Nouvelle 17. Translated by Michel Aronssohn.

ANOTHER BURMA

At last I found the Burma I wished to discover, the one described by my friends.

Arrival at YANGON on Sunday may 28^th 2006, 7h30 pm. Of course I walk without stopping, in front of the change booth. I am back at the “OKINAWA” guest house. I am already habitué.

               The next morning, without loosing time, I exchange Thai baths. I keep the US Dollars aside to pay for the air tickets. My Dollars reserves on the boat are getting low. In Cambodia only you can get the precious greenbacks instead of the local currency.

              Big haggling about the exchange rate : One dollars equals 1250 Kiats, one Euro : 1400. I close with 30.6 kiats for one bath.

I prepare the itinerary with the travel agency secretary and order the tickets : 4 flights for 350 $. The deal is concluded. I have an appointment tomorrow on 2 p.m. to withdraw the tickets.

I walked barely 30 meters out of the office when  the employee hurries up back to me : “Come back, come back ! Problem ! (in English of course).

I was pretty sure to have stories to tap on my keyboard !

“The ticket to Puta O, no possible, zone forbidden to foreigners, you need Government authorization. Go to ask information at the Ministry of Tourism”.

            So here we are !!!

It is not possible to get authorization to go alone to Punta-O, I must take a guide appointed by the Government. Therfore I must buy a “package” : guide, hotels, fixed itinerary… Plus five days delay to get it and, last but not the least the price of the package is : 990 US $ only.

After only 24 hours here I am badly getting to loose my temper.

Before leaving my daughter asked me the promise to stay zen.

When we travel in Asia, especially in Burma and Cambodia the employees are always front line and get the blames or complaints actually destined to the boss and feel themselves guilty.

I agree, but I have in front of me this employee with a broad smile thinking about the big bucks.

“Dear Madam, Distinguished commissar of this f… government, the Captain suggests  to keep your “package” and to use it, should the case may be, as a poultice or to fulfill any other desire more intimate ! Am I zen ?

I take off on Tuesday 30^th, northbound to Myitkyina, a city situated 300 km south of puta-O which is a dead end.

One word on this forbidden town. It is a small city to the extreme north of Burma, nested at Himalayan’s bottom, with sparsely disposed wooden chalets. The Chinese border is located at eight days walk (no roads). The people is of the  Kachin ethnic group, however with different origins (Chinese, Tibetans, Mongols). In short I cannot go there, I regret it as a coveted inaccessible toy. Forget about it,  I’ll not annoy you with my regrets.

Nevertheless I am in Northern Burma in the Kachin province.

The city of Myitkyina counts roughly 10000 citizens, has an airport, a youth hostel and three hotels. I select the Pantsung after bargaining the room to 12 Dollars, breakfast included (it was better in Yangon). I pay in Kiats and the exchange rate is 1400 instead of 1250.

The building poorly maintained, badly needs a  good cleaning, it is a bit sad with a concrete cubic shape, however it is luxury ! Air conditioned, fan, fridge and cable TV with four programs : Myanmar TV, a program with Thai movies where  four erotic kisses escaped censorship, one with adventure and discoveries and the BBC world.

Colored animated markets allow to meet the numerous minorities living in the region : Lisu, Gurkha, Rawan or Lishaw.

There are few pagodas, numerous cults are present, Baptists and Catholics are the majority, Buddhists obviously, even Jehovah’s witnesses.

At the supermarket the prices are displayed in Kiats, the cash register prints a ticket with a total in Chinese currency which is multiplied by a 1.63 coefficient giving finally the price to be paid in kiats. What is the exact meaning of this operation ?

The next day I hire a tuk-tuk to the origin of the Ayeyarwaddy. This peculiar river has no source. His origin is fixed  at the confluence of the rivers Mali Hka and Nmai Hka.

I hesitated to select the transportation mean. I should have followed my first intuition, to take a bus, more exactly a truck bus. The state of the road is, to the least, catastrophic, to a point I advised my tuk tuk driver to run in the fields along the track. By the way in Burma trafic  is right hand.

After 3h30 of a chaotic trip, I look at a stupa marking the confluence, goal of this trip. After few kilometers more the driver stops in front of a river, I assumed that at a first glance. I note the electric wires crossing the river, with the water barely one meter below.

We are at the beginning of the rainy season, the road is inundated, submerged. Two  small boats are used for crossing, however it is impossible to carry the tuk tuk. The truck buses are using another longer road not fit for a three wheeled  vehicle. The solutions are simple either the boat and 6 km walking, or going back.

We mutually agreed to the second solution.  The way back using another road gives me the opportunity to discover some villages and to meet the Kachin people overflowing with kindness. We are, as already specified,  at the beginning of the  southwestern monsoon, the sun is appearing rarely, the pictures will not be flashy.

I would like to tell this story :

After having taken a good dinner in an Indian restaurant, I decide to go to a bar restaurant where draught beer is available. It is 8h30 p.m., no light in the streets, I was walking trying to avoid potholes. Rare cars or mopeds headlight are giving few light from time to time. I note a figure coming in front of me. Since men are wearing sarongs it is difficult to identify who is coming. A welcomed headlight flashes : it is a woman. I keep on walking watching the holes to avoid any wrench to my ankles.

The good (I presume) lady is now ten meters away, I discern in the night a bigger hole and make a big step right to avoid it. The chick, thinking I had intentions on her, run off like a 100 meters start up at the Olympic games, shouting loudly. I finally understand the situation, now the Captain is considered as a sex maniac.

To have such a reaction it is probable that, from time to time, at night, in the dark streets, women are enduring unexpected caresses from men in love.

To go to Kyaing Tong, situated in east Burma, I am obliged to transit through Mandalay. Planes schedules oblige me to sleep one night in this beautiful city, a little bit too tourist but nevertheless attractive. I found some friends, happy to see me again and unhappy for my one day stay only.

A precision about the present authorizations and permissions in Burma. During my last stay Burmese and foreigners emitted the opinion it is possible to go anywhere. To no avail, after the Puta-O incident I learned that the city of Mogok situated in the rubies valley is also strictly forbidden to foreigners.

In the plane to Kyaing Tong a young Swiss told me he listened and read that it is possible to go to Mong La, situated 55 miles (88.5 km) north of Kyaing Tong on the Chinese border. Upon arrival at Kyiaing Tong airport I asked the immigration officer. He is in agreement on this point. It is possible to go there without signed permission.

Upon exiting the airport a boy is showing up a board with my name printed in huge characters. What the hell I committed again ?

Hi sir I’m your guide.

Thank you I have no guide an don’t want one.

The tuk tuk driver drives me in a correct guest house for 8$ by night.

Before leaving he asked me if I need further services, then, he pursued : what is your religion ?

Noting my surprise he followed :

-I am a Jehovah’s witness.

-Congratulations I replied, it’s up to you.

-Where do you come from ? France ? OK page 32, he showed me the page for reading. The page was written in perfect French. It explained that everything is better in Paradise, happiness only and a good life full of love…

I replied :

-         When do you expect to go there ? You should show this passage for reading to your dictator Than Shwe, he may go there as soon as possible and stay forever, avoiding to resuscitate.

I left the driver thinking not to hire him again another time.

Through this town all merchandises traffic between Thailand an China is transiting.

I offer to a young biker to visit all villages around Kyaing Tong. I discover all the ethnic groups with their traditions and their costums.

We are in a Akha village, I point out to the biker that there are a lot more dogs here.. Of course he replied : they eat them.

So they don’t trust in reincarnation ?

Perhaps but for sure they don’t expect to be reincarnated as dogs.

We resume our run and I discover a hot spring with a strong sulfur smell. Impossible to put hands without burning, the temperature is nearing 100°?

Dear comrade driver, do you agree to drive me tomorrow to Mong La ?

Yes but we need an authorization.

No the immigration officer at the airport confirmed we may go.

Ok tomorrow we go at the market to buy Chinese currency then we go to the immigration to take your authorization and let’s go to Mong La (88.5  km).

And the captain hum on a known tune : Zen Zen Zen

Mong La is situated east of Burma, located in the Burmese territory at the border with China. It is not possible to pay with Burmese currency, the only currency accepted here is the Yuan. The fee to enter the city is of course paid in Chinese money, 1 Yuan = 162 kiats = 0.12 Euro, that is 37 yuans plus 5 for the moped !

At last we are on the road to the border town. I am surprised by the quality of the surface. It is really well finished since it is a importtant itinerary.

There are three passes to cross through. Upon departure I point out to the young driver that his moped is not the same than yesterday’s, it seems in worse shape. He put my mind at rest, by specifying it is older but better.

After one hour drive we begin to climb the stiff road to the first pass. Upon exiting a turn he changed gear, and accelerated abruptly, a sinister crack, and the chain awfully hangs on the rear wheel  pinion.

We drove back  freewheeling and stopped in front of a house. A big bellied boss comes with a drum used as a toolbox, and what tools !!! Looking at the broken chain he sat and look, staying still, he can do nothing.

Another moped comes, the drivers are discussing, I assume (nobody speak in English) the new one will drop its client and come back to pick me to resume the trip.

A tuk tuk comes around. The driver seems very smart, he emptied the “tool drum” exhibit  two rusted links with a large red smile foaming with betel.

So we’ll be helped out. I convinced them that I don’t agree to use again the old moped since the chain, for sure, will break again soon.

So my driver let me understand to wait.

The other driver shows up after delivering its client, discussion with my driver, 4000 kiats are switching hands but the switching does not stop there. Each one exchange the number plate on the moped.

OK the captain got it, you are the smartest, guys, I’ll resume the trip with my driver on the quite new moped bearing the plate of the old carcass with the broken chain. This exchange is necessary since the moped number is mentioned on my travel  license.

Between Kyaing Tong and Mong La, four police stations are checking everything passing by, they search the pockets of poor Burmese leaving the rice fields to go back home.

We arrive now in this city without charm, everything has been built tasteless. An interesting museum shows that Myanmar is fighting on its territory against traffickers and especially strong drug producers, pure smoke and mirrors.

Every time I spoke on drug subject, reactions are the same as for politics, everybody is definitely dumb, that is to say : “here there are no poppy fields however certainly in Laos or Thailand you’ll find.”

It seems to me to be actually in China, all information in the shops are in Chinese, people speaks Chinese, fortunately enough also Burmese or Thai. Schools students only are still wearing the traditional Burmese white and green outfit.

After lunch and the visit of the street market (the groups defending animals welfare should be busy here).

I suggest to drive back visiting villages along the road. Fortunately enough the driver has a good memory and remembers me to have our authorization chopped by the administration. The officer explains that we must come back after two hours (it takes time to give one signature). I let him understand that we hare in a hurry and prefer to wait on the spot, so I sit,  completely limp, to show my decision to stay here. Then the policeman exhibits a 100 yuan note. This guy is perhaps expecting a bribe, he doesn’t know the Captain. I take his note with thousand thanks to show my gratitude for the gift ! The driver was bursting laughing. As he was sufficiently far from the desk he made the sign “thumb up” and said “you number one”.

With the story of the number plate we are both smart.

Nothing to note on the way back, the trip was calm and peaceful. I admired the road  finding its way across the mountains.

From time to time a spring appears, everywhere the luxuriant vegetation recalls us we are in a tropical area.

After this short period in this nice city, east of Burma and the province of Shan, I am sure that the best word to qualify it at best is “slowly”.  I heard it many times since the people was thinking I was always hurrying up too much.

If, in accordance with the proverb, I come back a third time to Burma, I’ll travel again for sure to Kyaing Tong. I like this city, the Burmese are fantastic, full  of kindness and generosity.

Conclusion :

The venerable Aung San Suu Kye invites the foreigners to boycott her country as long as the present junta is ruling, in order to dry up the ruler’s financial resources and weaken it.

I am not convinced that the presence or the absence of 600000 yearly tourists, among them 12000 French, will help or weaken the junta who is making profits out of raw materials and business with China. Total Company is exploiting natural gas fields and helps Burma on scholar and sanitary problems, the French government, fervent defender of democracy… is very shy and applies a method similar to the one in Tibet useless verbiage, claptrap.

The Myanmar is not a place for tourists lacking exoticism. The generals headed by senior general Than Shwe are showing the door to ASEAN or UNO emissarie, and this  not later than last month.

In february 2005 the junta gave notice of administration transfers to Pyinmana. This is now completed. The main reason for this  is the vulnerable position of the capital, Yangon in front of a outer military attack.

During a flight over Pyinmana area I have noticed that all the groups of buildings destined to receive ministries, administration or generals homes are absolutely identical and distant each others roughly 2 kilometers.

Difficult to know who is there.

Knowing the Burmese and the regime, without a foreign intervention, Iraqi or Kuwait style Myanmar will stay locked in its standstill  for a long time to go.

                              Don’t forget to see the pictures by clicking "here."

                                              Click Next         Go back Summary

           It's he!!!!!