Category: The Golden Land

We just returned from four fantastic days cruising the Irrawaddy River. The memories will be forever ingrained in our minds. This part of our journey, along with the previous few days, has convinced us 100% that we will return to this beautiful country sooner rather than later.

It is tough to figure out exactly where to start, but I’ll do my best.

As mentioned in our earlier post, we were able to secure a private riverboat for three nights and four full days.

We were greeted at the boat jetty (the riverbank) in Mandalay by a wonderful fellow named Aung, who introduced himself as our tour guide and later turned out to be the boat owner. (Much more about Aung later.)

Upon boarding his 64-foot wooden boat, which had two sleeping cabins, we were introduced to his staff. We were expecting a staff of maybe four.

It turned out we had the boat pilot, the boat manager, two assistants to the manager, one chef with two assistants and our guide, Aung—a total of eight people looking after us. It made me wonder what kind of lies Joyce had told the travel agent about us.

This wasn’t a 2:1 ratio, but 4:1! Unheard of on even the best cruise lines in the world. The boat wasn’t a luxury liner, but it was perfect, comfortable and clean, and it had a quiet 110 HP diesel engine.

We departed Mandalay at about 10:30 am and set our course upstream to the village of Kyaukmyaung, about 80 km north of Mandalay. This was about a seven-hour journey against a current of probably four knots.

Kyaukmyaung is a small village noted for its pottery production. The plan was to stay overnight along the riverbank and then visit the village first thing the next morning before heading back downstream.

On the journey, we had a five-course lunch consisting of some of the tastiest pure ethnic Burmese cooking you can find anywhere, and it set the stage for the rest of our journey.

Dinner was just as fabulous, and the beer was cold too. Being in the company of Aung—with his knowledge of and passion for his country, and his success so far as a young man with a small business—made the evening conversation extremely interesting. It was exciting to see the changes happening in this young democracy.

The mud, or clay, along some parts of the Irrawaddy has a quality and purity that allows it to be used for making pottery. The village of Kyaukmyaung has this clay and produces thousands of handmade clay pots that are sold worldwide. Production is centralized and run by a few companies, but it employs many of the villagers who are not farming, so there seems to be work for all.

The early mornings in this area are cool, but the day heats up quickly, so our wanderings around the village were relatively sweat-free.

Our next stop was the village of Hin-Tharbo, and this was a very cool experience. Aung had been told that the village was celebrating the third and final day of a festival marking a family’s youngest son or daughter entering a Buddhist monastery for one week, one month or one year.

The men were preparing a feast while the village waited for the delivery of a sound system and an elephant costume that would be used for the elephant dance that evening. The elephant weighs 100 lbs and is worn by four men who must dance in unison, similar to a dragon dance.

As it turned out, we arrived on the first day of the celebrations, but upon our entry into the village, everything came to a complete standstill. Adults and children started to gather around us and stare. The children were confused by our presence and couldn’t take their eyes off us, or they would turn their heads and cry if we looked at them and smiled.

We found this a little hard to believe, but we were told that the village had never seen a white foreigner except in movies. We were the very first foreigners to visit their village.

This was not a village on the tourist map. There is really nothing to see here, so tourist boats don’t stop, especially the larger boats, which can’t moor along the shoreline. We were the first.

We still find this a little hard to believe, but we were assured this was the case. It certainly seemed as though they hadn’t seen anyone like us, and the welcome mat they put before us—food, snacks and curious, staring eyes—made us believe it was true. An absolutely wonderful experience!

Full credit goes to Aung. He has his boat pilot and manager call villages and their contacts along our route to find out whether anything interesting is happening. As it turned out, this was only the first of a couple of great experiences along our journey.

The Irrawaddy River is home to the highly threatened Irrawaddy dolphin. There are three freshwater dolphins in the world: the pink and white dolphins that live in the Amazon River (I have been fortunate to see both), and the Irrawaddy dolphin, which exists in Myanmar and, to a small extent, Cambodia. (Joyce and I had glimpses of them in Cambodia several years ago.)

We arranged to meet some fishermen who work with the dolphins in a symbiotic sort of fashion. It works like this: the fishermen have a piece of serrated wood that makes a unique sound when rubbed along the side of their boat. The dolphins have learned that this sound means a free lunch—but only if they herd or scare fish into the fishermen’s nets. The fishermen then throw fish to the dolphins as a reward for their catch.

Each fisherman creates a unique sound with his serrated wooden stick, so each has his own dolphin or dolphins to help him. Genius, but this day was different, and our luck continued to be on our side.

As we got closer to our meeting point with the fishermen, we came across a pod of at least 10 dolphins. Our ship manager called the fishermen to tell them our location. As we waited, we were entertained by the largest pod of dolphins any of the crew had seen at one time.

They estimate that there are fewer than a few hundred dolphins in the entire river. Seeing 10–12 in one area was a sight to behold and also a proud moment for the crew because they were seeing the results of the work being done to protect these beautiful mammals. They realize the importance of protecting this national treasure.

The fishermen showed up, we boarded their long, slim canoes and we puttered around trying to follow the dolphins. They made their wooden sounds and some vocal noises, but we came just as close to the dolphins as we would have if we had stayed on our boat and saved several dollars.

You never know what you will see, and there are no guarantees, but we lucked out big time.

The final stop for the day was the village of Mingun. Once we moored along the riverbank, we hiked up the bank and wandered through fields full of peanuts. Peanuts are widely grown throughout the region, and you see them spread out on the ground in the sun to dry before they are put into a machine that separates the nuts from the shells.

Also evident along much of the riverbank in the villages we visited were large bamboo cages. The locals were in the process of adding rocks to the separate compartments. The riverbanks are eroding, and this is a preventative measure intended to stop or slow what nature will do regardless—a process that has been influenced by river damming upstream in China. The natural flow is no longer natural.

We walked along dusty streets to the ruins of what was once a very large and ornately plaster-decorated lion. Unfortunately, it had been almost completely destroyed by an earthquake in 1839.

Following the road, we reached the “Unfinished Pagoda.” Mingun Pahtodawgyi is an immense pagoda whose construction began in 1790 but was never finished because an astrologer claimed that King Bodawpaya, who commissioned it, would die if it were completed. It would have been the largest in the world, but as luck would have it, the king died a year later anyway.

Along the way to the pagoda, Aung explained that there was still a lot of treasure within its inner sanctum. Apparently, there were seven cats filled with gold, three cats filled with silver and one cat filled with diamonds.

Joyce and I looked at each other, trying to imagine stuffing cats with gold, silver and diamonds. That really wasn’t a very large fortune, and using cats seemed odd. We continued on, and then Aung mentioned the cats again—this time in a different context. Then it hit us. It wasn’t cats but carts!

Another lost-in-translation moment, and one that we and Aung found particularly funny. We had a very good laugh.

Nearby lies another fine example of Burmese architecture: the beautiful white Hsinbyume Pagoda, modelled after the mythical Mount Meru and built in 1816 by Bodawpaya’s grandson.

The area also boasts the largest operable bell in the world, which was cast by the king to accompany his huge stupa. The Mingun Bell weighs 90 tons and is today the largest ringing bell in the world.

Finally, on our way back to the boat, where we would spend the night moored along the riverbank, we came across five men playing Chinlone, the traditional national sport of Myanmar. It is much like hacky sack in the West, but the ball is larger and made of bamboo. The foot-to-eye coordination was a sight to behold.

Our third day was spent visiting the villages of Inwa and Lakapin, with a final stop for the night along a large sandbar. There, we went for a cool dip in the Irrawaddy and drank wine and beer in front of a large bonfire. The soft sandbank looked much like the desert landscape of the salt pans in Botswana.

Inwa is an ancient city not far from Mandalay and is known for religious structures left over from its several periods as the nation’s capital between the 14th and 19th centuries. The main feature dominating the area is Bagaya Kyaung, a 19th-century working monastery made of teak. We hired a horse cart to take us around the area. It was bloody hot outside!

Hopping back into the horse carriage, we bumped along to Maha Aung Mye Bon Zan Monastery. Alternatively, and better known as the Brick Monastery, it was built in 1818 by Nanmadaw Me Nu, the chief queen of King Bagyidaw.

Counted among the finest brick buildings adorned with stucco and flora, the monastery was destroyed by the earthquake of 1839 but was reconstructed and repaired in 1873. As is the case with most Burmese monasteries, two giant guardian lions welcome you at the entrance. This monastery stands out because it was made of brick when it was customary to build monasteries of wood.

The queen was not a nice lady. Built below the monastery is a labyrinth of very low-ceilinged arches, with sharp bricks extending outwards from the top. If you were on her bad list, she would force you to go below and then set irate lions free to chase the poor sap through the passageways. It was next to impossible to run through them because the ceilings were very low, so it didn’t take long for Leo to get his breakfast!

We boarded the “Queen of the Irrawaddy” and set sail for Lakapin, where we planned to visit a village that makes straw hats.

Earlier on our second day, we had visited Hin-Tharbo, where we were expecting to see the third and final day of the celebration of young monks entering the monastery, but it turned out to be the first day. When we arrived at Lakapin, we were told that most of the families who make hats weren’t making them that day because they were attending the third day of the monkdom-entryhood celebrations, so we lucked out.

We did see a lot of straw hats, and Aung was able to get one woman to show us a little of the hat-making process. The highlight, however, was the celebration, where we were greeted with open arms, fed an interesting concoction of nuts, greens, chilies and assorted unknown veggies, and treated to a custom that goes back many centuries.

The original plan was to continue on to the village of Yandabo, where we would spend the night and then visit the village. It was getting later in the afternoon, so we decided to stop at a very large sandbar to spend the night and catch the sunset.

This was truly a highlight of our trip in Myanmar and our whole adventure to date. The Irrawaddy River level is low at this time of year, exposing miles and miles of sandbars and sandy shores. We moored the boat, and the deckhands brought chairs and a table out onto the sand.

Cold beer and wine were at the ready, and we sat in total peace and quiet on a beach the size of—I don’t know; you couldn’t really see the end of it—and watched the day fade into the distant haze over the river.

It was dark now, and we really needed to have a shower after the dusty, hot trips we had made earlier in the day. The cool river flowing by us was too much to ignore, so we donned our bathing suits and plunged into the river for a very refreshing bath. A fantastic way to end another fantastic day!

After drying off, we made our way back to our beach chairs. By this time, the guys had built a huge bonfire. We put some J.J. Cale tunes on my Bluetooth speaker and sat in awe of the experience we were having. It was awesome.

We, of course, had to have dinner, so around 8:30 pm we walked the plank back onto the boat and were again treated to the best Burmese food imaginable. Joyce was pooped by now, so she retired. Aung and I gathered a few more cool ones and sat on the beach, kept the fire stoked and chatted about everything under the full moon.

This was February 28th, and the full moon was actually March 1st, so close enough. Magical!

Our final day, damn it! We didn’t want this to end, but next time it will be five days—or maybe more.

We proceeded downriver to the village of Yandabo, where the only industry is pottery making. Nothing else. Every household makes pottery, and they make it only for Myanmar. Every household in Myanmar has at least four pots that they use for water, and every pot has to be replaced each April, so the demand is huge. All handmade and all very similar, but it keeps them busy year-round.

Back on the river, we came across several boats set up to pump and sift the sand for fine particles of gold.

Our last stop before ending our journey was the village of Pakokku. We hired a tuk-tuk and drove to a textile workshop, followed by a short visit to see how they make thanaka, a yellowish-white cosmetic paste made from ground bark. Most people—men and women—wear it daily, and it has been in use for over 2,000 years.

It gives a cooling sensation, provides protection from sunburn and is also believed to help remove acne, promote smooth skin and act as an antifungal.

Finally, a quick hello to a cigarette-making lady on the side of the road. We were told she can hand-roll up to 4,000 cigs a day. Pretty impressive.

We departed Pakokku and made our final stop in Bagan, where we bid farewell to Aung and our wonderful crew, promising we would return. Thank you to everyone on board. We left filled with great memories of our journey on the Irrawaddy River.