Where did our joy go?

We are now back in Montreal  but I had started  this short text in Myanmar  and thought  I’d post it.

This must be what being in the leading peloton on the Tour de France feels like. As I’m riding up the hill, motor bikes follow and spin laps around me taking pictures. On the side of the road people bounce up and down and shout with excitement as they see us approaching. Of course being loaded like a mule and towing a child, all of this is happening at 6 km/h. This is where the Tour analogy somewhat falls apart. It is also worth mentioning that my performance is completely “clean” and fuelled only by rice noodles and seafood with the exception unhealthy amounts of Nescafe 3 in 1.
We are getting used to all the attention and since at this speed the landscape stays the same for some time, I get the chance to indulge in one of my favourite things to do on a bike trip: getting lost in my thoughts. Looking around I wonder how it is that the people in a dirt poor Burmese fishing village that is not even on my map in a developing country that has been under an oppressive military government for decades smile and laugh more while they are working than people at home do when they are on vacation?
I don’t pretend to know the answer or to understand the first thing about Myanmar or happiness for that matter. I certainly don’t pretend that I would trade places with anyone from that village but I do wonder where did our happiness go? What is it that the Burmese understand that we have forgotten? What is keeping their smiles so close to the surface and ours buried so deep? I’m pretty sure the answer is not in the poverty or the filth all around or the abysmal health care or the lack of freedom and opportunities but is this the price to pay for the comfort we have at home? Is it the simpler life? Buddhism? The sense of community? Is it something in the fish sauce?
I don’t expect I will ever find the answer although I do think that the sense of community does play a critical role. Looking at it from the seat of my bike, I could compare the Burmese and Canadians (and maybe it isn’t fair to bundle everyone up here but I’ll do it anyway) with two very different stages of life. The Burmese seem to retain through their adult life the easily amused, quick to laugh playful nature of a 4 year old. Alex is right at home here and never has to look for long to find a willing adult to play with. “We”, in comparison, seem to go through adulthood with the bored, self-conscious, self-important and self-absorbed demeanour of teenagers observing life like it was a movie intended for a younger audience. I have to say, it looks more fun to be a 4 year old.
I know that when we show up with our two little blondish kids on bicycles it’s a bit like the circus just got in town and that is bound to bring out some smiles. But these are not the regular, courteous and somewhat sterile smiles we exchange as standard politeness back home. We are talking about the reaction one could expect if we were a four piece marching band showing up dressed in chicken costumes and handing out free candy at an elementary school.
It’s the sincerity and warmth of these spontaneous bursts of joy through what, I can only imagine, are pretty tough lives that are so disarming. If I could wish to learn one thing from my short time in Myanmar, something I could use, it would be this ability to keep joy and laughter so close at hand no matter what else is going on at the time. Here’s  to a long road ahead.

Home

On the outside  it still looks the same. We are navigating a sea of potholes  amongst  the  trucks,   scooters and various livestock and always the smiles, waves and enthusiastic  Mingalaba! But my head isn’t  here anymore and my heart much too heavy to return the smiles.

We have received some sad news from home and we must go to our loved ones. This will be the end of our journey. There  will be more from the little green bike but for now we need to focus on getting  to Montreal.

Footnotes from the other half

While I have been keeping my own journal as we travel and I generally leave the blog writing to Andre-Jean, every once in a while I have the urge to share some of my own impressions from the trip. Cycling provides lots of time for your thoughts to wander and I often find some of the highlights and most memorable moments from the past couple of weeks replaying in my head as we ride. Here is a glimpse of some of my favorites….
The guards in dress uniform at the Royal Palace in Bangkok stand motionless in the sun while tourists walk past or pose for photos beside them. They show no signs of noticing anyone, except when Alex takes one by the hand to see if he is real. He is taken by surprise and looks down at Alex and smiles. They are real after all …
Walking down the narrow street in our neighborhood a man passes us on his motorbike. He sees the boys and stops to give them each a sandwich from his lunch. As he starts to leave he turns back and hands us the bag with the remainder of his lunch as well, despite our protests. It is just one of many examples of the kindness and generosity of nearly everyone we meet. Multiple times a day someone will run up to us and press food, cold drinks or treats into the boy’s hands. There have been hot afternoons of riding fuelled by ice cream and sodas and the kindness of strangers….
The quiet beam of pride on Nico’s face when we finally met our host in Bangkok and she declared him her hero for riding solo on this trip at 7 years old… and our own pride at seeing him handle riding in busy traffic like a pro….
Watching the boys exploring ruins and temples in Ayutthaya, searching for the stone carving of Buddha in the tree roots. Nico climbing to the top of the temple steps to play King of his own castle…
Alex’s tears when we left a busy temple without spending a few minutes sitting quietly in front of the giant statue of Buddha. Both the boys, but Alex in particular, seem to find the calm environment soothing. We went back in and sat down….
Nico breaking through his shyness and opening up with the kids we met staying in the yard of a family restaurant along the way. One of the things he was nervous about before the trip was communication in a language he didn’t speak and it was holding him back from playing much with other kids, but to see him running around playing games was great. Leaving the next day was a very sad thing for him…
Alex’s charm and quick smile with those he meets. Kids get so much attention here and the younger they are the more so. People love to play with him, and fortunately he loves the attention for the most part. Hearing his laugh and watching him playing “you can’t get me” with one of the young men working on the river ferries stays with me…
The looks on the boys faces the first time they saw real elephants. Riding them and bathing them in the river has been one of the highlights of the trip for them so far. Alex’s excitement for that experience and Nico’s laughter as his elephant dunked them under water and sprayed them was priceless…
After a hot day riding Nico was feeling particularly tired as we pulled into a town searching for a hotel that seemed to be further and further down the road each time we asked for directions. We finally stopped at the local police station to find out where it was and one of the officers volunteered to take us there himself. Nico managed to find the energy to put on an impressive burst of speed to keep up with our motorcycle escort…
The excitement of walking through the jungle and exploring waterfalls, swimming in the cool water and feeling the “fish massage” as little fish nibbled on our toes when we sat still. Nico sliding down natural rock slides into the water and climbing behind the falls. Alex paddling around the pools in his little life jacket with a huge grin on his face….
The boys playing on the beach and in the ocean now that we’ve reached the coast. They are in heaven swimming, splashing in the waves, and running on the beach. The water is so warm they can literally stay in for hours. The local kids are so interested in coming over to play and Nico has been finding new friends each day. He had been asking when he would get to sit on the beach and eat a coconut from a tree so we’ve finally been able to make that happen…
There are other memorable experiences too that wouldn’t necessarily count as highlights, (such as our 4 hour ride from the border of Thailand through the winding mountains into Myanmar on a rough road at breakneck speeds. I didn’t know a small child could vomit 8 times in a single trip – unfortunately it didn’t seem to slow our driver down at all) but with each low point comes an equally positive moment that brings everything back into balance. We have been received with exceptional kindness everywhere we have gone and have been offered not only food and cold drinks, but also help, escorts, rides, places to stay, and endless smiles, waves and encouragement. It is truly humbling and a reminder of how much more we can all do for each other when given the chance….

Borders

Apologies  but we are experiencing  some wifi/Bluetooth  challenges  so pictures will have to wait

 

Now seems like as good time as any to make a promise to myself: All future bike trips will take place in temperate regions.

The day had started beautifully. We had just spent a good night with air conditioning in the library of a small rural elementary school where we had been invited to stay the afternoon before. We were on the bikes earlyish to take advantage of the “cooler” morning hours.

I had a few worries on my mind though and I was anxious to cover some distance. Our plan was to cross the border into Myanmar via the seldom used crossing at Phu Nam Ron. To get there we had to start climbing into the mountains of western Thailand. Once on the other side, we’d have to find transportation to Dawei, a four hour drive through jungle covered mountains on a rough dirt road without any services.

Even if we had wanted to ride the road to Dawei, there is no way we could have covered this distance in one day and it is illegal for foreigners to camp in Myanmar. There is also no accommodation at the border making securing transport somewhat critical. The problem is that transport is usually done by mini bus that can’t take 4 bikes and I’m banking on the idea that in many developing countries, people have a way of making things possible if a bit rough around the edges. Still, I figured getting to the border early would be better in case we ran into complications.

As we started climbing the modest 8% hill, it became clear that the mere 10 kilometres we still had to cover to the border would be a challenge. I’m not such a bad hill climber but I don’t do 41 degrees very well. Alex got a puncture which did nothing to improve my mood. Very soon after Nico got one too which sent me over the edge. It was getting hotter, later and we still had a long climb to go. The biking felt like riding a stationary bike as hard as you can inside a sauna. I’m pretty sure I could have steeped tea in my water bottles. Even the stray dogs are too hot to bother chasing us. With my head pounding with dehydration I flagged down a pickup truck and using my most pitiful face asked how much longer the climb was. The driver read through my shameful display and offered us a ride to the border. I was sitting in the back holding the bikes, enjoying the effortless climb and the breeze blissfully unaware that the driver, Robyn informed me later, had both hands and eyes on his cell phone most of the way.

I always find border crossings a little unnerving especially entering a country with a political situation like Myanmar. Of course, when you show up on bicycles with kids you are essentially waved right through, given cold water, sticky rice treats and sandwiches, the kids are showered with candy and border officials line up to get their picture taken with you. No harrowing tales of bribes and corruption here, just more warm smiles, treats and thumbs-up.

After riding the 4 kilometres of “no man’s land” we arrive in Htee Kee and start looking for transportation in this dusty outpost. We are greeted with the same warmth as in Thailand and people were eager to help despite the language barrier. We quickly found someone with a small truck equipped with a roof rack who would take us albeit for a price that seemed a bit high but we climbed in relieved that our plan was actually going to work.

Our driver insisted on securing the bikes to the roof himself which made me uneasy but he was very firm about it so I gave in. Very soon after we left it became clear that this would be a long ride. We made many stops to add more ties to the rattling bikes. The driving was erratic at best and the road very rough and winding so Alex vomited, for the first time of many, about 15 minutes in. This said, the scenery of deep river valleys framed by towering mountains covered in lush tropical rainforest was wonderfully exotic after the parched landscapes of western Thailand.

After about 3 hours we reached the paved road where, with the benefit of better traction, our driver could finally fully express his love for speed and general disregard for life. There are many words that come to mind to describe how the man was driving but this is a family bike trip…

We arrived in Dawei at sunset with several new dents on the bikes thanks to our driver’s questionable securing job including serious damage to my front tire. The warnings from the guide books turned out to be true. Since few hotels can accept foreigners, it is best to get to your destination early, otherwise things could be fully booked. The price of accommodation can also be prohibitive and completely out of proportion with the cost of living. There is only a handful of hotels in Dawei and the first two we tried had no vacancies. Fortunately the third one took us in but for US $46. The room was comfortable and air conditioned though so we quickly collapsed for a good night’s sleep after a long and challenging day.

We were very reassured the next day when we realized that most Burmese don’t drive like blood thirsty maniacs and, although we have to get used to the constant honking, it’s nice to be back on the right side of the road. A short ride on a wonderful back road full of life, smiles and tropical scenery led us to Maungmagan and the long sandy beaches on the Andaman Sea. While there are some rudimentary tourist facilities here, the area is still very peaceful, quiet and beautiful with tourists far outnumbered by local fishermen. We can’t pass through a little slice of Paradise like this without stopping for several days. As the boys play with the local kids, bouncing around in the warm waves, I’m sure they won’t complain if we stay put for a bit.

Out of Bangkok, Courteous Chaos

Chan and Peet showed up as promised at 9 am sharp. They have been tasked by our Warmshowers host to guide us through town to the train station. It always takes a few pedal strokes to get used to the wobble of a loaded bike, especially with a kid attached to it. Add to this riding on the left side of the road in a city were traffic rules are more like suggestions and we were in for some fun.
It was the morning of Chinese new year so traffic was relatively light and our guides took great care of us. I was beaming with fatherly pride watching Nico expertly manoeuvring through the cars, trucks, tuktuks, mopeds and occasional chickens. Alex sang in the back the whole way (the Imperial March from Star Wars for the most part)
What Bangkok traffic lacks in organization it makes up for with civility and respect. Thai drivers lack the sense of entitlement and self-righteousness that plague us in Canada. Riding here was not nearly as bad as I feared. I’ll take a bit of chaos over road rage any day. It actually felt pretty safe in no small part due to the fact that we didn’t have to worry about directions thanks to our guides.
The train took us about 90km north to Ayutthaya where we would start to ride after a day of visiting the ruins of the ancient capital of the Kingdom of Siam. Cycling is an ideal way to get a around the various sites in Ayutthaya and for us a good introduction to riding in temperatures well above 30 degrees. At one point, the thermometer in my watch read 39. You could argue that it was in the sun but, then again, so were we.
Alex is taking a liking to sitting in front of the Buddha and gets upset if we try to leave a temple without a proper sit down. Puzzled, I questioned him on what it is that he likes when sitting like this. “Well… he’s big and he’s made out of gold” was his reply. There is no arguing with the spiritual awakening of a 4 year old.
And we’re off!
The road out of Ayutthaya was nothing like the brochure. It was a long stretch of dusty, busy, shadeless highway running through utterly charmless industrial rice farms albeit with some cool new birds to look at. A lot of it was under construction too. We are still figuring out our map and discovered that the colour code and numbers may not be a completely reliable way to guess how big or busy a road will be. It is also oddly tricky to figure out where the towns are. At the end of our first day, when we realized that what we thought would be a town ended up being nothing more than an intersection with a freeway, we felt slightly deflated, which is incidentally where Robyn had her first flat tire.
We spotted a small roadside restaurant and walked to it. This is where we met Jae-Pei and our day completely turned around. Moments later we were sitting on her surprisingly (given the location) pleasant patio cold beer in hand. The kids were having a blast running around with a handful of local children in a game that no one seemed to fully understand. They would sporadically interrupt their running to go play with sticks on a fragile looking bamboo foot bridge over an alarmingly deep canal and resume running after they caught their breath. No one would guess that they had just spent the whole day cycling in the sun. Jae-Pei gave us the permission to camp and fed us a feast. Just like that, the whole day was worth it. Even the flat tire as we may not have stopped here had we not been forced to. It was an emotional morning when we had to say goodbye. Nico was especially saddened.
The riding improves as we are getting farther away from Bangkok and the roads are getting quieter. We had some wonderful kilometres on shady back roads as well as a good dose of hot highways but always people smile, shout words of encouragement and give us a “thumbs-up”. We have already stopped counting the number of times we have been stopped by people who wanted to take a picture with us.
We made it to Kanchanaburi in 3 days and will spend some time exploring the region and catching up on some school work. On the menu, a little break from cycling, swimming in waterfalls, exploring caves, visit the elephants and many more food stalls.

Night and Day in Bangkok

Your own head can be a scary place to spend the night when jetlag keeps you up. The last time we visited Bangkok, we had flown in from Mumbai after spending three months in India and Nepal. Back then the Thai metropolis had felt like a haven of tranquillity in comparison to the bustling streets of India. Not so much this time around with Vancouver as a point of reference.
It’s been over a decade since we’ve travelled to any part of the world that shakes you up a little and the first couple of days have felt a bit overwhelming. I felt rusty. We are staying at a house offered by a warmshowers host outside of the touristy area. Not very far but enough so that there isn’t a banana pancake in sight around here. (Our first breakfast was a fiery yellow curry with noodle on the street. The kids went for the plain rice.)
After a big first day of finding our bearings, I was laying wide awake at 2:30 AM questioning everything. The idea of guiding my kids on bikes through Bangkok traffic seems especially daunting. The heat is oppressive, the boys can’t just eat plain rice for breakfast. How are we going to get out of this city? My mind is spinning and it is not taking me in a good place. Sleep never comes.
Then the sun rises through the tropical haze and as we venture out again on our second day the darkness in my mind quickly dissipates. This is, after all, the land of smiles. The kids, but especially Alex are treated like superstars. Everyone wants to touch them and they really don’t seem to mind the attention too much. Actually Alex is positively delighted by this. Their stamina is remarkable as they walk for hours between the Burmese embassy and the various sights. They weather the heat and crowds like seasoned travellers and are especially taken by the flamboyant temples. People are quick to smile and help and even give us food for no other reason than the cuteness of our children and the kindness in their hearts.
While we’ve been staying here for a few days, we have yet to meet our host, Supaporn but I am starting to believe that she is watching over us like some kind of guardian angel. When we were “lost” a couple of days ago trying to get back to “our” house, a man offered directions. He brought us to the next street corner where another man happened to know Supaporn. Seconds later I was on the phone with her (I didn’t know her phone number as all our communication had been by email) and we got sorted out. There are over six million people living in a Bangkok… what were the odds? Now she has arranged for her friend to come and guide us to the train station tomorrow morning to ease our apprehension of braving the Bangkok traffic with the kids.

With our Burmese visas in hand, many of the Bangkok must-sees checked we spend a delightful last day in Bangkok with Kat, and old friend of Robyn’s who showered our kids with treats setting the bar unreasonably high for their future expectations. The bikes are reassembled, the traveling legs strong once again, we’re ready to begin. Next stop Ayutthaya.