Myanmar Goes Tourist
The people are warm, the sights spectacular. But be thankful you're not a dissenting citizen
Someone neglected to tell the soldiers in Yangon's Mingladon Airport that 1996 is "Visit Myanmar Year." Their penchant for inspecting luggage with the barrel of a semiautomatic rifle, or detaining travelers in a locked room, hardly constitutes a warm welcome. And the soldiers grin with a ferocity that for five decades has terrified millions of citizens, buttressed a repressive military regime and kept foreigners at bay. Of course, these soldiers can't take all the credit for xenophobia in Myanmar, formerly known as Burma. Dictators, drug lords and antigovernment insurgents have done their share.
Eight years after government soldiers massacred 3,000 pro-democracy demonstrators in Yangon (then Rangoon), the military regime continues to suppress free speech. The United Nations recently denounced Myanmar for ongoing human-rights violations, and PepsiCo plans to join the growing number of American companies that have severed business ties there. Yet this country, one of the most hermetic nations on Earth, has decided that it wants more visitors. The government's "Visit Myanmar" campaign is breathing new life into the Southeast Asia travel circuit. Travelers still watch crocodile wrestling in Bangkok and sample dim sum at Singapore's hawker stalls--but many are saving Myanmar for the main course.
Like its Laos and Vietnam neighbors, Myanmar hopes tourism can jump-start its woeful economy. The annual per capita income of $230 is one of the lowest in booming Southeast Asia. And human-rights-inspired boycotts continue to hobble exports--legal ones, that is. U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration officials believe Myanmar exports 60 percent of the heroin on America's streets.
Rather than tackling the export ban, the government is promoting four-week tourist visas, and a relative stampede has ensued. The state-owned Myanmar Travels & Tours is predicting half a million visitors during 1996 alone.
Newly open doors notwithstanding, why is this rogue nation the hottest destination in Asia? In a region dominated by high-tech megacities like Singapore, Hong Kong and Kuala Lumpur, Myanmar is the peculiar recluse, the crotchety neighbor whose house piques your interest. Having spent the better half of this century in isolation, Myanmar retains the exotic flavors of old Asia. The country holds some of the world's most inspiring religious sites, the Burmese people are fervently courteous to foreigners, and $75 a day easily will cover food, transportation and first-rate lodgings. And theft in Myanmar, a devout Theravada Buddhist country, is virtually nonexistent.
Myanmar's modest charm looms the moment you step into the streets of its capital. Yangon is remarkably laid back--a dusty, dilapidated labyrinth of wide streets, open-air markets and curvaceous temples. There are no high-rises, no billboards, no traffic jams. Buddhist pagodas dot the city, with one rising above all others: Shwedagon. Built 2,500 years ago to enshrine eight hairs of the Buddha's head, the pagoda stands taller than a football field and is swathed in more than $100 million worth of gold.
Shwedagon's base is a shrine of perpetual worship. Ocher-robed monks encircle the pagoda, begging alms and mumbling sutras, or Buddhist scripture. Children bow to a garish statue of the Buddha, who has a halo of flickering disco lights sprouting from his head. Vendors sell floral garlands to pilgrims, who move from temple to temple, leaving offerings of flowers, rice and prayer beads. At dusk, Shwedagon sheds its glittering visage for a more serene appearance. By nightfall, after worshipers have gone, its golden dome glows alone and austere.
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