The Human Macchi

A few days ago, U Ko Lay happened to catch a glimpse of a wild life programme on BBC Knowledge television, about a tigress by the name of Macchi (lady of the lakes) in Ranthambore National Park in India. The name was due to her marks similar to that of a fish. In short, the programme documented on the famous tigress Macchi, who cheated death as the world’s oldest living tiger, after 17 years she can still be spotted around. But the Ranthambore of today is ruled by her descendent(s). Macchi these day is old, lost all her canine teeth due to age, slow and maybe a little less majestic, but still alive and kicking. Sadly, her throne is no more. It was well documented in the land of tigers and circle of their lives. U Ko Lay, thought how true, in real life, it would be the similar in some cases for us motels too, even though we may be so called civilized men, and they are supposed to be wild animals. He spied the programme through an open window of a ground floor apartment, while he waited for his bus at his stop. He could not watch it at home, since he does not have a reception dish and receiver set. In the pouring rain, he could just make out the story line but cannot hear the commentary. However, he did enjoy it and helped him not to think of the pouring rain under a scanty bus shelter.

In Yangon, old men would sit for ages in front of their houses sipping green tea all day long. In Chinatown, they would congregate in front of temples or in tea- shops, reminiscing on old times. While around 28^th Street, old Indian gentlemen in their cotton dhotis would be beside the road in the shade, chewing their favorite paan or smoking beedies and discuss the prevailing markets. Not officially, but through the grape vines, it’s been said that a few of these old folks with a selected few in their chosen fields, control the prices of gold, rice, cooking oil, cigarettes, peanuts and sesame, not following the general world’s prices but generating a life of their own. Strange, but there you are, take it or leave it. U Ko Lay wondered who these guys would they be, must be rich though. It if were him, he would have one thousand beautiful virgins on each side while smoking a Cuban cigar and cruising along in the latest Mercedes, fully air-conditioned, of course. He thought that old they may be with no more teeth, but if it were himself, he would not take it lying down. He would enjoy life to the brim, with the help of up to date medications, for that necessary drive. Ha, ha, dream on if you wish, after all, it’s free of charge.

Monsoon rains in Yangon can be hard. Escaping the poring rain is a true impossibility. From his humble home in Thaketa, a cheaper suburb of Yangon, to town center is an adventure by itself. He cannot wear leather slippers as it would just be destroyed and become a shape of its own in the rain. He prods along in his Thailand made bathroom rubber slippers. A bit more expensive compared to locally produced ones, but it’s durable and more presentable at work (he thinks). Every weekday morning, he would walk twenty minutes to his stop and take a bus ride into town, which is another thirty five to forty minutes. The busses are truly jam-packed and to be able to just secure a foothold is a marathon by itself. U Ko Lay carries a Shan bag, where he stuff his spare shirt and longyi plus his tiffin box for his lunch. With also his black umbrella, he balances to work and just glad to have arrived in one piece. His tiffin box is only rice for two reasons. One, with no oil in the food, it would not soil his second set of clothes. Two, it’s too expensive to have a dish or curry, together with the rice. Really quite an easy deduction, simple as that. Agree?

The busses are mainly from Japan and some from South Korea. These are second hand busses from there, more correctly, written off or retired busses. In Yangon, they have found a second lease of life, where their European counterparts are still unable to have a foothold in the business. His rides were never comfortable and always standing up, as their stop is halfway from the starting point. U Ko Lay never carry much cash or anything of value since he is much afraid of pick pockets, not that they will, he is too shabby in appearance to be targeted. On pay days, he would put the cash in a small plastic bag, and hang it with a file strap around his neck inside his singlet, and hold on to it until he gets home. It’s the safest way and works every time. Being rainy season, the busses windows are all down and he would only taste fresh air when the bus doors open. The busses were designed for air-conditioning during summer months and heater during wintertime, here, no such luck. Often than not, they are sardines in a tin can and feels the air-conditioning when stepping out onto the road only. In the mornings, U Ko Lay always takes a leisurely bath from a iron drum which stores rain water from the roof. However, by the time he gets out of the bus, he usually is smelly from being tightly squeezed and the body odors being passed on to him through contact with clothes of other fellow passengers. Thus, the second pair comes in handy, changed in office and fresh once again before the start of the day. During lunchtime, the office boy would buy moakhingar (fish) gravy only and split the cost three ways between him and two other staff. The rice travels smother down his throat and works out cheaper than steamed beans with fresh oil from home and no hassle of stains on his clothes or his Shan bag.

The gentleman works for a trading company in 35^th Street and got two more years before his retirement, striking sixty. He married late in life, got three children and the eldest is a boy. He sat his matriculation examination in June and found to be quite good in mathematics and chemistry. His wife Su Su, tuition four young lads in mathematics at home. His son must have gotten the mathematics genes from him. His son wants to join the Defense Services Academy (DSA), if he passes, he will get his Bachelor of Science (BSc) degree after four years, and the army will feed and clothe him through out. One less to be concerned about, U Ko Lay sighed a relief. Su Su is the banker and economist at home and he would hand over his monthly salary to her for necessary expenditures. The girls are fourteen and thirteen years of age, they are a great help at home. Cooking, cleaning and all washing ups are done by them. At school, they are managing well and nothing to be worried about, until their matriculation year, that is.

This Macchi is not a tigress, but a true human tiger, working as best as he could to fend for his family. U Ko Lay tries best not to step on anybody’s toes, and he would carry on his earnings until his last dying breath. Up till now, thank god the money he and his wife is earning proves to be sufficient to run the household presently. They owed nothing and no debts. Lucky in that sense, he supposes. At work, he is in charge of documents, meaning he handles Letter of Credits, Bills of Ladings, Stamp Duties, Delivery Notes and Dock receipts etc etc. In his line of work, he sometimes needs to entertain Port and Bank people, and it would be his breakfast or tea, as the case maybe. The main thing is to fill his stomach, which is saving him money. At times, the shipping lines would entertain him with lunch or dinners which he accepts after due consideration as he does not want any sort of commitments. On such occasions, U Ko Lay would leave the top of his tiffin box open, so the rice won’t go bad and takes it back home in the evenings for consumption. The company trusts him and he did not want anything to jeopardize his position. After all, this is his life. Once a year, the company would arrange a staff holiday depending on the overall performance. The trip might be to a seaside resort or a mountain getaway for a few days. U Ko Lay then would arrange for the family to join, paying for their share of expenses, as it would be at a discounted rate and could not have sponsored or afford on his own. This is once every two years or so affair, depending on his household yearly expenditures managed by his wife Su Su.

While on the bus, walking to work in town, or around his house, U Ko Lay noticed young men and women of today, in their trendy styles going about their ways are not to his expectations. The young men would sport hairstyles similar to their idols in the west. Very short sides and Elvis style tops, it looked like mops placed on their heads. Clothes wise, very tight trousers and shirts and looks like they just returned from Ethiopia and in need of an urgent meal. No more manly with broad shoulders, but more of a skeleton similar to a pencil stick. While the female counterparts in dresses resembling to what they saw in Korean soap operas broadcasted by the national television. They are neither here or there. Half Korean, half Myanmar, and don’t know half what. They must have spent a bomb on clothes. How can they seduce the businesses to hire them, he’s at a loss.  U Ko Lay thanked god that his son or daughters are not following them in their footsteps. In the land of Ranthambore, he is sure that the tigers would have devoured the lot of them. On second thought they might not, due to their appearance, even tigers might not touch them with a barge pole. It must be his advancing age, as his eyes are not too kindly on them. He would discuss with his wife Su Su on the younger generation, she just shrug it off and said that they would outgrow it with time. Real optimist.

Macchi would teach her offspring how to hunt and in keeping of a good mother was beside them all the time, chaperoning for a period over twelve months. She would play with her offsprings and also shield them from harm’s way. According to the programme what U Ko Lay saw, Ranthambore National Park in northern India, in the district of Sawai Madhopur in southeastern Rajasthan, is a haven for tigers. For him, his district of Thaketa is surely not a paradise, but rather a place of necessity, up to the only level he could afford. Standing outside the house, he would say to himself, how many people can afford and pay for their own piece of land, or, own their own house today? He is lucky to have a place to call his own. This would put a smile on his face and he would feel content. The eldest boy already left for DSA in Pyin Oo Lwin and the house feels a bit empty, but its all the best for him. The Army will make a man out of him and a life long career he’ll be happy with.  U Ko Lay must at least try to hold on for another five years, till his eldest daughter graduates. Meantime, he tells them both, education is important in life. Not only will it open doors of opportunity, but it also teaches one to think. Once a mistake, reversing is no more an option, especially for girls.

U Ko Lay has a eleven inch China made television set at home. The women of the household enjoys the Korean sit-coms with Myanmar dubbed dialogs or with Myanmar subtitles, every evening, and it make him pleased to see that they all are happy. The most he does is watch the news around nine p.m, and afterwards meditate in the bedroom for his peace of mind and his salvation. While dinner, he would tell his daughters not to rush into boys. His motto is education first, than boyfriend(s) and marriage later on. The right age for marriage is around twenty and twenty three, when the mind is fully matured. The eldest girl sets her mind to be a high school teacher and would pursue for her Bachelor of Education (Bed) degree. She does not mind moving from one town to another, in fact she looks forward to it. To her, that is the only way to see the country, she said. The young one does not know what she would like to do, but is very much attached to him and his wife. He thinks she would rather be a spinster and always stay beside mother and father. Mind you, she is bright and U Ko Lay is confident that she would pass the matriculation examination in a single stroke. The more he sees of those young generation in hairs of blond, brown, streak of purple, pink and orange, sends shivers down his spine. He just felt sorry for their parents.

The rain had come and gone. The months from November to February are the best four months of the year. The weather is dry and cool without humidity. Mornings are misty and the afternoon temperature hovers around twenty to twenty seven degrees Fahrenheit and comes down when the sun is no more. Evenings temperatures are crisp and cool. At times, one might even need a light blanket to keep warm and sleep. Flowers bloom and new crop of rice are showing up in the markets. At home, they tend to wake up a little bit later, due to the coolness, but never late for their chores. U Ko Lay still get up around six a.m, and take his usual bath around seven. The water in the iron drum is no more with rain water, but the girls do top it up with well water. He now takes his bath by the well, so that the girls need not top up the iron drum. The well water is not as sweet and soft as rain water, but what to do? He is just happy that he need not buy water like other households. There is no running water in their house, but the well serves its purpose. After sometime, they all got used to it. At least they got electricity when the Electricity Department decides to distribute it.

Hot season months from March to June are sizzling and has it’s own problems. The temperature is in the high thirties Fahrenheit and sometimes goes above forty. It’s so hot, they do not know when and where to sleep. The girls do not complain, they just live with it. U Ko Lay and his wife Su Su would spend the evenings outside in their small courtyard, in the dark, until they cannot hold up their heads anymore. They then would rush inside, the tiredness coupled with sleepiness does the rest till early next morning. It must be the season for mosquitoes as their pickings must be quite good and bountiful. Some evenings, the family would proceed up to Shwe Dagon Pagoda and pick a quiet spot and sit there till the gates closing time. Up on the Shwe Dagon hill, the evening breeze is cooler than home. At work, the office temperature is bearable with air-conditioning, however still suffers during times of electricity outages.

U Ko Lay is waiting for the bonus payment period, so that he can buy two China made electric fans, one for the girls and one for them. Presently, it’s the courtesy of hand held weaved bamboo and palm leaves fans. Electricity consumption is nil. His eldest boy is doing well in Pyin Oo Lwin, as no news is good news. Macchi, the tigress may be able to find a cool spot by the lakeshore, but here in Thaketa, there is no escaping, hot and humid everywhere. People wait and long for the monsoon rains to come and soak the land plus its surroundings, to make it cool once again.

Until then, U Ko Lay is still galloping along and earning money for his family. His girls still continue doing their chores without any complaints. His wife Su Su continues to manages the household. Macchi might be fending for herself in old age, but for this aging gentleman, he still tries to keep the family going with his salary and Su Su’s tuition fees. Like everything in life, the good never come alone on itself, it is always accompanied with the bad. Rains are threatening and the clouds are gathering and slowly turning dark. The winds are also picking up, at times with a warning of thunder. However, the mangoes are plentiful and cheap in the markets. So cheap that should some fruits suffer from a slight mark or dent, the vendors throw them away. Even the stray dogs would not eat them.

The girls lay down small blocks of bricks as stepping stone from the house entrance right up to the gate. Their small wooden house is built on stlits like most in the district. The outside toilet is also built on stilts with a small platform made with bamboo connecting to the house. By the surge of a strong monsoon, their small yard will turn into a sea of brown water and the house will also resemble Noah’s ark. The monsoon rains maybe hard to bear, but it is the source of life to paddy fields and plants, which they so much depended on.

The sparrows are making their nests between the beams of the roof with dry grass, they seems to know the rains are imminent. Jackfruits are back in season and can be spotted on their trees, which should make good picking for their owners. Su Su wipes the cow webs from his retired umbrella under the bed and to be put back into active service yet again, while the girls are cleaning their plastic slippers to be ready, in anticipation for the coming rain. The slippers make a noise when walking, but they do not slip or loose their shape. The galvanized tin roof is still strong for a few more monsoons. U Ko Lay is very much the male Macchi of his family.

The southwesterly monsoon is for sure arriving soon. It is after all, the circle of life. 

World's oldest profession

Gladys is eighteen years of age. God was kind enough to give her a body, which is worthy of a princess in fairy tales. She was born in Golborne, a coal-mining town in Lancashire, between Manchester in the West, and Liverpool in the East.  Once a booming industrial working class area, until ten miners died out of eleven in the mine, due to a methane explosion on 18^th March 1979, from an electrical spark in the colliery. The Bonk colliery was closed around 1989 which caused loss of majority jobs in Golborne, spreading to surrounding towns of Abram, Lowton and Ashton-in-Makerfield. It was a bad time for all. Gladys was born to James and Margret Lewiston, and father, James passed away due to a bad case of tuberculosis just before the Bonk colliery closure. Mother, Margret Lewiston stayed on, due no proper education and did not know where to turn. Or maybe, also due to the loss of her regular income, she turned to Gin, the strong stuff.  After sometime, Gin became her friend, and would drown her sorrows until she is no more herself. Budding Gladys also was not too bright in mind, and school was a pastime like the other similar children. After sourcing consultation from her peers, she decided to leave Golborne for nearby Manchester, to seek greener pastures. Without educational qualifications, there was not much to do, except be a checkout counter assistant at Tesco. The income was not enough to pay for her digs, let alone food. She has been noticing that men would give her the eyes with their mouth relishing with saliva dropping. This prompted Gladys to let men touch her in pubs, for a small amount of money to earn for her meals and a few drinks as investment for the future. She is not a drinking girl like her mother.

Gladys thought long and hard, with no qualifications, and no skills to speak of, yet she knows money is to be made for food and shelter. She could not go back to her mother, as fending for herself is a difficulty, nor does she know of any grandparents for help. It was hard, yet a decision got to be made for her survival. It was no easy feat, mentally or physically. Offering one’s body is the last thing she wants to do, and how to get out of it once drifted into that profession. What had she done to deserve this? Why was she chosen to be the unlucky one? Gladys asked herself a thousand and one questions, with no real answers to satisfy her. Gladys cried and cried, till there were no more tears left in her eyes. There were no more options. Survivability is her only answer. God and her parents gave her the necessary tools, so she got to make good use with the body she’s got.

 

With time, it gave her courage to invite men to her digs, for extra curriculum activities, which yielded more than her Tesco job. She than realized, that her budding physique might prove useful in earnings more than the girls from nine to five jobs. Regretfully, the landlady soon figured it out, and gave marching orders to her by end of the week. Gladys manage to secure a substitute digs in a housing block at no.51 Litcham Close, near the town’s center. However, she is finding it hard to bring back clients to her digs, as she is much afraid that the landlady might kick her out again. This do happen, due they also do not want to be labeled operating a house of ill repute. Quite understanding. After being in the business for a couple of months, Gladys now uses an alias. Thus, her trade name became Vicki Carter, and people in her line of business would address her as such. Gladys guard her private life and name with utmost secrecy. Her profession and private life is kept separately at all times. Her new landlady also knows her only as Vicki Carter, but due to difficulty in bringing clients back, she has pooled together with other working girls, a small room on third floor building at Gore Street, in the red light district of Piccadilly. This way, her cover can be kept separate, difficulty solved. The only problem being the common toilet is on the first floor. Vicki kept an account with Barkley’s Bank in her original name of Gladys Lewiston. All documents relating to the bank account is kept separately in a post office box and all mails in her original name also directed there. She makes it a point to visit the post office box, once every two weeks, and takes care that she is not followed or she be wearing reviling clothes. This is her only guarantee in life and ultimate secrecy is strictly observed. She does not carry or keep anything at her digs, evidence relating to Gladys Lewiston. This true identity of hers is the passport back to the real world. Vicki Carter is finding it hard to keep her clients, due to high competition in the trade. Besides, in Manchester, men are not too liberal with money. Working late hours also created prowling eyes at her digs in Litcham Close, and that is not good for her cover and long-term business.

One day, Carol, her associate in the trade told her that she would be moving to London. Carol’s reason was two fold. One, her young daughter is growing up fast and wanted to move to a town where she is totally unknown. Two, business competition is getting tougher in Manchester red light area. Besides, men were spending less and the market is not too inviting or expanding. Vicki asked Carol whether she could join her, as she also wanted to disappear from this area too. It was all settled at last, within two weeks, they would call it quits in Manchester. All accounts and money matters were settled, and Vicki would not ask Carol about anything private, as it’s not done, and none of her business at that. Vicki did not have much items, it was just one plain backpack, no more, no less. Carol with her young daughter had three suitcases, quite understandable. They both informed their business associates, working girls in Piccadilly, they are proceeding to Glasgow to start afresh there. Vicki also said her salutations to her landlady, and told her that she is moving to Glasgow to join her sister there. Vicki needs to have an amicable departure, so keep the door ajar, as she does not know what awaits her, in the new land.

Carol and daughter plus Vicki were at Manchester Piccadilly train station by seven in the morning, they purposely took the wrong train from Manchester to Glasgow, so that any prowling eyes would see them board a train bound for Scotland. Nothing can be trusted and left to chance in their line of business. Once onboard the train and journey commenced, they informed the conductor that they boarded the wrong train, as they wanted to proceed to London and showed their tickets. The conductor was an understanding man, and would personally place them on the correct train once arrived at Glasgow Central. The journey to Glasgow was around three hours plus. At Glasgow Central, they re-boarded a train bound for London. The journey south took around five hours. On arrival at London Euston railway station, they first made a quick dash for an economical bed and breakfast place around Bayswater, inner West London area. Once checked in, both Carol and Vicki started flat hunting armed with a free local newspaper. By the next afternoon, they found adjacent flats at no.18 Ingasoll Road, walking distance from Shepherd’s Bush Market underground station. It was in a house owned by a Pakistani landlord, and they drew up a yearly tenant agreement with monthly advance rental payments from the date they move in, and a month advance notice of eviction. He enquired their occupations, and both stated that they just came in from Glasgow, seeking positions in advertising. He seemed not too interested in what they had to say, and was only being sympathetic, sparing his ear and rather more eager to secure his monthly advance rent. They were to drop their monthly advance rental envelopes, always in cash into the house’s letter box and he in turn would do the same for his receipts. The landlord and his family occupied the ground floor, while Carol and Vicki flats were on the first. Carol’s flat was one bedroom with sitting room, bathroom, kitchen and a small hallway overlooking the street below. Vicki’s flat was a studio, meaning the bedroom is also the sitting room, which also doubles as a kitchen, while the attached bathroom looked new with shower attached, which Vicki liked.  She needs to clean herself after work, as she felt dirty and must be showered and scrubbed religiously before bed, each night. The view from her window is an overgrown, weeded backyard, nothing worthy of mention.

The next morning, while Carol enrolled her daughter in a local secondary school, about ten minutes walking distance from her flat, Vicki attended to her financial matters. She managed to secure a post office box and number, near Paddington Station, about fifteen minutes brisk walk, from the station. Her bank account was transferred to the Barkley’s Bank branch near Paddington Station, also for convenience. As usual, Vicki kept all her personal things and documents there, and she carried and kept nothing that would link her to the personal and private P.O. Box. All settled, Vicki scouted their living area and found it to be cosmopolitan. Indians, Chinese, Greeks, Russians, West Indians and also a few English people plus Europeans are around Shepherd’s Bush Market area. Nobody was interested in her and looked as though no one will even spare the time of the day. Vicki preferred it that way, and to be totally indifferent to the surroundings. After two days, all were fully arranged and they also registered with a local General Practitioner  (GP), four streets down, for unforeseen medical attention and consultation. Continuous health is a must in their line of work. Survivability, you know.  

Carol and Vicki supported their local Safeway supermarket on the high street, and stocked necessary food items such as bread, butter, milk, eggs, jams and some ready to eat tins, sauces plus spaghettis and instant noodles. Carol also taught her young daughter, if hungry, to make sandwiches while she is away. After all said and done, it was time to scout and feel the business temperature. They took a tube ride to Leicester Square and checked out the Soho district. They found it to be jam packed with competition, similar to Manchester Piccadilly area but just more intense, and they indentified that other areas imperatively needed to be looked at. They both toured and walked leisurely all around. After much investigation, in the Mayfair area, they found Shepherd Market. Carol and Vicki felt that this is a high class area, full of private clubs, rich foreigner residences, top hotels, offices, embassies and a thriving night life too. This widened their eyes and did a more detailed study of the area in question, which is served by Green Park and Hyde Park Connor tube stations. Shepherd Market looked niche and the competition is not heavy as heavy in Soho district. Vicki and Carol were more interested in quickie businesses and unable give time to long tedious arrangements. In Shepherd Market, they spotted a black girl by the name of Chocolate and had a drink together at the Bull’s Head, discussing business climate and matters relating to their trade.

Carol, Vicki and Chocolate came to an agreement to share a room for their profession in the market, which would work out cheaper for all of them. They found consensus in a third (top) floor room in the market mews, a well-known haunt for men seeking short time enjoyment. The bathroom is on the same level, but to be shared with second floor tenants. They worked out a simple system, whereby should the call bell light be on, signifying vacancy and off means the room is busy. Carol, Vicki and Chocolate, each would have a key to the room. Usage of room should be not more than thirty minutes each session and the room comes with lockers and a mirror, where they can transform themselves into a luscious lady of the night or day, for that matter. They could also use the premises as a changing room before their journey back home.  Chocolate is willing to fork out a bit more, as she also will be working night shifts. This suited Carol and Vicki just fine, their intention is to work from eleven in the morning to seven in the evening, Tuesday to Saturdays, five days a week with Sunday and Mondays off.  Carol cooks a savory meal for Sunday evening dinners, it usually is roasted lamb chops, pork or beef served with two kind of fresh vegetables and spuds. Vicki would share the cost of preparing the meal. Vicki enjoys the long Sunday dinners, it’s the only family atmosphere she had ever known. They would empty pots after pots of tea and horse around with Carol’s daughter, after which joke and laugh through the night watching television. Next day being Monday, their day off also, would get up late and catch up on their washings and housework’s.  For the rest of the week, Vicki will have her Korean instant noodles or baguette with cup soups or spaghettis with ready-made meat sauce, or simply sandwiches with hot tea. She has to maintain her figure, as it’s her selling point and what’s bringing in the bacon. Both would don on their baggy jeans and out of shape jumpers, together with simple hairstyles, that they cannot be recognized as Vicki and Carol, who does the beat around Mayfair and Shepherd Market. They prefer it this way, always keeping their professional and private lives separate. Vicki goes as far as to speak with a cockney accent while soliciting, and leave her Lancashire accent behind.

Both Carol and Vicki would change into their professional outfits on arrival at their third floor room in Shepherd Market, revealing most part of their breasts and sporting a tight dress or skirt is their statement. They would touch up and paint their faces as though going out for a photo shoot, and Vicki would also slip on a blond wig to entice her clients. One thing is to be sure, they do not look or resemble the timid country girls living in Shepherd Bush. They would do their beat together or separately as the business dictates. Their trademark is swinging their keys for the world to see, with their most revealing clothes. During winter, they would wear a long coat with their front open for the men to catch their eyes. In our age of technology, both carry a cell-phone each. They would advertise their services also their telephone numbers pinned onto telephone booths around Mayfair, knowing full well that’s being illegal. Even though, prostitution is legal in the United Kingdom, soliciting in public places is not, they are very much aware of this and would try to step with caution. Vicki normally would entice the likely client to a nearby coffee shop and watch for the owner or waiters reactions. If they happen to be the law, the coffee shop would signal to her and she would not solicit for business. This friendship comes with umpteenth cups of tea patronage at theirs, and after sometime, they know them well and they also know the cafes and shops. It’s you scratch my back and I scratch yours, world.

Lunch is also in the market cafes and cafeterias. With seeing the faces, week in and week out, all would fend for each other backs, business thrives because of people like them also. Fridays are good pickings for the office work force, some would venture after being paid, while others would require their services before proceeding to their homes and wives, after work. Most of the office workers requiring their services are men around fiftyish, seldom or never young men. Maybe their wives are no more able to satisfy their urges, still, none of their businesses. Should you see them on the tube, they are like faultless kittens, would never even hurt a fly. The irony is most shocking. Tuesday to Thursday and Saturdays seems to be mainly foreigners. They are mostly Middle Eastern gentlemen, just letting out their pressures while being away from home. There are some Europeans and a few from the States, but they are mostly one time off guys, just out to taste the flavours of London. Middle Eastern gentlemen on the other hand, would make regular visits, however, they are more of Chocolate’s clients. You see, Arab gentlemen, they have the money.

Vicki is always careful, aware of Aids, Venereal Decease and Herpes, that she carries at least a dozen condoms in her handbag. She first visually inspects before engaging in any business, and careful to be fully protected, and religiously wash afterwards. Bare rides are totally forbidden by her, no matter the amount of cash offered. Her health and staying alive is more important. All other additional are charged according their established tariffs, which they informed the clients in advance. Otherwise, just pump away and be done with, the quicker the better. The main thing is for their cash register to keep ringing all the time. Vicki has been lucky up to now and not been picked up by the police, she also wants to keep it that way, off the record books. She is also aware that according to the laws of averages, she for sure will be hand cuffed up by the long arm of the law, sooner or later. It’s just a matter of time.

Vicki also realized that her profession ages their bodies much faster than normally, and has to think seriously whether it’s about time she gave it up while the going is good, and step back into the real world. Her savings are still not enough to buy a house outright yet, however, for sure much better off than girls from nine to five jobs. This made her smile. During all this time, she has been eyeing the Evening Standard, situation wanted columns, and appeared for a position as caretaker in a housing complex around Kilburn. The pay is pittance compared to her present income, however, it does come with free accommodation on the ground floor with electricity and gas, plus only a five days’ week job. In short, she nailed the job which to start from beginning of the following month. She served her thirty days notice to the Mr. Jinnah, the landlord while her soliciting continued. After their usual Christmas exchange of gifts and gathering between Carol, her daughter and herself, Vicki bids her bye byes for the last time and moved out of her studio flat in Shepherd’s Bush area for good.

The caretaker job starts from 2^nd January as 1^st being a holiday. The position of caretaker is at Templar House at Shoot-Up Hill, which is a multi-floor complex and about a minute walk from Kilburn tube station. Vicki Carter is no more, one chapter closed, dead and buried for good, as far as she is concerned. From henceforth, she is Gladys Lewiston yet once again, no need to hide and is thoroughly happy to be back into the sunshine once again. Gladys’s caretaker apartment is somewhat similar a studio flat, one room serving as bedroom, sitting cum dining room, and kitchen all rolled into one. Beside the cooker, they did supply a tiny fridge, which is nice Gladys thought. The shower and loo room is also attached, even though quite small. Her apartment is beside the main entrance and can also observe the lobby with a single lift. She supposed it must be the reason for having the caretaker room there in the first place.

Gladys job is quite simple. Keep all the common areas clean and to make sure lights are always working in the passageways. Should lights need replacing, just to call the maintenance chaps. As for the lift, she is to call the Lucky Gold Star people. An attachment to an outside telephone line saves her a few bob also. She needs to make sure the rubbish chute area is clean, and must prepare that all the thrown out items are in black plastic bags inside the dustbins, ready for collection by the dustmen in the mornings. It does not take rocket science to do the job. With all that under control, she enjoys her long hot shower before turning in for the night. Her room is central heated and cozy as far as she is concerned. Best of all is, Gladys is able to have a proper night sleep without worrying about the law or anybody else for that matter. Free, free at last.

One day, while she was cleaning the passage way on the forth floor, out came Mr. Brent Shaw from 0405 and spoke to her in an inquisitive manner.

He said, "What in the name is a nice young thing like you working as a caretaker here?"

She smilingly replied, "Security and lodging is important for a girl, don’t you think? "

Mr. Brent Shaw smiled back, locked his door and rushed to the waiting lift.

That late evening, he knocked on her door and asked, "Fancy a late night drink?"

She coolly replied, "It’s late and I’m ready for bed."

End of conversation and subject closed.

Seasons withered and time clocked on by, but they did manage to get quite close.  He would fly out every two weeks or so, as he worked in the offshore oil business. Mr. Brent Shaw would leave his apartment keys with her, so that she can enter and clean the apartment while he is abroad. For that, a small sum is payable to her. During evenings and on weekends, Gladys works for Tesco on Kilburn High Road, thus her three incomes amounted to a tidy little sum, not to mention she was able also to secure Tesco stamps and food at a discount. The money in her deposit account at Barkley’s Bank is growing slowly too. This she never touches, which is meant for real emergencies. Money wise, she is not doing too bad, thank you very much! Gladys has hardly any free time left these days and she prefers it that way, because she needs to be occupied throughout, and any balance time remaining is bedtime only. Now she hardly watches television, but do read newspapers she cleans out from the rubbish bins, when sitting on the throne. Gladys is thinking of trying out the Daily Mail quick crossword one of these days, she believes she should be up to it. 

Mr. Bob Brent Shaw is around forty, single and with no regular girlfriend or boyfriend as far as Gladys can make out. He’s a simple quiet man, keeps to himself, no drinking bouts and on someday listens to classical music. She herself is twenty-five now, and high time to seek for a life’s partner, if she can find one. She does realize that she is not getting any younger, and the profession she had aged her at least by three years, everything takes its toll, no getting round it. Gladys likes Bob and he likes her in return too. She must clear each hurdle and check him out thoroughly, before any drastic decisions. Bob do not care about her past nor does not ask either.

While enjoying a drink one evening in the neighborhood pub, he commented, "There’s something about you that you are not saying, not that I’m inquisitive. Only thing is, as long as you are not on the opposite side of the law or been in prison, I’m okay."

Gladys coolly replied, " No, I’ve never been in prison nor the police are looking for me, either. That’s the god’s honest truth."

Then she continued, "Don’t ask silly questions which does not concern you, and I will tell you no lies."

Bob Brent Shaw liked her Lancashire accent and said, "I may have to move out to Dubai for one or two years, interested?"

Gladys Lewiston need seriously think about his offer while she does not mind older men. This would mean cutting all ties with Golborne, Manchester and London, it sounds rather tempting. Worth thinking seriously, she thought. This would be has to be her million dollar answer. Got to be careful, though.

While curling her glass of orange in her hand, she chuckled and replied, "Are you proposing to me?"

Family, relatives & friends

One does not need anybody as we sail through life, maybe your life’s partner, if we have one. This is how most sees and accept it. I happen to be one of them and did abide by it religiously. We just continue to do our own thing, does not offend anybody nor step on their toes. When a party invades your space, we would strike them down and cut them, so onlookers are aware of our capabilities, and realize what would be in store for them, should they cross that line. That is, if you do not become bed ridden. Even then, we would try our best to prod along like a wounded dog, trying to make it, on our own. Some would loose out and depart for another plane, if life after death exist, while others still tries to cling on and try to make it. Ashamedly admitted, that I am one of them.

When we pass the threshold of sixty years, invariably some kind of health problem or another, would accompany us, whether we like, want it or otherwise. For some, it might be financial, while others, it maybe changes in life style, where acceptance in reality becomes hard to bear. I have a dear friend who built a up his home as best as he could, forfeiting himself and throws everything he’s got for the betterment of his family. A true martyr one might say, but life in return, has not been that understanding to him. I know of another, who tried his best to remain in his shining tower, but once we crossed that threshold, we just have to accept it humbly and let others soldier on. No use crawling back up the castle walls again, we will just fall harder to the ground. Life is at times is like a chameleon, it may show one thing, while the reality is another. Another friend identified reality and faced the facts of life, modest in his living and humble on his thoughts, however was picked up by the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse. Another dear couple, both retired, and life has treated them well. Health problems were too minor to mention and also financially sound, however regretfully faced other family issues, one could not expect likely to happen. Another acquaintance of high standing and office, with a nice family, financially sound, fell from grace and finds it hard to accept reality. For them, money was not a criteria, nor their health, but what they wanted most was, position and status, to march on forward in the rat race. It seems as though friends also do suffer, and I cannot rely on them fully for my answer towards my salvation.

One thing which is crystal clear to me, is that, we cannot get old, retain our status or position, good health, with no family issues or face financial breakdowns. Something for sure will have to give way. I have never heard for someone to get old, healthy, and wealthy with no outstanding issues. From the outside looking in, it is rather a rare case, to be that good or lucky. I wonder who can help us get away from our sufferings.

As for me, I got sick and bed ridden. Doctor friends and career acquaintances together with people I’ve known, did rally round my sick bed, but it’s us, and we alone must overcome this hurdle. While some are lucky, others are not so. For me, it was a bittersweet experience. Bitter in the sense, my sickness if caught within three hours, could have been reversed, and I did that not. Sweet in the sense that, my working son abroad, manages to drag me on a plane bound for Singapore and sort out any issues there. In Singapore, one needs to pay for the level of care that we desire. My son had enough money and retained enough in Central Provident Fund (CPF) to address my sickness. It is surely a sweet and kind gesture, while some are not that lucky to experience this, due to lack of funds. My wife beside me showered all the care, while my son arranged for the best medical attention money can buy, of course, within reason. I could not ask for more. Friends, some I did not expect, shouldered responsibilities for which I cannot thank them enough. Friends and family are a great source to lean on.

I do have two elder siblings, both of whom are girls, women now, more correctly, old ladies, today. They live their own lives and we are not on speaking terms. It all started when I was about nineteen, a young aspiring mercantile marine officer, serving with the national shipping line. The younger of the elder sister told me that she was getting married soon, and as per mother’s wishes, she will be taking over the present premises and I am permitted to lodge, should I so desire. I believe this was an one-way street type of statement, after all, we are a sibling of three and should have discussed it together. That point in time, the eldest sister was already married to an Army Officer, and was living in an apartment, on their own. However, I did move out voluntary, and stayed onboard. If posted ashore, kipped at my eldest sister husband brother’s place.  Since then, our communication became severed. Furthermore, after mother passed away, her saving of jewelries, were roughly valuated by my uncle and eldest nephew of my mother. Sounds quite fair on face value. But when the time came for actual distribution, one sister would say, this set is not to be counted or valued, as mother said it was meant for her. Come another set, the other sister would comment the same. Each would second the other comments. Share we did, on what’s left of it, and was asked to sign the distribution. I made no protests, as the votes were always going to be two to one, and the umpires may have been a wee bit biased too, but who’s to tell. I was extremely upset, however, as there was nothing much I could do, I just let the distribution be concluded. Please note, there was nothing in writing about allocations, except their words, vouching for each other. I realized that blood is thicker than water, but when it comes to selfish desires, what can I say? Thus, family is also not my salvation to be relied upon, according to my bitter experience, which I rather not share.

Even though ultra displeasure on my side, I let it ride. This distribution made me even stronger in mind, and tried my level best to make something of myself. I started to hit the books and secure more qualifications and save every penny that I could. Life did improve, and even manage to build a house of my own, in a good residential location and have a wonderful family also. With time, the sword of truth did prevailed. Here say of unfairness during the jewelry distribution starts to be heard, this or that set was not included or why a certain set of jewelry, which was not in the distribution and was not returned, after a loan. To top it off, the eldest sister was having a hard time by then. Their oldest son, stole some pieces and while others were lost in gambling and they now reside in my mother’s apartment with the other sister gone and built a house of their own, in town. One day, the eldest sister came to my house, as she wanted me to sign legally, agreeing that, I do so at my free will, that the apartment in question has nothing to do with me from henceforth, in return for a small sum of money. I did endorse the statement so that they can call a place of their own but declined the money. While I was young, I was branded black sheep of our family and generally, no one wished to be associated with me. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I really do not want to be associated or talk to them anymore. No one walked the extra mile nor threw out a lifeline or buoy to a sinking man. I swam, and swam to shore. At the end of the day, I believe that mother did give me her most precious will and testament, that is, she gave me a strong mind and an undying will power, to soldier on to a much better life, worth much more than the jewelry I missed out on.  Thank you mother, thank you very much.

I have a cousin who happens to be quite close to me, she splits her time between Myanmar and The United States, as her health matters can only be addressed there. I do admit that she herself and her family did a lot towards my well-being. She enquired whether I would agree to accept my siblings in my house or able to greet them outside, should I see them, as they are of concern to my health. I humbly replied that, once bitten twice shy. I would let bygones be bygones and do forgive for their wrong doings, whether they wish to admit or otherwise. However, as I am unable to forget, thus better to remain status quo. They can keep their pride for all I care. Peace on earth, for all concerned. Therefore, are relatives the answer to my salvation question? No clear-cut answer there, I’m still pondering.

It just goes to prove that, blood or no blood, selfishness is on case to case basis, which depended on person to person. My motto is, ‘related that we are, but to live our own lives and best be apart far’. At my age, no use looking back or create any more animosity, what’s done is done and let the sleeping dog lie. Such is life, never a smooth sailing. Thus, family seems not the answer I am looking for either.

In Singapore, my hospital room was like Piccadilly Circus, friends from near and far came to support and I do thank them for their undivided concern. Some were like me over sixty, while others were still young. Some entrepreneurs, a few were businessmen, others were old man similar to me with a sick wife at home. Most of all, my wife’s friend, Daw Mu Mu, single and retired, would make it a point to shepherd me throughout. The hospital staff, were caring, a few were Myanmar, which made it more comfortable. The physiotherapists tried to make me well in the shortest possible time. Mr. Siva, Ms.Prima, Dr. Radika, just to name a few. Doctors were also second to none. Dr. K.F. Tang, Dr. Y.T. Lim, Dr. Cheng Jun etc. etc. Good folks all, with a heart of gold. In short, I have seen them all, in life, good and fellow men at their worst.

All I am trying to put across is, we have to take man, as an individual. Not necessarily to be family, relatives or friends. Blood is thicker than water, that is for sure, but it does not mean that they all will be good. There is always a bad apple somewhere, irrespective of relationships. I have seen sons and daughters not really caring, I also have witnessed, sweet from the outside, while their hearts are so dark, even the sun light cannot penetrate. It takes all sorts to make this world go round. Lonely are the Brave, is only a movie, and Kirk Douglas shines only on the silver screen. While we walk our own paths, we do need some help on the way. No need to salaam to all men we see, but to walk strait, keep a good heart, be fair and do not smile and lie. Buddhist religion teaches us, to always abide by the five precepts, do not kill, lie, be a drinker, abstain from adultery and not steal. It sounds rather easy, but most difficult to do 24/7. Every day we are breaking a precept, I think abstaining from lying is the most difficult. My wife even goes further, she forgive the wrong doers and turn the other cheek also. I don’t and cannot do as she does, but I try to be indifferent, as though nothing to do with me. It’s a wrong attitude, but there you are. Still not the right answer, I’m afraid.

I have a Singaporean Chinese friend, who is a true Buddhist, says what he does and does what he says. A true practitioner, live by the scriptures and abide the precepts. I take my hat off to him. I am not half the man he is, admittedly am ashamed also. We are walking through life as though nothing is wrong, in fact, plenty is wrong, we just do not take the time to identify it. Life has a beginning and also an end, we know this, but just don’t put much thought to it. Everyday, we just toil to make a living, buy and or do things for our current desires. This is not wrong, do we must. However, a thought is yet lacking to make us a better person. What to do, where to go, which to eat, how to see, etc. etc., we are so much engrossed in our current desires only. How can we be free of these problems in our modern materialistic society, I ask you? 

The true answer to my salvation seems to be illusive. Fragments of answers, here and there, incomplete, in short. I still needed an answer to my injustice plight and inequality treatment I had sustained. While young, in modern words, was taken for a ride, and at my old age, sickness strikes me. I am sure I have had my fair share of negative experiences, thus began searching for a code of practice, or way of life, to free myself and to lead me to a happier existence, so that I can continue to walk my autumn years into the sunset. A monk guided me to seek my answers in the Four Noble Truths and the Noble Eightfold path, that is the simplest and shortest explanation he could muster.

The Four Noble Truths are all sufferings of sorts. The first, in general, is pain, aging, decease and death. The second is concerning cravings and aversion, while the third is suffering to be overcome through happiness over our useless cravings, and last but not least, the forth is Noble Eightfold path would end all sufferings.

In summary, the Noble 8-fold Path is being moral (through what we say, do and our livelihood), focusing the mind on being fully aware of our thoughts and actions, and developing wisdom by understanding the Four Noble Truths and by developing compassion for others. Great stuff!

The monk preached that this is the only way to overcome our sufferings and live a happier existence. What ever we do in life is a cause and it has an effect, and we are all responsible for our past and present actions. Thus, the reason why some of us are gifted, while others are born handicapped and why some live only a short life, or live long with sufferings. Our actions can be summed up by looking at (1) the intention behind the action, (2) effects of the actions on ourselves, and (3) our actions that causes the effects on others.

Even though maybe a bit late, I am willing to sample his teachings. The monk said that what he explained was not his, but rather the teachings of Lord Buddha. In that case, I know it must be right and true, but rather difficult to practice. Easier said than done. The practice is mine alone, and need not rely on family, relatives and friends, as they are superficial to my ultimate goal. So, it seems, Lonely are the Brave, staring Kirk Douglas, does after all, steps down from the silver screen and from his horse too. The philosophy must be much deeper than this, as it took a total of seven years practice by Lord Buddha, for us motels of today, I beg to wonder how long. I do not say I have found my answer to my salvation, but I am going to give it a real good try.

                                    
I think Ralph Waldo Emerson, famous 19^th century American poet said it quite well in his below poetry

Ne te quæsiveris extra.

Man is his own star; and the soul that can
Render an honest and a perfect man,
Commands all light, all influence, all fate;
Nothing to him falls early or too late.
Our acts our angels are, or good or ill,
Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.

Monastery of teak

As Kun Sa sweep the leaves from the monastery grounds with a coerce bamboo yard broom, he could not help but think about his impending future. It’s been playing up on him, yet again. This will be his third attempt appearing for his matriculation examination. The hurdle is his door to better prospects. By passing, he could continue to study further at university or train to become a primary state schoolteacher. The possibilities and permutations are boundless. The monastery compound is 200 x 200 feet, not too big, however, still hot work under a burning sun at four thirty in the afternoon. He wore a kha mauk, traditional farmer’s hat made of dried palm bark, but the shade to his head does not make the heat anymore bearable.

The village monastery is situated about halfway of Kyauk Tan and Tar Wa railway stations, not too far from the Bago River. On the East, there is the Yangon-Mandalay Highway or National Highway No.1. On the West, still some distance away is the Gulf of Martaban. On the North, lies City of Bago and in the South is Yangon, business capital of Myanmar. Their monastery 50 x 30 feet is just outside of Lan Ywa (village road) Village. The monastery is simply known as Lan Ywa Phonegi Kyaung (Lan Ywa Village Monastery). It is an unofficial seat, where village elders and big-wits congregate with the chief monk, on matters related to the well being of the village. The surrounding plots are mainly paddy fields, with some bamboo buses here and there, and the capital source of income is selling paddy and rice.

The monastery has a total of 10 monks, out of which, one is the chief monk, plus 2 senior monks, and 4 ordinary monks plus 3 novice monks. Kun Sa job, is one of eight helpers, taking care of the kitchen, dining area, shrine room flowers, the compound and also help bring back alms from the village. Each morning, they are trained to be awaken at 4.30 a.m. and prepare the dining hall low tables with breakfast for monks, clear and clean the pots and pans by 5.30 a.m. and make the hall ready for lectures to the ordinary and novice monks by the senior monks. They are lovingly known as monastery students or pupils, in Myanmar language they are termed as phonegyi kyaungtha. Kun Sa and another colleague are out by 6.30a.m, collecting alms from the village and market, in five high food carriers, two each person, plus donations of flowers for Lord Buddha, mostly from the flower sellers. On arriving back at the monastery, all vases are to be cleaned and polished with fresh tamarind from the yard, thence rearrange again with fresh flowers, for Lord Buddha shrine. By 7.30a.m, Kun Sa must be breakfasted and be on his way to school in Bago. He attended the village school for the past two years and the standard of teaching English is much to be desired, thus walking one hour to Bago, where the teaching standard is much higher. He anticipates that he should pass the matriculation examination this third time around. He prayed and hoped.

His farmer father, U Thaw Kaung and mother, Daw Hla Hla, requested the chief monk to take him in, to work there for free, and to school him, as they could not afford, nor able to read and write. Being the eldest, the parents want him to secure some sort of an education, and make a life for himself and carry on the torch of the family. Thus, from the age of twelve, he has been in the monastery, ever since. The monks were good tutors, and with 4 feet cane in their hands, their handwritings and Myanmar language plus spellings skills were second to none. The only thing they lacked was English, which is quite understandable. During the long summer break, he is given the right of passage back to his family. This is a bittersweet experience. Sweet in a sense, to be back with the family once again, however, bitter, as his hands and feet had become soft for the toiling in the paddy fields. 

Kun Sa is the eldest, followed by two sisters, Ma Phyu and Ma Nhaung, ages thirteen and eleven, and the youngest is a boy by the name of Nauk Pauk, age seven. All help father and mother in the paddy fields, in the yard, inside the house, cooking, washing and anything mother sees fit. Kun Sa parents built a small but compact home, better term would be dwelling from bamboo and palm trunk and leaves, as wood is scarce around where they live. Their home is built of large bamboo poles, used as beams, with split bamboo and weaved palm leaves as walls and thatched dry palm leaves for roof. The flooring is split bamboo weaved tightly. The house or dwelling is built on stilts of bamboo beams so that their two buffaloes can be kept underneath, safe from the weather. Their house, home or dwelling, call it what you may, is built by themselves, if lucky, one or two friends would help. The raw material is cut down from nearby bamboo bushes and rebuilt every two years, if his father sees fit for a new dwelling. Kun Sa splits his time between the paddy fields, looking after the buffaloes and selling their milk in the market. It’s a tough life. Food wise, meat is never bought, it’s fish or shrimps if someone can drop by the Bago River, and attend to the traps in the muddy shore. At times, prawns and rats are available from the paddy fields. Otherwise, it’s always vegetables in season, and fermented fish paste called ngapi from the large earthen pots. Very small fishes from the river mixed with salt are pressed and socked in large earthen pots and consumed throughout the year. No or very little oil is used in their cooking, as oil is rather expensive. It can be said that they have a healthy diet. Not of want, but of necessity.    

All cooking utensils, eating plates and dishes are also made from earthenware, raw material by the courtesy of the Bago River muddy shoreline. Cups and drinking containers, are also made from earthenware or bases of large bamboo poles. Light is in the form of an oil lamp, made from buffalo fat, peanut or sesame, pressed on stone grinders for their oils, and the wick, will be from disused clothing. Lamps are used sparingly and only if really necessary. Sleeping time is usually after dinner, just after dusk, and wake up time will be in the early hours, before the sun is up. Tea is always green and plain, however, plentiful, through out the day. Nothing goes to waste at home. Father is thinking of buying a small China made television, if they have a bountiful rice harvest. Electricity can be made available from a car battery through an inverter, which should allow them about two hours of viewing daily, and charging of battery is done at a village battery shop.  

Kun Sa family is of Pa O clan, second largest ethnic tribe in Shan State. In Myanmar, they are said to be around 0.6 to 1.6 million of them living in, Shan, Kayin, Kayar, Mon States and around their Bago Division too. Today, they are found in Mae Hong Son province in Northern Thailand also. Clothes wise, like other Myanmar, Pa O people of today, will wear any styles, however, the tradition for men is to wear indigo dark blue or black baggy Chinese style trousers, sporting a white collarless shirt which is topped with an indigo dark blue or black jacket with opening down the center front, Shan style, plus a turban, when the weather calls for it. As they are of Tibetan-Myanmar stock, fair is the skin, wherever they are, and both men and women carry a bright coloured bag for their knife, utensils or other things of interest.

By March, Kun Sa would return to the monastery and life would be easier than home. Food for sure is incomparable, always better in the monastery. The monastery compound also consisted of a zayat made of teak on slits, a resting place, a pavilion, for weary travelers. Zayats may or may not have walls, and is up to the choice of builders.  In their Lan Ywa Phonegyi Kyaung compound, zayat is about 20 x20 feet, hall with walls. Kun Sa, one day, met a weary cooking oil merchant sheltering from the blazing sun in the zayat, he is about seventy, graying, thin old man without teeth. He is on the way to the market, the next morning, to sell his cooking oil.  He explained how this monastery was started. The monastery land itself was donated by a local Pa O landowner, establishing a religious center around this region. The chief monk is also from a Pa O ethnic tribe, from Taunggyi area, on a missionary trip, who decided to anchor his roots here. The other monks are from Bago and Yangon areas, found solace here and decided to come under the chief monk. Teak planks for the construction is donated by the public, and the actual work is also done free of charge by the people around here. The Pa O are renowned for building pagodas, their labour was in the form of Dana (donation), to gain merits. It took over a year to construct, and the teakwood were of best quality.  There used to be a large teak forest around thirty years ago, and the trees were so thick, that one cannot see the sunlight through the branches. Someone, somehow, somewhere, must have sold, and there is not a single tree left today.

"It’s really sad to see our national heritage being plundered, as it takes around half a century for a teak tree to be fully matured", the old man said. He continued, " This monastery is totally run by donations, and a kapiya (person handling money, free of charge) is the authority on dispensation of money, as monks are not allowed to even touch cash."

Furthermore, they are allowed to keep not more than three robes for themselves. Now, Kun Sa understood better on the running of their monastery.

Next early morning, as the hollowed tree is struck, a wake up call at 4.30 a.m., the old man with a split bamboo pole on his shoulder, balancing the cooking oil tins at each end, made his way to the market, and Kun Sa continued his routines. The zayat is used as a place for congregation, and precepts are given by the chief monk on each Sabbath day. It is also used as a meditation center for the village.

On Den See Lar Bway, Pa O National Day, which falls on the full moon of Tabaung, in March, celebrations are arranged at the monastery grounds. There, he first met Nan Aye Mya (loosely to mean miss coolness), in her dark black indigo loose shift sleeveless blouse and matching longyi with a bright colouful headdress. Kun Sa found her to be magnetic, irresistible, beautiful and sophisticated under the evening sun.

He built up a courage and talked to her, "I’m Kun Sa, from this monastery, appearing again for matriculation examination this year."

She countered, “I’m Nan Aye Mya, daughter of U Thaung and Daw Than Hla."

He continued, "May I escort you around as I am from here, and can explain a few things."

She replied smilingly, "If you wish, but I must return home by 9.00 p.m."

After establishing pleasantries, they both wandered around the stalls and pwe (show) areas. He found out that she lives about twenty minutes walk from the monastery, on the path to Bago town and an only daughter of her family. She is seventeen and available. Now, Kun Sa will have something to look forward to, on his way to Bago and also on his return. He would smile when he catches her eyes, under the stern cold stare of her mother.

Kun Sa took his matriculation examination again during middle of March, and this time he found the English subject not as bad as previous years. Other subjects were acceptable in his opinion. He said to himself, this would be his last and final attempt. Should he fail again, he will return to his home and help his father in the paddy fields. Three attempts should be more than enough.

During Thingyan, water festival period in April, he put aside thoughts on his matriculation examinations taken, and concentrated poring water on Nan Aye Mya, and would return back, time and again.

She commented, " Kun Sa, you are back again, still not yet satisfied to pour water on me?"

He replied, " I can never have enough of you, as this is the time where no one is supposed to get angry, I am exercising my rights."

With that he would pour water slowly on her while brushing her hand with his, ever so softly.

When the rains finally came in June, he would escort Nan Aye Mya to Bago market. On the way, where there are puddles, he would hold her hand timidly while she jumps over it. This would send shivers up and down his spine. He just hoped that there would be more puddles, large enough to hold her in his arms. By third week of June, he already knew of the matriculation results were posted on No.1 State High School (SHS) notice board. There was no urgency on his part and just viewing, for viewing sake alone, no more. His roll number and name was on the list. He looked again, this time with full concentration. Yes, he passed, however, without any distinctions. In short, he just scrapped through.

Kun Sa, informed the monastery, also his parents and told them that he decided to be a teacher in the village state school, to be close to the family. His father and mother were very proud to have someone in the family passing the matriculation. He would continue for his degree through evening college. The monastery was happy for him, but it was high time he vacated his lodging there and to make room.

Next time he escorted Nan Aye Mya to Bago market, he casually said, "I passed my matriculation exam."

She smiled and said, "Congratulations, I suppose you will now move to the city to pursue your degree?"

He replied, "Actually no, I intend to be a primary teacher in the village state school."

She looked puzzled and said, "Why?"

To which he replied, "I want to be near you, for always."

She just continued to walk, after a few minutes she said, "I only passed the ninth standard."

He smiled and replied, "That does not worry me."

So the subject was closed.

Kun Sa continued to see Nan Aye Mya, and the whole village knew that they were going steady. He got a job as a primary school teacher and they let him stay behind the classrooms, in a disused storeroom, as he is single, besides, the village is also gaining a permanent primary teacher. Lunch is in the village food stall and dinner is as usual at the monastery. The rice was leftover from monks ‘soon’ (lunch) and dishes were all mixed with added rice powder to make it thick with gravy. The monastery let him have dinner for free, as he conduct tuition at the zayat, with any monastery helpers attending, would be on free of charge. His salary plus the tuition fees was enough to support a small amount to his father and mother monthly. His desire for Nan Aye Mya never died.

One evening in May, while the girls bathe by the river, he spied Nan Aye Mya from the bushes secretly, and noted that she was fair, slim, firm in body with sufficient breasts and with long black hair, all in a height of about five foot six . The more he sees, the more he wants her. After all, she’s nearly eighteen and at an age for marriage. He maybe called a dirty old man, but he wanted just to appreciate her beauty in the flesh, before the big day, and confirm his thoughts with reality. This being the only chance Kun Sa will have, and the actual sight more than confirmed his thoughts. The girls continued to bathe happily.

Kun Sa went with his parents went to Nan Aye Mya house one evening, and asked her hand in marriage to him. They took about four days and the decision was, they would respect Nan Aye Mya’s words. She said our wishes would be granted in a few months. All very blurred, but to mean affirmative. At least, he is now able see her officially and need not worry about her parents.

To see her, in a Pa O traditional indigo outfit, is like a mermaid clad in outer casing of black, where real beauty is shrouded. This is unless the black casing is removed, one realize that the mermaid inside, in the flesh, is a desirable creature, waiting to be loved. Kun Sa will wait to undo the outer casing himself later. Till then, he needs to build a house in the village, with two bedrooms. It will be in the traditional style, built on stilts, with bamboo and palm leaves. The additional bedroom will come in handy for future occupation.

He also intends to open a paan stall, selling also cigarettes, cheroots and sweets plus small tit-bits. Nan Aye Mya should able manage just outside their intended house, to subsidize his income and also to keep her occupied. Smart isn’t he?

The monastery in teak is still the largest teak building on stilts, and is said will take another century before any major repair works are required. It is the most majestic structure around the village and its surroundings. It’s a shame that no more teak forests exist, as the old man selling cooking oil said. Today, there are no teak forests as far as the eyes can see, its just bamboo shrubs and bushes, here and there. It’s really a crying shame, sad!

Buildings on stilts are a necessity in these parts, as the Bago River is likely to burst its banks, now and then, and the when the monsoon lashes out, the area is transformed into a sea of brown water, till late September. At times, long boats are the only way to get around. Not a very desirable experience.

The wedding reception is to be held in the zayat, within the compound, shadowed by the monastery in teak, after the rains and harvesting, when the weather is kinder, dry and cool. The chief monk will do the necessary blessing, together with the village elders and in the presence of parents from both their families, in early November.

Meantime, Kun Sa found out more about their Pa O tribe heritage, and the reason why their tribe wore black. According legend, they are decedents from a male zawgyi  (Buddhist magician, shaman or supernatural being) and a female dragon. This maybe why they all pin a small dragon insignia on their jackets. They are also known as black Karans, the reasons are quite obvious. The zawgyi and dragon are said to have laid three eggs, first egg gave birth to the Karan people, the second, the Pa O tribe, and the third, a Karanni or Padaung tribe. The man’s turban is to symbolize the zawgyi’s head and the ladies colourful headdress to represent the dragon’s head. Black is the colour of mourning, when in 1057, in Thaton, King Manuha was defeated by King Anawratha from Pagan and enslaved the Pa O tribe. The traditional Pa O people had been mourning ever since. Talk about loyalty ……

Layman's perspective on thoughts

It has been written that Philosophy ascended from ancient Greece, and to mean love of wisdom. By layman terms, it can be said to be the most basic beliefs, concepts, and attitudes of an individual or group. Philosophy can be also defined as the study of general and fundamental problems, such as those, connected with reality, knowledge, existence, reason, mind and also language. Rather a mouthful, yes?  While on the other side, we have Dialectic (rational argument), which is also a word from ancient Greece, to mean, a method of argument for resolving disagreements, which has been central to European and Indian Philosophy, since antiquity. There is the third side of the coin too, that is Debate. This also known to be an argumentative discussion, and is won by persuading the opponent or opposite side, that your argument is correct, or the opponent’s argument is incorrect. The winner is then decided by judge, jury or group consensus. It does not mean the winner is absolutely correct or providing the absolute truth. It’s just an art of persuasion argument. All very, very complicated don’t you think? To my humble mind, Philosophy and Dialectic draws a fine line, where, one is basic beliefs and concepts, while the other is arguing for resolvement. Here, Debate does not come into the equation. Thank god for that!

Today, we are seeing both Philosophy and Dialectic are at work. That is good, as while identifying fundamental problems is a necessity, we also need a rational argument, to make our world a better place, so we think? Take for instance, Socrates (BC470/469-399BC) who was a classical Greek philosopher, has been credited as one of the founders of western philosophy, killed himself by drinking a mixture contaminated with poison hemlock, as he believed he would be better off dead. His famous words ‘I know, I know nothing’, Socrates may have said, actually, he knew a lot. While Pluto (428/427 or 424/423 BC- 348/347 BC), a devoted young follower and a student of Socrates, founder of an Academy of higher learning in Athens, first such institution of higher learning in the western civilization, was not only a philosopher, but also a mathematician. He and other notable Socrates die-hards, laid down the foundations of western philosophy. While Socrates was a stonecutter by trade, Pluto’s parents saw to it that, he got a good education and he himself was smart and witty, since young. Some accounts stated that Pluto died in bed, while a young Thracian girl played a flute, while others wrote that he passed away, at a wedding feast. Even later Philosophers did not speculate on this matter. George Nay Win, being a simple man, does not even try to address the issue, as he is not of authority on the subject. One thing is to be certain, Plato was a smart fellow, for sure.

Since the time of above two notable gentlemen philosophers, we have seen records of other philosophers in their chosen discipline(s) throughout history, and at every century, too many to mention, to do justice. The only thing George Nay Win knows is that the parameters of thoughts are ever changing the landscape, for better or worst, depending which side of the fence, one stands on. This, he noticed also was the case while they were still living, Socrates was accused of destroying the youth minds of Athens with his thoughts. Such were the dilemmas. What do you think?

George Nay Win was once a very young aspiring fireman in Yangon (Rangoon), and he was suddenly put a halt to it, when he discovered a baby in a crib, while fighting fire in Min Street, Sanchaung North East area. The building was burnt to the ground, as fully constructed of teakwood, with no survivors, except for the baby, which he adopted. The main reason for George Nay Win to stop short his career in the tracks, was because, he witnessed men aspirations being swiped off, at a flick of a finger, and lives being taken away before their time was due. To be frank, this scared him immensely. He has a younger sister by the name of Saung Pan (meaning Winter’s flower), who was willing to look after the baby girl, only months old. George’s sister never married and just devoted her time to the baby girl. They named her Meethee (loosely to mean fire fruit). Saung Pan and Meethee, both immigrated to Singapore in the month of May, 1991, and found a two-room apartment at no. # 03215, Block 126, in Bedok North, beside Bedok North Street 2, in the eastern part of Singapore. This is half way between Bedok and Tanah Merah, MRT stations, however served well by busses also. George Nay Win (meaning bright sun) immigrated to the United States and continued to support his sister and adopted daughter, by working as a merchant sailor onboard American flagged ships.

George Nay Win is a great believer of Lord Buddha philosophy. Guatama Buddha (563/483BCE-483/411/400BCE), born in Lumani, in Nepal, and died in Kushinaga, Utta Pradesh, India. Taught primarily in Northern India, and later traveled to Eastern regions of that land.  He taught us to seek the middle path in life, between sensual indulgence and the severe asceticism (abstinence from worldly pleasures, which included restraint in respect to body, speech and mind). His teachings were memorized by followers and only committed to writing, 400 years after Buddha’s death. According to Lord Buddha, there are ten evils part of a human being. These are, three from the body (killing, theft and impure deeds), four by the mouth (insulting, cursing, lying and flattery), and three from the mind (jealously, hatred and unawareness). We are to let go the ten evils, to have a happy and peaceful life. This awareness is only available by self-cultivation and not through books or tutors, it is said, we are our own judges. He was a prince, and at the age of 29, left the pleasures and safety of the palace, where he eyed the old, sick and dying, which resorted him to a life of ascetic. It is said that after 49days meditation under a Bodhi tree, at the age of 35, he attained enlightenment, where he came to realize to overcome suffering, the answer lies in the Four Noble Truths, which he preached and also said, can be attained by any man with correct practice. For 45 years he traveled and preached, and died at the age of 80. George believes that after 2500 years, for his teachings to be still revered, and being practiced by men today, there must be truth in it. Lord Buddha took seven years of practice for his enlightenment, thus George believes that it is impossible for a common to achieve his spiritual goals, unless with the right approach and practice. This is easier said than done.

George Nay Win has two main reasons for immigrating to the United States, one, he is in the opinion that this is the land of milk and honey, and since more newer than Europe, will have plenty of open spaces, ready to be occupied. Two, earning power is more and its land is filled with opportunity, waiting to be grabbed. He works for American Oil Company, onboard tanker ships, serving Alaska and the west coast of United States. Even though number of U.S. flagged ships are falling, he finds the pay was comparably much more, even better with tanker allowance, plus stellar terms of employment, and not to mention wide living quarters onboard. He works six months onboard with full pay and three months leave, on half pay. George would spend religiously most of his leave time with his sister and daughter in Singapore. Today, Meethee would address herself as Mikki, and call his sister, Mamma Thee and, to him, addressed as Daddy Win. George always has been truthful with Mikki, as any protective lies or cover-ups can blow up, sooner or later. Truth is always best and safer.

While in Singapore, he would sleep in the sitting room with classical music from the local radio station, which he enjoys, and reading philosophy books from Bedok Community Library, at 21 Bedok Street 1, walking distance from where they live. The books he takes on loan are under Mikki Win’s name. All very much economical and variety is boundless. George would take his daughter to Chai Chee Secondary School, on Bedok North road, by bus and also fetch her back in the afternoons, and spend most of her free time, together. Sometimes the whole family, all three of them would venture out for a meal, and Mikki would try and pass off as a Chinese or Malay depending on the situation. She spoke fluent Fucheng (local Chinese dialect), plus Mandarin and Bahasa Malay in addition to English. They all would have a giggle after leaving the food outlet. Mikki was neither too fair nor dark, thus she is able to pass off as a Chinese or Malay, anytime. As for George and Saung Thee, all could spot them a mile away that they are neither. Their features are too distinct to be a Singaporean Chinese, Malay or Indonesian. This was a game that Mikki likes to play.

His sister, Saung Thee, when first immigrated, worked as a nursery helper, to be at Mikki’s side, as much as possible. Nowadays, she works at Maybank Bedok, at 210 Upper New Changi Road, near her block, and supplement by working five evenings during weekdays, at a noodle stall, in Bedok food court, in Bedok Town Center. Money is sufficient, however, George would also always leave a certain amount before departing, just for sake of security. George loves them both very much, and left it to them, where they want to anchor their roots. Singapore or United States of America, it’s their call.

Onboard, often than not, he would be their librarian. He always made it a point to set up a small reading club, so that sailors can pass their time onboard comfortably. There would be more of fictional works in soft covers, whom most likes, but invariably there will also be a small selection on non-fiction, and books on philosophy. He is better known onboard as ‘professor’, since he spends most of his spare time reading. He once commented that, the ocean is a wide open place, and a ship is like a needle in a haystack. One can be ‘lost’, as survival in these waters is only a mere few minutes, and they seem to get the message. Most of the time, they leave him alone to his books. He sails as a quartermaster, view need only undertake watches and bridge work. He was given a chance to become a boswain, or go back to college to study for his tickets to become an officer. He declined all, as he does not want to shoulder further responsibility, and just quite happy, as he is. This way, just do the work and be done with.

Another philosopher, George puts in his high esteem is Confucius (551BC-479BC), as his philosophy emphases on personal and government morality, correctness of social relationships, justice and sincerity. In addition to being a philosopher, he was an editor, teacher and a politician in the Spring and Autumn periods of Chinese history.  His principals were based on common Chinese beliefs and tradition. He believed in strong family loyalty, ancestor worship, respectful towards the elders by their children, and of husbands by their wives. He recommended family as the basis for an ideal government. His Golden Rule was, not to do to others what you do not want done to yourself. Confucius can be referred to as Socrates of the Eastern civilization.

After Confucius, there was another Chinese general, strategist and philosopher by the name of Sun Tze (544BC-496BC), who was very much ahead of his times, he left 13 chapters inscribed on bamboo strips. To this day, not only to military stagey, but also business, office and corporate strategies can be applied of his thoughts. He is much appreciated and revered in both Eastern and Western military circles, but also in business and law. There is many a book written about his 13 chapters, in many languages. Rather a lot, and too many, to count.

George Nay Win would read his books and wondered, with all the teachings of numerous philosophers in history, we, so called civilized men still do gigantic wrongs in this world, and wondered where the philosophers teachings comes in. While he gazes into the sea, he cannot help but wonder the ever-changing parameters of thoughts. Take for example during the World War ll period in Germany. In March 1933, over 17 million voting public, that is over 43.9 % of votes, endorsed Hitler and his Nazi Party on the Jewish question. With the vote endorsement of the masses, Nazi Party killed 6 million Jews, and later on, when the war was about to be lost, majority said, they were not part in the massacre.  While appreciating elections are a form of debate, and wooing the voting public, how can killing be a part. They may not physically have carried out the actual, so called cleansing and killings, but they did however endorse it at the ballot box, for the Nazi Party ideology. Another classic example was in Rwanda, 1994, where Hutus and Tutsis hacked each other with clubs, machetes and by bare hands too. About 1 million Hutus and Tutsis perished within 100 days, making the worst genocide since the Second World War. That’s about nearly 20% of their population perished in 100 days. It is learnt, more of Tutsis were slaughtered by the Hutus, while the radio blared out to hack, even their neighbors of Tutsis clan. George Nay Win just shook his head. Killing just one life is already one too many. This was truly ridiculous. 

The more he thought about it, the more George Nay Win realizes, that changing parameters are played to the tune of thoughts of the day. At one time, black men were not allowed to join the American Armed Forces, than came the women   policy, afterwards, its the issues of gays and lesbians. During President Clinton era, the theme was ‘knows not, ask not or don’t ask, don’t talk’. Now, it’s all well for gays and lesbians to be in the Defense Services. He wonders, what next? He said to himself, better and safer, to continue paint the bridge deck green, holy stone the wing decks, varnish the woodworks, clean the monkey island, polish the direction finder loops, steer the wheel and do what the officer of the watch tells you to do. Earn your salary and keep your mouth shut. Everybody is happy.

He felt the subject of philosophy is too deep for him. To his simple mind, he has not reach that stage, where he can appreciate and apply fully the philosophies to the constantly changing parameters of thought. With all the Philosophers thoughts in black and white, we, the people, are still at a loss, and the majority is walking their own paths. Most people had been lost since their writings, its   application cannot be comprehended by all. He has decided to continue and enjoy his readings and to leave it at that. Maybe, he’s got a brain that is a wee bit lacking and he could not think that deep. George Nay Win got enough things on his mind to last a lifetime. He will just enjoy and continue reading philosophy. Think too much, he will not. Full stop.

George Nay Win once met a Chinese girl while he enjoyed a duck rice in a Los Angles, Chinatown restaurant. She was having pork rice there. He started talking, and one thing led to another. While she was American born and bred, the parents were from Hong Kong of the Cantonese clan.  She was about twenty three, when they met, and goes by the name of Melisa Wong. Nice looking girl, slim, about five foot six, fair complexion, dark black loose hair, but a wee short on the boobs and, boy, can she talk. Melisa works for TPC Harding Park, at 99 Harding Road, and her job is stable and the salary is nothing to be complained. She lives with her mother in #37251 Los Palmos Drive, Westwood Highlands, Los Angles. The house is a double story and has three bedrooms, one for her mother, and one for her, with one spare for guests, if any. Melisa Wong helps her mother in the evenings and weekends, frying spring rolls for a restaurant in Chinatown, which is a nice drive north from their house.

George told Melisa about his work, sister and adopted daughter in Singapore. She seems to be more interested about Mikki Win. George told Melisa that Mikki is now in her final year at the University of Singapore, reading Mechanical Engineering, and should be awarded her BSc Engineering degree, by the Summer of year 2012. Mikki now is a young lady, and she is aware that she owes much to Mamma Thee and Daddy Win for bringing her up to this level. Her world is her mum and dad only, and she aims to make good for their autumn years.  Meanwhile, Melisa seems receptive of gaining a sister and friend, to share her trials and thoughts. George also appreciates that he must decide on one way or other, to be fair on Melisa also, as she is not getting younger with each passing year. He would love Melisa to be his partner in life, and she does not mind older men either. He highlighted to Melisa, that his sister and Mikki comes first, as this is his life’s chart, and furthermore, promised himself the day he rescued Mikki in 1991, that she would be his sole purpose in life from that day onwards. He is still flabbergasted that a man’s life and hard earned saving, can be wiped off from a single stroke of bad luck, which may or may not be of his own fault. How life can be so cruel and unfair. It still haunts him to this day.

That reminded George of a song written by Joni Mitchell, entitled Both Sides Now, released in 1968. The last verse is as follows:

I’ve looked at life from both sides now

From win and loose and still somehow

It’s life illusions I recall

I really don’t know life at all

I‘ve looked at life from both sides now

From up and down, and still somehow

It’s life illusions I recall

I don’t know life at all

He will bring both of them, his sister and daughter to Los Angles, for a holiday after Mikki’s graduation, and let Mikki decide whether she wishes to take the high or low road. He would permit her six months sabbatical. They can decide to move in together with Melisa, or should they wish, he is willing to buy a small property in a neighborhood of their choice, in Los Angles, with the money he saved, rest if needed be, sponsored by a bank, or to remain in Singapore and work there. George Nay Win is fully prepared to abide by their decision. His marriage to Melisa Wong has to take the back burner, as he already made a promise to himself since day one, that Mikki comes first, always.

George Nay Win can only repeat what William Shakespeare once penned, ‘to be or not to be, that is the question’.