Bridge of Life

To some of us, a bridge is merely a structure that connects two points. But to many of us, a bridge can be metaphorically significant. Personally I have found solace in the symbolic representation of bridge as hope. In times of sorrow or distress, it can be comforting to imagine oneself crossing the bridge over troubled water with the prospect of better things on the other side.

I have crossed too many bridges that I am unable to remember all of them. I fondly remember the little bridge that spanned across the little river at my beloved grandmother’s place. I remember taking some I-am-trying-to-look-cool photos on a suspension bridge during a high school camping trip (looking at the photos today, my reaction tends to be… ewwwww!). Harvard Bridge was part of my do-or-die running route when Boston became my short-term place of residence. I am also fortunate enough to have crossed some of the world’s iconic bridges such as Golden Gate Bridge, Brooklyn Bridge and Capilano Suspension Bridge.

The most recent bridge I walked on is U Bein Bridge located in the ancient capital of Amarapura in Myanmar. It was no ordinary bridge that gave me extraordinary experience of the country that spelled much mystery to me prior to my visit with my mom and sister. The bridge has become one of Myanmar’s star attractions. It has been featured in a lot of postcards and paintings that attempt to depict the bridge in quiet romance. It has seen people from all walks of life cross it on a daily basis. What is it about U Bein Bridge that makes it so fascinating to so many people? Do people come to it for the fact that it is the world’s longest and oldest teakwood bridge built over 150 years ago? Do they come so they can admire the engineering feat accomplished by the man after whom the bridge is named — the local mayor at the time, U Bein (Mr. Bein)? Or do people come because the bridge is on the list of Myanmar travel guidebooks’ must-sees? I would like to think that we are all driven by different reasons to make a trip to U Bein Bridge.


Silhouettes of people walking on U Bein Bridge against the setting sun and their reflections on the water of Taungthaman Lake.


The Bridge is a lot more quiet in the morning.


The beautiful surroundings of U Bein Bridge – wooden boats and their reflections on the calm waters of Taungthaman Lake, lush green fields, farmers’ hut… Photo courtesy of Shuzytha Bidder.


Lovely views of the surroundings of U Bein Bridge. The distant land is dotted with stupas and monasteries. A fisherman takes a couple on a boat ride across Taungthaman Lake flanked by green fields. Photo courtesy of Shuzytha Bidder.

I came for its widespread reputation as an iconic landmark of Mandalay. We visited the bridge on two different occasions —mid-morning and sunset — thus allowing us to have different experiences of the bridge. If I could summarize the two different experiences, I would say, on the surface the mid-morning visit was characterized by fewer people, and the sunset visit saw considerably more people. But on the deeper level, I would say both occasions allowed me to view U Bein Bridge as a bridge of life.

I picture U Bein Bridge as a wise old sage who has seen the arrivals and departures of hundreds of thousands of people since its inception. Through his lens, I saw how the bridge and its surroundings have become a center of livelihoods for many local people — souvenir sellers selling essentially the same trinkets on the bridge, a large group of shops and restaurants on one end of the bridge, fishermen on their wooden boats gliding across the Taungthaman Lake above which the bridge stretches out for slightly over 1 kilometer, farmers tending their crops. Looking from a wider angle, beyond subsistence, I observed monks on their way to some monastic school (I presume!), couples who seemed to be head over heels in love that they seemed to be oblivious to their surroundings, friends hanging out together and who could not seem to get enough of taking wefies, the solo visitors who seemed to stare blankly at the distant land (I wonder what they were thinking) and who shyly took selfies when they thought no one was watching, tourists who were probably packed with a sense of curiosity, excitement, gratefulness and much anticipation for their one-on-one encounters with the bridge. As the sunset drew a closure for all who had come to it, I watched the souvenir sellers pack their trinkets back into boxes, fishermen tend their fishing nets, farmers put down their tools, kids have the time of their lives, people leave and head home or to their next destination. Tomorrow and the subsequent days, weeks, months, and years will witness, I imagine, pretty much the same scenes — the sun rises and sets, people come and go. Indeed, U Bein Bridge is a perfect point to watch lives. Another perspective from which I look at the bridge is that my Myanmar trip was enjoyable, deep and profound chiefly because of two experiences. U Bein Bridge is one of them. It has given a precious life to my Myanmar adventure.


The sun is slowly dipping below the horizon, marking the end of the day.


Spectacular reflection as the sun reflects off the now-very-still water of Taungthaman Lake, appearing to form an illuminated path of sorts on the surface of the water.


At the end of the day, fishermen, if not taking tourists out on a boat ride to view the bridge from the lake’s angle, tend their fishing nets. Photo courtesy of Shuzytha Bidder.


My mom watches the day go by as she sips a fresh coconut. Photo courtesy of Shuzytha Bidder.


My sister and the artist who painted the U Bein Bridge painting that she bought in Bogyoke Aung San Market in Yangon. What a nice little chance encounter!

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