One more tale from the trip I took with the monks to Kakku, along with some very blurry photos. As I detailed in a post last month, I encountered a problem with my camera lens the day before I was scheduled to take the monks to Kakku. I ended up borrowing a small digital camera from my friend Ma Pu Sue in Nyaungshwe, so a photo-less journey was averted. However, I failed to account for another possible glitch; using up the camera battery. Which is exactly what happened. But fortunately the battery didn’t run out until we had finished traipsing around the stupa grove and taking the majority of the photos.
I did remember to bring my faulty camera with me, thinking I could still coax the lens into operating, and it did, except that the focus was not quite what it should have been. Nevertheless, I took a few more shots of the monks posing in front of a pond, including a cute photo of one of the young novice monks holding a cat. Ah, if only that one had been in focus!
On the trip back to Nyaungshwe out on a country road in the middle of what seemed like nowhere, our van had a flat tire. That’s one phrase I had already learned in Burmese: bein paut de! Our Pa-O guide, Nang Khan Moon, suggested that we walk around the small village on the other side of the road, which just so happened to be a Pa-O village, while the driver fixed the flat. The one monk who had been sick was still not feeling well enough to accompany us, so he stayed behind while the rest of us took a stroll down the dirt lanes of the neighborhood.
I realize it’s difficult to tell from these hazy photos, but the village was quite attractive, and very clean and tidy. Immaculate is not strong a word. But there wasn’t a soul around. Nang Khan Moon explained that the villagers were all working at fields in the area and would return later in the afternoon. We passed attractive little thatched homes, most of which had firewood stacked neatly outside. I saw banana trees, papaya trees, tomato plants, and even some coffee plants growing at one house.
About 20 minutes into our walk, raindrops began to fall, so we picked up the pace and made it to the shelter of a nearby automotive parts shop before the rain got stronger. While we were at the stop, the two youngest monks purchased padlocks. This confused me. For one, where did they get the money to use for this purchase? And secondly, what do they need padlocks for at the monastery? Is there a theft problem of some sort there? I’ll have to ask some local friends about that next time I’m in town. In any case, the young monks appeared to be quite smitten with their new locks. Hey, whatever makes you happy!
A few minutes later, the van pulled up, a new tire now securely in place, and off we continued on towards Taunggyi. After stopping at one of the big hilltop pagodas in town, where I took yet more blurry photos, we piled back in the van (except for the sick monk, who was feeling so weak that he still wasn’t joining our walks) and headed back to Nyaungshwe. Yet another trip that hadn’t gone quite as planned, but as I told Nang Khan Moon, the flat tire was one of those “happy accidents” that gave me a chance to see something I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.