The Mandalay

Introduction to The Mandalay

This is a re-write of Rudyard Kipling’s poem ’Mandalay’ from 1890. I have always loved this poem, because in Denmark a respected folk singer made a pretty song out of it. But when I recently read it more careful I was actually surprised by it simplicity and in my eyes disrespect of the main character, the ’Burma girl’, as she is degraded to be called in the beginning. Further research also showed that many of the facts in the poem are not true. Kipling has altered the reality so it fits the structure and content of the poem.

Tha’t why I chose to re-write it. I have tried to honour the details by unfolding the story and elaborating the story of Supiyawlat, making the Burma girl a real person with skills and pride. I have also aimed to critise Rud (the I narrator) by giving him the author’s name and making him appear a little clumsy, stupid and stereotypical manly – but also affectionate and devoted.

In order to respect the history and the realities of what happened in Burma around the period where both the poem Mandalay and my re-write play (the colonisation), I have tried as well as possible to make all my descriptions of Burmese nature and traditions and not least historical facts true to reality.

Read Kipling’s original poem here http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Mandalay

/Fie Krøyer Dahl, September 2010

The Mandalay

Moulmein 1882

She looked west to the sea. The ocean was calm today. The humid was hanging over the city, clinging to her naked shoulders and the heat pushing her towards the ground. It would be a rainy day. But the hungry earth did not know yet, it was still only a notion in the air.
Supi rested her head on the wooden doorframe of the old pagoda, where she had a perfect overview of Moulmein and the surroundings. Flat hills, lush and green with rainforest continuing into the country.
She sighed at the movement. Stretched her slender legs out in front of her and made sure her yellow dress with the golden threads weaved into the fabric covered her knees.

Though the morning had been quiet as always, she had woken up with an unease in her body. The days here seemed similar, she could not remember one from another. Neither her friends or family were there, and she had read her last book yesterday not knowing when a new load would arrive. Mail was slow these days caused to all the turmoil in the country.
She slowly scanned the harbour for activity. Moulmein had a busy waterfront, with teak tree companyes closely decorating every available spot at the mouth of the Salween River, and when walking along the dock one could see boxes filled with all sorts of tropical fruits ready to be shipped to whom ever would pay for it.
Supi decided to go down there. Maybe she would find some entertainment somehow.

When she reached the harbour, the rain started to fall. Small drops prickling her face, as she leaned her head backwards and closed her eyes. A cool breeze caught her hair, thick and black it danced in the wind.
Suddenly she saw the ship, approaching in the distance, three masts with an umistakeable British flag silently shouting its mightyness to the world. The rain was now pouring impolitely from the grey roof above her. She found a sheltered spot with a good view and sat down to look at the voyager as it called to the port.

Soon she could hear the commanding voices of the admirals directing the seamen to dock the giant vessel. Ropes were thrown and tightened. A moment after the wharf was buzzing with fair haired men in blue uniforms, some looking very determined; others less sure of the meaning of their feet now placed on Burmese ground.
Supi unconsciously shook her head. The spectacle looked crazy from her hideout above. Like an invasion of ants struggling not to drown. One guy stood up over all the others, his back straight and his mouth a thin line, looking for something, worried. He took a few steps, not paying attention to the direction, and stumpled on some cages with chickens.
- Poor soldiers, Supi thought.
For a minute she was happy about her own situation, even though she sometimes felt stuck. But she definately had more freedom than them, even though she lived in a country which had been battling invading powers for more than fifty years.
She recalled her mother’s stories: The smell of gunpowder in the streets of Rangoon, where she was brought up, the Burmese soldiers fighting to death and the sound of a thousand civilian feet fleeing, diappearing in the mountains.
The atmosphere was always tense in this country, and Supi had a feeling that soon another shift of paradigm was to come.

In the evening she returned to the wooden bungalow, where she had resided the past months. The torch-lit porch welcomed her and she knew the warmth and kindness of this place existed only for her, so that she could recuperate as well as possible.
Lwin came out to the veranda.
- How are you, my dear, she asked, her voice soft and squeeky like an old rocking chair.
- You are all wet! It’s no good for your health, Supi.
Supi waved away the worries with her hand.
- I’m fine, she replied with a smile and put together her palms to greet the old lady.
- Just been wandering about all day, she said.
- You are one daydreamer, child. No wonder you get sick when you do not pay attention to neither cold or storm.
Lwin shook her head and then led Supi into the house. It was just one big room with woven carpets on the walls and big glassless windows facing a big garden.
- Come get some dinner.
They sat down in the middle of the room on the colourful mats on the floor. The housemaid brought in two big platters with food and put them on the low table. Fish, rice and crunchy fresh vegetables steaming with the smell of turmeric and other spices, Supi couldn’t define.
She ate with great hunger.

Bazaar

A black and yellow butterfly was resting in the window sill beside her bed when she woke up the next morning. It seemed to ponder for a brief moment, maybe thinking were to go next, and then it fluttered the big wings and floated away.
Supi closed her eyes. Sounds from the kitchen. Birds twittering. Somewhere a dog barked. Then she opened them. No rain! She got up, pushed open the bamboo door and peeked out. Light embraced her. Sun.
- A perfect day to go to the bazaar, she thought and hurried to get dressed. Every opportunity to get out she would accept with great pleasure. She had been forced to stay indoor and mostly in bed for so long, because she had caught the malaria, but now she felt better and of course she was free to do what she wanted. But she could not just wander the streets alone without purpose. At least not too often, it was not suitable for a young Burmese woman. She did it anyway, though. Like yesterday. She would go crazy if she were only to hang around the bungalow all day.

But the bazaar was close, and she could not see any reason not to go on such a lovely day. She sneaked out the house without Lwin’s notice, grabbed her shoes on the porch and ran barefooted down the road, jumping straight into every puddle she passed.
The entrance of the bazaar was already busy with all kinds of people. Salesmen with wagons, bald Buddhist monks and women with children hanging on their hips. Everywhere bargains were promoted out loud; everywhere people was chatting, laughing, crying and fighting in the narrow streets.
Supi loved this place. She loved to endulge in the many strange foods and artefacts one could buy and to walk around anonymously and observe the life and take in the atmosphere.
Suddenly she saw him. The tall soldier from the wharf yesterday. Sitting on a wooden chest, looking like he had eaten something poisonous; all pale and shaky. His friend beside him obviously did not know where to place himself. His long arms were restlessly flickering the golden buttons of his royal marine uniform, looking so neat and spotless and misplaced in the messy, dirty bazzar.
Supi moved closer, trying to distinct the words of the foreign language from each other.
Before she came close enough, someone took her by the arm. Old friends of the family, whom she hadn’t seen since she was a little girl. When the couple finally finished talking and she turned around, the soldiers were gone.

She went on through the masses of people, the sun now burning down from a blue sky. Though she actually never had to shop for anything herself, because everything was always provided for her both here in Moulmein and at home in Mandalay, she bought some red rambutans and a mango. She was just about to invest in a new scarf as well; its colours were bright and appealing. But she did not really need it. And Thi would not like it if she returned to Mandalay after two months with half the city on the wagon.

Outside the bazaar again, she headed back to the bungalow. She thought about her parents. Both old now, fragile and less mobile than they used to be. Supi feared the day they would no longer be there. Of course she would still have her three sisters. But they were all older and wrapped up in their own family life. Supi was the youngest and when she was a child, she was always the one who was allowed to fall asleep in the arms of one of the others. She was also the last one to leave the big house where they all grew up, and she had right from the beginning been the apple of her father’s eye. No one understood her as well as him.
She missed him. He was almost blind now, but his mind was still full of imagination, life and colors. And Supi knew that if death came to them, it would only take them to the next life until someday they reached Nirvana, as Supi was sure they would sooner or later. But hopefully they still had some time left here.

Head bent down and far away in thought, Supi suddenly felt something in front of her, like a shadow. She abrubtly took a pace backwards in order to avoid collision and looked up.
It was him. The soldier. He, too, seemed to be occupied with everything else but paying attention to where he stepped. He was alone now.
Initially he stared surprised at her, not knowing to go one or the other way around her. She did not move but observed his desperate moves. Then she smiled. And he laughed.
- I’m sorry, he said, shaking his blonde head.
- I did not see you at all.
Supi liked the way he pronounced the words. Soft, not like the other Englishmen she had met.
She shook her head.
- Me neither, she replied.
- That’s pretty, he said then.
- Are you lost too? he asked.
No, no. She was just on her way home, she told him. Been to the bazaar. The soldier explained how he had suddenly been feeling bad and when his friend had left to find some water, they had lost each other in the crowd. Now he was trying to get back to ship on his own, but the small streets of Moulmein confused him, all looking alike.
Supi felt a strange, faint thunder inside. She knew it would not be right to do it, but she could not help it:
- I can take you there, if you want..? She raised her eyebrows in question.
He was thrilled. Thanked her.
- I’m Rud by the way, he said and put out his hand to say proper hello.

Temple

So Supi started to walk towards the harbour with Rud by her side. They were a funny sight, the graceful Burmese girl next to the broad-shouldered Brit. Their stroll so different from one another, uneven in rhythm.

But conversation was smooth.
Rud had never been out of Europe. He told her about the long journey from England to Burma; about the tedious days on the ships, the quarrels and fights the soldiers in between. But he also unfolded for her the beauty of the rough sea, the starry sky in the quiet nights and the excitement of not knowing what was to come.

They passed the road leading to up a small hill to the temple, where Supi used to come. She invited Rud to see it. Since he had did not have to be back at the ship before dusk, he said yes.

Outside the temple Supi took off her shoes. She waited for Rud to do the same. But he just looked questioning at her.
- What’s that for? he asked reluctantly.

Supi looked surprised at him.
- We never wear our shoes inside. And definately not in sacred places, she said.
- It would be offensive to the Gods.

Rud put up a great laughter implying the ridicule in this. All that trouble every time going into a house?
Supi turned her head away and went inside the temple, leaving Rud on his own. Whatever. If he did not want to respect it, she did not care. She was surprised about his suddenly swift in person, almost mocking her religion. He had seemed so polite and oddly captivating.

She bent down and kissed the golden Buddha at the alter. Shortly after Rud joined her. His feet were bare, his socks peeking out from the left pocket of his uniform. Supi had never worn socks.

They were quiet for a while. Then Rud faced her.
- Can you accept my apology..? he whispered.

At his words a pleasent shiver went down Supi’s back.

Of course. He was new to everything here; the climate, the culture, the traditions. He was excused.

She told him about the Buddhist rituals, the temples, the monks and the meditation. She was not orthodox, but she obeyed some of the most simple rules, since it was something she was taught from the very beginning of life. So different from his, she realised.

Just before the sun set they left the temple, where they had been sitting outside on a bench enjoying some traditional pickled tea, which Rud of course initially refused to taste but then tried and found very tasty.

After having pointed him in the right direction towards the waterfront, she walked back through the semi-dark of the end of the day.

Pagoda

When they met the following morning he was newly shaven and wore his normal clothes. Supi had agreed to meet him again since she did not have anything more exciting to do – and because she actually enjoyed his company.

Again they walked side by side, aiming for no where in particular. Supi could feel the warmth steaming from his body. He was not used to the heath, he explained. In England it was cold and rainy. Though the summers could be nice, he added.

Suddenly they were near the old pagoda, where Supi had caught the first glimpse of the big ship, which had brough Rud to Burma.

She was eager to show him the view and dragged him up the high hill, though he objected and complained about being thirsty and in need of shade. But when he stood on top, he was amazed. They sat down on the stairs where the view over the Moulmein harbour was excellent. The sun caught the waves, blinking at them, inviting them to come closer. Maybe they should go for a swim later, Supi thought.

From up here they could see the workers load teaktree on to ships and of course Rud’s giant military vessel was there too. The seamen were preparing it for heading to sea again already tomorrow. Moulmein had just been a stop on the way further in to the country on the Salween River.

- Do you like being a soldier, Rud, she suddenly asked him.

- Do you like having the power to kill other people and take over their land and property?

He seemed to be surprised about the question. Hesitated for a while. Not sure about what to answer.

- It’s just the way it is, he said and went on:

- I’ve never really given it much thought. I’m proud of serving my country and the Queen. I think it is an honour.

He straightened his back a little when saying it.

Supi was so puzzled by this man. She liked him. And she did not like him. Or maybe she just did not like where he came from. The values he represented. And the fact that he obviously seemed to be thinking that all others than Europeans were somewhat underdeveloped.
But she was not sure. There was something about him which also intrigued her. He continued:

- And all my friends are in the army as well. All young men are asked to join. Or… asked is maybe not the right word. You have to.

- Says who?

- The law of course. Rud was seemed surprised that she did not know.

He looked down at his rough hands, turned them around and got lost into his own thought, staring at the palms, as if he was looking for some answer and hoped to find it there.

- And, well… there was not really anything for back home. I had gotten into some bad company, I guess you can say... With some bad habits. Gambling and such, you know. Because I was restless. And sad.

Supi listened in silence, waiting for him to continue.

- And so I chose to go away for a while. I thought it would probably be a good idea. And that it would help me back on the right track again.

- And so… does it feel better? Supi asked.

Rud nodded.

- Now it does, he smiled.

He definately knew how to pick his words.

- So what about you, Supi from Moulmein. What’s your story? Rud then asked.
Supi warded off the question. Not much to be said. Or that she wanted to tell.

- I’m not from here. I’m from Mandalay, she said. She told him about her family. That they were still in Mandalay, and she was only here because she was recovering from a severe illness, and so they had arranged for her to stay here in a house with a nurse and servants.

- Wow, your family must be rather wealthy then, when they can afford all that, Rud said.

Supi did not reply to the comment. She just looked distantly out to the river and smiled vaguely.

Rud grabbed for something in his pocket, pulled out a pack of cheroots and offered her one. Supi rejected the offer. She did not smoke, unless it was a special occasion. Besides, she added, it was only for old men with nothing better to do.

Rud laughed loudly, then he lit the long brown Burmese speciality and took a deep drag, eyes closed. He confessed that he used to smoke cigarettes at home, another one of his recently caught vices. But this cheroot was a whole other legue, he could already tell. Much richer and better than the imported paper tobacco.

They spent the rest of the day just walking around Moulmein, strolling the buzzing streets of the center and escaping the noise on the more quiet banks of the river. Rud bought her a bracelet and put it on her wrist.

- Never take it off, he made her promise. She promised.

When the darkness started to fall upon them so did the rain, and Rud asked Supi if he could walk her home. But she would not let him. And so their goodbye took place underneath a big durian tree sheltering them from both weather and the rest of the world.

Rud kissed her, and Supi kissed him back but only for a brief moment. Then she realised what she was doing, remembered the reality; her reality, and in that reality kissing another man, a stranger, was not a option.

She turned around and ran away, leaving Rud in alone in the rain.

She never saw him again. What she would never know was that Rud later would return to England after more than two years on the sea. He would pick up his life and his sorrows exactly where he had left them and never recover from the ache in his heart, of which origin he did not really know.
When he lay in the hooker’s bed in the narrow alleys of London, he would close his eyes and sweep off to the distant skies of Burma and the softness that was Supi. He would become the old sailor in the joint, telling stories of far away countries. But he would never be happy. Supi was like a jungle disease that never ceased haunting him until the day he died.

Queen and King

The next morning Supi was woken up by noises outside. She put on her morning robe and stepped outside, only to meet a sight she had certainly not expected. A large wagon with horses and coachman was parked in front of the bungalow. And out came Thibaw. The king. Her husband.

He smiled broadly. Opened him arms and approached her. Supi was terrified. Could he tell she had only the night before rested in the arms of someone else?

But Thi could only see him self. That was his gift, and though it was one of the things she liked least about him, for that Supi was grateful right now.

They hugged each other. The last time they had done so was several months ago. Then he led her to the carriage, and there the nanny was waiting with two little children.

Supi’s children. Whom she had not been allowed to bring with her to Moulmein, because she needed the outmost rest, as the doctor had said. Supi had cried for days, but it was out of her hands.

Now she cried again, but this time of happiness. She took them in her arms and never let go of them again.

- I have missed you, Queen Supiyawlat, Thibaw said.

And Supi realised that she had did the same. Even though Thibaw had never made her heart leap to endless hights, he was her husband and she loved him for his care and devotion to his family, and his courage in leeding the country.
This was her life, and she was content.

India 1930

She starred to the sea. The last days she had had a strange notion of longing. It did not happen that often anymore, she had been here way to long and almost gotten used to the thought of never going back. She looked to the horizon, across the calm ocean, so different from the waters of river she once called hers.
Somewhere out there on the other side was her old home. Somewhere in the dark was a past life, memories hidden in a far away drawer in a closet never opened, as tightly closed as her heart had been for years.
She had been safe in India, yes. But she always knew, from the minute the British troops had exported her and Thibaw to their exile here that she would never be the same.
On that November day in 1885, after only seven years of reign, when the soldiers had defeated the king and his army, and Thibaw was forced to abdicate, leaving his kingdom to Victoria, the queen of England, something died in Supi.

She looked down at her pearl bracelet. A faint memory of a soldier came to her. Was it true or had it been nothing but a dream, those Moulmein days? Supi was no longer sure. And it did not matter. It was all in the past. Long gone, like Burma and Thibaw and all that was theirs.

All gone.