Mount Popa & the Nats

I’ve not talked much about the cycling in this blog, so here's a cycling story.  After the bumpy tracks earlier in the trip,  around Bagan the off road surface changed to sand, which can stop bicycle wheels dead in their tracks.  Despite this, our lovely tour guides decide that the best way to cycle from Bagan to Mount Popa includes an 11km section off the main road on, you guessed it, sand!  You need the ability to stop suddenly and safely in these conditions so I spent most of the time pedalling with my heel to make sure my shoes don’t accidentally clip into the pedal cleats.  This precaution isn’t fool proof one ouf our group found out.  Taking a left turn over a small bridge his back wheel slipped away and he went over the handlebars, landing unhurt but much to the amusement of the family perched on the back of a bullock cart who had stopped to make way for us.  They had definitely chosen the best way to travel on this surface!

Back on tarmac we headed onwards and upwards to our hotel for the night, Popa Mountain Resort.  This was definitely the star hotel of our trip with fabulous rooms, a spa offering fantastic massage, and of course the view.  Our wooden veranda overlooked dense forest.  No traffic noise, just birdsong.  From the restaurant terrace the view was even better – Mount Popa itself topped with a golden monastery and the home of Burma’s Nat spirits.

Even after our visit to Mount Popa, and climbing its 777 steps, I’m not sure I understand the Nats.  They definitely pre-date Buddhism in Burma, which is over 2500 years old.  And they are still worshipped so seem to sit comfortably alongside the Buddha, in one tableau are worshiping him themselves.  But they are quite strange – 37 superhumans who appear to have gained their superpowers by meeting violent deaths, and then there are a kind of sub-Nat, who gained special powers by eating a dead Nat.  I think.  But they are obviously important to the Burmese – we saw two very old women being carried up and down the incredibly steep steps to the temple.  

The site is also home to macaque monkeys.  They greet us as the bottom of the steps.  We hear them jumping on the tin roof covering the walkway as we ascend, and they cheekily eat the flowers left by the Buddha images. 

There is a protocol for visiting holy sites in Burma.  No shoes, no socks, no shorts above the knee, no spaghetti straps or low cut tops. This is not a problem for me and I grow to enjoy the feel of cool marble or tile under my feet as we walk around.  Occasionally one of our group is caught out by the no shorts requirement, at which point our well-prepared guide steps in with a concealing longhi.  In this innocent country, this was the cause of much amusement.

The longhi is traditional dress for both men and women and daily wear for most of the population, especially outside of the major cities.  But there are differences between the male and female longhi – not just in their colour and pattern, but also in the way they are tied.  The female version is essentially a sarong; the male version, a cylindrical tube that you fold across the front of your body and tie over your tummy, is actually far more practical.  As our guides are male, the spare longhis are also male versions, which are given to the female members of our group when needed.  Without exception, every Burmese woman who saw them wearing the “wrong” longhi burst into giggles and nudged her friend to point out the silly tourist.  Another example of a land steeped in tradition. Long may it continue.