Day Four. Saturday, 1 April 2016
Preventing war is the work of the politicians.
Establishing peace is the work of educationists.
Maria Montessori (1870-1952), Italian physician and educator
At 06:00, I’m driven to the airport by a driver from the guesthouse. As the plane for Kuala Lumpur is at 08:35, I spend my time reading Popski’s Private Army, memoirs about an independent fighting unit established by the British Army during World WarⅡ.
At KL, where I arrive at 09:30, it is another 4 hours wait, which, if I didn’t have a book to read, would have been a brutal torture.
On the plane, I find myself jammed between a young Thai from Phrae, who graciously offers me his cup of drinking water when he hears me ordering a bottle of water from the hostess, and another Thai, who’s my age and is of Chinese descent.
He asks me where I’m from. Upon learning I’m from Burma, he begins to reminisce about the good old days, when ‘Zhang Laoban’ (meaning Khun Sa) was having the time of his life.
Then, inevitably, we come to the latest event in Burma: The transfer of power to Aung San Suu Kyi’s colleague, U Htin Kyaw, as President in Naypyitaw two days earlier.
“So Aung San (meaning Aung San Suu Kyi, as to most Thais, Suu
Kyi seems to be a surname) wants to be Chusi Thai-hao, isn’t she?,” he comments.
Chusi Thai-hao is the Thai pronunciation of Cixi Taihou (Empress Dowager, 1835-1908), who was the real power behind the throne for 47 years in China.
“Please mark my words. This formula won’t work for her,” he tells me. “For one thing, Chusi Taihao was still young and energetic when she became Empress Dowager. But Aung San is even older than you or me now. For another, she will have to share the same throne with the military. And the throne doesn’t appear to be big enough for two.”
I’m still wondering about what he’s telling me, when the plane lands on the tarmac of Chiangmai airport.
