by Di Morrissey
‘Natalie, I felt a moral obligation to make sure things were all right with your mission. I admired what you wanted to do.’
‘Thank you. This has been an extraordinary trip. Quite wonderful.’
Eventually the abbot appeared, strolling slowly and thoughtfully across the open space between the kitchen and the monastery. He looked up and when he saw the small group waiting for him, he nodded and signalled for them to join him as he began slowly ascending the steps to his room.
‘He wants us to follow him,’ said Moss.
‘Mr P, it would be nice if you could translate for me,’ whispered Natalie. ‘Aye Aye might not want to be distracted by my asking questions all the time.’
‘I will be happy to do that, if it is all right with the abbot,’ agreed Mr P.
They sat quietly in the room where they had first met the abbot yesterday. The abbot indicated that they should pull out the cushions that were stacked against the walls. Gracefully he sank onto a cushion, folded his legs into the lotus position and laid the kammavaca on the mat before him. Mr P sat slightly behind Natalie and Moss. Aye Aye sat directly opposite the abbot, with her head bowed.
The abbot began to speak. He went on at some length and Mr P whispered to Natalie, ‘He is describing how this kammavaca was created here, specifically for King Thibaw, and that different monks worked on each section so the whole was never known by any one monk except the abbot. The young monk who made the paintings became very famous. When the kammavaca was presented to the king, no-one knew he would shortly be forced into exile, except. . .’
Mr P listened to the monotonous timbre of the abbot’s voice before continuing: ‘Except the old abbot of this monastery. He had seen a time of change coming, and he wanted to give the king some comfort when it would be needed.’
‘What does that mean?’ whispered Natalie.
Mr P held up his hand as he concentrated on the abbot’s words. As the old monk spoke, Aye Aye gave Mr P and Natalie a swift glance, which Natalie couldn’t interpret.
The abbot picked up the kammavaca, opened it and read a section, quoting directly. Then he stared at Aye Aye as she absorbed what he’d said.
Mr P turned to Moss and Natalie, his eyes wide, a slightly stunned expression on his face. He spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. ‘It seems to be that the kammavaca holds the prophecy that the future of this country lies in the empowerment of the women of Burma, including the reinstatement of the authority of the nuns. The king and his descendants were entrusted with the scared knowledge that it will be women who will lead the country back to greatness.’
Mr P leaned towards Aye Aye. ‘Is that how you understand it? Of course, it is open to interpretation. The abbot at the time the kammavaca was made must have seen the British occupation coming and had a vision that a woman might restore Burma’s sovereignty. But now, of course, the prophecy could apply to the overthrow of today’s junta.’
Aye Aye nodded. ‘It’s extraordinary and very powerful. To empower women. You know that Burmese women have always been strong, but to reinstate the nuns’ authority, this is a stunning prophecy. That it will be a woman who leads Burma out of darkness. I am thinking of Aung San Suu Kyi.’
‘But she’s still under house arrest,’ said Natalie.
Mr P and Aye Aye exchanged a quick smile.
‘But her influence, her selflessness, her devotion to her country and her people gives all of us strength. If she can accept and wait and keep her faith strong, then so can we,’ said Aye Aye.
‘So there is no message about any hidden riches?’ said Natalie. ‘Sister Tin Tin Pe will be pleased about the nun’s equality.’
‘You are right. But I’m not sure the monks will see it this way. It’ll be controversial,’ said Aye Aye. ‘It really is a treasure. What could be more valuable than this? Here we have a manifest, we have hope, we have documentation from our own past showing us the way forward. It will be formidable ammunition when the time comes.’
‘What does the abbot think?’ asked Natalie, looking at the old monk’s impassive face.
Aye Aye asked him and translated his answer for Natalie. ‘He says we all share virtues of purity, of morality, of concentration and of wisdom if we follow Buddha’s teachings.’
Suddenly the monk lifted his finger and spoke more firmly.
Aye Aye repeated his words. ‘There was a prophecy that the sasana will last for five thousand years and that there will be a revival after two thousand five hundred years.’ She turned to Natalie and her face lit up. ‘And that is the twenty-first century, which is now!’
Mr P was shaking his head. ‘This will give much hope to many people. It vindicates The Lady. If this information is told, it will be a crucial moment in our history.’
The abbot picked up the kammavaca, slid it into its box and bowed to Aye Aye, his hands beneath his chin.
She returned his gesture. ‘The monks will know when the time is right to tell of it. For now the kammavaca will be placed somewhere safe.’
Natalie caught her breath, absorbing the importance of the moment. ‘Will it be secure?’ she whispered.
‘They will take it somewhere for safekeeping. It won’t be left lying on a shelf here,’ said Aye Aye firmly. ‘That was always meant to be the fate of this kammavaca. Its message is to be shown when it is needed.’
Each of them was quiet as they walked down the monastery steps towards the river.
Moss, who had been silent up until now, kept shaking his head. ‘I can’t believe it. To be here, to witness this. Can it remain a secret?’ he asked Mr P.
‘There will be whispers eventually, I am sure. But that is a good thing, because people will know that there is hope for the future.’
Aye Aye was walking with determination and some pride. ‘Democracy might seem a dream now in Myanmar, but it will come.’
‘I don’t think Michaelson would have offered me forty thousand dollars for the kammavaca, or tried so hard to steal it, if he had realised what it contained,’ Natalie said to Moss.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I’m sure he thought it would deliver him something of monetary value.’
‘I think the kammavaca’s message is perfect,’ said Natalie.
On the landing Natalie thanked Moss for his help before waving him goodbye. She stood in the sun watching the launch speed off into the distance through the sparkling water. She lifted her face to the sky, feeling the heat of the sun after the dim coolness of the shadowy monastery, and closed her eyes. She could hear the flapping wings of a large water bird as it swooped above the surface of the river, the papery rustle of bamboo leaves above her and the splash of the river against the bank. The sounds calmed her tumbling thoughts.
Had she just dreamed everything? Had she really rescued a small object that held a prophecy, a message of hope and a dream for the people of this far-off golden land in which she found herself? She had more than fulfilled the small, impossible dream of completing Uncle Andrew’s journey. She had come to a strange land on a vague errand. Yet now she felt as one with this place. She had been able to step far out of her comfort zone with the faith that what she was doing was the right thing. And she had been rewarded.
The full import of the meaning of the kammavaca was still difficult to comprehend. But the rewards of her journey were incalculable. The friends, the beauty of the land, the knowledge she had gained, the inkling of what might yet be to come were wonderful. She had risen to challenges and had many new experiences, she had gained wisdom and compassion and now she knew that her horizons were limitless.
She was ready to return home.
EPILOGUE
November 2010
NATALIE’S MOBILE PHONE AND computer were pinging with messages. The house phone rang before she reached her desk.
‘She’s out! I don’t think there’s any TV coverage yet. See if you can find it on the radio.’ Vicki was almost shouting. ‘It’s wonderful.’
‘Fantastic! Even though it was announced, I didn’t think it
would happen until she walked outside her gate!’ enthused Natalie. ’I must call Thi and Mi Mi!’
By the time Mark walked in the door from work, the children were jumping up and down, infected with their mother’s joy at the news that Aung San Suu Kyi had been released from house arrest, although they had little idea what it all meant.
Natalie rushed at Mark and hugged him. ‘The Lady is out from house arrest. Isn’t it wonderful! This is the start!’
‘Yes. A beginning.’
‘I mean, it’s early days, but this is the first hopeful sign that things are going to change in Myanmar. There’re crowds and crowds outside her house.’
Mark looked at Natalie’s ecstatic face. ‘I’m glad you’re glad. That is a pretty big deal. I suppose you’ll be getting together with your Burma friends to celebrate?’
‘We’ve been talking. There’s a long road ahead. Do you think the prophecy is coming true?’
‘I have no idea, Nat, but it’s a start,’ said Mark softly.
In her new sunroom Natalie looked out the window that faced the canal. She loved the way the light danced in from the bright water and spun rainbows through the glass ornaments lined up along the sill, especially Andrew’s little red elephant from May Lin’s glass factory in Yangon. She loved their renovated home, and the fact that Mark was now working back on the Gold Coast fulltime. The children were growing and happy. Life was good.
But there was a part of her that didn’t bask in the sunshiny life of Queensland’s paradise coast. Sometimes, in the crush of traffic jams or the noise of a shopping mall, Natalie would stop and suddenly recall the silent spread of the Bagan plains, sunlight and morning mist slowly revealing the ancient temples. Sometimes other visions of beautiful Burma, modern Myanmar, and its special people, flashed into her mind, making her smile.
She might never go back. But she would be watching and remembering. And hopeful.
Acknowledgements
To my beautiful grandchildren in the hope they will one day visit the Golden Land and discover a peaceful, democratic country.
To my adorable daughter-in-law Mimi and my son Dr Nicolas Morrissey. Thanks Nick for your help and knowledge, and the wonderful time you and I shared in Myanmar.
To my loving partner Boris Janjic for holding the fort, and for making my life so comfortable and such fun! Thank you, darling.
To my caring daughter Dr Gabrielle Morrissey Hansen, a fantastic mom, a dedicated educator and academic, and loving wife to dear Barrie. Thank you for your support and input. I’m very proud of you.
Very special thanks to my dear friend Janelle Saffin MP.
Thank you to my amazing editor and friend Liz Adams, whose valuable input challenges and pushes me, and who wrestles my hazy thoughts into focus and shares the daily battle of the book.
And to my friends: Australian Ambassador to Myanmar Bronte Moules (and Jantima); U Win Htein and Chit Suu, Eugene Quah and Wai Wai Kyaw, U Myo Thant, Gill Pattison, Ko Nay Dun Mya; Venerable monks Sayadaw Agga Nya and Sayadaw Vijja Nanda (Wiza); U Nay Oke; Thomas Soe and the Burmese community in Sydney; the well-travelled Greg Wisbey; Don M. Stadtner; Robert L. Brown, Professor of Art History at UCLA and Curator of South and Southeast Asian Art at LACMA (Los Angeles County Museum of Art).
To my family at Pan Macmillan: Ross Gibb, Kate Nash, Samantha Sainsbury, Danielle Walker, Jane Hayes, Hayley Crandell and special thanks to Rowena Lennox for her attentive copy editing.
Di Morrissey is one of Australia’s most successful writers. She began writing as a young woman, training and working as a journalist for Australian Consolidated Press in Sydney and Northcliffe Newspapers in London. She has worked in television in Australia and in the USA as a presenter, reporter, producer and actress. After her marriage to a US diplomat, Peter Morrissey, she lived in Singapore, Japan, Thailand, South America and Washington. Returning to Australia, Di continued to work in television before publishing her first novel in 1991.
Di has a daughter, Dr Gabrielle Morrissey Hansen, a human sexuality and relationship expert and academic. Di’s son, Dr Nicolas Morrissey, is a lecturer in South East Asian Art History and Buddhist Studies at the University of Georgia, USA. Di has three grandchildren: Sonoma Grace and Everton Peter Hansen and William James Bodhi Morrissey.
Di and her partner, Boris Janjic, live in the Manning Valley in New South Wales when not travelling to research her novels, which are all inspired by a particular landscape.
www.dimorrissey.com
Also by Di Morrissey
in order of publication
Heart of the Dreaming
The Last Rose of Summer
Follow the Morning Star
The Last Mile Home
Tears of the Moon
When the Singing Stops
The Songmaster
Scatter the Stars
Blaze
The Bay
Kimberley Sun
Barra Creek
The Reef
The Valley
Monsoon
The Islands
The Silent Country
The Plantation
The Opal Desert
Heart of the Dreaming
At twenty-one, Queenie Hanlon has the world at her feet and the love of handsome bushman TR Hamilton.
Beautiful, wealthy and intelligent she is the only daughter of Tingulla Station, the famed outback property in the wilds of western Queensland.
At twenty-two, her life lies in ruins. A series of disasters has robbed her of everything she ever loved. Everything except Tingulla – her ancestral home and her spirit’s Dreaming place…
And now she is about to lose that too…
An extraordinary story of thwarted love and heroic struggle, HEART OF THE DREAMING is the tale of one woman’s courage and her determination to take on the world and win.
The Last Rose of Summer
A compelling story of two beautiful and remarkable women connected across the decades by the men who love them… and the magic of a place called Zanana.
KATE, a strong willed heiress determined to defy Edwardian convention, but she must pay the ultimate price to keep the home she loves so much…
ODETTE, an independent and idealistic young journalist caught in a fierce battle to save Zanana from ruthless developers…
Years apart yet inextricably linked by Zanana, the magnificent mansion they both love, these two striking women prove they are not afraid to fight for what they believe in.
From the turn-of-the-century India to contemporary Sydney, THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER is an epic story of love, possession and intrigue.
Follow the Morning Star
Queenie and TR return in Di Morrissey’s sequel to the bestselling HEART OF THE DREAMING.
Queenie Hanlon has a perfect life. She’s the mother of two adoring children, the wealthy owner of a thriving outback station and the wife of handsome bushman TR Hamilton.
Then one day, Queenie’s perfect life comes crashing down…
Her bitter and vengeful brother returns from Italy to lay claim to his inheritance. Her precious daughter is seduced by her uncle into giving up all Queenie’s strived for. And her beloved TR, injured in a riding accident, can no longer recall the life they once shared.
FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR is a triumphant story of courage, strength and a rare and beautiful love that endures the test of time.
The Last Mile Home
It is 1953 in a small Australian country town, a time of postwar prosperity and hope.
The Holtens are wealthy, yet austere graziers who have lived on the land for generations. The McBrides are a large and loving shearer’s family who are new arrivals to the district.
When the McBrides’ eldest daughter falls in love with the Holtens’ only son and heir, it seems impossible that they can have a future together.
As conflict and tragedy confront them, it is only with great determination that their love can survive.
THE LAST MILE HOME is an unforgettable story of the po
wer of enduring love.
Tears of the Moon
Broome, Australia 1893
In the wild passionate heyday of the pearling industry, and when young English bride Olivia Hennessy meets the dashing pearling master, Captain Tyndall, their lives are destined to be linked by the mysterious power of the pearl.
Sydney 1995
Lily Barton embarks on a search for her family roots which leads her to Broome. But her quest for identity reveals more than she could have ever imagined…
TEARS OF THE MOON is the spellbinding bestseller from Australia’s most popular female novelist.
‘Morrissey’s research into the pearl industry and the history of Broome is formidable…she tells a good story’ SYDNEY MORNING HERALD
When the Singing Stops
The journey that changes her life…
A young Australian woman leaves Sydney for a new world…Guyana, South America.
Captivated by Guyana’s wild, unspoilt beauty, Madison Wright joins the native Amerindians struggling to preserve their culture against corporate exploitation. But her new-found commitment soon plunges Madison into a mire of murder, drug smuggling and political corruption. And finally, an unexpected love that pits her heart against her beliefs.
From Sydney’s sparkling harbour to the lush rainforests of South America, WHEN THE SINGING STOPS is a triumph of storytelling.
‘Morrissey is a gifted storyteller…well researched and evocatively written’
AUSTRALIAN BOOKSELLER & PUBLISHER
Di Morrissey
The Songmaster
A timely and profound novel that entrances and entertains.
In Melbourne, a baby girl is found abandoned in the Victorian Art Gallery. She is wrapped in a shawl decorated with a motif that links her to ancient rock paintings in the Kimberley…
In Los Angeles, a movie producer’s dying daughter is haunted by nightmares after visiting the Kimberley…