My Heart and I agreed to another quiet day before moving further across Myanmar. Herein lies one of the huge benefits of independent travel: The freedom to stay or go as whim takes us. There is no schedule, no bus waiting in the parking lot, and no perky guide hoisting a green umbrella for all the ducklings to follow. The down-side, for some, is being responsible for all of the planning, finding guesthouses, and making decisions. Given that someone had to decide something, we decided to remain in the small town of Nyaungshwe on the shores of Inle Lake. We like it here; reason enough.

Wandering on a slow walkabout is an excellent way to find things that were not being sought. For example, we found a statue wearing glasses. The statue was life-sized, and the spectacles appeared to be the glasses that Sao Shwe Thaike had worn in life.

It was a hot sun that beat down on the gold-panted statue of Sao Shwe Thaike, but I paused to read the English-language summary of his life. As a young man, he served in the British army in World War One. In 1927 he was named the Saopha, of “Lord of Heaven,” of Yawnghwe, one of the Southern Shan States. Sao Shwe Thaike was the regional home-town hero. The home-town hero made good, and he became the president of the newly-independent Union of Burma in 1948. Sao Shwe Thaike warned of the young nations instability in the face of ethnic insurgencies and armed conflicts. He fell to the forces of the military junta that took over Burma in 1962. The home-town hero of Nyaungshwe died in prison that same year.

To begin to understand Myanmar, one has to learn about the many ethnicities that make up this land. The British left Burma in 1947, as they had left their colonies in India, but they did not take all the their troubles with them. Burma was called a union, but it was far more an amalgamation of diverse ethnic regions. The nation is made up of eight major ethnic groups, each with their own language or dialect. There have been many armed conflicts between these different groups and the Bamar, or Burmese-speaking majority. Those conflicts have continued into very recent times. When I was in Northwest Thailand in 2012, where the Shan and Karen (or Karin) were still fighting the forces of the military junta in Myanmar, operating from bases just inside Thailand.

The modern-day nation of Myanmar retains that ethnic diversity, and still struggles with it. One of this country’s poorest ethnic groups are the Rohingya people, and conditions for them have not improved. Quite the opposite. The Rohingya are a Muslim people in the predominantly Buddhist Rahkine state. During WW2, the Rohingya fought with the British against the pro-Japanese Burmese forces. After WW2, Burma became an independent state and conflict with the Rohingya followed. The conflict, often violent, has gone on for half a century. Following renewed attacks in 2016, Myanmar’s military cracked down on the Rohingya. That response earned the new Myanmar government a black-eye from U.N. High Commissioner for Human Rights.

This is the briefest of summaries, brought about by stumbling onto a spectacle-wearing statue in a quiet, sun-drenched square. If the reader is wishes to learn more about Myanmar, and Burmese history, there are are many sources for further reading.

My Heart and I wandered past the busy hub of the town, venturing out into the small lanes that ended at the marshy grasslands and rice paddies. There are streets of water as well, smalls canals that lead to the main canal, and hence to Inle Lake. Water is never far away in this valley, and as much moves by boat as by road.

Circling the edge of the green fields, we passed by an extended arm of Inle Lake. Local folks were fishing from the dikes that contain the waters. We came back into town by the busy main street, where goods moved amongst the flow of scooters.

There are strange contraptions here on the streets and farm lanes. My favorite vehicle is what I call the modular truck. The thing comes from the factory as a bare-bones piece of rolling stock, an open frame coupled to a large truck bed. On the front of the truck is an empty steel platform where an engine is mounted. I have seen all manner of these utility vehicles, and all manner of engines propelling them. They resemble the skeleton of a lorry powered by a giant lawnmower engine. The engines can be unbolted from the trucks and used to power other equipment. The same engine may drive the long-handled tractors that the farmers use to haul carts, or they may be bolted to the insect-like earth tillers that crawl across the rice-paddies on paddle wheels.

Walkabout on a hot day should be followed by sit-about in a cool place. I know of no better in this town than the local tea-shop I have adopted as my own. It was time for tea, snacks, and an idle smoke. What better way to pass the heat of the day than a shaded cat-bird seat, watching bustle of a small-town main street?

You might notice the peaceful dog sharing my shady spot. This leads me to something I have been puzzling over: The mellow nature of Myanmar mutts.

Myanmar is a remarkable land, but there is one aspect of the country that I have not remarked on: The Dogs. Whether street dogs or village dogs, free-roaming canines are a common sight in Southeast Asia. There is a commonality amongst the dogs of this region. Most of the mutts are a variation on the Indian pariah dog, or Desi Dog. The smaller version of dog is the Village Dog. Both of these varieties are a landrace of dog, meaning a domesticated, locally adapted version of a species of animal, in this case a pooch. The things one learns whilst researching a blog.

The Myanmar mutts, like the rest of their SE Asian cousins, are semi-wild, yet semi-socialized canines that live in contact with human settlements. Their development is one of evolution, rather than direct breeding by humans. Think of them as the reminders of ancient dogs who started nosing around human villages more than 15,000 years ago.

These dogs may look more or less the same, but I am here to report an odd observation. The Myanmar doggies, unlike their Lao, Thai, and Cambodian cousins, are mellow beasts. Why that is, I cannot tell you, but it seems to be true. Thai dogs will dog (sorry!) your heels, generally making pests of themselves. Laotian dogs are growlers and barkers, and can be a threat when they form a pack. Cambodian dogs are the worst, at least in my experience. They are sneaky cowards, creeping up behind a solo walker on a quiet pathway. One needs to reach for a throwing stone, and the cowards will scatter.

In Myanmar, however, we had not a single issue with street dogs. I noticed it on our first walkabout in Yangon. The dogs just lay about, are generally neutral, and sometimes even friendly. It took a little getting used to, but the mellow mutts were a fine change from their snappy Cambodian cousins.

The day passed as quiet days will. There is a luxury in slow travel, allowing one to notice the small details, the little things that are not important attractions from the guidebooks. I believe that one of the most important lessons a traveler can learn is when to slow down. A land and culture are often revealed more through experiencing the small and mundane, rather than the grand and important.

I believe this to be true of any destination, including my own homeland. An eager tourist can pass through the United States having seen Mount Rushmore, the Grand Canyon, and Disneyland. They can see and experience those wonderful sights, and more besides, and yet still not get a glimpse of what my native land is all about.

A quiet day passed, and thoughts turned to food. The luxury of time in one place afforded us the benefit of choosing a favorite dinner spot. So it was that we found ourselves back at our local BBQ joint, noshing on grilled skewers and plates of the local salad.

Allow me one more thought on food before I close. The guidebooks will tell you that folks in Myanmar will make a salad out of anything. I am here to tell you that not only is that true, but the end results are fantastic. During our time here, I was becoming very fond of the local tomato salad, very fond indeed. But that is just the start of it. There are many variations on the same theme, including avocado salad, bean salads of all types, and even tea leaf salad. They are delicious, cheap, and filling.

Our quiet day turned to quiet night, and our last night on the shores of Inle Lake. Tomorrow would bring more traveling, this time on the slow train back to Thazi. But that is the stuff of another blog post.

Thanks for your interest in my travel blog. I do hope you enjoy it. If you liked what you read here, how about a free short story? My short story “Orphaned Lies” has recently been featured at the great online journal Dime Show Review. You can check it out here:

“Orphaned Lies” at Dime Show Review

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