Living with Monks

I got up this morning, packed up, and then went and checked out. Today we would be hiking to the Yasagyi Village Monastery. I met my guide and we caught a "taxi" in to town.


The Myanmar people are a little people and there is barley enough room for two passengers and my pack.


We got to town and went to the market to pick up food and water for the next two days. I was also going to get some candy as I knew we would be walking through a number of villages and the kids would enjoy some. My guide said it would be better to get them pens for school instead. The adult in me thought that this was a great idea, but the kid in me thought I was about to disappoint a lot of kids. In a rare adult win, I ended up buying 50 pens. We headed out of town and quickly came across a monastery, however this was not the monastery we would be staying at tonight.




I asked my guide last night if it was going to be hot for today’s hike. He said it would not be too bad. Around 9am this morning I realized what a relative term "hot" was, and figured his home town where they were having that balloon festival, must be like living on the sun. My guide also picked up a balloon kit that we would launch later on this evening. The information I received on this hike listed it as "moderate difficulty". However the elevation gain is minimal and the terrain is easy to navigate, but when you factor in the 2000 degree heat, and the fact that you are in direct sunlight 90% of the time, it earns a respectable "moderate difficulty" rating. It was not long before we came across our first village.




A few people peeking out to see a white guy.




Some coffee beans drying out.


This girl already had quite a pen collection.


It was good that no one here had red teeth, I’m not saying they did not crew Betel Nut, but at least they were brushing, which is more than most people did.


We came across another monastery, but again, this would not be the one we would be staying at. I took a break to apply a second coat of sun screen and consume another water bottle. The water bottles in Myanmar all come from the same place, and they suck. The plastic is too weak and compresses easily. So when you grab it tight enough to open the top and break the seal, you can’t help but squeeze the first few sips out as a complete loss.




Once I was hydrated and had a new layer of sealant on we took off again. We passed a number of people on the trail who appeared to just be going to town or another village. My guide spoke to most of them, and claimed they were all heading to the balloon festival in his home town.


The entire family works to keep everything going.


The kids were very interested in me and came out to say "Hi".




Some bamboo that reminded me of the floors in my home.


We finally got to the village of Paluang, where we would have lunch. They, like everyone else, farmed tea. Everyone grows as much as they can, and then brings it in to town to a tea broker.




It was nice to sit down in the shade for lunch. I slapped on another coat of sun screen, and then rehydrated myself. I really enjoyed Myanmar beer, it was a nice clean, crisp, lager.


Oh crap, I know where this is heading.


For lunch we had the fish we purchased at the market, along with rice and vegetables, and a side dish of chilies. They had a nice stock of fire wood.


Once we finished lunch we headed out, leaving the village behind us.


We continued on the trail as the sun pounded us from above. By now the temperature had risen to around 3000 degrees, didn’t really matter if it was celsius or fahrenheit.






How hot was it? It was so hot that you can use the milk from this cow directly in a cappuccino.


We continued on and my guide was falling behind. It was nice to see that "Mr. Oh it won’t be that hot" was feeling the effects of the heat. And even nicer that when we passed others I was far enough ahead to not have to hear that they were heading to the balloon festival in his home town.






Then finally off in the distance we saw the village that we were heading to.


We got to the edge of the village.




We continued on to the monastery.




And somewhere around here was a naked monk.


This monastery, like most in Myanmar, is open to anyone who is in need of a place to stay. Bedding is provided, however there is no guarantee of the last time it was washed.


I setup my bed making sure to not point my feet towards Buddha. I would be joined by a young Belgium couple later on tonight. The monks had their own private quarters.






With my bed setup I headed outside to check out the village. I saw some kids playing, and once they saw me take out a camera they came running.


They loved playing with my camera and even got a bigger kick out of my video camera. They ran around pretending to trip and fall. I would rewind it and they would watch it and laugh. We could not communicate with words but sharing this moment was all we needed, and our laughter did our communication. This is one of those times that you know is very special, and it is something that you will keep with you for the rest of your life. I’m so fortunate to be here, to experience this. These kids were great and I love hanging out in villages like this.






The washroom. I opted for the packet of body wipes I brought along with me.


The local villagers bringing dinner to the monks.


I was going to be eating at a village home and my guide and I headed out.


We passed some villagers sorting coffee beans.


We came across some kids and I handed out more pens. I was surprised to see how happy they were to get pens instead of candy. School is actually educational and taught by teachers here in Myanmar, instead of the mindless busy work taught by babysitters, like it is in the US.




We continued walking through the village.








A few more kids out playing before the sun went down.


And a few more pens for them.


We then got to the one room bamboo hut where we would be dining this evening. Our host was starting the oven.


I took the tour when I turned my head to the left, here is where all six of them sleep.


The family who lives here. It is a simple life but a happy life. They don’t have much, and therefor don’t have much to worry about, they have very little stress.


Me with the family, and this simple life was starting to wear off on me. Living in a simple yet sufficient house, bamboo floors, real fireplace, beautiful views, and amazing people. I could see living like this, I understood this. They are living the way we are suppose to live, but have long forgotten.


The Myanmar people are great, they are very warm and giving. Americans are so guarded, so paranoid, and so few would open their house to a complete stranger, sit down and enjoy dinner with them. This is what I came here for, to meet these kind of people, to learn from them, and enjoy their company. We ate and talked for a few hours, with my guide interrupting. The old man was every bit as interested in my life as I was with theirs. He said he was so happy to have me dining with him in his house. The few travelers that do come by just look at them, maybe wave to them, but no one really talks to them or spends time with them. I told him what an honor this was for me to be a guest in their house, and to share each of our stories, and I'll do my best to tell others to stop in, sit down, and talk, we are all just people. Rumors spread of a white guy in the village who was visiting with a family and soon neighbors were coming by to see me.


Even the livestock was stopping by.


I was getting that feeling again, how did I get so lucky to have this experience. In a remote village in Myanmar only accessible by foot, I get to sit in a family’s one room bamboo hut, eat with them, and chat with them. This again was one of those nights I’ll never forget, and will take with me the rest of my life, it’s a good life, my life.

Before leaving, one of the neighbors wanted us to come to their house for a cup of tea. I was blown away by the invitation, and so happy and honored. Yeah, the couple on the train to Lao Cai were right, the Myanmar people are amazing people. Myanmar was proving to be just as emotional as Bhutan, and I was loving it.


This man used to grow opium, at the time no one cared and it was good money, but then it became illegal and he had to start over, this time growing tea. It takes five years before a tea plantation produces leaves that can be used, and he said it took him a long time to build the hut we were now sitting in.


It was getting late and we had to walk back to the monastery. Plus my guide was getting excited, having picked up a balloon kit at the market this morning, it was almost launching time. He could not make it to the balloon festival in his home town so this was the next best thing. This was great and I’m glad he shared it with me, although I had a feeling we would be reliving it again on the entire hike tomorrow.




Wow, I don’t even know what to say, I was so thankful for all the people on this journey that have touched my heart, and I hope I was able to give them as much as they gave me. I lied down on my mat, and with Buddha on my right, I said a little prayer, "I hope that Belgium couple does not snore".

VIDEO: Day 2 - Shan Villages