Burmese Days: Sweat, Stupas and Slumping Tourism

Most tourists visit Burma during the high season is December, and now I understand why. Only fools come here to brave the summer heat.

The summers are not hot. They are sweltering. Or actually, what one word in the English language can precisely describe the reaction of a body being baked in an oven as sweat leaks from every pore?

George Orwell, too, searched his soul for poetry to say what it means to feel hot, Burmese hot:

…there was a closeness in the air, a threat of the long, stifling midday hours.

It was nearly nine o’clock and the sun was fiercer every minute. The heat throbbed down on one’s head with a steady, rhythmic thumping, like blows from an enormous bolster.

The flowers, oppressive to the eyes, blazed with not a petal stirring, in a debauch of sun. The glare sent a weariness through one’s bones… The evil time of day was beginning, as the Burmese say, ‘when feet are silent.’
“Burmese days” by george orwell

When day turned to cooler night, a kind of music began to break the silence: women chanting prayers, rhythmic bongs of a gong, kids laughing, wind chimes bouncing in the breeze.

Most days, I rode a scooter to peek at the little buddhas resting in the cool caves of burnt-red pagodas and to escape the heat. Even though concrete stones were like lava in the 100-degree heat, I still had to shed my shoes out of respect for the sacred sites and hop from stone to stone into the shade. Most of the temples are empty, but the famous temples ones have guardians who sweep the floors and serve offerings to Buddha.

At Thagya Pone temple, the guardian was a middle-aged man who ended every sentence with a big laugh. He said he volunteered seven days a week to refill the water and fresh flowers for worship. I wondered how he got to have a monopoly over this special temple, which had the distinct feature of a small buddha nesting inside a larger buddha statue. Did he have to fight someone to lay claim?

Here in Bagan, it seemed crucial where you stood guard: The man I talked to made money from selling sand drawings of Buddha, elephants and animal symbols of Myanmar’s eight days of the week, and most tourists only stopped for the special temples where they were more likely to buy something. A small black-and-white drawing cost 8,000 kyat; in the high season, maybe twice as much. He said he needed to peddle quite a few because sales recently were much lower than his old family business of making lacquerware jars and bowls. He had to switch, he said, because tourists don’t buy expensive souvenirs anymore.

The slump in demand was probably related to the boycott of tourism to Myanmar as a protest against the government’s role in the massacre of Rohingya Muslims in the north. (Two Reuters journalists who won a Pulitzer Prize for their expose of the murders were convicted of violating an official secrets law and sentenced to prison. After international pressure, in May, they were freed.)

As the violence in the north escalated, the number of tourists dropped by more than 25% from 2015 to 2017, according to official data cited by local English-language newspaper Myanmar Times. Even now, those who do come are reluctant to spend a lot of money out of concern that supporting the local economy shows tacit support of the government.

Is it possible to visit a country ruled by a repressive government without some measure of guilt? Boycotts are meant to hurt the people in power, but they also hurt ordinary people who are trying to survive. How fair is that?

Myanmar sees its damaged reputation as a problem to be fixed. Late last year, the tourism minister announced a new campaign of “Myanmar, Be Enchanted” to attract more visitors. They replaced the more straightforward, but hopeful-sounding slogan, “Let the Journey Begin.”

Temples to see:

Ananda Temple: the big, stunning white one
Thatbyinnyu Phaya: the white one with black accents
Bu Paya: conical one by the muddy Irrawaddy River
Htilominlo Temple: the large one with many levels
Sulamani Phaya: the free spot to watch a sunset (they check your archaeological zone pass)
Dhammayangyi Temple: the blocky, layered one with herds of white cows

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