From the roads of Mandalay

I have always been fascinated by train rides, especially the ones in undeveloped countries. Only on these “bumpy bargain” rides will one see life unravel before your eyes. As the Post Magazine states with a cynical sense of humour, “Slow, grubby and unreliable, the Southeast Asian country’s trains offer just enough discomfort to make them perfect.”

Going up memory lane, I realise with a start that my numerous train journeys range from scenes of being surrounded by poultry in a train bound for Ayutthaya from Bangkok, experiences of bamboo baskets of vegetables being thrown in from the tracks filling up the circle train in Yangon, multiple trips testing out the soft and hard bunks of Chinese trains across the country, travelling on the train in Sri Lanka with tea fields and the sea within reach to a night spent in the middle bunk of sleeper train in India surrounded by Indian families chattering non-stop into the wee hours.

This time however is my first long-distance train ride in Myanmar. Having read numerous (horror) stories from fellow bloggers online, I was prepared for the worst.

At 4 am, the train station in Mandalay is an austere place with many homeless folks lining the floors leading up to the platform. When I got past that to reach my “upper seat” as indicated on the trace-paper thin train ticket, I guess the one relief is that it was a cushioned seat, compared to the wooden benches in the neighbouring cabins. As the train rattled on, I continued to see many families without roofs above their heads living next to the tracks, with only a blazing fire to keep the cold at bay.

As light dawns, I began to see life at play. The uniqueness of train rides in Myanmar lies in the leisurely pace. It stops for 15-20 minutes at every other station, giving passengers the opportunity  to get out onto the platform to check out the food and drinks, take a zillion photos and even have time to take a walk to the morning bazaar generally located next to the train station.

As we near the Goteik viaduct, all the tourists onboard started preparing their cameras – you see zoom lenses being pulled out as well as an array of gadgets. I for instance, was armed with a SLR as well as a wide-angle lens on my iPhone, ready to post on all the social media platforms existing on planet earth i.e. Facebook, Instagram, WeChat etc etc. Since when did travelling become so much work? Technology has made flaunting so painless and convenient that we often forget to bask in the glory of that particular magical moment, taking in the scenery for no one else but ourselves. So much for sharing the joy. Why bother anyway, I sometimes wonder.

Indeed. As we tourists were getting excited, the Burmese lady next to me was fast asleep. It’s strange how vastly different objectives can be. Foreigners flock to see this architectural feat, subjecting themselves to a 10-hour rain ride instead of a journey worth half the time by car. While locals endure the burden of time on the train in order to cut down on travelling expenses. An upper seat ticket costs a mere 4 USD – a true bargain for all the spoilt brats of the world.

To quote Paul Theroux in The Great Railway Bazaar, the Goteik viaduct is but a monster of silver geometry in all the ragged rock and jungle. Its presence was bizarre, says he. At a height of 100m, I peered into nothingness as I stuck my head out of the window, wondering how this was built back in 1900. Constructed by the British with material from the US in order to extend the railway line from Mandalay to Yangon, it was a transnational project meant to last only a century and yet has well withstood the test of time.

The entire crossing of some 700m of train tracks took 25 minutes, as if the train was taking care to protect the precious Gokteik viaduct which has already outlived its originally intended live span.

At this point, the notice i saw pasted on the toilet on the train comes to mind:                  

For Bridge preservation purpose, please avoid using toilet while passing Goteik viaduct.

Need I say anything more?