Day Two. Friday, 9 April 2016

People will not look forward to posterity, who never look backward to their ancestors.

Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

Irish political philosopher

Heho, where our plane Air KBZ, touches down at 09:00 used to be “Haiwo” which means a district assigned to present cows to the ruling prince of Yawnghwe as tributes. Nowadays, even Shans, let alone non-Shans, know little or not what it means.

However, there are still many places in Shan Shate, whose names begin with “Hai” (tribute):

Hai Nang: assigned to present women to serve princesses

Hai Niang: assigned to present tea

Hai Pa: assigned to present fish

Hai Phak: assigned to present meat

Hai Kerh: assigned to present salt

Hai Ya: assigned to present tobacco

The first thing we do after lunch is to visit the Cantonese cemetery which is located southwest of The city. There we find the last resting-place of our paternal grandfather Wu Guangxuo, 1885-1983, better known as A Ping Kung to his neighbors.

According to the papers in English he had kept, he came from Canton aka Guangdong in 1909, got married to our paternal grandmother Nang Hseng Gam and had 5 sons, from whom some 200 offspring have descended in successive generations.

Actually, Ching Ming, or Ancestor’s Day, for this year was already past, 5 April. But had my nieces who are the organizers decided on that day, only a few of us would be able to make it. But thanks to these nieces who live in Taunggyi, some 80 have already confirmed their participation.

The problem with us is that most of us, brought up as Shans, have little inkling about the Chinese ritual. But we are lucky to have Sai Win Aung, 58, my youngest brother, who is the only one among us to be know at home with Chinese customs, presides over the brief ceremony.

We then visit the hotel, Royal Taunggyi, one that was reportedly opened only 4 months ago, where the gathering is to take place tomorrow. It is said to be owned by one of the former ministers of Shan State government, together with two others from Rangoon. Their names are not mentioned. The hotel clerk is obviously feeling uncomfortable about it.

But I just know I’m going to find out sooner or later. And no one should be unduly worried, because the hunting season, since 2011, when the peace process began, is over for me. Well, almost. It’s hard to get rid of one’s habit, isn’t it?