11-28-10: Myanmar

Crossing the Border

We woke up a little nervous and ambivalent about crossing in to
Myanmar; should we cross all the way into Myanmar and hang out there
for the day or try to avoid getting stamped into Myanmar at all? Last
night we discovered that our visa exemption expired that day, as
opposed to two days from now as we had previously thought. So by our
crossing today, we have overstayed by one day. This compounded our
unease; what happens when you overstay your visa? We had heard about a
fine, but is it actually levied? Do the border agents get mad at you?
The uncertainty of it all made us loathe to get started. We tarried
over rice soup at the guesthouse and walked into town at no more than
an amble.

Finally Robert mustered up enough conviction for both of us and
convinced me to get the crossing out of the way, come what may. We got
out our passports and departure forms and stood in the "Passport
Control" line. The sign being in English - the line was only for
foreigners; Thais and Myanmarians can cross at will so long as they
are on the correct side when the border closes each evening. The line
moved slowly, and our overstay generated even more paperwork.
Thankfully they didn't harass us, just asked for a 500B fine ($17 US).
Regardless, we will be more careful next time.

Like cattle in loading pens, we were herded across a bridge to Myanmar
Immigration. A river forms the border here and currently it is only
waist deep. We heard accounts of smugglers just wading across from a
fellow at our guesthouse and the guidebook, but we didn't get to see
it first hand. The no-mans-land bridge was an unpleasant place.
Myanmar is significantly poorer than Thailand, thus the bridge
attracts beggars. They were both young children and more persistent
than others we have encountered - no fun for either of the parties
involved.

Once we encountered this, we decided to attempt a quick U-turn without
completely crossing into Myanmar, but we were denied re-entry pursuant
to actually being stamped into Myanmar. So cross we did. Myanmar
Immigration consisted of passing into an office protected by a red
velvet curtain and talking to the immigration officers behind. We paid
only $10 US apiece since we had US currency. Otherwise the fee is
500B, equivalent to $17 US. There was another westerner in the office
as we went through. He was quite unhappy that they wouldn't make
change for his $100 US dollar bill, in baht or dollars. He went about
it all wrong though - he raised his voice and made quite a fuss. Even
a cursory scan of a guidebook will recommend keeping a smile and a
light tone during any negotiation in Asia. Losing your temper is
considered shameful and will get you no where. Indeed, he was denied
completely. I'm not sure how it eventually turned out though, we
passed through the red curtain quietly as soon as we were done.

Our passports, however, did not. I confirmed that I wanted to do some
shopping, so he set my passport aside until I returned to collect it.
Apparently this is standard procedure, but it made me uncomfortable
none-the-less. Now we got to experience Myanmar! (This is not entirely
fair; I doubt the border market is representative of Myanmar in
general, but it is all we will see on this trip. Too much to see and
too little time. With adequate preparation and research, we have heard
that Myanmar is actually a great place to visit. It used to be a
British colony, so their english is quite good and both the citizens
and the government welcome visitors, though for different reasons. I'm
sad to miss it.)

Border Market

We were corralled again like cattle away from the border for a while
before being released to determine our own path. This is an
unfortunate system because you become a captive audience for
aggressive tuk-tuk drivers. They creep upstream and plant themselves
along the corral, offering well-worn laminated picture signs
advertising tours to nearby monuments and temples. At times it was
difficult to squeeze past them and made for a terrible first
impression. This treatment continued as we followed the herd down a
set of steps into the border market. The only difference here was the
offer: cigarettes as opposed to tours. There was little respect for
personal space and no way to say no without relocating your person.

Eventually we cleared the most congested area at the bottom of the
steps and were able to stand unmolested for a moment to get our
bearings. If we wanted to consume, here would have been the place to
do it. There were stalls selling almost everything: sunglasses (they
were the most aggressive in calling us over with, "looking! 40
baht!"), shoes, luggage, music, foods, souvenir knick-knacks, etc. I
don't remember much, just the feeling of being overwhelmed. We
navigated our way out of the market and onto a street as my eyes swam
from looking at too many things all at once.

Malaysian Fried Noodles and the Post Office

We walked up and down this street several times before deciding on a
place to get lunch. Parts of the menu had been translated, so we had a
fighting chance. We both opted for Malaysian fried noodles, unsure of
how they differed from Pad Thai. I was even able to explain, in a mix
of English and thai, that I didn't want meat in mine (and was
successful!). We were each served three dishes: sliced cabbage and
onion with a sweet chili sauce in a small saucer, clear soup in a
small bowl and fried wide noodles on a plate. We ate the "salad"
first, in two or three bites, bit that was clearly incorrect as our
saucers were quickly replaced - I think we basically scarfed down the
catsup. This was the only noticeable gaff, however; or else they
completely wrote us off and let us do our thing. I then used the soup
and the salad as condiments, but I don't really think this was correct
either. Who knows?

After we paid we asked about post cards and the post office - we
wanted to document our excursion with a myanmar postmark! We were much
more successful using English in this pursuit and the owner gave us
excellent directions, also in english. We found the post office
easily; it was closed. We couldn't think of anything more productive
to do with our limited time in Myanmar - we had about four hours at
this point before the border closed. (Interesting note: Myanmar time
is 30 minutes behind Thai time. No clear reason as to why...) We
crossed the bridge and returned to the land of smiles, passports
thankfully awaiting our return.

Home Again, Home Again?

It was a surprisingly stressful day, punctuated by uncertainty and
trepidation. We ate an unsatisfying lunch (food consumed across the
border doesn't count) at the only "recommended" restaurant in town and
went back to the guesthouse, passing out cold for several hours.

After blinking awake, we ventured out of our hole to find food. We
were hopeful the night market would be as bustling as it had been the
night before, but it wasn't. We walked the strip of sparse food stalls
a few times before settling on...noodle soup. Big surprise. The
proprietor spoke good English and enjoying hamming with his customers,
Thai and farang. We also ordered stir-fried morning glory (a
stem-filled leafy green) and I think I found a new favorite vegetable.
We found desert a few stalls away - donuts and hot soy milk. I tried
to ask if the donuts were eaten with the soy milk, but we barely
understood the aforementioned nutty, white liquid to be soy milk, so
eating instructions fell outside our grasp. We dipped them soggy and
they were good.

Home for more sleeps - we really aren't sleeping well if we can sleep
nine hours and take a two hour nap!