To the east of Eden

As I sat down on the wooden bench of a roadside bar in remote Eastern Myanmar — home to the long-neck tribe Kayan Lahwi — a tribal woman, presumably the owner, sauntered in. Her round face and hair, a close crop that fell on the forehead, was typical of a Kayan woman. But something else was different about her. It was her neck. It was abnormally long and slender and I quickly realised that she was liberated from her set of tribal neck rings. “Has she had her neck rings removed?” I asked my guide Joseph and immediately felt an urge to talk to her to know if she feels any different or scared that her neck will snap.

Heavy bronze rings are added to a Kayan girl’s neck at the tender age of five. The neck gets elongated as the girl becomes a woman. An age-old practice to prevent rival tribes from abducting the beautiful Kayan Lahwi women, the tradition is now waning but women with bronze-ringed necks are still found in the villages surrounding Loikaw, the capital of Kayah, a state in East Myanmar.

Turns out, this particular woman, Mu Prize, removed her braces six years ago. Her graceful face is supported by her slender neck and it renders her ineffable beauty. She is without inhibition, willing to engage in a conversation, albeit with the help of an interpreter. Two years ago, this might have been an impossible conversation to have had, let alone an impossible sight to witness these beautiful women. Atrocities against tribal minorities by the military spurred rebellion and Kayah, which borders Thailand, was out of bounds for tourists.

Things are slowly changing, however. As Myanmar slowly eases restrictions, the far reaches of the country are being opened for tourism. Kayah, surrounded by Karen Hills, is one such. People are genial and their hospitality is unencumbered by their suffering and poverty. Earlier that day, my guesthouse owner Saw Khin La had offered to do my laundry (and didn’t bill it afterwards).

Loikaw’s aloofness is a welcome break from the tourism onslaught the country witnessed in recent years. I arrived after a gruelling 12-hour ride from Mandalay in a bus, in which the driver swore to keep the passengers awake with the unkind help of blaring music and silly Myanmar slapsticks in which girls with pink hair represented the face of modernity.

Loikaw itself proved to be a far cry from the cacophonic assault I suffered in the bus. On that reluctantly misty morning, as I drove to my guesthouse in a taxi, broad roads hugged the shadows of huge tree canopies. The sun felt light on the skin, a milder version of its rather unsympathetic avatar in the upper Burmese plains of Mandalay.

My guide Joseph was aware of Loikaw’s growing importance on the tourist map. He quit being a guide in Yangon and moved to Loikaw, his birthplace, to be with family and in the hope that tourism will bring business to the region. Life is hard, tourism is only slowly picking up and he has a family to feed. Both his knowledge of the region and his English are impeccable.

As we parked our car by the road and trekked across village after village in the tribal belt, we saw tribal women harvesting the fields, their sickle coarsely sawing through bunches of ripe paddy. Their neck rings glinted in the sun.

Joseph looked hopeful of the country’s future though he didn’t share the same enthusiasm regarding Daw Suu Kyi’s chances of becoming the next president. “They won’t let her,” he said, referring to the still-partially military ruling party.

Though Christianity has reached these far corners, ancient customs have survived. We came upon a patch of land with tall, wind-eroded wooden structures. These are nat temples, Joseph intoned. Nats are spirits and they are intertwined with the lives of the villagers. Temples are built to appease them, sacrifices are offered and celebrated. We also visit the Seven Fairies Lake — the lake does look like fairies could reside in its aquamarine waters. Without a soul in sight to dip in its pristine waters, it stays placid, nudged by an ageing, wooden dive board.

Back at Mu Prize’s shop, conversation built up. She found it strange that I asked if her husband approved of her removing the neck braces. Of course he did, she replied. I sipped kounge ye , a country wine distilled from maize, in plastic glasses. It is traditional Kayan tipple, Joseph tells me before sceptically offering me a glass. He was not sure I could handle the potency. It is full bodied, not unlike the Japanese sake, but its tanginess lingers long after the last sip. Joseph didn’t know I’ve had worse. I pretended naiveté, coyly accepting another glass. The sun grew febrile as the afternoon progressed.

After a while, Joseph pried me apart from the conversation and the shop bench — it was time for us to watch the sunset from a special vantage point, he said. Before which, there was one more stop — the Umbrella Lake. A sacred water body into which one throws a pebble after making a wish, the lake’s perennial spring brings up bubbles, umbrella like.

I made a wish. For Joseph. I picked a pebble and thought to myself — let there be many wonderful sunrises in Joseph’s life — before throwing it into the lake. I scurried away with him to watch the sunset, pleasantly disoriented by the koung ye state of mind.

TRAVEL LOG

Get ther e : Located in Eastern Myanmar, Loikaw is the capital of Kayah State and is well-connected by road from all major cities in the country. Two companies, Shwe yar Zar and Thein Than Gaday, run daily bus services from Mandalay. An overnight bus from Mandalay (around 365km) will cost you approximately $11 (₹700 approximately).

Stay : You can find budget guesthouses for US$20-30 (₹1,300-1,900 approximately) a night per person. Advance booking is, however, recommended. One good option is the Nan Ayar Inn, run by a friendly, elderly woman. +95 83 21306

Sightseeing : Write to Win Naing at loikawtravel.infos@gmail.com to plan a trip for you. Spend at least two days to visit the tribal villages.

BL ink Tip : Visit the Loikaw market for its curious hill produce — from quirky fruits and green tea to sun-dried, sour mustard leaves, which lend a heady tang to any dish. Try the local set meal that comes with an assortment of curries and salads and wash it down with green tea.

Prathap Nairis a Bengaluru-based freelance writer

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