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a stump of a wrist. The saddest of all is a
woman who is blind as well.
I reach lots of little stalls on both sides
of the path. Many sellers go to one festival
after another throughout the year: they
rent a space, set up shop and then take it
down at the end of the
pwe
. There were all
kinds of farming implements, toys, clothes,
fabric and little metal cups and plates to
take home and put on the house
nat
altar.
Offerings to the Nat
I enter a large hall. At one end is an area
enclosed by bars and locked gates. Only
special people are allowed in (which
rules me out). On a raised stage four
nats
are stationed. The
nat
on the right is
Ma Bo Mae, the middle two are Princess
Manisithu with Prince Wailuwaddy. The
most important, and the
nat
I have come
so far to see, is Ko Gyi Kyaw, seated on his
imposing golden and black horse.
On every table I pass, Ko Gyi Kyaw’s of-
ferings are on display. Some
nats
like pork
or beef, but he favours chicken and there
they sit, roasted and ready to eat. They are
complete with neck and head – only the
feathers have gone.
A woman beside me starts shaking
violently and is falling into a trance.
rice, tealeaf salad or
laphat
(fermented
or pickled tea). He loves drinking
toddy
or indeed any form of alcohol and loves
cockfighting, gambling, betel, cigarettes
and dancing.
It is a duty in Myanmar to attend the
Ko Gyi Kyaw Nat Festival each year and
many travel huge distances to do so. If
your business has done well, then you are
going to pay respects and give thanks. If
you have done badly, then you go to pay
respects and ask for Ko Gyi Kyaw’s help.
Along both sides of the road for many
miles villagers stand holding (and shaking)
silver coloured bowls. They are cashing in
(literally) on the visitors to the
pwe
. The
money they receive does not go – as I first
thought – to the village hosting the
pwe
. It
goes towards mending their village road
or buildings.
I need all the help I can get from Ko
Gyi Kyaw when we reach the riverbank.
Hundreds of people with large bags are
crowding into the boat. By the time I leave
the jetty it is standing room only and I
wonder if I will be able to savemy passport
if the boat goes down.
Safely across on the other side, I have a
celebratory cup of coffee andwatch as two
streams of bullock carts ferry folk in two
different directions. One carries
pwe
goers
to the festivities, the other takes people to
a place (or many places) where they may
sleep for the 12 or 13 nights that the
pwe
is on. In their huge bags are blankets that
they will need for sleeping on the ground
in the open air as it gets cold at night.
Nats and Nagadaws
Legend says that Ko Gyi Kyaw was a
real person who lived in the village of
Pakhan Ngae. Unfortunately for him,
someone told King Anawrahta that he
was a rival so, naturally, King Anawrahta
had him killed. That was how Ko Gyi
Kyaw became a
nat
.
I walk along quietly wondering what
the day may hold. Would
nagadaws
be
dancing or maybe they would not start
for a day or two. A
nagadaw
is the human
wife of a
nat
and they dance to a traditional
orchestra of drums and pipes to please
him. When the dancing heats up the
nagadaw
goes into a trance and it is then
said that the
nat
is speaking through her.
Beside the path, old people, or those
who are incapacitated in some way, sit
on the ground. They hope visitors will put
something in their bowl. Many of themare
lepers without fingers or even hands, just
In the 11th Century, King
Anawrahta of Pagan
converted to Buddhism, but
in a most enlightened way,
did not forbid his subjects
fromworshipping their
animistic spirits or nats