A few more things to see around the lake

Another bright and sunny morning, another opportunity to slather ourselves with sunblock and insect repellent in preparation for an hour or two sitting in the sun.

People were already out on the side of the canal to the hotel, taking the air and enjoying the relative cool of the morning.

I had dressed to match the boat and our driver today!

I found myself taking more photos of much the same things as before – well, how could I resist it when it’s so picturesque?

We were heading to new places today though, past this landmark which we’d not seen before.  It commemorates a tragedy which happened during Hpaung Daw U celebrations a few years ago. During this celebration, an elaborate Royal Barge is brought out of storage and five precious Buddhas are transported from village to village around the lake.  On this particular occasion, a storm blew up and the barge capsized.  All five Buddhas were lost into the water and though four were retrieved fairly soon afterwards, the fifth wasn’t found until some time later, when it appeared in a fisherman’s net covered in seaweed.

We were heading to the place where the Royal Barge is stored, next to the Phaung Daw Oo Paya and already, it was looking pretty busy.

Thankfully, our skilful driver squeezed our boat through the others, dropped us off and went to…who knows?

Sanda took off at quite a speed over the rickety bridges through the village.  She is so light of foot, those boards hardly moved and yet when we galumphed over, we were sure that one or other of them was going to break!

 

Our first stop was the colourful market which was here today.  The market moves around the lakeside villages on a five day cycle and this one was the one Sanda recommended, because it’s where the colourful hill people come.  First stop was to look at the snack stall, which was offering a wide variety of what appeared to be doughnuts of all kinds.

The Pa’O ladies were there, selling a few vegetables and turmeric.

Oh, and tomatoes of course.  So many tomatoes here!

Next stall was selling lacquer, not for making decorative things but for sealing boats.  Far more practical.  Sanda showed us how it’s brown in its natural form – almost like brown sauce – but oxidises black when exposed to the air.

A chemists stall was selling all kinds of medicines – no prescriptions needed.  Half of it looked like the shelves of our local Boots,

The other half was well stocked with Chinese medicines.

This Pa’O woman had left her collection of goods for sale but as soon as she saw Sanda explaining what they were she was quickly back on the scene.  She wasn’t amused – one of the items she was selling was a purple-black powder which we were told was hair shampoo.  Clearly, we weren’t going to buy any but were merely interested, but her expression said it all – if you’re not buying, then get lost!

I love her bag!

In one particularly hot corner of the market a blacksmith was at work.  The fellow in the yellow shirt was operating the bellows as the smith heated a knife blade for a chap who was waiting beside us.  Heat – hammer – heat – hammer – the same as blacksmiths the world over.

Here, there were the same dry goods stalls, selling beans, nuts and so on, all using the milk can unit.

I thought the cross section of the nuts (whose name I can’t recall) was interesting enough to record.  I think these are the same nuts as are quartered and included in the little betel nut leaf package sold at the markets…areca?

This was an interesting product – dried wheat flour, we were told.  Quite why wheat flour couldn’t be sold as, well, flour, was a question we didn’t ask.  Apparently it was for vegetarians, who soaked it, cut it into cubes and deep fried as a snack.

I know.  I have no idea.

And bags.

We were really happy to have visited this market, so different from the others we’d already been to!

Rice cakes – so light and so bulky.

One of our parting shots of the market was of this Pa’O woman chatting with a customer who was casually doing business as she smoked her cheroot.   That pink!  (bag!)

As we walked out of the market we spotted these friendly young Pa’O women who laughed and joked with us.  Not only that, they were happy for me to take their picture!

Leaving the market, we walked past the Golden Royal Barge – the same kind of thing that sunk in the lake.

We didn’t visit it but we did visit the temple where the photograph was, showing the accident as it happened.

We also saw the buddhas which had been lost and found.  Meet me in the next post and I’ll tell you all about it!

and now…

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we were going to cook lunch for Myint and Zaw, the charming couple who were welcoming us into their home.

First of all though, we needed some help from Zaw to get our boat close enough to his jetty for us to get out.  Our driver was doing his best but in a limited space, it wasn’t easy.  Eventually, the use of a long bamboo pole was the answer and Zaw handled it with such ease, it was clear he’d done this kind of manoeuvre all his life.

The people in the villages around Inle grow up messing about in small boats and the youngest children are comfortable on the water and actually take themselves to school by boat each day, Sanda told us.

Myint and her husband Zaw own their home which stands on stilts above the water a short distance from the main lake of Inle.  They’d already prepared a couple of tables in their main living area and welcomed us with a cup of tea and a rice cracker snack.  They didn’t speak any English and we no Burmese, but thankfully, Sanda was on hand.

They’d set the dining table for us too, sprinkled with rose petals and set with freshly laundered napkins too.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kyawthu had set out his mise en place – a range of ingredients we’d bought from the market and a few storecupboard items from Myint’s extensive larder.

Oh my. 

No modern hob or microwave oven here!  Just three small charcoal fired burners in the corner of the cooking area of this wooden house.

Kyawthu began to chop tomatoes.  He chopped a few and then handed over the knife to me, asking me to finish off.  It took me rather longer than him – I don’t usually use a cleaver to do such a task!

The view from the open door was of Myint and Zaw’s outdoor space and their neighbour’s home across the way.

This is where the washing up was done, in water collected from the local artesian well in 25 gallon containers.  Dirty water was simply poured through the bamboo back into the lake below, and slightly dirty water – that which had been used to rinse vegetables or similar – was reused to pre wash or soak dishes.  Great efforts were made to conserve water, we noticed.  Anyway, Zaw was preparing the spring onions.

Sanda and Myint prepared the other herbs, carefully picking through them, whilst the boat driver, whose name we never found out, sat enjoying the conversation and a cup of tea.  Kyawthu supervised all processes!

Kaung and I picked through the garlic, peeling off the skins and discarding any dodgy bits.

Meanwhile, Zaw came in and lit the stove – which prompted Kaung to grab a fan and try to waft the smoke away.

He and my hero had been busy with the pestle and mortar, grinding those garlic cloves and ginger to a smooth paste which met with Kyawthu’s exacting standards.

Kyawthu was preparing the fish for soup and for a fish salad.

He also prepared the chicken, washing it several times in clean water – discarding that water every time, we noted.  He pulled off the skin, kept everything separate from the other ingredients and collected the waste pieces in a bowl.

Before he did anything else, he cleaned everything he’d used with the chicken with detergent, scrubbing the board and rinsing several times.  We felt reassured!

I started off the chicken curry, following Kyawthu’s instructions but found it incredibly hot standing there by an open flame in 35C heat, so Zaw kindly took over whilst I continued with Kyawthu, making a vegetable tempura.

Time to deal with those fish and Kaung was a ready student, taking great interest in his uncle’s method of stuffing and cooking the carp.

Myint brought in a pile of plates she’d prepared with banana leaf coverings and there was just the tomato salad to finish off and a few finishing touches.

The carp were cooked with a coriander, garlic, tomato and peanut stuffing/topping.

The vegetable tempura, made from spring onions and tomato.

A salad of wilted greens, tomato and onion.

Chicken curry with tomatoes and onions.

And a tomato salad with onions and coriander.

Myint produced a bowl of rice which had been cooking in the rice cooker and Kyawthu had prepared a dipping sauce for the tempura.  Time to tuck in.  The good thing was, there was enough for us all to have a good lunch – Myint and Zaw, Kyawthu and Kaung, my hero and I, Sanda and the boat man.  It must have been ok because no-one complained

Feeling very full, we somehow found our way back down into the boat and waved goodbye to Myint, hoping she and Zaw  would enjoy the box of Yorkshire Tea we left with her with our thanks.  Sanda explained to her about the Royal warrant on the box, though whether she even knew who Prince Charles is, I have no idea.  Still, the picture of rolling hillsides, village houses and a game of cricket on the box itself provided a talking point!

With a bit more help from Zaw, we set off back to our hotel.  Oh, and can you see another little basket in the boat there?  Well, it did look so useful with that neat little lid, and can you believe it’s got a small lock on it?  The lady selling them was rather persistent…

It seems a good time to include a picture of the front gates, too.  A floating bamboo pole serves as a marker for the entry to a village and in a smaller format, as a front gate to someone’s home.  To get through it, the boat motor needs to be lifted – after which, the boat can continue straight on through.

We went through the gate and back to the hotel, waving bye to our driver who was already on his mobile phone, having what looked like an intense conversation.

The question is, would we have dinner tonight?  (we did!)

Shopping with the Chef

We had company when we set out this morning.  Not only the oarsman to take us to the point where our driver could start the engine, but also Kyawthu, the chef and his nephew Kaung.

Life on the lake was going on in the same way as it does every day.

The motor boats were speeding across the lake, taking people sightseeing and shopping.

The fishermen with the traditional conical nets were hanging around at the entrance to the Nyaung Shwe canal in the hope of attracting some interest from tourists and collecting a few tips in return for photos.

When we reached Nyaung Shwe there was a deal to be done: 5 of us to be transported to the market, so two trishaws perhaps?  Sanda, myself and Kaung could take one, and the two men the other.  Some hard negotiating went on I suspect, but eventually, we all hopped on board – well, I squeezed into a particularly narrow seat – and off we went.

It was a pleasant way to get there – the town is quiet and there weren’t so many people around.

We passed the temple – just another temple such as can be found all over the place it seems, and people coming back from the market having done their shopping already.

About ten minutes – no more – and we were there.  Kyawthu had a shopping list and Kaung carried the bag ready.

At the entrance were the flower sellers – a sweet smelling start to the expedition, but they didn’t feature on our list so we moved right on.

First thing – tomatoes!  Of course.  Tomatoes seem to feature in every dish here.  Whether that’s because of their ready availability or if they are a genuinely traditional ingredient, we don’t know.  We needed a large bag full and Kyawthu made our first purchase.

Next, we needed some herbs but needless to say, my eyes were elsewhere.  There was a group of Pa’O women with red scarves on their heads, worn to represent their belief of themselves as dragon mothers, Sanda explained.

They’d come to sell tea, tobacco and turmeric and then to buy other necessities with the money they earned. The might have walked for two hours before getting on a boat to cross the lake, since they live up in the hills.

Meanwhile, Kyawthu was buying limes, chillies, mint and garlic.

Just a little garlic…

Oh, and a few spring onions.  Six large bunches in all, tied together with a leaf and costing a total of 40p.

We needed some flour, from the woman sitting under the red awning – sorry about the colour.  That’s brown rice flour, sticky rice flour and plain white rice flour.

It’s measured in the same milk cans we’ve seen elsewhere, put into small plastic bags and tied with a piece of an elastic band – not a whole one!

We stopped to taste some of the snacks this lady was selling too.  Delicious.  Her daughter was so cute as well!

No cheroots needed today, thanks.  So we went a little further to the stall where Kyawthu’s wife was to be found and left the vegetables and herbs with her whilst we went into the wet market.

Chicken.  This was sold in pieces and we needed about three quarters.  Now, bearing in mind all the flies and the lack of refrigeration, we were a little wary here.  But hey, we were with a chef and he knew what’s what.  We held faith.

Now to the fish.  First a short snake head fish (!).  We watched as the seller showed how fresh it was, but rather than take her word for it, Kyawthu looked at the gills for himself, peered at the eyes and looked very closely before deciding to buy.

He did exactly the same at another fish stall, where there were some carp for sale.  This time, he picked them up and asked one or two questions of the woman selling them before agreeing to buy.

She bundled them in a bag – it was a little disconcerting to see that one mouth was sticking out of the top!

Last but not least, some coriander leaves.  Six bunches.  Really.

Did you notice that many of the sellers are wearing the same bags as the farmers were wearing yesterday at the cattle market?  Oh yes…

Seeing some watermelons over the way, he went over and bought one of those, as Kaung and his wife repacked the bags carefully, keeping meat and fish separate from vegetables and herbs.

Shopping complete, the chef and his boy led the way out of the market.  Did I tell you that Kaung supports Chelsea?  The team which narrowly beat Hull City last night or the night before?  I managed a small grin from him when I told him where I was born!

Time for another squeeze!   With the shopping to carry as well, the poor trishaw riders had their work cut out.

I don’t think Sanda even needed to whistle – our driver was there with the boat when we reached the jetty.  Good man!  considerate of him to wear a matching jacket too, don’t you think?

Off we went – not back to the hotel, though.

Oh no, we were going to cook lunch at this family home – with a little guidance, of course

Floating gardens

Leaving Inn Paw Khon we had a good chance to take a closer look at these buildings, which were really quite large and well constructed in spite of being on stilts.  This is such an interesting place!

We were soon back out into the lake, though, and were in a part where there were a few men working in small wooden boats fishing something out of the lake and piling it up on their boat.  Sanda described is as seaweed, which isn’t quite accurate but I think I knew what she meant.  These plants are gathered together to form floating islands which at tethered with a long bamboo pole.

So that’s what we’d seen earlier.

The farmers tend to their crops from the small wooden boats, sailing in between the rows.

All kinds of crops are grown this way, but mostly it’s tomatoes – 70% of the tomatoes eaten in Myanmar are grown in this area and it’s easy to see why, once you’ve got the idea!

The beds are neat and well cared for, some having wider channels of water in between the rows than others.

One area was growing squash, which needed a more elaborate structure to hold the plants up.

But mostly it was line upon line of tomato plants, doing rather well from what we could see.

Having seen the floating gardens, then, there was just one last thing on the programme for today.  Formerly known as the Jumping Cat Monastery – because the monks taught the cats to do tricks – it’s now referred to as Nga Phe Kyaung.

It was fairly quiet today, though there were a few young monks here doing what young monks do – taking photos of themselves by the Buddha.

Cats were most definitely not of the jumping kind.

But the Buddha was grand and had a kind expression.

Having walked around  (clockwise) and peered into a few dusty corners, we felt we could tick that one off.

Time to get back in our boat and head for wherever home was for the next three nights.

As we did, we couldn’t help but take so many photographs of interesting things – if ever I was glad I’d bought my new camera with the fantastic zoom lens, this was it!

Soon, we were approaching the entrance to our hotel.  Since these boats are so noisy, each one has to stop at this gatehouse and take on board someone to row us quietly in.

The young man who delivered us to the door – or should I say, jetty – used the leg rowing technique which is unique to Inle.  It’s a strange yet effective technique and seems really odd!  After the racket of the engine, what bliss to quietly float into the lotus lagoon where the Inle Princess Resort lay waiting for us.

One of those end bungalows was going to be home for the next three nights.

Mostly made of wood with a woven bamboo lining, it was peaceful and yet noisy because it creaked every time we so much as breathed!

We had a warm welcome awaiting us with hibiscus blooms on anything that didn’t move.

An “interesting” bathroom arrangement…

complete with outdoor shower.  I always had to check if something was looking to share it with me before I turned on the tap – and I never was brave enough to shower in the dark!

The grouting wouldn’t be easy to clean…but who would notice?

So, for the next three nights we slept soundly…or otherwise…but snug inside our mosquito net, until the call of the extraordinarily loud birds at dawn.  Oh, and if I tell you the outdoor restaurant offered an insect repellent spray on each table and an anti mozzie incense stick under each table you’ll guess there were quite a few of the little blighters about.

Nevertheless, it’s a grand place to be.

Another boat was waiting

Our drive took us over the hills and far away to Inle.  Though it had been just a 25 minute flight from Mandalay, it would have taken us ten or twelve hours to drive.  Seeing the train over the valley, we asked if that was a viable alternative to such a short flight.  Sanda pulled a face!  Not only is the train network somewhat limited, they travel very slowly too with the express service reaching the dizzy heights of 45mph.

We were glad to have flown.

We drove through rural landscapes where farmers were moving their cattle around and transporting produce around on small carts pulled by cattle or small tractors.

We drove through one or two villages where there were elaborate temples shining in the sunlight.

then out into the flat plain with paddy fields as far as the eye could see.

Busy times in the rice fields, right now with all hands on deck to get new shoots planted.  Back breaking work.

This man was taking the young rice plants from the nursery beds ready for them to transplant into the field.

Meanwhile, two small boys were playing nearby and getting very muddy.  Mind you, the chap using the rotavator hasn’t managed to stay very clean either, has he?

Shortly, we came to the tollbooth.  The Inle area is a protected area rather like a National Park and our driver had to pay a fee for us.

He took us as far as Nyaung Shwe, where we arrived at what looked like a small market, but on closer inspection we realised it was a boat terminus.

It was a busy place with tourists and local people coming and going.  Sanda called to someone and before long a colourful boat arrived at the jetty – our boat and driver for the next three days we learned.

In went the suitcases, the hand baggage and then ourselves.

I can’t tell you how pleasing it was to have not only the most colourful boat in the fleet but a matching tarpaulin, too!

The boats travel pretty fast – they’re powered by a basic lorry engine at the back – and they can be quite splashy too.  They form the major form of transport around Inle and we were to spend quite a lot of time sitting in ours over the next few days.

The first part of the journey was along a short stretch of canal, from Nyaung Shwe to the lake itself.  Local people who don’t use a motorboat get about using these shallow, wooden boats – a much more environmentally friendly alternative to the noisy, diesel engines of the majority.

However, when you don’t have all day to do things, then a motor boat has to be the way and so we powered out into the lake and joined a few others zooming about.

The light here is rather strange.  It’s hazy and the watery colours make for a bland landscape of neutral colours, but it’s dotted with white flares which are formed from the splash of the motorboats moving across it.

In the middle of the lake we came across a structure which looks a bit like an abandoned pier but which is actually a Government lodging, Sanda told us.  Each time we passed it, I though how spooky it looked out there.

To our right was a collection of bamboo poles and small elevated bamboo houses.  We didn’t find out what that was all about until later.

We turned into a small canal a little further on and found ourselves in the midst of Inn Paw Khon village which like so many similar communities has a single speciality.

As we parked the boat at the jetty, we guessed what it was from the sound we could hear from those open windows – the clatter of looms, shuttles and beaters.  Inn Paw Khon is renowned for ikat weaving.

Over a rickety bridge or two then and straight into the warping room, where a woman was walking to and fro with several warp threads in her hand, preparing what must be the most boring process of the lot.

In the next room were a group of ladies, sitting around with the swifts, winding thread and chatting amongst themselves.  Sanda explained that this gentler task was usually given to the older women who perhaps would have difficulty with some of the more intricate tasks.

The boys were doing the tying and resist work, following an exact pattern and with a sample of the finished result hung over their frame.  They worked quietly under the eagle eyes of the elderly ladies opposite – surely that arrangement was no accident?

It was quite a task to tie all those strings accurately and securely and their work was neat and precise – well, it has to be, hasn’t it?

One or two finished frames were there, ready for dyeing.  They were rather decorative as they stood, don’t you think?

There were also some bundles of cotton hanging from the frame though I’m not sure exactly what the intended outcome of these was – most of the work here was done in silk.

Into the next room then, where the looms were working and this lady was tying the orange fringe before going on to weave the green.

 

Bright colours were the norm and though the women working the looms were friendly, they didn’t miss a beat in the rhythm of their work.

For concentration was needed.  Each weaver had up to twenty shuttles with the ikat-dyed thread on them.  Each shuttle was to be used twenty times, maybe, or fifteen depending on the pattern.  So, she had to count, throw, work her feet on the pedals to shift the heddle and of course, beat the weft after each throw of the shuttle.  Maybe you can recall when we were in Laos and I sat alongside a young Lao woman who taught me the basics?  All I can say is that it’s a bit like trying to pat your head and rub your tummy at the same time – oh, and maybe play a Bach sonata whilst you do!

I guess that if you do the same thing day in day out, sooner or later it becomes easier?

But even so, this weaver took the trouble to check each line as she worked, to ensure the colours were going to line up and her work would meet the standard.  No slapdash work here.

This lady was weaving something special – lotus fibre.  We’d never heard of it so Sanda took us off to learn more.

Here the woman had soaked some stems of fresh lotus plants and made a cut about an inch from the end before pulling to reveal strong fibres which seemed to come out fairly easily.  She twisted it by hand and joined it to the previous piece – that small bobbin and the unwound thread in the bowl was the product of her morning’s work.  Slow progress indeed.

The woven cloth felt a little like linen but had a softer handle.

Sanda showed us the article about the jacket Loro Piano had made from the fabric made here.

Later, we looked at the scarves in the shop – prices ranging from $100 for the smallest to $500 for a reasonably sized, wearable one.

Notices in every language explained that this was a fixed price shop – no bartering here.

There was certainly a great deal of temptation – though actually, not so many of the ikat weavings, surprisingly.

Now, there’s one fewer there, as well

As soon as he saw us, our driver leapt to his feet and brought the boat over.  We stepped carefully in and were away.

The afternoon was young and Sanda had something else to show us before we went to our hotel.  I’ll tell you about it in the next post.