Time Out
A parade of payas
SUDHA MAHALINGAM
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Bagan, a 12-hour boat ride down the Irrawaddy from Mandalay, is Myanmar's ode to Buddhism.
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Our first stop is Ananda Paya, Bagan's oldest and most beautiful edifice. Its tower bears the unmistakable influence of North Indian architecture.
PHOTOS: SUDHA MAHALINGAM
REACHING FOR THE SKY: The Payas of Bagan.
THE Mandalay-Bagan cruise on the Irrawaddy is not for the faint-hearted, especially if you're not travelling in a tour group herded by an ultra-efficient guide. You have to survive the trishaw ride to the boat jetty at four a.m., jostle for your space in the queue on a very wobbly gangplank, convince the inscrutable Myanmarese officialdom that you're not a spy, and finally, after obtaining that much-sought-after ticket for US $16, weave your way through a maze of backpacks of assorted sizes and shapes to claim your place under the sun - literally!
But believe me, it's worth it. Flanked by sculptured mud-banks sprinkled with stupas whose steep spires rise skyward as if in prayer, the river is tranquillity personified. Once you've colonised the deck with your meagre belongings, prepare for the sunrise on the Irrawaddy — a truly magical experience. Almost every passenger on board is on the deck, mesmerised by the silhouettes of the fishing boats against a blushing sky. The emerging fireball scatters a million golden stars that dance on the undulating surface of the water. The awed silence of the moment is rent by the clicks of hundreds of cameras hoping to imprison the moment for posterity.
Magical cruise
As the sun travels up the sky, aquatic birds in huge flocks entertain you with their chorused virtuoso antics. Today there is not enough water in the river and the boat is in danger of being beached on the sandbanks. Two sailors sit on the foredeck with their graduated sticks that measure the depth of water as the boat sails along. The journey takes all of 12 languorous hours during which you unwind completely. The boat reaches Bagan at the twilight hour. The region's fabled payas (Burmese for stupa or pagoda) line up in a parade of ceremonial welcome.
I have no prior hotel bookings nor any fixed itinerary in Bagan and this is February, the peak tourist season. But then, Myanmar is so perfectly geared to visitors that my week-long, loosely-planned travels through the country go off with clockwork precision. The best way to see Bagan is to float breezily above the stupas in a hot air balloon, if you're willing to spend US $250 for a one-hour ride. You could also pedal your way around in a hired bicycle, which is what the hardy tourists do. I choose the third option — of a clippety-clop ride in a horse buggy and trust the driver to find me a hotel and take me to the must-see spots, which he does, with practised ease.
The Dhammayangyi Paya.
Bagan is Myanmar's ode to Buddhism, as Borobudur is to Indonesia and Angkor Vat is to Cambodia. Situated in the dusty central plains of Myanmar, Bagan is literally a forest of stupas — more than 2,000 and still counting. From the moment you land, there is a never-ending procession of stupas of different shapes, sizes, height, colour, materials, vintage. Many are made of brick, some of stones and a few grand ones like the Anand Pahto dazzle with their golden steeples.
Traces of Indian influence
Next morning, my guide-cum-cart driver takes me on a day-long ride through the various stupas, keeping up a constant chatter on their history and outstanding features. Thanks to British rule and now tourism, many Burmese can communicate fluently in English. Our first stop is Ananda Paya, Bagan's oldest and most beautiful edifice. Its tower bears the unmistakable influence of North Indian architecture. The walkway leading up to Ananda Pahto is lined with stalls selling handicrafts. Exquisite lacquerware, so painstakingly handcrafted, dazzle with their aesthetic designs and colours. The frame is made of bamboo fibre and then it is plastered over and lacquered. I pick up a bowl and press it between my thumb and fingers. It is so supple that you can almost press the two sides together, yet so strong. It must have taken the craftsman several days to produce a single piece, yet because of the intense competition, the prices are ridiculously low.
Bustling town
The Mahabodhi Paya.
Street cafes seem to be very popular everywhere in Myanmar, although in terms of size, you could discount the Burmese cafes by a factor of 10. Tiny plastic stools, all brightly coloured, cluster around equally tiny plastic tables heaped with platters of steaming food. You might even relish the authentic Burmese fare provided you have not visited the local market. I had taken a stroll through the bazaar the previous evening and was struck by live specimens of fish, snakes and all kinds of creepy crawlies as well as disembowelled snakes with blood congealed on them — all local delicacies.
From my room in May Kah Lar Guest House, I have a vantage view of life as it unfolds in Bagan. It is a bustling town. There is an incessant flow of traffic — ancient buses, some very modern ones too, horse buggies, trishaws, that quintessential Burmese version of the rickshaw and bicycles. There are lines of nuns clad in pink going about collecting alms. And there are shops galore, selling everything from electronic goods to groceries. One other thing that strikes you about businesses in Myanmar is that the distinction between home and business is somewhat blurred. Often, the entire family lounges around in the shop, each busy with the day's activities — like cooking, sewing, cleaning, etc. Indeed, life in Bagan seems to move at a very relaxed pace; enjoying oneself seems to be much more important than making a sale.
Take a ride
No trip to Myanmar will be complete without a ride on that unique Burmese contraption called the trishaw. It is a bicycle with a sidecar attached and is designed for maximum discomfort, as much to the driver as to the passenger. But it comes in cheerful colours and with delightfully loquacious drivers who can regale you with local lore. I foray into residential neighbourhoods, soaking in life lived leisurely outdoors. Pretty women with streaks of sandal-coloured paste on their faces smile indulgently at my curiosity.
During my three-day stay in Bagan, I visit so many shrines that at some stage I think I have seen enough for an entire lifetime! My feet are sore from climbing innumerable stupas and my shoulders ache, weighed down by the camera bag. Yet I cannot claim to have seen even a fraction of what this temple town has to offer.
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