Feeling a bit shy twice

The reflection of the light of my laptop is the only light in the pitch dark night. When I close it I see a beautiful dance of stars all around me. The only sound, now the aggregate finally shut up, comes from crickets, singing song of the night that lies ahead of us. It’s only 8pm.

I’m staying in a farm house about a mile from the small village of Pindaya. No matter how small a village or remote the location, royal families used to live around. So it happens that I visit the house of an old princess, who also happens to be a history professor. Perhaps it’s the combination of the two that made her English so good, Brittish-English mind you. She doesn’t look like a princess, doesn't dress like a princess, the house doesn’t look like a castle and the Buddha offering statue doesn’t look serious at all, it rather looks like a Christmas tree, complete with coloured blinking lights. To be honest she probably is losing her mind a bit as the stories did not all fit that well together and there was some repetition, but seeing this lady still running her castle with a broken backbone, but without a stick, and listening to stories of bygone age gives you a smile and a broader understanding of life in rural Burma.

Oh and by the way, if you’ve missed my story about my acquaintance with an Indian prince and still want to figure out how Burma like India had multiple royal families spread out widely, have a go here.

Today I go for another interesting encounter; I visit a monk who’s been meditating for 7 years in his own cave. He proclaims not to sleep but just meditate. He does have the same baggy eyes as I have (or had, as they’re already getting a bit better, luckily). However when I ask if I then interrupt as he should maybe me meditating, he waves my concern aside. With a big smile he shows me around. He’s about half my height which he seems to forget when he easily moves through the labyrinth in his cave. I actually have to crawl on my knees which makes him burst in laughter when he looks around. When I ask him if I can make a picture he’s all serious and focussed instantly.

As easy as he got into his some sort meditative pose he got out again and invites me for a drink in his other meditation room. He uses it if no-one is around (now there are about 10 people working on the fields and in the cave). He opens all windows and blinds. The curtains dance in the soft breeze and the birds joyfully sing a loud song in an enormous old mango tree. A lady serves me a horribly sweet, milky coffee and different cookies. It makes me shudder. Of course he doesn’t have anything as he only eats in the morning. As I’m his guest I drink the coffee and try not to make funny faces. The conversation makes me laugh from time to time as it’s really difficult to converse if words are really limited. I have to promise that I’ll come back in three years when he has his meditation centre. I’m actually curious what it will be like, but promising something now for in three years time…

Another surprise awaits me when I reach a small pagoda at the top of a mountain. Just when I think I’ve found the perfect spot to sit down and enjoy silence I hear chatting. Curiously I approach it. People are having lunch in the shadow the trees at the hill top provide. Instantly I’m invited to join for lunch. Not in words as it seems no one speaks English, but in sign language, sounds we both don’t understand from each other. I feel a bit shy and uncertain, but soon it shows that they want me to be around as much as I want to see what they’re heading for. Luckily some younger guys speak a bit of English and explain that a five-day reading from the lessons of the Buddha is about to start. I should join. I feel honoured and happy to be here right now. When they’re gathering money I want to contribute as well and feel about 500 Kyat should be somewhat close to what they put together themselves. A toothless men tells me 5,000 I look really surprised and say in English that he’s making fun out of me. No one understands my words, but the look on my face is probably enough and we all burst in laughter. It’s such a precious moment. After a while I silently leave them in their ceremony which seems to be a combination of reading, praying and chanting.

It looks like I’m the only tourist in the village. When walking around everyone comes out, young and old, they all smile and wave at me. A similar situation arises when I end up among at least 50 giggling school kids. Pushing each other to say something. Bursting into hilarious tittering and then try again. Pushing each other to come close to me, staring at me and then they flutter away again. I’m just as intrigued as they are, but it does make me feel a bit shy. In a good way though, with a smile on my face.

Time to close the laptop and enjoy the dance of the stars and song of the crickets.