Waiting on the
Dead
Shuyin Buddhistdoor Global |
2018-05-07 |
With a wasted body and
listless eyes, 37-year-old Pyu stares into space. Soon his
prolonged battle with tuberculosis will be over. The faint chanting
of Buddhist monks can be heard in the distance, as if to soothe his
tormented spirit. Yet Pyu’s mind is not appeased. How can he have a
“good” death when he knows not what will happen to his aged mother,
his wife, and two children? Furthermore, how will they manage his
funeral with no money and no help?
In Buddhist Myanmar,
funerals are of the utmost importance. But for too many poor
Burmese families, especially those living in Yangon, the cost of
even a simple funeral is beyond their means. Many resort to taking
out high-interest loans, or secretly burying their dead in a field.
With escalating costs and widespread land grabbing in recent years,
times are hard for both the living and the dead. As 80-year-old Ma
Moe laments: “It is costly even to die. If I’m going to die, I’ll
go back to my village. If I die there, at least the community will
help with the funeral. I don’t want my children to owe a lot of
debt because of my funeral.”
“Most people are
desperately poor in this country,” says Kyaw Thu, a burly bearded
man with a grey ponytail. “Traditional funeral costs are on average
about US$7,500, according to a 2014 survey, and that does not
include cemetery costs in Yangon, which will easily cost around
another US$2,000. A typical funeral and burial costs run to at
least US$9,000. And undertakers expect to be paid in full at the
time of the funeral. That is impossibly unaffordable for many
people.”
No one understands the cost
of dying in Myanmar better than Kyaw Thu. For the last 15 years, he
has conducted thousands of funerals, served as hearse driver,
pallbearer, consoled the bereaved and provided for the needy. For
him, it is all part of a day’s work, yet his very presence at the
funerals usually causes quite a stir. After all, he was once
regarded as the Marlon Brando of Myanmar, with more than 200 films
and two Myanmar Academy Awards to his credit (one for best actor in
Da-Byi-Thu Ma Shwe Hta A in 1994 and one for best director on Amay
No Bo in 2003). These days, however, he is more likely to be found
inspecting hearses at the Free Funeral Service Society’s (FFSS)
headquarters in Yangon’s Thingangyune Township. But be it as a
screen idol or president and co-founder of one of Myanmar’s largest
NGOs providing free funeral services for the poor, the charismatic
Kyaw Thu is still immensely popular with the masses.
Kyaw Thu’s dice with the
dead was cast one day when a prominent monk told his daughter about
the dire fate that awaits actors after they die. “The monk said
that this is because actors play with people’s emotions, make them
laugh, cry, and feel anger during their movies. This is not in line
with Buddhist virtues, so they will be reborn in the lower realms,”
Kyaw Thu recounted. The monk’s words jolted Kyaw Thu into reviewing
his life and what he was doing. One day, while visiting his mentor,
the late movie director Thuka, in hospital, Kyaw Thu learned of the
plight of the old woman in the next bed. “Her family visited her
daily until the doctor pronounced that they should take her home
because there was nothing else he could for her,” he recalled.
“Then the family stopped coming to the hospital and the woman died
alone and was buried in a common grave. We later learned that they
had abandoned her because they did not have money to pay for her
funeral.”
As a devout Buddhist, Kyaw
Thu, like his mentor Thuka, believes that funeral rites are
important as they signify the passage into the next life. Moved by
the plight of the poor, the two decided to set up a free funeral
service to help the needy honor their loved ones with a dignified
and proper funeral. On 1 January 2001, the FFSS was
founded.
The early years of the FFSS
were fraught with difficulties. For a start, there were cultural
superstitions to overcome. It was not easy to recruit workers and
volunteers, as many Burmese believe that working with the dead is
lowly and unlucky. In some neighborhoods, street signs reading “no
hearses allowed” are put up to discourage hearses from driving
through. Some in the film industry ostracized Kyaw Thu. His
show-business friends were shocked that he carried coffins at
funerals and some even refused to co-star with him. In 2007, Kyaw
Thu’s acting career suffered another blow. He was accused of
supporting the Saffron Revolution after donating food to protesting
monks, and was arrested and banned from the film
industry.
But like the revolutionary
heroes he has portrayed on screen, iron-willed Kyaw Thu took it all
in stride, and even saw it as a blessing because it allowed him to
dedicate his time fully to the FFSS and helping people. “The
people’s tears are your tears. The people’s happiness is your
happiness. As long as you have a compassionate heart, you can feel
for the people,” he observed.
With his perseverance and
energetic drive for social change, Kyaw Thu has won the support of
many public figures, including Aung San Suu Kyi. All FFSS services
are funded by private donations and heavily supported by
volunteers. To date, the FFSS has conducted more than 150,000 free
funerals, serving those in need regardless of class, race, or
religion. With a staff of more than 100, and 500 volunteers, the
society handles about 40–50 funerals daily, taking full
responsibility from collecting the body and renting a funeral van,
to providing a coffin and meeting all the expenses for the mortuary
and cremation.
The FFSS has since expanded
beyond its core service of providing free funerals to include
medical, educational, and many other social services. The Thu Ka
Charity Clinic, which has about 50 volunteer doctors and 100 paid
staff, provides free medical care ranging from eye surgery to
kidney dialysis for some 100 patients daily. The FFSS also operates
a 24-hour emergency response service with a fleet of ambulances,
and runs a charity school for children from poor families providing
free vocational training such as IT and hospitality. In addition,
it is involved in humanitarian relief, such as providing aid after
Cyclone Nargis, and a range of environmental and healthcare
programs.
In 2015, Kyaw Thu won the
Ramon Magsaysay Award, for “his generous compassion in addressing
the fundamental needs of both the living and the dead in
Myanmar—regardless of their class or religion—and his channeling
personal fame and privilege to mobilize many others toward serving
the greater social good.”On receiving the award, a modest Kyaw Thu
said, “I got this prize not only because of me but also the unity
of donors, volunteers, and staff all together.”
Kyaw Thu’s immense
popularity with the masses and their support of the FFSS has, as
expected, led some to be wary of his political ambitions. But as he
expressed in a post-award interview, “I don’t want that dirty
political life. But in my social work, I can really do things and
reach out to the people with a true heart.”
Kyaw Thu is also quick to
emphasize that the FFSS is not a political engine: “We don’t
distinguish between religions, between enemies and friends. We help
all sorts of people.” Through the years, the FFSS has buried
everyone from pro-democracy activists to army-linked elite
politicians. In early 2017, the FFSS provided funeral assistance to
U Ko-Ni, a prominent Muslim lawyer and strong proponent of
inter-religious harmony, who was assassinated at Myanmar
International Airport, and U Nay Win, the taxi driver who was shot
dead while chasing the attacker.
Work at the FFSS has
changed this once-celebrated film star’s outlook on life and work.
“After witnessing and experiencing many happenings in my life, I
have come to know more about the value of life,” he explained. “As
an actor, I used to crave publicity and chased money and fame, but
now I want nothing but to help those in need.”
After years of waiting on
the dead, Kyaw Thu is ready to stare his own death in the face: “I
am not afraid of dying. Death is our inescapable destination. We
all are on the path to death, whether rich or poor, famous or
unknown. When you die, you cannot take your wealth and fame. We
leave nothing behind except our good deeds. So we should do as many
good deeds as we can while we are still breathing. The rest will
take care of itself.”
For this legendary hero of
Myanmar, life has no regrets. Baring his left arm, he reveals a
tattoo that reads: “Hey! Walk your own path. Do your own duty.
Fulfill your own obligations. Be guided by your own virtue. Write
your own history. That’s all. Kyaw Thu.”