The Golden Land

by Di Morrissey

  ‘Yes. Vicki has already been speaking to me about it. I’ll be there. I’m going to try and spread the word among my friends. I’m slowly coming to grips with the story of Aung San Suu Kyi. But so many people haven’t heard of her.’

  ‘They will. This is what the rally is all about. Telling people about The Lady. Our country has been locked away from the world for many years, and she is our hope to bring the light back into Burma and its people.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope she will be released from house arrest some day soon,’ said Natalie, though she couldn’t imagine how one woman confined to her house could bring about any kind of change at all, let alone democracy and freedom.

  ‘What sort of a house is she in?’ she asked Mi Mi suddenly. ‘I’m trying to get a picture of what it must be like.’

  ‘The family home where she lives is a big old colonial house, badly in need of repair, with large unkept gardens. It is in an area of grand homes and foreign residences, left over from the colonial days, and has a wonderful view of Lake Inya. She is permitted very few visitors and only has a maid to help her. She is allowed little communication with the outside world, no internet, and her phone is always monitored but ways have been found to keep in touch with her and tell her what is going on. The generals treat her better than many of her followers. The fact that she is confined to her house shows what high respect there still is for her late father and her role in assuming his mantle, although I think that the generals know that they could not dare hurt her without the wrath of the world coming down on them. Others are not so fortunate. People who have shown their support for her have been sentenced to long stays in Insein Prison, which is a horrific place. Many are in solitary confinement,’ said Mi Mi.

  ‘I can’t imagine what it would be like for Aung San Suu Kyi to spend year after year in such isolation when you know that your country needs you. She must feel so impotent,’ said Natalie, trying to visualise the lonely, imprisoned lady by the lake.

  ‘She says her mind is not imprisoned. And she has her faith, she’s a very devout Buddhist. Which reminds me, what about your kammavaca? Do you still have it? It is a very beautiful example. Have you done anything more about it?’

  ‘Yes, there have been a few developments. I wrote to a dealer in London, trying to find out more information about it and he has come back with an offer to buy it. Then Mark’s friend Brad put it on the net and offers for it have rolled in, which is quite astounding.’

  ‘Perhaps you should get in touch with Aye Aye, the princess I was telling you about. She doesn’t think of herself as a princess, but she is a royal descendant. She might know something about it. I’ve got her address if you’d like to write to her. No email in Burma,’ she added. ‘And the mail service is pretty irregular. A letter might reach her quickly or it could take three weeks or it could never get there. But perhaps you’d like to try?’

  ‘Absolutely!’ said Natalie, suddenly very excited. ‘You said her English was good? Or should I have my letter translated into Burmese?’

  ‘No, that’s not necessary. Her English is excellent. Aye Aye was born in India after the family were exiled. Aye Aye’s grandmother was quite ambitious. She was eighteen when she became the fourth wife of King Thibaw and she was determined that her children should be well educated. Aye Aye’s mother thought the same, so Aye Aye was sent to a very good English school in Calcutta. Anyway, Aye Aye eventually returned to Burma, so I’ll give you her address.’

  ‘Just a moment, while I get a pen.’

  That evening Natalie thought of what she could write to the princess but in the end she decided to keep the letter brief by explaining how she came by the kammavaca and asking if the princess could tell her anything about it. As an afterthought, she enclosed a copy of Uncle Andrew’s letter.

  The following weekend, Natalie arranged to meet some of the other mothers from the preschool at a new children’s play centre Jodie had told them about. It was a large barn of a place but had easy parking. When they got inside Natalie, as well as the children, were delighted to find they’d entered a captivating toyland.

  The centre was built as a miniature township with a long main street with small replica buildings in which the children could play. Some had dress-up clothes, in others there were little cars, trucks and equipment to entertain them. A fire station was complete with helmets, jackets, buckets and non-working hoses. Outside stood a big red, pedal fire truck, with whistles and a bell that the little boys, in particular, liked to use. The girls loved the beauty salon where they could do each other’s hair and give make-believe manicures. The cake shop, bakery, and fruit and vegetable shops were all well stocked with plastic produce and equipped with small shopping trolleys. Young, uniformed women walked the streets, keeping the children busy by helping them to operate the toys and encouraging them to share.

  Throughout the centre, parents sat chatting around wrought-iron tables set under pretty arbours, next to banks of artificial flowers. Natalie was pleased to see half a dozen of her friends gathered around one of the tables. They greeted her, wanting to hear the latest update on her forthcoming baby. But when they asked what she’d been up to, Natalie surprised them by saying, ‘I’ve been a bit swept up in helping some friends. In fact, I’m glad you’re here, I’m wondering if any of you could help out as well.’

  ‘Who, what, when?’ asked Jodie. ‘Of course we’ll help.’

  ‘Is someone in trouble? Sick?’ asked Emma.

  ‘You’re all so nice. No, it’s not quite like that,’ Natalie took a deep breath. ‘It’s about helping a whole lot of people, and celebrating the birthday of a very important woman. I’ll try and fill you in as best I can. But if you come along, you’ll learn more.’

  ‘Come along where?’ asked another mother, cutting to the chase.

  Natalie tried to frame her words carefully. ‘It’s a rally. It’s sort of political, but mainly to show support for a woman who can’t leave her house, who can’t be with her family and who, by her quiet dignity and dedication, has earned the love and respect not just of people in her own country, but of people all around the world.’

  ‘Is this about that woman in Burma that I heard you mention before?’ said Holly.

  ‘Aung San Suu Kyi,’ said Jodie quietly.

  Natalie nodded. ‘This birthday party is to recognise that she has been held for another year under house arrest. She has been in and out of house arrest since 1989 so the group I’ve become involved with, the Friends of Burma, are holding this rally to bring her plight to the attention of Australians.’

  ‘It sounds terrible, but what good is this birthday event going to do?’ said Holly. ‘Us being there isn’t going to make much of an impact in Burma. I mean, I’m always happy to help people, Natalie, but this cause is a bit far from home.’

  ‘I can understand why you’d think that. I didn’t know a thing about Burma till I found my uncle’s letter,’ agreed Natalie. ‘But now I’ve met some Burmese people and I’m hearing the appalling things that have happened to them and their country. The people there are very poor because the country is so isolated economically and the ruling military takes everything. They don’t deserve what’s happened to them. I really want to help them.’

  ‘The generals who run Burma lead privileged lives, but everyone else lives in poverty,’ said Jodie. The other women stared at her.

  ‘Jodie studied Burma at uni,’ explained Natalie.

  One of the mothers looked at Natalie as she said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this woman.’

  ‘Oh, I have,’ replied Peta, the mother of one of Charlotte’s friends. ‘I’ve heard that she’s very brave and I’ve seen pictures of her, too. She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?’

  ‘So tell us this Burmese woman’s story,’ said Emma.

  Between them, Natalie and Jodie explained how Aung San Suu Kyi had turned her back on her privileged life in England to lead the pro-democracy movement in Burma and how her party had won the 1989 elections
but had never been allowed to form government.

  ‘The military rulers of Burma were so frightened by her popularity that they imprisoned her in her own house.’

  ‘How horrible!’ exclaimed Emma.

  ‘It gets worse,’ said Natalie and explained how Aung San Suu Kyi had had to choose between her country and her dying husband.

  There was a moment of silence as the women digested this story.

  ‘Could she speak to her husband on the phone?’ asked Holly.

  ‘Yeah, that was allowed but their phone calls were always monitored and they kept getting cut off.’

  ‘You might have seen photos of her standing at her fence in front of her house, talking to crowds,’ said Jodie. ‘She’s always smiling, always calm. Always has fresh flowers in her hair. The stories about her are legion. Some people are born to lead, I guess.’

  ‘Makes our lives seem pretty lacklustre,’ said Holly.

  ‘You just wonder about that sacrifice. I think I would have gone to my dying husband,’ said Emma. ‘Who looked after her sons?’

  ‘They were young adults when their father died, so I suppose they had to look after themselves. Anyway, Aung San Suu Kyi continues to fight for democracy in Burma. Later, when she formed her own political party, she was put under house arrest again, and there she remains,’ said Natalie.

  ‘She won the Nobel Peace Prize, but of course she wasn’t allowed to collect it. But at least it highlighted her activities to the rest of the world,’ added Jodie.

  ‘Will anything ever change?’ asked Peta.

  ‘Well, it won’t if people do nothing,’ said Natalie firmly, surprising herself. ‘Pressure from outside governments is one way to go. And apparently word gets back to her and other Burmese that there are people outside Burma supporting them. So, the rally is next Saturday at Sir Bruce Small Park. Tents, food, a birthday cake. There’ll be a few speeches, but nothing too heavy,’ said Natalie. ‘Jodie, can you come?’

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it for anything.’

  ‘I’ll try to come along. If it’s at the park I could bring the kids. Sounds like a good thing to do,’ said Emma.

  It was a bright Saturday morning, with soft breezes cooling the warmth of the sun. As Natalie pushed her double stroller along the path that weaved across the clipped green lawns, she was relieved to see other people heading in the same direction.

  A large marquee, strung with bunting, had been erected in a corner of the park. Inside it was a podium that faced rows of plastic chairs and at the back of the tent were three trestle tables spread with pamphlets, a large book for people to sign petitioning the Burmese ambassador, and a huge birthday card, to be signed and sent to the Security Council of the United Nations. A large poster of a serious Aung San Suu Kyi, her trademark flowers in her hair, was hung below a banner that read: ‘Democracy in Burma. Free Aung San Suu Kyi.’

  Food stalls were selling Burmese food and handmade crafts to raise funds. This was staffed by women from the Burmese community who served everyone with cheerful banter and a lot of laughter. The day had the air of a picnic rather than a political rally.

  Natalie spotted Jodie with her children, and soon saw Emma and Holly together with their children. The friends greeted each other and the children all started playing and chattering. When the PA system crackled to life the adults settled into the plastic chairs while the children sat on the grass beside them.

  Thi stepped up to the microphone to welcome everybody on behalf of the Friends of Burma. She then spoke of Aung San Suu Kyi’s courage, her resolution, her wisdom, her principles, and her kindness and humour. She hoped that the words from the next two speakers would help to illustrate the reasons the Friends of Burma were staging this rally. She emphasised how important it was to let the people of Burma know they were not alone in their struggles.

  Holly leaned towards Natalie and whispered, ‘Do you think that Aung San Suu Kyi will really know we’re all here for her birthday?’

  ‘Apparently,’ said Natalie. ‘But I don’t think that all the people of Burma are as well informed, though.’

  Mi Mi was the next speaker and her passionate speech called for the United Nations Security Council to launch an investigation into Burma’s repressive regime and its denial of civil rights for its people. ‘The very basic rights we take for granted as Australian citizens are denied to the women and men in Myanmar.’ Then she told the audience her story.

  The crowd listened quietly, trying to absorb the horrors of life in Burma while they sat in the sunshine and security of the park.

  ‘That’s just awful,’ Jodie whispered to Natalie.

  ‘I know,’ said Natalie. ‘Hearing it again makes me see a whole new level of awfulness. I don’t know what I’d do if I knew I wouldn’t ever see my mother again.’

  After Mi Mi, Thomas took his place at the microphone and gave a hesitant smile, obviously nervous. Slowly he began to tell his story.

  Like Mi Mi, Thomas had been part of the 1988 student uprising. When the pro-democracy party had been denied the right to form government, he’d used his talents as a writer to tell people what was happening in Burma, both within his country and internationally. Because he was married, he knew that his outspokenness put his family at risk, so he decided to move. Sleeping in a different safe house every night, he headed towards the border and safety in a Thai refugee camp.

  But in the city his wife and her family were followed and watched. Her parents’ house was searched by the military looking for him, so his wife decided that, to protect her parents, she had to leave them and follow her husband, though she had no clear idea of where he was. Thomas explained that in Burma there was a support network among the ordinary people, students, villagers and monks, which provided a cobweb of shelters for those trying to reach the refugee camps, even though those taking part in the network had little food to share and took great risks just by being involved.

  After many weeks, using this network Thomas’s wife managed to enter a refugee camp in Thailand. But conditions in the refugee camp were bad. There was little food and the sanitation was very poor. She became very ill and almost died. She was extremely fortunate that a doctor from Médicins Sans Frontières was able to save her life. Messages were carried between the various refugee camps and Thomas heard where she was and they were reunited. Thomas continued to write about conditions in Burma, the military junta and the problems faced by the people in the refugee camps, waiting years for some country to accept them. He started to broadcast through the Free Voice of Burma radio and, as a result, his father was arrested and tortured.

  ‘I was telling the truth about what has happened to my country under the military regime,’ said Thomas, his voice now firm and assured. ‘The serious abuse of human rights committed by the armed forces, especially in ethnic-minority areas, still continues. It includes rape and torture, arbitrary executions, the indiscriminate use of landmines and the forced labour of millions of Burmese citizens. The regime is involved in a modern-day slave trade, which includes the kidnapping, buying and selling of children to be used as child soldiers.’ He paused as Natalie, Holly and Jodie exchanged shocked glances.

  ‘My country was once the rice bowl of Asia. We exported teak, jade and rubies. Now our rich resources, gas and oil, are being exploited so that the generals can become rich while the ordinary people never have enough to eat. There are few paying jobs, no health care and very limited opportunities. They remain impoverished beneath the boots of the fattened junta. We need Aung San Suu Kyi to be free, to help bring about democratic change in Burma! Please, take a leaflet with you. It will explain what action you can take to bring about change. Thank you for supporting us today.’

  Thomas received an enthusiastic round of applause.

  ‘I’ll take a pamphlet but how are they ever going to boot out the military?’ said Emma to Natalie.

  ‘Peaceful persistence,’ said Natalie.

  There were some brief closing remarks from Thi, thanking everyone f
or their support, before a large birthday cake with flaring sparklers was pushed to the fore. Natalie could see Vicki trying to organise the media. Photographers from the local newspapers took pictures and a couple of cameramen filmed the cutting-of-the-cake ceremony while the crowd enthusiastically sang ‘Happy Birthday’. The singing and sparklers quickly captured the children’s attention, and they were soon asking for cake.

  ‘Will this be on the news tonight?’ said Emma.

  ‘Could be,’ said Natalie. ‘My friend Vicki is the media organiser for the group and I saw her with a journalist interviewing Thi and Mi Mi earlier. Burma’s problems need all the publicity they can get. Let’s help the kids get some cake. Do you want to try some of the food?’

  Natalie and her friends gathered up their things and counted heads when Natalie heard her name being called.

  ‘Natalie! I wondered if I’d see you here,’ said Moss walking towards her.

  ‘Hi, Moss, nice to see you.’

  ‘Which are your children?’ he asked.

  ‘Those two, Charlotte and Adam. Moss, these are my friends Jodie, Emma and Holly. Our children all go to the same preschool.’ As Jodie and Moss greeted each other, Natalie added, ‘Moss is in my yoga class.’

  ‘What did you think of the rally? Not a bad rollup,’ Moss said. ‘Must be a few hundred people here.’

  ‘I thought it came together well,’ agreed Natalie.

  ‘The speeches were very moving. Quite inspirational,’ said Jodie. ‘Are you with the Friends of Burma, too?’

  Moss smiled. ‘I’m a friend of Burma, and a great admirer of Aung San Suu Kyi. Especially how she combines her Buddhist philosophy with a political agenda.’

  ‘Moss teaches Buddhism and Asian art,’ explained Natalie to Jodie.

  ‘I thought Buddhism was more pacifist, you know, not involved in politics. I always think of the three wise monkeys – hear no evil, speak no evil, see no evil,’ said Jodie.

  ‘Burmese Buddhism doesn’t mean being passive, but rather calm patience without fear. It is said that’s what has carried Aung San Suu Kyi through her ordeals. She demonstrates that the personal spiritual struggle can’t be separated from one’s political beliefs and actions,’ said Moss.