Pyay - Of Statues, Rivers and Boats

With Htet Aung behind the wheel, we set off across the Nawaday Bridge. An important link connecting Pyay to Padaung, Thandwe and Ngapali beach, the latter being surely one of the most exquisite places to holiday. Below us lay the mighty Irrawaddy or, as it is officially known in Burmese, Ayeyarwady River. I have always loved rivers. Mighty ones. The Mekong was already deeply embedded in my soul. The Zambezi in Zambia, the Okavango in Botswana and the Orange River in South Africa too. And now, here I was, crossing the Irrawaddy. The river, the country’s largest and most important, originates high in the glaciers of the remote mountains in northern Myanmar. In a region in which Mount Hkakabo, the highest peak in South East Asia, stands tall at 5881 metres. It flows from north to south through Myanmar. Along its 2170 kilometre journey to the Andamen Sea, the Irrawaddy provides a lifeline for all nature and humans.

Our destination was a unique section of the Irrawaddy River. A section which provides sanctuary to the Akauk Taung Buddha cliff carvings. The scenery along the way was that of raw beauty. The narrow road led us through villages. The weather turned hot. I soaked it up as the warm air streamed through open windows. As in Africa, the hot winds carry the scents of the bush, wood and the earth. Needless to say, the aroma of food being cooked on open fires also made its way through my window. Another delicious delicacy wrapped in teak tree leaves appeared in my hand. And then in my mouth. My fingers found themselves smothered in bits of sticky rice with coconut paste and boiled beans, sprinkled with crispy fried onion and grated coconut flesh. Yet again I was exploring the world through my stomach.

 

Tonbo village is nestled along the banks of the Irrawaddy. The starting point of the boat trips to Akauk Taung Pagoda and statues, it is home to the many beautiful people, including children, who are vendors and tour guides. Each person with whom we interacted, was friendly, helpful and kind. The people of Myanmar crept into my heart that day. As they did every day throughout my years spent there. Two very young boys ran up to us, smiles huge and generous. They politely sold us our tickets for the boat ride. Our guides for the trip. A sadness crept into my heart. Should they not be in school I wondered. Possibly school was not an option.

As always, local markets hold a fascination for me. Not necessarily from the shopping aspect. It’s about the people. Their faces. Their attitudes. Their connections with one another. The heat of the day soared. Hats were in order. And so it was, within minutes, we left the market equipped with elaborate sunhats. The insanely steep stairs, and dozens of them, presented challenges for me as I was recovering from knee surgery. Twenty young fingers gripped my elbows and guided me safely. Whilst in their grip, the boys chatted non-stop, using the few phrases they knew in English. 

Clambering onto the simple wooden boat, I was once more in awe of where I was. Forever grateful to what Life has shared with me. Sailing along the Irrawaddy. The intense Myanmar heat reflecting off the green waters. The boys eagerly told of the history behind the statues. From the mid-19th century, Customs Hill  (Akauk Taung), as it was known in English, served as a taxation point on the river. All passing boats needed to pay a levy. Often, due to poor weather conditions, the boats were delayed here for long periods. In order to pass the time, the crews developed a tradition of carving Buddhas on the cliffs. It has also been said that the tax collectors themselves, whilst waiting for boats, carved the statues of reclining and meditating Buddhas.

As the magnificent scene appeared before us, each one of us fell into a state of silence. Along the rock face, a series of carvings presented themselves to us. Each one safely embedded in their own space. There were dozens upon dozens of extraordinary statues. The collection was extensive. Nobody knows how many statues there are as many remain covered by vegetation. We sailed past the Akauk Taung Pagoda. My knee was not about to tackle several hundred steep stairs. I was content to view the impressive sights from the boat. Besides our young tour guides were clearly exhausted. 

En route home to Pyay, the heat intensified. Local cuisine, under huge trees on the banks of the river, filled our bellies. The juice of freshly squeezed sugar cane quenched our thirsts. Simplicity and the small pleasures of life in abundance.

That evening we stopped to appreciate the sunset over the Irrawaddy. It was a time for reflection. A time to stop and be in the moment. I was reminded of how much I loved my life in Myanmar. It was uncomplicated. Yet so rich and diverse.

To be continued …