In the stillness of a small town
under the name of Kalaw, a hill station 1320 meters above sea level in the
Taunggyi District, Western Shan State of Myanmar, the pace of life trickles at
a snail’s walk compared to the other bustling cities such as Mandalay and
Yangon. This hill station was set up during the British Raj era, for their
tribe to escape the sweltering and daunting heat of the Burmese (Myanmar)
plains. The temperature there was cool and comfortable, around 23 degrees
Centigrade on average, while the temperature in the plains could sour up to
39/40 degrees, depending on the season with more than 80% humidity, was not too
nice or comfortable I’m afraid. The Honorable Major Richard Radcliffe (better
known as RR by his counterparts) from the 37th Welsh Guards, was
posted to Yangon as part of a contingent of the British management hierarchy
just before the Second World War in 1937.
Similarly to some of his matrimony mates, he brought along Marjorie, his
beloved better half, eight years his junior, to keep at bay the infamous
dreaded British weather. She being a Scottish lass from Stirling quickly agreed
to her husband proposal and joined him in Rangoon looking forward to a life of
warm tropical bliss, while he took up his post in the Secretariat under the
auspices of Colonel Tomlinson Cartwright.
Soon after Marjorie Radcliffe
arrival at Rangoon, she noticed that the weather was too hot, stuffy, humid and
at the same time totally did not agree with her. To journey back by steamer
alone would have meant seasickness yet again and more than 30 days at sea,
which she did not fancy in the least: To fly back in her family way condition
was not an option either. After much deliberation with her husband, he
purchased a small chalet in Kalaw and followed the tribe as it were. The chalet
was on a hilltop overlooking the small town with an adequate garden and pine
trees all around and yet still walking distance to the railway station which
was similar to her native Scotland under the tropical circumstances. Marjorie
fell in love with the place and anchored there mostly, venturing to Rangoon
when called for only from October to January when the weather there was cooler.
Of all the household utensils
Major Radcliffe shipped out from Rangoon included a grandfather wall clock
bought from Rowe & Company there. It was about three feet long and twelve
inches in width, with a pine housing that chimes on every hour. They hung it
onto the sitting room wall near the fireplace and there it stayed majestically
till their last day. She was very much at home there with her society of
British expatriates while RR was busy in Rangoon. He did journey there at every
opportunity and she bored him three beautiful children. The elder girls were
lovingly nicknamed Pudding and Dessert, and the latest addition a bonny boy was
called Crayon as he radiated sunshine to their clan. When Burma gained
independence on 4th January, 1948, their days were numbered and in
February 1949, the Major made the following statement to their dutiful butler U
Pu and his wife Daw Hla, their faithful maid.
“Since Burma gained independence,
we have been ordered back to the United Kingdom and as such shall be leaving
Kalaw for good next week. As a token of our gratitude and appreciation, please
accept our wall clock as a gift to remind of us.”
U Pu replied, “Thank you Major,
the wall clock shall have a place of prominence in our humble house and may we
also wish all the best to you and your family and for sure shall always remain
in our hearts.”
The Radcliffe’s sold all their
furnishings at a discount to the locals and gave away what they could not
dispose off and boarded the train back to Rangoon with bare essentials, as they
would be starting afresh back home. Their departure was timed so that they need
spend only a day or two at the most in Rangoon, before boarding on their final
voyage to Tilbury by Bibby Line’s s.s. Warwickshire with the three children in
tow, thus one chapter came to a sad close.
U Pu passed away in 1953 at the
age of 62 due to a bout of tuberculosis and his daughter Daw Saw May also left
this world in 1995 at the age of 74 due to heart complications. However, her
daughter Daw Mya Mya, age 51 is still well, alive, kicking and living with her only son San Pe, age 23 in the
northern outskirt of Kalaw, a stone throw away from route 54 leading to another
small town of Yin Mar Pin. Burmese names do not have or follow surnames, thus
rather difficult and can be confusing at times. Their small wooden structure
was two stories with the shrine room on the top floor. There, the mother, son
and his wife Hla Hla together with their 7 months old daughter lives a simple
uncomplicated life. The old grandfather wall clock was hung in the top floor
shrine room left wall, a place of respect and prominence. The Smiths Enfield
clock’s chime tubes were of brass, the pendulum of stainless steel and brass,
the mechanism were hard to distinguish whether of brass, copper or steel for a
layman, while the winding key was made of steel. Not too far from their small
house there exist three small distinct villages, Pa Oo, a tribe of the region,
Nepali and Gurkha, reminisce of the once British Army soldiers and rail workers
who settled down there for good and a Shan village. All coexisted peacefully
and tended to their crops, lands and went about minding their own businesses.
In the stillness of the night and early morning, its resonance chimes can
clearly be made out through the valley and surrounding hill villages when it
strikes each hour, number of chimes signifying the hour concerned. The strikes
of the chimes were considered as gospel by the region and all chores carried
out accordingly. San Pe would wind the clock weekly, every Tuesday and accuracy
of time was checked by his mother with the announcement of the hour from their
transistor radio, and the clock corrected may be weekly due to its excellent
time keeping.
The nearby monastery Head Monk is
risen at four every morning by the grandfather wall clock chimes and the
serious business of running a monastery begin, so as the boiled beans seller
who cooks her delicacy to sell in the market commences too. The sound of the
chimes travels to the surrounding villages around the hilltops, and they also
start their daily rituals with that. The chimes of the wall clock are not loud
but its low distinct resonance sound seems to have reached the nearby villages
in the quiet stillness of the countryside. San Pe is aware the grandfather wall clock is a family heirloom but
does not know the extent of its full history. It’s been in his family for over
sixty years and still walking as the Jonnie Walker Whisky advertisements. No repairs
had been made as far as he is aware of, maybe service its mechanics every ten
years or so at the town’s clock and watch shop on Merchant Street. San Pe works
as a clerk in Ah-Wan’s produce agency house dealing in fresh garlic and all
sort of rice including black sticky rice. There has been many a time when he
was complimented by the customers for the chimes the wall clock resonances from
their house. All walk of life around the house seems to rely on the chimes of
the grandfather wall clock for their times which made him rather proud as
though he is the town’s time keeper. The market at Kalaw is every five days and
the coming and goings of town folks in their warm clothing and woolies amidst
the puffing from their noses and mouths are truly a heartwarming sight. The
morning scenes were colourful as the vegetables, souvenirs and knick-knacks
they sell painted a breath taking sight to be sure. At times he would daydream
and wanted to see and hear in person the Big Ben’s bell chimes in the Palaces
of Westminster at London, some commented that the chimes were similar to that
of their grandfather wall clock.
