The temples of Mrauk U
After a half hour break in the hotel, a small washing action and a less worthwhile breakfast in the form of toast and bananas at a very dirty table under which at least 12 dead flies lie, we set out again.
Today we want to see some of the 150 ancient temple ruins in Mrauk U, which means „old city“. Mrauk U was once the capital of the influential Rakhine kingdom with a 3,000 year history. In the 16th century it was an important free trade port and today Mrauk U is an archaeological site with some very interesting buildings and temples. Even if I somehow lose track of which temple belongs to which king and how old he is after a short time, this doesn’t take away the magic of the place in the least. Because there are hardly any other tourists here, I feel like one of the first explorers.
At the oldest and most beautiful temple, the Shittaung Temple, which houses about 80,000 Buddha statues, Myint is totally annoyed with the government. A few years ago, the government decided to put white street lamps on the temple. Which, of course, makes absolutely no sense. Nobody goes to the temple at night! But now ugly white street lamps at the thousand year old temple stand for it and spoil the view. Seems the government in Myanmar is exactly the same as in Germany.
Despite the white lanterns, however, the temple is still beautiful, we roam old corridors with beautiful wall decorations and walk through a garden with statues sitting to the right and left of the path. Some are intact despite the long time, some have been partially restored and others have been destroyed beyond recognition.
We continue through half-decayed ruins, with large Buddha’s of rock. Here nature has reclaimed its place and the old, crumbly stone arches are overgrown with plants. When we finally stand on the half sunken roof of the temple, I have to warn Mirko several times not to go one step further. Below us is only an old archway, which is now covered with clay and plants. I am not sure if he can carry our weight and as I said, there is no doctor or even a hospital here.
The new grandstand at the football field is also great. This was built exclusively for budget reasons. The money was just there for that exact precinct and had to go. Whether there is a human playing on this field is irrelevant. So there is a brand new concrete grandstand next to a field where the grass grows as tall as a man.
About 2 kilometres further on there is a playing field which is actually used… Reminds me somehow very much of Berlin Airport and the German bureaucracy. Not to forget the new station which was built last year. That there are no tracks in Mrauk U is also irrelevant.
At the temple descent at sunset Mirko manages this time to fall on his face in the finest Asian hiking equipment. As I turn around, I see his ankle, already swollen from the flesh wound, twisting pretty badly. But at the last second he can save himself again and nothing happens. That’s probably because Myint prayed during our temple tour today. Or simply because miracles happen here all the time.
It is also interesting that there are three helicopter landing sites between the beautiful temple landscape. Myint says they’re for the government. The government doesn’t use roads. Well, Myanmar and Germany aren’t that far away from each other.
To Sittwe by speedboat
The following morning also starts early, at 07:30 our guide picks us up and takes us by speedboat to Sittwe. Myint has an appointment with a doctor there. To get an appointment here you have to register one day in advance. Since it can’t be done over the phone, Myint’s brother, who lives in Sittwe, did it for him.
I have already gained a lot of experience with speedboats in Vietnam. I remember a terrible 10 hour boat trip at 35 degrees below deck with no air to breathe.
The Burmese, on the other hand, do it completely differently. Instead of 35 degrees without air we take our seats in the first class directly under the air conditioning. Of course, the Burmese can’t help but set the air conditioning directly to a pleasant ‑12 degrees and in addition there is first-class karaoke entertainment in volume: Adieu eardrum. By the way, only rich Burmese, tourists and seriously ill people drive first class. So we have a pretty wild mixture in the compartment and the older man sitting further back doesn’t look good at all.
When two monks get on board and one of them sits down directly in the cabin with the boatman, I am relieved. After all, having spiritual counsel on board twice has never hurt. By the way, another advantage of the first class is that we have life jackets here, because they are hanging under the roof. As I prepare my exit strategy in case of an emergency and take a closer look at the swims I notice that they are only enough for half of the passengers in the first class. I try to calm myself with the thought that there are certainly more life jackets in some pantry.
For the next three hours we’ll be freezing our asses off. So while icicles slowly form on my nose, I desperately try to wrap my head in my scarf and am extremely grateful that I still have a thin cardigan in my backpack. Mirko’s even worse off. He only wears a T‑shirt and of course refuses to use my scarf as a blanket. He’d better hold his foot towards the air conditioning, then he could get a little thinner again.
When we finally arrive at the harbour after 3 hours I am deaf and my body temperature has cooled down to about 12 degrees. I’ve seldom been so happy to get into the hot, humid Asian air.
On our way through the crowd, past various Tuk Tuk drivers, who of course all want to offer us their services, a moped driver with an original Wehrmacht helmet comes towards us.
Now without shit, an original Wehrmacht helmet with embossed imperial eagle and red swastika on both sides. This thing looks like new! I can’t believe it, the good German Kruppstahl is walking around in the middle of Myanmar. How the hell did this thing get here? Even Adolf himself would not have expected that his equipment would still be used as a motorcycle helmet about 70 years later in Myanmar. What would I give if someone could tell me how this thing found its way into a military dictatorship that has been sealed off from the outside world for the last 60 years.
Myint has already organised a driver for us and receives his waiting number for the doctor at the same time. The waiting number is already over, but he has some connections to the doctor, so he hopes to be preferred. On a normal day, the doctor sees about 100 patients. It is the only ophthalmologist in this region! Today he has to travel to Yangon, so he only opened half a day and Myint has to hurry to take his chance. Therefore we are the first to go to doctors street in Sittwe and drop off Myint there.
To put it mildly, the conditions are unbelievable, people are queuing up to the street and I would guess from my stomach that there are more than 100 patients today. Right next to it is a baby doctor, here hundreds of mothers with their babies are probably also sitting on the pavement waiting for treatment. How lucky I am that I was born in Germany. I should really be more grateful for my German passport.
At the airport in Sittwe we have to wait another 4 hours before we finally continue towards Yangon. There is nothing to see here except 2 street dogs who regularly come to visit and check the contents of the public trash can. That’s about it.
The flight with the propeller plane is an ordeal, at least for me. By the way, it is especially reassuring when I see a mechanic driving around the propeller when I get out. That was the very last time I flew with an intra-Asian airline, that is not Thai Airways or Bangkok Airways. Propeller planes are no longer on the list.
Continue: The Asia Royal Hospital