My journey through Myanmar was a memorable one, not simply due to the abundance of culturally rich historical sites or cuisine, but due to the warm spirit and hospitality of the Burmese people. Coming to nation relatively new to tourism I wasn’t utterly sure how I would be perceived as a foreigner so I kept my expectations to a minimum.
My last day in Myanmar was inspiring and I will be forever grateful for such a day. I spent my last day in Myanmar around the Inle Lake area. Having spent a number of days cruising around the lake and hiking, I decided to spend my last day relaxing and riding my bike around the surrounding areas.
I rented a bike from my hotel for just a $1 and set off in the late morning. I had no idea where I was headed, equipped with just a map, my phone, and a portable speaker I took off into the streets as I listened to the smooth sounds of John Coltrane. My first stop came about an hour later at a local temple where I sat and watched the monks perform their daily duties.
After 40 minutes or so, I continued forward. I rode for about an hour until I noticed a rather nice lake surrounded by a few homes. The area was completely silent with the exception of a few pigs and chickens roaming the area. Amazed by the beauty of this particular lake, I parked my bike and took a seat to admire the tranquil and scenic atmosphere. A few minutes passed by and the clouds began to turn a violent dark gray and within seconds it intensely began to pour. Stuck in the rain without any umbrella or coat, I quickly rushed to seek shelter under a tree. As I attempted to maneuver through the rain, I hear a voice shout at me in an unfamiliar language. I turn and see a young man who appeared around 15 signaling for me to come inside of his home.
Without hesitation, I rushed towards the boy and entered his home where I was met by his mother and sister. I was given a towel to dry off and I took a seat on the bamboo floor. I soon realize that none of the family members speak a single word of English. I attempt to introduce myself in the simplest way possible and they repeat my name. I soon learn their names, names which I can hardly recall except for “La la mu.” Next, I attempt to find out their age. I use my iPhone calculator to input “25” and point to myself. Their faces light up and they smile. Each of them inputs their age into the phone, and I confirm that the boy is 15 and his sister, 17. After a few minutes, their mother comes out and brings me some hot tea and cookies.
I go to the photo app on my iphone and show them a world map, I point to the United States and point back to myself. They nod and smile. I proceed to show them photos of my trips around the world and in Myanmar. They seemed to be particularly interested in my Myanmar photos, especially my photos of the big cities, Yangon and Mandalay. The mother comes back with a photo album of her own and walks me through each photo explaining the significance of each in Burmese. I smile and nod in agreement. She brings out more refreshments and we continue our conversation.
An hour passes and the sky clears up. I thank them for their hospitality and capture a few photos of the family. The mother presents me with a gift of thanakha, a yellowish-white cosmetic paste made from ground bark. I shake her hand as I exit. I retrieve my bicycle and the three sit by the entrance of their home as they smile waving goodbye as I ride away. As I begin the long journey back to my hotel, I sat on my bike with a smile trying to make sense of such kindness. Although I could not verbally communicate with the family, their warm spirit, hospitality, and general kindness spoke volume to me. It was a reminder of the real warmth and spirit of humanity.
