Home Sweet Home

Eric:

I’ve had a handful of messages asking for more information about our apartment and living conditions here in Yangon, so here’s a description and a few photos of the apartment and our neighborhood.

Admittedly, I sometimes refer to it as our “apartment”, and other times as our “hotel”; in fact it’s both.  We’re living in an apartment in one of Yangon’s nicer hotels, the Inya Lake Hotel, a couple miles north of downtown Yangon.  The property is primarily a hotel with typical hotel rooms, but there are a handful of one and two bedroom apartments, as well as some offices scattered among the hotel’s five floors.  It's a decent sized apartment, probably about 1,000 sq ft (that’s 93 sq meters to some of you) with two bedrooms, two balconies, one bathroom, and a small kitchen.  We’re allowed full run of the hotel facilities, laundry, gym, sauna, pool, tennis courts, etc, and breakfast in the hotel dining room is included in our rent. 

Kinda looks like a cruise ship from this angle.

Living room looking towards 2nd bedroom, a.k.a. Rossana's shoe closet.



Galley kitchen.  I pretend I'm cooking on a boat.  A really, really small boat.



Our downstairs neighbors.

Our hotel was presented as a gift to the nation from the Soviet Union in 1962 during a state visit from Nikita Kruschev, back when Burma was flirting with socialism.  According to the hotel website, the free form swimming pool was designed with input from Kruschev [really?  He took time out from the Cuban missile crisis to design a pool?]. 

Yeah, that blue bridge just screams Nikita!

The hotel’s other claim to fame was as site of a grizzly murder of a 52 year old Mitsubishi executive and his 21 year old female “houseguest” in one of the hotel’s apartments during a botched burglary in 2002.  Hmm, wonder if this has anything to do with that chalk outline on our living room floor.

The apartment/hotel is perched on the eastern edge of Inya Lake, an artificial lake that was created by the British back in 1885 (then called Victoria Lake) to provide drinking water to the city, and the largest lake in Yangon. 

Shore of Inya Lake from the hotel.

The lake is one of Yangon’s historically more posh addresses, with residents including Myanmar opposition leader Aung San Suu Kyi [the home where she remained under house arrest for almost 15 years], former head of state and strongman Ne Win, as well as the US Ambassador, and more recently the US Embassy.  The western embankment of the lake was also the site of the “red bridge” massacre, one of the most brutal crackdowns on protesting university students by the military in March 1988.  Today, the bridge is gone, and the road has been renamed.  Young lovers snog behind the privacy of umbrellas, possibly unaware of the embankment’s infamous past. 

Entrance to Aung San Suu Kyi compound.



Couples cuddling on the Inya Lake embankment.

Get a room!

Although the lake is also home to the Yangon Sailing Club, Yangon Yacht Club, Myanmar Yachting Federation, Myanmar Rowing and Canoeing Federation, and University Boat Club, the only boats I’ve seen on the water since we moved in have been a couple of kayakers last weekend, and the workers below, harvesting some sort of greenery from the water possibly destined for a local salad bar.

Myanmar Navy

A short distance from us, hidden among some trees just south of the lake, is the Lim Chin Tsong Palace. 

Photo of palace taken shortly after WWII.   (copyright expired)



The palace today.

The pagoda like central tower is adorned with marble Grecian columns, and European style archways.  According to the little bit of information I’ve been able to find about the place online, the interior contains murals painted by British artists Dod and Ernest Proctor.

Exclusive local agent of the Burmah Oil Company back at the turn of the last century, Lim Chin Tsong (“LCT” to his friends) was a Rangoon born Chinese who inherited his father’s small rice trading company and expanded it into petroleum, rubber, shipping, and other industries.  He built his palace in 1918 out of mostly imported materials, and was one of Rangoon’s leading citizens, awarded the Order of the British Empire (OBE) by King George V.  Ultimately, he’d lost most of his fortune by 1921 when the British government banned the sale of Burmese rice, except to India.  The local rice market collapsed, taking much of what remained of LCT’s fortune with it.  He died in 1923 and his estate was declared insolvent in 1924.  Since then, the property has changed hands a few times, and most recently served as the Office for Department of Arts until the federal government relocated to Naypyidaw, and in 2010 became the State High School of Art.   I tried visiting the other day, but the gates were locked.  Turns out it was a national holiday and the school was closed.  If I ever get inside, I’ll put up some more photos.

Like all of Yangon, there’s a lot of homeless dogs around our area, a few of whom have adopted the front porch of the hotel as their sun shade.  I bought some dog treats to give them, but the hotel staff were decidedly unhappy with my largess for some reason. 

Dog parking lot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Death Trap Sidewalk Rant and Miscellany

Eric:
After the internet speed - or lack thereof - the thing that probably drives me the most nuts here is the city sidewalks. 

You don't dare text and walk here.  You can't even turn to watch a pretty girl, each step might be your last!  And don't even think about walking at night without a flashlight, as streetlights are few, and working streetlights even fewer. 



Okay, maybe I made that up.

Dangers start with the simple pavement settlement or missing section of concrete that might stub a toe or turn an ankle...


A California lawyer's wet dream

...to obstacles a bit more troublesome...

...and extend to craters capable of swallowing a small Toyota.

I think I see taillights.

And if that's not enough fun, by the end of rainy season, slick moss covers many of the sidewalks making sudden stops or turns impossible.


Slippery when green.

Here's the sidewalk along a major thoroughfare near our lodgings.

No stumbling home from the pub along this walkway.

Typically, there is a pool or flowing stream of water at the bottom of these holes, often a looooong way down.  At least I hope it's water.


A couple photos from a recent day by the river:

All aboard!

Water taxi shoves off in the rain

Retired ferry boats end their days carrying cargo up and down the Irrawaddy River

Stevedores load bags of rice from the ferries onto waiting trucks.



These guys aren't even breaking a sweat (I was just taking the photo).

Note the "chopsticks" on the ground in the photos above.  Along with the bag of rice the stevedore carries a color coded chopstick with each load that is then collected and counted to determine how many bags were loaded onto the truck.

In closing...

Crime may not pay, but in Myanmar apparently getting married does.  Last Sunday must have been an auspicious day to get married, there seemed to be weddings going on all over town.  Three at our hotel alone.

The loot from one of Sunday's weddings. 

Colonial Decay

Eric:

Sorry for the long lay-off.  First I caught a cold, then Rossana and I left town for a week or so, and then we visited Bagan last weekend (future blog post perhaps) and eventually, after a few false starts, we finally moved out of the latest of a series of hotel rooms, and into an apartment.  After six weeks living out of suitcases in a single room, two bedrooms seems suddenly palatial. 



Living room in our new digs. - Note the lizard outside on the right side window (don't tell Rossana)!

Colonial Decay and Monetary Policy – one of the unique features of Yangon is the abundance of British colonial architecture; said to be the largest collection of surviving buildings of this style in Southeast Asia.  Unfortunately, much of it is on the verge of collapse, and/or at risk of redevelopment.

Background - a brief and incredibly incomplete history of late 20^th Century Burma (Note – I’m referring to it as Burma and Rangoon at this point because the names were not changed to Myanmar/Yangon respectively until 1989).  What follows is a quick review of both architectural and monetary story of Burma/Myanmar over the latter half of the 20^th Century.  Though I really intended to just discuss the colonial buildings, the two seem irrevocably intertwined.

Colonial Style Defined – The architecture that the British introduced and later left behind in their colonies was not a single style.  Designs varied widely between different colonies, influenced by the cultures, environment, economy, and available resources. 

In Burma, the surviving structures generally fall into two categories – government buildings, and commercial structures.   Few private residences remain unless they were a part of a commercial building.  Of the government buildings, I’ve read both that they were intended to awe and inspire, and that they were built to remind the British colonials of the sentimentalized Britain they had left behind.  There are many buildings of this general style surviving throughout the former colonies, as they were typically constructed of heavy stone, and in many cases receive continued upkeep as they’ve gone on to perform the same roles in the new governments following independence, following Britain’s withdrawal.  This is largely true in Yangon, with the notable exception of the Secretariat Building (below).  More about that a bit later.

The Secretariat Building, seat of British administration in Burma, built 1905.  Photo taken in “early 1900’s”.

City Hall, completed in 1936.  Recently renovated.

Law courts, completed 1911.  Seat of the Supreme Court until 2006.

  

Commercial structures are typically constructed in rows, stone or concrete façades, 3 to 4 stories, with 14 foot ceilings.  It is these buildings that have suffered the most, and are at greatest risk of redevelopment.

 

 The Burmese Way to Socialism - Following a military coup in 1962, the ruling ‘Revolutionary Council’ sought to reduce (read “eliminate”) foreign influence in Burma, and instituted The Burmese Way to Socialism.   The following year this path included write off of peasant debts, nationalization of all major industries, oil, banking, rice, teak, and rubber production, and later in the year, department stores, wholesalers, and warehouses.  In total, over 15,000 private firms were nationalized.  1966, the government announced that private newspapers were to be banned altogether.  All Chinese and Indian language newspapers were halted, and all printing required to be in Burmese or English only.

It’s estimated that during this period, 2,500 “foreigners” a week were leaving the country, the majority ethnic Indians and Burmese Chinese, both of whom controlled significant portions of the Burmese economy up until this time” [many of these “foreigners” had lived in Burma for generations].   

One of the outcomes of the mass emigration and property seizure was a number of suddenly vacant buildings, many of them the colonial era gems located in the Rangoon downtown business district.  At the direction of the Revolutionary Council, much of the seized property was distributed as residences amongst the local population across all economic classes – accountants, and college professors to taxi drivers and street peddlers.  I don’t know how the various properties were allocated, but it appears to have been more or less random. 

What followed was more or less a total collapse of the economy, driving Burma from among the wealthiest nations in the region to one of the poorest over the course of a single generation.  If there ever were funds earmarked for building upkeep, they quickly dwindled, and like the economy, the old buildings declined along with the rest of the infrastructure.  Damage from the harsh climate was exacerbated in 1988 when the region was struck by Cyclone Nargis, inflicting tremendous damage and loss of life (it is alleged that government officials stopped updating the death toll after 138,000 to minimize political fallout – a little late if you ask me.  Actual fatalities are estimated to have exceeded 200,000)

Government attempts to right the failing economy consisted of clever actions like abruptly nullifying all 50 and 100 Kyat banknotes in 1987 and replacing them with 25, 35, and 75 Kyat notes.  Little time was allowed for holders of the old notes to exchange them.  Just to keep things interesting, the following year, the new 25, 35, 75 Kyat notes were subsequently nullified with no compensation given – replaced by 45 and 90 Kyat notes (denominations chosen because they were multiples of the party chairman’s lucky number 9!).  This stunt essentially rendered approximately 75% of the nation’s currency worthless overnight, wiping out the life savings of those fortunate enough to still have any, but doing nothing to right the floundering economy.  Riots ensued, bloodshed, further lockdown by the ruling military government, even greater isolation of the country.   And of course, no upkeep of the fading colonial remnants of the British era. 

Paradoxically, this half century of economic stagnation unwittingly saved much of the colonial architecture from redevelopment, albeit in a diminished state.

 

Fast forward to 2010.  Part of the transition from military junta to a parliamentary system includes auctioning off roughly 80 percent of the nation’s state owned assets.  Included in the sales were a number Yangon’s colonial buildings.  While the influx of private capital raises the possibility of restoration of the historic buildings, because of their prime location, it also makes them attractive redevelopment opportunities. 

Several of the finer examples have already fallen to the wrecking ball – though in Yangon, the wrecking ball consists of hordes of laborers with hammers and crowbars demolishing the buildings by hand, one brick at a time.

 

A recent casualty, this building was demolished last year and is now a construction site for a new high rise (photo credit unknown).

  

Soafer & Co Department Store. 

Built in 1906 by Isaac Soafer, a Jewish émigré from Baghdad.  The department store Soafer & Co pictured above featured floor tiles inlayed with a mosaic pattern of green, gold, burnt sienna and lapis lazuli imported from Manchester, native teak staircases and some of Rangoon’s first elevators. According to a recent article in Al-Jazeera, today the building is home to 20 families, some law offices, a guest house, art gallery, and ground floor shops, all of whom are currently threatened with eviction.



The Strand Hotel, erected in 1896 and opened in 1901.



One of the earliest and most successful restorations.  Beginning in 1962, the Strand Hotel was taken over and operated by the Burmese Government and imaginatively renamed The Peoples Hotel.  The result was predictably disastrous, leading the 1979 edition of Lonely Planet to encourage guests to ignore the rats, “shut your mind to the minor drawbacks” and “enjoy the Strand’s other advantages”.  In 1989 the Stand was sold to a group of private investors [note – I read varying versions of this, some describe it as a joint venture with the government, which given the political climate at the time seems a bit more likely], and reopened in 1993 as an all-suite hotel, paying careful respect to the building’s rich heritage.  Just 32 guestrooms – no pool, no spa, no tennis courts, no conference center.  It remains one of Yangon’s most exclusive and expensive hotels. 

A few other examples:

Restoration of the façade underway, though curiously after all that effort and expense, the renovated bits are  largely obscured by advertising.

50^th Street Café Restaurant and Bar.  Ground zero for Yangon’s expat hipsters and hipster wannabes.

And… not so restored.

 







A couple of the relatively few surviving residences from the colonial period

Last year, a government commission identified 188 buildings that would be protected from redevelopment in order to help preserve the cultural heritage of Yangon  (Side note – the Pegu Club that I wrote about in posting #2 was not included on this list). 

The Secretariat - Of all the colonial sites in Yangon, the most magnificent is undoubtedly the Secretariat Building, original seat of the British administration in Burma.  Today, it sits a vacant, albeit beautiful ruin.  At an estimated $100 million restoration cost, its future is still uncertain.

The main building, over 400,000 sq. feet.

Following the British exit from Burma, the Secretariat complex became the home of the Burmese parliament beginning in 1948 until the 1962 coup, when it became the Minister’s Office and was declared off limits to the public.  It served this function until 2005 when the government relocated the capital 200 miles north to the new city of Naypitaw.  Thereafter, it served as home to some 400 military officers, police, and their families, as well as a temporary camp for military troops who were occasionally deployed in the city to suppress various bits of unrest.



 

 

 

The large dome to the left of the image fell victim to Japanese bombardment in WWII, and large sections of the roof were lost during Cyclone Nargis.



 



Keep out!



Evidence of at least some work being done on the property.

When the nominally civilian government took power in 2011, there were plans drafted to turn the 16 acre complex into a hotel and convention center; however, following public outcry these plans were shelved. 

Last year the Myanmar Investment Commission, which controls leases on government properties, handed the Secretariat complex (currently among the largest restoration projects in the world) over to a group of local artists with no restoration experience who plan to create a museum, cultural center, and art gallery, while restoring the property “bit by bit”.   Even they admit they don’t really know why their proposal was selected by the Commission over competing plans.  I’m sure it had nothing to do with the 27 year old Project Director (an accounting graduate) being the granddaughter of a former general in the military government.

The bamboo scaffolding is not only inexpensive and easy to erect, it doesn’t get as hot as metal under the tropical sun.



I’m sure there’s a “frozen hands of time” metaphor here, but that would just be too easy.