North by Northwest Part III: Burma

Going to Burma was a bit frustrating. I’ve spent three months in Thailand trying my best to understand the culture, learn the language, and feel at home here. I get my passport stamped, take thirty paces, get my passport stamped again, and all that hard work is gone. I’m another tourist here, with nothing to set me apart from every other white guy wandering around. I can’t even say thank you to the security guard. It’s irritating, but I had my host dad with me so that gave me a bit of street cred (I’d like to think). Frustrating, but seeing Burma was absolutely worth it.

Burma is on rough times. It’s dirtier than Thailand, and the main tourist attraction of Taichilek is the copy market, where you can pick up designer clothes, dvds, and wristwatches straight from the sweatshops of Thailand. All “authentic” of course, as the vendors will inform you. It’s a predatorily capitalist place. Within minutes of stepping though the border I had people trying to sell me playing cards, alcohol, cigarettes, and one woman even offered me Viagra (don’t really like what you’re implying there, lady). While depressing, I realize that every great country has been where Burma is today. 150 years ago China was just a funnel for tea and opium, in 20 years I’ll be lucky if I can get a job doing laundry in Beijing. That said, how do you retain a sense of cultural pride when the selling point of your country is “Hey, stuff’s cheaper here!”

The copy market is the main attraction of Taichilek, but my host father and I wanted to explore at least some of the town, so we rented a motorcycle wagon (the modern man’s carriage) for about 6 dollars. I saw a couple of other farangs (whiteys) doing the same, and I think the desire to buy a tour comes a bit out of guilt. We’re they’re mostly for the copy market, to find cheaper versions of what we can buy at home, but we like to tell ourselves that we went to Burma in pursuit of such things as “culture” and “experience”.

I won’t say the motorcycle ride was a waste. Far from it. We saw a gorgeous Burmese Buddhist temple, which was built in the Chinese architecture style, surrounded by impressive mountains. I’ve referred to “Chinese Architecture” a few times without defining it, simply because I’m not knowledgeable enough to do so. So when I say “Chinese Architecture”, just think of the Forbidden City, and that’s the general style of the buildings I saw.

While we were there, my host dad and I watched some child monks singing. It was beautiful, and really pleasant just to sit in back and listen. About a dozen farangs joined us (“groan”), and I heard them speaking Spanish. Frank Meyer, master of languages and schmoozing extraordinaire introduced himself. Or at he least tried to.

“Hola, Pohm Choo Frank-” Wait, that’s Thai. Try again.

“Hola, yo mah-jauck Pratede-” Dammnit, Thai again.

“Sawatdee-” Admit defeat and use English.

So I’m starting to forget my Spanish. There’s pretty much nobody for me to practice with, and absolutely no practical application for it, so that’s to be expected. It’s a good skill to have in the States, so I might try to set up some way to practice, but for now, I’m fine to let it slide.

Cultural quotient for the day satisfied, my host father and I went to the copy market. It was pretty surreal. Seeing designer clothes and expensive watches in these little stalls was a far cry from the Manhattan department stores I usually picture them sitting in. Though both places are just a market, really. Just a difference in glitz.

There’s a traditional market that the Burmese go to, where you can buy groceries and clothes. It’s a lower rung of knock-offs than the copy-market, and it’s here that you can actually buy actually Burmese goods. Tradition has been relegated to the lower class market. Burmese don’t shop in the copy-market. I scored some great deals on dvds at the copy market (I won’t go into details, but they would have cost me a couple hundred dollars in the Sates, and I spent about 60$). The language options vary between English audio with Thai subtitles, English and Thai audio with Thai subtitles, and some of them even have Chinese and French. But no Burmese. The vendors can’t understand the movies they’re selling.

There’s a statue about a block away from the Copy-Market. It’s a monument to King Bayinnaung, who united the Burmese kingdom to cover much of Southeast Asia. He wasn’t of noble blood, but his abilities as a soldier and administrator allowed him to marry into the Royal family, and succeeding as a king. At the time it was completely unprecedented in Burmese history, but so great was the character of this man that he could overcome centuries of inheritance law. The park around this statue is empty; there are bits of trash lying about, and my host dad and I were the only people who came to take a look.