Following his death, his son, Kenneth, sent me 31 rolls of black and white 35mm negatives that Uncle George had taken in China. As an army photographer, he spent much of his free time roaming the country photographing the people, villages, troops and the legendary Flying Tiger airplanes with their snarling mouths. The 31 rolls of negatives, while safely stored, have not been printed. Attempts to give the negatives to the Smithsonian or the Library of Congress have been unsuccessful.
The political troubles in Burma kept me away until 2006. My good friend and traveling buddy, Roger (Jud) Davis, a master at planning interesting, unusual and inexpensive trips to Asia started the planning when he emailed me saying, “how about Burma for our next trip?” A quick “yes” from me started Jud on exploring options for tours on the Internet. Jud and I have taken several trips together – The Czech Republic, Southwestern China, Vietnam and Cambodia. Jud and I enjoy adventure travel – our wives have declined to go for a variety of reasons. They are, however, happy to have us go off and explore the world.
Jud quickly crafted a tour through a Burmese travel company – SunBird Tours. The 11 day tour included travel to four of Burma’s principle cities, Yangon, Bagan, Mandalay and Helo on the Inle Lake. The tour included a private guide in each city along with an air conditioned car and driver, hotels and four flights all wrapped up in a very attractive package for about US$1,000 for each of us.
The plan was for us to join up in Bangkok the day before our flight to Yangon and the start of our Burma tour. Jud, who lives in London, flew east to Bangkok; I went west from Manchester, New Hampshire to Chicago then on to Bangkok with a stop in Tokyo. Needless to say the flight was long and crowded. The full 747 departed Chicago at noon on February 12 and arrived in Bangkok at midnight on February 13. A 2am arrival at the Ramada hotel was just in time for me to collapse into bed following a sleepless 30 hour trip.
The next day was a walking day – exploring the crowded streets of Bangkok. After ten hours of non-stop walking, I returned to the hotel with blisters on the soles of my feet and on the back of my heels – this was brought about by my foolish purchase of new shoes the day before I left the US. A trip to the night market to replace my shoes was successful – a pair of backless “slides” helped my feet through the transition.
Jud and I met up at our Bangkok hotel in time for a dinner together. Jud enjoys his food and takes great pains in planning out our dining venue each evening. He is also a bit more adventuresome then I and eagerly samples the various dishes (of God knows what) from the street markets.
Our flight to Yangon was uneventful – Bangkok Air made the flight quick and safe. On arrival in Yangon International Airport, the lights in the terminal were turned on and the various government officials – customs agents, passport checkers and police looking for reporters or other such people who might report on the politics of Burma took their assigned places. While the flight was full, we were the only two Americans on the flight and ended up waiting while our guide tried to convince the police that we were, in fact, tourists and not reporters. After forty five minutes of haggling, which included a total rewrite of my visa application, we were on our way. We later found out our guide’s offer of some sort of cash “gift” to the lead police officer got us admitted to Burma.
While waiting for our car and driver, a young boy – perhaps 12 approached me speaking English and offering help with our bags. What caught me eye immediately was the white paint-like smears all over his face. Apparently this was some sort of sunscreen that became a common sight for the rest of our trip. The white face and the skirts that all the men wore were the first indication that we were really in a foreign country. Our guide paid the young boy a few pennies to release his grip on my bag and we were on our way.
Our very energetic young guide (I will omit the names of guides) who spoke acceptable English assured us that we were in for a wonderful trip in Burma. Our driver whisked us through the streets of Yangon to our hotel. Our hotel, The Summit, was as comfortable as any mid-priced American hotel. Following check-in we were asked to be in the lobby in an hour to pay the balance of our tour fee to the tour operator.
Traveling to Burma has some interesting extra steps one has to take. The United States has an economic embargo on Burma and does not permit any bank that does business in Burma to do business in America. Needless to say, that eliminates any use of credit cards or travelers checks. All payments were due in cash – and at their request the money was to be new, crisp, clean American dollars with “big heads” – meaning the newly issued currency that was spotlessly clean. Money with any blemish was immediately rejected. A counterfeiter with newly printed money would have a field day in Burma. After a quick survey of our room we met our Tour coordinator, Ms Thingie, in the lobby where we traded our cash for the airline tickets and hotel vouchers.
Having to carry only cash on the trip was initially a little worrisome since everyone presumably knew when they saw a foreigner; that they were probably loaded with cash. Burma proved to be very safe. Since the hotel did not have a license to exchange money we were directed to a small shop in the hotel that sold paintings and exchanged money. Interesting that the higher the bill denomination, the better the exchange rate. Once that was done, we were on our way by cab to the center of Yangon so see what street life was all about. The first thing that hit us was the heat – 95 degrees with humidity to match – and this was winter! The streets were filled with people with both men and women wearing the longie skirts all the way down to the ankle. Along with the skirts, everyone wore flip flops.
Out of necessity, many of the Burmese people who were very eager to make money had set up shop along the sidewalk selling everything from live sparrows to food and clothing. The sparrow sellers stationed themselves near pagodas (in Burma called stupas) to sell the sparrows to worshipers who released them in an effort to gain favor from Buddha for freeing the sparrow. I saw them as potential bird flu incubators.
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