Life on Stilts - Inle Lake, Myanmar

November 19, 2011

Inle Lake, Shan State. Myanmar

Life on Stilts

On the eastern side of the country, about half-way between Yangon and Mandalay, lay a fertile region of the Shan State called Inle Lake. Many are its villages and monasteries standing on stilts like flamingoes. Peaceful is its heart-beat and plentiful is its rice. Tomatos grow in hanging rows over the water – apparently, some tomatoes don't need soil to grow! Giant machines separate rice kernels from the sheaths, though, some folks do this by beating their rice with a stick. The freshly gathered rice dries in heaps in the monasteries there and noodles are drowned in liquid tofu [tastes like creamy heaven or hollandaise x 10]. Golden pagodas rise seemingly straight from the water

and fishermen paddle with their foot on the paddle as though in a ballet.

Somehow, the colours seem much more saturated there – I don't know if it's the air clarity or some physical or mystical phenomenon that creates the effect. At the sunrise, the farmers from the adjacent villages bring their colourful goods to the main bazaar on boats and the unloading frenzy begins. My little shack was right on the river, so I got to watch them pass by in the mornings and come back empty at the end of the day.

I was supposed to go on a tourist boat [I'm not too fond of the kind], but because of the rain the boat didn't show up. Something told me to share some tea with the locals at the dock for a while. About an hour later, 40 locals or so show up and pile into 3 boats – none of the silly dignity of the “tourist” boats with 4 seats each – everybody piled onto the bottom of the boats, opened their umbrellas and got cozy. I jumped up and waved at them - “can I come with you?” My tea-drinking friends tried to wave me off saying: they just go to the pagodas and monasteries – they won't go where you want to go. Then I knew I HAD to go on one of those boats. I squoze into one of them and we sailed off into the rain.

It turned out that it was a major gift of luck – instead of going to the classic touristy spots [which I've never cared for], we went to nearly 20 sacred spots on the lake, with a chance to go into every one of them! And I got to share umbrellas and break bread with my Burmese companions – without knowing much of each other's language, we traveled as a family – laughed and shared what we could. At some point, we went to a monastery that healed cats – they picked up the cats in need of care around the lake and gave them antibiotics, bandaged and taught them to do tricks to raise a bit of money for medications. How does one's heart not warm by that? Such is the kindness of the common Burmese people.