February 22, 2003 Bhamo, Myanmar
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When I came to Bhamo, I didn't plan to witness a disturbing religious ceremony, or become an impromptu English teacher. I just stumbled on to these experiences, and they have already made the long trip up here worthwhile. We got to Bhamo at 10 am, and upon leaving the boat were greeted by a huge parking lot full of pony carts. You know a place isn't touristy yet when the drivers ignore you and you have to actually go up to one and tell him where you want to go. We headed for the Friendship Hotel, supposedly the only place in town that accepts tourists. A check of another guesthouse verified this. Since these guys are charging an exhorbiant $5 a night, more than in Mandalay, something smells rotten in the State of Katchin. Why does tiny Hsipaw have three guesthouses for foreigners, while Bhamo, at probably three times the size, only have one, a monopoly? Do the Chinese owners have friends in high places? Are they really involved in the opium trade like the rumors say?
I walked around town, which is nice and green, with lots of trees, and not too hot. I went into a restaurant, which was slightly confusing when the "hostess" brought out an English menu, then said "no" when I pointed to fried veggies and took the menu away. Unlike other menus this one didn't have corresponding Burmese, so I don't think she understood it. Luckily I was able to use my phrasebook to order a veggie curry, which was OK, but came with delicious soup. And the kids kept bringing me more food. I ate till I was stuffed for 30 cents, then went back to the hotel and shit it all out. I'm hoping the veggie diet will show some benefits soon.
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I bought a huge bar of chocolate in a Chinese store, which was not cheap at $1.30. As I wandered around town I heard some interesting music and saw some people gathered around a Chinese temple (Do you notice a pattern? Bhamo is close to China, and Chinese seem to own all the businesses). I watched from outside for awhile, then figured what the heck, and gestured to some people going in if I could to, and they nodded. I went in and the music stopped, and everybody turned to look at me. I felt rather uncomfortable, but some people smiled, and a woman offered me a chair by the band. Then the music started again, and I noticed the rather disturbing part. The people were gathered around an old lady with an enormous goiter. I've never seen anything like it. It was literally the size of her head. I tried not to look appalled, since no one else did. The people were giving her offerings, and she had money pinned to her ornate robes, a tray of food, and a bag of goodies. She danced around for awhile, then kneeled in a roped off area, and the people gave her more stuff, which she put in her bag. Then the music stopped and the ceremony seemed to be over, so I felt uncomfortable again. A woman offered me a cigarette and said "good night." It was nice of them to let me watch, so I wanted to give them something, so I gave them the huge bar of chocolate.
Then I went for a cold beverage to catch up on my journal. A little girl was there. Normally kids make me nervous, even more so when I can't understand them, but she was possibly the most adorable kid ever. And she wouldn't leave me alone. So I figured I had to entertain her, so I let her draw in my journal. Soon we were drawing animals, fruits, and vehicles, and writing their English names, and I had attracted three more children, and curious adults. The plan had backfired! The kids knew quite a few English words (but not enough for talking), and I now have a page of drawings in my journal. They also let me take their photo, and like looking at it in the LCD. It was kind of fun.