Hsipaw welcomes you, foreigner

I started the day feeling extremely lazy, especially since I was literally woken (with a fright) from my slumber the day before by two lovely hotel staff (boys really) coming into the room for “turn down” service…in Hsipaw, Myanmar. “Turn down” service generally exists only in five star hotels in developed cities. Anyway, at Riverside resort in Hsipaw, it consisted of putting down the mosquito net and spraying insecticide, which was a necessity really. And for those who are wondering why I was asleep at 6pm, well I did get up at 4am that morning to take a 10 hour train ride!

So anyways, I was staring at the river and thinking to myself, should I continue watching my drama serial or should I head out? Reason prevailed. I remembered my dear Father telling me once during a holiday that I really shouldn’t be taking a plane to the middle of nowhere – Hsipaw in north-west Myanmar – to sleep (even though that’s exactly what he does!) In actual fact, Hsipaw is a small town where tourists come to trek for days to the neighbouring minority villages, which makes it such a waste to sleep it off!

I picked my lazy bones up and asked for a bike rental (too lazy to walk on first day). Well, it was indeed a two-wheel vehicle. I first glanced at the country paths full of small pebbles, then at the bike and I thought, well, let’s get it a shot. I regretted it the minute I started peddling. And more so when I hit the main gravel road with trucks and cars wheezing by up and down the uneven roads. The bike had no speeds. But of course!

Then came reading the map. The names of the roads did not match the road signs, naturally. This is when landmarks like river, bridge, monastery, mosque etc. become life-savers. As you dun need signs to tell them apart. I was happily looking for the post office but there was no sign in English so I had to go up really close to determine if it was indeed a post office.

My initial plan was just to wander around town, take a look at the market, find a nice fruit juice place called Mr Shake (which I didn’t find of course) and “nuah”. Well that didn’t happen. I took a second look at the map and realised that all I needed to do was to continue down the road and I would be at a place called little Bagan. I was not sure how “mini” this Bagan will be compared to the actual plains dotted with 3000-something stupas, but I decided to give it a shot! My better organised  friends may wish to find out how long the ride would take and how far it was. But honestly, how is it possible to ask anyone out here?

I started biking down the path and at the crossroads to the Shan palace, a British couple came up to me to say, “Hey if you are heading to the palace, it’s only open from 3-5pm. Just so you won’t make a wasted trip. Otherwise, it’s really pretty down there!” This is the beauty of travelling in these far flung places. People speak to each other and offer information generously!

As I get nearer to my destination, the next challenge arises. How do I identify the big tamarind tree indicated on the map, so that I would know when to turn left  to the Nat Shrine? Here’s the problem when a Singaporean city dweller reads a map like that. What in the world is a tamarind tree? And what is the definition of big? Are tamarind trees generally small? Where I come from i.e. the sunny island of Singapore, all trees are big!

So obviously I missed the big tamarind tree and I went all the way to a strange looking place with a big tree and a French flag and Burmese signs. I was staring at the tree wondering if this was the famous tamarind tree when I spotted a guardhouse. I decided to ask the two guys and they said, little Bagan is down that way. This is an army camp.

Oh great. So I nearly got myself killed for trespassing lol.

I doubled back and finally found the (big) tamarind tree. So I admit that when one takes a closer look, it’s impossible to miss. The tree is full of hanging tamarinds! Then comes the challenge of locating little Bagan. I found the Nat Shrine (housing Burmese spirits according to local tradition) alright. But when I was lingering at the Burmese version of the mama shop staring at the map and wondering where in the life is little Bagan, a guy points left to a small lane, with no signs of course.

The city dweller in me once again goes, hmmm, so what does he want from me? But then I started thinking. Isn’t it obvious what I’m looking for? I’m dressed like a (bloody) tourist. Where else can I go? So I quietly took that lane and once I saw two Caucasian tourists in front of me (difficult to find fellow Asian tourists in this part of the world), I knew I was on the right track!

At little Bagan, I ran into the Friendly British Couple (FBC) once again. We were all staring at this tree which was growing out the stupa and our conversation went like this:

FBC: I can’t imagine how they built the stupa around the tree.

Me: That sounds like a chicken and egg question though. I don’t see how they could have put all those bricks and cement around the tree.

FBC: Yea you are right. You know how you say things sometimes and then you go, that sounds ridiculous.

Me: (Thinking to myself) That’s because Ang Mohs like you generally say what you think instead of being like us Asians who think (long long) before we speak?

After little Bagan, I ended up at Mrs Popcorn’s garden and I found myself with all the tourists in Hsipaw. Long live Trip Advisor for uniting the world of lost tourists looking for decent places (by western standards) to eat where owners speak English and have English menus! I loved the place. Cute huts built with attap, bamboo chairs to lounge in long after a meal overlooking an organic garden of fruit and vegetables and loads of tourists reading, playing with phones (me), iPads, computers etc.

Last story of the day to prove that I am a bloody city dweller. One look at the menu and I thought – no prices. I decided to ask the nice old Burmese lady and she went – 2000 kyats. To which I heaved a sigh of relief. Not because I was worried she would con me with the prices – this is still pure, uncorrupted Myanmar after all – but because I don’t have enough local currency and I was afraid of being drained.

But at 2.50 SGD a meal, I think I still have enough for the trip!

Note: I realised after a while that every single item on the menu was priced at 1.25 SGD i.e. 1000 kyats. Honestly, why make life difficult by having different prices for every single item? Life could be so simple, really.