Shwedagon Pagoda
Sunrise at the Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon, Myanmar
A rosy-fingered dusk gathers over the Shwedagon, as I circumambulate it in search of the animal that represents my guardian planet. Men and women in longyi s, children whose faces are painted with thanaka (paste made from ground bark), and bronzed, muscular monks in raspberry robes light lamps and offer flowers at the shrines. I find the tusked elephant that represents Wednesday and pour water on it while whispering my wish. The Shwedagon, believed to contain the hair of Gautama Buddha, has been Myanmar’s icon since it was raised in the 6th Century AD. Over centuries, its nearly 100-metre gilded stupa, studded with gems and topped by a 76-carat diamond, has punched the air in defiance of earthquakes, marauders, colonising British and invading Japanese. Beyond the chinthe (leogryph) that guard Singuttara hill, from where the pagoda dominates Yangon’s skyline, were held the protests that define Myanmar’s government today. The pagoda’s chimes tinkle through the day and its great bell has been ransacked and restored with every Anglo-Burman War. At the Victory Corner, quiet despite the crush of people, a rare calm descends with the night.
Taukkyan War Cemetery
Graves of young British soldiers who died fighting in the Second World War in the War cemetary in Taukkyan.
I open my red parasol — a gift from the town of Pathein known for this craft — as the sun burns up this hallowed ground for Second World War buffs. Maintained by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, it is the final resting place for Allied soldiers who died in battle in Burma. Situated among the quiet farmlands outside Yangon, it is fronted by the austere Stone of Remembrance with the words ‘Their Name Liveth for Evermore’, chosen by Rudyard Kipling to venerate the fallen. It has 6,426 graves from both World Wars, some with incredibly moving epitaphs, others with just ‘Known Unto God’, signifying the remains of an unknown soldier. Beyond the flower-laden pergolas stands the Rangoon Memorial — with the names of 27,000 soldiers, many Indian, Nepali and African — who have no known graves, inscribed with ‘They died for all free men’. The cemetery register has impeccable records of the birth, death, village and service details of every soldier commemorated here, including the many recipients of the Victoria Cross. The memorial register is filled with poignant notes such as the one from a daughter — “After all these years, I found you daddy!”
U Thant House
Beyond the moldering jazz-age mansions of Windermere Crescent stands the restored house of U Thant, the first Asian Secretary-General of the United Nations. It’s a hunt to find the yellow colonial house with a tiled roof set deep in a garden, much like U Thant’s legacy that was almost forgotten till this house, where he lived from 1951-57 with his wife and two children, was given a second lease of life. It celebrates the educator, writer and public servant and his work at the UN during the height of the Cold War. The house is filled with impressive teak furniture, a library, U Thant’s portrait by Nay Myo Say, newsreels, videos of speeches, his desk and personal belongings. Photos of him defusing the Cuban Missile Crisis and with world leaders such as John F Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev line the walls. The restoration was initiated by Thant Myint-U, historian, chairman of the Yangon Heritage Trust, Padmashri recipient and grandson of U Thant in 2012. The house also encourages scholars to gather to discuss issues such as global peace and the future of Myanmar, issues that were important to U Thant, and gaze at the Peace Pole that outlines his vision for the world.
