Me, Myself and Myanmar: The e-Bike Incident

When you race after the sunrise on a motorbike, and it's very dark, and a pothole gets you sideways….you get yourself up, you keep going and you climb your way up the pagoda anyway.

Shwesandaw Pagoda, Bagan

There was a moment upon impact with the curb when I closed my eyes and held my breath bracing for what was going to happen next.  Soon I was skidding sideways on my e-Bike into the pavement at the side of the road. It must have been about 5:17 in the morning, well before sunrise.  The sky and the street surrounded me in a quiet darkness while my mind raced in thought.

“Thank God I’m wearing a helmet….”

“This is gonna be bad….”

“Frickn’ why didn’t I just take a tour arranged by my guesthouse?"

“Now I’ll have to be airlifted to Bangkok, if I'm still alive..."

Everything stopped. I exhaled and opened my eyes. I was lying on my side, my right hip wedged into the sidewalk, the seat of the e-Bike held underneath both of my shins. There was a throbbing pain pulsing through my body that originated in my right knee. I just wanted to curl up and lie there and for a moment I did exactly that, until an internal voice began to marinate within me, repeating like a mantra “You. Have. To. Get. Up!”

Finally I pushed myself up and staggered a few steps with the e-Bike, somewhat in shock, my vision blurred in tears.  Shivering, I sat on the seat and I slowly twisted my right wrist to power the motor forward.

"Where am I?  I don't even know how to find Shwesandaw pagoda and it's so dark," I thought as I rode slowly.  My e-Bike was the only vehicle on the road. In the near distance was a pagoda area that was lit, so I drove into the graveled entrance to try to get my bearings. "Ananda" the sign read. There were 2 guys on bicycles who had also pulled into the light of the same entrance.

"Hey, hello! Do you know the place to go for the sunrise?" One of the guys yelled, waving his arms towards me upon seeing me.

"Shwesandaw? I'm trying to find it too," I said.

"Where are you from?" he asked.

"U.S., from San Francisco, and you?"

"We are from China" he responded. "I think it's this way."

So I followed behind them in the dark, the headlights from my e-Bike providing light for the three of us as we took a turn down a dirt road.

We soon encountered large buses and a parking area teeming with people. This must be the spot, I thought looking up at the dark silhouette of a large pagoda.

Shwesandaw Pagoda just before sunrise

I climbed to the third and highest level of steep stairs, clinging to the railing with my right hand while holding my helmet and the flashlight from my phone in my left.

All of the levels were crowded with people sitting vigil for the sunrise. When I reached the top level, I leaned against the side of the pagoda and tried to catch my breath, while ignoring the enormous pain shooting up my right side.

I really didn't even get to see the actual sunrise. 

There were too many people to make my way to the side that had the best view.  I did meet an interesting group of tourists from Japan though. An older gentleman encouraged me to climb up the curved section of the pagoda to stand on a thin strip of ledge, as he had. What surprised me was that he was not surprised at all that we were communicating entirely in Japanese.

"I dunno, that looks dangerous," I replied.

As the sky began to fill with light, I turned to him and said "I don't think I should climb up there. I've had a bit of a rough morning."

I looked down at my knee. Actually it was the first time that I looked at it. I was mortified to notice that the patterns in my skirt were soaked in deep crimson colors and that my right knee was a bloody mound of flesh that was partially missing a layer of skin.

A First look at my knee and 2nd toe from Shwesandaw Pagoda....OUCH!

"Oh wow, are you okay?  You really need to take care of that...” he said, followed with "May I take your picture?", a question that in my current condition made me laugh.

"Sure, please....take my picture," I snickered, holding my helmet and managing to produce a genuine smile.  From the waist down, I probably looked like something out of a horror movie, but nonetheless I had made it to the top level of the pagoda.  

In the words of Myanmar’s own Aung Sang Suu Kyi, 

“Humor is one of the best ingredients of survival.” 

Fortunately, this picture was taken from the chest up. :-)

If you do go to Bagan and you rent an e-Bike, be sure to drive slowly and be very cautious.  It’s probably best as well to go out with at least one other person if you can, especially if you’re venturing out before sunrise. The times when I went to get medical dressings for my knee, every single person, including the doctor asked me “Did you fall off your e-Bike?”  

(Note: THIS HAPPENS OFTEN.)

“Why yes, I did.  I fell off my e-Bike...like a boss!”

Me, Myself and Myanmar: We are Changers

“Mr. Obama”, said with a nod.  This was the most popular response given when I’d tell people I was from the U.S.  For the most part, I made a point not to initiate conversations about politics in general, the history of the military regime or even the recent elections.  However, many people felt free to share with me their opinion and their excitement about the changes in the air.  This was especially the case with conversations that took place while riding within the confined space of a taxi.

 “The National League for Democracy won 80% of the vote!  It was a landslide! Aung Sang Suu Kyi, well because of the constitution she cannot be our official president, but she has said that she will lead everything if the NLD wins.  The NLD has won. Right now in Burma, there is a lot of change.  We can do it!  We are doing it. We….we are changers!”

Taxi driver on Pyay Road in Yangon

"My attitude to peace is rather based on the Burmese definition of peace - it really means removing all the negative factors that destroy peace in the world.  So peace does not mean just putting an end to violence or to war, but to all other factors that threaten peace, such as discrimination, such as inequality, poverty."

Aung Sang Suu Kyi

Aung Sang Suu Kyi T-Shirts being sold near Bogyoke Market in Yangon

Me, Myself and Myanmar: My Hair

Kyaiktiyo Pagoda Golden Rock

There are many tips provided in Lonely Planet and some of the other popular guide books that may not be applicable to you at all if you’re a person of color on the road, especially if you happen to be traveling in a country that’s predominately populated with people of color.  As a matter of fact, some of these ethnically irrelevant "tips" could be easily outlined and ridiculed within a separate blog dedicated to this topic.  Just sayin.

As a woman of African descent with spiraled dredlocs traveling throughout Myanmar, my hair was often a feature that drew such a genuine curiosity that I feel the need to share.  What follows below are just a few comments and questions about my hair.

“Very very pretty…”

“My younger brother, he likes your hair. You are my color.  How….but how did you make your hair this way?”

“Is this your original hair? It is very special.”

“Were you born with your hair this way?”

“Sooo before you twisted the hair, your hair was like mine right?”

“Your hair, beautiful!”

A young woman adorning my face in traditional thanaka cream, providing a cooling sensation to the skin and protection from sunburn.