The Golden Land (13 page)

‘It's lovely to have your children here,' Thi said.

‘They would normally be at their preschool but everyone there has been sick and I didn't want them to bring home another bug. It's hard dealing with two sick children on your own,' said Natalie. ‘And it's worse when you get sick, too.'

‘You're on your own? That must be hard.'

‘Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that. My husband has a job where he works away from home for weeks at a time.'

‘It's difficult when your husband is away a lot,' agreed another woman. ‘When you have children, it is a demanding job on your own.'

Natalie looked across the room and saw a familiar face. She realised that it belonged to a woman she had regularly seen walking her dog past their house. She went over and introduced herself.

‘I'm Vicki Fletcher,' the blond woman responded. ‘So you live in Taylor Street, too? It's trite, but true: it is a small world, and it's great to see a new face in this group.'

‘Have you been coming to the Friends of Burma meetings for very long or are you new like me?'

‘I've been coming for a couple of years now,' Vicki replied. ‘The trouble is, the group doesn't seem to get any bigger. The Burmese are lovely people but they are not very good at selling themselves. What I'd like them to do is broaden their horizons. You wouldn't like to help, would you?'

Before Natalie could commit herself, Vicki greeted another woman entering the room.

‘It's wonderful to see you here, Mi Mi!' she exclaimed. ‘Natalie, I'd like you to meet Mi Mi Rao,' Vicki added.

Natalie smiled at the attractive Burmese woman who was probably in her early forties. Unlike Thi's unruly greying curls, Mi Mi had smooth jet-black hair pulled back in a tight coil at the nape of her neck. Natalie shook the woman's hand.

‘Mi Mi is a doctor. She donates her time to a clinic in Sydney,' said Thi, who came over to join them. ‘We have a clinic there to help migrants. It started out assisting the Burmese community in Sydney but as the number of new arrivals and refugees grew, more volunteers were needed to help guide people through the settlement process. The health of the refugees also became an issue, so Mi Mi decided to help out.'

‘I fly down every two weeks, just for the day. But there is always more help needed,' said Mi Mi.

‘This get-together is to finalise our plans for our information day,' said Thi. ‘I agree with Vicki that we need to get the message out there about what's happening in Burma, and that it's been happening for a long time. Mi Mi, tell Natalie your story. Then she will understand what I mean.'

‘It's such a long story, Thi. I'm not sure Natalie wants to hear it right now,' began the doctor.

‘It's the reason I asked her along!' said Thi forthrightly.

‘I'm really interested, Mi Mi. I would like to know more about Burma,' said Natalie. ‘When did you come to Australia? Did you come with your family?'

‘My family? No.' Mi Mi looked down, her face creased in pain. ‘I haven't seen my Burmese family in a very long time. I can't go back to see them. It would be too risky because of my activism. The authorities, the military junta, might detain me and I couldn't take that chance – of being kept in Burma and not being able to see my children.'

‘You mean like Aung San Suu Kyi?' asked Natalie, remembering what Thi had told her.

‘Yes.'

‘How old were you when you came here?'

‘I was in my twenties. I'll tell you as briefly as I can how I arrived in your country, although now it is my country, too.'

Thi stood up. ‘I'll leave you two for a bit. Have another coffee. I can see Vicki trying to get the committee together to talk about the information day. Don't worry about Charlotte and Adam, Natalie, it looks as though they're enjoying themselves.'

Natalie glanced at her children as they sat with a group of Burmese, and she smiled. ‘Who is that man?' she asked Thi, nodding to the man in the group.

‘That's Thomas. He's a lovely man who's suffered a lot and also has an amazing story to tell,' replied Thi as she moved away towards the other committee members, who were seated around the table.

‘What happened to you, Mi Mi? Why did you leave Burma?' asked Natalie, who now realised that the people in this room had stories and it was important for them to share them with outsiders. So she felt no shyness in asking Mi Mi for hers.

‘I left not long after the 1988 uprising. You have heard of it?' Mi Mi started.

Natalie shook her head.

‘The uprising was due to one man, General Ne Win. He was the head of the junta that had ruled Burma since 1962, when the army staged a coup. Under him, Burma became isolated from the rest of the world, politically and economically. Ne Win retired in 1981, but still effectively governed the country because Burma is a one-party state and he controlled the party. Then, in 1987, he made a decision that made the poor economy of the country even worse. He was a very superstitious man and he was told that nine was a lucky number, so he had all the denominations of money that weren't divisible by the number nine cancelled. The only notes that he wanted to keep were the forty-five and ninety kyat note. All others had to be destroyed. Because most people held notes of other values, their savings were destroyed. Burma was bankrupted. My parents lost all their money and my mother had to sell her jewellery to survive.'

Natalie looked at Mi Mi in disbelief.

‘Have I got this right? General Ne Win destroyed people's savings and bankrupted his country because he believed that nine was a lucky number? That's insane.'

‘Then students started to revolt around the University of Rangoon and the whole country grew restless, especially after a student, Phone Maw, was shot. Ordinary people, workers, housewives, people from all levels of society and even the monks began to join in the protests. In August 1988 there was a general strike and thousands marched demanding change. Aung San Suu Kyi addressed the crowds and called for democracy. Suddenly there was general euphoria throughout the country, a belief that things would get better.

‘Despite its natural riches everyone in Burma, except the members of the junta, was poor. We had been ruled by a one-party regime that was worse than the Soviet government under Stalin. People had been very downtrodden and afraid to speak out. They'd felt they had to accept that this was how things were done in Burma, and just hope that one day change would come and they would be allowed to speak freely, mix with whomever they wanted, and even openly criticise the government. But the army had no intention of changing anything and during one protest march, they started to shoot the protestors. At least three thousand pro-democracy supporters were killed.'

‘That's terrible,' said Natalie. ‘How could the army fire on their own people?'

‘Who was there to stop them?' Mi Mi asked. ‘I was there. I tried to help the injured. Doctors, nurses, even medical students like me, all tried to help those who were wounded. My parents were very concerned for me, but they also wanted to stand against the government. Many people were arrested.'

She looked away and Natalie asked quietly. ‘You were arrested, too?'

Mi Mi lowered her voice and spoke in an unemotional tone, as though she had told this story many times before. ‘I was detained for several months with no charges brought against me. It was a difficult time, not just for me, but for everyone who was locked up without justification. Men were beaten and psychologically and physically tortured. Women were raped.' She stopped and looked at Natalie, who understood that this had happened to Mi Mi.

‘What did you do? What happened?' she asked, not taking her eyes from Mi Mi's unflinching gaze.

‘When I was released, I spoke to my family and told them I had to leave Rangoon. They were worried for my safety and understood. My father told me to follow what I believed.' Mi Mi's voice wavered.

‘I went to Karen, which is near the Thai border. Students organised pro-democracy demonstrations and public forums about human rights and political systems. The Buddhist monks in the area made sure that our demonstrations remained peaceful. Senior monks even stayed with us at our headquarters, which was in part of a Buddhist temple compound.

‘Although I was still not a qualified doctor I helped treat the sick and the wounded. The military began to reassert its authority, but the monks kept us safe until we were able to secretly leave for Thailand. Tens of thousands fled, university students, young people and intellectuals. They took different routes, but eventually they joined the rebel groups in the border area of Thailand and maintained armed opposition to the junta.

‘I lived in a Thai village, but I crossed over the border at night to treat the wounded fighters. I met quite a few other students who had come from Rangoon. In fact, several of them are now here, in Australia. We were a dedicated student army but we had come straight from the classroom and had no military training. We had few weapons and, although there was support from outside, we weren't really skilled at warfare.'

‘How long did you stay in the border region? Did you ever get the chance to go back and see your parents?' asked Natalie. She glanced over at her children, and thought how terrible it would be not to ever see Charlotte and Adam again. ‘I can't imagine living like that.'

‘It was tough fighting the military regime in the jungle. They poisoned our wells and our food, and we had a group of ex-soldiers and thugs penetrate our headquarters. We knew we could not go back to Rangoon without being arrested or, at the very least, making trouble for our families. A few decided to take the risk and return, but the rest of us were resettled in other countries as political refugees, under the UNHCR. I went first to India then back to Thailand, helping as best I could.' She paused. ‘We had some unofficial political support and financial help from people who were sympathetic. Some of us were given travel documents and money. With this help I was able to leave Thailand and come to Australia. I later heard that the Burmese army went to the border region and wiped out the villages where the student army had been based. But that student army was an important part of modern Burmese history, and I am very proud to have been in it.'

Natalie was trying to picture herself in a similar position, cut adrift, unable to see her family, unable to live in her country. She simply couldn't conceive the idea. ‘How did you manage after you arrived in Australia?'

‘At first the Burmese community here helped me. My Burmese medical credentials weren't recognised and I had never been able to finish my course, anyway, so I had to start again and study and pass my exams until I finally qualified as a doctor. I met my husband, whose family came originally from India, and who is also a doctor. We married and had children and now I work part-time in his practice.' She lifted her shoulders. ‘I have never been back, and I have never seen any of my Burmese family again.'

Natalie stared at her. ‘That's awful. It's so sad. I can't imagine not seeing my mother again. We are very close.'

‘My parents made me promise that I would consider my future. They did not think that I would have a bright one if I stayed in Burma. In recent years we've made contact with each other. We've exchanged letters and I've sent them photos of their grandchildren and my husband, and I've got messages to them telling them my phone number. I'd like to send them money, but they are still being watched.

‘People are afraid of a knock on the door and being taken away, never to be seen again, and for no reason. My parents are elderly, so I didn't want to distress them by causing them any trouble. They are content that I got out of Burma and they are happy that I've made a new life. But I did get a call one night. I could hardly hear the person on the other end of the line, but I realised that it was my mother. She wanted me to know that she was proud of me and that I had made the right choice. She said that she hoped she'd live long enough to see Burma a free country. She said that everyone supported The Lady but that people were still very afraid of the military and what it could do to those who campaigned for freedom.' Mi Mi smiled gently, but tears shone in the corners of her eyes.

‘The Burmese people ask for support in our fight for democracy, because it is so hard for us to have freedom in our country without help.'

Natalie was very moved and glanced outside to the safe, sunny garden where Thi and Thomas were now pushing Charlotte and Adam on the swings. ‘There must be lots of stories like yours. But hearing about Burma makes me feel quite helpless. The country is so far away, what can I do? It's not like raising awareness for a temporary crisis, is it? This is ongoing repression and it's so wrong. It makes me realise we are lucky to live in Australia.'

Mi Mi nodded. ‘The generals do not allow any interference. There are people working behind the scenes, trying to organise international pressure for change, but it is very, very difficult.' She looked at her coffee, which had gone cold. ‘I'm glad you came. You can help Burma by simply talking to your friends. Talk to the others here, too. I'm sorry that I monopolised you.'

‘No, you certainly have not. I'm so pleased that you shared your story with me. I hope we see each other again,' said Natalie sincerely.

‘I'm sure we will. You will come to the information day? We Burmese living in Australia just wish that our country had the same opportunities for its people as Australia has. All we can do is keep speaking from the heart, hoping that people will understand.' She stood up. ‘I'd better go and talk to the other committee people. Bye for now.'

Natalie watched her carry her cup to the small kitchen.

Thi came in and pointed to the garden. ‘Thomas has won a couple of hearts out there.'

‘I didn't expect him to look after my kids the whole time,' said Natalie. ‘It's very kind of him.'