Exiting Burma

Wednesday, 30 January 2013

On the 29th of January, we leave Moulmein by boat for Hpa-an. It's a pleasant journey of three hours spent reading, writing or dreaming at the countryside. We then get on the road eastwards, heading towards the Thai border.

The surroundings of Hpa-an are truly stunning: sharp mountains are rising randomly from the otherwise completely flat plains like gigantic teeth.

The sky darkens and we get caught in a heavy rain, the first of our trip.

Further East, the mountains disappear and endless plantations of rubber trees make for a duller road. After nightfall, we stop for dinner in a village close to Kyondo and enquired whether we can stay at the local monastery. This is where the fun starts.
We are directed to an open-air Buddhist shelter, definitely below the standards we've been accustomed to. Undisturbed, we wash out of a bucket, change and install our sleeping mats on the ground. After a small hour, the restaurant owner comes back with a couple of guys and a pick-up, probably the village chief and the local police. We are told that immigration officials want to speak with us on the phone. Pierre goes to the restaurant, while FX sticks around in good company.
Apparently, we are way inside the restricted area and immigration wants us to come back to Hpa-an to discuss our situation. They are ready to send us back by truck for free. Pierre explains that this is "simply not possible" because we are biking in the other direction. He unfolds the permit which is read on the phone to several persons. They still insist on bringing us backwards, but Pierre remains inflexible, much to the astonishments of the locals around the phone. We are causing quite a row. Finally, a common ground is found: the pick-up will drive us to the village of Thamanyat relatively close by, and the immigration will send some of its people to see us.

In Thamanyat, we are warmly received by a small crowd of people. We are seated in a Buddhist ceremony room open on the street. Tea and energy drinks are offered. It's difficult to tell who is who. But people seem to be well-spirited, often laughing around loudly. Maybe we are offering a rare distraction. We hand out the passports and the permit. Shortly after a truck with the immigration officials arrives. Surprisingly, they are smiling and show deference. We are told we can sleep in the ceremony room for the night. We understand that most of the people around will spend the night in the same place, possibly to ensure that we are safe. This permit is very powerful stuff!

Around midnight we fall asleep trying to ignore our hosts chatting or hand copying our documents a few meters away. At 4pm incredibly loud Buddhist prayers are played on speakers all around town and wake us up completely a first time. Apparently, this is a holy village where the highly respected monk U Wi Naya lived and died. Vegetarianism is still compulsory three miles around. At 6AM, the night is definitely over. The leading immigration officer is there again and there's a copy machine on the ground. Some people have been sleeping even less than us!

After a hearty breakfast in the dark, we pack our bags and part from our hosts. We are also handed several fresh copies of our documents to hand out on the way. We are allowed to bike, but not surprisingly, an escort of two motorbikes is accompanying us. We commit to make it to the border across the Karen hills by the end of the day.

A 7 AM we are on our bikes, a record of sorts!

The road first brings us to Kawkareik around 10h30 AM, the last town before the mountains. Thanks to our escort and the paper copies we make it through the check points easily. We still have to stop and sit down a few minutes at the larger immigration post outside of Kawkareik. An official tells us the road is dangerous and too difficult to do by bike. We respond kindly but fermly that we have some experience with bad roads and are allowed to leave by road.

The road is tough indeed, but it's not very long (less than 2 hours of ascent) and Manipur has set the bar higher in terms of bad roads. The difficulty lies in the heat and the humudity. FX is loosing litters of water, literally. Not a single centimeter is left dry at the top.

Oddly we cannot find anywone around speaking a Karen language. The forests around the road have been levelled systematicaly. A sign that the road and its surroundings have been cleared of any Karen presence. We arrive in town around 5h30 PM after 112km, the legs happy to take a break.

In the morning, immigration officers come to meet us at the hotel during our breakfast. They want details on our itinerary and seem both surprised and relieved to hear that we are heading out. This confirms something we've long suspected: there is zero coordination between all these local authorities!

After getting rid of all the Kyats we have left we head out to the border post. All is taken care off in a few minutes, nearly too fast for us to savour the instant. The Burmese officials take a picture of us and suddenly we are out of Burma, alone on the bridge leading to the Thai border.