Maymyo Governor House, Burma
Day 9
07-10-2013
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There were four power outages last night, the first time we’ve experienced a power cut and we get four of them in one evening, a trifle unfortunate that it should happen twice at the first occasion where I’ve had access to a computer and internet. Plunged into darkness and losing all you’ve just written in an e mail may be irritating, but I’m fairly sure the repercussions of no power will have been more of a nuisance elsewhere., the staff gave me a torch and brolly, as it also happened to be hammering down outside, and our chalet is a short walk from the main reception and dining area. The way they take the power outage in their stride suggests this is not a one off situation, and it doesn’t affect their smiles.
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While the power was actually on last night, Tim had been chatting to the staff at reception, and bounded up to me as I was attempting to write up some of the trip ready for blogging. I could see he was keen to impart some pearl of wisdom, so detached my fingers from the keyboard in anticipation, “man, that was spooky, you’ll never guess what happened”, “oh yeah, what’s that then”, probably not with the amount of keenness he’d been hoping for, but it didn’t diminish his appetite for telling the story, “a massive blue butterfly just landed on my head while I was talking to the guys at reception, and I was about to swat it away, cos I don’t like that sort of shit, and the guys shouted, ‘no no, don’t touch, good luck’, and they told me it’s a sign that someone in my family is watching over me, it’s fucking crazy man”. We already knew that the Burmese are a superstitious lot, why else would you let dogs and cows roam the roads with impunity, not to mention believing in reincarnation, but this was a nice way to be introduced to one of their beliefs, rather than reading it, or hearing second hand, it certainly put a huge smile on Tims face, and I think it may be safe to say, made his day, convinced by now that Granny iPad, aka Daw Pwa Sei, must indeed be watching over us, well him actually, but who am I to judge, it’s a good story either way.
Daw pwa Sei, Tims Great Grandma
Daw Pwa sei, Tims Great Grandma
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Go Knee, or Gaungyi, (pronouced Gawn Yee), as I was corrected earlier, much to their amusement, told us he couldn’t take us out today as he had business elsewhere to attend to, instead Azani, who had driven up with us from Mandalay, would be our driver for the day. First up on the sight seeing was the Governor House, hoping to get a look inside this time, although we had been told no photo’s. The drive through Pyin Oo Lwin, or Maymo as it was previously known, is worth the trip on its own, rich in flower growers, very little traffic to speak of, and gloriously colourful miniature horse drawn carriages all over the place. As usual there were cows and dogs running, or ambling more like, all over, one dark brown cow had just settled and flumped himself down on the centre lines of the road, leaving the traffic to swerve around him, didn’t even flap an ear as mopeds and cars rattled past him, they in turn treated it as a perfectly normal occurrence.
No one bothers the cows, here in Maymo, or anywhere else in Burma
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On arrival at the Governor House, it seemed as if we were going to be out of luck, but Azani made a phone call and a couple of lads from the hotel that own the place turned up within minutes and we were inside. Having believed at first that this was the original building, we were informed by the two lads that came up to let us in, that it had been all but destroyed by Japanese bombing in WW2, but had been rebuilt in 2005 as close to the original as possible. Judging by the original old photographs on display on the walls, they had done a pretty damn fine job, and then went the extra yard by having mannequins of colonial British household members dotted about, as well as photos of the last Governor and his, (mainly Indian), entourage hanging on the walls, ‘Watts and Skeen, Mandalay’ signed in the bottom corner of the photo’s. All through this mansion house were photo’s by Watts and Skeen, showing how each part had looked all those years ago, and if we hadn’t been told the story of the place having been obliterated by bombing, I would never have doubted this was the original.
Governor House mannequins, Maymyo, Burma
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Driving away from the Governor House, I was hoping we’d stop in at the All Saints Church again, I felt there was more to be found out there, but Tim wasn’t keen so I didn’t push it. Azani took us to the bank in the town centre so we could change up some money, where two more of my Benjamin Franklins were turned back at me, “please, you have better?”, pointing to the slight creases in the middle, so I handed over my last two undamaged notes, (they did have those little stamps on one side though, but the teller didn’t look both sides thankfully, I felt guilty, as if I were peddling counterfeit notes), and figured I’d work something out along the way, hoping that 180,000 Kyats ought at least to last me until Rangoon in five days time. A stones throw from the bank was the Purcell Tower, a not particularly spectacular tower, with a clock at the top, apparently the clock tower was a gift from Queen Victoria, and it chimes 16 notes before the hour, the same as London’s Big Ben, although the date stamped on it is 1936, so I’m not sure what that signifies.
Purcell Tower, Maymyo, Burma
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Heading for what had been the tax office in Tims Grandad, Herbert Edward Wall’s, day, you can’t help but notice how many colonial style buildings there are here still, especially given that this town has been made the home of the military, and how they apparently blame just about everything bad that ever happened in the last 60 years of their control on the British Empire. I wonder why they stopped short of levelling the lot and removing any possible memory of its colonial past. The tax office as it was, is now a hospital, so I opted to hang around outside while Tim went in for a look around with Azani, this was another important part of the pilgrimage for Tim, seeing where his Grandad would probably have worked, much like when he touched the door of 379 Dalhousie street in Rangoon. Next up was St Josephs school and church, both in the same complex, we’re greeted by nuns at the entrance, and they take us on a guided tour, Tim gets Granny iPad out again and tells them his Dad and Auntie would have gone to school here, and quite probably church too. As with a lot of places we’ve passed in Myanmar, the kids here seem to love playing football, which looks like it should be pretty awkward in their longhi’s, but they manage quite well, and bare foot, it’s a cool sight to see. The church and school are both catholic, but the vast majority of the pupils are Buddhists, the Mother Superior told us that the army have put walls around them without asking, claiming some of their land, and planted a tree next to one of their buildings, knowing full well it would grow fast and tall, with the roots damaging all around them. You soon become aware that no one has a good word to say about their army, they just express dismay that from where they stand, it appears the only way to get rich in Myanmar is to become a part of it.
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I felt bad for the nuns, as if there was unsaid stuff that they worry about, the army appear to be an unspoken enemy, in public at least, a story we have heard all across the country. We drove to the neat little colonial built Pyin Oo Lwin railway station after St Josephs, a quiet place with grass growing between the tracks, and workers pushing a cart along the track with all their hand tools on it, as usual we are the only westerners around. Like so many of these old places, I would love to just glimpse how things were a hundred years back, not through any sentiment, but for historical perspective, I’m quite aware of the brutality the British are recorded as having handed out across their dominions, but often no more than the brutal leaders they displaced, and the British Government were no better to their own working classes in those days.
Pyin Oo Lwin railway station, Maymyo, Burma
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As if it may have been planned from above, when Azani took us to the Feel restaurant, we were held up for a while because the military had been holding some kind of beano for a VIP there, and multiple expensive four wheel drive motors were queueing up to transport them out, all in aviator sunglasses and crisp uniforms, I raised my camera to try and sneak a few shots, but a couple of them stared right into our minibus as I was doing it and I’m ashamed to say I lost my bottle and lowered the camera, it’s funny how these things can affect you, but given what I’ve been told out here, had I been dragged out of the car and camera confiscated, I would only have had myself to blame.
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We finished this eventful sightseeing day with a trip to the National Kandawgi Botanical Gardens, which look as if they have come straight out of a Miss Marples novel, a sort of mini Kew Gardens around a lake, immaculately manicured, with every plant and tree named in Latin and English, as well as Burmese script, which looks at a glance like a load of slightly different circles. We walked up to the tower we had first seen from the Feel restaurant, but unfortunately it was a cloud filled day with intermittent rain, so the view wasnt great. There’s a lift to the top, which goes up ten storeys, which doubtless gives great vistas on a clear day, I could at least see our chalet at Hotel Pyin Oo Lwin through the mist. On the way back we got a tuk tuk, driving past an ancient looking wall very similar in design to the fort walls we had seen in Mandalay and Inwa, dusk was coming on, and soon we were contemplating our return to Mandalay the following day.
Some you notice here, is the ceaseless metallic drone of cicada beetles which echoes all around, you never see them, but can’t escape their sound.
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