The Village Buddha

So, we turned a corner in the shopping arcade and Sanda noticed a bunch of people by one of the stalls selling elaborate Buddhas.  She is a first class guide, watching for interesting situations and then asking the questions that we’d love to ask if only we could.  In no time at all, she’d discovered that these were people from a nearby village who had collected some money to buy a new Buddha for their community temple and were trying to get the best deal they could from the saleslady.  She was suffering from backache, she said!

They were haggling the price and deciding which one would be the best deal, being influenced by the offer of a free glass case being included if they chose wisely.  I was amused that, as they discussed, haggled, weighed up their options, the elderly gentleman came over and decided to film the whole thing on his iphone.  Perhaps he was reporting for the parish magazine?

Our opinion was sought,  What did we think to the small Buddha they’d chosen?  Well, what can you say?!  We gave it a thumbs up, said that we thought they had made a wise choice and had done a great deal – at which point the Grandmother of the group told the rest that they had our backing!!  

The lady with the bad back got her colleague to begin wrapping their purchase, maybe before they could change their mind!

We bade them farewell, thanked them for allowing us a small insight into their world and wished them well with their new purchase.  Oh my goodness, the people here are utterly charming!

Our next stop was temple-related too.  Here in Mandalay another speciality crafts is the manufacture of gold leaf for gilding.  We’d seen the men at the temple earlier, applying layer upon layer of the stuff to the Buddha and seen packets of gold leaf on sale at each of the temples for that purpose, too.

But we didn’t quite realise how much hard labour was involved in the traditional process.  That was soon to change.

It begins with a very thin strip of gold which is cut into small pieces and placed in between layers of rice paper by the men in the workshop.  Actually, come to think of it, this was no ordinary rice paper but some which had been treated/fermented or something over a period of time until it became translucent.  The workers places many sheets of it inside packages made of doeskin leather and then…

They beat it with the heaviest hammer you can imagine.  Three of these men were working alongside one another creating a kind of ostinato which was definitely all part of the deal.  when one missed a beat, he’d wait until he could join in the rhythm again and the energy and power the three of them created was really rather remarkable.  I shot a short video of the process, as much for the sound as for the vision, but there’s no chance of uploading it here.  I’ll see what I can do later.

They were working to a timer made from half a coconut shell floating in a bowl of water.  It slowly filled with water and when it sunk it was time to stop.

This piece of beaten out gold was then cut into more pieces and the process of placing in between the special rice paper was repeated, then the hammering…until that initial piece of gold lead had been made into 720 pieces.

Which is where the ladies came in – working in a closed off workshop, these women packed the gold leaf into small packages for sale.

Incredible, really.

There remained one last visit on our agenda before  we checked into our hotel,  The Kings Palace was actually just across the road from our hotel but with a couple more things to see later, we said we’d prefer to keep going and tick this one off the list right now.

There’s a broad fortification around it and a rather hazy view of Mandalay Hill from the entrance.

It had been built by the last but one King of Burma in 1857, each side is two miles long and we entered through the East gate.  Now an army camp, it had been destroyed by the Japanese bombing in WW2 and now consisted mostly of empty replica buildings.

There was a small museum, containing amongst other things, the King’s Nether Garments but no photos were allowed and you’ll just have to imagine what they looked like.

Though all the buildings were attractive, even the replicas, there was one  which stood out from the rest

The Glass Palace was lovely, but like all the other structures, completely empty.

It’s in this building where the golden throne we’d seen in the Yangon Museum would have stood and in spite of the empty shell of a building, it was easy to imagine how grand it all would have been.

For us, though, the heat was building and we were feeling weary.  Maybe Sanda sensed this when she suggested we go and check into our hotel and meet her again later in the afternoon when the heat would be less intense and it would be more comfortable to walk barefoot again.

What an excellent idea!

Tempting though it was, we both resisted the temptation to have a snooze!

A family ceremony

We walked out into the large open space surrounding the temple and my eyes fell immediately on the bright colours over the other side.  Well, you knew they would, didn’t you?

Oh, said Sanda, it’s a novitiation ceremony and those children are about to become monks and nuns.  Their family are there to celebrate.  Let’s watch.

Well, we watched as the aunties, uncles and grandparents stood very solemnly, dressed in their finery and bearing gifts for the temple.  The photographer was shooting video, taking still pictures and generally ensuring that no angle was forgotten.

Meanwhile, the centre of all the attention was playing by the large bell.  Dressed in silks and satins, the little chap looked nervous and his even smaller sister hid from view.

“Isn’t he rather small to become a monk?” I asked.

Apparently not.  Small boys frequently become monks during the summer holidays, when they don’t have to go to school.

(my apologies for the cynical thought that this could be a source of free child care here)

But surely, such small children will cry for their Mummies?  Well, it seems as though Daddy often goes along into the monastery at the same time…and Mummy may well bring food from home each day too.

Even so. (and yes, I know some send their small child off to boarding school at a similar age!)

At this point, their sister – the nun-to-be appeared, dressed and made up to the nines, looking far more sophisticated than her nine or ten years.  She was looking very serious and was keen to have us take her photo on such an auspicious occasion. 

Just how much did these children understand about what was about to happen?

How could their parents bear to let them go?

The answer to the last one is possibly that parents can gain karma by allowing their children into the monastery/nunnery…

Either way, these three were getting a little tired of waiting about in the heat, especially in all that silk and satin.

As they posed for the family photograph with parents and grandparents, we took our leave.  Personally, I couldn’t bear to think of those sweet children having their heads shaved, having to wear robes and be denied all comfort (no bed…sleep on the floor) for however long they were expected to.  The customs and beliefs must run very deep indeed.

We looked around the temple, where teenage monks were gathering.

We observed the men applying gold leaf to the buddha in the temple,

and we noted the signs down below.  All kinds of mixed up messages were swirling around in my head when we heard a commotion outside and it was time.

The little family were processing through the temple, in preparation for the ceremony.

We stood and watched, getting a shy wave from the little girl and returning our good wishes to her in the form of a wave and the broadest smiles we could manage.

We went off to look at the old murals in the oldest part of the temple.

Peered down long corridors where palm readers and astrologists would tell fortunes for anyone who wanted to know what lie ahead for them.  (No thank you)

We left the way we’d come in, through the shopping arcade.  My mind was on those children but thankfully, there was another little event taking place to prevent my worrying further.  I’ll carry it over to the next post, shall I?

Hello Mandalay

With our suitcases disappearing up the riverbank on someone’s head, we thought we’d better follow.  Sanda was waiting with our driver, ready to begin the trip to Mandalay.

People here seem to cram into any available moving space, be it in the back of a pick up truck or, as here, in a lorry and trailer.

The small trucks are piled high with goods, sometimes so precariously, it’s unsurprising that from time to time they fall off.

I don’t know if the nuns had been travelling on board or if they had merely stopped to assist.

Neither do I know if they ever call “full” or if there is such a thing as a three bell load*

As we approached Mandalay, we drove into heavier, more usual city traffic but the view out the window stayed equally interesting.

We found ourselves coming in through the stone carving district, where marble buddhas and other religious statuary were being created.

We found it interesting that similar trades were gathered together in the same street, a bit like Hanoi, really!

We were heading for the temple, but you can understand why this is the first photo I took there, can’t you?

Colour, pattern, texture?

I do believe one of those small bags might just have found its way to England, you know!

Well, it’d have been a shame to have left it there, wouldn’t it?

They are so beautifully made and almost every woman here carries one.

But we weren’t really here to buy a bag.  Neither were we here to buy a stone carving or some wooden object.  But we can look, can’t we?

It’s interesting just to see what’s going on, to stand and stare, if you like.  this young woman was supposedly gilding a statue of Buddha but she was having a rather interesting conversation on her phone at the same time.  Multitasking!

A little further along was a bowl of miniature figures, for keeping in the pocket and feeling comfortable that he is always near.

And a little further on still was the jade stall, with all kinds of different shades from here in Mandalay, which is known for its jade.

So much to see, then, and that’s before we’ve even reached the temple, where something special was happening and which we simply had to watch.  Meet me in the next post and I’ll tell you all about it!

* oh yes, in the days of bus conductors (of which my Mum was one!) they would ring the bell three times to signal to the driver that the bus was full and that no further passengers should be picked up until some had got off.  That’s all.

Goodbye, Ananda

We were packed and ready to leave as scheduled and though it was certainly lovely to see Sanda’s smiling face appear as we were having breakfast, it was sad to say goodbye to the friends we’ve shared the fun with over the last few days. 

Sad too to say goodbye to our comfortable room on Ananda, with the balcony where we’ve seen so much life going on as we passed by.

It’s a fantastic experience and one which we can wholeheartedly recommend.  There really has never been a dull moment and the additional small surprises just kept on coming!

But all good things come to an end and over breakfast we said a few goodbyes to people who were going straight home, some who were spending a night in Bangkok and others who we might bump into along the way.

What a great time we’ve had.  Bring on the next chapter!

Spectacular surprises

We knew we had one last thing to see before we returned to Ananda and that Aung had been carefully managing our timings so that we would arrive at U Bein Bridge in good time for sunset.  This was the bridge we’d seen on TV last weekend as we were packing our bags and we were really looking forward to actually being there ourselves.  Having said that, our days have been so fun packed with such a rich variety of activities, we’d almost forgotten we still had the bridge to look forward to.

When we arrived, there was quite a melee in the car park and I tried my best not to look over to the bridge itself until I could get to a place where I had a decent view. 

Aung announced that the best views were to be had from the small boats and that five had been reserved especially for the nine of us.

They were the ones with the chairs and coffee tables!  Oh my.

So we climbed aboard and our oarsmen were immediately ready for the off.  They stood at the back and rowed forwards, if you can work out what I mean.

We sat back in comfort and considered our good fortune, following our friends out there into the lake.

We were all taking photos like mad, as the sun was going down and our boats were heading further into the middle.

Most of all, we were all trying to capture the whole length of the bridge, even though we knew it was a hopeless task.

It just goes on and on into the distance.

Maybe if we zoom in?  After all, there are great reflections in the still water.

Oh, and of course, we should take photos of each other to swap later.

Just as we were thinking we were in the plum spot, the one where we wished to stay and watch the sunset, we moved on a little further.

OK, we’ll get some closeups of those people who are walking on the bridge, as well as those serious photographers under it.

By now, dusk was falling quite rapidly and we simply hoped for a better sunset that the other night, especially since we had such a great spot here.

But our oarsman decided to follow Caroline and Marion’s in front, actually sailing through the legs of the bridge to the other side.  Surely, there wasn’t going to be a view of sunset at all from there?

Oh, well, ok, no sunset, but maybe a different view of the bridge itself.  We’ll let them off!

But when Caroline and Marion appeared to be passing something from another nearby boat, we began to worry.  We were a bit vulnerable here in the open, needing to trust our oarsmen implicitly to do as they’d been asked.  We spoke no Burmese, he spoke no English and Aung was nowhere to be seen.  We couldn’t ask him what he thought he was doing.

But all became clear when we got a little closer and spotted a familiar face – the staff from the Ananda were there with bottles of Tattinger and had opened a champagne bar right there in the lake!  Wow…….

What a marvellous surprise!  How typically thoughtful to do that. 

Cheers!

As we sat, champagne in hand, it was another one of those count your blessings moments and you won’t be surprised to hear that a tear rolled down my cheek at one point.

But that didn’t last long because some friends were celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary and magically, the champagne bar came round with refills right on time!

As the sun went behind a cloud, we guessed that we’d seen the best.  Just like sunset over the Bagan temples, this one was going to fizzle.

Our oarsman decided to make a move before the others and we quietly slipped behind the row of champagne drinkers and those who simply wished they were and headed to the jetty once more.

There were still one or two photographs to take but really, that was that for tonight.

We bade U Bein Bridge farewell and set off on our merry way home to Ananda for dinner.

What a fantastic way to end our journey!