Accommodation in Myanmar: Cheaper than Thailand

Money in Myanmar: Not a Big Deal!

A lot of bloggers have written about the money condition in Myanmar. Horror stories about keeping thousands of pristine USD on them at all times. Well, let me tell you something: don't worry! There are ATMs. Everywhere. I counted six in Bagan alone.

In fact, there was no need at all to exchange any of my pristine USD at all! I tried three ATMs and each dispensed notes with a 3,000 kyat ($3) fee. Not so bad. 

The money situation in Myanmar is now like Thailand.

Crossing into Myanmar: Mywadi to Hpa An

Yes, it is now possible to travel from Thailand all the way into Myanmar. Crossing into Mywadi, Myanmar was very easy - and everyone on the boarder was quite friendly. 

Stepping out of the immigration booth, I started walking down the street. Suddenly, a man approached me telling me he could take me to Hpa An for 10,000 kyat ($10). Hpa An is quiet far and the buses cost double this amount, so I didn't believe him. Nevertheless, I figured it'd be okay as long as I didn't pay him until I arrived. It was shady, but Myanmar is a shady place.

After a bit of waiting he drove me to a copy-shop to make six copies of my passport for the checkpoints. I was relieved to hear this, meaning he did intend to take me to Hpa An and police would see me with him. 

An interesting thing to note about Myanmar is the driving situation. The roads are oriented like they are in the Inited States, however, the cars are British-style. This means passengers are always closest to traffic, not drivers.

The road to Hpa An is extremely treacherous and the drivers drive very fast. I have driven on some of the most dangerous roads on Earth, and few compare to the insanity of the Burmese drivers on this particular route. Furthermore, traffic only goes one way on even days, and the opposite way on odd days. The rule, however, doesn't seem to apply to motorcycles. This makes it absolutely crucial to plan your crossing correctly so as to avoid staying a night in seedy Mywadi.

Once you're through the mountains, the road opens into beautiful plains and Hpa An comes into sight! Read about Hpa An here.

Getting a Myanmar Visa in Bangkok

So, do you want to go to Myanmar via Thailand? First you need to get your visa squared away in Bangkok. I went to the embassy with three passport photos. Now, you must initially go between 8:00am-12:00pm to apply for the visa (I made the mistake at arriving at 12:15 the previous day). I filled out the application, which has more or less the standard questions that Asian countries ask (i.e. parents professions, father's name, etc.) and waited in 'line' for about fourty minutes. By line, I really mean pushed and shoved until I got to the window. Some more clueless souls, reluctant to get in on the pushing and shoving, didn't seem to move much the entire time I was there! Be aggressive, it pays off. But I digress.

Once you're at the front of the line you are given a card with a number on it and told to wait in another line. I waited in this line for two hours. Finally, when it was my turn I was asked if I wanted a same-day or two-day processing time for my visa. I asked for the same day, and although the official regulations that are posted require having proof of a plane ticket for this particular visa, smiling and flirting with the old heavyset Burmese woman behind the counter when she asked for the ticket worked wonders for me. Other travelers without the plane ticket who weren't so keen on this tactic and found themselves rejected for the one day visa because of 'time issues'. Smile and don't loose face; it'll get you far in Southeast Asia!

Now, you give them your passport and return at 5:30pm the same day to pick it up. I liked my motorcycle driver, so while waiting I agreed to go to a bunch of shops so he could rack up commission money. I don't recommend you do this unless you know what you're in for and have time to kill. He agreed not to charge me for the long trip to the Burmese embassy in exchange for going to six shops. I didn't have much else on the docket, so I agreed and we went to the dozen or so commission-giving shops scattered around Bangkok. Not a traditional way of seeing the city, but it was fun and although my trusty driver didn't speak English, he did show me the sights. Plus, a number of the silk shops give you free beer, so why not? 

After riding all around Bangkok, we returned to the embassy. It was easy and fast getting my passport. Afterwords, my driver took me to his house, introduced me to his family, and his wife fed me an amazing dinner. 

Traveling into Myanmar by Land: Crossing at Mae Sot

Everything about going to Myanmar has been a mystery. From getting the visa in Bangkok - itself a very strange process - to talking to people about what to expect, there has been little consistency. More often there have been full on contradictions. I'm trying to set the record straight here.

 So, I decided to cross at Mae Sot. I took a bus from Chiang Mai to Mae Sot. Mae Sot is a small town in the north west of Thailand. I'm using it to cross into Burma because the other crossings (Mai Sai up north, Rangon in the south) prohibit onward travel into the country. 

After arriving in this town of 32,000 from the tourist burrows of Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai, something about the town becomes immediately clear: this is not the typical tourist-track way of entering Burma. Nor is Mae Sot a typical tourist town. 

Not even the best writer could describe Mae Sot. It has an energy that nowhere else in the world has - an aurora of helplessness, but not despair. It also has a sense of peaceful understanding - there are Hmongs, Indians, Burmese, Chinese, and NGO workers scattered in pockets around the place. English, Chinese, Hindi, and Burmese are each spoken far more than Thai. The Bhat is accepted, but the Yuan, Ruppee, and Kyat are also widely circulated. There are Muslim women wrapped in headscarves or even wearing burkas living next to open-air Burmese brothels. But unlike Pattaya or Phuket, the sex for sale here is for domestic consumption. HIV has a clear presence here, and women with pencil-thin legs and narrow faces line the street wearing miniskirts each night. According to an NGO worker I met at my guesthouse, a full sixty percent if the Burmese women involved in trafficking are infected. She guessed 7-8% of Mae Sot had the disease.

Something everyone whose been here can agree on is that Mae Sot is mysterious. Because it's a trade town, markets are all around, and everything - including people - has a price. The first hotel I walked into offered me a woman ($2-4). When I declined, I was offered a man ($1). After leaving this hotel, the second hotel offered me the same, plus a virgin ($400). Their final offer? Three woman, all night ($11). The third hotel offered me a child ($6). Finally, after three tries, I was able to find a decent guesthouse which seemed to cater to expatriates.

After staying here only a day, I've learned a lot about Mae Sot. There was a few illuminating stories about gem smuggling. A women told me she had smuggled ivory inside some of her more sacred body cavities. I met a man who stepped on a landmine, lost his leg, and was subsequently fined by the Burmese army for “destroying” government property. I also heard about the cost of hiring a hitman to kill a Burnese refugee ($25). 

I went down to the river that demarcated the Thai-Burma boarder and watched thousands of Burmese cross the river on intertubes. The illigal boarder crossing is tolerated by both countries because it helps their economies. But there's a curious situation that develops here as well.

You see, the railing above the shore is where the river 'officially' starts. But below this railing is a very small stretch of swampy shoreline jetting out perhaps twenty feet at it's widest. Because it's officially river, this area is a no man's land which falls outside the control of both country's authorities. But Burmese marketers setup shop on the river side of the railing, meaning that they are putting their illegal goods outside of Thailand, literally by a few centimetres. But they're also outside of Myanmar. 

If you're brave you can step beyond the railing into in these markets. Here you can find the open sale of anything illigal. Bags of opium and bricks of herion are marketed - in the open - like they are rice or spice. Guns? Check. Granades? Check. Fake money? Check. Passports? Check. I had no idea that places like this still existed outside of Khyber, Peshwar, and Mogidishu.

But Mae Sot is a fascinating for the intrepid traveler for other reasons, too. When I arrived here, nobody seemed to know much about traveling into inland Myanmar once across the boarder. Because highways are only one lane, buses in Myanmar run on a complex system: one day they run in one direction, the next they go the opposite direction. My guesthouse had an extremely large whiteboard dedicated to figuring out which days what buses went where. Even so, they were going on predications and rumors, not official schedules. My intuition is there is a method to the madness, so when I figure it out I'll report back.

Exchanging currency is also shrouded in secrecy, as was how to summon a bus on the boarder. I had to go to one of the many black markets in Mai Sot to buy Myanmar Kyat (pronounced Chaat). My guesthouse operator, a migrant Karen from a teeny Burmese village, gave me the following instructions: "Take the first right on the street. There is a large market. Find the stall selling fish. Theb there is some red clothes. Go into that stall with the clothes. They will exchange your money there." 

I followed his advice; but if you've ever been to a Burmese market you know there are tons of places selling fish. So, I had someone translate into Thai and Burmese that I was looking to buy Kyat. Then I topknot to the sha first guy I could find. 

"Come" he said, leading me into a room. He pulled some clothes hanging up for sale around us as to shroud our activity. 

"How much baht you have?"

"6,000"

"I give you 179,500 kyat."

Kyat comes in relatively small denominations (5,000, 1,000, 500, 200, 100) while baht does not. So reciving 170,000 kyat was a chaotic experience that took about a half-hour counting and recounting to make sure there wasn't any fast hands (there wasn't). I ended up exchanging my six 1,000 baht bills with around 150 or so kyat bills.

Exchanging money this way felt extremely shady, but that's because everything involving Myanmar is shady. By the way, my guesthouse operator's English was exceptional and the service and advice given at Bai Fern Guesthouse can't be more highly recommended. Rooms are clean & cheap ($5), too.

This, I think, is not a town for the inexperienced traveler.  

The general cluelessness of the locals that surrounds the country less than one mile away - a country many of these people are from and return to regularly - is very strange. I've never been anywhere like Mae Sot before, but if it's any indication of what to expect in Myanmar, this will be a very interesting trip.

Muay Thai in Chiang Mai

Seeing an authentic Muay Thai fight is usually on the bucket list of everyone who comes to Thailand. Seeing one in Bangkok is expensive and, if you're the betting type, you might lose a finger if things go south.  

Bangkok Blues

Bangkok had been called the Sin City of Asia. It's also been named a food lover's paradise and an exceptional place to visit. Likewise, a lot of bloggers have commented on how amazing Bangkok is. They rave about the food, the people, the adventure. Recently, the Hangover II immortalized the city's notoriety with the catchphrase "Bangkok has him now". However, I've come to a different conclusion about Bangkok in the eight nights I spent there. 

I think it's an absolutely boring city - especially for Asia. That's right, I said it: Bangkok is boring. 

I arrived from Ao Nang and found a hotel room smack dab in the middle of Khao San Road for 120 baht a night ($4). Khao San Road, as I had mentioned, is like a giant overdeveloped 24/7 frat party. Its got its charms, but they wear out quickly. 

Sukhumvit - another 'entertainment' district - is similar to Khao San Road, except with prostitutes. Here you can see amazingly overweight 70-year old American, British, and Australian men with remorseless arms slung around their 16-year old Thai 'girlfriends'. Sitting at a bar, the 65-year old retired podiatrist from Oregon started a conversation with me. He was sitting with a young Thai girl who was maybe eighteen years old. He claimed she was the love of his life. "See," he told me, "she doesn't deny it!" I looked at him puzzled. She didn't deny his claim simply because she didn't know English. 

In the middle of our conversation, he inched his hands into her pants and started indiscriminately pressing against her butt. He did this causally in the middle of a bar while telling me about how many other Thai women he'd slept with. I almost became sick.

Since he retired to Bangkok five years ago, he said he'd slept with at least one new bar-girl every night. So, he put the number at around 4,000 different women. 

After about ten minutes, it became apparent that my unease and criticisms weren't direct enough, so I tried a new approach. I asked him if he had any children. Quickly, he pulled his hands out of the young girl's pants and used it to pull out a wallet. He showed me pictures of his two sons and his daughter. She just turned 28. 

I'm positive the old man didn't comprehend the irony behind my question, because after answering his hand went straight back into the young girl's pants. She looked embarrassed and annoyed but didn't resist. How that old man wasn't embarrassed I'll never know. It was clear, though, that even she understood the irony behind what I had asked the old man. Her eyes gave away her own discomfort with what I'd just done. She was thinking "His daughters are my age and they'll never have to do what I do..." After realizing I was only embarrassing her, I left. It's a really horrible world we live in sometimes.

These are two tourist spots, but not all of Bangkok is a red-light district, right? Well, I don't find the rest of Bangkok to be much better. It's very ugly, dirty and haphazardly developed. It feels more or less a big mud puddle with a few statues made of gold near the middle. And although Thai culture is fascinating, Bangkok also feels lacking in it's diversity. It has a certain homogeneity to it that Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, and even Ho Chi Minh don't have. After a few days, there isn't any reason to go to a particular district when it's no different than the one you're in.

When I asked expats what they do in Bangkok for fun, they told me there was some great bars and places to eat in some of the Western hotels. But, lamenting on their words, I asked if they thought it was a little grotesque to recommend activities in hotels for boredom in a city the size of Bangkok. They shrugged.  

What was I doing in Bangkok for eight days? Waiting for my Vietnam and Myanmar visas. So, as soon as I recieved this things, I headed up to Chiang Mai via Ayatthaya.

Dinner with a Stranger: Ao Nang

The two oldest professions on Earth are prostitution and philosophy. Generally, I'm not one to interact with either profession. Academic philosophers are rare as it is and don't tend to be good backpackers. So, they are easy enough to avoid here in Thailand. But prostitutes are not. 

I find prostitution repugnant and avoid it as much as I can. But in Thailand, it's a big business and, although my philosophical training urges me to condemn it outright, there's something funny about the way it's done in Thailand that really must be seen to adequately judge. Anyway, to avoid turning this into a relativist exodus, I'll tell you a story:

"I'm an a ga-teu-i," she said with a matter-of-fact snazz "and it's a difficult life"

Ing looked at me from across the rusty old table. We were sitting in Ao Nang's intersection with Krabi Town - a desolate strip of food stalls and trinket sellers. Barking orders in Thai at the waiter, she ordered us something spicy. 

"So, what's it like being a Lady Boy in Thailand?" I asked hesitantly.

"Well," she said in unusually good English, "it is very bad for us here. I'm a ga-teu-i. That means I still have a dick. But a nice way, respectful way, of saying it is poo-ying-kahm-pet."

Chocking on my water due to her unexpected frankness, I tried to come ask her why so many Lady Boys lived in Thailand.

"Oh honey," she said, "there aren't that many of us. We just all live around tourist areas because that's the only place we can! Nobody else will hire a Lady Boy in Thailand."

Ing makes her living by soliciting faraengs - white guys - on the streets. She is tall and feminine. But her voice made it obvious she was a man. She had tried to solicited me earlier in the day, but I had politely declined. 

But the fascination lingered. Ao Nang in the off-season lacks nice weather. Consequently, there isn't much to do. So, when I wandered around the stores later that night, I saw Ing again. Being a Gender Studies major in college, I agreed to take her out to dinner in exchange for an interview.

"How did this all start?" I asked her.

She explained that she knew very young she wasn't fit to be a man - she felt like a girl. She was a girl. So, she waited until after her father died to make the transition to avoid shaming him. She then went college as an engineer but dropped out because she faced oppression and ridicule from her classmates. Her family wasn't supportive, so she went to the streets.

Ing told me that she had a long-time boyfriend. However, he also lived on the streets and was a chronic drug-user. He infected her with HIV.

After she found out, she disowned him. 

"So, you continue to work the streets knowing you have HIV?" I said, astonished. 

"Yeah, but no sex. I only blow men. That way they never find out I am a woman" 

Of course, that wasn't reassuring.

"How many Lady Boys do you think have HIV?" I asked

"Half - or more"

The waiter - clearly annoyed by Ing's presence - arrived at our table with two big bowls filled with yellow noodles. He called it Khao Sai Gui. It was spicy, sour, and greasy. Perfect.

"See, even he doesn't like me. Sure, I'm a prostitute, but it doesn't mean I don't want love," noodles draping her mouth. "We all need love"

Ing's presence was clearly unwelcome by other tourists and staff, so I paid the sixty baht ($2) bill and she offered to take me to the 'lady-boy' hangout. 

Why not?

We wondered down Ao Nang's dimly lit alleyways.

"How long have you been doing this?" I asked her. She told me she'd been a prostitute almost five years. to a bar filled with her friends - mostly Lady Boys, but some very clearly were women. They were all prostitutes who finished working. This was where they hung-out when not soliciting clients. Surprisingly, the bar was far more relaxed than the streets of Ao Nang; nobody here was interested in hustling me. 

Quickly, I found these girls weren't the girls we imagine when we endure the constant badgering going on around Soi 1 in lower Sukhumvit. Each had a fascinating story. Phra was amazing at karaoke, Than was a  jokester, and Mee was a badass checkers player. Of course, I knew this before, but it's oh-so-easy to dehumanize the touts and scams. Ing told me that these were her sisters.

Surprisingly, all of the Lady Boys spoke English at a level far above that at which the average Thai can speak it. And almost all of them had at least some post-secondary education. Some lamented their work in the sex industry while others embraced it. A few were only dancers, but the vast majority of them were prostitutes.

Contrastingly, the girls who were not Lady Boys generally ended up as prostitutes out of a different kind of desperation - the lack of education and money drives them to the seedy industry. They spoke little English and, unlike the Lady Boys, were unwilling to engage a lot with me. It became clear that although the Lady Boys had welcomed me to this local hole-in-the-wall place, I was invading these other girls' space. 

Overall, I left the bar pretty confused about how I feel. Unlike so many travel stories, there isn't a satisfying ending. 

Maybe, though, it'll suffice to say we do all need love.

Backpacker Ghettos: Paharganj, Thamel, and Khao San Road

Backpacking has a very particular culture that draws inspiration from the tried-and-true methods of our hippie forefathers. Within the backpacking microcosm, there are certain areas of certain cities that are, in a very literal way, the Meccas of our culture. It's where ideas and stories are spread. Legends are born - and sometimes die - in these places. These are the backpacking Capitals - or, as many know them, backpacking ghettos. There's low price hotels, restaurants, and always bars. After only a minute of thinking, I came up with these just in South and Southeast Asia: Colaba in Mumbai, Old Town Leh in Ladakh, McLeod Ganj in Dharmsala, Old Town in Chiang Mai, Lakeside in Pokhara, and Viet Vang in Laos. 

Of course, Vietnam and Cambodia have there fair share, too. But in Asia there are three major ghettos every backpacker worth their salt has done time in. Love them or hate them, they're undisputed kings of our world; the New York, London, and Paris of the Asian backpacking culture. You've got Thamel (Freak Street) in Kathmandu, Parahganj in New Delhi, and Khao San Road in Thailand. There are others all over Asia, but these are the hubs.

Of the three, Khao San Road in Bangkok is by far the biggest population wise. It's also the most developed. There's even a a few Burger Kings, a McDonalds, some Starbucks, and a KFC. Although its original gritty charm has long given way to Western corporations, you can still find rooms here for 100 baht ($3) and good PadThai for 30 baht ($1). And every night there are thousands - tens of thousands - of young and often inexperienced backpackers that descend on this small prostitute-lined street to party until the wee-hours of the morning. It's like a giant frat-party all the time.

If you thought Bangkok was wild, you need to see its rambunctious brother Paharganj in Delhi. This place serves as as preparation for the absurdities of Varanasi and Mumbai. But there's a caveat; for all the luxury Khao San Road offers to the uninitiated backpacker, Parahganj in Delhi does him no favors. Where Kho San Road is a crowded road, it's also a very short road, so it stays clean. Paharganj, though, is a long and unpaved street near central Delhi's train station. It lacks the bars, parties, and the fraternity-like camaraderie found on Khao San Road. Instead, it offers a deeply Indian experience - it gives the in-your-face India to you. Now, a lot of people say Paharganj is nothing like India, but I beg the differ. It's bold, scammy, and absurd. But it's also remarkably calm in a weird sort of way. Paharganj also served as an initiation for the newbie backpacker fresh off the Southeast Asia trail. In that sense it's honest, and in some very real sense remote. It's not Western at all, and if you can't etch it here, backpacking the rest of the subcontinent will probably be fairly painful. 

Of the three big ghettos, Thamel in Kathmandu is my least favorite. I might be biased against it because I've lived extended amounts of time in this area before. Plus there was a revolution going on when I lived there. But I find Thamel to be a softer version of Parahganj. There's still the hustle-bustle all around, but it's been toned down a bit. You'll still be approached by strangers for hashish - or opium - but unlike Delhi the touts aren't so persistent. Most of the people in Thamel are trekkers, so the place is lined with shops selling trinkets from the hills, trekking gear, and oxygen tanks for climbers. It's also pretty dirty - worse, dare I say, than Pajarganj. But, Thamel to me seems far more crime ridden than either of it's peers. Khao San Road and Parahganj both allow for some nightlife and safety at night. Generally, if you're quiet and keep to yourself there is sufficient help 24/7. And the people on these streets, while poor, aren't typically desperate. Thamel, in stark contrast to the other two, shuts down at around eleven. The streets are empty. Criminals are rampant. In Thamel I've been robbed twice while sleeping. My girlfriend and I had also been gassed with a clothe and robbed while in our hotel. The hotel managers were honest and helpful - the police were not. Although we didn't loose any money, a Chinese passport was stolen (hers) and it made for a huge headache returning to Tibet without it. 

But this isn't to say that Thamel isn't a fascinating place. It is! The Tibetan food here is wonderful, perhaps the best outside of Leh or Lhasa, and it's a great place to start exploring Bhaktapur and Kathmandu. It's a short walk to Ratna bus park where a bus virtually anywhere in the valley - Pashpatinath and Boudha included - will cost you only $0.25 to $0.60. I'd also recommend buying down here as it's generally fairly high-quality and very very cheap.

Regardless, these three places are truely fascinating places to stay in. If you're backpacking, spend at least a night in one! It's worth it.

Thailand's Coup for the Backpacker: What You Need to Know

About two weeks ago, Thailand's military announced it had taken control of the government. 

Then, the United States gave this warning:

"At this time non-essential travel to Thailand is extremely not recommended by the Embassy of the United of America"

Nightlife in Langkawi

 Wafts of sweet-smelling hookah smoke rise against the myriad of colors that flood the dimming sky. Laughter echoes across the starlit beach. There are couples sitting around bonfires, feet buried in the pearlescent sand. We're in Langkawi now.

Towards Open Water! Getting to Langkawi by Boat

Langkawi is a tropical paradise located on the Thai-Malaysia boarder. It's an island known for pristine coral reefs, flawless white beaches, and untouched jungle. It's also known for its crocodiles and for not being particularly developed. 

Monkey Buisness: Jungle Trekking to a Monkey-Infested Beach

I had met a Japanese man and an Italian woman in my hostel. They had expressed an interest in going to a place called 'Monkey Beach'. And I asked to come along. From the name alone, this beach sounds like the setting of a movie. Plus, adding to the mystique was the fact that rumor indicated that the beach was actually not just named monkey beach, but was under the strict governance of monkeys. 

A Note on Durian

In Southeast Asia there is no middle ground. You either hate or love the large, spiked, ball-like fruits.

The flesh of the durian has a very distinctive odor - and nobody can agree on whether it's good or bad. Some people seem to regard the durian as having a pleasant fruity fragrance akin to pineapple. Others, however, find the durian's aroma revolting and describe it's smell closer to that of rotten garbage.

Penang's Night Markets

After two days of relaxing in the cool highlands, it's back on the road and to the humidity. I jumped on an early bus to Georgetown, Penang for 30rm ($9.25). Georgetown is a UNESCO World Heritage City because of it's delicious food, so I planned to make this my longest stop in Malaysia. It's also conveniently located about three hours away from the Thai boarder.   However, given the recent military coup and exodus of Thai intellectuals to places like Cambodia and Laos, I might spend longer than expected in Malaysia waiting and watching what happens. If anyone has any thoughts, please email me.

Drinking Malay Style: The 'Super' Beers

Yesterday, I left Kuala Lumpur for a much needed break in the Malaysian highlands. Hopping on a bus, I took a pleasant three-hour ride north to the small town of Tanah Rata. It's a cozy little place nestled high in the mountains amongst giant tea plantations and stunning orchid gardens. The dry weather is the perfect escape from the humid weather and crowded metropolitan hubbub of peninsular Malaysia. And with single rooms starting at 10rm ($3.15) a night, it's a steal. 

An Afternoon in Bliss: Tanah Rata's Tea Plantation

It really is cooler in the highlands. And the scenery is absolutely stunning.

Nestled above the dense jungle that covers most of peninsular Malaysia is an area the locals know as 'the highlands'. At an altitude of 1,440m, a mixture of mountains and jungles, it has some of the most spectacular scenery that Malaysia can offer.

Dinner with a Stranger: Kuala Lumpur

'Muddy confluence' said the fat man sitting across from me, 'that's what Kuala Lumpur means'. Leaning back in the rusty chair, I reflected on his translation. Malaysia's capital Kuala Lumpur is, in some sense, a city of muddied boundaries. It's caught in a metropolitan dilemma; it aspires to be Singapore, but at times feels more like Bangkok. Much of city has the appearance of its clean and clinically efficient brother in the south. But on the edges, it's all the raffish ins-and-outs of its wilder sister in the north.