Myanmar, without a doubt, was one of the most interesting places I have visited. Apart from the beauty of the countryside and omnipresent temples, the wonderful people make this place unforgettable. In this series of articles, I share five short stories of small acts of kindness to give an insight into the heart of the Burmese people.

Here, You Take My Sandals

Rain Rain Go Away

The first 13 months of The Happy Nomad Tour were wet. I somehow managed to hit the rainy season everywhere in Latin America and then the same in Southeast Asia. The rainy season was my shadow. It wasn’t until I got to Nepal that I could take my poncho and umbrella out of my backpack.

While taking my tour of Inle Lake by boat, it started to rain.. a lot. It hadn’t rained there in months. The leaves on the trees had a measureable layer of dust on them. It’s the middle of dry season and there shouldn’t have been any rain for months. But such is my luck.

The Temple

At one point the boat driver stopped at a beautiful temple. It wasn’t raining at that point and the sky looked like it was clearing up. I left my shoes on the boat since shoes and socks are never allowed inside temples.

I went inside and explored a bit. Fifteen minutes later I returned and found my boat driver. All of a sudden it started raining really, really hard. It was like monsoon rain for about a minute, then moderate rain for several more minutes.

I hid under the protective covering of the temple walkway, and the boat driver paddled my way wearing his poncho.

Unfortunately, my shoes were soaked.

Later on in the day it was sunny at times and I did my best to get my shoes and socks in the sunlight.

Drying My Shoes And Socks

At 6pm I had my night bus back to Yangon. Buses often overuse the air conditioning and everyone freezes. I’m always cold as it is, so I’m particularly susceptible to freezing. I decided it would be best to pack my shoes in a bag and wear my foot gloves for the journey. They have the added benefit of being warmer than my regular shoes.

The bad thing is that I knew my wet shoes would stink after a night in that bag. I didn’t have much of a choice though. I figured I could stick them in the sun all day in Yangon and they’d be fine.

When I got to Yangon the hotel said that they could wash the shoes for me if I wanted. They’d be ready at 8pm. Hmm.. It was tempting to get them washed. But I feared they wouldn’t be dry and I had a flight in 24 hours.

In the end, I had them washed and as I suspected, at 8pm I was given a wet pair of shoes. Yangon was uncharacteristically cloudy all day and the shoes didn’t dry well outside. At first I was angry, but I accepted the situation. I stuffed them with toilet paper and put them outside to dry overnight and catch the first glimpses of sun in the morning.

My Foot Gloves

Before the shoes came back, I left the hotel in my glove shoes to go get some dinner. There was a Thai restaurant next door and due to the night bus I was too tired to venture out far for dinner. I had almost reached the restaurant when I heard someone running toward me from behind.

It was the owner of the hotel. He was barefoot and had a pair of flip flops in his hand.

I’ll never forget what he said next: “Your shoes come back 8pm. Here, you take my sandals. No problem.”

You see, this is Myanmar. He had never seen a pair of shoes as ridiculous as the ones I was wearing. He thought they were socks and wanted to spare me the discomfort of walking barefoot on the stone-laden street.

It was one of those moments when you swell up with emotion. I didn’t feel like crying. I don’t have kids, but maybe it’s like when your kid brings you home something made in school that you know was an assignment, but nevertheless treasure for the love it conveys.

This was a fantastic gesture and I’m not sure I could have picked a better story to end my time in Myanmar. I didn’t accept his sandals and I showed him that I was in fact wearing shoes, alien as they may be.

I didn’t get a chance to walk a mile in his shoes. But I hope by sharing these stories and experiences from Myanmar, mundane as they may have been at times, you got to walk a mile in my shoes and see what a fantastically beautiful people the Burmese are.

While in Latin America a funny thing happened. The more I traveled, the more I enjoyed it. Peru exemplifies this, as my 2.5 months there were some of the best in my time in Latin America.

Although Peru is a wonderful, amazing place, another thing was at play: language. By the time I got to Peru my Spanish was finally at a level where I could have regular conversation on a wide range of topics.

Sadly, as soon as I reached this relative level of fluency I left for Asia.

Burmese Woman In A Market

In Asia I’ve been fully dependent on friends and others to translate what’s going on around me when appropriate. For the most part, I can’t talk to many people here. Even in India, a country with English as its national language, more times than I can count I needed help and couldn’t find anyone who spoke English.

A Lady On Inle Lake

I haven’t pitied the fact that I know no local languages too much in Asia, though it would have been nice at the Buddhist Temple in Thailand.

Myanmar was a different case though.

With A Kaya Woman

The people in Myanmar were so nice, so friendly, and so interesting. On too many occasions I found myself making a small comment to a local person who didn’t speak English, but my unintelligible comment still elicited a smile from them. There was so much I was curious about, so many interesting-looking people I wished I could have spoken to.

Making Friends With My Bike Rickshaw Driver

Still, this trip is about forging human bonds and connections. Not having many interactions with the always-smiling Burmese people hurt more than I would have thought. But as I just said, the people were always smiling and sometimes that’s the best form of communication.

Always Smiling

What does freedom mean to you?

It’s a tough question. When I was younger I think my answer would have been much more skewed to the financial aspects of life. Back when I had my first job in the corporate world, an intern at GE Appliances in Louisville, Kentucky, I thought I had it all figured out: graduate, get a job, buy a house with a 15-year loan, pay it off as soon as I could, keep working, save, invest, and retire early to enjoy life.

At The William Wallace Monument In Stirling, Scotland In 2005

Thankfully I didn’t take that path but I don’t blame 20-year-old Adam for thinking like that. Despite associating freedom almost exclusively with financial freedom, I intuitively knew there was more to it than that. (Of course there is the whole living in a free society thing, but I was a teenager and ignorant/unaware that so many around the world don’t live in free societies – or societies that offer the illusion of freedom.)

In high school I saw the movie Braveheart. It instantly became my favorite movie, combining two romantic ideals that tugged at my heartstrings – love and freedom. William Wallace wasn’t striving for financial freedom though, and I understood freedom was far more complex than my simplistic teenage view of it. Maybe a simple definition of freedom that I can offer today is “being able to pursue happiness.” Being empowered to pursue happiness is even better.

What I want out of life now as 30-year-old Adam is so much more. Since then I’ve discarded depression, earned a lot of money working at jobs I didn’t like, realized that a high income has no bearing on my happiness, took the plunge, discovered the power within, volunteered a ton, and found happiness.

The financial side of things is more a thorn in my side than anything else – a game I have to play to exist in the modern world. Financial freedom is one of the last keys to achieve my version of freedom.

Until now I have always had my dwindling savings on my mind, but I was focused on other things. In Latin America it was learning Spanish and volunteering, in Southeast Asia it was looking inward and connecting with the universe. In South Asia..I’m still trying to figure it out to be honest, but I think it was a test of will, perhaps a reminder why I’m dedicating my life to serving others. As I have searched within to figure out how to combine my interests, passions, and skills to make money in a responsible way to continue living life on my terms, it hasn’t been easy and by all means I haven’t figured it all out yet.

But I’m close!

I read this book, The $100 Startup: Reinvent the Way You Make a Living, Do What You Love, and Create a New Future, by Chris Guillebeau on the recommendation of a friend. In all honesty, had his previous book not inspired me so much I probably wouldn’t have read it. But with his previous book being part of my transformation from corporate tool to nomadic idealist, I was powerless to resist.

I have an MBA and I really worked hard and spent a lot of money to get it. But in some ways I feel like an MBA can stifle entrepreneurship even if it’s one of the core elements of every program. It’s easy to get lost in the theory and not really see the connection between what you study and how you can become an entrepreneur yourself..

That’s the beauty of the premise of this book.

How This Book Can Help You

The starting point is to think about how you can help or be useful for others. Build a business around that, with the foundation being that skill, ability, or innovation you have. There are dozens of stories of ordinary people living out their dreams and few books about entrepreneurship could cast a net so wide as to be relevant for so many.

Another element of the book that fits so well with me is that it’s about people who have built small, sustainable businesses. Although some businesses have become multi-million dollar businesses that required hiring employees, many are one-person operations. As someone who strives to keep life as simple as possible, this is exactly what I would like to do. In an ideal situation, I’d work part-time and travel full-time continuing to explore life and happiness around the world.

More than anything, this book is quite empowering and full of useful resources to help you get started and inspired. For example:

1. All stories feature entrepreneurs who earn at least $50,000 annually from their business
2. All had less than $1000 in startup costs, the median being about $400
3. No special skills required (meaning there are no doctors or dentists or something like that)
4. There are many worksheets to help you get started in planning your own business, and exercises to make you think about how you can align your passion, purpose, and business sense to create a sustainable living
5. Helpful guides and stories in going from idea to business to expansion (if you want to expand, but somtimes it’s best to stay small)
6. There are antidotes to “I’m not an entrepreneur” thinking, with people accidentally creating businesses by stumbling upon value everyone else has missed

I don’t regret doing an MBA. It’s a great degree and I learned a lot. I just don’t have any interest in doing the corporate thing and thus I don’t use my degree very much. This book, on the other hand, really helps you get a practical view of how microbusiness and entrepreneurship works. It’s not as scary as it seems. It’s what humans have generally done throughout history, but have shied away from in the era of gigantic conglomerates. With such low startup costs and so much opportunity out there… why wouldn’t you?

What’s The Worst That Could Happen?

In my case, I asked myself what the worst thing that could happen is and I couldn’t come up with anything scarier than meditating with pythons or getting assaulted in Colombia during a robbery or feeling like I’d die in an Indian train’s bathroom.

Feeling Free In Ecuador

So, the start of another adventure – making my life financially sustainable so I can continue being free to live life on my terms and dedicate my life to serving humanity. I hope in sharing a piece of my own transformation-in-progress you’ll also find financial freedom, no doubt a component in your own pursuit of happiness.

As for what I’ll be doing, stay tuned for a few weeks and I’ll make an announcement later. If you’ve already read this book, feel free to leave a comment below with your opinion!

As Afa, the beautiful Jack Russell I’m blessed to be living with here in Cyprus, barked and barked at this cat, I couldn’t help but think about how we humans do the same thing.

Afa Barking At A Cat

I highlighted the cat in the picture, but it’s still barely visible. In real life I had a hard time finding the cat as well.

For me, this cat represents the abundant worry we have in our lives. There is always something to worry about. What we worry about may change over time, but worry remains a constant throughout our lives. Though we may look back in time and laugh at what once occupied so much of our worry, it doesn’t make what we worry about at present any less daunting.

However, as the image above shows, all too often we worry about things on the periphery, far removed from our daily life. Here are some tips for dealing with worries.

1. Ask yourself if your worry is really worth worrying about today
   • If it is, acknowledge the worry and file it away for when you can take care of it. Maybe even write it down so you don’t worry about forgetting it.
   • If it isn’t worth worrying about, discard it. Again, maybe even write it down on a piece of paper and throw it away.
2. Worry is an innate instinct. It has helped us survive and thrive this long as a species. But with bears, bacteria, and battle not a threat for most of us in our daily lives, it manifests itself differently. Being conscious of this helps to dismiss worries, realizing that there is a part of your brain designed to keep you alive but it’s starved for real threats.
3. Don’t give your worries your energy and time. Modern life is already draining enough as it is. Letting worries suck any more precious energy out of you leaves you vulnerable. Don’t do it. Say “No” in your head even.
4. Ask yourself “What if?” What is the worst that could happen if what you are worrying about comes true. If you can live with it, then no need to worry about it.
5. Share. Many of your worries are probably irrational. Sometimes it helps to share them with others so they can give you a dose of reality.
6. Worry often results from fearing an inability to overcome a challenge. If you change your attitude a bit to welcome challenges, and believe that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, you can convert rational worries to challenges that then motivate you.
7. Exercise. It just helps.

The most important point above is being conscious of your worry, realizing that it’s an invading entity in what should otherwise be a tranquil and balanced state of mind. Once you realize it’s there, you can take the steps necessary to overcome it.

Do you have other tips? Feel free to share them in the comments below!

Myanmar, without a doubt, was one of the most interesting places I have visited. Apart from the beauty of the countryside and omnipresent temples, the wonderful people make this place unforgettable. In this series of articles, I share five short stories of small acts of kindness to give an insight into the heart of the Burmese people.

Don’t Worry, I Will Help You

Ready To Explore!

One thing I read online is that you should inspect your bike well before departing on such an adventure. Much of the road is unpaved and getting a flat tire would basically ruin your day. One of my bike’s tires was bent, but it seemed ok. At one point I thought I got a flat since it was so hard to pedal, but I just didn’t realize that I was going uphill. I was tired from not sleeping at all on the bus the night before.

I stopped at the so-called hot springs and had some juice and took a break. The hot springs are really just two pools set in a rustic environment and I didn’t feel like paying $8 to go for a swim.

From there I took a boat to cross the lake to the other side and make my way to a winery, then back to where I was staying. I had about 6mi/10km of peddling to go.

Crossing The Lake

About 1mi/1.6km into the journey, the road was closed for repairs and a detour took you through a somewhat sandy road. I had to switch gears quickly to the lowest gear. The combination of me peddling fast and switching too many gears at the same time knocked the chain right off.

When I lived in Denmark I bought a bike. It was my main form of transportation there. I bought the cheapest one I could find and the chain would fall off about once or twice per week. I went to a hardware store and bought plastic gloves so I could put it back on without showing up to work with greasy hands.

I had no plastic gloves on hand, but when I stopped in the shade I did go looking through my backpack for a packaged wet napkin I had kept from a bus ride several months earlier in Vietnam. I got it ready so I couldn’t have to dig through my bag with nasty hands.

Before I could find the packaged wet napkin, a local guy had started fixing my bike! I didn’t even see or hear him coming!

Fixing My Bike

He had a different technique to get the chain back on than I would have tried. The problem was that the chain was protected in the front and back by a guard, which made it difficult to get the chain to cooperate. It would also have been very difficult to put the chain in place and pedal at the same time.

But no problem, another local guy came over to help! He lifted the back tire and pedaled when asked to do so. I stood there worthless, in awe of the generosity on display. I took these pictures.

Fixing My Bike

It took them about five minutes and the first guy resorted to using a stick to push the chain up onto the gears. It worked.

I was so thankful these guys helped I can’t even put it into words. At the end I put my hands together in front of my chest and said thank you. They didn’t speak English, but they understood what I was trying to convey.

I handed them the wet napkin I had retrieved earlier. It was literally the least I could offer them. They smiled and refused. I don’t know if they refused because they didn’t want to take anything from me, or because wiping your hands with a wet napkin isn’t the most manly thing in the world to do. I think it was the former though. I had to force them to take it.

I said thank you several more times and rode off down the dirt road to the winery. It might be an exaggeration to say that these guys saved my day. I probably would have been able to get the chain back on myself, though I’m not sure.

But there’s no denying that these guys made my day all the more enjoyable. I couldn’t help but think “This is what humanity should be like – people helping people with no agenda and with no expectation of anything in return.” I found my thought ironic given how brutal the military dictatorship has been in Myanmar, in many ways representing the worst of humanity. Quite a contrast.

On my first day at Inle Lake it was too late to take a boat tour of the city. Instead I rented a bike and cycled around the outskirts of the town.

I had a destination in mind, but at one point I decided to cycle down an unpaved road to see where it led. There was a school, some traditional Burmese housing, and lots of nature.

As I headed back to the main road I stopped to appreciate this scene. The mountains are beautiful, but what I noticed was the tall red tree. It was completely out of place!

Different Is Beautiful

First, the tree is too tall compared to its surroundings. Second, I didn’t see any other red trees like this anywhere in Myanmar. It could be that they are rare, or it could be that I wasn’t paying attention (more likely). But for whatever reason I did pay attention at this moment and it made me think a bit.

It made me think a lot actually. As my thoughts drifted, I realized I found the scene beautiful because the tree was different and how much that added to the overall picture. Without it, this would still be a beautiful scene but it wouldn’t be the same.

And, of course, this has its parallel in life. One constant in my trip is the social pressure everywhere to conform to certain societal standards. The severity of the pressure depends on each place, but I can say without a doubt that India is the worst in this respect.

On a planet with 7 billion people, each of us is unique and special in our own ways. For whatever reason, whether it’s marking or the celebrity culture, we’re constantly told we’re not good enough or not special.

If the tree in this picture subscribed to this philosophy, it never would have grown so tall. It would have stopped at the same level as the other trees to minimize being noticed. Instead, thankfully, the tree grew to its full height, reached its full potential, and adds way more beauty to the scene as a result.

Life is one big scene and we all have the ability to add beauty to it. Instead of focusing on how to be like everyone else, focus on embracing who you are. I can promise it’ll help you reach your full potential and by extension you’ll add more beauty than you ever thought imaginable. And maybe you sticking out among the crowd will even inspire others to do the same.

In the end, it’s ok to be different. It’s how we beautify this experience called life. So please, go off and be beautiful!

Maybe I had morbid friends, but this was a question I got a lot in high school and college. I think the first time I was asked I didn’t have an answer. It wasn’t something I thought about. But as time went on I did have an answer: ending up alone in life.

Yes, being a shy introvert in a world designed for extroverts, a guy who guarded his emotions like they were gold in Fort Knox, and a guy with an abysmal record with the ladies, it was a fair worry to have. What if I don’t find someone to share my misery with?

Scary.

As my 20′s continued and no solution to my worst fear was in sight, something crazy happened. I started the Happiness Plunge process. I started looking in the mirror trying to figure out the person staring back at me. I started asking myself the questions I had always avoided up until that point. I started understanding myself and things began to change.

What was once a fear became an asset

As I crept closer and closer to the edge of that proverbial cliff, ready to take the plunge into what I now call The Happy Nomad Tour, but at the time was a collection of ideas written on paper, I discovered that what was once a fear became an asset – something to be grateful for.

I was single. I could do whatever I wanted with my life without consulting anyone else. I was free. I had almost no responsibilities. I was empowered to pursue my dream!

You could argue that if I were married or in a relationship that maybe I still could have taken the plunge. Maybe she would have come with me, etc. It’s all valid. But the point is that for the first time in my life I stared down my worst fear and realized it was not only an artificial construct in my mind, it wasn’t all that scary. In finding myself I no longer felt lonely.

Now that I’m doing what I want to be doing with my life, that I’m happy and optimistic, I am not looking to share my misery with someone. I don’t really have any misery to offer. Instead, I’m quite happy with my single and “alone” status. I’ve found happiness within myself whereas before I was looking for it in other people. If I meet someone similarly happy and content, who makes me happier and brings new joy to my life, then I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life with her and maybe even multiply our awesomeness in the form of children. But I’m not actively looking for that. Instead, I’m quite content with the level of happiness I’ve achieved on my own given where I came from. I’m focused on growing that happiness, contributing to society in a positive way, and being the best happy nomad I can be.

I share this story because all too often we have irrational fears that guide our lives down unnecessary and unhealthy paths. In my old way of thinking the only way to conquer this fear would have been to find a wife. By opening my mind and challenging myself, not just with regard to this but with regard to everything, I saw my greatest fear in a new light. I saw it for what it was – a giant waste of time and energy. I saw how it changed me, how it prevented me from really seeing who I was when I stared at myself in the mirror. I recognized the power fear can have and overcame it.

Today if someone asked me what my greatest fear is I think I’d be back to square one, not really knowing as I haven’t given it much thought. I guess it would be something like not achieving all I want to in life. I can live with that as my greatest fear though.

I took a night bus from Mandalay to Inle Lake. I thought the bus would arrive at 6am. Instead, it arrived at 3am. This bus ride was the worst in my time in Myanmar and I got no sleep at all.

After getting off the bus It was just me and two Chinese tourists. We shared a taxi to town. The guy kept telling us that all the hotels were full, but we kept trying nevertheless. It turns out he was right, literally every place in town was full.

I read that in Myanmar, like in most Buddhist places, you can sleep at temples if all else fails. Unfortunately, to avoid abuse and to offset the cost of the nightly barrage of homeless tourists, the temple in town charges 6000 Kyat/$7 for their basic accommodations.

The Temple’s Entrance

To be honest, I would have paid more. It was really, really cold. It’s hard to estimate, but for sure it was below 10C/50F. I also think that most if not all the money paid goes to the people who maintain the accommodations area in the temple.

The accommodation was essentially one long wooden pallet. A thin blanket is placed over the wood and a pillow is provided. Blankets to keep you warm are provided and girls are given a thin mattress to sleep on. I put a shirt on top of the pillow like I did at the Golden Temple and used my sleeping bag insert as neither are probably washed often.

It was about 4am by the time I got all settled in and brushed my teeth. I fell asleep and woke up at about 8:15am. By any measure it wasn’t much sleep, but I woke up feeling great!

I was the first of the tourists to wake up. I went to the bathroom, got my things, and took a bicycle rickshaw to where I had a reservation for the evening.

As I was leaving, two kids entered the temple and one gave me this piece of paper. They didn’t speak English, so I didn’t have any idea of what was going on. But we were all laughing, which is the most important thing. I later asked what they wrote on the paper and was told it was some kind of action hero they had invented.

The Action Hero

The Kids Laughing

During the day it occurred to me that for other people, what I just experienced would have been a nightmare. It was so cold, the “bed” was so hard, the sheets were probably dirty, etc. It might have been the crazy story they talked about after their trip to Myanmar.

For me it shows the wonderful hospitality of the Burmese and the monks in general. In the morning I went inside the temple and saw a monk. He greeted me with a smile and offered to show me where I could sleep, not realizing I had slept there the night before. He asked me if I had a comfortable night and I assured him it was perfect.

This is kind of what life is all about:

1. You hit a roadblock. In my case I was freezing and no hotels were available.
2. You don’t get angry or nervous or upset. You go with the flow.
3. Some opportunity presents itself.
4. Everything works out one way or another.
5. You feel grateful.
6. If you’re lucky, then this cycle repeats.

I thank the Burmese monks for their hospitality and below are some pictures.

Leg Paddling On Inle Lake

Inle Lake. I think that in the future my memory of Myanmar will be from the day spent on this lake.

I’m sure there are other lake communities like it out there, with houses on raised stilts, markets floating on the water, and a people who literally live off the lake. The community I volunteered with in Laos was similar. There are many species of plant and fish unique to Inle Lake, but the most unique part of the lake is how the men paddle. Due to the high brush in parts of the lake, the locals have learned how to hold the paddle in their foot. This allows them to paddle while seeing over the brush, and it makes for an amazing sight for the uninitiated.

Unfortunately, the tour of the lake is one of the biggest tourist traps in Myanmar. You spend a day seeing amazing things like floating/normal markets, temples, and a completely different way of life. But the boat driver has another incentive – taking you to stores. I am not sure if the driver receives a commission based on what you purchase, but for sure they receive a payment for bringing you to the store.

It’s not all that bad. I visited a tobacco workshop, silk clothing workshop, umbrella workshop, gold/silver workshop and some more I have forgotten.

Unfortunately, it rained almost the whole day I was on the lake. By no means was it supposed to be raining there in late-January. It’s exactly in the middle of dry season. Such is my luck. It wasn’t bad, but my shoes got completely soaked, which wasn’t convenient for my overnight bus that night.

Below are the pictures of this amazing place – First the market, then the rest. I hope you enjoy them!

The rest of the day on the lake:

Rarely do I find myself speechless, but that’s exactly how I felt after I saw this video. The wisdom this young man had, the purity of his love, and the impact he had on his community. It’s all so beautiful. Unfortunately he passed away last week, but his story lives on via the video below, the memories of his friends and family, and the music he has left us with.

Life is often so full of distractions that we never have time to figure it out. But in Zach’s case, despite his short life, it seems like he figured everything out.

If you’d like to contribute to Zach’s fund for osteosarcoma cancer research, click here.

Myanmar, without a doubt, was one of the most interesting places I have visited. Apart from the beauty of the countryside and omnipresent temples, the wonderful people make this place unforgettable. In this series of articles, I share five short stories of small acts of kindness to give an insight into the heart of the Burmese people.

I’m Not A Piece Of Meat

Being a traveler can be difficult at times. In so many places I have been, I’ve often felt like a piece of meat – and everyone wants their pound of flesh. That is, people don’t see me as a person but rather as a vessel to extract money from. Sadly for them, I have no income and I’m pretty good at sniffing out those trying to rip me off. But still, I know I have been ripped off many times, though in small amounts.

Myanmar was the opposite. Only once was I overcharged for something, and it was at a store owned and operated by Indians. I bought a souvenir coin for my dad, a coin from the pre-military dictatorship times since he collects foreign money. They started at $30 and I left paying $9.40 for it. They said they were taking a loss, but wanted to start the day on a positive note with a sale. I’ve heard that story before and I’m sure I got ripped off.

Flies Circling Around Fresh Meat In Jaisalmer, India

But otherwise, no taxi, no bicycle rickshaw driver, no horse cart, no bus, no hotel, no restaurant, never was I overcharged. In Mandalay, one bicycle rickshaw driver charged me 1000 Kyat ($1.18) to cycle me about 15 blocks. It was the end of the day, I had walked so much in the heat, and just wanted to get back to where I was staying.

When we arrived to where I was staying, I gave him a 1000 Kyat bill, and then included 500 Kyat as a tip. Yes, 50% is a big tip, but it was a long ride (in my opinion), he did a good job, and I just wanted to make his day a bit better.

Immediately he refused it. He thought maybe I misunderstood the price he quoted me. I understood fully, but I wanted to tip him. It literally took two minutes of arguing (without a common language, of course) with him to make him accept his tip. I’m used to the opposite – arguing with the service provider to cut the quoted price in half because I know he or she is cheating me.

With The Cycle Rickshaw Driver

The people here don’t seem to think in dollars and cents (or kyat and pya). Money has its place, but it’s not the dominant force, not the official religion the way it is in the West. I don’t know how long this will last as Myanmar opens up more and more to foreign products, companies, investors, and “progress.” I hope it never changes, but we’ll see.

My Bed At The Buddhist Temple

One exception I found was staying at the Buddhist Monastery at Inlay Lake. I arrived on my night bus at 3am and all the hotels were full. The only place I could stay was the local monastery. To my surprise, they were charging 6000 Kyat/$7 up front to sleep there.

The accommodations were rustic, sleeping on a slab of wood, though girls were provided a foam pad to sleep on. For me it was worth paying just to get out of the cold. It was below 10C/50F outside and being inside was nice and warm. Being under covers and getting some sleep was a bonus.

I presume they started charging because people were abusing the monastery. Also, the guy running it is not a monk, so maybe he keeps half the revenue in exchange for opening the door at all hours of the night and keeping the place clean. I don’t know. But I’m 100% sure if you couldn’t afford to pay you could stay there for free.

While all of this sounds like your normal daily life – not being ripped off, etc., all I can say is that life on the road is a constant battle against people trying to take advantage of you. Myanmar was a ridiculously beautiful and amazing country on its own. The fact that people were honest was icing on the cake.

Something I often tell Indians is that karma may have been invented in India, but it’s practiced in the Buddhist countries of Southeast Asia – especially Myanmar.

The city of Mandalay itself doesn’t have too many tourist attractions. The royal palace is supposed to be amazing, but it’s a reconstruction. The original was destroyed in World War 2. It was also constructed using forced labor, so I didn’t visit. There is an important pagoda, said to be the second most important after Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon.

But the main attraction is the countryside. On my second day in Mandalay I rented a motorcycle and its driver to take me around to these nearby villages.

Sagaing

Sagaing is set in the hilly countryside outside of Mandalay. Here, you can climb up over 300 steps and get a 360-degree view of the pagoda-dotted landscape. At the top you can see the Irawaddy River as well as visit other nearby temples.

The clay pots filled with water is something you see throughout Myanmar. During my tour of Dharavi Slum in Bombay, they said a clay pot is like a poor man’s refrigerator. It keeps water cool and bacteria away. They just usually don’t have a designer cup attached!

Innwa Village

Innwa Village is largely preserved traditional village with some amazing sites to see. First, there is the Bagaya Monastery, still in use, made entirely of teak wood. There is the “Leaning Tower” of Innwa. Lastly, there is the Mahar Aung Mye Bonzan Monastery. Apart from these sites, you also get to see colorful village life.

Bagaya Monastery

Buying A Burmese Shirt

In between Innwa and Amarapura, the motorcycle driver stopped at a textiles factory. You can see how the clothes are made using cotton or silk, and then are invited to buy something. The driver gets some money regardless and it’s a common tactic in many places. I knew this would happen going in, and the boat ride on Inle Lake was far worse.

I got to try on traditional Burmese clothing like this shirt and the skirt-like longyi that men wear.

I really liked the traditional Burmese shirt and saw it as a good formal shirt to wear since I have none right now. It was a relatively expensive purchase on my side, but I think it looks nice.

Gold

A similar stop was made at a goldsmith’s workshop. There they take pure gold and create art out of it as well as golden leaves. These leaves are eaten as locals say it helps the stomach and digestion. But they are also used to give all the pagodas their golden color. They really are golden, applied one small leaf at a time by devotees. Below a few pictures and a video.

Amarapura Village

Amrapura has a 1.2km/4000ft long bridge made of teak wood. On the other side of the bridge is a village with several temples and religious structures. The main draw, however, is the impressive bridge and the beautiful sunset you can see from it every evening.

Conclusion

This was truly an incredible day full of stimulation for all my senses. The Burmese countryside is so, so beautiful, so green, and still cultivated using traditional methods. The people, as always, were so nice. I don’t know. It was just a wonderful day!

A Guy Of Many Different Colors

Yes, it’s a question I’ve received in every country so far. It seems people have a hard time believing I’m really “American,” whatever that means.

I won’t dive into the whole “American” controversy, where many in Latin America dislike that people from the U.S. call them selves Americans when everyone in the Western Hemisphere is technically American.

But staying in Latin America, I received this question the most there. Sometimes it came in strange ways, such as Colombian ladies looking surprised when I say I’m from the U.S. and them responding with “But you’re not a monkey.” Yes, the word mono in Spanish means monkey, but in Colombia they use that word to denote someone who is blond haired and blue eyed.

Apart from the fact that blue eyes are rapidly disappearing in the U.S., with only about 17% of the population today being born with them, and only 18% percent of Americans are naturally blond, it persists as a myth in many Latin American countries that Americans are tall, with blond hair and blue eyes.

It’s difficult for me not to get sarcastic when answering this question. In the end, the only original Americans are the Native Americans. Ironically I look more like them than I look like Lars from Norway, who fits the stereotype American mentioned before.

So, sometimes I answer saying as much, that no, I’m not a Native American. Sometimes I answer by saying “I’m as American as Obama,” whose mom was white and born and raised in the U.S. and his dad was from outside the U.S. This is my story too, only my dad immigrated to the U.S. permanently, didn’t abandon my family, and is from Pakistan instead of Kenya.

When I give either of these responses, I guess it is like throwing a wrench into their engine. Maybe people take it as a subtle scolding of their ignorance, as they see the ignorance in their question but wish I just would have played along and answered why I’m not white, not black, and surprisingly not Latino.

A small side note that I find quite sad is how little I actually know about the Native Americans in the U.S. What we learn in school is a very sanitized version of the truth. I learned a ton from reading the book 1491, but still. I find it unfortunate that I have spent more time with indigenous people in Mexico, Panama, Ecuador, Peru, and The Philippines, but never with the indigenous Native Americans in the U.S. But hopefully in time that will change.

And there is plenty of ignorance in my own country, throwing the word Latino around as if it actually described the ethnicity of people from Northern Mexico to the tip of South America. I was shocked to find an aisle of “Spanish food” at a local grocery store. Spanish food comes from Spain. They were selling Latin American food, and mostly Mexican food at that. Fabulous ignorance, unless of course people in the U.S. are actually eating English food since that’s the language we speak.

One of my favorite examples of busting the myth of what it is to be Latin is this wonderful music video. Though filmed just in Peru, it shows the many shades of color on people’s skin, the many faces of Latin America, and the varieties of landscapes and lifestyles. So yes, there is plenty of ignorance everywhere.

I digress. Part of being a nomad is being an ambassador to the places you visit from the places you’ve been before. I’ve squashed tons of stereotypes about the Arab world after living there. As I’ve traveled I’ve met people with all kinds of strange notions about that part of the world. And I have no problem doing that, perhaps because I too had to learn a lot once I arrived in the Middle East. One of my passions is teaching and I’m happy to impart what I’ve learned. Traveling is a fantastic teacher. Every traveler is a bridge between where he or she has been and where he or she is going. I think I just need a bit more patience .

Temple Name And Date

As I explored Bagan by bike, I was going to a particular temple next to the river. On my way I saw a beautiful temple and decided to stop for a minute to see it. I didn’t go inside but the sign said it was from the year 1215. Wow.

At the entrance there were two monks. They were taking pictures and had a video camera as well. I don’t know why but it seems like the monks here all have some serious technology gear. I thought it was just the young ones, but I saw it a bit among older monks as well. I don’t know what it’s all about.

At A Temple Entrance With A Monk

As they took pictures I patiently waited for them to finish so I could take my turn at the ideal spot to photograph the temple. Then, one of the monks called me over to get a picture together. It caught me by surprise, but it was nice. I got a picture with each monk and quickly discovered that neither one speaks English.

After the pictures, we bid each other adieu in the respectful way of clasping our hands in prayer and bowing toward each other.

I found the temple I was looking for and it was really nice. I decided to rest a bit as the sun was blaring down and I had been riding a bike all day after hardly any sleep on the bus the night before. While resting, the same monks came.

I’d say that in general, this might have motivated me to move on. We said our nice goodbye, I was done with the temple, and a subsequent interaction may be awkward.

But I didn’t move on.

I don’t know. Maybe it was my tiredness. Maybe it was because they were monks and embody calmness. Maybe I just felt that they were cool guys I wanted to spend more time with.

I don’t know.

After a little bit they saw me. It was all smiles. Once again, the monk motioned for me to come and join them. Who am I to refuse?

I sat down with them on a ledge overlooking the Irrawaddy River and we talked. When I say walk what I mean is that they knew about 50 words in English and I knew 0 words in Burmese. They told me their names, which I have since forgotten, regrettably, and that they were from Yangon.

Hanging Out With Some Monks

The conversation died pretty quickly. But I didn’t feel uncomfortable. I don’t think they did either. We just kind of sat there for what must have been 20-30 minutes. At times they’d talk to each other in Burmese, but knowing I didn’t understand what they were saying one monk would always tap me or grab my arm and smile to show they hadn’t forgotten me and they appreciated my company.

In my previous life, I never would have stuck around after seeing these two monks again. I would have avoided the slightest hint of social awkwardness. I might not have even stopped to rest as time would unproductively tick away.

That’s why I share this story.

As a nomad my relationship with time and life is not the same. Viewing time as a gift instead of a finite resources has given me the opportunity to have experiences like these. I respect time, but don’t obsess over it. It has freed me up to actually live life instead of being a slave to it.

In my inward quest to be a better human being and more at peace with myself, this experience was like a mile marker showing I am on the right track. As I mentioned in Vietnam, love is the only universal language. I don’t know if I’d describe this situation as love, but in a way it was – just some human beings enjoying life together in a positive way.

I don’t know what the future holds for my life, but I do know that I won’t really feel alive if it doesn’t have moments like this.

Myanmar, without a doubt, was one of the most interesting places I have visited. Apart from the beauty of the countryside and omnipresent temples, the wonderful people make this place unforgettable. In this series of articles, I share five short stories of small acts of kindness to give an insight into the heart of the Burmese people.

Don’t Worry, I Will Help You

As I stumbled out of my room at 7:30am, having spent more time than I would have liked in the bathroom the previous night purging from both ends, I found the strength to speak to the owner of my guest house.

The Guest House

“I’m not going to be able to make it to Mount Papo today. I’m very sick.” I gave him my ticket and told him if another foreigner wanted to go that morning, they could take my ticket.

I think my demeanor, the strained voice that showed how little energy I had, and the fact that I was supporting so much of my weight on the desk despite being seated, demonstrated  just how crappy I felt.

Don’t worry, I will help you.

They were only six words, and I’m no stranger to fending for myself while being deathly ill, but those six words were more comforting than you can imagine. Being 10,000 miles away from the loving care of my mom, this was the next best thing. I believe your mind/attitude plays a big role in your health. Those six words kind of marked hitting bottom with being sick and the hope it generated was probably the best medicine of all.

He told me the doctor was in at about 8:30am and he’d take me there when I was ready. I told him I’d go back to sleep and we’d go in a little bit.

At 9:30am I told him I was ready and he drove me to the doctor’s office. I thought he’d just drop me off since I didn’t know where the doctor’s office was. Now I knew – it was about half a mile down the same road as the guest house. He could have gone back, but he stayed there.

With The Doctor

I saw the doctor and then he drove me back to the guest house. I asked him if I could change my room. The room I had was perfect if I wasn’t sick ($8/night with bathroom outside and no hot water), but since I was sick I was willing to pay the $25 for a room with a private bathroom, hot water, and air conditioning. He made the arrangements even though the hotel is perpetually full.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get a picture with my angel in Bagan. I planned to later in the day or the following morning before leaving, but I never saw him again. I didn’t get his name either. It’s a pity, really.

But I’ll never forget him and I’m happy that his act of kindness will live on here.