The Golden Land (41 page)

Natalie thought a moment. ‘Mark told him. Michaelson sent an email offering more money and Mark emailed him back saying it was too late as I was already in Burma returning the kammavaca to Princess Aye Aye.'

‘So that is when he decided to take action. Michaelson must have thought that in Myanmar, where he has lots of contacts, stealing the kammavaca from you would be easy. Luckily Soe Soe and Mr P proved to be very adept at protecting both you and the manuscript.'

‘But Moss, if you knew the kammavaca was safe, why have you come?' asked Natalie.

‘When I learned via my friend in Yangon whom Soe Soe contacted that you were driving to the monastery to have the kammavaca translated, I just had to come and find out what it said. I also wanted to explain to you in person everything that had happened. I hope you don't mind,' replied Moss.

‘I suppose not, if it's all right with Aye Aye. It's her kammavaca now,' said Natalie.

Aye Aye straightened up. ‘I have my grandfather's kammavaca, thanks to you all, including you, Moss. I can hardly object to you finding out what it says. Now we have to wait for the abbot and hope that he might be the one to decipher the old Pali script. Since this is where my kammavaca was created, this monastery holds the key to its meaning.'

They walked back to the monastery, hoping to find the abbot. On the way, Natalie turned to Moss. ‘How did you get here so quickly?'

‘Speed boat from Mandalay. I started travelling as soon as Soe Soe told my friend that you were coming here. I was in India, near Kolkata, a relatively short hop away. I was able to get here in little more than a day. I hope you weren't too surprised.'

‘I have to say, when I first saw you walk out of that building a thousand suspicions flashed through my mind.'

‘Natalie, I felt a moral obligation to make sure things were all right with your mission. I admired what you wanted to do.'

‘Thank you. This has been an extraordinary trip. Quite wonderful.'

Eventually the abbot appeared, strolling slowly and thoughtfully across the open space between the kitchen and the monastery. He looked up and when he saw the small group waiting for him, he nodded and signalled for them to join him as he began slowly ascending the steps to his room.

‘He wants us to follow him,' said Moss.

‘Mr P, it would be nice if you could translate for me,' whispered Natalie. ‘Aye Aye might not want to be distracted by my asking questions all the time.'

‘I will be happy to do that, if it is all right with the abbot,' agreed Mr P.

They sat quietly in the room where they had first met the abbot yesterday. The abbot indicated that they should pull out the cushions that were stacked against the walls. Gracefully he sank onto a cushion, folded his legs into the lotus position and laid the kammavaca on the mat before him. Mr P sat slightly behind Natalie and Moss. Aye Aye sat directly opposite the abbot, with her head bowed.

The abbot began to speak. He went on at some length and Mr P whispered to Natalie, ‘He is describing how this kammavaca was created here, specifically for King Thibaw, and that different monks worked on each section so the whole was never known by any one monk except the abbot. The young monk who made the paintings became very famous. When the kammavaca was presented to the king, no-one knew he would shortly be forced into exile, except. . .'

Mr P listened to the monotonous timbre of the abbot's voice before continuing: ‘Except the old abbot of this monastery. He had seen a time of change coming, and he wanted to give the king some comfort when it would be needed.'

‘What does that mean?' whispered Natalie.

Mr P held up his hand as he concentrated on the abbot's words. As the old monk spoke, Aye Aye gave Mr P and Natalie a swift glance, which Natalie couldn't interpret.

The abbot picked up the kammavaca, opened it and read a section, quoting directly. Then he stared at Aye Aye as she absorbed what he'd said.

Mr P turned to Moss and Natalie, his eyes wide, a slightly stunned expression on his face. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. ‘It seems to be that the kammavaca holds the prophecy that the future of this country lies in the empowerment of the women of Burma, including the reinstatement of the authority of the nuns. The king and his descendants were entrusted with the scared knowledge that it will be women who will lead the country back to greatness.'

Mr P leaned towards Aye Aye. ‘Is that how you understand it? Of course, it is open to interpretation. The abbot at the time the kammavaca was made must have seen the British occupation coming and had a vision that a woman might restore Burma's sovereignty. But now, of course, the prophecy could apply to the overthrow of today's junta.'

Aye Aye nodded. ‘It's extraordinary and very powerful. To empower women. You know that Burmese women have always been strong, but to reinstate the nuns' authority, this is a stunning prophecy. That it will be a woman who leads Burma out of darkness. I am thinking of Aung San Suu Kyi.'

‘But she's still under house arrest,' said Natalie.

Mr P and Aye Aye exchanged a quick smile.

‘But her influence, her selflessness, her devotion to her country and her people gives all of us strength. If she can accept and wait and keep her faith strong, then so can we,' said Aye Aye.

‘So there is no message about any hidden riches?' said Natalie. ‘Sister Tin Tin Pe will be pleased about the nun's equality.'

‘You are right. But I'm not sure the monks will see it this way. It'll be controversial,' said Aye Aye. ‘It really is a treasure. What could be more valuable than this? Here we have a manifest, we have hope, we have documentation from our own past showing us the way forward. It will be formidable ammunition when the time comes.'

‘What does the abbot think?' asked Natalie, looking at the old monk's impassive face.

Aye Aye asked him and translated his answer for Natalie. ‘He says we all share virtues of purity, of morality, of concentration and of wisdom if we follow Buddha's teachings.'

Suddenly the monk lifted his finger and spoke more firmly.

Aye Aye repeated his words. ‘There was a prophecy that the sasana will last for five thousand years and that there will be a revival after two thousand five hundred years.' She turned to Natalie and her face lit up. ‘And that is the twenty-first century, which is now!'

Mr P was shaking his head. ‘This will give much hope to many people. It vindicates The Lady. If this information is told, it will be a crucial moment in our history.'

The abbot picked up the kammavaca, slid it into its box and bowed to Aye Aye, his hands beneath his chin.

She returned his gesture. ‘The monks will know when the time is right to tell of it. For now the kammavaca will be placed somewhere safe.'

Natalie caught her breath, absorbing the importance of the moment. ‘Will it be secure?' she whispered.

‘They will take it somewhere for safekeeping. It won't be left lying on a shelf here,' said Aye Aye firmly. ‘That was always meant to be the fate of this kammavaca. Its message is to be shown when it is needed.'

Each of them was quiet as they walked down the monastery steps towards the river.

Moss, who had been silent up until now, kept shaking his head. ‘I can't believe it. To be here, to witness this. Can it remain a secret?' he asked Mr P.

‘There will be whispers eventually, I am sure. But that is a good thing, because people will know that there is hope for the future.'

Aye Aye was walking with determination and some pride. ‘Democracy might seem a dream now in Myanmar, but it will come.'

‘I don't think Michaelson would have offered me forty thousand dollars for the kammavaca, or tried so hard to steal it, if he had realised what it contained,' Natalie said to Moss.

‘No,' he replied. ‘I'm sure he thought it would deliver him something of monetary value.'

‘I think the kammavaca's message is perfect,' said Natalie.

On the landing Natalie thanked Moss for his help before waving him goodbye. She stood in the sun watching the launch speed off into the distance through the sparkling water. She lifted her face to the sky, feeling the heat of the sun after the dim coolness of the shadowy monastery, and closed her eyes. She could hear the flapping wings of a large water bird as it swooped above the surface of the river, the papery rustle of bamboo leaves above her and the splash of the river against the bank. The sounds calmed her tumbling thoughts.

Had she just dreamed everything? Had she really rescued a small object that held a prophecy, a message of hope and a dream for the people of this far-off golden land in which she found herself? She had more than fulfilled the small, impossible dream of completing Uncle Andrew's journey. She had come to a strange land on a vague errand. Yet now she felt as one with this place. She had been able to step far out of her comfort zone with the faith that what she was doing was the right thing. And she had been rewarded.

The full import of the meaning of the kammavaca was still difficult to comprehend. But the rewards of her journey were incalculable. The friends, the beauty of the land, the knowledge she had gained, the inkling of what might yet be to come were wonderful. She had risen to challenges and had many new experiences, she had gained wisdom and compassion and now she knew that her horizons were limitless.

She was ready to return home.

EPILOGUE

November 2010

N
ATALIE'S MOBILE PHONE AND
computer were pinging with messages. The house phone rang before she reached her desk.

‘She's out! I don't think there's any TV coverage yet. See if you can find it on the radio.' Vicki was almost shouting. ‘It's wonderful.'

‘Fantastic! Even though it was announced, I didn't think it would happen until she walked outside her gate!' enthused Natalie. 'I must call Thi and Mi Mi!'

By the time Mark walked in the door from work, the children were jumping up and down, infected with their mother's joy at the news that Aung San Suu Kyi had been released from house arrest, although they had little idea what it all meant.

Natalie rushed at Mark and hugged him. ‘The Lady is out from house arrest. Isn't it wonderful! This is the start!'

‘Yes. A beginning.'

‘I mean, it's early days, but this is the first hopeful sign that things are going to change in Myanmar. There're crowds and crowds outside her house.'

Mark looked at Natalie's ecstatic face. ‘I'm glad you're glad. That is a pretty big deal. I suppose you'll be getting together with your Burma friends to celebrate?'

‘We've been talking. There's a long road ahead. Do you think the prophecy is coming true?'

‘I have no idea, Nat, but it's a start,' said Mark softly.

In her new sunroom Natalie looked out the window that faced the canal. She loved the way the light danced in from the bright water and spun rainbows through the glass ornaments lined up along the sill, especially Andrew's little red elephant from May Lin's glass factory in Yangon. She loved their renovated home, and the fact that Mark was now working back on the Gold Coast fulltime. The children were growing and happy. Life was good.

But there was a part of her that didn't bask in the sunshiny life of Queensland's paradise coast. Sometimes, in the crush of traffic jams or the noise of a shopping mall, Natalie would stop and suddenly recall the silent spread of the Bagan plains, sunlight and morning mist slowly revealing the ancient temples. Sometimes other visions of beautiful Burma, modern Myanmar, and its special people, flashed into her mind, making her smile.

She might never go back. But she would be watching and remembering. And hopeful.

Acknowledgements

To my beautiful grandchildren in the hope they will one day visit the Golden Land and discover a peaceful, democratic country.

To my adorable daughter-in-law Mimi and my son Dr Nicolas Morrissey. Thanks Nick for your help and knowledge, and the wonderful time you and I shared in Myanmar.

To my loving partner Boris Janjic for holding the fort, and for making my life so comfortable and such fun! Thank you, darling.

To my caring daughter Dr Gabrielle Morrissey Hansen, a fantastic mom, a dedicated educator and academic, and loving wife to dear Barrie. Thank you for your support and input. I'm very proud of you.

Very special thanks to my dear friend Janelle Saffin MP.

Thank you to my amazing editor and friend Liz Adams, whose valuable input challenges and pushes me, and who wrestles my hazy thoughts into focus and shares the daily battle of the book.

And to my friends: Australian Ambassador to Myanmar Bronte Moules (and Jantima); U Win Htein and Chit Suu, Eugene Quah and Wai Wai Kyaw, U Myo Thant, Gill Pattison, Ko Nay Dun Mya; Venerable monks Sayadaw Agga Nya and Sayadaw Vijja Nanda (Wiza); U Nay Oke; Thomas Soe and the Burmese community in Sydney; the well-travelled Greg Wisbey; Don M. Stadtner; Robert L. Brown, Professor of Art History at UCLA and Curator of South and Southeast Asian Art at LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art).

To my family at Pan Macmillan: Ross Gibb, Kate Nash, Samantha Sainsbury, Danielle Walker, Jane Hayes, Hayley Crandell and special thanks to Rowena Lennox for her attentive copy editing.