Friday, July 9, 2004
Fear factor
Off Track| Hoihnu Hauzel
July 8
Where is Inya Lake? I asked the lungi-clad taxi driver who was showing me Yangon in his left-hand drive white jeep. "Not too far," he said. "Take me near University Avenue 54." His pale face reddened. "Not possible. Cannot go there. Too many policemen," he said.
That's the residence of Aung San Suu Kyi, a dilapidated house beside the lake. No locals dare pass by. Even when they take the name of Aung San Suu Kyi, they look over their shoulders and take no chances with eavesdroppers.
This taxi driver tried to be smart. "That's the Dusit Inya Lake Resort, one of the best places for tourists," he said, to evade more curious questions. "Why can't I see her house?" I insisted. His uneasy choke discouraged me.
In Yangon, locals may walk the street enjoying the fresh air perfumed with the aroma of Burmese teak but somewhere in their gait, you can't miss the inherent fear. Be it at the crowded Bogyoke Aung San market or at the Shwedagon Pagoda, you'll seldom find them in a group laughing or chatting. The only laughter I heard was that of a group of Burmese girls with tanakha smeared on their faces, laughing. That too, behind a grilled door, inside their house.
At the Shwedagon Pagoda, a freelance tourist guide got friendly and volunteered to narrate the history of the 2,500-year-old golden pagoda. "The pagoda is 326 feet high. It has real diamond at the top," he said. We came across a memorial stone etched with names of students who died in 1920. "Why did they die?" These were the first 11 students of Rangoon College who affirmed an oath to boycott the Rangoon University Act. "Later many students were killed," he said covering his mouth in his maroon stole.
"Come on, why are you scared to educate us on your history?" I asked. With fingers on his lips, he said: "Here, you don't know who is who. I better keep quiet. It's dangerous for me to say anything."
In the evening, I saw hordes of office-goers returning home. The women would sit by the road clutching plastic baskets containing their empty lunch boxes. The men carry steel tiffin carriers. Amid the thousand frowns if you spot a smile, you are lucky. They don't even seem to discuss the day's events.
At another busy market near Green Elephant, I try my luck once again. "Does Aung Sang ever step out of her home?" I asked. The shopkeeper simply nodded his head and quickly withdrew the handcrafted teak Buddhas displayed in front of me. Before disappearing inside his shop, he smiled as if to say goodbye!
© HT Media Ltd. 2004.