Dagon Shwe Yar - Wax Museum Strange and Starry Short Stories

Wax museum

In 1937, after passing the (7th) grade examination in a rural township, I came to Yangon to look for work. I met a certain U Pyin Sin on the train, and I stayed at the Thayet Taw monastery where U Pyin Sin lived, and I looked for work in the city. Yangon was a very busy city, full of clerks and government officials, but it was only after doing some research that I realized that it was difficult for a poor lower class person like me who had only passed the (7th) grade to find work. Moreover, I realized that even a job as a municipal sweeper was impossible without connections.

Whenever I saw a crowd, I would go and listen to them, hoping to get some information about finding a job. But I only found disappointments. One morning, as I was walking along the waterfront, I saw about twenty or thirty people gathered in front of a building, some on benches, some near betel nut shops, and some under the shade of a tree, talking in pairs of three or four. So I went and listened to the group of people gathered under the shade of a tree.

(One) "How many are there in total, Ko Kyin Maung? I heard it's over 250."

(Kyin) “You didn’t even mention it, it’s only a little less than 300, I have no hope, I even want to go home.”

(Other person) “There are four or five people who have passed the tenth grade. I heard.”

(First person) " Yes, of course."

(Kyin) "So what can you expect from us 7th graders?"

(First) "Even though it's milk, there's still luck."

(Kin) "Luck is free, my friend. If you pass the tenth grade and get a scholarship, you'll definitely win." (First person) "Yes, that scholarship is important."

"We are struggling because we don't have any money. Why do you think Maung Pyone didn't pass the Hara class and got a job at Rowe's?"

(Another person) Tell me why.

(First person) "His brother has been working as a cook for Paul for a long time. ' So he's going to have to make his brother a clerk."

I left that place, went into a betel nut shop, bought a cigarette, and overheard two people standing nearby talking.

The two men also said that they didn't think they would get the job they applied for, that there were two or three tenth-grade graduates among the applicants, so they thought they would be hired from among them, that the job was a low-level clerical job, but now tenth-grade graduates are applying, so one of them said that he was disappointed, and the other said, "I am patiently supporting these words."

I didn't notice which office or building it was in. It seemed that these young men were the applicants for the job advertisement that required two juniors. According to them, the qualifications were only for those who had passed the 10th grade, but they were complaining that only 3-4 people who had passed the 10th grade applied. How could a stranger like me, who had just arrived, get a job? I left the place in a state of great disappointment.

It has been about ten years since I arrived in Yangon , and the little things in my bag are starting to disappear. Every now and then, U Pyin Sing insists on having breakfast at school. However, I never eat breakfast at school, but buy it at the cheapest street stalls. I have two cars, and I even spare one, so I walk a lot. I only take buses for very long journeys.

Time passed slowly, and a month had passed. But I still hadn't found a job. Once, I heard that a ticket checker was needed at a movie theater to check tickets in the five-minute slot at the nightly event, so I applied. The next day, I learned that a 7th grader from Myokhap had been hired, so I returned to the monastery with sadness. Thus, my life cycle had been in Yangon for more than a month.

One morning, at about 9 o'clock, I left Queen's Park (now Bandula Park) and walked east along Merchant Street. I saw a large building with many people entering and exiting. I stopped and watched. The audience entering and exiting the building was mostly white European men and women, with a few Chinese and Burmese. Those entering the building bought tickets from a "counter" in front of the building. When I approached the gate, I was told that you had to buy a ticket to enter, and if you didn't have one, you had to buy one. Then I saw a sign in English at the entrance of the building that said "Wax House". I had never seen such a sign in Yangon before, so it seemed strange to me, so I wanted to go in and pay for it and went inside.

Inside, a large hall with stone slabs measuring 60 feet long and 30 feet wide was brightly lit by flashlights. Under the flashlights, various beautifully sculpted wax figures were displayed on shelves and benches. There were about five large glass cases in which various wax figures were displayed. In a corner of the room, a beautiful woman of about 30 years old, with full figure, was seen frequently getting up and explaining the details of the figures to the onlookers.

I shuffled around with the others, moving from one place to another, looking at the puppets. The puppets were Burmese kings, ministers, generals, soldiers, military officers, military commanders, military guards, soldiers, musical figures, princes and princesses, the prime minister, the "monster" figure, the "Toneya" figure, the elephant, the horse, the tiger, the deer, and a few other animal figures. There were barriers in front of the puppets, on the benches, and on the benches, so that they could not be touched with their hands, and there were also signs posted everywhere asking people not to touch them.

In addition, red ink signs saying "No Smoking" were hung everywhere. The dolls were actually 18 feet (24 feet) by 30 feet (6 feet) tall, and if buyers wanted to buy them, they would have to hang a "label" on each doll, stating the price.

`` I was looking around at the puppets and saw that there were very few Burmese and Black people in the audience.

The figures are made of very fine wax, and the carvings are very beautiful. However, one thing to note is that the figures are sculpted with more care for beauty than for naturalness, with the folds and clothes - all carefully decorated with various colors. Therefore, I think that the figures are not imported from abroad, but rather Burmese-made.

I was also looking at a statue of a Burmese prince, prominently displayed on a high pedestal decorated with flowers, in the middle of the room. The statue was about 25 feet high, and the background was a tree, and the prince-like figure was tied to the tree with ropes. The head of the statue was covered with green leaves, and below it were carved figures of burning logs.

While I was looking at the doll, a white-faced girl and a large soldier were also looking at the doll with interest near me.

Meanwhile, the young woman sitting at the table approached us and began to talk to the European girl, who was looking at the doll with interest, about the clothes the doll was wearing and the history of the doll. I listened intently for a moment. The young woman from the shop explained the following to the English child.

“Yes, sir, our dolls are not made in Myanmar. The workmanship is not as good as yours from abroad.”

“Mr. Nu, your craftsmanship is not bad. For our foreign-made dolls, the mold is first carefully cast and then 100,000 to 200,000 dolls are made at once. So it’s good and fast. Since these dolls are made by hand, your craftsmanship is not bad. I commend you.”

"I'm glad to hear that."

"What teacher can do better than this?"

"From Mandalay"

“I think they are Burmese-made dolls. They have a lot of wrinkles. I don’t know if it’s because I lived in Burma for a long time. I really like the variety of colors and the variety of patterns.”

"I'll tell you a little about this prince's history."

"Yes, just say it."

(After moving slightly towards another figure)

"What kind of big animal is that?"

"It's called Toneya"

"Is it a ton of yarn? Are there a lot of twists and turns?" "Of course."

"Is it real? I've never heard of it. It's not even in the world history books."

"I don't know either. They say it's in history."

The English boy returned to the prince, who was tied to a tree with ropes, and said:

"Now, tell me the story of this prince, I will listen. Why is he tied to a tree? The neck is down. I think he was burned by fire because he was carrying firewood. The doll is quite a variety."

“Yes, of course, he is called Panba Maung Tint. He is a very prominent prince in our Burmese history.”

"Tell me, I really want to listen to history. I studied history well when I was in school. It's not like I didn't breastfeed. We only studied English history."

“Let me start by saying that in the year 888 of our Buddhist calendar, a Sanka tree that had been floating from Tagaung in Upper Burma arrived in Bagan and was placed in a river bend. So, in Bagan, a king named Soe Moe ruled. So, the two gods who came with the tree went to the king and told him about the two gods who were relying on this tree. So, the king believed in it and planted the tree again and built shrines for them and worshipped them.”

"A spirit is a word that comes from the root, right?"

"Yes, of course, people become spirits after they die."

"Why did they die? Tell me the beginning."

“Well, history has a connection with India. They are descendants of those who fled from India. At that time, there was a blacksmith named U Tintaw in Tagaung. This blacksmith was appointed by the king as a blacksmith. He had a son and two daughters. The son’s name was Maung Tint. Maung Tint was very strong and could even kill an elephant. He used to hold two hammers in his left and right hands and hit them with his hammer. The sound of his hammer could be heard by the king. It is said that the hammer he held on the right weighed 50 pounds and the hammer he held on the left weighed 25 pounds. The king was very frightened every time he heard the sound of his hammer and wanted to capture this animal. He thought that it would take his throne. Not only that, but the king also made his sister, Myat Hla, queen. He asked his sister to give Maung Tint the position of city governor. So When Maung Tint Ta arrived, as the king had planned, he was surrounded by a crowd of people, tied to a tree, and burned to death. His sister, seeing her brother Maung Tint Ta being killed, jumped into the pyre and both of them died, saying that they were divine siblings.

"That's a very interesting story. Whether I believe it or not, the story you told about this doll is a tragic one."

“Of course.

"Do you believe these things?"

"I don't believe it, sir. I'm just saying that we heard it from our ancestors. Do you believe it?"

“I don’t believe it. We believe only through visual inspection or through scientific testing. We, like the Burmese, never believe in witches, spirits, ghosts, or ghosts. So, isn’t the price of the letter drawn on the image of a spirit worth 150 baht?”

"Not much, sir. Do you want it?"

"I don't want to, I'm just asking to find out."

"It's better not to take it"

"Why, huh?"

"This doll can catch fire if you keep it at home. We don't want to keep it in a museum. My uncle said he doesn't trust it, so I don't want to keep it. I want to sell it quickly for a good price."