Beach Time is the best Time!

End of week 6 Beach Time is the Best time!

Yeah- It is Thursday and I am ready for my first road trip.  I have few expectations so they can only go up.  We load in our huge van (we could pole dance if there were a pole) and head out of town.  On the trip are me, Courtney, Graham (a Canadian who spells his name totally different so will rebel here), Cheyenne, and Jody.  The ages range from 22 to old (me). I am ready to go with the flow and I am learning to do that fairly well. We take off and hit traffic about 15 minutes later. So.. Let’s make the best of it and open the windows and get crunk with the locals.  Graham buys quail eggs, ready to eat, as well as these wonderful flat dried crepes.  We add water to our picnic and call it a day.  As we head out of town something changes- mainly the road.  This is going to be one bumpy road- yet I did not know the half of it.  The irony of the situation was that every hour or so the driver had to pull over and pays a toll (I have no idea where that money goes).  Bumpity, bump, bump turn into bababababababab bump every ten miles or so and I think that was the road improvement. What was amazing was the scenery. Such green, lush landscapes interspersed with pagodas and huts. I see women chopping firewood, small shops with dry goods, huts with petro for motor bikes- and beer stations- always beer stations.   So many people living off of the land-working on the day’s chores whether it is harvesting rice, fishing in the stream or transporting goods from one place to another.  People live all along route. People with no modern conveniences; happy people. The bumpy road turn curvy- imagine bumpy, curvy roads in a big ‘ol van and you can imagine where our stomachs are.

We are pulling into town after about six hours and I cannot imagine where our “resort” is in this array.  What I have learned is that people use the term resort quite loosely here.  We walk down the path to our suite, open the door and are hit immediately with the strong aroma of mothballs.  I start to freak a little, but remember my new motto “Roll with it” and “Namaste” and begin to unpack.  Upon further inspection, I find the little culprits of the obnoxious smell in all corners of the room and under the bed. They are quickly removed. We hit the beach for a moonlight stroll and find we have three young men following us with flash lights- our guides. We plan the next day and retire for the evening. 

Friday begins with a tour of the one lane road they call the city center. We are here during the off-season so the hustle and bustle of the high season has not yet begun.  One local entrepreneur finds us and offers his serves.  The next day he will take us via Vespa taxi (and four other drivers) to the elephant farm and for a snorkeling adventure- yeah- my favorite things- animals and underwater colors. After lunch we go to the beach.  Well, the last beach I went to was Destin, Florida and was the guest at a million dollar condo with full-on beach service- chairs, umbrellas and cabana boys (not really cabana boys but it makes the story better).  The beach is beautiful and the waves great, but no shade, no chairs, umbrellas or cabana boys.  Jody is fair skinned so the “resort” employees rig up some material attached to four bamboo poles. Picture to follow.  I also notice we have a lifeguard; one young man silently sitting on the beach with an orange rescue circle at his disposal. I am so comforted. Beach fun is over and time for a message. The Vespa taxis arrive and as I walk out I can see the despair on their faces. Who will be the lucky one to transport me on their bike?  I laugh with them and tip big so in the end all is well. It is scary at first, but the freedom and the wonderful breeze makes the terror lessen and soon I am in my element. We go to a real resort for the message (I pass since there are only three workers and spend and hour just chatting with Graham.  I am learning more and more about my fellow teachers- each with his/her own story to tell.

Upon arriving back in our village, we walk to find a restaurant and return to a place we had seen in the morning and where we had promised a young man we would return. The food was fabulous and the service was beyond expectations.  This is in a land where tipping is not expected. At one point I am fanning myself and my waiter, Ny Lin, starts to take my fan so he could do it for me- obviously, I said no there will be none of that.  I do not think I could ever get use to that kind if service. The best part was the music.  A beautiful 21 year old playing his guitar singing American songs with a voice one would expect to see on The Voice or Americas Got Talent. Since we soon became the only ones in the restaurant, the song request flow.  And then it happened—yes- he asked me to join him on stage for what they think is a current rendition of Hotel California by the Eagles.  Highlight for me (I have no idea if anyone else liked it but my inner diva was on fire). Have I told you they are about 30 years behind on trends?  This includes music.  Remember, not too long ago Internet, news etc. was filtered and the general population was shut off from outside influence.   The waiters are now planning a bonfire for us for tomorrow night.  They want to sing with me some more and play the guitar.  I am having so much fun!!!

Saturday arrives and our free breakfast of one sunny-side up egg (which really needed to cook more so we sent it back taking five minutes to nonverbally say "over-easy), instant coffee, three pieces of toast and a banana hits the spot so to say.  We meet our drivers- thankfully, mine greets me with a smile-rather than a "Oh crap- her again!" and take we off to the elephants.  Once again- I have never seen such beauty (well- I probably have- America has beautiful landscapes- but I have not been on a road trip through those beautiful places since the Ozarks).  I loved the visual surprises of the greenery and then a lone flower pops out into my peripheral (God I love spell check) vision.  And the trees- oh my!  Such arrays of trees are here.  Some have layers where there is tree limb, branches and the larger tree limbs like the symmetry of an upside down Christmas tree.  Others, are all bark and then a plop of green on top. Villages are all along the route.  Small bridges made with one lone bamboo pole traverse over a water area and big, white cows (you know the ones with the humps) scatter about. My eyes are taking snapshots when my camera fails me.

Upon arriving at the camp, we cross one of those suspension bridges like one would see in an old time movie. Scary for me- fun for the young’uns. We watch an elephant get bathed and then they strap them up for us to ride.  I become an observer at this point and number one camera-man. For some reason it sounded more fun in theory.  I would rather chat with the locals and learn more about the farm and how the system works than try to climb with grace upon the beast.  They are actually working elephants that clear the land and move large trees.  They seem well taken care of so I am happy. 

About an hour after we are “home” we meet on the beach to await our boat. We wait, and wait and finally see a boat- but what we see  could not be ours I am thinking power boat with a 350 horse power engine- wrong again!).  It is straight out of a scene from Pirates of the Caribbean.  Soon we are told a little boat will come to pick us up (once again- I am thinking a little rubber boat with a small horse powered engine- wrong again- when will I get it?).  At this point I am laughing so hard I throw caution to the wind and say, “What the hell- why not?”  Well, watching the little boat trying to jump the waves was like reading The Little Engine That Could to a small child.  Yet all the wishing in the world was not going to help that little canoe-like wooden boat come ashore.  It capsized. So we figured it was off, but nooooo they would not be deterred. They will pan the water out. So they did and two in our party were crazy enough to get in the thing and try to go back out (no- not me). They capsized and one swam ashore; one swam to the ship. You guess it, Graham- the crazy Canadian. So, plan B.  We vespa to another beach where they waves are mild and an hour later the ship arrives. The wooden boat comes to pick us up and all the while I am thinking, “Tricia, how in the hell are you going to get in that big boat?”  Yes, I am worried.  I am the last to arrive so thank goodness, all in our party are at the front to the boat and do not see my entrance on to the ship. I do not even know if I can describe it but I will try.  No, there is no ladder. So I stand in the small boat, wobble, wobble some more- some young man grabs my butt, the skipper (a shirtless old man) grabs my arm and starts to make a heave hoe sound as he pulls.  I quickly say, “Oh, no- I do not want your help if you are going to grunt.” So I clear my stomach and roll on of my own volition (I think he got a boob shot but hope that was all). We are “All aboard” and heading out to the island.

What seems to be two hours in a ship that should be cruising but rather is more like-“putt, putt, putting” and we arrive.  It does not look like a reef area so I am now skeptical about the quality of snorkeling that will be forthcoming.  I have been thinking for the last hour how the hell I am going to get back on the boat/ship if I dive in. So.. I tell Graham to tell me if it is worth the humiliation I will go through to get back on before I take the plunge.  You probably guessed correctly, the Monsoon season is not a good season for snorkeling. So we get the idea to fish.  After all, this is a fishing boat and I have been sitting on a cooler of fish for two hours.  Their fishing “pole” is a spool with two hooks, two weights and some fishing line. No fishing for me.

We head back, see a gorgeous sunset (no cameras dang it) and arrive to find our little docking boat has gone ashore.  They want to retrieve it and taxi us back.  I..Have.. to.. get.. off… this.. boat… so I jump in and swim ashore.  And that, my fine friends, was a Myanmar version of a snorkeling excursion.  In route I have an epiphany----more in my endnotes.

Dinner at our favorite location with our wonderful hosts and a beautiful singer and we are asked if we are still up for a bonfire.  I say yes, what time do you close.  My new friend says, as soon as you guys leave. On- yea- we are the only ones there.  So we head down to the beach were they have already set up wood and start the fire (with gas of course – (visions of Dylan running after catching on fire from a gas fire comes streaming into my head and I notice the gas can right next to the blaze- emergency avoided).  Of course it starts to rain. We think it’s over but no…..  We just move it up a ways to a fishing hut (excuse us two people sleeping and your dog, but we are here to party) Yes; someone lived there- a relative of one of the boys.  The night ends with us at on the lawn of our resort sharing music on my IPod (and letting the musician listen to it with my Bose headphones), stories and with everyone calling me mama.  I guess that is a compliment.  I can’t wait to take my own boys there so they can meet my new friends. 

Instead of my usual ending, I will share my epiphany.  Had I had it my way, this weekend would have been at a nice resort lounging by the beach in the morning and then finishing off the day at the pool.  There would have been a swim up bar and a nice restaurant.  Boy, am I glad I did not have it my way.  If a person only takes in what the place has to offer in terms of tourists’ destinations (and there were plenty of what we see as resorts in this community)  I never would have seen what a local sees.  I would never had practiced English with my 17 year old waiter who now refers to me affectionately as mama (no worries- he has a real mom and I will not be bringing him home) and who has emailed me a sweet goodbye email.  I never would have learned that our snorkeling guide is supporting his parents (his dad was in the military and now gets the equivalent of $3.50 a month from the government) with his Vespa taxi service.  I never would have heard the lovely Myanmar songs at the campfire and I would not have experienced the local color.  I would have not learned that you do not need a pole to catch a fish and that although everyone tells me I can’t have a vespa- that I still want one. There is a time and a place for a comfortable resort (like April in Bornio!), but for now I am so glad I invested in the local economy and did not put more money in the hands of the 5% in Myanmar who do not need my money. 

That’s all for now- I will finish the week later. That will be being sick and my first gifts!!!