One of Myanmar’s most serene and picturesque spots is Inle Lake. This Shan State attraction lives up to the hype: a huge freshwater lake populated by leg-rowing fishermen, and surrounded by a ring of lush green mountains.
Boat trips are the most popular activity for tourists that visit Inle Lake, but you can also take short canoe trips on the many scenic canals in the Nyaungshwe vicinity. You won’t find many vehicles in these communities; everyone has their own canoe!
Boat and canoe trips are great, but I also like to walk around town or rent a bicycle and explore the area on two wheels. I’m always passing farmers, farm animals, and friendly children. There is one dirt lane, just past the monastery on Phaungdawpyan Road, where kids will run up and give you freshly picked flowers (or in some cases, weeds). This has happened to me both times I’ve walked down this road, a full year apart. This neighborhood wins my award for “Most Friendliest.”
There is a road that runs south of town, taking you all the way to the village of Maing Thauk, where the orphanage is located. I didn’t pedal that far (I visited the orphanage a day earlier during my tour of the lake), but I did venture several kilometers down the road, passing fields, factories, and farms. I also stopped at what I presumed was a school (although the kids weren’t dressed in the standard uniforms) and was greeted by a bunch of curious kids.
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What? You mean I can’t wear my feet?
Tourists take a pony cart tour of Inwa.
Colony of bats near a riverside village west of Bagan.
Orange sellers push their cart in Mandalay.
The “leaning tower” of Inwa.
Fortuneteller at the Kuthowdaw Pagoda in Mandalay.
A street sweeper and her young daughter in Nyaungshwe.
Sittana Paya near New Bagan.
Novice monks play volleyball in Kaung Daing near Inle Lake.
Pilgrims apply gold leaf to the “Golden Rock” at Kyaiktiyo.
After losing my way, this village woman gave me directions to the orphanage in Maing Thauk.
U Tet Tun, director of the Maing Thauk Orphanage.
Picking peanuts in a field south of New Bagan.
Logs used to make thanaka paste for sale at a market in Bago.
Teak carving at Bagaya Kyaung in Inwa.
Young nuns at the Ananda pagoda festival in Bagan.
Stir-frying a batch of sunflower seeds in Pyin U Lwin.
No more room for passengers on this Mandalay mini-bus. Or is there?
Fixing a road in Maing Thauk. 
I stayed at the Dahlia Hotel (they pronounce it “Day-lee-uh”), which was located on the south side, not far from the golf course and the famous Botanical Gardens, but otherwise a bit isolated from the heart of the city. During the day I either rented a bike and rode around town, or took a pony cart to the center of town and then explored the area on foot. 
I was walking around the colorful Shan Market one morning, having just wolfed down a bowl of spicy noodles, when an old woman – she looked to be in her eighties – approached and greeted me as if I were a long-lost friend. “Good morning! How are you?” she said, reaching out to shake my hand. “Happy New Year! Better late than never!” With that last rejoinder I almost burst out laughing. Who was this funny Burmese woman with impeccable English skills? 
She said her name was Sheila and she had grown up here in Pyin U Lwin, although she still called it Maymyo. After talking for a few minutes, she slipped in a plea for some money. I didn’t mind. She certainly wasn’t your typical beggar, and I didn’t begrudge giving the poor old lady a bit of much-needed cash. After I forked over the money I thought that would be the end of our meeting. But Sheila had other ideas. She wanted to show me around the area and make sure I saw the nearby Chinese temple and the rest of the Shan Market. 
But first a teashop stop. We walked across the busy main road (“Be careful,” she warned, as we waited for some trucks to pass, “these cars will knock you down and run away!”) and entered the small Circular Road Teashop. We both had cups of sweet hot tea and I munched on a tasty cinnamon roll. After we finished I was getting ready to pay the bill but Sheila peeled out some of the money I had given her earlier and she proudly paid the tab. Later, walking down the road, she stopped and bought me a bag of Shan desserts. You can’t say these people aren’t hospitable. 
Walking back from the Chinese Temple - where there was a tasty-looking spread of food being offered to the spirits - Sheila advised me to watch my belongings while in town. “You have to be careful. If you leave your bag on the ground, they take it and run away.” On the subject of prices, she had this warning: “If you buy something for 300 kyat and give them a 1000 kyat note they will take your change and run away.” If what Sheila was saying was true, there were a lot of people in this town who were keen to do bad things and run away. 
And maybe Sheila’s warnings weren’t so far-fetched: there truly was a weird vibe in this town. My Lonely Planet guidebook observed that in Pyin U Lwin “much of the town’s populace is decked out in various fatigues … but not everyone is military.” That assessment is pretty much spot on. There certainly ARE a lot of dudes walking around in army garb or wearing combat helmets. As I was getting on a motorbike to go back to my hotel, one guy in an army helmet saluted me. Must have been that Minnesota Twins cap I was wearing. I don’t doubt that Kirby Puckett is worshipped in these hills. But the most troubling aspect of the town’s military vibe (an Air Force Academy is located on the outskirts of the city) was all the children I saw playing with toy guns. Oodles and oodles of the damn things; both kids and guns. There were more kids playing with toy guns in Pyin U Lwin than in any other place I visited in Myanmar. Somebody bring these people more volleyballs and badminton rackets! 
Downtown Pyin U Lwin is a bit dusty and rundown, but the surrounding area is quite scenic; mountains in the distance and stately old British-built homes dotting the landscape. The famous Candacraig Hotel (mentioned in one of Paul Theroux’s travel books) is one of several Colonial era mansions now functioning as hotels. Besides the sprawling Botanical Gardens (176 hectares), the biggest attractions in the area are a couple of waterfalls. But due to the cold weather I had no desire to go anywhere near water and passed on outings to those places. 
I had an enjoyable time talking to the monks on my first day in Nyaungshwe so I ended up cycling back to the monastery three more times during my stay. The young monks were gracious and curious hosts. They asked lots of questions about my home country and my current life in Bangkok, and patiently answered my own questions as I attempted to speak with them in Burmese. 
The monks study Pali and Buddhist texts for most of the morning and afternoon. Afterwards they sweep the grounds (occasionally poking one another with the brooms, or using one to play air guitar!) of the monastery and do various other chores. During their free time you will find them playing games, arm wrestling, or shooting rubberbands at one another: just boys being boys. In the evenings, one monk confided with a giggle, they sometimes watch TV or listen to the radio. 
There was no pressing need for me to go to Mingun; I’d already been there last year and had seen most of the sights. But I still had not seen one of the famous pagodas in town, Hsinbyume Paya (the one that’s pictured on the cover of Lonely Planet’s Myanmar guidebook), nor had a paid a visit to a nearby nursing home. But I had met a very pleasant group of kids there last time around. They carried my bags, showed me some spots that I wouldn’t have found on my own, and were simply nice people. I decided I’d return to Mingun and bring them copies of the photos I’d taken of them, visit the town’s monastery, and see the places I’d missed the first time. 
The biggest attraction in Mingun is the huge Mingun Paya, an unfinished pagoda. The plan was for it to rise to a height of 150 meters but after the King up and died construction stopped, with only about 30 percent of the project finished. Twenty years an earthquake came along and caused extensive damage to the structure. And it’s sat there in its glorious unfinished state ever since, making it the town’s big attraction. I’d climbed it once and that was enough for me, but I knew I’d have to stop by the entrance at the base of the big pagoda to find the kids that I’d met on my previous trip. They work there, watching over the sea of shoes (like at all pagodas in the country, no footwear is allowed) while tourists make the climb to the top of the “big pile of bricks.” 
I found two of the kids there. One of the girls, Min Min, is now 20 and in her last year of high school. The boy, Mi Tet, is 13 but I don’t think he attends school. I asked about the two other kids: Po Tha Gyi (a 10-year-old girl) and Ko Ko Oo (a 12-year-old boy). Min Min, who speaks the best English of the bunch, told me they were both in school, but would no doubt show up after classes let out at 11:00. And, like clockwork, they did. While we were visiting the monastery (the head monk I had met last time was not around: apparently out of town “on tour”) Po Tha Gyi appeared, and later, running up a path and arms flailing, came and out-of-breath Ko Ko Oo. The gang was now all present and accounted for. 
I distributed photos and small gifts during a break at a nearby teashop (gotta have my morning tea!) where one of the kids bought a dish of some sweet gooey dessert that had a coconut flavor. After stopping at a souvenir stand that Mi Tet’s older sister runs, and later at his family’s house, they took me to the local nursing home, or “Home for the Aged” as they call it. It’s a very nice complex; most of the buildings look like they were constructed in the past decade and are clean and well-maintained. The residents aren’t necessarily all geriatric and bed-ridden. In fact, most are in perfectly good shape and go about their daily lives, enjoying the company of their friends, and taking walks in the village. But they stay at this home because they have no other family in the area to take care of them. I made a cash donation and was given a nice little calendar in return. 
By that time I had now explored most of Mingun, and needed to get back to the boat, which departed for Mandalay at 1:00. The kids asked if they could go back with me and pay a visit to Mandalay Hill. My first thought was: I don’t know, can you? I mean, will they let you on the boat with the tourists? That turned out to be no problem. The only hitch in the plan was getting to Mandalay Hill and back, and then getting the kids on the boat to Mingun before the last one left for the day. Myint Shin was waiting for us on the other side, and just as I figured, he said there wasn’t enough time for the kids to see the hill and make it back for the final boat. But there was a nearby amusement park we could visit, and the kids all perked up when that idea was proposed. 
But first, hunger called. We stopped for a late lunch at yet another teashop for some fried rice (Myint Shin had to show one of the kids how to use a knife and spoon, instead of his fingers!), and then walked over to the amusement park. It wasn’t a very big complex, and there weren’t many people milling about, but it was full of things to do: bumper cars, a log flume ride, a small roller coaster, merry-go-rounds, and that sort of stuff. After watching some novice monks battle it out on the bumper cars, the kids took their turn and gleefully bashed into one another, laughing and howling as if it was the craziest thing they’d ever done. I passed on that and the rest of the rides, content to just watch them have fun. After an hour they seemed to have had their fill of the park, announcing that they would head over to the jetty and take the boat back to Mingun. I gave them each some money and wished them well. In return they all thanked me and shook my hand before leaving. Nice bunch of kids. I’m sure I’ll make it a point to visit them in Mingun the next time I return to Mandalay. 
One of my favorite areas is the “Monk District” in the southwest part of the city. Here you will find dozens of active monasteries and old pagodas. One of the most eye-catching of the bunch is Shwe Bin In Kyaung, an old monastery made entirely of teak. Except for a few cobweb-encrusted carvings, the place is well-maintained and clean. Just down the road, over a small bridge, is the city’s largest monastery, Ma Soe Yein Nu Kyaung, home to over 2,700 monks and novices. I stopped by that monastery my first day in town and met several friendly monks, one of whom invited me to see the mammoth breakfast ritual the next morning. Near the small lake that borders the monastery I could see several men already preparing the next day’s meal. They were chopping, cutting, and slicing a variety of vegetables and meat, then stirring each batch and cooking it all in huge pots or woks. 
The only problem with seeing the next morning’s extravaganza – and watching 2,734 monks getting served breakfast certainly qualifies as such - was getting up early enough in the morning to see it begin. But I managed to crawl out of bed at about five in the morning, take a quick shower, and - armed with a flashlight – cycle in darkness over to the monastery in time to see long lines of monks being served their meal. While taking photos of the spectacle I met one of the volunteers distributing food, a kind man named U Myint Swe. We talked for a few minutes and he invited me upstairs to meet the senior monks and to eat breakfast. Once again, I was lucky enough to experience the incredible hospitality and generosity of the Myanmar people. You just can’t plan moments like this. 
I couldn’t find Hashim, the trishaw driver I used previously in Mandalay, but I lucked out and met another dependable driver named Myint Shin. The first time I used his services was when I needed transportation back to my hotel after dining at the always incredible Aye Myit Tar restaurant (talk about getting stuffed: they never let up with the extra portions). We struck up a conversation and Myint Shin proved to be a delightful and knowledgeable driver. When I wasn’t cycling or walking around town I used him for night outings (with no light on my bike and very little in the way of streetlights, I didn’t dare cycle much at night in Mandalay) and to the boat jetty. On my last night in town Myint Shin invited me to his home, where he and wife cooked up a delicious spread of food. Nothing like home cooking! 
Riding my bicycle around town I noticed many children out on the streets and playing games such as marbles, badminton, chinlon (pretty much the same as the sport of Takraw), and of course football (soccer). It’s refreshing to see so many kids out in the great outdoors, having fun and playing healthy games, as opposed to sitting inside an Internet shop and playing violent computer games for hours on end. But I suppose that will spread around Myanmar soon enough; I already see such shops in Yangon. 
Another of my favorite Mandalay activities is visiting teashops. They are sort of like 7-Eleven stores in Bangkok: you find one or two on almost every block. There are many inexpensive little shops with tasty tea and snacks such as samosa, paratha, and several varieties of sweet cakes and sticky pastries. The teashops are great people watching spots too. Pull up a chair, sit down, and watch the colorful Myanmar street scenes unfold. Many teashops open early in the morning and serve very tasty noodle and rice dishes. The famous Mandalay noodles called Mondhi are very addictive. Myint Shin turned me on to one excellent place for Mondhi and I took Ma Thanegi’s advice and found another good spot, too. 
While I was in Mandalay I met up with an e-friend, Klaus Schroeder, for a meal at the Golden Duck Restaurant. For several years Klaus has been coming to Myanmar for annual visits, during which time he has set up an organization to help two orphanages in Mandalay. Besides helping to build new dormitories and classroom facilities, his group has helped several of the older orphans to open their own businesses. But due to sanctions imposed by foreign governments, most notably the United States, getting funds to the orphanages has proved to be problematic. Once again, politics rears its ugly head and prevents people from getting the help they need. 
Trucks and buses packed full of party-hearty folks from the countryside can be seen riding around Bagan during festival week; the passengers clapping, laughing and singing songs. Festive is certainly the appropriate term for the atmosphere. Bullock carts pulled by white water buffaloes camp out for several days on the festival grounds. Visually, it’s a nice sight, but you have to be careful where step; it becomes a minefield of cow patties. 
The surrounding grounds of the temple are occupied by a sea of vendors, selling merchandise and food of every imaginable type. Frankly, it gets a bit junky, resembling a gaudy Asian flea market, but the locals seem to love it. In addition, there are song and dance performances (and always frightening spectre of shrill karaoke), puppet shows, and on the outskirts of this shopping eyesore are traditional amusement rides such as merry-go-rounds and a Ferris wheel. The latter is quite a sight: it’s propelled by human hands (and feet) as opposed to electric means. All of which makes a spin on this Ferris wheel more than a bit of an adventure. When they want it to stop, a group of four or five young men will jump up and grab onto one of the carriages and pull it back to earth. It sometimes takes them several tries before they are successful. 
The morning of the actual full moon day is dedicated to a colorful ritual where the pagoda’s monks are given offerings. The donations become a deluge; thousands of people bringing a variety of items (food, money, toiletries, etc.) for the monks. These are normally placed in bowls or small baskets and then displayed on a long stage outside the pagoda. 
After the early morning ceremonies (sadly, I didn’t get up early enough on the big day to see the start of it) have finished, the monks, nuns, local villagers, and foreign tourists all mingle around the pagoda compound, snapping photos, chatting, and receiving blessings. Some of the young novice monks could be seen playing games or enthralled by the sight of vendor blowing up helium balloons. 
I made two daytime excursions and one nighttime visit to the festival, making the multi-kilometer journey from New Bagan on bicycle with Tun Tun and Min Min each time. My legs survived the semi-hilly ride in pretty good shape, but the hard, wobbly bike seat absolutely tore up my posterior. Each time we were in the area we paid a visit to the nearby Misan Restaurant in Old Bagan for some good eating. Run by the personable U Soe Tin, Misan offers a variety of inexpensive Burmese dishes, most of them accompanied by a spread of vegetable dishes. I’m always stuffed when I leave the place. For a restaurant in a very touristy area, the quality of the food and service at Misan is surprisingly high. 
During my recent trip to Myanmar I finally got the chance to meet Thuya. He dropped by my hotel in Yangon to pick up a bunch of books for the library; some that I had brought with me from Bangkok (mostly children’s titles), as well as another big bagful that local writer Ma Thanegi had donated. Thuya is an earnest, thoughtful young man who is dedicated to this library project. He admits to getting discouraged at times, lamenting that many young people in New Bagan only want to read fashion magazines or sports newspapers. Currently, Kuthodaw has over 30 members, but they are trying to encourage more local students to learn about and use the library. Eventually, they want to add computers for a proposed multimedia room. “I will not give up,” Thuya promises. 
A few days after I met Thuya I visited the library in New Bagan. It’s located just off the main road (on a side street, next to a teashop) near the town’s morning market. I went there one afternoon with two local boys I know; Tun Tun and Min Min. They had not been to the library yet, so this trip was enlightening for them as well as for me. The library doesn’t yet have electricity so they are only open during daylight hours. Thuya’s sister, along with a few other volunteers, help to run the library. They told me that most patrons visit on Sundays, when students don’t have to attend school. 
The library is just starting and they need more English language books in a variety of categories. Currently, most of the books are in Burmese and come from Thuya’s personal collection. If anyone is interested in donating books or money for the Kuthodaw Library project, you are welcome to contact Win Thuya directly, or drop off books at my shop in Bangkok. You can find the link to the Kuthodaw Library website (which includes Thuya’s e-mail information) under the “Favorites” list on this page. 
I discovered some good new restaurants this visit, thanks to recommendations from a couple of hospitable and knowledgeable Yangon residents. Ma Thanegi introduced me to Monsoon, a delightful restaurant on Thein Byu Road, only about a block from the river. Not only does Monsoon serve excellent meals (in addition to Burmese cuisine they also have Thai, Lao, and Vietnamese dishes), displayed throughout their attractive three-floor building are artwork, glassware (from the famous Na-Gar Glass Factory), books, paper umbrellas, and other native handicrafts. They even stock Ma Thanegi’ book about Myanmar Cuisine! 
Myriam Grest, the owner of Myanmar Travel Ltd., took me to the brand new branch of L’Opera, located in a refurbished old home on the lakeshore next to the Dusit Inya Lake Resort. Scrumptious Italian food served in an attractive outdoor garden. Being in the company of the vivacious Myriam, her personable daughter (who attends ISB in Bangkok), and her industrious office manager made for a splendid evening. 
I returned one afternoon to Happy World, an amusement park located in the vicinity of Shwedagon Pagoda. I had promised the staff photographer at the park that I would bring him some of the photos that we took together last year, plus I wanted to take a dip in one of Happy World’s large swimming pools. Thankfully, the weather was warm enough to permit such indulgences. A couple of boys at the pool befriended me and after a swimming session (I passed on joining them for a plunge down the giant slide) they invited me to a bumper car duel, and later a round of darts (the game involved picking a number and then trying to aim your dart at the corresponding number on a nearby wall). And to top it off, these two kids, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, paid for it all! 
I also paid a couple of visits to the Mandarin Restaurant, my old reliable dining spot near Mahabandoola Park and Sule Pagoda. The couple who run the place always remember me, greeting me like a long lost relative. The food is nothing fancy, but it’s consistently good, and the prices are affordable. And if you’re lucky the electricity won’t go out during your meal. 
