1. Myanmar 2001, In the footsteps of forefathers

Testing the waters, 2001

Drink's uncle lives in Yangon, Myanmar. He got left behind when members of his community escaped to India as the military Regime took over the country(history: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Burmese_Indians ). He survived innumerable ordeals. As soon as the regime allowed its citizens foreign travel, the uncle , his wife and a daughter visited India to vist his family in India after nearly 20 years. On the way back to Myanmar they visited us in Singapore staying with us for about a week before flying back home. He had so many stories to tell. Now that we knew he was in a comfortable position to receive relatives from overseas we decided to visit him.

Tiresome process but teachers have their perks

The process began with applications for visas at the Myanmar embassy in Singapore. Filling out several forms you had to wait in line for the submission only to be greeted by gruff officers who seemed very unwilling to acknowledge us. We had to come back a few days later at an allocated time to, hopefully, be approved for a visa. If you were a teacher you got more respect, as is the norm in Asian countries.

So we flew to Yangon. At the airport we had to convert a mandatory minimum of US$100 per person into Kyat at ridiculously low rates.. The uncle and his son in law met us at the entrance. As soon as we got to their home , one of the women, his wive's cousin, who was a clerk at the University and knew a few words in English, asked for our passports. She was then gone for a few hours. When she came back the uncle explained that all visitors had to be registered with the village Chief. He had given the uncle's residence an approval slip, that was to be hung prominently in one of the outer walls, that declared the three of us as legal visitors. We were also told that plain clothes men were frequently seen in our avenue keeping an eye on the newcomers to prevent trouble as in leaking local news to the outside world.

Third world amenities but huge hearts

The amenities in the house were very rudimentary. It reminded us of Chennai about 50 years ago. But the affection and care for guests is incomparable. Their family was huge -- two married daughters, 4 grandchildren, one unmarried daughter, a not too well to do distant relation who helped with the housework, visiting aunts and cousins, etc. 

Round table Dining with a large dose of affection

Sitting cross-legged on a mat around a foot high round table laden with several dishes was very comfortable. Our hosts insisted on physically serving us and the aunt even picked out the bones from the fish they served Drink. She even fanned him with a hand held fan.On subsequent visits, having become very familiar, we were allowed to help ourselves. But we were never allowed to wash our plates . At a table there was always a pot of chrysanthemum tea with a few tiny handleless cups around it. We drank only bottled water. In the mornings there were steamed cakes , redolent of Indian, Malaysian and Thai cuisine, all purchased at the market. Since they were bought freshly steamed we were not squeamish about eating them.

The Kitchen

At times I was allowed to help in the kitchen and even cooked a meal or two, but ( being a guest from an affluent country)only on the gas stove. There was another low foot-high battered round table in the kitchen surrounded by a couple of stools. We had to wear slippers in this area and the portion in the opposite corner, with an L- shaped bund on the two sides opposite the walls helped  contain the water likely to run off from washing the dishes that were piled up under the tap. 

Two different menus for each dinner and lunch

The uncle preferred Indian meals while the rest, who did not speak a word of English or Tamil (our mother tongue), preferred Burmese. So the uncle had his meals cooked under his direction at dawn. The charcoal stoves were started in the morning, to cook lunch and pack it up for the school going and office going,and at least one kept going all day. 

Most obvious were the huge drums of rice that looked like tiny beads( but became long grains when cooked), the huge containers of peanut oil which was used liberally and a large supply of crushed dried red chillies. It is not unusual to scoop a ladleful of rice onto a plate, pour a generous amount of peanut oil on to it and add a huge dash of crushed chillies. Voila, you have something to boost your energy when you feel sapped.

We were quite surprised that they cooked more chicken and prawns rather than fish while the river just a few minutes away was teeming with fish. Vegetables, plentiful and fresh, were always the highlight of our meals.

Laundry luxury 

The laundry was done at the small yard at the entrance to the house. The yard in front had house plants and a huge cistern that saved water from a tap that flowed into it. The washing was done in typical southeast Asian form. Clothes were soaked in soapy water, and then put in a basin one by one to be squished, patted and scrubbed and rubbed over a washboard before being squeezed and wrung out. The girls insisted on washing the men's clothes, hang them out to dry and iron them in the afternoon. The laundry, newly pressed, would be waiting for us every evening. We were pampered.

*A brush with laundry will be dealt with in another post

Hospitality includes Clothing

As soon as staying guests arrive it is customary for the host to provide longyis for the guests to wear during their stay. It was also suggested that we wear the longyi everyday so as to blend in with the locals. The women's longyies had a waist piece sewn all around the top, made of material that offered some friction so that when tied to the waist it wouldn't slip. The men wore their longyies, like a bow tied to the front and the rolled over. 

Survival tales

The uncle had so many stories to tell about his struggles during the exodus of Indians. There was not a dull moment, listening about the menial jobs that barely fed him, to larger attempts at running a food stall, to courting his wife to be. 

In the footsteps of ancestors

A generation ago some of our extended family members plied their trade in Yangon( then called Rangoon, Burma). They conducted their business in buildings built for the purpose. The first floor was where the business was conducted. The second floor housed a wooden shrine for daily worship and, the third was the sleeping quarters with futons. The location was selected in such a way that it was within walking distance from the post office and the river for obvious geographical reasons. Visiting Moghul Street ( now called Shwe Bontha)where these tall high ceilinged three storied buildings still stand gave us a unique appreciation of the sense of discipline and adaptability of our ancestors for the buildings still contain many of the steel safes and temple records left behind. 

The ground floors of this prime property have now been converted into back-to-back hole-in-the-wall shops. 

The travel itch returns

The meals well taken care of, and the vicinity becoming very familiar, with walks to the out door market, the sheltered market for non-perishable goods that also housed tailors, and especially along the river, the boats unloading tons of coconuts and plantains on the banks of a distributary of the Irrawaddy, we set our sights on Mandalay. 

To be continued in 2.Myanmar 2001