Beautiful - beautiful, beautiful

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[1]

As I have gone through many phases of my life, the most memorable moments are the happiest and the most miserable. Like many others, the author has also had good and bad times along his journey.

The parts that I still remember well are also the same. Therefore, I want to write about the life of a boat captain during the Japanese era, which I still remember well.

“About six months after the Japanese arrived in Burma, the writer was feeling quite unhappy with the life he was living. Because he had to continue his law studies, which he had just started,

I haven't had the chance to hear it yet, and the courses haven't started yet. I'm still living at home with my parents, and I haven't had any work, and my first daughter has already grown up. So the author is looking for a way out. Fortunately, a way out has appeared. That is, an uncle from my wife's side has come to help me sell rice by boat to the upper reaches.

My parents-in-law were farmers, and there was a big barn full of rice in the back yard. There was hardly anyone to buy the rice, so they lived on money. So the writer and his uncle had an opportunity to go up the river by boat.

"Good boy, it's been a while since you last saw your mother, hasn't it?"

My parents-in-law are giving me advice. That's right. The author hasn't seen his mother for a long time since he fled from Rangoon and returned to his wife's house in the countryside. So, he had to arrange to go on his uncle's rice boat so that he could do some trading and see his mother.

I plan and plan. The author is very afraid of water. This is because he was not allowed to swim when he was young. His mother was too worried and did not let him swim. The author himself once witnessed a friend almost drowning in a stream, so he was afraid of water. Therefore, he avoids water as much as possible. Only when he is really scared, he takes a boat. When he returns from college to his parents' house, he often rides a double-decker boat called a sarawak ferry in the river and crosses from one side of the river to the other.

Once, during the height of summer, when the river was very narrow and the sand was very thick, we had to cross the Irrawaddy River due to a major incident that would have happened if we had not gone there. As soon as we reached the other side of the river, we got off the boat and

I once walked about five miles along the beach to get to where I wanted to go. On the way back, I didn't take a boat, but instead took a ferry.

Again, in the pre-war era, a swimming pool was built at the university. That pool was the safest and best opportunity for people like me who were afraid of water to learn to swim. Once, my friends invited me to go to that pool. However, I only learned to swim once in the shallow end of the pool by holding the edge of the pool and never went again. Inya Lake was also a place where I got up early in the morning and walked around the pool. While others joined swimming clubs and rowing clubs, I stayed in the gymnasium, doing weights and squats, and keeping fit.

Also, at that time, I couldn't afford sports. For two reasons, I was far from swimming. For example, the entry fee for the rowing club was 16 kyats. In addition, the rowing uniform, blazer, and team badge cost at least four to fifty kyats. Tennis also cost a lot of money, including a bat, ball, and uniform. The entry fee was about five to ten kyats. I don't remember.

For these reasons, the writer, who was not familiar with sea travel, was unemployed, so he had to travel up the Irrawaddy River from Myaung City, fearing to see his mother, and on the other hand, he had to board his uncle's boat, even though he was afraid.

The time was the Waso Wakhaung, and the river was in full flow. At this time, the south wind blew regularly, so it was a good time for those who wanted to go up. Because the south wind was good, they traveled a lot. The author was afraid of the high water. He was also afraid of the strong wind. Therefore, he was afraid of the boat, and he was afraid of the strong wind.

I was still holding my nerve. But when I passed the Thotbo and reached Akaukdaung, I completely relaxed. I decided to first climb the hill where I would land and then walk to my mother's town.

If you call the author a coward, you will be right. Being a seafarer, I am afraid, but it is true. The boat we were riding in sank even after carrying about thirty bags of rice. It was barely above the water. When a strong wind hit the sail and the boat tilted, the boat tilted to one side, and the water rose on the side of the boat. So, how can a person who is far from the sea not be afraid?

Moreover, the boat was small and the cargo was heavy. There were five people on board, including three rowers. The food was the usual fare of the boat, consisting of lentils and sauce. How could a college graduate who had never been on land be able to survive on such a small boat? Others, because of the fresh air and the shade of the water, ate lentils and rice as if they were stepping on them. But the author could not even finish half of his plate. Therefore, even his uncle began to think very little. Moreover, since the boat was small and the cargo was small, the author's boat was only able to sail at night in the moonlight.

It was good, but I didn’t dare to go. When it was already four in the evening, I had to find a place to stop and sleep. It was a great pleasure to see the famous “Golden Owl” and other big boats sailing all night long, with their sails raised in the moonlight, and the rudders playing. Looking at those big boats, the writer couldn’t sit still because he wanted to sail at night. However, his uncle didn’t allow him to sail at night. He was afraid of the writer. The next stop was Kyaiktae Port. To reach that port, we had to cross the Ayeyarwady River twice and sail according to the wind. The water was only about a mile wide. The current was strong and the wind was strong. Therefore, when we reached the port of Kyithe, we had to cross the wide river twice. The writer could not bear it anymore and told his uncle that he would not take the boat anymore. The uncle said, "Okay... We will sleep at the port of Myoma tonight. In the morning, you will go to the city where your mother lives by land. I will continue to the upper reaches. So, if you want to go back, go back. When I come back from the upper reaches, I will go to your house and investigate, If you are still alive, come back with my boat.” The writer was as happy as if he had won the lottery. So he slept on the boat that night, and the next morning, when U Le’s boat left, he went ashore and walked to the city where his mother was. Luckily, he rode a cart to the village of Shwe Nat Taung Pagoda, at the foot of the Shwe Nat Taung, and from there he rode another cart to his mother. When he arrived in the city, the city was in great damage because of the fighting. He found his mother had moved to another neighborhood.

After living with his mother for a month and nine weeks, he returned to his mother-in-law's village by boat. He was once again unemployed.

There was no work. Sometimes I just helped my in-laws with their work as much as I could. By this time, I had become quite accustomed to the Japanese, so my parents bought me a big boat. This boat was different from my uncle's boat. It was a big boat that held about two hundred bags of rice. It was manned by six rowers and one helmsman. It was big and spacious. The roof was big enough for the author and his two brothers to sleep comfortably, so we had a very comfortable life.

When we went to trade in this boat, we were not as afraid as we were in my uncle's boat. Because even before the rice was loaded, the boat had been tied with large bamboo poles on either side. Even after the boat was fully loaded, the boat was still about ten inches above the water, barely touching the water. In addition, this time, our brothers had two iron oil drums that had been welded together to make it airtight. The iron drums were tied with ropes. It was a kind of emergency buoy. If something happened, we would each hold the iron oil drums with ropes and float them to the shore until we reached the shore. In addition, there were two short bamboo poles tied to the side of the boat. In case of emergency, if we cut the ropes that were tied to the bamboo poles with a knife and tied them together, it would still be possible. Because of these arrangements, the writer was quite brave enough to go on the boat this time. Moreover, his brother who was going with him was not a good swimmer. So, the thought, “If he dares to go, why shouldn’t I?” was also helping him in a way. Especially because he relied on the inflatable boxes and buoys that were easily placed in the boat.

Only when you are brave can you become truly fearsome. Because -

The author's boat passed the Myan Aung and Kan Khin ports and gradually reached the mouth of the Aok Taung River. The current was terrifying. The water flowed around the foot of the mountain and flowed like a wave. The wind was very good and strong, so the boat was moving slowly. The wind and sail were barely able to overcome the force of the water and the load. The author stood between the two masts and watched the trees on the road, watching the leaves of the trees and knowing the boat's movement. The chief helmsman was holding the boat against the current and was ordering a boatman from the helmsman's seat to tighten the sails. A large boat named Kyaw Aung Chantha was moving slowly with the water flowing freely. It was a sight that was as exciting as it was difficult to control his own boat. The wind was strong, and the boat went forward. If the wind weakened a little, the boat went backward. "I think it was a long time, and it was stuck for more than an hour. The writers were very happy. The chief of the boat said, "If you pass this small water hole, you will all be drowned. Don't worry, when you get ahead, the water hole will be empty. This place is called Akaung Taung Water Hole. It was a place where boats and ships were loaded with cargo during the reign of the Burmese king. When the water was strong, the boats and ships could not go any further. They had to stop at Akaung Taung. When they stopped, the cargo was inspected by the customs officers, which is why Akaung Taung Port is also called "the place where cargo is unloaded.""