Hpa An

[Above photo: A sand-dredging boat on the Thanlwin River near Hpa An. It is not sinking.]

19 February 2019

I didn’t take my laptop to Hpa An last weekend and although I made some notes by hand, I never managed to churn out my blog post during the subsequent week. Lesson learned: bring the laptop.

I took a 6:45AM cab for the Aung Mingalar Highway Bus Station, Yangon’s major bus hub, which is located far from where I live. I asked the driver if it took about 45’, my bus leaving at 8AM. He nodded and drove like a maniac, fully floored on city streets when he could. I cowered in the back seat, firmly fastened by a lap belt. I couldn’t liberate the chest strap. We arrived at 7:20AM. I assumed he misunderstood me and thought the bus left in 45 minutes. On reflection I don’t think so, as the taxi driver when I returned 4 days later drove equally wildly. The faster you go over a long distance, the more fares you get, I suppose.

The bus, a fuscia-colored San Par Oo Purified Drinking Water travelling billboard, was named “Miraculous”. A bit down at the heels and with windows painted black—cheaper than curtains? A former military decree?—it nevertheless got us to Hpa An in 6 hours. My only view was a 3 degree wedge up the aisle through the windshield. The interior was an intriguing study in interior design, with many pink tassels framing the windshield and non-functional TV screen and large posters of the Buddha and the Golden Rock temple at Mt. Kyaiktkyo plastered around. We heard a monk chanting for about two hours. Many of the lines ended “de bizi, nah bizio”, leading me to wonder if it was a gratis MBA lecture. Then the driver’s assistant played a very plaintive series of songs by a young woman who had obviously lost a lover, a pet, or a job. At our halfway stop in Kway Larb I noticed the name of other buses: Busy Bee, City of Glory, Beach Club, Tranquil, and Aviator.  I like it, a kind of ascribing motivation, personalizing, and anthropomorphizing the inanimates.

As I descended in Hpa An by the clock tower in the center of town, a pleasant young man offered me a motorbike “taxi” ride to my hotel which I took, mindful of my flip flops and lack of head protection. The next 3 days were spent sightseeing and seeking food.

I hired a driver, since many of the sights were scattered around the countryside and I figured I’d just get lost trying to ride to them on a rented motorbike. The temperatures and distances made a mountain bike impractical, if more fun. We started at 8 and ended at 8. I hiked into, and through, a number of wonderful caves. If one Buddha image is good, several thousand are better. The lush, mountainous countryside was dotted with glinting (gold) stupa spires. One large and long cave led out to a gem-like lake. Enter a poled canoe and the boatman took me into a cave on the far side of the lake which eventually led to another small lake. And so forth.

My driver spoke no English and my Bamar za ga doesn’t include “cave” so when he dropped me off at noon at the base of a mountain in 89 degree heat (and rising) I assumed it was yet another. After walking a while up an incline the pitch became nearly vertical. I realized I was climbing Mt. Zwegabin, the 2372 foot highest peak around, to visit the monastery on top. In my flip flops. Of course, all the Burmese going up were in flip flops, as well. It’s just that all the westerners were in substantial foot gear. I made it up and got one gouged shin, dripping blood, and one black and blue toe for my troubles. There were glorious views from the top, especially of the young man, standing on a girder and a loose 2×4 over a 2000+ foot sheer drop, welding a new viewing platform.

After several more amazing sights, I sat with 50 others at dusk by the river and watched a literal torrent of fruit bats exit a cave to feed nearby and to be eaten by the 8 or so raptors circling above the cave for their nightly snack. The torrent continued to flow for 20 minutes, by which time it was so dark we left because we could only hear, not see, them. It is estimated that more than a million inhabit the cave, which seems about right, +/- a few hundred thousand.

That night I ordered “Thai-style” tom yum soup that was very tasty yet flamingly spicy. I’m not a timid eater and love spicy food but that was nearly inedible (by me).  I let it cool and simultaneously drank a good Myanmar beer and was able to fill myself.

The following day I spent walking about the town, hiring someone to take me in their boat across the river where I walked through the village and partway up a hill to another perched monastery—“nearer my Lord to thee?”  They had a shaded rest area and no one else was around so I sat and read and wrote and hydrated and just took it easy. On my way back to the river I saw my first angry person in Myanmar—a late teenage boy with his friends. He threw a heavy rock off into the bushes and stalked away. I don’t know what was his beef. His friends looked a little askance. It isn’t that the Burmese are incapable of anger or aggression; behind a wheel they are fearsome and merciless. They either suppress or conceal it well, however, most of the time.

The bus ride home, on a brand new very fancy and comfortable bus with clear windows, was a breeze.

I was informed that the exam has been given to the 15 applicants for my course, from whom 9 will be selected. These have already completed Adult Psychiatry training, so the only two relevant criteria I can imagine to examine would be English proficiency and their motivation for the training. I’ll begin the course on 4 March, a week from tomorrow. Finally!

Linda came up with the brilliant idea of meeting in Maui during the Water Festival holiday here. Sign me up! And an extra benefit is her nephew, Alex, will get married there so we’ll have a combination of some family, some friends, and, mostly, time to see and enjoy each other. I’ve always wanted to hike in Haleakala and swimming in the warm Pacific…. well.  [DT has given a bad name to ….. I like to use them, occasionally.] Tuesday often being the best prices on air fares, I’ll buy my ticket then.

It felt strange to announce a vacation before I had even started my course but then I expected to start it in early January. And 9 members of the Dept. of Mental Health, including the Chief, are currently in Sydney for a conference for a week, so it’ll be fine. I can get too scrupulous sometimes.