April 8th, 2013
Myanmar is a vast country with a large population. It shares
borders with Bangladesh, India, China, Laos, and Thailand. The northern regions
are a stone throw away from the Himalayas. The Golden Land of Burma is a
sweeping land of transition. Islam and the colorful culture of India crash into
Myanmar’s western borders, and slowly fade into the Theravada Buddhism at the
eastern Thai border. Populous, communist, and dominant China bears down along the
entire northern border, with Chinese influence diminishing as you travel
further south. Myanmar is the buffer to Southeast Asia; it is the zone of
transition.
In my four weeks there I saw an infinitesimal fraction of Myanmar’s
entirety. Due to difficulties in transit and military restrictions, getting to
know contemporary Myanmar is a challenge for anyone over any length of time. I
enjoyed my trip immensely. It was nice to feel like I was really travelling again.
The first thing I noticed about Myanmar was that it was more developed than I
had expected, although I’m comparing it with places like Laos, Bolivia, and
India. There were a handful luxury cars frozen in Yangon’s gridlock: Hummers,
Mercedes, and Porches. The city itself was a bona-fide metropolis of over five
million people. There was Wi-Fi at Yangon’s famous Shwedagon Pagoda. In a
country that has no working ATM’s, I found the country-wide prevalence of
internet surprising (Note: it was rumored that there were ATM’s coming online
very soon).
Before arriving, I had heard that the people were very kind
and sweet to tourists. I had been to Asia before, and had an idea of what these
reports were referring to. Southeast Asia is customarily nice to is tourists.
However, I was still surprised by how generous and kind the Burmese were.
Myanmar is superlative in this sense; they treat foreigners better than any of
the forty-odd countries I have been to. The memories of how people treated me
were are most valuable souvenirs, and the most enjoyed part of my trip. They
responded with such kindness at the mere presence of a foreigner. Watching
fellow human beings behave in such a magnanimous way bolstered my faith in
humanity.
Myanmar is a poor country, yet I’ve never had so many things
purchased on my behalf. Food was regularly offered or shared, a custom I
learned to mimic. On one occasion, a very poor Burmese woman saw me eyeing a
snack and bought it for me instantly. I was, am, and will be forever moved by
her gesture. It has made me a better person. What better gift can one give? Thankfully,
I was able to repay her kindness at a later time, keeping the essence of her
gift and her finances intact.
Only now do I realize how infrequently I was asked for
money, which only happened in Bagan. If you’ve travelled to countries that are
poor and accustomed to tourists, you’d know how exceedingly rare this is. The
people in Myanmar didn’t want anything from me. They were simply happy to have
me around. I owe a heartfelt thank you to the people of Myanmar.
I had gone to Myanmar with a goal in mind: to make a
decision. A month and a half after my arrival, I was scheduled to purchase a
motorcycle to ride across Asia to Portugal. I know far more about travel than I
do about motorcycles. Given the size of the bike, I had my reservations. It was
an incredible undertaking, yet I had no clear idea why I should do it. I felt I
had traveled enough for the sake of travel. Last year I found my path, and
travel wasn’t a part of it. I’ve been around the world a few times. Though I
have yet to set foot in many parts of the world, including all of sub-Saharan
Africa, I deduced that I got the general idea of travel.
Yet, all during my trip in Myanmar I was contemplating the
most extreme trip of my life. I had no burning desire to do it. I was not even
sure that I wanted to do it at all. When I imagined it, I thought about how
much more of the same old routine I’d encounter. I thought, too, about the
risks. Traffic is almost always the most dangerous part of travel. Now, I was
planning on piloting a powerful motorcycle across Asia. Through Indian traffic,
Turkish traffic, across Nepali roads, through Pakistan, across Kazakhstan, and
everything in between. Madness.
There were images of excitement in my thoughts as well.
Daydreams about adventure and difficulties yet to come. But, the aim of my life
is to come out of all that craving; all of that vain grasping. All experienced
things are, in the end, disappointing. I was already seeing the truth of that
in my current travels. I was getting accustomed to “exotic” travel. Was I just
upping my dose of excitement, adventure, and experience to get my fix, I
wondered? It seemed unabashedly selfish.
I wanted my next endeavor in life to give something back to
the world which I have learned to enjoy so much. There have been eternities of despair
in my life, contemplating the apparent meaninglessness of the human condition. My
mind was all that was needed to produce such suffering. Its beyond explanation
here, but suffice it to say: what an innocent fool I was. Having climbed out of
that, by luck and by effort, I enjoyed the finer things in life. I really did
enjoy them for a time. And, I travelled. Luckily I travelled. It was this
process turned all the symbols I was chasing on their heads: wealth, success,
and a well lived life all meant different things in different places. Life
wasn’t meaningless, it was meaning-free. What I was trying to grasp about life
was beyond name and form; no symbol could possibly contain it.
Nietzsche said “He who has a strong enough why can bear
almost any how”
And that was my problem with The Happy Ride. I didn’t have a
very strong why; or one that I could see anyhow. Myanmar was my test run. Could
I travel differently? Could I travel with a purpose? Could I at least write
about it? I was unsure; still am. However, after the epiphany I had on my ride
back from Ming-Ngo, I put the issue to rest.
Somehow, I saw through the decision. Debate was rendered
useless. I began to see how a meaning-free world compels one towards creative
play. Asia was beginning to look like a blank canvas; my travels and
interactions with people were the colors. How splendid. I was smilingly
resigned to my fate. I was going to do it.
I enjoyed every stage of my brief trip in Myanmar. If I
could do it over again, I think I would come in on a 90 day meditation visa,
buy a scooter, learn some Burmese, and drive as far and wide as the military
allowed. It is a terrific country to travel, but to really extract its
treasures it must be seen independently.
And so stood another successful trip; another country
visited. The list may be close to fifty now. Woo. Travel has nothing to do with countries
visited, or even time spent travelling. However, there is a skill to it, and
that does take time to craft. In my opinion, travelling solo is a must. Staying
solo while travelling is a must. You have to get lost in the moment, you have
to become each and every moment. The only time Myanmar made sense to me was
when I wasn’t thinking about what I came there to think about. My trip was
perfect in that way, and the question answered itself from a place other than
reason.
Amazing.