The Lady and the Peacock (25 page)

Late that afternoon they arrived in the Kachin capital, Myitkyina, and the usual round of large public meetings got under way, some of which required a change of costume.

April 27: In the afternoon Ma Suu changed into Lisu costume: very wide skirt, jacket and lots of beads and a cute beaded head dress, all this to visit Lisu party office. I was away at the market when she was changing, I came back to find her sitting among our kids, blushing furiously. It suits her very well, she always says she hates to look a fool in fancy dress, but she never looks foolish.

April 28: At one Kachin house Ma Ma was given a gift of a basket of food to symbolize blood relationship, just as one was given to Bogyoke [Aung San] over 40 years ago. It is a large basket to be slung on the back in which were food including rice, salt, meat, vegetables, bread.

April 30: Po Chit Kon village: one old lady after seeing Ma Ma half sang to her grandchild, “Oh this ruler of our kingdom, a pretty thing, a pretty little thing . . .”

Hopin, Nan Cho, Ywa Thit Gyi, Lwin U, Nant Mon, Maing Naung, Ma Mon Kaing, Yan Ton, Nant Pade, Takwin, Myo Thar, Leimee, Kyunpin Thar, Alei Taw . . . Village after village after village, interspersed by monasteries and pagodas, and at each stop an ecstatic crowd, a presentation of gifts, a speech—yet another speech, of the 1,000-plus Suu was to deliver during this six-month epic of traveling. It was becoming less a journey, more an extended hallucination. This was what happened to national heroes returning from conquest—not to “a pretty little thing” steadily and vengefully pursued by the nation's rulers.

May 1: Someone presented Ma Ma with whole peacock tail cut from killed bird, such a pity, that large unwieldy thing traveled with us getting frayed and dirty.

. . . Nearly trampled to death by about 30,000 shouting welcome . . . Ma Ma went all the way on the bonnet of the jeep, half leaning half sitting.

Next place stayed in large house—just before bedtime Ma Ma found out owner was a Scrabble freak and said she wanted a game. I said no Scrabble it's bedtime. She half sang out “Okay Ma Thanegi!” and jumped into bed.

May 2: Old lady Buddhist yogis danced slowly in a circle. While Ma Ma was speaking SLORC tried to lure people away with free video show. Apparently nobody went along.

Ma Ma shampooed hair at 10:45 pm, only place to plug in hair dryer was shrine room so dried it there.

May 3: One old lady waved us on and stood there crying . . . Through dust got a glimpse of one old lady sat on side of the road, making bowing obeisance to our car as if to a monk . . .

During long discussion speech I and a few boys went upstairs and had nap, boys on large mat, me on my wrinkled wrap in the corner. We have been going on rough roads in heat and dust and not getting enough sleep, we tend to curl up like kittens and catnap when we get the chance, of course Ma Ma can't do this.

They descended from the Kachin hills to the fiery heat of the Burma heartland.

Into Sagaing division and immediately it became very hot . . . Winding rough tracks of journey through semi-jungle . . . As always meetings until bedtime for Ma Ma, everyone exhausted. Some of the boys are ill.

May 4: dark blue longyi and dark blue jacket, got up at 5:30, thankful for small blessings as not 3:30 or 4, had to travel in high lorry as road too rough for jeep. Stopped at villages along way where they asked Ma Ma to speak, served tepid sticky cold drinks which we didn't have the heart to refuse.

A lot of us coughing . . .

May 5: beige longyi, beige jacket. Left Inndaw at 5:30, huge cheering crowds everywhere with flowers and banners and music.

Tagaung was like a kiln. A shop nearby selling tamarind juice and we bought it by the potfull. So many people lining the road it took two hours to drive from outskirts to NLD office.

Very hard to get any kind of privacy, people will peer and peep in everywhere, once even when Ma Ma was on the loo unless boys and I can scout and stand guard . . .

*

For the next leg of the journey they went by boat, and Ma Thanegi's longer, more meditative entries reflect the different pace of traveling by water. All of them got their breath back.

May 6: Blue jacket, dark blue Kachin longyi. As I said to Ma Ma, It's horrible to get up at 3, she said you're telling me. We walked to jetty at 4 am, not many NLDs up as they didn't believe we would get up at 3 even though we said we would. On boat Ma Ma sometimes sewed names on boys' longyis as we sat in small cabin . . .

At Shwegu, NLDs there unable to handle crowd, I was nearly trampled on as I tried to make my way to the car, then I wasn't able to climb on board until Tiger took me by the waist and threw me in head first, this my usual entry into cars or boats when public too enthusiastic.

Ma Ma stood up in front, I just behind ready to punch anyone too vigorous about greeting her. You wouldn't believe how people grab her hands and once one stupid girl pulled her head down to kiss her so hard Ma Ma nearly hit her head on the jeep frame. We were furious. Aung Aung and I would punch them in the chest just to get these girls off Ma Ma.

May 7: Orange jacket, dark blue longyi. We heard early call to prayer from mosque. Talking lightly about “God,” Ma Ma suddenly remembered how Kim said “bless me” whenever he sneezed. Her face really lights up and she loses her tired look whenever Alexander or Kim are mentioned. When she is tired but unable to rest I try to turn the conversation to the boys . . .

The thousands of miles spent crammed together in transport of every kind were bringing the women very close together. Ma Thanegi confided:

I love Ma Ma, but it's not a personality cult, not because she is Daw Aung San Suu Kyi but because she is herself. I've always been a loner without much attachment to family and I never thought I would think of anyone as a true sister as I do her.

At Bamaung we learned that during the night the army cars had thrown anti ASSK leaflets all over town. Speech at Bamaung NLD then to house where we will stay, very hot . . .

For past few days boys have been bragging about swimming in cool cool rivers, Ma Ma and I green with envy, that night we decided to evade nanny, which is Aung Aung, and sneaked off for a dip with only two or three boys in the know.

We somehow managed to evade forever-gaping friends of Ma Ma because she was wearing a cap and thanks to lack of electricity in Burmese towns it was quite dark, also first day of new moon.

The water was lovely, almost ice cold, and we would discover warm and cold currents and tell each other exactly where with great excitement. Never enjoyed a bath so much before, so different, Ma Ma, said from pouring water over yourself.

Suu had now been back in her homeland for more than thirteen months, much the longest period since her childhood, and whatever illusions she may have held about her people were falling away.

Ma Ma getting to know well the Burmese character, the bad side. Said she is fed up to the teeth with pushy egoistic stupid people. She is getting to know the true Burmese character and is getting depressed by it. I have a feeling she is too idealistic and emotionally vulnerable. Easy-going as we Burmese are, we are totally selfish, ostrich-like in dealing with unpleasantness and very short-sighted.

When she is in a pensive mood I would search her face and feel a deep sorrow that so many burdens are on this frail-looking and gentle person. I think she needs to be more cynical to deal with the Burmese and of course hard-hearted to some extent. She feels hurt when people complain about the rudeness of our boys, I tell her politeness would not penetrate the thick skulls and dim minds of these people.

She came back after a hot trek in the sun to some village or other smelling strongly of cheap scent. It's usual for enthusiastic ladies to spray Ma Ma with perfume that they all think great, and the perfumes are either something called Concord or Charlie, Charlie is slightly more expensive, or Tea Rose, the scent of rose, and we are beginning to recognize these three. Ma Ma is more often sprayed with Concord and we hate this spray business. These ladies are not too careful where they aim the nozzle. Sometimes it gets into her face or her mouth, she has to be careful about moving her face
or it would go into her eyes. She said you know Ma Thanegi I've gone up in the world, they sprayed me with Charlie instead of Concord.

May 9: Couldn't stop so Ma Ma made speech from boat without going ashore. They gave us packets of fried noodles.

Onboard boat cabin very hot so Ma Ma sits on deck and chats to boys or reads travel book by Patrick Leigh Fermor, saying she likes to remind herself that there are other lives than the crazy one she's leading.

But then there was the risk of plummeting into memories of the life she had lost.

“After giving a speech from the boat she sat sewing for a while in the cabin, mending some of the boys' shirts.” The mundane domestic task whisked her back to Oxford, and the home she couldn't go back to; “the happy highways where I went/ And cannot come again.”
⁴

“In the small, grimy cabin we shared, she talked for a while about Alexander and Kim. She said that she used to sew name tags onto her sons' shirts for school, then she fell silent. As she sewed she had tears in her eyes, she said nothing more. I was lying down with my hat over my eyes, I could see her trying not to cry. Then she said, I had better concentrate on my new sons.

“She never let on, except as jokes, how much she missed her family.”

*

Min Kyaung Kon village: speech at monastery. At 6:30, just as it was getting dark, we arrived in Katha, lots of women and children, much more than before, never before seen such wildly happy children. They told us happily that all the men have been taken as porters so only we kids left. Ma Ma said all her depression left her when she saw them. Loud cheers. Three or four kids squatting on sloping bank to see into the boat stood up in turn, Ma Ma at the railing, they told Ma Ma that they would carry on and were not afraid, Ma Ma said in that case she would come to Katha to be protected by these kids if she runs into trouble in Rangoon. Loud cries of we'll protect you, we'll look after you.

Archway of red flame-of-the-forest flowers, lovely. Ma Ma and I and others slipped away to ancient pagoda to pray. It was the birthday of her brother Aung San Lin, the one who died so young. She would say to me, “what we could have done together . . .”

May 11: Left Tagaung at 5 am, hot even at dawn. Ma Ma could not find her lipstick and kept saying, where are you you damn thing. She remarked to me, I know I'm tired when I get to the point of talking to my lipstick. Boys talked and yelled in their sleep last night, she said they have no lipstick to talk to.

That town had been razed by fire a few weeks ago. Met some old ladies who escaped with just the clothes on their backs. Cheerfully told us they have nothing now as they sat puffing on big cheroots with fragrant
nakao
on their cheeks.
⁵

May 12: Left 5:30 by our own cars. When we saw our cars yesterday evening we were so glad, I kissed our car and said I love you car. Tiger, the owner/driver of that car said it was like meeting his girlfriend.

On our way to Mogoke . . . 6:40
AM
arrived at Hsar Hpyu Taung village . . . Ma Ma had taken a sleeping tablet and was nearly out, she felt so sleepy, I held her as she napped in the car. At villages where we had to stop she would collect her wits, think rapidly and make speeches, no mistakes, no blurred words, she just looked a bit bewildered.

We put up at large old house at Mogoke. Old as it was the house had bath and loo attached, to Ma Ma's joy, she would jump up and down and clap her hands at news of such luxury. A double bed for her, with as usual a lacy net, white this time. She lay back on the bed and said, just my luck, my bed always festooned with bridal lace and here I am all alone!

Wherever they went the masses of supporters and the wild acclaim were the same.

May 13: She was wearing a sequined jacket and sequined Arakan longyi. Left Kyut Pyin at 7
AM
for Mogoke. Cloudy and cool. People from Mogoke met us on the way in cars then followed us, about 50 cars in all. Near Mogoke we met about 40 kids on BMX bicycles and also dozens of motorbikes. One fat lady waiting by the side of the road thrust 3,000 kyats in cash into Ma Ma's hands.

Ma Ma stood up in green pickup sheltered by umbrella against drizzle. It took over two hours to get to the football field, people screaming greetings all the way. At the football field near lake and pagoda there were so many people who sat in the rain, keeping their umbrellas closed so that people behind might see Ma Ma. She stood on table under large colorful beach umbrella. It reminded me of the first time I saw her at the Shwedagon assembly last August: mud, rain and a packed field.

Such a crowd came out to hear Ma Ma that all the stores closed, including the ruby exchange, which never closed for any reason. Local people spoke with awe of the ruby exchange closing for Ma Suu.

At entrance to town army made an appearance, stopping motorbikes, taking down names of those without helmets, etc. Well, they had to do something. Never saw such crowds in my life . . .

*

Wherever she went, north, south, east or west, Suu was met by vast crowds who hailed her as their ruler, their savior, their redeemer; “This ruler of our kingdom,” as the Kachin grandmother chanted, “a pretty thing, a pretty little thing . . .”

Did it go to her head? In some respects, clearly not. She remained touchingly, enchantingly human, as Ma Thanegi's diary brings out so well. She would get down from the stage after another triumph—and go into the kitchen of the place where they were staying and slice mangoes for the bodyguards. With the applause for her latest speech ringing in her ears, she would duck into the squalid little cabin of the boat in which they were traveling and sew patches on “the boys'” shirts.

But where was it all heading? How well did she read her adversaries?

Ma Thanegi, who was later to fall out with her bitterly, had a better opportunity than anybody to observe her at close quarters, warts and all. “With her idealism and high standards of honesty,” she wrote long after the rift, “she sometimes seemed to me so much like a small child, with that deliberately composed dignity you see in young children when they are not sure of things and sensing (but at the same time not really aware of or understanding) the manipulations or shrewd dealings or lies of adults . . . In spite of her strength of character I see her as vulnerable, an innocent cast to the wolves.”