Seven days in Burma (Myanmar) 1979

Up until 1948, Burma had been an outpost of the British Empire where British and local pomp and ceremony had made it one of the more colourful of Eastern cultures. Elephants, tiger hunts, cricket and whisky and soda was about all that mattered, however when independence came in 1948 the social structure of the country commenced a downward spiral where the military ran the country with little thought for the welfare of the people. Any form of opposition to the ruling regime was soon quashed, and by the time I visited in December 1979, the country had become a virtually closed area to outsiders.

Most imports had been banned for years and there was no foreign investment. Surrounding countries were in political foment and in Burma itself there was an active armed uprising that did little more than skirmish with the army and make a nuisance of itself. Even now as I type this in 1996, Myanmar is far from a stable country having changed from quiet acceptance to rioting in the streets, but when I visited, the people of Rangoon seemed happy to accept their lot probably because of the government's successful suppression of any news or imports from the outside world. There were no radios or electric appliances, none of the blinding array of electronic wonders that existed in profusion just outside their borders. Any motor vehicles were military or police apart from those that had survived since 1948.

It appeared that there was a closely watched black market that somehow managed to get small items over the surrounding mountains, and this probably benefitted the ruling class. The electricity supply was probably produced by antiquated machinery and was very erratic in operation. In fact it appeared to be virtually useless as a service to the general public.

I was amazed to find myself flying through high mountain passes in a twin engine Cessna, and couldn't help but wonder what local forces kept the aircraft airworthy – the airport administration did little to ease my doubts!
The small number of motor vehicles that had survived were in a shocking mechanical state and were seldom driven after nightfall. Getting a taxi to move after dark involved threats and bribery, progress was seldom out of bottom gear as lights were never switched on unless by chance the driver suspected that there was another vehicle approaching, in which case the drivers free hand (which always hovered over the headlight switch) would give the lights a momentary blip to announce the vehicle's presence. Pitch blackness would then descend once more and the two vehicles would slowly rumble past each other! I had my own personal taxi and driver (more of that later) and plying him with questions about this strange habit, only elicited the reply that 'It saved electricity'!

My first work assignment was to a remote mountain community in Western Burma. Kayah State had a small airport which boasted a small two storey terminal building and little more, and it was there that a rather amusing experience took place on my arrival with my Aussie guide. He was well known in the area, having been actively engaged in the water containment project that was my destination, so we had a warm welcoming committee of the local village chief and his retinue, all decked out, in their ceremonial best. Bear in mind that I was still in Burma, but I was duly processed through local customs. This entailed an exchange of greetings and the detailed perusal of my passport at a table inside the terminal, but more was to come! The airport clerk left his table and went over to a pile of paper wrapped in-and-out freight parcels. He tore a small piece of brown paper off one parcel, returned and solemnly began to copy details of my passport. My companion nudged me to keep a straight face while this was going on, and thus I was officially welcomed to the State! I often wonder where that piece of brown paper finished up!

This particular project was a water containment scheme to provide a stable year round supply of water to the farmers on the rich flat area below the earthen dam that had recently been completed using the talents of a group of engineers who had previously worked on the Snowy Mountains scheme. It was an official Australian team known as SMECMA and over the years they had carried out a number of projects around the world as aid to developing countries. Heavy road building machinery was also in storage in the area, brand new and unused, all with a brass plate that proclaimed that it was a gift from the people of Australia. All this, together with generators, electric and hand tools in large quantities, but it was doubtful when any of this was likely to be used as there were no operators, and the local people had absolutely no skills above hand tilling the soil. I think they looked upon these huge yellow machines much as they worshiped their local Gods! There was talk of diesel fuel being shipped in over the mountains, but till this arrived the machines would stand silent.
The mountains around this town capital (little more than a large village really) contained the hide-outs of the insurgent forces that controlled the area. Their opponents were the military forces that patrolled the valley floor somewhat ineffectively. The local people were of the Paduang tribe and I couldn't help but wonder if the presence of armed soldiers was causing a conflict that would not have occurred otherwise. The local people certainly appeared peaceful enough, probably their greatest concern was death from malaria which took a crushing mortal toll, the area was reputed to be by far the worst malaria spot in the world. I was told that natives back in the jungle died like flies and later I had good reason to believe this fact!

The women of this tribe practice neck stretching by adding rings to the necklace that they have from an early age. In actual fact the neck does not stretch, but the shoulder bones are forced downwards giving this illusion. The practise has largely been discontinued, but there are still older women with a large number of rings, and a few younger ones who copy their elders in a small way. There was no doubt that there were some pretty violent people in the area. A pair of Russian technicians had visited the area a couple of months previously and their mangled bodies had been dumped in the village square, one already dead and the other barely surviving. His eventual fate was unknown nor, for that matter, why they had been attacked. Therefore I was assigned a round the clock guard of heavily armed soldiers, two of them being always at my side with an English speaking interpreter.

I was delayed for almost 48 hours in the village until army units had carried out patrol sweeps up the valley until they felt it was secure, so I spent this time doing some sightseeing in the vicinity of the town. One of my solar powered calculators was presented to the local government head official as he proved to be a great friend. I dined with him and his wife twice, she had a business collecting locally grown cut flowers and orchids, flying them out to markets in Rangoon where they doubtless finished up in the homes of high officials and temples. Through his influence I had a jeep and driver/guide at my disposal so, together with my bodyguards, I first did a tour of the local maharaja's palace which was little more than a two-storied timber ruin, not having been occupied for the many years since independence. The elephant compounds and enormous ground floor doors gave some idea of the opulence of the old Rajas before the elaborate plastered and painted palace fell into decay. I was told however that the last remaining member of the local rulers, an elderly woman, still lived in the town and nothing really moved without her approval!

I then visited a local temple which like several others, was built on the top of spiked limestone outcrops which towered to a good height above the surrounding valley floor. An astounding feature of these temples are smooth rounded stones somewhat like an odd shaped egg and weighing many tons, that had somehow been mounted on the tips of the limestone spires. The stones were ornamented with golden images and paintings and then the stones themselves topped with tall heavily ornamented spires. Steps cut in the limestone led up from the valley floor through clefts and holes in the solid rock. Shoes were removed after the climb before entering into the small temple courtyard perched on the very top of the outcrop. Strangely, although I have a movie film record of all this, I can only remember climbing the hundreds of steps, and then gazing out from the courtyard at the surrounding tilled fields far below and similar outcrops with their stones and spires dotting the plain clear back to the surrounding mountains.

The only building of any size was the recently completed well equipped hospital staffed by Burmese doctors who had studied in Europe. The head doctor was a very impressive fellow who had studied medicine in Britain and married a Dutch trained nurse. This couple together with the Government headman and his wife formed the nucleus of the state's social elite, and it was a common sight to see the two men pedalling their push bikes to an area outside of town with a few golf clubs over their shoulders, where they had some of the locals hopefully laying out a course. It was obvious that the local people saw no gain in these activities, and it was virtually impossible to get anything done at all. This brings us back to the hospital which was full of malarial patients, some having been carried in from the surrounding mountains. Most of the patient's beds were surrounded by their families, who were living on the spot with their cooking pots and beds. Though this was an appalling state of affairs, there was nothing the doctors and staff could do about it and so they stayed until the patient was cured, or more likely died.

Most of the local people indulged in the habit of Betel nut chewing, and it was their normal habit to spit the juice anywhere, so the once pristine white walls of the hospital, both inside and out, were a mass of red splashes up to a height of a metre or so. This was the first thing that assailed your vision when you alighted at the reception area and it just became worse as your tour progressed! The amazing thing about the hospital was the high standard of equipment, x-ray and other equipment of most recent design, several operating theatres – there was even a fully qualified brain surgeon on staff!

My tour was conducted by a large number of doctors, each one taking his turn to show me his particular area of operation, but most of the equipment was unused as it appeared that most resources available revolved around one floor full of malaria patients plus, as mentioned before, their families. Almost all the patients were fed, tended to by these family units, the hospital food was not to their taste, so really the whole setup was little more than a large hotel. The large windows were only arched holes in the walls, and birds flew in and the smoke drifted out! I couldn't but wonder if the well meaning country who, with millions of dollars in donations, had donated this facility, had ever really seen the end product of it's generous gesture! There was a large store room stacked high with high quality white enamel and another with an enormous jumbled inventory of spares for the whole hospital. None of this had been touched apart from the odd package that had been broken open for the more required items.

All this led to the head doctor and the village elders, beseeching me to consider an extended visit to the area with my wife when my present Hong Kong contract finished. I was assured that the proposed year visa would be no problem and a new house would be built with gardens and servants the same as the head doctor enjoyed and of course a generous remittance. My first job would be to organise painting gangs and I was assured that the locals were adept at this trade. The main problem I was told was to keep them working! Some of the doctors had already tried organising this in their spare time, but dozens of unclean brushes and opened paint cans were evidence that it needed a full time overseer!

The other job was to restore the many pieces of equipment and machinery throughout the whole State to working order. Little repair was necessary I was assured, in most cases checking oil levels and refilling the diesel storage tanks was all that was required. It appeared that if something stopped for even the smallest reason it just stayed that way. The hospital power supply was maintained purely by a roster of the doctors!
It must be realised that any form of cash remuneration was a complete puzzle to these people, there was absolutely nothing that they could buy apart from their local produce and they had bartered with their own systems since the beginning of their history, Burmese paper money held no more value to them than Monopoly money has for US!

I will admit that I was tempted by their offer, but as it happened other contracts kept me busy, but I did get one last request from the head doctor by mail, in which he assured me that matters had become completely out of hand all around and the hospital was now little more than a dispensing clinic that he and his wife were trying to keep going, the other doctors having moved to Rangoon and other places as their contracts expired.
The area does have huge unique marble deposits in every colour and variation it is possible to imagine, which is apparently quarried by antiquated machinery. I only viewed the large rough sheds where crude multiple saws reduced the large blocks to thin sheets, and where also workers at rough lathes were turning multi coloured marble pots of all shapes and sizes. I was invited to take one as a reminder of my visit, as size was a problem I chose a small white veined grey vase for my treasure cabinet.

That night we were told by the military that we would be departing for the head of the valley work site very early the next morning before early light, and so it was that I found myself in a convoy of heavily armed soldiers in several jeeps, racing up the rough track in the centre of the valley floor, the only real danger, the possibility of land mines that may have been planted during the dark hours. I was assured that during my stay the word would have gone out that I was here to work on machinery that was to the advantage of the local people, and the insurgents would take a few days off during my visit, and instead would probably visit the local market the next day. Most of their number were probably members of local families and totally unknown to the military, although there was certainly a wanted list.

This was proved partly correct at least, as not a single shot was fired on this or the return trip. So we arrived at the dam site in time for a local breakfast. Most meals in the area featured cold well cooked meat in slices, and this was described as mutton, but though it was always tender and tasty, I often wondered where it originated!
The mechanical problem was an obvious fault in machinery supplied from Jaques Australia, the design not having been sufficiently researched for local conditions, and after assembly I quickly set to with the brand new oxy cutting equipment while the villagers, under instructions from my Aussie mate, who spoke a smattering of the local lingo, dragged a new arc welding machine out of storage and filled it with diesel and checked the oil.
He already had one of the locals who had showed mechanical aptitude on a previous visit assisting me, and I proceeded with his help to rectify the problem, after which we ran the plant which then operated correctly, this to the sound of loud applause from the assembled members of the village.

This had only fixed the problem on part of the machinery, an almost identical error was apparent on the other side, but by this time I found that I had a helper who was proficient in the use of the arc welder and only needed a crash course in the operation of the steel oxy cutting equipment A few instructions later and my mate assured me that all would be well so we went off to look at another problem. After an absence of a couple of hours we returned to see the machinery running smoothly and my new apprentice being honoured as a true expert. He is probably using his new found skills and much more to this day!