MYANMAR IS WINE COUNTRY?

A vineyard worker near Inle Lake wields a large knife used for trimming vines...and for welcoming thirsty tourists. 

When you think of Sauvignon Blanc, Burma is probably not the first place that comes to mind. But if a few forward-thinking vintners have their way, someday it could be. 

The hilly area surrounding Inle Lake in northern Myanmar is said to be prime grape-growing territory, or so we heard often during our recent visit. While we rarely drink the stuff ourselves (ahem), we thought it worth investigating these claims for the benefit of our countless handful of readers. 

There are actually two vineyards in the vicinity of Inle Lake. Only one was close enough for an out of shape tourist (Liz) to reach by bicycle, so we opted to head to Red Mountain Estate Vineyards and Winery.  

Following a paved, winding road bordered by rice paddies, we reached the vineyard after a 20 minute ride from Nyaung Shwe, where we were staying. After passing the entrance gate, the road makes a steep climb to the top of a hill. 


The view from the top is impressive, with rolling, vine-covered hills, all the way to the lake. It certainly looked like a vineyard. 

Thirsty from the long ride from town, we went immediately to the tasting room, lest we risk dehydration from the heat and exertion. We sat down and perused the menu.

Because wine rarely passes our lips (ahem) we weren't sure which wine to order. So we decided to try them all. It was a good decision.

After the tasting, Naw Naw, our somellier offered to give us a tour of the grounds. We learned that globalization is alive and well in Myanmar. The wine maker comes from France, the vines came from France, Spain, and Israel, the oak barrels from Hungary, the Swiss-engineered equipment hails from Italy, the bottles from France and China, and the labels are designed right here in Myanmar. 

We're not sure how we remember the above statistics, as things got pretty unruly during a part of the tour. Lucky for us, Naw Naw is a very patient woman.

  

After purchasing a bottle for the bike ride home dinner later that evening, we headed  back down the hill.

The vineyard workers had just finished and were heading home, and the light was perfect, so we couldn't help but snap a few hundred photos. Here are some of our favorites, including another of our friend the knife-wielder. 

STAND UP PADDLING VIDEO

Our many readers (both of them...thanks Mom and Dad) have been asking what "Stand Up Paddling Burma-Style" actually looks like in action.  Miraculously, we happened to come across a video we took that shows the man himself (U Paw San, not Kip) in perfect form, effortlessly moving through the water.

He makes it look so easy. We can assure you, it is not. 

Background soundtrack is provided by the chanting monk from the monastery adjacent to the river.

Enjoy.

STAND UP PADDLING IN BURMA

What stand up paddling in Burma is supposed to look like.

Move over stand up paddle boarding--there’s a new sport in town. Pioneered decades ago by Burmese fisherman in the shallow, weed-filled waters of Inle Lake, this acrobatic style of stand-up paddling may soon knock “SUP” from its perch as the latest, greatest thing in water sports.

If you’re not familiar with the soon-to-be-outdated American version of SUP, there are plenty of photos of bikini-clad celebrities doing it on the internet. Basically, participants would stand atop an over-sized surfboard facing forward, then, slightly bent at the waist, they paddle the traditional way on either side of the board, balancing and steering as they go.

So simple, even a celebrity could do it.

The Burmese version of SUP, however, requires far more skill and agility. Plus, men usually wear skirts, so there’s that. 

Our nine-yr-old English student gives us a lesson.

Here, the locals stand on one leg balanced at the tip of their dugout canoes. From there, they begin to paddle with one arm and one leg, while at the same time doing a whole host of other things such as fishing, farming, collecting sea weed...you name it, they can do it, while balanced precariously on a spot most people wouldn't even be able to stand in. 

Using the calf and heel as both fulcrum and lever, they power the paddle with one leg while using an arm to help fine tune the motion for steering, speed and navigation. It's hard to explain on paper but it's poetry in motion to watch...when done right.

Naturally, we had to give it a shot ourselves. And who better to teach us than our adopted family, the U Paw San's?

While it took us quite a while to explain to them the concept of teaching someone to stand up paddle (even nine-year-olds can do it...it's not really something to be taught, they said), U Paw San's wife and daughter agreed to give us both a lesson. 

The results were initially less than stellar. Simply standing up in the canoe proved difficult. Kip fell in immediately, luckily only in a knee-deep rice paddy. But after a while, both he and Liz got the hang of it. Mostly.

Kip getting a lesson from U Paw San's patient wife.

Out of the rice paddy and into deeper waters. Still not at the tip of the boat though.

Graceful Liz picked it up pretty quickly.

Clumsy Kip needed another day's lesson.

On day 2, properly dressed in a traditional longyi, Kip finally gets the hang of things.  Having a laughing, somewhat terrified nine-yr-old tutor in the boat definitely helped. 

When the lessons were over and we'd dried our clothes from the splashing, we suggested that giving tourists stand up paddling lessons could be a booming new business opportunity. U Paw San said he was willing to give it a shot. 

Together, we put together some text in English to promote the stand up paddling lessons. The language will be used on a flyer and a large sign to let visitors know lessons are available for what may soon become the world's next big water sport. 

The ground work has been laid. Celebrities, you best get prepping. 

READING ENGLISH BY CANDLELIGHT

The best part of a visit to Myanmar is meeting the people who live here. Despite plenty of reasons to be less than happy, (rampant poverty and a life under a totalitarian government, to name two), the folks we've met have been some of the happiest, friendliest anywhere. 

On a bicycle ride through one of the local villages near Inle Lake, we met a man named U Paw San. He was walking with his nine-year old daughter along the shore. We said hello, he said hello. We were lost, as usual, so we asked U Paw where the dirt track we were on was headed. Luckily, he spoke some English. He gave us directions and then answered a few our inane questions about where to see birds, what time the sun sets, and if we were allowed to even be in his village.

The next thing we knew, he invited us to his house to meet the rest of his family and to have tea. It may sound somewhat abrupt, strangers getting asked into someone's home, but this quick hospitality happens often here. You start up a conversation with a local, and in two minutes, you're holding their baby or giving them high fives or having tea at their house.  

The most rewarding part for us came when his shy daughter finally started talking to us. Over hot tea, U Paw told us she was one of the top students in her English class at school, and she really wanted to practice. But she wasn't used to meeting strangers. 

By the second cup, and after much encouragement from her dad and mom, she brought her little backpack to a small table on the floor, pulled out her English workbook and started reading off a list of vegetables in English to Liz. There was no electricity in the house, which was built on wooden posts for flood protection, so we drank, read, and studied by candlelight. 

After about two hours of reading and talking, she decided to show us everything in her backpack. In addition to papers and well-used school books, the most interesting thing she showed us was her pencil sharpener--a small straight razor, which she was quite adept at using, much to her dad's delight. It's hard to imagine seeing 20 nine-year olds in class all whittling pencils with razor blades at the same time. 

Typical of Burmese hospitality, U Paw and family invited us to come back the next day. We couldn't say no, and we spent most of the day with them (more about that later), culminating in another candlelight English session over tea and rice cakes. As a bonus, the daughter taught us to count to 100 in Burmese. 


After spending so much time with the family and meeting so many neighbors in the village, we took some photos of everyone and printed them out as a thank you for adopting us temporarily. 

U Paw San's niece, face smeared with thanaka, came downstairs to read with us for a while. U Paw's parents and sister's family live upstairs in their two-room house. 

Mom holding MoMo, their youngest, surrounded by five young neighborhood boys.

Mom and son MoMo. They have four children total--three boys and a girl.

Liz playing "swing me" with a new friend. 

PHOTO FRIDAY: FARMERS PADDLING TO MARKET

Two female farmers paddle their harvest to one of the many daily markets located along the shores of Inle Lake in Myanmar.  We've seen hundreds of these boats on our trips out on the lake. Many are so loaded down with vegetables/fruit/rice/kids that the middle of the boat is often under water. This results in some lucky passenger squatting in the center bailing furiously with a small pail or their hands. 

These two ladies, however, clearly have their boat buoyancy under control.