Inle – Is It Interesting?

All this time I understood the name for this popular Myanmar destination to be “Inle Lake.” After arriving I found that saying “Lake” is redundant. “In” already means lake. The “-le” part makes it diminutive, like the “-let” in “piglet.” Which leaves us with “Dear little lake?”

Except that it’s not really any of those things. “Cultivated Wetland” might be a more appropriate term. Much of the “lake” is in fact a garden. Farmers take weeds from the bottom and use them to build a floating foundation for their crops. The garden beds slide up and down along long bamboo poles that are stuck deep in the mud, supporting eggplant, tomatoes, beans, cauliflower, cabbage, melons, and bananas.

This ever-expanding semi-land, combined with silt pouring in from deforested surroundings, mean that some day the word “lake” may be even less necessary. Right now the average depth is about 7 feet, which explains the unique style of paddling used by local boatmen. Many stand and wrap one leg around their oar, the better to scan the route ahead to avoid getting stuck among reeds growing in the shallow water.

While the gardens and the paddlers and the purple hills in the background make for a nice day’s outing, to me the region bordering the water is more interesting than the lake itself. I’ve seen Scottish lochs and

American ponds that I’d sooner go back to than return to Inle. Certainly the town at the lake’s outlet offers nearly nothing to write home about. Yet there is one time each year, in September and October, when Inle earns the “dear” in its name. Buddha images from a special temple are toured around Inle on a bird-like boat, guided by several leg-rowers paddling in sync.