From our hotel, we made our way by foot to the main hub where all the boats were docked; the daunting task of negotiating began. It was the Thingyan (Water) Festival and so we already knew prices would be double – at least. After rejecting a few scammers overly earnest boat operators, we managed to strike a deal with a friendly but stern woman at a reasonable price of 30,000 kyats for the two of us.

All the wooden boats flanking the stairs leading to the water were more or less identical and all shared one odd commonality – plastic chairs set in a row to accommodate passengers. We had met a couple the day before and I was happy it was only the four of us sharing the boat covered in swatches of chipped paint which had probably seen better days. The sun was blazing hot but the young man steering the boat was thoughtful enough to lend us much needed umbrellas to shield us from the ruthless rays. Settling in my wobbly plastic chair, I was eager to finally see the Lake so famous not only among foreign travelers but also among the Burmese who had come from all corners of the country. Alongside the ancient city of Bagan, Inle Lake is Myanmar’s most popular attraction.

After only a few minutes gliding along the river, I already knew I would enjoy this ride.

We drifted away from town bopping on the ripples of other boats passing by, leaving behind the dusty town of Nyaung Shwe. Our little boat picked up speed until we reached the vast openness of Inle Lake – and what a lake it was! I shifted left and right in my plastic chair, mouth agape, trying to capture the splendorous 360-degree view. The mountains were barely visible, hidden ever so slightly behind a hazy veil. I was transfixed by the sheer natural beauty that lay before me – it was like being in a misty dream. Inle Lake was much bigger than I anticipated and much more beautiful.

Not wanting to follow the usual designated route, we signaled to the young man steering the boat to dock by a small group of stilted houses – he kindly obliged. Normally, the area was immersed in water but since it was the dry season, a small path revealed itself. As I approached the houses, children filled with curiosity peeped out the windowless frames, giggling and ducking back inside as soon as I said hello. One young girl came up to me and in a barely audible voice told me she spoke English. I thought how wonderful it was that she spoke the most international of all languages! In a country where opportunities (and resources) were limited, I hoped her nearly-perfect English would offer her a bright(er) future.

My eyes then shifted to an elderly woman dressed in a traditional longyi (wrap-around cloth skirt). Sitting on her hind on a porch with the corners of her mouth slightly turned upwards, she looked in amusement at the four strangers. The labyrinthine lines on her face told tales of many years past. She and I couldn’t communicate verbally as we didn’t speak the same language but we greeted each other with a smile – hers filled with wisdom, mine with curiosity. The young girl who spoke English was more than happy to act as our translator. With evident pride shining through her glossy eyes, the elderly woman said she was 86 years old. I gestured asking if I could take a picture of her and she gently nodded her head in affirmation. I wanted to capture the life, literally, that has been the imprint of Inle Lake for hundreds of years – long before tourists started flocking here.

Back in my plastic chair on the boat, I sat contentedly – my much-anticipated visit to Inle Lake was off to a great start! The young man revved up the engine and off we were sputtering away, once again, on the murky waters of the lake. After only a few minutes, we slowed down as we approached an expansive field of green. This lush vegetation was not only quite pretty but served a very useful purpose. The fields were, in fact, floating gardens where fruits and vegetables grew in abundance on the surface of the water. Local farmers created floating beds by using weeds from the bottom of the lake which are then held together with bamboo sticks. The floating gardens are extremely fertile; we were told that all the tomatoes consumed in Myanmar were cultivated on Inle Lake!

Next up, we headed towards the center of the floating village where lots of locals on boats just like ours were buzzing around like a swarm of bees – some running errands, others simply going about their day. Though it wasn’t the first time I had seen stilted houses on water, I was, nonetheless, impressed at how they were built, precariously balanced on seemingly unstable wooden posts, dangerously vulnerable to any environmental change. As we sped along in and around the center of the water village, I really enjoyed simply watching everyday life unfold, one raucous boat at a time, on Inle Lake!

If you’re planning on going to Myanmar, know that there are A LOT of pagodas, temples and stupas scattered all over the country and, guess what?, Inle Lake was no exception. The most popular one is Phaung Daw Oo Pagoda where hundreds of Buddhist worshippers gather to see five ancient Buddhas covered in gold leaves. But don’t expect to see any actual Buddha images – well at least not the usual ones. All five sacred Buddhas have been covered in so many layers of gold leaves over the years that they now only look like characterless humps – I shook my head in disbelief and thought how odd!

Pictures are allowed but, as in all of Myanmar, only men (including foreigners) are allowed to approach the Buddha images and to place gold leaves.

Insider tip: Phaung Daw Oo Pagoda is a huge complex with nearly half of it lined with stalls and vendors including an elaborate market inside part of the pagoda (where you can buy souvenirs). There’s also a restaurant at the back where you can have a snack or meal and purchase some beverages.

Interesting fact: Next to the pagoda is housed a large barge in the form of an exquisite bird also covered in gold leaves (because the Burmese love their gold). Once a year a big festival occurs when four revered Buddha images are levered on the barge which then journeys around the villages on Inle Lake for a duration of 18 days. That must be quite a sight to see but I was there in April and the festival takes place in October. Boo-hoo.

By this time, I was getting a little impatient to go to the place I had long bookmarked for my trip to Inle Lake: a visit to see the Kayan women. The Kayan women are known for their unusual attire consisting of heavy bronze coils placed around their necks to give an elongated illusion. The massive coils are also worn around their ankles all the way up to their knees. The final result is quite unusual!

Kayan women are hired in handicraft shops to make woven textiles but the main purpose of their presence is mostly to attract curious tourists such as myself. Some argue that this is ethically wrong but before you point your finger accusing me of exploiting the Kayan women and treating them like a tourist attraction, here’s what I posted on my Facebook page in regards to taking a picture with them:

I wondered how these lovely women felt – perhaps their subtle smiles revealed a slice of joy to have met (yet another) foreigner. Perhaps they took pride in being photographed (yet again).

Perhaps not.

I left a trail of guilt behind me and got back on the boat for a short traverse to the other side of the narrow river. A beautiful pagoda (Aung Mingalar) dotted the bank with several stupas with their glittering gold tips glaring in the sun. Wandering around blissfully, I peeked into the hollowed out shrines, catching sight of several beautiful Buddha images. All were clothed in gold leaves but each had a different facial expression emanating a peaceful aura – it was just what I needed to relieve myself of the guilt that had settled on my conscience.

Away from the throngs of tourist-filled boats, the only other people at Aung Mingalar were a handful of pious villagers – the silence was wonderfully humbling.

Alas, the sun was slowly shying away behind the mountains – a cue to end our day. Under a sky drenched in the prettiest pastel colors – lavender, pink and plum – I let myself sink into the fleeing moment, breathing in deeply as if filling my lungs with memories, vividly aware that the dream was over.

Read all about my travels in Myanmar!

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