The Golden Land (38 page)

‘This place is famous because of Paul Theroux, the travel writer. He stayed here and mentioned it in his book
The Great Railway Bazaar
. He came back again not long ago to see the family who had run the hotel for many, many years. It is now owned by the government. Maybe it will open again one day.'

‘I hope Paul Theroux doesn't come back any time soon. I'm sure he would be sad,' said Natalie.

They drove into the township, complete with an old-fashioned clock tower and a neat row of shops and eateries. Mr P pointed out a huge area of beautiful gardens, with beds full of glorious flowers.

‘This is such a surprise!' exclaimed Natalie. ‘This place doesn't look like Burma. It seems quite foreign!'

Mr P chuckled. ‘Yes, not a monk or a pagoda in sight.'

In the centre of Pyin Oo Lwin the streets were jammed with loaded trucks, tankers and wagons.

‘They are all using the new road into China,' explained Mr P.

They drove away from the town's centre to where the dark wave of hills rolled towards the west in shrouded mist. Through dripping pines Natalie glimpsed a group of buildings that she could not quite make out.

‘What is that, Mr P? It looks like a posh housing estate or maybe a rich corporate enclave. Do you have places like that in Burma?'

Mr P asked Soe Soe to turn into a road leading towards the complex of buildings Natalie had spotted. A sentry's gatehouse stood at the entrance, but the whole place look deserted.

‘What are these building? It doesn't look finished. How extraordinary. This place must have cost millions and millions to construct,' said Natalie, peering at the glass-fronted contemporary buildings. ‘How can it just be left here?'

‘I've heard about this,' said Mr P, craning his neck forward, trying to get a better look at the buildings. ‘It's called Yatanarpon Cyber City and I believe it covers four thousand hectares. Two Chinese companies started building it a couple of years ago, to train information technology and communications students, but they seem to have come to a stop.'

‘There's no-one around. Why don't we drive in and have a look?' said Natalie.

‘I think we've had enough trouble for one day. Let's go and check in to our hotel and freshen up and see if we can call Princess Aye Aye to let her know that you've arrived.'

Their hotel, like many they'd passed in Pyin Oo Lwin, was eccentrically quaint. It was called The Welcome and Natalie was delighted when she saw that the clipped grass gardens were studded with massive old eucalyptus trees. ‘Well, that makes me feel welcome.'

The main building had wisteria climbing over the portico and the lavender petals from a jacaranda tree melted into the lawn. A smiling man came out to help them.

Natalie stepped into the lobby, which looked as though it had not been redecorated for years, though it was spotlessly clean. In it was a circle of heavy wooden armchairs with antimacassars, some small tables topped with lace doilies, old-fashioned ashtray stands and, above the open fireplace, a banner with ‘Welcome' painted on it. At the small reception desk two smiling women waited. Beyond the lobby, Natalie could see a glassed-in dining room where the tables were set with small glass vinegar jugs, sauce bottles in crocheted dresses, silver-topped salt and pepper shakers and cut-glass sugar bowls. It was all very proper but modest.

Natalie followed the hotel attendant up the gleaming polished wooden staircase to the first floor. The hallway featured dark wooden panelling and a worn carpet. Her bedroom was very old-fashioned, probably decorated circa 1930. She smiled and thanked the attendant as he put her bag at the foot of the bed.

When Natalie pulled the elderly net curtain to one side, she looked down into the back garden and the remnants of a tennis court with its tattered netting, cracked surface and sagging mesh fence.

The small bathroom was also old but the water gurgling from the large brass tap was hot. Natalie washed her face, changed her top, took off her creased slacks and put on a long skirt, knotting her shirt at her waist. She smoothed her hair, put on some fresh lipstick and, on an impulse, took a fresh rose from the vase on the dressing table and tucked it in her hair before she went downstairs carrying her shoulder bag.

Mr P smiled when he saw her. ‘I have found the phone number for the princess. We can call from the desk here. I think she would prefer some notice rather than our simply arriving on her doorstep.'

‘I'm feeling nervous. I can't believe I'm finally here.'

The girl at the desk made the call then handed Natalie the Bakelite telephone receiver.

‘Hello, hello, Princess Aye Aye? This is Natalie Cutler.' Natalie turned to Mr P, her eyes shining as she listened to the voice at the other end of the line. She had reached her destination.

T
HEY DROVE THROUGH AN
area dotted with large bungalows that were once the holiday homes of the wealthy British when they ruled Burma. Princess Aye Aye had invited Natalie and Mr P to share Devonshire tea with her. Her directions to her lodgings had been precise. The Empire Hotel was well away from the main road, as though not wanting to promote its presence. Indeed if they hadn't been looking out for it, they could have easily passed its entrance, which was tucked between tall trees. The driveway wound up to a side entrance. The front of the hotel looked across a valley with views to the distant hills. The windows were shuttered and the place had the air of being closed for the season.

As they walked into the lobby, Natalie noticed that one of the main rooms was filled with furniture sleeping beneath dust covers. But there was a vase of fresh flowers on the reception desk and when they rang the brass bell a man appeared. Perhaps, thought Natalie, he is the Burmese equivalent of the trusty old retainer. He was courteous and asked them to take a seat while he rang through to inform Princess Aye Aye that her guests had arrived. He then led them along a corridor and through double glass doors beautifully etched with art deco birds and flowers and the words ‘Private Dining Room'.

It was a small room. In the centre was a round table, immaculately set with a generous damask table cloth, silver and china. When they were seated, the attendant spread starched napkins on their laps with a flourish. Natalie's cup had the words ‘The Empire Hotel, Burma' embossed on the rim.

‘Very old-style British,' commented Mr P.

‘Nevertheless, we do try to keep abreast of current events. And you must be Mrs Cutler.' A woman who could only be Aye Aye sailed towards them, smiling, her hand outstretched to greet them.

She was dressed in a pale green longyi of fine wool and an embroidered silk blouse. A fine shawl, draped as a scarf, hung around her neck. Her hair was coiled high on her head and secured by a delicate pin. Her skin was a creamy olive, surprisingly unlined. Her dark brown eyes seemed to take them both in and pass immediate judgment, which seemed to be favourable.

‘I am so pleased you could come. This is a wonderful occasion.' Her voice was warm and musical.

Both Natalie and Mr P rose from the table and Natalie said, ‘Please, call me Natalie. This is U Phyu Myint, my friend.'

Mr P gestured mingalabar and murmured that it was an honour and pleasure to meet the princess Aye Aye.

‘I am simply Aye Aye. You will take tea with me? The traditional Devonshire tea is a specialty here. Tell me, Natalie, how do you like the local food?'

‘I enjoy it very much, although some dishes are very spicy. But they're all delicious.'

A silver teapot, cream jug and sugar bowl were placed on the table as well as perfect, mouth-watering warm scones and what was obviously homemade strawberry jam. They ate the scones and Aye Aye asked Natalie about her friend Mi Mi. ‘I first met her years ago when she was working in a refugee camp in Thailand,' she told Natalie.

‘She's very well and hoping so much that one day she will be able to visit Myanmar,' Natalie replied.

‘Yes,' replied Aye Aye. ‘Perhaps one day. Now where have you been in my country?'

Natalie told her and was particularly enthusiastic about her visit to Bagan.

‘And what about you, Aye Aye? Do you live all the time in Myanmar or do you travel?' asked Natalie.

‘Oh, I spent a lot of time in Thailand. I was always entranced by the stories of my royal predecessors' interest in white elephants. My grandfather and great grandfather both had white elephants when they lived in Mandalay and I have become interested in them, too.'

‘You mean they're real?' exclaimed Natalie.

Aye Aye leaned back and smiled. ‘They certainly are. Have you ever seen one?' she asked Mr P, who shook his head.

‘I thought they were mythical,' said Natalie.

‘No, they exist. Actually, they aren't pure white, more pale pink. They're a strain of albino. Because they are so rare, they are revered and people believe they are powerful and magical and are related to auspicious predictions.'

‘Natalie, Aye Aye is famous for her love of elephants and she has worked to protect them for years,' said Mr P.

Aye Aye smiled. ‘I lived for many years in Thailand actually where I started a sanctuary to protect elephants. It became quite large, and included several white elephants. Now I work to protect the elephants in Myanmar. They are being threatened by so many dangers. Poachers hunt them and their habitat is being destroyed. I know my grandfather dressed his white elephants with sprays of diamonds on their heads and jewel-encrusted ornaments, and even let them drink from a golden trough, yet they were kept chained in the palace compound. Once you see elephants in their own environment, free to go to the river and bathe, you can't bear to see them mistreated in captivity. You become very attached to them. I was working with my elephants in Thailand when I met my husband.'

‘Was he working with elephants, too?' asked Natalie. She could see that Aye Aye was enjoying relating her story, and Natalie wanted to hear more about her life.

‘He was an English botanist who realised that we were losing plants and animals from tropical rainforests very rapidly. Rare plants often disappear even before they are documented. I try to carry on his work here in Myanmar, to have wildlife sanctuaries established to conserve the natural resources. But it is difficult to continue this work as the policies of the military government are unpredictable and they do not see the value of rare plants and animals compared with the money other natural resources like oil, gas, minerals and timber bring.'

‘You still work? Do you look for new plants?' asked Natalie.

‘Yes. I have a small team from the university and some visiting international institutions like the Smithsonian who work with us. My ultimate dream is to have a proper botanical conservatory like Kew Gardens, where all of Myanmar's specimens can be housed. One of the reasons I enjoy it here in Pyin Oo Lwin is the climate. There are wonderful gardens established here by the British and which the local government have turned into a showcase for Burmese plant biodiversity and a place for Burmese people to come and appreciate their national plant heritage.'

‘So when you are in Myanmar, you live here?' asked Natalie.

‘That's right. I always enjoy the change of climate.'

Natalie studied the elegant woman, who seemed to be in her late seventies, but who still exuded enthusiasm for what she was doing. ‘It's wonderful work Aye Aye.'

Aye Aye nodded in acknowledgment of the compliment.

With the tea and scones finished, Mr P rose and excused himself. ‘I know you two have much to talk about. I shall walk back into town – it's not far and I shall enjoy the air – but Soe Soe will wait for you, Natalie. It has been an honour to meet you,' he said to Aye Aye.

After Mr P quietly left the room, the attendant removed the afternoon tea cups and plates.

Natalie shook her head. ‘I never imagined that we'd be sitting down to scones and tea.'

‘Perhaps you would like to move out onto the terrace? It is pleasant out there and the view is spectacular,' said Aye Aye.

They crossed the room and opened the door that led to the main dining room. It had a vaulted, moulded ceiling and an elaborate bar reminiscent of an English pub, as well as a dance floor.

‘What is that?' asked Natalie, peering through the gloom at what looked like a polished length of glass ringed by Grecian columns. As they walked closer Natalie exclaimed, ‘It's a swimming pool! In the middle of the dining room floor? It looks fabulous.'

‘Indeed. And look above. See how cleverly the roof opens up!'

They skirted the art deco pool and went out onto a stone terrace. Aye Aye selected a low lounge and settled herself gracefully at one end before she took out a long slim cheroot and lit it.

Natalie looked at her bag. ‘I feel there should be a little ceremony when I give you this.'

Aye Aye nodded. ‘Yes, we Burmese like ceremonies.'

Natalie took her bag off her shoulder and suddenly held it tightly to her chest. Through it she could feel every item she'd carried; her wallet, notebook, a small toiletries bag, the camera Mr P had lent her and the kammavaca, a solid shape securely tucked at the very bottom.

‘I'm a bit nervous about taking it out. I've been so afraid of losing it or having it stolen. It's been close to me for so long. It's such a responsibility. I really can't believe that this is the big moment.' Natalie slowly reached into her bag and pulled out the box wrapped in her silk scarf. She looked at it and shook her head. ‘Do you know, Aye Aye, that this little thing was among a lot of junk in my mother's shed? It could so easily have been thrown out.'

Aye Aye didn't take her eyes from Natalie's face as Natalie held the kammavaca in both hands.

Slowly Natalie continued. ‘But the minute I really looked at it, I felt as though I was transported, as if I was in the grounds of that beautiful old monastery with the white elephant. It was a place totally strange and unknown to me, but I felt so drawn to it. That must seem odd to you. And then I learned about its connection with my uncle and its association with your family. I knew that I had to finish what he had started and see that the kammavaca was returned. Of course, never in my wildest dreams did I expect to be the one to complete the journey. To be here . . .' She stopped, suddenly at a loss.

Aye Aye nodded. ‘The kammavaca could have been returned to me in other ways, but it is right that it comes from your hands to mine. I hoped that you could fulfill your offer to return the kammavaca to me, but I would not have blamed you if you had changed your mind. And when I knew you were on your way, I prayed that your journey would be a safe one. So here you are.' Suddenly there was no mistaking the excitement and joy in her face.

Natalie held the kammavaca out to her and their hands touched as they both briefly held the small box. Natalie released her grip and sat back in her chair to watch Aye Aye's face as she began to unwrap the silk scarf. At first Aye Aye simply smoothed her hands over the little polished wood box. Natalie tried to imagine the thoughts running through her mind. She understood her deliberation and hesitation in opening it. Aye Aye was savouring each moment.

‘I wonder about the people who held and revered this small object before it reached me? People long gone, but now your gift has closed the circle,' said Aye Aye. Slowly she slid the box open, took out the kammavaca, unrolled it and studied each section. Natalie had no idea how much time elapsed as she watched Aye Aye carefully examining the treated cloth and delicate binding, absorbing all the illustrations. She turned it over several times and looked intently at the old script.

‘I cannot read this. As I suppose it was meant to be. But the paintings, they are beautiful. A labour of love. I'm sure there is a meaning in each of these.' She put her glasses on and peered at the little pictures Natalie knew by heart.

‘I'm very fond of the white elephant,' said Natalie.

‘A symbol of peace, prosperity, good fortune. You're right. It is lovely.' Aye Aye returned to studying each of the sections of the kammavaca. ‘It seems to have an almost feminine appeal, don't you think?' Slowly she refolded the kammavaca, placed it on the table and looked at Natalie. ‘Thank you,' she said softly.

Natalie felt tears spring to her eyes, and struggled to keep her feelings in check. ‘I never imagined when I found the kammavaca it would lead to such a strange journey. I know your grandfather thought that the kammavaca was very important, so it's good that it's come back into his family.'

‘This kammavaca has certainly been a legend. King Thibaw always kept it with him. Some contend that is because it was the last gift he received before he was deposed, but I am inclined to believe another rumour that I heard from some of my relatives. It is said that the monks who gave Thibaw the kammavaca incorporated a message in it.'

Natalie stared at the princess. ‘What sort of message?' she asked.

‘The monks sometimes had knowledge that they would pass on, but the messages were written in such a way that they needed to be deciphered by scholars. Sometimes these messages might be prophecies or special instructions, or sometimes they might be about more tangible things, such as where certain relics had been hidden or where treasure or riches could be found. These secret messages vary a lot.'

‘That's incredible. I thought about trying to get the writing on the kammavaca deciphered, but everyone told me that they were most likely religious texts,' said Natalie.

‘That may well be right, but the rumours that circulated in my family make me think that there might be more here than just the usual religious texts. Thibaw made it clear that on his death, the kammavaca should go to his half sister Tipi Si because she was a strong woman. He seemed to think it was important for the women of my family to protect it and keep it safe.'