In the morning, we wake at 6:30am to quite the commotion. The owner of the house is scolding Alvaro and Helen, who are trying to figure out what is going on, in the same way the rest of us are. The night before, they moved their pillows to the foot of their bed, and now a group of locals stands around us, pointing and shaking their heads. The owner angrily says “No feet,” and “Buddha,” motioning to the shrine that is now in the direction of the couples’ feet. Barely out of their dreams, the two confused backpackers apologize, we all got out of bed in a somewhat somber mood. We are back on the road after a large breakfast, and are glad to distance ourselves from the grumpy old man. We start the day hiking up the large hill behind the village, and follow a ridgeline trail along the top for some kilometers before reaching another village. Here the trail turns into a gravely-dirt road that we walk for another few kilometers until we arrive at two enormous trees that we stop under to rest for a few minutes. By this point we are making fun of the morning folly, and our guide tells Alvaro and Helen not to worry, that it was an innocent mistake (that they will never make again!). For the sake of a photo, I climb the trunk of one of the trees up onto one of the massive limbs jutting out parallel to the ground, and suddenly feel a fiery burning sensation growing rapidly on my right hand. 30 or so small, nasty black ants are swarming between my fingers biting with all they’ve got, I shake my hands frantically, but they all remain latched to my skin. I try brushing them off, and succeed only in removing some, and smear bits of the remaining stubborn ants all over me. It is an unpleasant experience, and I decide to come down. Looking down I see a solid team of these nasty biting ants streaming across the branch I had grabbed to get up the tree moments earlier. Carefully, I jump down, making sure like heck that I don’t put my hand anywhere near the swarm of small but vicious bodies. We continue on, and the road starts dropping elevation, as we look out to the vast flatness of the plains stretching out in front of us.

As the road begins to wind down to the flat expanse below, we separate from the road and take a more direct shortcut down the hillside. Walking across the large flat plain, we arrive at the largest town since leaving Kalaw, and with it, the first paved road since the morning before. Luckily, we barely use it. As soon as our lunch of noodles and fruit is done, we were cross the road and begin following a dirt one for a few kilometers. It brings us to a river, with bamboo bridges crossing it at numerous points. We cross one of these and make our way towards limestone cliffs that loom in the distance. Evan is looking rough, and Alvaro tells him we should arrive in the next village in 20 minutes. 20 minutes later, Khuso tells us we are 25 minutes from the village; Evan runs off into the bushes. After a short break waiting for Evan, we make our way over more fields and terraces, and find ourselves walking up into a pass between the limestone cliffs. 

As we exit the limestone canyon, the Part Tu village becomes visible beyond the many groves of bamboo. This village, home to the Ba-O tribe, though small, is perhaps three times the size of the one we called home the night before. Once settled in our new room with a bouncy bamboo slat floor – the second floor of a mostly bamboo built house – we are off exploring, with the exception of Evan who was all too happy to be in close proximity to the facilities. Having arrived in the town an hour or so earlier than arrival the day before, I brought my slackline along in hopes we would find a suitable place to set it up. We exit the opposing side of town from where we entered, and find ourselves standing at the edge of a forest consisting of large clumps of bamboo and the occasional tree. I decided it is time to fulfill a dream, and anchored my line to a tree on one end, and three canes of bamboo on the other. An older lady passing by stops and gazed at my strange actions from behind a few canes. When the line is up, a local man on his way back into the village takes interest in the unusual activity, and sits to watch. Soon, 4 young boys and a girl join the ranks of curious spectators. Though fascinated, they all shake their heads and shy away from our offers for them to try. We return to our place after a short on the slackline, and get ready for dinner. Despite the sweaty work of the day, and the basin of water for showering being more private than the night before, I don’t think any of us did much more than splash water on our hands and face, in favour of waiting for running water the next night when we arrive in Nyaung Shwe. There are no musical parties erupting from the silence of the town this night, but we have quite the eventful game of cards that gain us a few spectators, and even included our guide Khuso for a few rounds.