Putao, Kachin State, Burma: November 18, 2001: As our time in old Burma came to an end, I was actually beginning to enjoy my early morning bath in the steamy little bathhouse with the wooden floor, open gable ends, and cauldrons of hot, refreshing water in a cauldron, ready for me to dip out and pour over my weary body. I was also beginning to enjoy standing around the early morning bonfire near the outdoor kitchen with a hot cup of Burmese tea, getting dry and warm after my bath.
If I should ever disappear, you might come looking for me in the pristine high-mountain jungles of Burma. With my tall stature, Scotch-Irish red hair, and light skin color, I wouldn’t be hard to find, but my spirit would, no doubt, blend in remarkably well.
We would be leaving Putao on Sunday for our return trip to Myitkyina and then on to Rangoon. For our last big meal together, Phe Ram had sent two of his trusted men into the Himalayan Mountains to an area where the wildlife is plentiful. He gave them explicit instructions to shoot a large elk-like animal and return with the meat for our Sunday meal.
The hunting area is quite a distance from Phe Ram’s home. The trip requires one long day’s journey by bicycle, and then the men need to camp overnight and walk another day to reach the area where they hunt the game. Counting on the fact that two very experienced hunters would be successful in bagging the game, they would still have to clean and butcher it before walking back to where they had left their bicycles and then riding another full day to Phe Ram’s home, where Chin Le Doo would oversee the preparations of the trophy meat.
Just a couple of hours after the trusted hunters returned to the village with the meat, we gathered for our farewell meal. I could see Phe Ram breathe a sigh of relief as the men came riding through the wooden gates. I was so very impressed on this trip with how much the Burmese people did to please us and be good hosts and hostesses for their guests.
I had to discreetly leave behind many of the gifts that the village leaders and residents gave me, including bottles of cliff honey, woven baskets, bamboo walking sticks, and hand-woven linens. There just wasn’t enough room to pack them all for the journey out.
When Daniel, Ma Lay, and I left Putao and finally arrived in Myitkyina, Daniel’s sister was at the airport with some of her friends to meet us. They knew that the airplane, which we would be taking back to Rangoon, stopped in Myitkyina before flying on to Mandalay and then back to Myitkyina. She had brought to the airport hot tea and little sweet cakes and suggested we get off the airplane, have tea with her while the plane flew to Mandalay and back. Then we could reboard and fly on to Rangoon. What a brilliant and thoughtful suggestion.
As we flew back to Rangoon, I looked out the window and noted all the footprints of British civilization that are still observable in Myanmar. I realize that what I’m going to write here is politically incorrect. I know that our global culture is presently all caught up in victimization and revisionist theories. But the more I travel around the world in countries like Myanmar, India, the United States, and the checkerboard countries of Africa, the more impressed I’ve become with the impact and influence the little island country of England had on the world in such a relatively short period of time.
It’s quite popular now to bad-mouth Queen Victoria and Albert and the British Commonwealth, but if you were to go back today and note the cultural and economic advantages of the British Empire that still act as positive influences in those colonized countries, I’m sure you would agree that it is nothing short of amazing. How did such a little country accomplish all of that?
While the rest of the world was stumbling through a lot of historic uncertainty and fog, Great Britain was establishing principles of law and order, courthouses, law libraries, and, yes, even jails and theaters in countries far from its own shores.
Many in Burma didn’t want the Brits and all their order, civility, and modern methods to pull out and sail back to England. The people of Burma never had it so good.
Whenever I travel throughout India, I can’t even imagine that country’s economic predicament today had the English not built the railroad system across the country. Those railroads permit the movement of goods and products to marketplaces throughout India. And if the British hadn’t built docks and seaports, India might still be struggling today with inadequate internal transport systems, as is the case in Brazil.
Only now is Zimbabwe realizing that crops and farms and managed economics don’t just happen by themselves as the country tries to figure out how to keep its people from starving to death.
Myanmar is still the positive recipient of what the British left in place, even after all these years. And admittedly, as of today the people of old Burma haven’t added a lot to what the British left more than fifty years ago.
If I should ever talk openly about the “golden years” of many countries around the world that benefited from European influence, words like rape, pillage, and muffled mutterings of reparations would no doubt be hurled at me. But nonetheless, I still have to admit that I admire England’s vivid stamp in the history of nation building. Even on this trip, I’ve talked with many Burmese people who voluntarily and sincerely wish that they were still receiving the benefits of English progress that are now long gone.
For me, the world seems to be getting smaller and smaller. The final night in Rangoon, Daniel, Ma Lay, and I decided to go to a quaint restaurant on the outskirts of town. Not many people travel to Southeast Asia, almost no one travels to Myanmar, and even fewer make it to Rangoon.
Only twenty people could be seated at a time in the restaurant. Ten minutes after we had been seated, a man walked up to me and said, “You’re Jim Jackson, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I replied. “And just what are the odds that I would meet you here?”
The man represents a faith-based organization just outside London, and we had worked on a couple of projects together in the past. It’s a small, small world!
After leaving Daniel and all my new friends in Myanmar, I flew from Rangoon to Bangkok, Thailand. There I boarded a Thai Airways flight back to Los Angeles via Japan.
No sooner was I seated than a man came up to me and said, “Hi, Jim Jackson.”
It was John Pudaite, with whom I traveled to Mizoram, Manipur, and Nagaland in the country of India! I guess it could be said that the sun never sets on the friends of Project C.U.R.E. They are everywhere!
I thanked God over and over again for the unique opportunity to help my dear friend, Daniel Kalnin see his fondest dreams come true in being able to travel once again to his beloved Burma and deliver trained “barefoot doctors” and millions of dollars worth of desperately needed medical supplies and pieces of medical equipment to his friends and family in that beautiful land. What a joy and privilege!
I truly believe that Project C.U.R.E. is going to bring a lot of additional hope and wonderful change to the lives of all our new friends in old Burma.
Next Week: A Quick Summary of our 2003 Miracles in Burma