Mount Victoria, Chin State, Western Myanmar, 2013
I
have a mania for indigenous tribes… Besides wanting to document their primitive ways of life, revolving around
the earliest creations of humankind, some of which are disappearing due to the
fast-paced globalization process, being in their environments is like a fantasy
world come true. The trekking adventures to the villages, their eccentric
costumes, and superstitious elements embedded in daily life, are a world away
actually existing in reality, and I always travel to the far-flung corners of
the world to live it.
A
few months ago, I got an e-mail from a photographer friend who sent me a
beautiful picture of women with faces tattooed in a spider web pattern, labeled
‘Chin Women, Myanmar.’ Feeling an adrenaline rush through my body, I punched
‘chin women tattoo Myanmar’ onto Google and browsed through the results. The
Chin tribe is native to the
mountainous region of Chin Hills-Arakan Yoma in western Myanmar, some of whose
villages surround one of the country’s most beautiful
trekking destinations, Mount Victoria. Never had to think twice, I called my
trekking buddies up, and had the return tickets ready to
leave Bangkok in less than 3 weeks. And what was even cooler was, we would be
there during New Year.
---
Landing
in Mandalay, we took a night train to Bagan where we arranged a Pajero taxi to
drive us to Mindat for 100 USD (one way). We actually preferred taking buses to
get to Mindat as what cheap travelers usually do. But anyone who could speak English
we asked in Bagan said either there was no public transportation to Mindat or buses
weren’t regular and we would have to make more than 3 transits. To avoid all the
hassles and save time, a taxi was our best choice.
On
the next day, our taxi driver collected us from our guesthouse in Bagan at 6am
sharp. As the early morning’s cold wind rushed through the windowless Parejo,
cutting into our flesh, the driver told us the ride to Mindat, where we would
start trekking, was going to take 9 hours despite the town being less than 100
kilometers away. Once the sun rose and we delighted on its warm glow, farms and
rice fields bathed in gold dotted with the silhouettes of tall toddy palms
started to appear along the road.
 |
| Tanaka, the secret of Burmese's beautiful skin, a market in a village somewhere on the way from Bagan to Mindat |
A
few hours after of dozing and some serious napping, we woke up to the abrupt
change of landscape, a desert with sand hills and cacti and savage spiky
plants. We crossed dried out rivers several times, passed farmers ploughing
with ox carts, small villages, and yellow mustard fields. We climbed mountains
which was now thick with pine trees, and were dropped off at Mopi I Guesthouse in
Mindat around 3pm (35,000 Kyat per night for 3 persons after a lot of
negotiation). The driver left and said our Chin guide would meet us the next
day first thing in the morning.
 |
| Crossing a dried out river |
 |
| A yellow mustard field |
 |
| A lunch stop. Street-side eateries always serve a set menu of refillable dishes for 2,000 Kyat per person (foreign visitor's price) |
 |
| Burmese Salad |
 |
| On the way to Mindat |
 |
| Rice fields during a harvest, near Mindat |
In
the misty air of 15 degree Celsius, we paced around to keep warm and waited to
meet our guide. Nai Kie Chang, shorten as Kie, our guide turned up and we settled
to the deal of 4 days trekking on pedestrian trails to Mount Victoria, ending
at Kanpetlet town on the other side of the mountain. His fee was 35,000 Kyat
per day and we hired 2 motorbikes for 40,000 Kyat to carry our bags and food
supplies. The motorbikes would be driven by Kie’s friends on motor roads and
would meet us at the villages we stay overnight. Kie's friends turned out to be a 14 and a 17 year old boys. And they preferred taking a few days off for a fun road trip to going to school.
About
11am, we headed south of Mindat and Kie led us off the motor trail at the town’s
end into the trail that winded through thick green mountains dotted with
villagers’ roofs; some were bright orange or red, while others were thatched.
White flower shrubs grew wildly alternating with overhead-tall grass.
 |
| A slope with a landslide |
We
arrived at Lao Pe village, our tonight stay around 2.30pm. The small village
had houses all built with thatched roofs, teak structure, and plaited leave
walls. Some had animal skulls hanging all over the walls.
Kie
explained the ox and bull skulls were from sacrifices in ceremonies and to please
spirits to turn bad into good fortunes. He also pointed to the poles used to
hang the sacrificed animal’s bodies or heads. Whereas the skulls of deer, wild
boars, flying lemurs were the pride of the hunters. I spotted strings of broken
egg shells hanged from roofs and he said they were remains of the fortune
telling. He asked if we wanted to meet the village’s shaman, and we couldn’t
wait to do so.
 |
| Eggs used to fortune telling |
 |
| Animal's sacrificing poles |
We
followed Kie into one of the village’s bigger huts. Kie introduced us to the
probably 70 years old shaman and his wife working in the kitchen. The shaman,
noting we wanted him to read our fortunes, prepared his kit. While he said the
prayers, his wife stuck bird’s feather into his beanie, signifying we were entering
a sacred ritual now. He emptied an egg, burned its shell with the tip of a
burned stick, drawing a few black dots in line on it. He said my health and
life conditions in general would be good. Then, he asked me if I had doubts or
particular questions to ask him. And I asked him when I would find my true love.
It was a half serious half joking question that sent my friends into a burst of
laughing.
 |
| The shaman's wife |
The
shaman, via Kie’s translation, asked if I could get married like...now. When I
said I hadn’t found a groom, he said with a laugh he could be one. Kie
explained Chin men can keep marrying women if his present wives can’t give him
baby boys. But his wife has given him 2 boys already and she, in her 70s, was
still beautiful. So, he had been joking. And then came the non-joking part, the
shaman said I was doomed for bad luck in love, but if I sacrificed a chicken, I
would find my love in the near future, to which, of course I said no. We
thanked and bid goodbye to the shaman and headed to the hut we would sleep
in.
In
the village, my wish of seeing women with tattoo faces had become true. Only
elderly women, mostly dressed in the same style: green tunics, colorful bead
necklaces, and sarongs, had tattoos on their faces. There are over 40
sub-groups in Chin tribe and their tattoo designs vary. The Munn group’s
pattern is a line of small
circles along the neck, straight lines making half moon shape for the cheeks
while the Dine just put dots all over the faces. Another group living in Arakan
state do spider-net patterns. Lao Pe is a village of Munn group. Kie said lots
of Dine could be seen in Mindat, and there was even a granny who played flute
with her nose, which is a practice usually done to express satisfaction and
gratitude when a woman is asked to be married. However, the granny only
performed for visitors now.
On the next
morning, we left Lao Pe for That Schwe village, which was the closest settlement
to Mount Victoria base camp. A few minutes after leaving the village, we passed
the village’s cemetery filled with knee-height stone tables. Kie said they were
the tombs and buried underneath were jars of the dead’s ashes. Stopping at Aye
village for lunch, we then walked a small trail sided by a cliff on the right
and steep slope on the left. There were so many clouds floating above the
valley we couldn’t see what was below, and it made it look as if we were
walking above the cloud.
 |
| A group of villagers we met on the way from Lao Pe to That Schwe |
 |
| A hunter |
At That Schwe,
there were less than 20 villager’s huts. The cold and dry wind blew vigorously
here and the temperature dropped so low as soon as the sun went down. Food was
scarce in the village since the villagers weren’t allowed to cut forest and
farm due to the fact that the area was protected within Nat Ma Taung National
Park. The villagers lived on simple vegetables like beans and potatoes grown in
their backyards. We, running out of food, had to buy eggs and a chicken twice as
expensive as the prices we paid in Mindat’s market from a villager who happened
to live and work in Thailand for 7 years and could speak Thai. After dinner,
we crawled into the -15 degree sleeping bags tugged under 3 layers of blankets,
shivered for a while until the exhaustion eventually put us to sleep.
 |
| That Schwe Village |
At 7 the next
morning, we packed lunch to eat at Mount Victoria’s summit, and walked the 9
kilometer motor road to the base camp, taking pedestrian trails most of the
time to shorten the distance. The low pine forest was thick with the chirping
sound of birds to be heard everywhere. Near the base camp, we started to get
dark evergreen forest with large oaks and alpine species typical in the Himalaya further
north, including the rhododendron trees. We arrived at the base camp at 11 and
continued climbing another 3.5 kilometers towards the summit.
We were now
exposed to the panoramic landscapes walking on the trail snaking on the
mountain ridge rugged with dry yellow meadow dotted with shrubs of wild
flowers. The dark green leaves of bushes and tall trees contrasted with the
clear azure sky. Rhododendrons were at bloom with red flowers. On the way, we
ran into some of Kie’s acquaintances from Mindat who were also making a journey
up to the summit. The boys were in their purple traditional Chin gowns. They were
singing, talking, and laughing the whole time. Though we could only communicate
via Kie’s translation, we found them very pleasant companions.
In less than 2
hours, we arrived at the summit ground. To one side there was a small pagoda
and a simple pavilion where trekkers rested and put up their tents. To the
other side, stood the real summit which was a bald hill with a flag pole. We
headed onto the hill, threw ourselves onto a patch of dry grass, and sucked
oxygen into our lungs big time before we unwrapped our lunch. The cold breeze
was a little too strong but the sunlight kept us warm. While we were eating,
Kie’s acquaintances started dancing their traditional dance which Kie explained
it was a defending dance and usually performed only at funerals. But sure,
exceptions can be made!
From the
summit, it took us only 1 hour to climb down to the base camp where Kie’s boys waited
to give us a ride back to That Schwe. We spent another night at the village,
feeling a bit more used to the cold now. On the next morning, Kie borrowed
another motorbike from a villager and the 6 of us drove on a dirt then paved
road all the way to Kanpetlet town. On the back of Kie’s motorbike moving fast
on the road winding down the mountain, I enjoyed the cool breeze rushing across
my face, and the view of the road-sided pine forest dotted with luxurious
resorts, some looking new and some being constructed.
 |
| A colonial period house on the way to Kanpetlet |
At about 11am,
we arrived in Kanpetlet. Despite being at mid day, the town, took over by the
mist, looked gloomy under the cloudy sky. Kie said that was the usual weather for Kanpetlet. We stopped
at a restaurant for lunch and as we girls agreed we preferred Mindat to the town, we asked Kie to take us back to Mindat on that
same day to spend our New Year’s Eve there.
 |
| A Munn tribe lady in Kanpetlet |
Kie accommodated
our request while announcing his duty as a guide was over and that now he would
just treat us like friends. We were happy with that until the boys started
drinking beer, chewing on bethel nuts and got pretty drunk we were afraid they
wouldn’t be able to drive back to Mindat. However, they got us back to Mindat
safe but we, each on the back of the motorbikes, had to tell the boys to slow
down every 3 minutes and to focus on the road. Kie’s motorbike broke down close to Mindat and
while waiting for the engine to cool down with the hope we could start it
again, a house uphill happened to be hosting a funeral and we were cordially
invited to join. The small wooden hut was packed with people. To one side of
the room, a coffin sat next to the wall. The men were playing traditional music
which sounded to us like some loud and un-rhythmatic noises. They took turn
getting up and performing the defending dance. Some were quite shy but others
were brave, with the help of locally brew alcohol.
 |
| Kie, at the funeral |
We stayed at
the funeral for less than half and hour then headed back to Mopi I Guesthouse
on only 2 motorbikes, leaving Kie’s motorbike behind to be picked up on the
next morning. On the next day, New Year’s Eve, Kie asked his brother to take us
sightseeing Mindat as he and the boys had to go to court for a fighting case they got
into with some other teenagers earlier. Kie’s brother took us
to
a few villages of walkable distance from Mindat and to the granny’s who could
play flute with her nose.
 |
| A Dine lady with black dots tattooed all over her face |
 |
| Cherry blossoms, plenty in Mindat and Kanpetlet |
 |
| A kind lady let us go into her house and take pictures of her craft |
 |
| Chin's knife bags |
After the show, we interviewed the
granny about face tattooing, and with the translation, she said she had been told the
tattoos were meant to hide Chin women’s beautiful faces and thus not to be
taken as wives of a Bagan king some time ago and men of other tribes. She
didn’t know if the story of the king of Bagan and men of other tribes wouldn’t
marry Chin ladies with tattoos was true but ever since she was a child, all the
women in her village had tattoos. She did it because everyone else did it and
some people considered facial tattoos more beautiful, especially when paired
with traditional costumes, large earrings and necklaces.
The ink was made of smoke of burnt green pine barks mixed with a kind of bean leaves then injected onto the skin using the thorn of canes. The tradition dwindled when the Christian missionaries arrived, and completely banned by the Revolutionary Council from 1962 to 1974. And it never picked up again as Chin women’s faces are covered with thanaka powder now.
After the
sightseeing, we got back to our guesthouse and got ready for the night. Kie
came to pick us up from the guesthouse and the bar and bon fire
hopping lasted until nearly 2 in the morning. When alcohol was in these people’s
hands, the shy turned brave and the quiet turned loud. We were also informed
one of the guys at one of the bon fires was our bus driver for the ride scheduled on 8.30am on the next morning.
 |
| The night is young! |
 |
| Counting down to 2014, a bit before midnight |
 |
| 2014's New Year's morning, a good bless over a hang over |
At 8 o'clock on 2014's January 1st, I got
my window seat with my friends next to me while other passengers still uploaded
their stuff onto the bus’s roof and started taking empty seats. Kie came to see
us off, obviously still hanged over. The driver eventually took his seat at 9am,
starting the noisy old engine. We slowly left the station and hit the road. I
pulled out my camera and started flicking through the pictures, replaying each
moment vividly in my head. I watched Mindat pasting through my window as we headed
down the mountain to Pakkoku where we would catch another bus to Kalaw, looking
forward to our next adventure in the Town of Pine Trees.
...
..
.
Until We Meet Again, Mount Victoria!
