IntoThe World

Column by Oriana Silva

It was Easter Sunday and our second day travelling in Burma. Buda was therefore the central link of about 3000 temples, pagodas, stupas, zedis, pathos and similar …. in the Bagan archeological area where we were experiencing magical moments like the one we narrate below.

It was the third consecutive day the alarm clock woke us early. Yangoon, 4 a.m. The capital is still sleeping while we are driven to the airport. The flight Yangoon-Bagan should depart at 6 a.m.; and it did depart; and it did arrive at 7:10 a.m. as scheduled.  We leave the plane and observe the ritual of the “luggage distribution”. At Bagan airport there are no luggage vans.  No cargo hold. No carousel. There are instead 7 employees that carry the baggage from the plane to the arrival hall, check baggage claim tickets, gather the passengers’ belongings and carry them manually to the owners. It seems complex, but there are no lost or changed luggages.

Bagan receives us with nice 29ºC.  The temperature rises some hours later till about 42ºC.  By that time we already hired an electrical bike, visited the outsider of That-byin-nyu temple and rode to another monument, Shew-gu-gyi temple. 

Shew-gu-gyi fascinated us immediately, not only by its architectonic simplicity but also, and mainly, by the alive human activity around it. The grey building becomes ocher with the midday sun.  The surrounding area is soil, sandy type. There are some trees painted with red flowers under which shadow both pilgrims and visitors rest.  Facing the main entrance, a few stalls, where food and drinks are sold, are stretched.  Along the first set of stairs it’s like an open mall where women sell art crafts.
We go up. We take out our shoes and barefoot we go further up a bit. Now we stand at the basis of the temple where we meet Burmese pilgrims, some tourists and several painters trying to impress us with their art.

This period of the day and time of the year, the temple is even fuller of life with children on summer holidays, jumping here and there.  Some of them bring postcards or small pictures they try to sell the tourists. Some others, bolder, talk with the tourists and smiling say “hello” becoming guides for some minutes.  We are also temporarily guided by one of those children.
It’s exactly while we are wandering with our little tourist guide that we notice the arrival of a group of little monks.  They are about twelve. They jump out of an open van. Their red garments are a magnet for us.  We observe them climbing the stairs, barefoot, beautiful like “Leonores” on the grass *(like Portuguese poet Camões sonet). As they reach the basis of the temple, it’s us who are observed.  “Mingalabar” we greet. “Mingalabar” some bolder ones reply. Some of the little monks stare at us, others observe us curiously.  We instinctively play hide and seek, through doors, windows, railings, domes, pinnacles, statues, paintings, painters, little tourist guides, selling boys, pilgrims and all other visitors. We get shy smiles in reply.

Read the fabulous blog: Boralá Mundiar 

When our camera shoots the surrounding landscape of temples and glittering tops, the curiosity of the little monks grows up immediately. Then they are no longer shy. They come closer. They peep. They discuss the object among them. They study it closely. We make a gesture that questions, do you want us to take you a picture? They smile shyly but nod yes. They line up. They get ready ... Click ... We watch the photo. Great! We show it to our little friends and we all smile.
We couldn’t find out anything else about these little monks in particular,but some days later, in a monastery lost in the forest with a fantastic view over lake Inlé, we talk with an adult monk, who speaks some English , and who explains us that the little Burmese boys and girls must obey a ritual of devoting a period of their lives to faith and prayer until adult age.
Some do it for a short time, others choose longer periods to have the chance to study, and few others do it the whole life for faith. They walk barefoot. Shave their hair. They wear a unique piece of cloth, in warm tones. The colors range from yellow - roasted and saffron, orange and red to burgundy, depending on the tone with which the garments are dyed. They get up early in the morning. Their beds lay on the floor. They study or perform monastery duties. Each one of them has a dark wooden bowl, called the “alms bowl”, where they eat from. Mealtimes are preceded by a prayer, made cockering and with closed eyes before Buddha. It is a peaceful and calm experience.

On the streets of Yangoon and Ngaun U we also witness the "initiation parade". Before children enter to monasteries or monastery-schools, their families celebrate the new phase of their lives by dolling up girls and boys, horses, cows and oxen. They hire a band or a car with powerful sound equipment and they organize a march through the town or village. The parade is similar to a Christian Easter procession, but it is a more alive and colorful one.

Also cheerful and unpretentious, is the farewell to the little monks in the Shew-gu-gyi temple. We share the same language: a smile with an open heart! We communicate by smiling to one another. We say goodbye smiling and grateful.  They are grateful for having a picture taken and we for the childish chastity of the meeting. It is a touching moment, like so many others in Burma. 

One of “those” moments we won’t forget and will keep alive forever.