In my list of traveling places, there is a place in my five top most list. It is Bagan. Like every Myanmar people, I love Bagan too. May be I would have a different reason. When I went to Bagan for the first time, I was six. Every year, my grandmother took us to a trip. Amongst our trip,I liked the trips to upper Myanmar. It is the people there attract my heart. In most of my trips, we went like adventure tour. Without plans, arrangements and preparations. We slept by the streams, on the road side, at the temples, in the monasteries. On our way, we encounter so many people who helped us, like pouring energy and warmth into our hearts. We were received like friends or relatives even though we were strangers.
My father's comments about upper Myanmar had a great influence in my memory. His experiences as a volunteer student 30 years ago. I appreciated the pure hearts of Upper Myanmar, scenic nature of the small dusty lanes, legendary recitations of old people there, beautiful temples and the long, Arrewaddy River.
Last April, I went to Upper Myanmar again. Oh, my heart! I was astonished. It has changed totally. I was robbed on the road, on my car. On the way between Bagan and Poppa, there were villagers blocking the way and ask for money. They said it was asking donation but it was like a robbery. Some people even grab any food on my car and took away my important documents thinking as if it was food.
At that time, I felt lost. Where is my country. It has changed in a rapid rate. Before that event, I thought my country is the most lovely country on earth with lovely people even though there is a harsh political situation. Now, I realized that I am in a day dream. Everything I loved is being lost in a astonishing rate. The beauty of the temples, murals, beautiful architectural styles. All removed within a short time.All is lost, gone with the hard wind of economic harassment.
My sister said, "Please don't worry. You can go and visit Palaung villages, I know. There still left culture and tradition and everyone has a warm heart there too". But I was thinking when shall my heart be broken again? How long will these cultures survives with the unsolved miseries in our survival.
My father's comments about upper Myanmar had a great influence in my memory. His experiences as a volunteer student 30 years ago. I appreciated the pure hearts of Upper Myanmar, scenic nature of the small dusty lanes, legendary recitations of old people there, beautiful temples and the long, Arrewaddy River.
Last April, I went to Upper Myanmar again. Oh, my heart! I was astonished. It has changed totally. I was robbed on the road, on my car. On the way between Bagan and Poppa, there were villagers blocking the way and ask for money. They said it was asking donation but it was like a robbery. Some people even grab any food on my car and took away my important documents thinking as if it was food.
At that time, I felt lost. Where is my country. It has changed in a rapid rate. Before that event, I thought my country is the most lovely country on earth with lovely people even though there is a harsh political situation. Now, I realized that I am in a day dream. Everything I loved is being lost in a astonishing rate. The beauty of the temples, murals, beautiful architectural styles. All removed within a short time.All is lost, gone with the hard wind of economic harassment.
My sister said, "Please don't worry. You can go and visit Palaung villages, I know. There still left culture and tradition and everyone has a warm heart there too". But I was thinking when shall my heart be broken again? How long will these cultures survives with the unsolved miseries in our survival.
3 comments:
အေျခခံစီးပြားေရးမေကာင္းတာ ..
Don't worry: your country is still there. Its reality is as old as the beaten earth of Bagan. Its wisdom is as tall as Bagan's trees. Its virtue is as simple as sleeping in a monastery. Its hope is the strong wish inherent in the hearts of all Myanmar that none of the above be lost.
အင္း... မံု႔လံုးစကၠဴကပ္၊ ဂ်ာေအး သူ႔အေမ႐ိုက္ဆိုတာ...။
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