Mingalaba

The Manau Kwa Tha hotel, guesthouse, sits at the far edge of town, across from the Police Station, just close enough to the main back packer/flash packer strip through the center of Nyuangshwe township at the north end of Inle Lake to make walking everywhere okay, except at night when that walk back in the dark is full of potholes and a scattering of motorbikes plus the occasional horse cart and gigantic Chinese truck. Nyuangshwe is not a hustle bustle place, but rather the embarkaration point for trips on the lake, which spreads out like a giant shallow pond at the foot between two mountain ranges in the Shan hills of northeastern Myanmar. It is cold at night, Bellingham cold, huge heavy Chinese blanket cold, wearing a beret at night cold, thinking maybe we should be at home with the furnace cold, but by 10 or so in the morning, the surreal mist burns off and it heats up fast. We plunged right in, booked a lake trip the day after we arrived. For the ridiculous price of $17, we took off through the water hyacinth clogged, tall reeded canals for the lake. It took about a half hour to reach the actual lake and what a sight it was! Our boatman steered us out the mouth of a canal and there was Inle, spread before us, flat, calm, clear, the water plants and the shallow bottom easily visible as our craft sped out into a vast water covered plain. The canals themselves offered ample bird life...white egrets, some sort of bird I mistook for a giant kingfisher, but on closer inspection, decided it wasn't, and others I wasn't quick enough to catch with either binoculars or camera. I'll have to consult a Birds of Asia book at home or on the web if we get a good connection. There were crows aplenty, lovely white dabbed blackbirds and hundreds of swallows as well as ducks and small gulls. We were on the tourist package...it can't be helped...and in the end, turned out to be just fine. Our first stop was a small market close to Nyuangshwe. There are five rotating markets around the lake...each day at a different village. Most are thronged with camera popping tourists and this was no exception, but it was interesting, mildly. Then on to the lake itself and the famous leg-rowing fishermen. The young ones who lurk near the entrance to the canals eagerly pose for the cameras, but as you venture further out, you see that the Intha, the tribal people who live on the lake, actually fishing and going about their business while you go about yours...bringing much needed revenue into an impoverished country by being a tourist...I'm sorry...you just can't avoid it, and this area is so beautiful, it's no wonder people want to come here. Our boatman did his best to steer us through areas where there were no other boats and that was awesome. We steered through village after village with stilt houses and real "streets" of water. It was truly fascinating. Our next stop was the weaving village. It's on the water too. The boats are docked at a small pier and up you go where an English speaking guide deftly explains the weaving processes that are actully in session (not just put on for the tourists). They weave the fiber of the lotus root and it is just scrumptous, with a price to match. I didn't get any, but I did get a Shan longyi for myself, which one of the ladies made up into a wrap skirt while I waited. Their silk is woven from thread brought in from the northern Shan hills and is done in a heavy, drapey weave. They also do local cotton and the girl was very helpful when I asked about natural dyes. She said they don't use naural dyes, but purchased fiber-reactive ones. The colors were irresistable, however, I did manage to restrain myself and purchased modestly. After a nice visit and many photos, we moved on to the cigar making place where Muzzy purchased a small supply, actually, probably more than he wanted, but I wanted the boxes they came in. What makes all of this different than other trips is the fact that it is all done on the water, this great plain of water with its own life carried on in small dugout canoes steered by men, women, and very young children. Even the cats have adapted to life on the water. I am glad we opted for a private boat. Our young boatman, who kept caging cigarettes from everyone, even asking me to get him one, did an admirable job, slowing down to allow Muz to take photos and waiting patiently while we got in and out of the boat.

Out to Inle Lake

Nyanyshwe Market

Intha Fisherman

Cheroot Making

Lunch was next on the agenda...unremarkable as is much of the food up here. I think I am a bit full of fried rice and fried noodles. I am writing from the only wifi place in town and they have those big crepe like pancakes with various toppings that travelers like...yummm...almost a roti. After lunch, we explored the temple and headed for the barn. I used an umbrella for the ride back and probably should have done so on the way out. I am a bit of a lobster gal today.
Today was market day in Nyuangshwe and with some artful sign language and much encouragement from Mr. Muzzy, I enlisted the help of a young Bao tribeswoman and another older respectably dressed matron who directed me to the one stall selling Bao tunics and jackets. They are unremarkable to anyone but a dyed in the wool fabric costume junkie like myself, but I got a tunic that fit and a jacket from which I can make a pattern. I love it! The expereince of shopping was worth more than the 10,000kyat I spent on them, about $12. The market was noisy, crowded, full of chillis and veggies and flowers and eels and chickens in modest headless chicken poses and all the other things that Asian markets contain...when you engage in conversation, the first thing you are asked is if you are married, how old you are, if you have children...it is the same all over Asia and I love it.

Market Day Nyuangshwe

Scales

We are nearly midway in our journey...doing okay. The guesthouse/hotel here is fine, Mr. Muzzy and I are navigating the roads okay, taking photos, exploring side roads, resting and reading and laughing a lot. The one mishap is that I have left part of one of my mollars in a traditional Shan food house. But as a veteran of these teeth tragedies, Mr. Muzzy assures me I will survive.
You know...we are sending these little self-indulgent missives out into the universe...feel free to comment! In a couple of days we decamp from the hills and head for the plains of Bagan...by bus, which the sweet young Bao travel lady assures us is very comfortable...where have we heard that before?