On the banks of the Irrawaddy

Sagaing, South of Mandalay

Tuesday, September 23, 2014.

We are anchored on the banks of the Irrawaddy which is actually called the Ayeyarwady, in Sagaing, South of Mandalay. We have an all day excursion to Mandalay today. This morning the sun rose as I drank my Latte on deck. The people on the banks began their day washing in the river and brushing their teeth. The women did laundry and the thwacking of the clothes against a rock had a comforting rhythm. The first light of day is the only time the temperature and humidity are bearable, but this does not last long.

We went by bus through Mandalay. The road by the river was lined with small huts, the temporary homes of farmers who will move them when the water level goes down after the end of monsoons.

Our first stop was went to the Shwenandaw Monastery that had been part of the Royal palace, but had been moved. Because of fires that destroyed the Royal Palace, it is the only remaining part of the original structure.

It was a teak structure with intricate carvings that showed the effects of years of a hot humid climate. Our Texan told them they should pressure wash it. I had visions of the intricate carvings being blown away. There was a gilded Buddha and an Ivory Buddha there. Throughout Myanmar we would find them everywhere. Because this site has not been dramatically altered, it has a chance to become a World Heritage site.

Next we went to the Kuthodaw Paya and Sandamuni Paya, which are called the biggest book in the world.

They contain the entire works of Buddha transcribed from manuscripts written on dried palm leaves. Their compilation was the work of a committee of over 200 monks convened by the King in 1860 to preserve the teachings of Buddha. The LED lights around the Buddha's head is part of the continuing modernization. I suppose it is much like the moving of the stained glass windows from my old church to the new one. Places of worship, that are in use, get changed.



 




It took over 2000 monks eight years to carve the entire teachings of Buddha on stone tablets which are placed in a structure called Dhamma ceti.


They were filming a commercial and I had my picture taken with two Myanmar movie stars. They were gracious and the young woman spoke beautiful English.

We ran into a group of children who were excited to see western tourist and gathered to pose for a picture. One girl was wearing thanaka, a paste made from the ground bark of several trees that is used for cosmetic reasons, but also to prevent sunburn and heal various skin aliments.

Our next stop at the Myanmar Buddhist Monastery Orphanage came during lunch on the Sabbath. The Sabbath is based on the lunar calendar and is usually on a Monday or Tuesday.

The boys were lined up with their metal plates being served by older boys. The boys had tried to sing Frère Jacques to us in Burmese, but could not remember the words.

We recognized the tune they were trying and sang it to them in French and then English. The boys were delighted. I remembered singing Frère Jacques it in French on a felucca in Egypt as people from several boats joined in. This simple song is a part of childhood known all over the world. I bet the boys will know it for the next group.

These boys were orphans, being raised by Buddhist Monks. They were considered lucky because they were getting an education, had a safe place to eat and sleep. Away from the cities there is no structured place for orphans.

Lunch was family style at the Royal Mandalay restaurant, with western toilets, wonderful family style food that seemed a combo of Thai and Chinese. I had coke zero. It was the only time we ate at a local restaurant while we were on the boat.

Then we went to the Mandalay Royal Palace. The walls were original, but the palace had been destroyed by the Japanese and then English bombing in WWII. You can tell from the sign that there has been a military dictatorship for some time in Myanmar.

Crushing enemies is a common theme.

The post WWII reconstruction of the palace was similar to the original, but like much of the other sites in this country, it used enhancements that were modern.

The colors and lines were beautiful.

 And we watched them filming a commercial during the heat of the day.

 





This has been a long day, full of movement through the city and views of many different sites.

 

It was hot, and we were getting tired. We had saved the best for last. Our final stop was in the craft district.

 

We saw the place where young men made gold leaf, by beating gold between steel plates for hours. It is a young man’s job and their bodies are used up by age 40. Here is a link to a short video: Pounding Gold Leaf in Mandalay

Young women were packaging the leaf for sale and applying it to craft items.I bought gold leaf, which is used to put on the Buddha we saw the day before and also on crafts. I bought a primitive turtle and a box. 

We walked to the marble carvers. All marble carvings in Myanmar come from this street, Jungle Street. The carvers were young thin and strong, with their face close to the marble for the fine work. A chisel and hammer was use for the rough work and power tools for the fine. The dust was everywhere and we wore masks. The workers did not and their long term fate is only now beginning to be understood.

They didn't just carve the stone, they painted the gaudy dragon and other images we saw at Payas, stupas and temples, and etched and painted the texts from Buddha that we saw at monasteries. We saw many carvings with square blank faces that were waiting for the best carver to complete.  Most sites seemed to specialize with one statue in many sizes, or a type of statue, but there were several larger places with many unique carvings.

It was a short walk to the wood and fabric craft place. There were old and new wood carvings and the ornate embroidered objects you as associate with this part of the world.

I was so tired by the time we got to the craft place that my mind could not take in all that I was seeing. I did take pictures, and if I could go back, I might buy something from the shelf above.

We bused back to the river, and walked passed the monastery by the bank, where a young monk watched us pass. A group of young boys were playing what looked like volley ball with a rattan ball called a Chilone. We went past tables of drying charcoal briquettes to board.

Before we showered we were given a short lecture about the rest of our trip, when we would leave the relatively modern area of Mandalay. We were told about safety, not touching animals, not drinking or eating food from the villages. The bigger point was to not spoiling the country by giving gifts to the people because that will create beggars. In Mandalay we were followed by beggars and they lined the shore because they understood the concept of rich tourist. In the places we will go they have never had tourist. We were encouraged to be friendly and talk to the people, some were beginning to learn English. They asked us not to teach them to beg. It would kill their way of life. 

After dinner, there was a troupe of college students and their teachers playing traditional music and dancing. We were all very tired, but our guides told us that tourists were rare and the schools teaching the traditional dances needed our support and the dancers needed to see our interest. It was a theme that would follow us through the trip as our group constantly brought aboard local craft and artists to help support tradition along the river.

The music at first seemed atonal and random, but as my ear adjusted, I began to feel it. The dancers added to the understanding. Their costumes were elaborate and beautiful, their faces were so expressive and their movements were both graceful and abrupt at the same time. The movements were rapid, the hand and arm moves seemed impossible and the point at which they paused was like a painting. It was an extraordinary physical performance and they did not break a sweat. They told the story with their faces. Their teacher and Momo, one of our guides, danced at the end and their enjoyment of the dance was a delight. 
Here is a link to a brief video of one dance: Dancers on the Boat - Mandalay .

A wonderful end to a very long day. There was so much to see that I wish this day had been two and there had been time to wander through the carvers and wood shops. But the dance in the evening and the lecture on board gave us our first hint that we would have to be more that tourists. Myanmar (Burma in my mind) has been so closed for so long that the concept of tourist is new and preservation of old ways in in danger. We will get to see a country that will change in unknown ways over the next decade. We are learning that this will be a joint education process.

Mengala ba.

On the road to Mandalay

Mandalay

Monday, September 22, 2014

We flew to Mandalay from Bangkok, arriving in the steaming afternoon heat and began our bus trip, with stops, on our way to the boat. It was barren with fields along the way to Mahamuni Paya (pagoda), the second most sacred Paya in Myanmar. The Paya was built in 1785 to house the  Mahamuni (which means Great Image) Buddha, a bronze image believed to be over 2000 years old, that was captured during an invasion of Mrauk U. The Paya was full of pilgrims, not tourists. They prayed, or rather meditated. 

I was not yet used to finding monks at every turn.

We removed our shoes, a practice that would become common for the Payas and Temples we would visit. Sturdy walking shoes were often irrelevant.

Women were not allowed near the Buddha or the Mahamuni, another common theme. The Mahamuni was originally bronze but has been continually covered in gold leaf, not by artisans but by pilgrims, in the last century. Men are allowed to do this and it is part of their pilgrimage. They cannot put it on the face, which remains clear, but the body had become fat, almost monstrous, with gold leaf, which is over 6 in thick and getting thicker every day.

The Mahamuni Buddha is an example of the issue we would encounter throughout Myanmar. Although the Buddha is perhaps 2000 years old, the site is a living place of worship. About 100 years ago, local people began to change the Buddha, and the site has been constantly changed and "modernized".  We did not find World Heritage sites in Myanmar because no site met the preservation criteria. Frequently we found LED lighting and other enhancements. Reconstruction of sites often included improvements of a questionable type. This theme will follow through the trip.

I rang my first temple bell, always three times, and invoked the sound of Dharma for protection. The sound felt soothing.

Here is a link to a video of: Ringing the Paya Bell

Our bus took us to the Irrawaddy river and the boat that would be our home for our great adventure. The hills by the river were covered in glittering pagodas and stupas.

The banks of the river were full of people bathing or carrying out their daily chores. Mandalay is a large city with little infrastructure. The banks of the river were full of trash.

The boats were tied up for the night.

 A shower, dinner, rest.

Mengala ba. (The Burmese version of Aloha)

Shall we dance?

I took a trip to Myanmar via Bangkok. Although I was off the grid for most of the trip, I wrote notes each day.

Bangkok

September 18-21, 2014

Shall we dance?

It runs through my head and makes me smile. Siam. Anna and the King. Some truth and a lot of fiction. Here in Bangkok the Kings Palace remains a glittering wonder, and the European style to some buildings attest to the truth in part of the tale. The Japanese were here, of course, during WWII and there are day trips to The Bridge over the River Kwai, but our guide is not full of the horrors of their occupation, the way my Chinese friends were. Thailand was not destroyed, it was occupied. They did not fight, and they were just a pathway through to India. This is the hemisphere of the Japanese in WWII. The scope of that conflict has suddenly struck me. It truly touched the small places of the world.

I arrived late at night and out my hotel window I could see lighted boats ferrying across the Chao Phraya river. 

The next morning we took a river tour through the canals, where we fed the catfish and saw Thai daily life.  We stopped at Wat Aran, the Temple of Dawn. I climbed the steep stupa steps and got a view of Bangkok, and a close look at what would be many Buddhist sites.

On my own I took the metro to the grand market, where I got to see a million knock-offs of Western goods. Moving around was good for my jet lag.

The rest of the tour group joined us on my birthday, September 21^st, and we went to the Grand Palace. It dates back to the 1700’s with its most recent European style structure added by the King who was the son in the King and I. The song will not leave my head. At least it is a happy one. Gold and gaudy, ornate in every way, the palace was grand, fascinating, and hot, hot, hot. It would be the first of many days spent steaming and stewing in my own juices. The sweat did keep me cooler. The site was teeming with tourists from all over the world.

The contrast between the life in a modern city and the life on the canals was unique. Every manner of boat was used to travel and shopping ranged from supermarkets, to open air markets, to boat/water markets. 

The Thai are a smiling people. They greet you with their hands in a lotus position and a nod. Not a bow. Yes, the son of The King (and I) did change the requirement to be lower than the king. The Buddhist do want you to stay below the level of the Buddha. The emerald Buddha was high up on a stupa, but still the people stayed on the floor.

This feels like an open, free country.  What will it feel like when I get to Burma?

I had a dream..

I had a dream last night. Well really early this morning.  It was one of those dreams that is on the edge of waking. Vivid, clear at the time, you know something is off, you know you are dreaming. Yet you choose not to wake, to follow the path. 

I was doing a presentation on my Dissertation. I knew I knew it well. I had the presentation but I could not find it. I thought this is not a problem, I will tell them what I learned. I will tell them how this is relevant and how what I learned has changed my life. A sense of relief came over me as I knew how to address the audience (which somehow had become immense). Then I woke up.

It was 5 am. A trip to the bathroom, then back to bed to try to sleep. For an hour as I hovered between sleep and wake, my mind touched on key lessons learned early that impacted me later. And then I thought about how those impacts had touched others. Some of the lessons were from that dissertation process and I am pleased to know that that process did shape me, did toughen me, but also taught me the value of colleagues and friends. In that hazy semi-sleep time, the events that emerged surprised me and then didn’t.

Data is messy because people are messy.  If you look at it piece by piece you can then create a picture that makes sense.  If you look at it as a total jumble you will give up and go home.  You eat an elephant one bite at a time. This taught me to look at people, organizations, and problems identifying the components that make the whole.  It helped me understand complexity through the underlying simplicity.

Organizations are people. Changing an organization means changing people. How do you change an organization? 

 I did large organization surveys early in my career. They were anonymous and there was a place for comments. In a crude barely literate hand, on one of 10,000 surveys, someone wrote: “My boss touches me. He won’t stop. I want him to stop.”  The response was in a stack of surveys that had comments before and after this survey that told me the location of the person who wrote that comment. I did not want to violate the anonymity of the survey, but I wanted to help that person.  So I went to a colleague in that business and showed him the comment. He put together a training program on harassment (this was before it became a cliché) and conducted a pilot at that site. The training included a hotline for complaints. It led to the identification of a number of problem supervisors and it created in my colleague an unlikely champion for the issue.

Yes or no. Does your boss try to help you do a better job? I snuck this question into the first global survey we ever did, in the late 80’s. If I divided the company into two groups, those who answered yes, and those who answered no, I found it was two different places. Everything you wanted to be, do, or feel was in that yes place, while the no place was a miserable opposite. That shaped almost everything I did for the rest of my career. I preached this story in every coaching session, training program and management discussion I had. It changed me too.  You don’t have to succeed, but you have to try to help.

It is hard to be heard as a woman. I was often the only woman in meetings. If I had a comment to make and others did too, they would be heard, but my voice was invisible unless I pushed until I was almost rude. I learned to just keep talking until the others stopped, because if I waited my turn, it never came.  I only did this when the point was important. It was a persistent problem that I noticed other women had as my meetings became more diverse. I learned to call on them, and I counseled the men I worked with about the issue.  It didn’t stop the problem, but it changed their perception of me and of the issue.  I think by the end of my career it had become less of an issue. I mentored many women and men about this.

Did I change my company? I think I did.  Things that never happened became part of the culture. I mentored many men and women who became top leaders in the company, and I influenced how they led. 

Did what I learned in my dissertation matter. Yes.  I learned to think differently and that if I had a good explanation, I could make a change. I affected people. They affected me. Back it with data not perceptions. As Friday said, just the facts. 

People are such a rich tapestry of DNA and experience, yet I am astounded by the similarities across every divide. I once sat on a balcony on the other side of the world, looking at the moon. My colleague and I talked about that day, now 45 years ago when people all over the world went out and looked at it in a new way. For the first time there was a man on the moon. I had a vision of the darkness circling the world that night, drawing people from every continent, every country, every religion, every age, out to see the moon. For that moment we were all filled with wonder. My lesson to the people I met across cultures was to focus on the similarities and embrace the differences.

In high school I read The Diary of Ann Frank, we did the play. The play ends with Ann’s statement, “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are really good at heart.” The last line, from her father, “She puts me to shame.” For most of my life, I could not agree with Ann Frank. I thought she remained an idealist who died too young to outgrow it. Somehow, in the last few years, I have finally come around. It was a picture that did it, and improbable one.  A homeless man sat near the rubble of the Oklahoma bombing, holding and protecting children being brought out of the ruined day care center by desperate bystanders. A discard on every other day of his life, in that moment he became a part of the greater effort. A spark in him responded and he was trusted for his humanity. We all have some of that in us.

We live in a world that is going through a dark and tumultuous time. But it seems I am an optimist. There is survival value, as a species in being kind to one another. It is a lesson not all have been taught. When you look at the smile of a child, before the world has its way, how can you not believe that we are all good at heart.

Shalom
Salam Alaikum
світ
мир
Peace