South by Southeast: The man from Kathmandu

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Everybody wants to talk to you in Myanmar. Almost daily I was greeted by a welcoming committee of friendly taxi drivers, curious adolescent monks and mysterious jobless “men about town” wanting to shoot the breeze. In a country that restricts access to the media, it’s not surprising the Burmese are eager to talk: they seem hungry for access to the outside world. For the most part, the exchanges are entertaining and harmless: a refreshing way to meet the locals. So my walk to the teashop that Sunday in Mandalay was no different than any other. A cloud of trishaw drivers quickly enveloped me, asking “Where you come from?” and offering their services. That is of course, until one posed me an unusual question I hadn’t heard before:

“Have you read Pico Iyer’s Video Night in Kathmandu?”

I paused. I had of course – I count the book among my favorite travel narratives…particularly for its slice-of-life portrayals of the various cultures of Asia. In one of the book’s most memorable chapters, Pico shares his recollections from Burma, describing the country in all its chaotic, wonderful glory. One character named Maung Maung even invited the author back to his house.

“My name is Maung Maung. Pico featured me in his book. I’m on page 24.”

I was astonished. Here was a man claiming to be a character from Pico’s famous Asian novel, one of my favorites, who happened to randomly meet me as I walked down the block in Mandalay. Doubts filled my head. Could he be some kind of con artist? How many Myanmar visitors have read Video Night in Kathmandu, anyway? There was no way to tell for certain – but like so many other chance encounters I had in Myanmar, I decided to go with it, curious to see what might happen and convinced fate had presented me with an opportunity. Keep reading below to see what happened…

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Maung Maung and I took a seat at the local Burmese teashop. The middle-aged man pulled out a cheroot from his shirt pocket and proceeded to regale me for the next two hours with a stream of consciousness explosion: critiques of the Burmese military junta, dirty jokes, stories about his wife – even some anecdotes about his life in Myanmar and time with Pico. It became a tale of woe. He claimed a university degree in Mathematics, but as he told me, the government wouldn’t hire him because of his outspoken political views. Here before me then was a 50-something man, apparently university-educated, who earned his living by pedaling tourists around Mandalay. It was downright sad. Then came his pitch:

“Could you help me out by hiring me for a ride? I’ll take you to meet my family.”

I was torn. Even if he wasn’t telling the truth about the book, I wanted to help him somehow. And visiting a family sounded amazing. But my rational mind said otherwise – maybe this was some kind of setup? Would I end up getting mugged in some back alley in Mandalay? In the end, I figured It was worth the chance. With visions of Video Night in Kathmandu filling my head, I agreed to let Maung Maung pedal me to his home on an antiquated bicycle trishaw.

We started off in the quickly gathering darkness, Maung Maung’s thin frame straining at the pedals down a labyrinthine maze of back alleys. The streets were alive with activity. A cluster of dirt-crusted children kicked a soccer ball in the dust. Mounds of rotting garbage simmered in humid evening air. Silhouettes of women crouched over bubbling pots of noodles, faces lit by cooking fires. The chaotic scene filled me with a nervous mix of excitement and anxiety. Each new turn of the trishaw down the anonymous streets provoked a wave of anxiety that I would be lost and left for dead in the Burmese gutter.

And then we arrived. The house wasn’t much to look at – the home’s sole room featured a stark cement floor flanked by wicker walls. A rickety wooden table and chairs anchored the room’s center. In corner was grungy mirror, a few fading color photos tucked around the edge. A ceiling fan whirled drunkenly from above. His college-age daughter and son stood awkwardly, hands glued to the chair frames. They smiled at me curiously, puzzled by the sudden appearance of a gangly white foreigner in their midst. I don’t know what I had expected, but It was awkward. But then again, the best travel tales rarely unfold like they do in our favorite books. Much like a visit to Myanmar, the reality of our travels is often far more confusing, dirty and inconvenient than we expected. It’s only later we look back fondly at these moments of serendipity, now coated by the glaze of nostalgia and time.

I lingered for a few minutes and asked Maung Maung to leave. I thanked his family profusely, hopped back in the seat of the rickety trishaw and we pedaled off towards my guesthouse. Maung Maung dropped me off, I gave him a few dollars for his services, and just like that he was gone. A work of fiction safely filed back on my bookshelf.

So who was this guy anyway? Did I get “taken for a ride,” parted from my money by a con-artist? Or did I actually spend the evening with a character from one of my favorite books? I don’t think I’ll ever know for sure. One thing I do know for certain: the answer to my question is still out there, slowly pedaling its way down the darkened alleys of Mandalay.

Gadling writer Jeremy Kressmann is spending the next few months in Southeast Asia. You can read other posts on his adventures “South by Southeast” HERE.


Curious to read more about visiting Myanmar? Check out the previous post HERE.

South by Southeast: Taunggyi Balloon Festival

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Daily life is a struggle in Myanmar. For the average local, working days are filled with long hours of backbreaking manual labor, meager pay and no weekends or vacation time. Considering this exhausting schedule, festivals and holidays are special times – a chance to kick back, relax and let loose. In Myanmar’s Shan State, one of the most important of these festivities is the annual Taunggyi Balloon Festival.

Over the course of this annual eight-day event, teams compete to design and launch the most impressive hot air balloons: some shaped like giant birds, zebras and cows; others filled with a potent mix of fireworks; still others elegantly lit by flickering candles. Each balloon’s launch is symbolic of Buddhist hopes for the purging of human sin, gently gliding off and disappearing into the heavens. More than 200 such entries are launched each festival season, continually rising throughout the day and night.

Surrounding this magnificent hot-air balloon spectacle is a chaotic and festive carnival sideshow: drunken men shout at giant gambling wheels, open cooking fires sizzle with pots of Mohinga soup and pig entrails and children scream with joy on huge Ferris Wheels (powered solely by jumping men). It’s as if the Fourth of July, Las Vegas and a giant refugee camp had suddenly collided in one huge, heaving, wonderful mass of humanity and celebration.

During my visit to Myanmar this past month, I had a chance to visit the Taunggyi Balloon Festival and get first-hand taste of this awesome event. Wondering what happened? Keep reading below for more…

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Getting There
Upon arriving in Myanmar, I immediately began planning my visit to Taunggyi. This was easier said than done: the event is among the most popular in all of Myanmar and hotels in Taunggyi are fully booked for weeks in advance. Even finding a bus to Taunggyi during festival time presents a problem: as many are jammed with eager locals.

As an alternative, I arranged to begin my Taunggyi visit from the nearby Shan State town of Kalaw. The town has its own smaller balloon festivities and is about a 3 hour taxi ride from Taunggyi. Many visitors also consider Nyaungshwe, the main city on Inle Lake, which has plentiful lodging options. Both cities make convenient bases to begin your exploration of the festival. A taxi to/from the event costs around $40-50.

The Balloons
Though Taunggyi is most famous for the nighttime balloons, the daytime balloons are equally impressive. Unlike the evening launches, which explode with colorful fireworks, the daytime launches show off Myanmar craftsmanship, with each colorful entry shaped like a different animal. On the large festival launching grounds, amorphous piles of fabric slowly rise into fantasy creatures of heat and shape: curious pigeons and lazy cows emerge and drift away, carried at the whim of the warm winter breeze. Some entries are not so lucky: an errant gust of wind or careless touch of the torch and the fragile creations are consumed by flame.

Soon the sun began to slip behind the nearby hills, bringing with it a growing anticipation for the evening’s main event: the fire balloons. Before launch each entry is brought to a judging station to be weighed. A typical balloon contains about 75 pounds of explosives, bringing with it the potential for both delight and catastrophe. Several days before my visit an errant balloon exploded too low to the ground, showering spectators with a bath of molten paper that injured 200. My guesthouse owner advised to bring a hat to protect my hair from catching fire.

Suddenly the evening’s first fire balloon began to rise from among carpet of tiny humans, a glowing, undulating mushroom of explosives silhouetted against the blackened sky. The crowd let out an excited gasp. The balloon inflated towards its maximum size, anxiously tugging at its tethering below. The handlers nervously gazed up at months of work and preparation, and released their offering to its fate. The balloon’s rise was unspectacular at first: lazily floating along, unsure of its purpose. Then suddenly, as if triggered by some celestial epiphany, the balloon’s base exploded in a massive powderkeg of light and sound and color and activity.

Nothing prepared me for that first explosion, bigger than any Fourth of July shell I had seen back home. It blanketed the sky and sent me running for cover, awed and delighted by what I had seen. Over the course of the next several hours another 6-8 balloons were slowly launched, but nothing compared to that first explosion. I spent the night lost beneath the festival’s many carnival tents, playing and drinking and celebrating with the locals until dawn. Then it was time to head home. All too soon, the vivid dream I had witnessed at Taunggyi was gone: floating off into my memory like the fragile fire balloons, slowly disappearing in the sky.

Curious to read more about visiting Myanmar? Read the initial post on my recent trip HERE.

Gadling writer Jeremy Kressmann is spending the next few months in Southeast Asia. You can read other posts on his adventures “South by Southeast” HERE.

South by Southeast: Who goes to Myanmar?

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Who does visit Myanmar these days? For Southeast Asia travelers exposed to a daily diet of CNN, Myanmar is literal no-fly zone, a destination with an infamous reputation for unrest, opium and political repression. Even as other “notorious” Asia destinations like Cambodia and Vietnam emerge into adolescence on the global tourist stage, Myanmar remains largely hidden from view – a mysterious actor shrouded in myth and secrecy.

It’s been nearly two years since Gadling’s Leif Pettersen first visited Myanmar, lifting the curtain on a country of sacred Buddhist shrines, Betel chewing and nary a fast food chain in sight. Not surprisingly, in the years since Leif’s visit, not much has changed. As I soon discovered, everything moves more slowly in Myanmar, from the masochistic 15-hour bus rides to the condensed milk that slowly oozes into your cup of Burmese tea. This “slowness” is further exaggerated by Myanmar’s isolation from the international community and the devastating Cyclone Nargis which hammered the country in 2008. The country’s already-meager tourist industry is still reeling from the shock.

But while Myanmar is indeed a tough place to visit, it rewards persistence. For Southeast Asia travelers willing to move beyond the media reports, one of the most incredible destinations on earth awaits your discovery: deserted temple ruins, gorgeous beaches, awe-inspiring festivals and most importantly, some of the friendliest, most welcoming people on earth. And despite what you’ve heard, Myanmar is actually one of the safest places to visit in Southeast Asia. Intrigued? Let’s start with a look at the details (and ethics) of visiting below…

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The Boycott
Let me dispense with the “elephant in the room” of Myanmar travel: the travel boycott. In short, the government of Myanmar has a long history of human rights abuses and political repression. This fact has long kept many travelers away, and many governments and organizations continue to urge travelers not to visit.

The pros and cons of visiting Myanmar could make up an article by itself, and there’s no simple answer to this question. Every traveler considering a trip should get the facts on the situation and answer this question for themselves. In writing about the country, my aim is to give potential visitors the information to help make that decision. A great place to start your investigation is over at Lonely Planet, which has a special section devoted to the debate surrounding travel to Myanmar.

Getting In
So what exactly is involved in entering Myanmar? Will you be strip-searched at airport? Taken hostage by balaclava-wearing rebels? Despite my initial misgivings, entering Myanmar was a relatively painless process. All that’s required is 30-day tourist visa available at most Myanmar embassies abroad for around U.S. $24. Any number of travel agencies, particularly those in Bangkok, can also guide you through the process if you’re willing to pay a little extra and/or don’t want to visit the embassy.

Getting Around
Traveling in Myanmar can be (literally) painful. Transportation options are slow, roads are poor and getting anywhere takes time. That said, the main transport options include:

  • Buses – Frequent buses connect the main tourist destinations in Myanmar. Buses are also the option most preferred by independent travelers, due to the fact they are privately (not government) owned.
  • Flights – if you’re not ready to tough it out for 15 hours on a stifling hot bus while your seat mate vomits out the window, flights are a good, if more expensive, alternative. Daily trips on Air Mandalay and Yangon Airways connect Myanmar’s major tourist sights. The state-run airline Myanmar Airways is to be avoided, both for safety and political reasons.
  • Taxis – another potential alternative to bus service hiring a private taxi, which can drive travelers between most destinations in Myanmar.
  • Trains – like much of the country’s infrastructure, Myanmar’s rail system is downright ancient. That said, daily trains are another (potentially) more comfortable alternative to the buses.
  • Boats – the most popular boat service runs between Bagan and Mandalay, with both a “fast” and “slow” boat service. Don’t let the world “fast” fool you: boat trips take anywhere from 9-15 hours.

For a complete rundown of options, refer to Lonely Planet’s excellent transportation overview.

What to See
The vast majority of Myanmar visitors spend their trip at “the big four” – a group that includes Yangon, Mandalay, Inle Lake and Bagan. The majority of these attractions, despite their supposed popularity, were relatively empty at the time of our visit. If you’re looking to get off the beaten track however, there’s plenty of small towns beyond these four main sights, begging to be explored. Here’s a quick roundup:

  • Yangon – Myanmar’s capital city until 2006, Yangon (Rangoon) remains the cultural and economic heart of Myanmar. Many visitors spend time getting lost in the city’s chaotic street culture and make a visit to Shwedagon Pagoda, one of Myanmar’s holiest Buddhist shrines.
  • Mandalay – the country’s second largest city, Mandalay is home to an intriguing patchwork of Chinese and Indian immigrants, royal palaces and plenty of good day trips, including the famous U Bein teak bridge in nearby Amarapura.
  • Bagan – if you think Angkor Wat is Southeast Asia’s most impressive temple complex, think again. The temple ruins of ancient Bagan are among the world’s most incredible archaeological sights. Spend your day biking among more than 2,000 deserted ruins, dating back over 800 years.
  • Inle Lake – arguably one of Myanmar’s most popular natural wonders, Inle Lake offers visitors an aquatic wonderland of floating vegetable gardens, jumping cats, and picturesque houses on stilts. A popular way to get around is by hiring your own boat for the day, visiting Buddhist temples and handicraft vendors.
  • Kalaw – the city of Kalaw is a popular starting point for treks, taking visitors past remote hill tribe villages and secluded Buddhist monasteries. Many travelers like to hike the short distance between Kalaw and nearby Inle Lake (around 2-3 days).

Hungry to learn more about Myanmar? Stay tuned…I’ll be sharing impressions and stories from my trip over the coming days.

Gadling writer Jeremy Kressmann is spending the next few months in Southeast Asia. You can read other posts on his adventures “South by Southeast” HERE.

South by Southeast: The Tao of long-term travel

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Welcome back to Gadling’s newest series on Southeast Asia, South by Southeast. Long-term travel is a topic with considerable baggage, both in the travel community and the world at large. For those tied to life’s obligations – jobs, children, mortgages – checking out to spend a few months (or years) on the road is irresponsible. For those righteously living out of a backpack on the other side of the world – nodding their heads smugly at their “enlightened lifestyle” – the people back home are afraid to take chances.

But both sides of this debate get it wrong. No matter your perspective on the issue, the decision to take a long-term trip must be grounded in personal circumstances and aligned with reality. To do it any other way is to fall victim to the same old travel cliches.

So what is long term travel really about? And how is it different than a vacation? The answer to this question is complicated – there are as many justifications for long-term trips as their are places to visit. But in order to give some perspective to the topic, let’s take a look at some of my own reasons for taking a long-term trip. Whether you empathize with me or think I’m an idiot, it will help explain why long-term travel isn’t just “another vacation.” Click below to see why…Long-term travel is not about “Escape”
Perhaps the biggest myth of long-term travel is you can escape responsibility and worry. Critics of long-term travel mention this as justification for why long-term travelers are irresponsible. To them, these individuals are all doing drugs on the beaches of Thailand and postponing the realities of life. Part of this argument rings true. If you hate your job and think going to Southeast Asia will fix your troubles, it’s worth taking a closer look at what’s leading to your dissatisfaction. The same issues that plague you at home will be waiting when you return.

But done properly, long-term travel has nothing to do with escape. Sure, there are backpackers out there “doing dope” and living off a trust fund. But to generalize all long-term travelers this way is an oversimplification. Instead, long-term travel is a life-affirming opportunity to open our minds to new ideas, new challenges and new ways of thinking.

Long-term travel is about slowing down
When I was working 9-5 every day, I treated my vacation days as precious gems. I spent hour after hour meticulously researching and planning my trips, scheming about where I would go and what I might do in order to maximize my time. If even an hour of the trip wasn’t enjoyable, it felt like the time had been squandered, lost to the ages. Instead of being able to live in the moment and enjoy my experience, I was too busy worrying if I was having fun.

Vacations are great, but we are all guilty of packing too much into them. Long-term travel allows us the luxury of time. We don’t have to rush from place to place, frantically taking in sights and acquiring painful new blisters on our toes. We can take our noses out of our guidebooks for a few seconds to look around. And if we find a place we love, we have the privilege of staying a few extra days.

Long-term travel is a challenge
It’s great when you plan every last detail of a trip. You know where you’re going and what you’ll be doing. But aren’t our lives already orchestrated enough? The best opportunities for learning and personal growth is not when we succeed, but rather when we fail.

The spontaneous, think-on-your-feet character of long-term travel forces us to make tough choices. In the process you’re likely to learn a lot about yourself and your priorities. And if you can adapt to tough circumstances on the road, it’s likely you’ll be able to do the same when you return home.

Long-term travel helps us meet the locals
Thanks to the Internet, we now know more about the world than ever before. But there’s a problem with this. Humans tend to seek out other humans and information that match our own values and interests. When we travel, we tend to follow a similar pattern, staying in the tourist quarter and isolating ourselves in hotels. There’s nothing wrong with this behavior, mind you, it just makes it more difficult to meet anyone but other travelers.

But arguably one of the best parts of travel is meeting the locals. It helps break down the “wall” tourism frequently creates and helps us truly get a sense of a place. But when our visits are short, meeting locals is made more difficult. The the knowledge of your imminent departure impacts your relationship. Long-term travel, again, is about the luxury of time. It’s over these longer periods that genuine friendships are formed.

Gadling writer Jeremy Kressmann is spending the next few months in Southeast Asia. You can read other posts on his adventures “South by Southeast” HERE.

South by Southeast: How to budget for long-term travel

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Welcome back to Gadling’s new series about Southeast Asia, South by Southeast. Starting in October, I’ll be spending the next four months traveling through this much-discussed destination. But as exciting as it is to travel for several months, you can’t just get up and leave overnight. Medical arrangements must be made, backpacks selected and most importantly, you’ll need to do some budgeting.

Perhaps the most daunting obstacle for anyone considering this type of long-term trip is deciding how much money to bring. It’s not an easy question to answer – search around online and you’re likely to find all kinds of responses, ranging from the extravagant to the frugal. So how does one create a budget for long-term travel? And how in the world do you save up the money to make it work? Let’s take a closer look at how to do it, in five steps.

1: Decide Where You’re Going
The most important factor in your budget is the decision of where to go. Although you don’t have to pick a destination when you’re planning a trip, it helps to choose regions you want to visit and consider general costs. As a rule of thumb, travel in North America and Western Europe is most expensive, whereas South America, Southeast Asia or Africa are far cheaper. For my trip to Southeast Asia, I took the region’s cheaper cost of living into account, deciding I could afford to stay longer and stretch my dollars farther.

It’s also worth considering how much you plan to move around. Will you be visiting multiple regions of the world? Or will your trip cover just a few neighboring countries? If you only have a week to see all of Southeast Asia, the flights are going to get expensive quick. But if you’re able to take your time, you might be able to save lots of money on cheaper bus, boat and train rides.

2: Get Some Inspiration
Lots of numbers get thrown out when it comes to travel budgets. According to general wisdom, $20-30 per day is enough for Southeast Asia. This includes a basic, clean guesthouse, three meals and a few activities. If you want high-end hotels, it can cost much more. Regardless of how you travel, wouldn’t it be great to have real-world examples? Thankfully, there’s plenty of resources online to help answer this question.

For general budget queries, head to the message boards at Bootsnall or Lonely Planet, where questions such as “How long will my money last in XXX?” and “Is $XXXX enough for XX months?” are frequent topics for debate. Even more helpful are the budgets of long-term traveler Megan and backpacker David, who posted detailed spreadsheets of their expenses online. With these figures it’s much easier to know what’s realistic and what’s not.

3. Don’t Forget the Extras
The general assumption of long-term travel is you’re on a tight budget. But keep in mind there’s a difference between “tight” and “idiotic.” For every expense you planned in your head, consider there are 10 others you haven’t. There are visa fees to enter some countries, immunizations, and of course, the occasional splurge on a nice hotel. Consider these “other” costs as part of initial budget. You’ll thank yourself later when you have the money to cover them.

Although it’s been suggested $20-30 per day is enough for my trip to Southeast Asia ($900/month), I’ve left myself a bit more to handle unexpected incidentals. That’s not to mention several hundred dollars I spent pre-trip on immunizations and anti-malarial drugs. Take these costs into account.

4. Get Creative About Earning
By now you’ve figured out where you want to go and settled on an estimated budget. Hopefully you’ve also left padding for those extra expenses. But a good question remains – how on earth do you earn this money? You do have a life after all, and putting it on hold to plan a long-term trip doesn’t mean you have to become a hermit. Instead, you need to get creative about ways to save up. Here’s a few ideas:

  • Bring lunch to work. Those meals out add up quick.
  • Coffee drinker? Brew it at home.
  • Have a mortgage to pay? Can you rent your home while you’re gone?
  • Sell stuff you don’t need. It’s amazing what people bought from me on Craigslist.
  • If you have a car, could you sell it and take mass transit instead? Or a bike?
  • Have friends over to your house instead of going out to eat or to the bar.
  • Take on a second job. There’s plenty of freelancing and web-based jobs like blogging you can do from home.

The key is to find a combination that works for you. Not everyone can give up their car, or stop paying their mortgage. Perhaps you even have children to care for. Whatever your circumstances, patience and commitment to a plan make all the difference. If you want to travel bad enough, you can find a way to make it work.

5. Remember You’re Coming Back (eventually)
It’s a great feeling to be able to spend the money you’ve been saving during your travels. But don’t forget that at some point, even if you extend your trip, you’ll probably want to come home. Remember not to spend your travel fund down to the very last dime – you might need a few bucks when you get back to rent an apartment and cover basic expenses during the transition.

Gadling writer Jeremy Kressmann is spending the next few months in Southeast Asia. You can read other posts on his adventures “South by Southeast” HERE.