoy traveling in Myanmar, meet locals and give your tourist money directly to them. Guidebooks list government run business with an exclamation mark and offer plenty of alternatives including privately owned airlines. We weighed the pros and cons and, if you're reading this blog, you already know how it turned out.

We have been traveling now for almost 11 months, so we were counting down the days before we got to meet 4 of our friends from Montreal. Dave, Jonathan, Jon and Etienne somehow coordinated their lives to meet up with us for a Myanmar adventure of sorts. It went a little something like this...

After meeting up with the boys in Yangon, we strolled our way across town to visit the Shwedagon Pagoda. If you were to imagine the largest golden buddhist temple, then add 10 or so smaller temples surounding it in a sort of Disney Land fashion, you'd have a bit of an idea. It's by far the most glamourous of temples we've seen to date and, from what we observed, it's very well cared for. While we were there, mopping teams of 30 people cleaned the tile floors by pushing a 45 foot mop on cue from their mop drill sergeant. Not your every day occurrance.

After eating in a few restaurants we realized that a now familiar sound kept being used to call the waiter's attention. It's the kissy noise you'd normally use to call your cat or dog. Given its usual Western usage, I was hesitant to make the noise at first. But when I realized that it's like an instant effortless 1-way pager to the closest waiter and they consider it completely normal, I used it en masse. I thought it was fantastic! Maybe I'll try to bring that culture to North American restaurants... or... maybe not.

We decided to take the bus up to Mandalay knowing it would only be a "short" 14 hour ride. As we quickly learned, travel by road frequently involves road side repairs. We stopped to help another bus change a tire using some make shift tools and a flashlight. Three quick hours later we were back on the road.

In Mandalay, we saw the theatrical group "The Moustache Brothers". They can only be described as comic stuntmen. In a country ruled by a harsh military junta, these comedians openly ridicule and chide their government using skits and English hand held signs. In 1996, two family members, U Lu Zaw and Par Par Lay were sentenced to seven years hard labour for voicing their right for freedom of speech against a corrupt governmnet. It was inspiring to see people who risk so much despite being burned in the past.

It's a little known fact that more tourists shave their head in Mandalay than any other major city in central Myanmar. In the short time we were there, Jon, Dave and Etienne all shaved their heads. We even met the famous Burmese actor, Duay, took his photo, and chatted with him at length. He tolerated our fussing over him surprisingly well. It was only after he left the shop that the barber told us he's not even an actor. Just a local guy in for a cut and thought he'd pull a fast one. Nicely done!

There are certain advantages to traveling in a group. Often you can save money by hiring a shared private taxi. The idea behind this is that you are more comfortable and you get to your destination faster than by bus. Jon negotiated the price like a seasoned vet and we were ready for the easy 6-7 hour ride down to Inle Lake.

Our expectations were still high as we realized that shared private taxi in Myanmar really means flat bed pick up. Still, we were up-beat singing songs and playing games to pass the time. Until the muffler fell off. After a quick 1-hour stop to weld it back on we were on our way... until of course, we got a flat tire. In their defense, it had been at least 45 minutes since the muffler repair. They were nice enough to stop at possibly the most scenic spot on our trip to change the tire. Then, after a leisurely dinner we were on the road again, that is until we had a second flat. We were understanding about the muffler and we laughed off the first flat, but after 9 hours of sharing a flat bed with 5 other Canadians, when they told us they forgot the tire iron at the last repair site 4 hours back, we kind of got a bit grumpy. Still the Canadian politeness in us shone through. We smiled while we watched our driver walk off into the night to see if he could wake someone up to borrow a tire iron. We finally lost our patience when he walked back and realized that the tool he borrowed was the wrong size. 13 hours after we left Mandalay, we finished our "6-7 hour" shared taxi. We also agreed that the $68 dollar, 1 hour flight to Yangon would be a better bet than another shared taxi.

Inle lake was beautiful and, I would imagine, very touristed in the high season. As usual, we saw very few westerners. We even got a tour of a local monastery where preperations were being made to feed 1500 monks during their exam period. The amount of food being cooked was truly jaw dropping. We did a boat tour of the lake and saw the long neck women of the Padaung tribe. Their brass rings weigh 7 Kgs. I put it on my head just to feel the weight and was happy to have it off after only a few seconds. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. We also rented bikes but to no ones surprise, Jo got a flat tire. So the boys played a game of volleyball with the locals while we got the tire fixed. The boys were sweating it out, as these locals were no chumps. They spiked the ball like pros and made the Canadians look like amateurs. All in good fun. It's not every day you get to play sports with 15 new Burmese friends.

We spent a quick couple of nights at the South West beach resort town of Chaung Tha where middle income Burmese come to play. It's monsoon season, so it rained heavily, the water was chocolate milk brown and we were just about the only tourists in town. We had a blast. We made quick friends with a French couple that has relocated to Myanmar, the Garric family. They invited the six of us to their home and treated us to a delicious meal of devilled eggs, real Italian pasta, large chunks of savory boneless pork (it's nearly impossible to get proper meat in South East Asia) and fresh crepes for dessert. We were spoiled. We even met their pet owl "Lucky" (read as lookie with a heavy french accent).

With only a couple of days left, we took the bus back to Yangon, took care of some last minute souvenir buying at the massive Aung San market and said good bye to our friends. It felt like the time just flew by. Jonathan headed back to Canada while Etienne, Jon and Dave embarked on a courageous cycling trip to Bangladesh and India. Bon courage mes amis!

Jo and I decided to head back up to Bagan, city of temples. It's a well known destination as it contains over 4000 temples and pagodas. Once again we had the feeling as though we stepped back in time. Being pulled around dirt pathways by horse and buggy, we visited temples over 1000 years old. While the temples made the trip well worthwhile, the real gem for us was a local artist who owned a shop called "Creative Arts". This particular artist,Yawn a than, many years ago read the book "Jonathan Livingston Seagull" (by Richard Bach - highly recommended) while he was still in school. He was so taken by this story about a bird who thinks differently, flies differently and stands out from the rest, that he changed his name to a Burmese version of Jonathan. He truly personifies the main character in that he has made a living out of exquisite bottle paintings and modern Burmese painting that stands out from any other shop. In a country where the military regime forced farmers off the land they tilled for centuries and gave them a choice of learning only wood carving, weaving or laquer work, this self taught artist followed his dreams and made a name for himself. A name that signifies idividuality, creativity and freedom of expression.

Myanmar's government is corrupt. They are lining their pockets while their citizens are deprived of essential services. Their economy is choked and their streets and sidewalks are shattered. Yet the people in this country will smile it off, do years of hard labour and even devote the better part of their free lives to confinment to stand up for a freely elected government of their choosing. As one Burmese told me, change is just a matter of time. We say, travel to Myanmar. Read about their history and meet the people who will be responsible for the freedom of her future. They will welcome you with open arms.