After an enormous breakfast — with an English component, eggs and toast, and a Shan component, with Shan noodles or fried rice — Tun Tun picked us up in the bus and we headed north toward a string of tribal villages.
Along the way we passed a couple of road crews, Myanmar style: women carrying huge rocks and loads of sand. God knows where their men were. We also learned a lot about rice cultivation, and stopped to watch a large group of people working in the paddies.
Once we turned onto the side road that led to the villages it was very slow going, with huge potholes and constant wash boarding. At one point we all had to get out of the bus in order to allow the bus to make it across a partially ruined bridge. We passed through a Lahu village and then stopped at a Hakka village, where we encountered a band of women hawking their weaving and bracelet. We made our way on foot up through this fairly prosperous village and came out on the steep dirt road into the mountains. After about 45 minutes we reached our first destination, an En village. As we approached the village, we were besieged by a pack of children, who knew that visitors would often bring presents for them. We had brought more than 50 handknit woolen caps and 50 matchbox cars, and we handed these out to the kids, often at some peril (I had to rescue one of our party who was surrounded by kids and almost pushed over a bank).
This was the most primitive place most of our travelers had ever seen: no running water, no sanitation, no electricity. Unfortunately, the headman (who is also the shaman of the village, which is animist and worships 37 wooden fetishes called Nats) was away in the fields, so we weren’t treated to a tea ceremony as we had been the year before.
We split into two groups at the En village. One group headed up a steep slope toward a Pulao village before descending sharply to the bus; Tun Tun and I ledthe other group through more of the En village before descending more gently.
We took a long detour down a side road on the way home, stopping at a monastic retreat center: monks from throughout the region come to spend a week; each are given a novice to serve them and a senior monk to further their knowledge of Buddhist doctrine. It was a pretty remarkable place, a bustling community that melded the nearby village, the resident monks, and the visitors.
On the way into town w stopped for The most unusual meal of the trip: We had Shan noodle soup in what is otherwise a scooter repair shop. Probably not the most salubrious environment we’ve ever had a meal in, but the noodles were very good!
We then returned to Kyaing Tong late afternoon and, after a little rest, drove to the Kyaing Tong Learning Center, where our friend Cynthia Paul, a former Cetana Scholar, teaches about 500 students a week with the help of a group of assistant teachers, all of whom learned English from her. Their language ability is astonishing! We split into groups and engaged groups of students in conversation. I started with beginners and then went upstairs to the advanced students: a great way to see the progress these kids are making. I think the group was deeply impressed with Cynthia and her school; she is a truly remarkable young woman: charismatic, supremely dedicated, and highly entrepreneurial
We concluded the evening with dinner 9th Cynthia and her teachers; hr mother had cooked really delicious Shan Noodles….for the third time in one day!.