Showing posts with label English. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English. Show all posts

Friday, September 17, 2010

Junta’s Strategic Election



The Burmese military junta has declared ‘free and fair’ multi-party elections will be held on November 7. However, the military’s announcement has been met mostly with skepticism by those familiar with the regime’s appalling human rights records and history of brutally stifling all dissent. The elections are in accordance with the new Burmese constitution, which was approved in a May 2008 referendum widely regarded as rigged.

The international community has expressed concern that the first general election in Burma in 20 years may not run fairly or freely following the issuance of a new law that effectively bans democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi from participating in the contest. The Nobel Peace Prize laureate described the new election laws as “repressive” and “unjust.”

UN Secretary General in September urged the Burmese authorities to ensure conditions conducive to a fully inclusive and participatory electoral process.

UN Secretary General said that a ministerial-level meeting of the Group of Friends of Myanmar is expected to be held in New York on Sept. 27 on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly.

It is disheartening to see that the elections have been “rigged” from the start. Burma’s election laws are very strict, which has already forced the military regime’s main opponent, the National League for Democracy, to decide not to register for the elections.

Moreover, the United Nations, members of ASEAN, and numerous Western nations have insisted that the elections will not be credible without the participation of Suu Kyi.

In the last free election in 1990, the Burmese people overwhelmingly rejected military rule, awarding the National League for Democracy party more than 80 percent of the seats in parliament. Yet the military has refused to allow the NLD to form a government. In the 20 years since that election, Burmese democracy activists have faced imprisonment, intimidation, torture and death as they have peacefully voiced demands for justice, individual and ethnic rights, and a democratic form of government that is representative of all Burma’s people.

Ever since their embarrassing loss in 1990, the military regime has been afraid to hold elections in fear of again losing.

U Win Tin, a member of the Central Executive Committee and a co-founder of the National League for Democracy, wrote in an article that the showcase election planned by the military regime makes a mockery of the freedom sought by Burmese people and is simply intended to make military dictatorship permanent.

Key ministries including justice, defense and the interior will remain under the control of the military, and under the 2008 constitution, a quarter of the 440 parliament seats will be reserved for military officials. People holding military permissions are not permitted to contest the election. As such, twenty members of the junta, including Prime Minister Thein Sein, have retired from their posts to participate in the election. With the primary opponents out of the way, military leaders are resigning left and right from their posts to run in the 2010 elections as civilians. Furthermore, already one-fourth of the new Myanmar Parliament has been reserved for military officials, which means the officials who have resigned and are campaigning as civilians are most likely being positioned to take the remaining 75% of the seats in support of the military. The military plans to gain virtually all the seats of power.

A 224-member House of Nationalities will have 168 elected candidates and 56 nominated by the military chief, while the 440-member House of Representatives will have 330 elected civilians and 110 military representatives. In total, there will be 1,163 seats in the national and regional parliaments elected by the people. At the same time, the results of the 1990 elections were annulled as they did not comply with the new election laws.

All of this has led the new laws to being described as a “farce” by the Philippines and a “mockery” by the United States.

The United States and other Western governments have roundly criticized Burma’s election plans as undemocratic. They have pressed the junta to release all political prisoners, including Suu Kyi. Several countries impose economic and political sanctions on Burma over its human rights record.

But observers don’t expect any concessions from the junta before the election. In any event, Western influence in Burma is far weaker than that of neighboring countries like Thailand, China, and India, which have invested far more in Burma’s resource-based economy.

Some scholars said that the Burmese military junta has ensured that its hand-picked candidates will win in November by imposing restrictions on opponents, including expensive filing fees, tight deadlines and limits on who can be on the ballot.

Observers, especially pro-democracy supporters, have indignantly expressed outrage at the military regime’s so-called “fair elections”. Japan and other Asian countries have tried to convince the military dictators to hold elections that are actually democratic. The European Union, after considering Burma in the European Union Foreign Affairs Council meeting, has added another year to their political sanctions on Burma after the Asian country’s failure to respond to concerns about its elections being unfair.

Regardless of the mockery that the 2010 Myanmar elections may make of the democratic process, it would be an even bigger blow for the country if no genuine opposition participates. Under the new laws, the NLD will face dissolution as a legal entity if it continues with its current plan to boycott the election.

The Central executive council of NLD party has decided that it will not take part in the elections unless the following three demands are met: the release of political prisoners (approximately 2,100, of which around 400 are members of the NLD), observers be allowed to monitor the elections, and the Constitution of 2008 is revisited and examined. However, military junta has failed to respond to any of the demands of the NLD.

Despite the undemocratic clauses of the 2008 Constitution on which the 2010 election is based, it will essentially allow a pseudo-civilian government to be formed after the election. This will include the re-introduction of a parliamentary system in Burma, albeit with 25 per cent of the seats guaranteed for the military.

Despite the unfair practices and challenges any opposition party may face, the election also provides an opportunity for opposition groups to challenge the SPDC, by competing for seats against junta-backed proxy parties.

The Election Commission said 37 other parties would take part in the vote and that campaigning can take place from Sept. 24 through Oct. 30, but parties must refrain from making speeches that "tarnish the image" of the military.

The commission announced that five political parties were disbanded after they failed to renew registration as a political party for the Nov. 7 election.

Along with the NLD, four other parties were disbanded: the Shan Nationalities League for Democracy, the Union Pa-O National Organization, the Shan State Kokang Democratic Party and the Wa National Development Party.

NLD spokesman Nyan Win in September 15 said the party will contend that the commission has no authority to dissolve an existing political party, only parties registered by the commission for the upcoming election.

The government established the Union Solidarity and Development Association, which is largely seen as their ‘grassroots’ political arm, in 1993. The organization claims to have around half the population as members. The National Unity Party, which contested the 1990 election as the main pro-government party and won 10 seats, has also registered to run.

Reuters estimates that six parties in total are allied to the government. The junta itself, according to the Japanese newspaper Asahi Shimbun, will also be setting up two or three proxy parties to contest the election.

The Burmese military junta is notorious for its cunning and trickery. Therefore it is seen as difficult to believe they are capable of running an election with credibility, exclusivity, and fairness in 2010.

Top NLD leader Win Tin’s suggestion to Senior U.S. diplomat Mr. Kurt Campbell on 10 May 2010 was for the U.S. “not to recognize the results of the upcoming election, which will be held without the two important elements — credibility and exclusivity — that the international community has demanded.”

Ethnic issues and the Elections

The elections will be held the way the military junta wants them to be irrespective of the pressure exerted on it by neighbors or the international community. However, some expect a few concessions, such as the release of political prisoners and the acceptance of observers from neighboring countries, may be forthcoming just before the elections.

With or without the concessions, the biggest difficulty in creating an inclusive process may be in convincing the ethnic minorities that there is a reason for them to take part in the electoral process, even if they are not granted the concessions concerning autonomy that they desire.

40% the country’s population is composed of ethnic minorities and they control a sizable land mass all around the periphery of the nation. They joined the union at the time of Burmese independence from England. At the time, they were promised autonomy at a later date. However, autonomy has never been granted to any of the ethnic states.

The military junta has entered into ceasefire agreements with 17 ethnic rebel groups between 1989-94 with concessions to retain their arms and control of some parts of the territories occupied by the ethnic minorities.

In the 1990 elections most of the ethnic groups had joined hands and had fared well (especially the Shan National League for Democracy).

As a prelude to a smooth election the military junta has been pressuring the ethnic groups to transform their armies into border guards under the leadership of the Burmese Army, and to form their own political parties to contest the forthcoming elections.

Most of the ethnic armies (particularly the stronger ones such as the United Wa State Party (UWSP), the Kachin Independence organization (KIO) and the New Mon State Party (NMSP) have refused to be transformed into border guards and to contest the 2010 election. The few groups that may be taking part in the elections are perhaps hoping to take advantage of the political space made available, particularly at the regional level.

Many fear that once the 2010 elections are over and the new constitution is in force, the ethnic minorities will lose the few rights and privileges they have been enjoying until now.

The Constitution sets out a “self administered division” for the Wa and UWSA (the biggest of the ethnic minorities with 15,000–20,000 fighters) and plans to create 14 assemblies in areas that are home to the major ethnic groups, making the first offer of political space to the non-Burmese. However the regional assemblies will be under the supervision of the junta, which has the power to appoint one-fourth of the members to each assembly, as well as the chief minister of each region.

Asean leaders view the new Constitution and the election as positive steps by the junta. They may see the Constitution as a tool to recognize the political rights of the ethnic nationalities, since it grants the major ethnic states their own local parliaments as well as self-administrative areas for some ethnic minorities.

Those are positive changes, but why has the disarmament of the ethnic cease-fire groups, especially in the cases of the Kachin Independent Army (KIA) and United Wa State Army (UWSA), remained such a stumbling block? What are the difficulties behind this plan?

After an unsuccessful series of negotiations and postponements of the deadline for transforming into a Border Guard Force (BGF) last year, the KIA, with just 4,000 troops, is still in talks with the junta. The latest KIA proposal is to totally give up its arms if the junta honors the principles of the Panglong Agreement.

From a structural viewpoint, Burma’s new Constitution does appear to embrace a decentralized system with legislative power granted to state and regional Hluttaws [Parliaments] as well as the Leading [legal] Bodies within Self-Administered Areas.

Section 56 of the Constitution grants the UWSA-controlled areas in Shan State the status of a Self-Administered Division in a geographical area including six townships. In effect, it is equal to the other five Self-Administered Zones, which include the Naga, Danu, Pa-O, Pa Laung and Kokang.

However, the degree of freedom granted to the lowest legislative bodies in both administrative areas is so controlled that they will not have the autonomy necessary to make a single law governing their area if it is believed to be against the laws enacted by the Shan State Hluttaw, which also must be consistent with the laws of the national Hluttaw [Parliament], according to Section 198 of the Constitution.

In the national Hluttaw, the junta is assured of at least 25 percent of the seats (by the Constitution), in effect granting it a veto power to reject any legislation that the generals' oppose.

As a consequence, the border guard force proposal and the limited legislative powers granted to major ethnic groups in the Constitution are both major obstacles to national reconciliation. The major ethnic cease-fire groups will not accept the junta’s BGF plan and so far are reluctant to form political parties to contest the election, in effect granting it credibility.

After previously rejecting the registration application of the Kachin State Progressive Party (KSPP), Burma's Election Commission (EC) has in September 16 rejected the applications of 14 leading KSPP members, including its founder Tu Ja, who alternatively applied to run as individuals.

With such provisions the ethnic groups will lose their right to choose their chiefs and their self-determination rights, and hence their opportunity to voice their dissent. Some analysts have predicted that the civil war of six decades now in its ebb may erupt in full swing if the military junta is not able to settle the ethnic minority issues before the election.

It is incumbent on the ethnic minorities to come together and pose a united front if even some semblance of autonomy is to be achieved in their areas.

Refugees and Election

There is no doubt that the constitution is meant to perpetuate Military Despotism because the military is to be entrenched in every institution of the state. On the other hand, this constitution is also meant to establish an “Authoritarian Centralist” government. There is much concern that it will deny all democratic and human rights, as well as all rights of ethnic nationalities.

The generals, no doubt, now believe that there is no reason to hand power over to other groups that would benefit from what they have created: billions of dollars worth of natural gas revenue; a 20-year investment in the country’s infrastructure development, including mega hydro-power projects and dams; and expanding foreign trade, mainly with neighboring countries.

However, the military, for 20 years, has faced the fact that it is considered illegitimate both domestically and internationally. Also, despite being effectively marginalized, the armed ethnic groups have generally given little ground to the junta's demands. The generals have failed to solve the half-century old armed ethnic conflicts, the extreme poverty of the majority population, the threats of illegal drugs and the threat of endemic diseases such as HIV/AIDS, malaria and tuberculosis.

The Burmese military junta expressed on 12 May 2010 that Burma has no need for foreign observers to monitor its first elections in two decades, despite international concerns that the polls will lack legitimacy.

There have been concerns from aid agencies that the upcoming election could see a growing number of refugees fleeing to Thailand, Malaysia, Bangladesh and China, due to alleged government repression, poverty and low-level ethnic conflict. Ceasefires between the military government and ethnic groups were also deteriorating.

Hundreds of thousands of Burmese lived in neighboring countries in refugee-like circumstances. Many may have fled Burma because they feared persecution.

At the end of June 2010, about 88,900 refugees and asylum-seekers were registered with the UNHCR in Malaysia, according to the UNHCR website.

Of those, 82,200 were refugees from Burma, comprising 38,700 Chin, 10,000 Rohingya, 7,000 Burmese Muslims, 3,800 Mon, 3,600 Kachin and other ethnic minorities from Burma.

2009 Global Trends: Refugees, Asylum-seekers, Returnees, Internally Displaced and Stateless Persons shows that the largest number of refugees who were resettlement with UNHCR assistance departed from Nepal (17,500), Thailand (16,800), Malaysia (7,500).

It shows that Malaysia was the fourth most important destination country in 2009, with more than 40,000 asylum claims registered with the UNHCR office, mostly people from Myanmar (94 %). The Global report says that the highest number of new asylum claim was filed by individuals originating from Zimbabwe (153,200) and Myanmar (Burma) 48,600. Three-quarters of asylum claims lodged by citizens of Myanmar were registered.

About 500,000 Burmese migrants work in Malaysia, legally and illegally, according to the Kuala Lumpur-based Burma Workers’ Rights Protection Committee.

The flow of refugees from Burma to Thailand, Malaysia and other countries has cost Burma’s neighbours millions of dollars in food and humanitarian assistance. The Burma Refugee Organization calls on officials of impacted ASEAN countries to measure the financial cost of hosting refugees displaced from Burma, and to request financial compensation from Burma’s military junta for costs incurred in caring for the refugees.

It asks the government of Malaysia to address the trafficking, selling and slavery of Burmese and other migrants within Malaysia and across its border with Thailand. As a signatory to the Convention on the Rights of the Child and the Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW), Malaysia is urged to consider alternatives to detention for refugees and asylum seekers, especially for women and children.

ASEAN has a major role to play in the elections, however flawed it may be. It has to function as a link between Myanmar and the international community and vice-versa. Myanmar can be persuaded to have observers at least from ASEAN.

The international community, while exerting pressure for release of political prisoners and for the elections to be inclusive, free and fair, should be prepared to interact with the new government and seek opportunities for positive changes towards democracy.

We are extremely disappointed about the junta’s preparations for the upcoming elections and urge all concerned parties to exert pressure in order to ensure that the Burmese military regime is not able to make the upcoming elections a complete sham.

Blogger Demowaiyan, Alinsek & Kamikaze

16, September, 2010

ဆက္လက္ဖက္႐ွဳရန္...

Monday, August 23, 2010

‘ ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္ ’ ဆိုတာ

‘ ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္ ’ ဆိုတာ





“Prayer is the key to Heaven, but faith unlocks the door.”

Prayer quotes

‘ဆုေတာင္းျခင္း’ ဟာ ေကာင္းကင္ႏိုင္ငံေတာ္သို႔ သြားဖို႔ ေသာ့တစ္ေခ်ာင္းသာျဖစ္ျပီး၊ ‘ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္’ သာ ေကာင္းကင္ႏိုင္ငံေတာ္ တံခါးေတြကို ပြင့္ေစတာပါ။


glitters fantasy



Faith is the bird that sings when the dawn is still dark.

Rabindranath Tagore

‘ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္’ ဆိုတာ ေရာင္နီမလာတဲ့ အာရံုတတ္ခ်ိန္မွာေတာင္ ေတးသီတဲ့ ငွက္တစ္ေကာင္ျဖစ္တယ္။



Sunbeams out of the clouds

Faith out of all my doubt.

Terri Guillemets

ေနေရာင္ျခည္ဟာ တိမ္ညိဳမိႈင္းေတြကို ခြင္းႏိုင္တယ္။

‘ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္’ ဟာ သံသယေတြကို ေဖ်ာက္ႏိုင္တယ္။


Martin Luther King Faith Quote

Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to.

George Seaton

‘ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္’ ဆိုတာ အမ်ားက မျဖစ္ႏိုင္ဘူးလို႔ ထင္ေနတာကို ျဖစ္ႏိုင္တယ္လို႔ ယုံၾကည္ေနျခင္းျဖစ္သည္။

Dance Love Sing Live - Myspace Quote Graphics

Weave in faith and God will find the thread.

Author Unknown

ရက္ကန္းယက္ဖို႔ ‘ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္’ သာရွိပါေစ။ ဘုရားသခင္က အပ္ခ်ည္ ရွာေပးပါလိမ့္မယ္။



Fear knocked at the door. Faith answered. And lo, no one was there.

Author Unknown

‘အေၾကာက္တရား’ က တံခါးလာေခါက္တဲ့အခါ၊ ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္’ က ျပန္ေျဖလိုက္တာက ‘ ဒီမွာ ဘယ္သူမွ မရိွဘူးတဲ့။”


Love Makes Them Easy


Faith... must be enforced by reason.... When faith becomes blind it dies. Mahatma Gandhi

ဆင္ျခင္တံုတရားနဲ႔ ျပည္စံုတဲ့ ‘ ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္ ’ ရွိရမယ္။ ‘ ယံုၾကည္ခ်က္ ’ ရွိလာရင္ အရာရာကို ျမင္ႏိုင္မယ္။


Not every interview requires diagrams.


ဘေလာ့ဂါ အလင္းဆက္

၂၄. ၾသဂုတ္လ. ၂၀၁၀


Fantasy Myspace Comments




မုန္တိုင္းစဲျပီးေနာက္ ငွက္ကေလးေတြေတာင္ ေတးသီႏိုင္ေသးရင္ အသင္လူသားတို႔ ဘာေၾကာင့္မ်ား မႏိုးထႏိုင္ၾကရမွာလဲ။


faith spiritual quotes Pictures, Images and Photos


ဆက္လက္ဖက္႐ွဳရန္...

Sunday, August 8, 2010

The Burma Road boys (The Yunnan-Burma Road)

Heroic contributions of the Nanqiao ji gong

By CHOW EE-TAN



An extraordinary moment in Malayan history is recorded in a documentary film.

IT is not a piece of pre-World War II history that is familiar to most Malaysians today: In 1939, more than 3,000 young men from South-East Asia, most from Malaya, left their families and homes voluntarily to travel to China to work as drivers and mechanics during the Sino-Japanese War of 1937-1945.

They were known as Nanqiao ji gong or “overseas Chinese mechanics”. Though, as records eventually showed, there were actually Indians and Malays too among these adventurous men.

These volunteers’ task took them along the Burma Road, a more than 1,000km-long route that began at the railhead town of Lashio in north-east Burma (or Myanmar) and wound its way across mountainous terrain through the province of Yunnan in the south-west corner of China to end at the provincial capital, Kunming.

Volunteer mechanics and drivers, most from Malaya and Singapore, undergoing training, circa 1939, near Kunming in China, where the Burma Road ended. – Photos courtesy of Tang Xiaomei and Low Toh Nam

Legend has it that 14th century Italian explorer, Marco Polo, walked parts of this route – when it was probably just a path – on the way to his famous adventures in China.

Some scholars even claim that it was part of the great Silk Roads network (Between Winds and Clouds: The Making of Yunnan, Second Century BCE to Twentieth Century CE by Bin Yang at gutenberg-e.org/yang/index.html).

Hardship and sacrifice

When the Japanese began blockading China’s seaboard in 1937 to cut off access to overseas war materials, the Chinese Government turned to this inland route that crossed its border to maintain a tenuous link with the outside world.

By the middle of 1938, the Yunnan-Burma Road, laid along segments of that ancient trail, was completed and ready for heavy use. (The Yunnan-Burma Highway and Yunnan Economy During the Periods of Anti-Japanese War by Li Cheng, Journal of Asian Culture and History, Canadian Center of Science and Education, ccsenet.org.)

But when government officials began the process of shipping military supplies from Irrawaddy River ports to Lashio for transportation into China via the road, they realised there were not enough skilled drivers and mechanics in China to service this overland route.

A patch from a volunteer’s uniform (above); the volunteers were sorted into Overseas Transportation Teams, each with its own insignia. They also received graduation certificates after they completed their training.

They knew, however, that Malaya and Singapore had an estimated 50,000 to 60,000 skilled workers, according to research done for a documentary film made by a Chinese TV station and museum about the Nanqiao ji gong.

So in February 1939, a recruitment drive began in Singapore that called for drivers and mechanics aged between 20 to 40 years old to come to China’s aid. The drive was held under the aegis of the China Relief Fund that had initially been formed to raise funds from overseas Chinese to aid China during the Sino-Japanese War.

The response to the call was astonishing: within a matter of months more than 3,000 men – and not all of them Chinese either – from this part of the world volunteered, eventually joining tens of thousands of mainland Chinese in plying the 1,153km Yunnan-Burma Road.

According to the researchers, upon arriving in Kunming, the Nanqiao ji gong were sorted into Overseas Transportation Teams and given additional training.

It was these men’s job to ferry fuel, weapons, ammunition and soldiers to various parts of China. In return, the Chinese Government provided food, accommodation and medical support and a monthly salary of between 69 and 74 yuan, which was quite low compared to wages for such jobs in Malaya and Singapore at that time.

A map provided by the Yunnan Province archives dating back to the Sino-Japanese War and showing China’s single tenuous link to the outside world during that conflict.

Certainly, the money could not compensate for the dangers. In Singapore last year, an exhibition about the Nanqiao ji gong that included more than 100 hours of oral histories powerfully showed how the Burma Road was not for the faint-hearted.

The route travelled over two mountain ranges, crossing three rivers and countless gorges over more than 400 bridges; it ran along the edges of cliffs and slopes and there were long stretches with sharp and precarious bends, as the road rose from about 600m to over 2,000m above sea level along its length. And then there were mosquito-infested jungles where deadly malaria was rampant.

Singapore’s Straits Times, in covering that exhibition, quoted some of the oral histories; one interviewee was Tan Chong Tee, 93 last year, who in 1942 joined Force 136, a branch of Britain’s Special Operations Executive, the organisation established to support and supply local resistance in South-East Asia.

Burma Road drivers ferried SOE and Force 136 operatives on their missions. Tan said: “We had a saying that if a truck flipped over on the highway on the first day of the month, it would reach the bottom only on the 15th. It was a very dangerous road. It was not paved and not wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other. The drivers needed to have very good skills.”

Another volunteer quoted, Captain Pek Cheng Chuan, who left Singapore in 1939 when he was 28, described the harsh conditions:

A member of the Kunming Television film crew (left) interviewing a former Nanqiao Ji gong (overseas Chinese mechanic) in Malaysia late last year for the documentary.

“In the three and a half years since we returned to China, we had never entered a room to sleep in quarters; only when we were ill did we sleep in a hospital bed. We had our luggage with us and we slept in our vehicles. There were munitions in the vehicle and we just spread our blankets and slept on them. Frequently, the Japanese airplanes swooped down to machine-gun us....”

But Pek was one of the fortunate ones who managed to return home after the war. He died in Singapore in 2005.

The reality was that by the time the war ended in 1945, about one-third of these volunteers had given their lives in the line of duty; some remained in China to find a living and got married and settled there. Only about 1,200 eventually returned to South-East Asia.

Remembering the Nanqiao ji gong

Last year marked the 70th anniversary of the first batch of volunteers leaving for China from South-East Asia.

And this year, in conjunction with the 65th anniversary of the end of the Sino-Japanese War, Kunming City is financing a documentary to be made by Kunming Television and the Kunming Museum’s historical research committee on the Nanqiao ji gong.

Researcher from China Tang Xiaomei became interested in the volunteers after she discovered her father had been one, and was originally from Penang. – CHOW EE-TAN

“The documentary will feature live interviews with the Chinese volunteers as well as the overseas volunteers who served during the war,” says Tang Xiaomei, the executive vice president of the documentary’s research committee.

“We know most of the volunteers are no longer around today, but we also hope to get in touch with their family members and descendants.

“According to current file information, of the more than 3,000 overseas mechanics from this part of the world, we believe more than 80% of them lived in Malaya,” says Tang.

Tang actually became involved in this research when she discovered that her own father had been an overseas volunteer who had come from Penang. After the war, he settled down in Kunming and married.

Tang and a team comprising the documentary’s director and editor and members of the Kunming Museum’s research committee have, to date, made two trips to Malaysia, when this writer met them.

With the help of local Chinese press and associations, the team managed to actually locate several Burma Road volunteers.

In December, they interviewed a volunteer in Sungai Siput, Perak, another in Malacca and family members and descendents of volunteers from Ipoh and Taiping in Perak, and in Seremban, Penang and Muar in Johor.

In May, the team returned to film interviews with three more living volunteers in Kuching and the small towns of Lundu and Serian in Sarawak.

Tracing non-Chinese volunteers

“One of the purposes of our trips here was to find some of the non-Chinese volunteers from Malaya,” says Tang.

According to Yunnan Province archives, records of the second brigade of Overseas Transportation Teams dated June 30, 1941, showed there were 97 non-Chinese mechanics – among them 55 Indians, 18 Malays, 11 Burmese and two Indonesians.

But if finding overseas Chinese volunteers in Malaysia was difficult, tracing non-Chinese volunteers has been almost impossible, especially as many never registered their full names.

The documentary film’s crew visited a memorial commemorating the Nanqiao ji gong who perished in the war. This memorial is at the Kwong Tong Cemetery, Kuala Lumpur’s oldest Chinese cemetery.

So far, the team has only been able to locate Dara Singh, who registered to serve in China as Wong Ah Leng. He was among the first batch of 20 who left Malaya in March, when he was 25 years old.

Dara Singh, a Sikh who hailed from Taiping, had been adopted by a Chinese family as a child and thus was fluent in Mandarin and Hokkien.

According to Kunming archives, he was appointed to the vanguard of the captain of the 2nd Battalion of the 6th Chinese Squadron and helped to set up its motor transport unit.

He led 134 drivers, of whom 94 were foreign volunteers. Due to his outstanding performance he was eventually awarded the rank of Colonel.

After the war ended, Dara married a Chinese girl and returned to Malaya; he was a teacher in Hua Lian School in Taiping, worked in the Forestry Department and later in the civil service in Seremban.

“We managed to interview his daughter, Dara Wong Yoke Kheng, in Taiping for the documentary last year,” says Tang, adding, “Dara Singh unfortunately had passed away some years back but his story had been published in a Malaysian newspaper a decade ago.”

Tang says that the team found in the archives a resume personally written by Dara Singh saying that he had worked in the Kamunting police station here – “Therefore, it is possible that he helped to recruit other local Indian drivers and mechanics to volunteer as drivers on the Burma Road.”

Records show one such volunteer of Malay origin known only as “Maya Sen”. At 35, he travelled to China in the same batch as Dara Singh and worked predominantly as a driver.

He reportedly worked in the town of Baoshan in Yunnan Province before being transferred back to Kunming for a while before returning to Malaya. The team is still trying to trace his whereabouts and his family.

Deserving of documentation

Meanwhile, Tang says, the documentary has been completed, though the team is continuing to compile historical documents and heritage information for the Kunming Museum.

The 250-minute documentary is divided into five episodes that will be aired over Kunming TV, with the first two episodes set to go next Sunday.

The documentary will cover, among other aspects, the historical background to the recruitment of the volunteers, how they bid farewell to their families and loved ones to answer the call of duty, the hardship of their lives and the sacrifices they made as mechanics and drivers on the Burma Road, their heroic contributions, and the tribute paid to them in retrospect by the people of China.

“As we looked back, we found that the history of the Nanqiao ji gong is not just the history of China or of the overseas Chinese, but of all people in South-East Asia,” says Tang.

“Yes, there may have been the ‘returning to their roots’ factor that moved the overseas Chinese to volunteer, but then we also had others such as Dara Singh and Maya Sen joining in the operations. It proves that at a critical juncture, people here were united by the spirit of comradeship to fight against a war of aggression and safeguard peace and justice.

“I hope that Malaysians of all walks of lives will continue to work together for peace despite being of different colour or race.”

If you have any information on ‘Maya Sen’ or any of the Burma Road volunteers or their families, contact Low Toh Nam at anaktanahair@hotmail.com or 012-521 7412.

The ‘Nanqiao Jigong: The Extraordinary Story of Nanyang Drivers and Mechanics Who Returned to China During the Sino-Japanese War’ exhibition opened in Yunnan, China, in 2009, travelled to Beijing and thence to Singapore in October. It will be available online at a later stage.


ၤFrom... The Burma Road boys (The Star newspaper) Sunday August 8, 2010




If you want to understand today, you have to search yesterday.

Pearl Buck





Blogger Alinsek
9.August.2010





ဆက္လက္ဖက္႐ွဳရန္...

The Burma Road boys

Heroic contributions of the Nanqiao ji gong

By CHOW EE-TAN


An extraordinary moment in Malayan history is recorded in a documentary film.

IT is not a piece of pre-World War II history that is familiar to most Malaysians today: In 1939, more than 3,000 young men from South-East Asia, most from Malaya, left their families and homes voluntarily to travel to China to work as drivers and mechanics during the Sino-Japanese War of 1937-1945.

They were known as Nanqiao ji gong or “overseas Chinese mechanics”. Though, as records eventually showed, there were actually Indians and Malays too among these adventurous men.

These volunteers’ task took them along the Burma Road, a more than 1,000km-long route that began at the railhead town of Lashio in north-east Burma (or Myanmar) and wound its way across mountainous terrain through the province of Yunnan in the south-west corner of China to end at the provincial capital, Kunming.

Volunteer mechanics and drivers, most from Malaya and Singapore, undergoing training, circa 1939, near Kunming in China, where the Burma Road ended. – Photos courtesy of Tang Xiaomei and Low Toh Nam

Legend has it that 14th century Italian explorer, Marco Polo, walked parts of this route – when it was probably just a path – on the way to his famous adventures in China.

Some scholars even claim that it was part of the great Silk Roads network (Between Winds and Clouds: The Making of Yunnan, Second Century BCE to Twentieth Century CE by Bin Yang at gutenberg-e.org/yang/index.html).

Hardship and sacrifice

When the Japanese began blockading China’s seaboard in 1937 to cut off access to overseas war materials, the Chinese Government turned to this inland route that crossed its border to maintain a tenuous link with the outside world.

By the middle of 1938, the Yunnan-Burma Road, laid along segments of that ancient trail, was completed and ready for heavy use. (The Yunnan-Burma Highway and Yunnan Economy During the Periods of Anti-Japanese War by Li Cheng, Journal of Asian Culture and History, Canadian Center of Science and Education, ccsenet.org.)

But when government officials began the process of shipping military supplies from Irrawaddy River ports to Lashio for transportation into China via the road, they realised there were not enough skilled drivers and mechanics in China to service this overland route.

A patch from a volunteer’s uniform (above); the volunteers were sorted into Overseas Transportation Teams, each with its own insignia. They also received graduation certificates after they completed their training.

They knew, however, that Malaya and Singapore had an estimated 50,000 to 60,000 skilled workers, according to research done for a documentary film made by a Chinese TV station and museum about the Nanqiao ji gong.

So in February 1939, a recruitment drive began in Singapore that called for drivers and mechanics aged between 20 to 40 years old to come to China’s aid. The drive was held under the aegis of the China Relief Fund that had initially been formed to raise funds from overseas Chinese to aid China during the Sino-Japanese War.

The response to the call was astonishing: within a matter of months more than 3,000 men – and not all of them Chinese either – from this part of the world volunteered, eventually joining tens of thousands of mainland Chinese in plying the 1,153km Yunnan-Burma Road.

According to the researchers, upon arriving in Kunming, the Nanqiao ji gong were sorted into Overseas Transportation Teams and given additional training.

It was these men’s job to ferry fuel, weapons, ammunition and soldiers to various parts of China. In return, the Chinese Government provided food, accommodation and medical support and a monthly salary of between 69 and 74 yuan, which was quite low compared to wages for such jobs in Malaya and Singapore at that time.

A map provided by the Yunnan Province archives dating back to the Sino-Japanese War and showing China’s single tenuous link to the outside world during that conflict.

Certainly, the money could not compensate for the dangers. In Singapore last year, an exhibition about the Nanqiao ji gong that included more than 100 hours of oral histories powerfully showed how the Burma Road was not for the faint-hearted.

The route travelled over two mountain ranges, crossing three rivers and countless gorges over more than 400 bridges; it ran along the edges of cliffs and slopes and there were long stretches with sharp and precarious bends, as the road rose from about 600m to over 2,000m above sea level along its length. And then there were mosquito-infested jungles where deadly malaria was rampant.

Singapore’s Straits Times, in covering that exhibition, quoted some of the oral histories; one interviewee was Tan Chong Tee, 93 last year, who in 1942 joined Force 136, a branch of Britain’s Special Operations Executive, the organisation established to support and supply local resistance in South-East Asia.

Burma Road drivers ferried SOE and Force 136 operatives on their missions. Tan said: “We had a saying that if a truck flipped over on the highway on the first day of the month, it would reach the bottom only on the 15th. It was a very dangerous road. It was not paved and not wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other. The drivers needed to have very good skills.”

Another volunteer quoted, Captain Pek Cheng Chuan, who left Singapore in 1939 when he was 28, described the harsh conditions:

A member of the Kunming Television film crew (left) interviewing a former Nanqiao Ji gong (overseas Chinese mechanic) in Malaysia late last year for the documentary.

“In the three and a half years since we returned to China, we had never entered a room to sleep in quarters; only when we were ill did we sleep in a hospital bed. We had our luggage with us and we slept in our vehicles. There were munitions in the vehicle and we just spread our blankets and slept on them. Frequently, the Japanese airplanes swooped down to machine-gun us....”

But Pek was one of the fortunate ones who managed to return home after the war. He died in Singapore in 2005.

The reality was that by the time the war ended in 1945, about one-third of these volunteers had given their lives in the line of duty; some remained in China to find a living and got married and settled there. Only about 1,200 eventually returned to South-East Asia.

Remembering the Nanqiao ji gong

Last year marked the 70th anniversary of the first batch of volunteers leaving for China from South-East Asia.

And this year, in conjunction with the 65th anniversary of the end of the Sino-Japanese War, Kunming City is financing a documentary to be made by Kunming Television and the Kunming Museum’s historical research committee on the Nanqiao ji gong.

Researcher from China Tang Xiaomei became interested in the volunteers after she discovered her father had been one, and was originally from Penang. – CHOW EE-TAN

“The documentary will feature live interviews with the Chinese volunteers as well as the overseas volunteers who served during the war,” says Tang Xiaomei, the executive vice president of the documentary’s research committee.

“We know most of the volunteers are no longer around today, but we also hope to get in touch with their family members and descendants.

“According to current file information, of the more than 3,000 overseas mechanics from this part of the world, we believe more than 80% of them lived in Malaya,” says Tang.

Tang actually became involved in this research when she discovered that her own father had been an overseas volunteer who had come from Penang. After the war, he settled down in Kunming and married.

Tang and a team comprising the documentary’s director and editor and members of the Kunming Museum’s research committee have, to date, made two trips to Malaysia, when this writer met them.

With the help of local Chinese press and associations, the team managed to actually locate several Burma Road volunteers.

In December, they interviewed a volunteer in Sungai Siput, Perak, another in Malacca and family members and descendents of volunteers from Ipoh and Taiping in Perak, and in Seremban, Penang and Muar in Johor.

In May, the team returned to film interviews with three more living volunteers in Kuching and the small towns of Lundu and Serian in Sarawak.

Tracing non-Chinese volunteers

“One of the purposes of our trips here was to find some of the non-Chinese volunteers from Malaya,” says Tang.

According to Yunnan Province archives, records of the second brigade of Overseas Transportation Teams dated June 30, 1941, showed there were 97 non-Chinese mechanics – among them 55 Indians, 18 Malays, 11 Burmese and two Indonesians.

But if finding overseas Chinese volunteers in Malaysia was difficult, tracing non-Chinese volunteers has been almost impossible, especially as many never registered their full names.

The documentary film’s crew visited a memorial commemorating the Nanqiao ji gong who perished in the war. This memorial is at the Kwong Tong Cemetery, Kuala Lumpur’s oldest Chinese cemetery.

So far, the team has only been able to locate Dara Singh, who registered to serve in China as Wong Ah Leng. He was among the first batch of 20 who left Malaya in March, when he was 25 years old.

Dara Singh, a Sikh who hailed from Taiping, had been adopted by a Chinese family as a child and thus was fluent in Mandarin and Hokkien.

According to Kunming archives, he was appointed to the vanguard of the captain of the 2nd Battalion of the 6th Chinese Squadron and helped to set up its motor transport unit.

He led 134 drivers, of whom 94 were foreign volunteers. Due to his outstanding performance he was eventually awarded the rank of Colonel.

After the war ended, Dara married a Chinese girl and returned to Malaya; he was a teacher in Hua Lian School in Taiping, worked in the Forestry Department and later in the civil service in Seremban.

“We managed to interview his daughter, Dara Wong Yoke Kheng, in Taiping for the documentary last year,” says Tang, adding, “Dara Singh unfortunately had passed away some years back but his story had been published in a Malaysian newspaper a decade ago.”

Tang says that the team found in the archives a resume personally written by Dara Singh saying that he had worked in the Kamunting police station here – “Therefore, it is possible that he helped to recruit other local Indian drivers and mechanics to volunteer as drivers on the Burma Road.”

Records show one such volunteer of Malay origin known only as “Maya Sen”. At 35, he travelled to China in the same batch as Dara Singh and worked predominantly as a driver.

He reportedly worked in the town of Baoshan in Yunnan Province before being transferred back to Kunming for a while before returning to Malaya. The team is still trying to trace his whereabouts and his family.

Deserving of documentation

Meanwhile, Tang says, the documentary has been completed, though the team is continuing to compile historical documents and heritage information for the Kunming Museum.

The 250-minute documentary is divided into five episodes that will be aired over Kunming TV, with the first two episodes set to go next Sunday.

The documentary will cover, among other aspects, the historical background to the recruitment of the volunteers, how they bid farewell to their families and loved ones to answer the call of duty, the hardship of their lives and the sacrifices they made as mechanics and drivers on the Burma Road, their heroic contributions, and the tribute paid to them in retrospect by the people of China.

“As we looked back, we found that the history of the Nanqiao ji gong is not just the history of China or of the overseas Chinese, but of all people in South-East Asia,” says Tang.

“Yes, there may have been the ‘returning to their roots’ factor that moved the overseas Chinese to volunteer, but then we also had others such as Dara Singh and Maya Sen joining in the operations. It proves that at a critical juncture, people here were united by the spirit of comradeship to fight against a war of aggression and safeguard peace and justice.

“I hope that Malaysians of all walks of lives will continue to work together for peace despite being of different colour or race.”

If you have any information on ‘Maya Sen’ or any of the Burma Road volunteers or their families, contact Low Toh Nam at anaktanahair@hotmail.com or 012-521 7412.

The ‘Nanqiao Jigong: The Extraordinary Story of Nanyang Drivers and Mechanics Who Returned to China During the Sino-Japanese War’ exhibition opened in Yunnan, China, in 2009, travelled to Beijing and thence to Singapore in October. It will be available online at a later stage.


ၤFrom... The Burma Road boys (The Star newspaper) Sunday August 8, 2010




If you want to understand today, you have to search yesterday.

Pearl Buck





Blogger Alinsek
9.August.2010





ဆက္လက္ဖက္႐ွဳရန္...

Monday, July 12, 2010

“I am not a politician..I only suffer the consequences”




လူတိုင္း ျငိမ္းခ်မ္းေရး အတြက္ ေအာ္ဟစ္ေနၾကတယ္
တရားမွ်တေရး အတြက္ေတာ့ ေျပာေပးမယ့္သူေတြ မရွိ
လူတိုင္း ရာဇဝတ္မႈ ေတြအေၾကာင္း ေျပာေနၾကတယ္
ရာဇဝတ္ေကာင္ ဘယ္သူေတြဆိုတာ ငါ ကိုေျပာၾကစမ္းပါ....
ျငိမ္းခ်မ္းေရးကို ငါ လည္းလိုလားပါတယ္
ငါ လိုအပ္ေနတာက တန္းတူ အခြင့္အေရး ႏွင့္ တရားမွ်တေရးဘဲ.....


(ပီတာ ေတာ့ ရဲ႕ တန္းတူ အခြင့္အေရး သီခ်င္းမွ)





Everyone is crying out for peace
None is crying out for justice.
Everyone is talking about crime
Tell me who are the criminals
I don't want no peace
I need equal rights and justice.


(Equal Rights by Peter Tosh)





ကၽြန္ေတာ္ဟာ ႏိုင္ငံေရးသမားတစ္ေယာက္ေတာ့မဟုတ္ပါ..ႏိုင္ငံေရးရဲ႕အက်ိဳးဆက္ေတြကိုေတာ့ ခံစားေနရသူတစ္ဦးပါ။

ပီတာ ေတာ့




“I am not a politician..I only suffer the consequences”

Peter Tosh




Blogger Alinsek
12, July, 2010

ဆက္လက္ဖက္႐ွဳရန္...

“I am not a politician..I only suffer the consequences”




လူတိုင္း ျငိမ္းခ်မ္းေရး အတြက္ ေအာ္ဟစ္ေနၾကတယ္
တရားမွ်တေရး အတြက္ေတာ့ ေျပာေပးမယ့္သူေတြ မရွိ
လူတိုင္း ရာဇဝတ္မႈ ေတြအေၾကာင္း ေျပာေနၾကတယ္
ရာဇဝတ္ေကာင္ ဘယ္သူေတြဆိုတာ ငါ ကိုေျပာၾကစမ္းပါ....
ျငိမ္းခ်မ္းေရးကို ငါ လည္းလိုလားပါတယ္
ငါ လိုအပ္ေနတာက တန္းတူ အခြင့္အေရး ႏွင့္ တရားမွ်တေရးဘဲ.....


(ပီတာ ေတာ့ ရဲ႕ တန္းတူ အခြင့္အေရး သီခ်င္းမွ)





Everyone is crying out for peace
None is crying out for justice.
Everyone is talking about crime
Tell me who are the criminals
I don't want no peace
I need equal rights and justice.


(Equal Rights by Peter Tosh)





ကၽြန္ေတာ္ဟာ ႏိုင္ငံေရးသမားတစ္ေယာက္ေတာ့မဟုတ္ပါ..ႏိုင္ငံေရးရဲ႕အက်ိဳးဆက္ေတြကိုေတာ့ ခံစားေနရသူတစ္ဦးပါ။

ပီတာ ေတာ့




“I am not a politician..I only suffer the consequences”

Peter Tosh




Blogger Alinsek
12, July, 2010

ဆက္လက္ဖက္႐ွဳရန္...

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

The Lighthouse Keeper Of AspinWall (Short story)

"On an exhausted field, only weeds grow."

"It has been said that Poland is dead, exhausted, enslaved,
but here is the proof of her life and triumph."

Henryk Sienkiewicz




Title:
The Lighthouse Keeper Of AspinWall

Author: Henryk Sienkiewicz

CHAPTER I

On a time it happened that the light-house keeper in Aspinwall, not far from Panama, disappeared without a trace. Since he disappeared during a storm, it was supposed that the ill-fated man went to the very edge of the small, rocky island on which the light-house stood, and was swept out by a wave. This supposition seemed the more likely as his boat was not found next day in its rocky niche. The place of light-house keeper had become vacant. It was necessary to fill this place at the earliest moment possible, since the light-house had no small significance for the local movement as well as for vessels going from New York to Panama. Mosquito Bay abounds in sandbars and banks. Among these navigation, even in the daytime, is difficult; but at night, especially with the fogs which are so frequent on those waters warmed by the sun of the tropics, it is nearly impossible. The only guide at that time for the numerous vessels is the light-house.

The task of finding a new keeper fell to the United States consul living in Panama, and this task was no small one: first, because it was absolutely necessary to find the man within twelve hours; second, the man must be unusually conscientious,--it was not possible, of course, to take the first comer at random; finally, there was an utter lack of candidates. Life on a tower is uncommonly difficult, and by no means enticing to people of the South, who love idleness and the freedom of a vagrant life. That light-house keeper is almost a prisoner. He cannot leave his rocky island except on Sundays. A boat from Aspinwall brings him provisions and water once a day, and returns immediately; on the whole island, one acre in area, there is no inhabitant. The keeper lives in the light-house; he keeps it in order. During the day he gives signals by displaying flags of various colors to indicate changes of the barometer; in the evening he lights the lantern. This would be no great labor were it not that to reach the lantern at the summit of the tower he must pass over more than four hundred steep and very high steps; sometimes he must make this journey repeatedly during the day. In general, it is the life of a monk, and indeed more than that,--the life of a hermit. It was not wonderful, therefore, that Mr. Isaac Falconbridge was in no small anxiety as to where he should find a permanent successor to the recent keeper; and it is easy to understand his joy when a successor announced himself most unexpectedly on that very day. He was a man already old, seventy years or more, but fresh, erect, with the movements and bearing of a soldier. His hair was perfectly white, his face as dark as that of a Creole; but, judging from his blue eyes, he did not belong to a people of the South. His face was somewhat downcast and sad, but honest. At the first glance he pleased Falconbridge. It remained only to examine him. Therefore the following conversation began:

"Where are you from?"

"I am a Pole."

"Where have you worked up to this time?"

"In one place and another."

"A light-house keeper should like to stay in one place."

"I need rest."

"Have you served? Have you testimonials of honorable government service?"

The old man drew from his bosom a piece of faded silk resembling a strip of an old flag, unwound it, and said:

"Here are the testimonials. I received this cross in 1830. This second one is Spanish from the Carlist War; the third is the French legion; the fourth I received in Hungary. Afterward I fought in the States against the South; there they do not give crosses."

Falconbridge took the paper and began to read.

"H'm! Skavinski? Is that your name? H'm! Two flags captured in a bayonet attack. You were a gallant soldier."

"I am able to be a conscientious light-house keeper."

"It is necessary to ascend the tower a number of times daily. Have you sound legs?"

"I crossed the plains on foot." (The immense steppes between the East and California are called "the plains.")

"Do you know sea service?"

"I served three years on a whaler."

"You have tried various occupations."

"The only one I have not known is quiet."

"Why is that?"

The old man shrugged his shoulders. "Such is my fate."

"Still you seem to me too old for a light-house keeper."

"Sir," exclaimed the candidate suddenly in a voice of emotion, "I am greatly wearied, knocked about. I have passed through much as you see. This place is one of those which I have wished for most ardently. I am old, I need rest. I need to say to myself, 'Here you will remain; this is your port.' Ah, sir, this depends now on you alone. Another time perhaps such a place will not offer itself. What luck that I was in Panama! I entreat you--as God is dear to me, I am like a ship which if it misses the harbor will be lost. If you wish to make an old man happy- -I swear to you that I am honest, but--I have enough of wandering."

The blue eyes of the old man expressed such earnest entreaty that Falconbridge, who had a good, simple heart, was touched.

"Well," said he, "I take you. You are light-house keeper."

The old man's face gleamed with inexpressible joy.

"I thank you."

"Can you go to the tower to-day?"

"I can."

"Then good-bye. Another word,--for any failure in service you will be dismissed."

"All right."

That same evening, when the sun had descended on the other side of the isthmus, and a day of sunshine was followed by a night without twilight, the new keeper was in his place evidently, for the light-house was casting its bright rays on the water as usual. The night was perfectly calm, silent, genuinely tropical, filled with a transparent haze, forming around the moon a great colored rainbow with soft, unbroken edges; the sea was moving only because the tide raised it. Skavinski on the balcony seemed from below like a small black point. He tried to collect his thoughts and take in his new position; but his mind was too much under pressure to move with regularity. He felt somewhat as a hunted beast feels when at last it has found refuge from pursuit on some inaccessible rock or in a cave. There had come to him, finally, an hour of quiet; the feeling of safety filled his soul with a certain unspeakable bliss. Now on that rock he can simply laugh at his previous wanderings, his misfortunes and failures. He was in truth like a ship whose masts, ropes, and sails had been broken and rent by a tempest, and cast from the clouds to the bottom of the sea,--a ship on which the tempest had hurled waves and spat foam, but which still wound its way to the harbor. The pictures of that storm passed quickly through his mind as he compared it with the calm future now beginning. A part of his wonderful adventures he had related to Falconbridge; he had not mentioned, however, thousands of other incidents. It had been his misfortune that as often as he pitched his tent and fixed his fireplace to settle down permanently, some wind tore out the stakes of his tent, whirled away the fire, and bore him on toward destruction. Looking now from the balcony of the tower at the illuminated waves, he remembered everything through which he had passed. He had campaigned in the four parts of the world, and in wandering had tried almost every occupation. Labor-loving and honest, more than once had he earned money, and had always lost it in spite of every prevision and the utmost caution. He had been a gold-miner in Australia, a diamond-digger in Africa, a rifleman in public service in the East Indies. He established a ranch in California,--the drought ruined him; he tried trading with wild tribes in the interior of Brazil,--his raft was wrecked on the Amazon; he himself alone, weaponless, and nearly naked, wandered in the forest for many weeks living on wild fruits, exposed every moment to death from the jaws of wild beasts. He established a forge in Helena, Arkansas, and that was burned in a great fire which consumed the whole town. Next he fell into the hands of Indians in the Rocky Mountains, and only through a miracle was he saved by Canadian trappers. Then he served as a sailor on a vessel running between Bahia and Bordeaux, and as harpooner on a whaling-ship; both vessels were wrecked. He had a cigar factory in Havana, and was robbed by his partner while he himself was lying sick with the vomito. At last he came to Aspinwall, and there was to be the end of his failures,--for what could reach him on that rocky island? Neither water nor fire nor men. But from men Skavinski had not suffered much; he had met good men oftener than bad ones.

But it seemed to him that all the four elements were persecuting him. Those who knew him said that he had no luck, and with that they explained everything. He himself became somewhat of a monomaniac. He believed that some mighty and vengeful hand was pursuing him everywhere, on all lands and waters. He did not like, however, to speak of this; only at times, when some one asked him whose hand that could be, he pointed mysteriously to the Polar Star, and said, "It comes from that place." In reality his failures were so continuous that they were wonderful, and might easily drive a nail into the head, especially of the man who had experienced them. But Skavinski had the patience of an Indian, and that great calm power of resistance which comes from truth of heart. In his time he had received in Hungary a number of bayonet- thrusts because he would not grasp at a stirrup which was shown as means of salvation to him, and cry for quarter. In like manner he did not bend to misfortune. He crept up against the mountain as industriously as an ant. Pushed down a hundred times, he began his journey calmly for the hundred and first time. He was in his way a most peculiar original. This old soldier, tempered, God knows in how many fires, hardened in suffering, hammered and forged, had the heart of a child. In the time of the epidemic in Cuba, the vomito attacked him because he had given to the sick all his quinine, of which he had a considerable supply, and left not a grain to himself.

There had been in him also this wonderful quality,--that after so many disappointments he was ever full of confidence, and did not lose hope that all would be well yet. In winter he grew lively, and predicted great events. He waited for these events with impatience, and lived with the thought of them whole summers. But the winters passed one after another, and Skavinski lived only to this,--that they whitened his head. At last he grew old, began to lose energy; his endurance was becoming more and more like resignation, his former calmness was tending toward supersensitiveness, and that tempered soldier was degenerating into a man ready to shed tears for any cause. Besides this, from time to time he was weighed down by a terrible homesickness which was roused by any circumstance,--the sight of swallows, gray birds like sparrows, snow on the mountains, or melancholy music like that heard on a time. Finally, there was one idea which mastered him,--the idea of rest. It mastered the old man thoroughly, and swallowed all other desires and hopes. This ceaseless wanderer could not imagine anything more to be longed for, anything more precious, than a quiet corner in which to rest, and wait in silence for the end. Perhaps specially because some whim of fate had so hurried him over all seas and lands that he could hardly catch his breath, did he imagine that the highest human happiness was simply not to wander. It is true that such modest happiness was his due; but he was so accustomed to disappointments that he thought of rest as people in general think of something which is beyond reach. He did not dare to hope for it. Meanwhile, unexpectedly, in the course of twelve hours he had gained a position which was as if chosen for him out of all the world. We are not to wonder, then, that when he lighted his lantern in the evening he became as it were dazed,--that he asked himself if that was reality, and he did not dare to answer that it was. But at the same time reality convinced him with incontrovertible proofs; hence hours one after another passed while he was on the balcony. He gazed, and convinced himself. It might seem that he was looking at the sea for the first time in his life. The lens of the lantern cast into the darkness an enormous triangle of light, beyond which the eye of the old man was lost in the black distance completely, in the distance mysterious and awful. But that distance seemed to run toward the light. The long waves following one another rolled out from the darkness, and went bellowing toward the base of the island; and then their foaming backs were visible, shining rose-colored in the light of the lantern. The incoming tide swelled more and more, and covered the sandy bars. The mysterious speech of the ocean came with a fulness more powerful and louder, at one time like the thunder of cannon, at another like the roar of great forests, at another like the distant dull sound of the voices of people. At moments it was quiet; then to the ears of the old man came some great sigh, then a kind of sobbing, and again threatening outbursts. At last the wind bore away the haze, but brought black, broken clouds, which hid the moon. From the west it began to blow more and more; the waves sprang with rage against the rock of the light-house, licking with foam the foundation walls. In the distance a storm was beginning to bellow. On the dark, disturbed expanse certain green lanterns gleamed from the masts of ships. These green points rose high and then sank; now they swayed to the right, and now to the left. Skavinski descended to his room. The storm began to howl. Outside, people on those ships were struggling with night, with darkness, with waves; but inside the tower it was calm and still. Even the sounds of the storm hardly came through the thick walls, and only the measured tick-tack of the clock lulled the wearied old man to his slumber.


CHAPTER II.

Hours, days, and weeks began to pass. Sailors assert that sometimes when the sea is greatly roused, something from out the midst of night and darkness calls them by name. If the infinity of the sea may call out thus, perhaps when a man is growing old, calls come to him, too, from another infinity still darker and more deeply mysterious; and the more he is wearied by life the dearer are those calls to him. But to hear them quiet is needed. Besides old age loves to put itself aside as if with a foreboding of the grave. The light-house had become for Skavinski such a half grave. Nothing is more monotonous than life on a beacon- tower. If young people consent to take up this service they leave it after a time. Light-house keepers are generally men not young, gloomy, and confined to themselves. If by chance one of them leaves his light- house and goes among men, he walks in the midst of them like a person roused from deep slumber. On the tower there is a lack of minute impressions which in ordinary life teach men to adapt themselves to everything. All that a light-house keeper comes in contact with is gigantic, and devoid of definitely outlined forms. The sky is one whole, the water another; and between those two infinities the soul of man is in loneliness. That is a life in which thought is continual meditation, and out of that meditation nothing rouses the keeper, not even his work. Day is like day as two beads in a rosary, unless changes of weather form the only variety. But Skavinski felt more happiness than ever in life before. He rose with the dawn, took his breakfast, polished the lens, and then sitting on the balcony gazed into the distance of the water; and his eyes were never sated with the pictures which he saw before him. On the enormous turquoise ground of the ocean were to be seen generally flocks of swollen sails gleaming in the rays of the sun so brightly that the eyes were blinking before the excess of light. Sometimes the ships, favored by the so-called trade winds, went in an extended line one after another, like a chain of sea-mews or albatrosses. The red casks indicating the channel swayed on the light wave with gentle movement. Among the sails appeared every afternoon gigantic grayish feather-like plumes of smoke. That was a steamer from New York which brought passengers and goods to Aspinwall, drawing behind it a frothy path of foam. On the other side of the balcony Skavinski saw, as if on his palm, Aspinwall and its busy harbor, and in it a forest of masts, boats, and craft; a little farther, white houses and the towers of the town. From the height of his tower the small houses were like the nests of sea- mews, the boats were like beetles, and the people moved around like small points on the white stone boulevard. From early morning a light eastern breeze brought a confused hum of human life, above which predominated the whistle of steamers. In the afternoon six o'clock came; the movement in the harbor began to cease; the mews hid themselves in the rents of the cliffs; the waves grew feeble and became in some sort lazy; and then on the land, on the sea, and on the tower came a time of stillness unbroken by anything. The yellow sands from which the waves had fallen back glittered like golden stripes on the width of the waters; the body of the tower was outlined definitely in blue. Floods of sunbeams were poured from the sky on the water and the sands and the cliff. At that time a certain lassitude full of sweetness seized the old man. He felt that the rest which he was enjoying was excellent; and when he thought that it would be continuous nothing was lacking to him.

Skavinski was intoxicated with his own happiness; and since a man adapts himself easily to improved conditions, he gained faith and confidence by degrees; for he thought that if men built houses for invalids, why should not God gather up at last His own invalids? Time passed, and confirmed him in this conviction. The old man grew accustomed to his tower, to the lantern, to the rock, to the sand-bars, to solitude. He grew accustomed also to the sea-mews which hatched in the crevices of the rock, and in the evening held meetings on the roof of the light- house. Skavinski threw to them generally the remnants of his food; and soon they grew tame, and afterward, when he fed them, a real storm of white wings encircled him, and the old man went among the birds like a shepherd among sheep. When the tide ebbed he went to the low sand-banks, on which he collected savory periwinkles and beautiful pearl shells of the nautilus, which receding waves had left on the sand. In the night by the moonlight and the tower he went to catch fish, which frequented the windings of the cliff in myriads. At last he was in love with his rocks and his treeless little island, grown over only with small thick plants exuding sticky resin. The distant views repaid him for the poverty of the island, however. During afternoon hours, when the air became very clear he could see the whole isthmus covered with the richest vegetation. It seemed to Skavinski at such times that he saw one gigantic garden,--bunches of cocoa, and enormous musa, combined as it were in luxurious tufted bouquets, right there behind the houses of Aspinwall. Farther on, between Aspinwall and Panama, was a great forest over which every morning and evening hung a reddish haze of exhalations,--a real tropical forest with its feet in stagnant water, interlaced with lianas and filled with the sound of one sea of gigantic orchids, palms, milk-trees, iron-trees, gum-trees.

Through his field-glass the old man could see not only trees and the broad leaves of bananas, but even legions of monkeys and great marabous and flocks of parrots, rising at times like a rainbow cloud over the forest. Skavinski knew such forests well, for after being wrecked on the Amazon he had wandered whole weeks among similar arches and thickets. He had seen how many dangers and deaths lie concealed under those wonderful and smiling exteriors. During the nights which he had spent in them he heard close at hand the sepulchral voices of howling monkeys and the roaring of the jaguars; he saw gigantic serpents coiled like lianas on trees; he knew those slumbering forest lakes full of torpedo-fish and swarming with crocodiles; he knew under what a yoke man lives in those unexplored wildernesses in which are single leaves that exceed a man's size ten times,--wildernesses swarming with blood-drinking mosquitoes, tree-leeches, and gigantic poisonous spiders. He had experienced that forest life himself, had witnessed it, had passed through it; therefore it gave him the greater enjoyment to look from his height and gaze on those matos, admire their beauty, and be guarded from their treacherousness. His tower preserved him from every evil. He left it only for a few hours on Sunday. He put on then his blue keeper's coat with silver buttons, and hung his crosses on his breast. His milk-white head was raised with a certain pride when he heard at the door, while entering the church, the Creoles say among themselves, "We have an honorable light-house keeper and not a heretic, though he is a Yankee." But he returned straightway after Mass to his island, and returned happy, for he had still no faith in the mainland. On Sunday also he read the Spanish newspaper which he brought in the town, or the New York Herald, which he borrowed from Falconbridge; and he sought in it European news eagerly. The poor old heart on that light-house tower, and in another hemisphere, was beating yet for its birthplace. At times too, when the boat brought his daily supplies and water to the island, he went down from the tower to talk with Johnson, the guard. But after a while he seemed to grow shy. He ceased to go to the town to read the papers and to go down to talk politics with Johnson. Whole weeks passed in this way, so that no one saw him and he saw no one. The only signs that the old man was living were the disappearance of the provisions left on shore, and the light of the lantern kindled every evening with the same regularity with which the sun rose in the morning from the waters of those regions. Evidently, the old man had become indifferent to the world. Homesickness was not the cause, but just this,--that even homesickness had passed into resignation. The whole world began now and ended for Skavinski on his island. He had grown accustomed to the thought that he would not leave the tower till his death, and he simply forgot that there was anything else besides it. Moreover, he had become a mystic; his mild blue eyes began to stare like the eyes of a child, and were as if fixed on something at a distance. In presence of a surrounding uncommonly simple and great, the old man was losing the feeling of personality; he was ceasing to exist as an individual, was becoming merged more and more in that which inclosed him. He did not understand anything beyond his environment; he felt only unconsciously. At last it seems to him that the heavens, the water, his rock, the tower, the golden sand-banks, and the swollen sails, the sea-mews, the ebb and flow of the tide,--all form a mighty unity, one enormous mysterious soul; that he is sinking in that mystery, and feels that soul which lives and lulls itself. He sinks and is rocked, forgets himself; and in that narrowing of his own individual existence, in that half- waking, half-sleeping, he has discovered a rest so great that it nearly resembles half-death.


CHAPTER III.

But the awakening came.

On a certain day, when the boat brought water and a supply of provisions, Skavinski came down an hour later from the tower, and saw that besides the usual cargo there was an additional package. On the outside of this package were postage stamps of the United States, and the address: "Skavinski, Esq.," written on coarse canvas.

The old man, with aroused curiosity, cut the canvas, and saw books; he took one in his hand, looked at it, and put it back; thereupon his hands began to tremble greatly. He covered his eyes as if he did not believe them; it seemed to him as if he were dreaming. The book was Polish,-- what did that mean? Who could have sent the book? Clearly, it did not occur to him at the first moment that in the beginning of his light- house career he had read in the Herald, borrowed from the consul, of the formation of a Polish society in New York, and had sent at once to that society half his month's salary, for which he had, moreover, no use on the tower. The society had sent him the books with thanks. The books came in the natural way; but at the first moment the old man could not seize those thoughts. Polish books in Aspinwall, on his tower, amid his solitude,--that was for him something uncommon, a certain breath from past times, a kind of miracle. Now it seemed to him, as to those sailors in the night, that something was calling him by name with a voice greatly beloved and nearly forgotten. He sat for a while with closed eyes, and was almost certain that, when he opened them, the dream would be gone.

The package, cut open, lay before him, shone upon clearly by the afternoon sun, and on it was an open book. When the old man stretched his hand toward it again, he heard in the stillness the beating of his own heart. He looked; it was poetry. On the outside stood printed in great letters the title, underneath the name of the author. The name was not strange to Skavinski; he saw that it belonged to the great poet, [Footnote: Mickiewicz (pronounced Mitskyevich), the greatest poet of Poland.] whose productions he had read in 1830 in Paris. Afterward, when campaigning in Algiers and Spain, he had heard from his countrymen of the growing fame of the great seer; but he was so accustomed to the musket at that time that he took no book in hand. In 1849 he went to America, and in the adventurous life which he led he hardly ever met a Pole, and never a Polish book. With the greater eagerness, therefore, and with a livelier beating of the heart, did he turn to the title-page. It seemed to him then that on his lonely rock some solemnity is about to take place. Indeed it was a moment of great calm and silence. The clocks of Aspinwall were striking five in the afternoon. Not a cloud darkened the clear sky; only a few sea-mews were sailing through the air. The ocean was as if cradled to sleep. The waves on the shore stammered quietly, spreading softly on the sand. In the distance the white houses of Aspinwall, and the wonderful groups of palm, were smiling. In truth, there was something there solemn, calm, and full of dignity. Suddenly, in the midst of that calm of Nature, was heard the trembling voice of the old man, who read aloud as if to understand himself better:

"Thou art like health, O my birth-land Litva!
[Footnote: Lithuania.]
How much we should prize thee he only can know who has lost thee.
Thy beauty in perfect adornment this day
I see and describe, because I am yearning for thee."

His voice failed Skavinski. The letters began to dance before his eyes; something broke in his breast, and went like a wave from his heart higher and higher, choking his voice and pressing his throat. A moment more he controlled himself, and read further:

"O Holy Lady, who guardest bright Chenstohova,
Who shinest in Ostrobrama and preservest
The castle town Novgrodek with its trusty people,
As Thou didst give me back to health in childhood,
When by my weeping mother placed beneath Thy care
I raised my lifeless eyelids upward,
And straightway walked unto Thy holy threshold,
To thank God for the life restored me,--
So by a wonder now restore us to the bosom of our birthplace."

The swollen wave broke through the restraint of his will. The old man sobbed, and threw himself on the ground; his milk-white hair was mingled with the sand of the sea. Forty years had passed since he had seen his country, and God knows how many since he heard his native speech; and now that speech had come to him itself,--it had sailed to him over the ocean, and found him in solitude on another hemisphere,--it so loved, so dear, so beautiful! In the sobbing which shook him there was no pain,-- only a suddenly aroused immense love, in the presence of which other things are as nothing. With that great weeping he had simply implored forgiveness of that beloved one, set aside because he had grown so old, had become so accustomed to his solitary rock, and had so forgotten it that in him even longing had begun to disappear. But now it returned as if by a miracle; therefore the heart leaped in him.

Moments vanished one after another; he lay there continually. The mews flew over the light-house, crying as if alarmed for their old friend. The hour in which he fed them with the remnants of his food had come; therefore, some of them flew down from the light-house to him; then more and more came, and began to pick and to shake their wings over his head. The sound of the wings roused him. He had wept his fill, and had now a certain calm and brightness; but his eyes were as if inspired. He gave unwittingly all his provisions to the birds, which rushed at him with an uproar, and he himself took the book again. The sun had gone already behind the gardens and the forest of Panama, and was going slowly beyond the isthmus to the other ocean; but the Atlantic was full of light yet; in the open air there was still perfect vision; therefore, he read further:

"Now bear my longing soul to those forest slopes, to those green meadows."

At last the dusk obliterates the letters on the white paper,--the dusk short as a twinkle. The old man rested his head on the rock, and closed his eyes. Then "She who defends bright Chenstohova" took his soul, and transported it to "those fields colored by various grain." On the sky were burning yet those long stripes, red and golden, and on those brightnesses he was flying to beloved regions. The pine-woods were sounding in his ears; the streams of his native place were murmuring. He saw everything as it was; everything asked him, "Dost remember?" He remembers! he sees broad fields; between the fields, woods and villages. It is night now. At this hour his lantern usually illuminates the darkness of the sea; but now he is in his native village. His old head has dropped on his breast, and he is dreaming. Pictures are passing before his eyes quickly, and a little disorderly. He does not see the house in which he was born, for war had destroyed it; he does not see his father and mother, for they died when he was a child; but still the village is as if he had left it yesterday,--the line of cottages with lights in the windows, the mound, the mill, the two ponds opposite each other, and thundering all night with a chorus of frogs. Once he had been on guard in that village all night; now that past stood before him at once in a series of views. He is an Ulan again, and he stands there on guard; at a distance is the public-house; he looks with swimming eyes. There is thundering and singing and shouting amid the silence of the night with voices of fiddles and bass-viols "U-ha! U-ha!" Then the Ulans knock out fire with their horseshoes, and it is wearisome for him there on his horse. The hours drag on slowly; at last the lights are quenched; now as far as the eye reaches there is mist, and mist impenetrable; now the fog rises, evidently from the fields, and embraces the whole world with a whitish cloud. You would say, a complete ocean. But that is fields; soon the land-rail will be heard in the darkness, and the bitterns will call from the reeds. The night is calm and cool,--in truth, a Polish night! In the distance the pine-wood is sounding without wind, like the roll of the sea. Soon dawn will whiten the East. In fact, the cocks are beginning to crow behind the hedges. One answers to another from cottage to cottage; the storks are screaming somewhere on high. The Ulan feels well and bright. Some one had spoken of a battle to-morrow. Hei! that will go on, like all the others, with shouting, with fluttering of flaglets. The young blood is playing like a trumpet, though the night cools it. But it is dawning. Already night is growing pale; out of the shadows come forests, the thicket, a row of cottages, the mill, the poplars. The well is squeaking like a metal banner on a tower. What a beloved land, beautiful in the rosy gleams of the morning! Oh, the one land, the one land!

Quiet! the watchful picket hears that some one is approaching. Of course, they are coming to relieve the guard.

Suddenly some voice is heard above Skavinski,--

"Here, old man! Get up! What's the matter?"

The old man opens his eyes, and looks with wonder at the person standing before him. The remnants of the dream-visions struggle in his head with reality. At last the visions pale and vanish. Before him stands Johnson, the harbor guide.

"What's this?" asked Johnson; "are you sick?"

"No."

"You didn't light the lantern. You must leave your place. A vessel from St. Geromo was wrecked on the bar. It is lucky that no one was drowned, or you would go to trial. Get into the boat with me; you'll hear the rest at the Consulate."

The old man grew pale; in fact he had not lighted the lantern that night.

A few days later, Skavinski was seen on the deck of a steamer, which was going from Aspinwall to New York. The poor man had lost his place. There opened before him new roads of wandering; the wind had torn that leaf away again to whirl it over lands and seas, to sport with it till satisfied. The old man had failed greatly during those few days, and was bent over; only his eyes were gleaming. On his new road of life he held at his breast his book, which from time to time he pressed with his hand as if in fear that that too might go from him.

-THE END-
Henryk Sienkiewicz's short story: The Lighthouse Keeper Of AspinWall


"Inside my empty bottle I was constructing a lighthouse

while all the others were making ships."


Blogger Alinsek

7. July.2010

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