The Belgians

During my second holiday from school, I met some Belgian friends. One, a middle-aged man has been donating to the Zaytawun School for the past four years. He gave toilets and uniforms. He was traveling with his two friends, Florence and Geofroi, two students at Belgian Universities, who were interested in teaching English during their stay in Burma.

That day, they enthusiastically taught the Zaytawun students songs from the Sound of Music. Before long the children were performing a four part harmony and varying the volume and pitch of their voices. If I had closed my eyes, it would seem as though Julie Andrews and Christopher Plummer had walked in and taken their place.

After school, the four of us went to the Jetty to swim (or in my case, to watch as they swam and the woman upriver emptied her trash and baby's diaper into the Ayerwaddy River). 

We played hand games and cane ball with villagers until the sun set. We went to Old Bagan for dinner.

We continued this nightly routine for the remainder of their week-long stay.

(Women at the Jetty doing laundry in the Irrawaddy)

On the following Monday, as I was setting out on my bike to spend the day studying for the SAT at school, Florence and Geoffroi intercepted me and asked if I would like to go to an island in the middle of the Irrawaddy to teach English and later visit the temples. I said, "No, I'd rather study alone at the empty school, than explore ancient ruins and island villages with you all."

So we set off with their seven friends, who had arrived the morning before, for La Pangyi Paw Island. This island was so remote that its islanders had seen maybe two white people in its existence. That is why there was so much hubbub about our arrival. When we docked on the island, we were escorted by the chief and his entourage in ox carts adorned with flowers to the school. In a classroom, we were fed, then fed, given the chance to teach for an hour and then fed and fed some more. The entire village came to the school to watch us teach "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," "The Sound of Music," and clownishly act out English nouns and verbs. The most magical part was our farewell, which engaged the entire town in singing "So Long, Farewell."

After class, we had a feast of curries, fried chicken, fresh fruits, and rice.
With full stomachs, we toured the island, walkined on questionable staircases and bridges, and were invited into two story woven bamboo homes. When it was time to leave for our 30 minute trip back to the mainland in the partially flooded boat, we spent the fifteen minutes waving loving Goodbyes to our new friends on shore.


When we arrived back in Nyaung Oo we took our "beach bikes" desert riding through the overgrown trails of Old Bagan's temple region. The remainder of the afternoon was spent scaling 11th/12th/13th century pagodas, observing ancient murals, and swooning over the view of endless Bagan's temple-dotted plains.





After an exhausting day I wished the "Belgiums" a safe trip as they loaded on the bus to Inle Lake.