Myanmar: Bus to Kalaw

December 14th {notes from journal}

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Another bus story... my writing coach would be horrified...
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The bus picked us up outside our hotel at 4:30 a.m. It was shitty, but better than our first bus -- the seats were as wide as my shoulders this time. There was more leg room. The odd feature of the bus included a metal bar that created a barrier between the seats and the aisle, at about knee level. We're not sure if it was part of the support structure holding the seats in place or if it's to keep feat in their 'rightful' place and apart from the low, plastic stools that line the aisle for passengers who get on the bus too late in the game to get a real seat. I would have thought the wooden floor was odd as well, but our first bus had a floor made of wooden planks as well.

We watched the sky go from pitch black to red and orange just above the horizon line. The reflections on low clouds looked like lava; sugar palms were silhouetted against the orange and then yellow backdrop of the sunrise. It was worth getting up at such an early hour to see the day arrive -- we don't have enough conviction to rise so early, for the awakening of the sun on our own...

We had to return 1/2 way to Mandalay before branching off on a new road to get to Kalaw: cactus, sunflower fields, sugar palms, and coconut trees gave way to a different kind of landscape -- low bushes, scrubland, and brown, rippled mountains dotted with dark green trees (reminding me of the dry California and Nevada mountains). We traveled along a one lane road (highway), pulling off to let oncoming traffic go by -- outside of the cities, the roads in Myanmar are only the width of one-laners back home. Drivers on these roads work together cooperatively as no two automobiles can fit on the same patch of highway.

At the border to the Shan State, we were stopped at a checkpoint -- a red and white striped barricade was lowered over the road, guards were at the ready to check our papers. Everyone got off the bus and lined up but the authorities didn't bother looking at the foreigners' passports -- they were only interested in the ID cards of the Burmese. The sign posted on the guardhouse, "All respect. All suspect," set a tone of distrust -- guilty before innocent -- that is sobering.

Up, up, up into the mountains and the scenery changed again -- it became more like the SE Asian landscapes of Laos and Northern Thailand that we're familiar with: lush, tropical, jungle. Still... up we climbed on the twisting mountain road -- still upon a one-lane road with traffic mostly of huge, barreling trucks: their descent and our ascent was like the polite dance between strangers when entering and exiting the same door. This road was not your 'everyday' road, it's the type we at home would label on a map as the sort requiring a 4WD vehicle. Narrow and steep, it makes for a testing ride. I asked Benjamin if he thought it was 'nerve wracking' as I did. He replied, "No, it's scenic," and added a few minutes later, "and distracting..." I'm sure he meant the scenery was distracting him from the fact that, at times, we were required to pull over along the edge of a cliff to let a passing truck go by -- it's why I was feeling anxious at least.

Nearly 10 hours later we arrived in Kalaw, a former hill station of the British. They always built them high in remote mountains for relief of lower elevation temperatures (like Darjeeling in India). But in December, Kalaw is pretty cold and I'm reminded for the first time in so long of chilled fingers and stiff toes. Kalaw is tiny and lucky for us that it is -- we don't have much time to see the town: tomorrow we leave on a 2-day trek through Shan villages, plantations, and mountains. We've been traveling with a couple from Singapore: Jason and Samantha. We met them in Bagan yesterday when we shared a car to visit Mt. Popa -- they are now our travel buddies for the next few days...