Returning to Myanmar to See Inlay Lake

Yangoon, Myanmar. Flying into Yangon I was full of apprehension, would it be as welcoming, the people as kind, the streets as safe as the last time? I had returned to Myanmar, formally Burma, to see Inlay Lake which I had missed visiting thirteen years earlier. I was expecting some changes but not the throngs of people that made up the streets of Yangon I witnessed on the trip from the airport to the hotel. It was quite a shock.

Inle Lake Photograph: A man's foot and leg. Photo courtesy of Stephanie Newell.

People were everywhere and the small shops were open and restaurants that did not exist thirteen years prior were full of people watching television.

There were no more empty spaces along the road into town and where there had been there were three and four story buildings. The streets were engulfed in traffic which at eight o’clock at night was a surprise as the last time I was here so few cars were on the streets. It was the taxis, small little cars that I remember; they would appear a few minutes apart and in 1997 they owned the roads at this time of night.

The hotel was a delightful oasis in a small neighborhood where the embassy houses remain. The Governor’s Residence Hotel, an Orient Express property is lovely and serene and in a very quiet neighborhood. It was here that we were introduced to the two major vineyards of Myanmar. One started by a French concern, the other German and surprisingly the German’s wines were by far was the superior wines.

The following morning the group I was traveling with and I were on our way to Heho, the airport which serves Inlay Lake. The turbo prop was immaculate and the cabin staff terribly friendly and kind. And like in South America, even a fifty-minute flight necessitates a quick box lunch meal to be served and then collected after a drinks service. Oh, such a whirlwind of work for the cabin crew to accomplish.

I have discovered in Myanmar on this trip especially that the people are fiercely hard working and proud to excel at whatever they are required to do, whether tending their land, performing their trade or working any sort of job. They are so terribly kind and brimming with a Buddhist generosity of spirit and helpfulness. This could be due to their belief in reincarnation. I might be a bit more generous and kind if I believed if I was not I would return as a rat, snake or insect for accumulating too many demerits. Kindness and purity of heart is the key to nirvana which all true Buddhist strive to achieve in their lifetime.

After landing at a very rudimentary airport, we were driven an hour to the town of Nyaungshe which is at the Northern end of Inlay Lake. It is picturesque and is where many of the tourists on a budget stay in guesthouses when visiting the lake.

Here we boarded long boats outfitted with five lounging wooden chairs for the journey to the hotel. They are roughly twenty-five feet in length low to the surface of the water and propelled by a long ten foot shaft which sits in a cradle and can be lifted or pulled in and has the screw or propeller at the end. As we departed the pier the main canal appeared which lead out into the lake itself. The life along the canal was bustling

People were everywhere along the canal bathing, washing their hair, brushing their teeth, Gaugin would have been in his element here. They bathe in public in a tube of cloth most men and woman wear in Myanmar. It is called a longi and is basically a sarong, a tube of cloth that is hinched in the middle for men and to one side of the hip for women. It provides privacy as they bathe side by side or in front of half the village at times. They are not a shy people, however they are modest and the bathing ritual is lovely to watch. Don’t expect any private parts to be exposed. They plunge into the water to rinse themselves and take a nice swimming dunk from time to time, always with a smile on their face, even when unaware a tourist might be around. When they are finished bathing they pull over their head a clean Longi and pull the other one down under the new longi clearing their legs. It is seen often around the lake and up and down the Chindwin and Irrawaddy Rivers. It is a beautiful sight with the backdrop of the mountains looming three thousand or more feet from the lake’s valley floor. Many of these scenes include children playing in the water together as they do worldwide in ponds, rivers and lakes. Witnessing loving private moments of mothers holding their children laughing with pleasure and fathers with sons enjoying the water itself demonstrating such familiar love, such pure human beauty. The Myanmar are constantly demonstrating their love for one another and are so accustomed to other people being around they are not shy to do so. They really are a lovely people to be with. But this is another article.

The houses perched above the canals and around the lake on teak pilings are clad often in bamboo which has been “skinned” thus creating very long thin ribbons to weave into wall panels of many different woven patterns. Often these houses are painted in bright colours and there is pride shown in the upkeep of these dwellings. All have a floating platform where often the bathing or washing up of kitchen utensils and of course dishes can be seen. At certain times of the day , private long boats which are elegantly carved with a pair of fluted finials on the stern often in the shape of two dragon heads are often tied up to these. I wondered whether or not each family had two boats as what did the others do when the men were out fishing or tending their floating gardens? A two boat family? Lovely faces of the villagers, mothers and children with grandmothers watching from windows above are dotted along the canals.

As we approached our hotel situated at the end of a main canal a man boards the long boat, the engine is shut off and then begins the famous and most fascinating leg and oar maneuvering by the boatman to propel the boat toward the hotel in silence broken only by the splash of the oar in the water. Unforgettable! He propels and steers the boat with his leg wrapped pole. It is a bit like punting on the Thames.

The Hotel Princess Inlay Lake is another Orient Express property and like the Governor’s Residence, it is lovely with lush grounds situated around lotus filled ponds. Here on the lake it is the perfect spot to escape the world. No internet, no telephones, just a sanctuary in a blissful land.

The hotel is made up of many independent huts situated along the bank of the canal commanding astonishing views across the valley and the lake. When I awoke the following morning I discovered that I had incorrectly set my alarm. I rushed to the dock and discovered that everyone in my group had already left for the grand tour of the lake. I ate a small breakfast as they secured a private long boat for me. This was serendipitous as it proved to be the most wonderful experience that I had and could only recommend it to everyone.

When my boatman came and I boarded again a long five chaired boat I decided, no, not the chair, I am going to lay over the bow of the boat. It was my charter. With camera in hand my chest and stomach hugging the contour of the bow we made our way through the many canals the wind blowing through the little hair I have left. It was movie-like. I felt as though I was gliding over the water witnessing unforgettable very private scenes and breathtaking sites.

Formidable rows of layered cut grasses (which conveniently grow with air pockets in the stem like bamboo ) allow a good two feet of these grasses to float well. Atop the grasses they pile dredged soil from the lake’s bottom, and these are the structure that form the rows and rows of floating gardens. They keep them in place with bamboo poles driven through at intervals and down into the lake-bed beneath. On these they plant their crops. The lake’s average depth is only seven feet and it is no deeper than twelve. These floating gardens are where the best tomatoes in Myanmar are grown. Ask any local anywear in Myanmare and they will tell you the same. Tomatoes from other areas are good only for sauces. They are small like a roma tomato but packed with flavor. They could easily compete against the fantastic tomatoes produced in August and September in New Jersey or the Eastern End of Long Island back in the USA.

The tomato, vegetables and flowers are grown in long trellaced rows and men and women tend to these while remarkably standing in their long boats . It is really quite a beautiful site. AND it is not for the tourists. They work very hard in the blazing sun.

Upon leaving the canals of the village we entered the main lake where the men are busily fishing while standing up in their boats. There are basically three types of fishing going on in the lake each a spectacle to see. The most dramatic is the casting a large net while the man operates his boat much like the man who led us to the hotel. With his leg wrapped around the oar he maneuvers the boat as he casts out his hugs net. It is a photographers dream against the panorama of the distant mountains spotted with Pagodas and many stupas with gilt crowns. Now here is where my tardiness paid off. Whenever I showed any interest in any subject to photograph my boatsman would circle around, cut the engine to an idle and wait for me to motion to go on. What a treat.

Another meathod of fishing is brilliant, much like orca whales and some species of dolphins blowing bubbles while encircling their prey, the men slap the water with extremely long poles driving the fish into pre-set nets. The site of the splash of the water towering meters above the standing fishermen in long elegant boats is exquisite. Anyone could get a great photo, even my muddled friend Rosemary. The last fishing method using a cone shaped bamboo woven trap defies logic. This cone trap is wider than the boat and taller than the man but he, standing of course, maneuvers this trap to where he has seen bubbles appearing on the surface of the water, indicating a school of fish. He thrusts the trap into the water and voila, fish to sell. I was there at the end of September and wholesale fish prices were up 30%. I was told later in the afternoon that many of the fisherman are now able to afford to buy Televisions.

At the Southern end of Inlay we visited the Nge Phe Kyaung or the “Cat Monastery” where cats have been trained to jump through hoops happily doing so to the delight of tourists and I would suspect bored novices and monks. For years Some of these cats, there are many, can jump as high as four feet in the air and the hoop is sometimes raised or lowered to help the cat accomplish its “feat”. Although very touristy, the monastery has remarkable nineteenth century wooden carved depictions of the life of Buddha. They are exquisite.

The next stop on the lake was a village where the melodious clatter of the looms can be heard. This is where the famous lotus flower cloth is woven. Surrounding the bridges and houses are masses of lotus flowers and the beautiful lotus plants floating on the water. The lotus plant used to make these fabrics are of the nelumbo nucifera variety. Most of the clothing and scarves made from the lotus fabric is combined with silk and sold in a local co-operative store. The 100% lotus flower cloth is expensive by Myanmar standards. I paid one hundred and fifty dollars for my scarf, but it is treasured addition to my wardrobe as Mr. Loro Piana has discovered it and now plans to introduce scarves and men’s blazers to the market under the registered name , Loro Piana Lotus Flower Fabric. Anyone unfamiliar with the brand Loro Piana is not familiar with the best woven fabrics available in the world. They are used by most of the top-end labels and markets under its own label as well. Loro Piana is a many generational family owned Italian fabric manufacturer of the highest quality. The Loro Piana Lotus Flower Fabric will be hand woven and loomed here in this village. As it takes over 32,000 thousand lotus stems to produce one square meter of fabric, the price Loro Piana is planning on asking for a finished blazer is over four-thousand Euros. My scarf was a bargain.

Inside the small factories women painstakingly remove long sinuous fibers from the stem of a lotus flower after splicing it open along its shaft. They twist the fibers together keeping their hands and the fibers wet at all times or the fibers will begin to disintegrate at this stage. The lotus yarn is then left to dry before spinning. It is then woven into fabric that resembles raw silk but has a handle much like linen. It is exquisite and I am sure it will be sought after by other manufacturers and fabulous women’s designer fashions will be made with it.

People in Myanmar have a tradition of giving robes made from the dyed lotus fabric to celebrated monks. As the lotus is a sacred plant in many parts of Asia, it goes without saying how important a scarf or a robe must be to a Buddhist. Imagine the number of Lotus it would take to make the seemingly endless yardage a monk’s costume requires? I hope wearing my scarf will bring me a bit of sacred luck.

As I returned to the hotel speeding over the lake with the rest of my group, we had reunited by then,; we out-chassed a storm which, sadly of monsoon proportions, must have ruined the afternoon outing on the lake for another group staying at the Inle Princess Hotel from Israel. The afternoon was absolutely sheeting with rain and a perfect time to curl up with a book.

Inlay Lake is an overwhelmingly fascinating destination with outrageously beautiful constantly changing scenes of a remarkable and industrious people living on or around the lake. Whether fishing, weaving, or living their daily lives on the water, the people of Inlay Lake are warm, generous and friendly, quick to wave as you pass bye. The lake offers boundless Kodak moments that even the novice photographer can capture.

If you find yourself planning a trip to Myanmar to see the great pagodas of Pagan or a visit to Mandalay or to see the great golden dome of the towering Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon, don’t make the mistake I made the first time here, see Inlay Lake, you will take the memories of it with you forever.

All photo courtesy of Stephanie Newel.

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