ANSWERS IN THE SKIN: THE TATTOOS OF SHAN STATE, BURMA
Words and Pictures by Michael McCabe

The Union of Burma, or Myanmar as it is called by the current military junta, continues to emerge from the consequences of British colonial rule that began in 1824 and ended in 1948. For the purpose of this article, the country will be referred to as Burma, which is the pre-junta historical name associated with the democratizing struggle of 1991 Noble Peace Prize laureate Aung San Suu Kyi. She has been under house arrest in the city of Yangon (formerly Rangoon) for more than ten years.

Life today in Burma is characterized by an unpredictable political, social and economic situation that has very real consequences for the people living there. Average life expectancy is only about 50 years for the 52 million Burmese, health care is minimal and the literacy rate is below 30%, with a GDP per capita annual income around $225.00 USD.

In March 1988, pro-democracy protests against the military junta which called itself the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC) resulted in the killing of 3,000 mostly student Burmese, the decentralization of universities and abolishing of the constitution. In 1997, the junta changed its name to the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC), which continues to maintain the authoritarian dominance it funds as the world's number-two supplier of opium and Asia'snumber-one producer of illegal methamphetamine.

EARLY MORNING YANGON
Early morning along Botataung Pagoda Road in the Ba Son Taung section of Yangon is a waking dream as one passes through a confusion of unfamiliar cultural references and images. The city is crumbling. Broken sidewalks are crowded with people cooking and eating their spicy breakfast of sweet curry with banana, flat bread and strong tea. Noisy, overloaded antique Chevy buses from the 1940s rumble past. People pause and look back curiously over their shoulders, and a few say "Migalaba" (hello).

Young men sit wearing longi cloths wrapped around from waist to knee, their exposed chests decorated with a scramble of tattoos. Some men, but more women, have white Tanaka paste applied on their faces in stylized patterns or careless smears. It is meant to protect the skin from the hot sun. The young men pull back their shoulders and push out their tattooed chests in an act of intimidating bravado. The Burmese are known for their bravado.

Along the street, rough boys group together aggressively in a close-knit way. Their eyes squint doubtfully and their mouths vaguely smile. They are beaten up, with torn shirts and worn-out pants. Their scratchy tattoos are the result of idle, jailhouse play. More tattoos emerge at the big Sule Pagoda central square, which is crowded with dozens of young toughs changing black-market money. Buddhist chanting echoes from an overhead loudspeaker tower as sleeves are pulled, pant legs are rolled, shirts are unbuttoned and backs are exposed.

The boys' sun-darkened skin is completely blue-black with illegible ink. Image upon image of the barely decipherable. One boy has a blurry tiger across his chest, another has a huge dragon around his arm, a third has Burmese script on his wrist and the back of his hand. It's all a complete mystery. The young men laugh, shake their heads and pull away at the threat of being photographed.

There are theories about language and how people communicate; genres of meaning and the ordering of expressive codes to minimize confusion. In the West, tattoos are now a part of these coded systems, an intersection of differing tattoo styles that people have learned and use as shared messages to express themselves in nuanced ways. Burma remains outside these preordained systems. The codes of expression in Burma continue to be private and unknown to the West, due to the country's extreme isolation. There is a long history of tattooing among the people of Burma, but very little is known about it.

It will take almost a week of rough travel northeast of Yangon to reach the remote mountains of the Shan State, where the men are heavily tattooed. Unlike the jailhouse boys in Yangon, Shan men are covered with a historical system of rare images that include powerful animistic symbols and ancient deity personalities used for protection during fighting.

TRAVEL NORTH
North of Yangon, in the town of Bago, there is a small wedding ceremony underway at the Hindha Koung pagoda. Four feminine-looking Acault (pronounced Achow) dancers dressed in bright pink, green, red and orange robes spin and dip in prescribed patterns around the bridal couple. They move in step, following exotic, rhythmic music, as the wedding vows are read. Their beautiful faces are heavy with white makeup, dark eye shadow and exaggerated red lipstick. They are neither male nor female, but transgendered Nat spirit priests who exist somewhere in between, as a third sex. Their unique sexual identity is believed to give them a special ability to control events in people's lives. They appeal to the traditional system of the 37 Nat spirits that oversee everyday life in Burma. Their dancing at the wedding is meant to bring good fortune to the ceremony and bridal couple.

Most people in Burma are Buddhist, but the belief system is a fluid arrangement that also includes very old pre-Buddhist animist beliefs. Importance is placed on the power of certain inanimate objects like trees, specific stones, water, the wind and sounds. Burmese people are very superstitious and think it is necessary to appeal to traditional Nat spirits for help in their lives: A new baby, a new car, a ruined love affair, health problems, money problems-getting tattooed. In Burma, the intersection of the waking and spirit worlds is the basis of daily life, and people pride themselves in their skill in navigating between these two interdependent realities.

The road north through the Bago Division to the town of Taungoo is really beat-up. The surrounding land is flat, with fields of soybeans or flooded paddies of rice. In the woods beyond the cultivated fields, the Min Dig Nuo section of Taungoo has big-leafed, low jungle growth that consumes everything. At the end of a foot path, two traditional tattoo specialists live in humble stilt homes at the edge of a hacked-away clearing. Curious children stand at a safe distance in the tall weeds near the houses. Their bodies are pointed towards the woods, legs ready to bolt at the slightest hint of wrongdoing.

The two men are in their late 50s and focus on different types of tattoos. U Tin Win tattoos images that are curative and Buddhist, U Nyien Wang is a meditative master who specializes in animistic images about strength and fighting. He instructs men in the traditional arts of Burmese fighting called Myanmar Thaing, and tattoos them with power signs. He explains that each state in Myanmar has a slightly different fighting style. Some only use the hands, while others use knives and instruments. He describes that fighting masters train in yoga and the concentrative arts as well as tattooing. He points into the distance towards the horizon and the towering Shan plateau, saying that all Shan men are tattooed to fight.

Three older men emerge quietly from the woods saying, "Nay gong la?" (How are you?) They are very timid but one pulls up his longi to reveal bold traditional tattoos that look like postage stamps on his thighs. Inside each stamp design there are graphic drawings of animals or birds that represent the pre-human incarnations of the Lord Buddha. The other men reveal mysterious coin-like symbols running down their forearms used to strengthen the bones during fighting.

Deeper into the woods, a very old man and his sister are introduced. Their stilt home is simple with little more than the basic necessities of a few pots and simple bedding. The floors and walls are woven thatch. Small lizards in the hand-hewn rafters make gentle chirping sounds. The couple is thin with age and poor nutrition but smile warmly as they delicately unfold a large piece of yellow oilcloth decorated with hundreds of traditional tattoo designs. It has been passed through their family for generations and will be given to male grandchildren when they become young adults. The man strokes and pats the folded cloth affectionately, as if it is alive.

INTO THE SHAN HILLS
There is a six-hour switchback mountain road north to Kalaw and then a four-hour hike into the beginning of the Shan hills that run for miles toward the hazy horizon. The land is pristine, with narrow fertile valleys of wild rice and vegetables. There are nine Palaung tribal villages in the area inhabited by 7,000 people who speak a rare Mon-Khmer language with no written form. Men and women are usually married between ages 14 to 19 and permitted to marry only into the tribe. Couples usually have between five to nine children and, because of the closed marriage custom, a rare recessive genetic trait of albinism exists.

Palaung people migrated to these hills more than 1,500 years ago from the Yang-zi River basin in central China and look different than typical Burmese. Life in these hills is very isolated. Palaung see some of the things associated with the outside world from time to time, but do not necessarily understand them.

Today in developed societies, everyone's head is overrun with a library of representations that constantly change to the beat of commercial influences. They survive for now in a fragile balance with that other world they know little about.

The arduous switchback climb up the Shan hills is a slow zigzag toward the plateau region. The panorama is a dense cluster of tall mountains and a leveling dip toward Inle Lake. Travel into Shan territory beyond the lake is forbidden. There is an unsteady standoff between government forces who skirmish regularly with the Shan rebels. Strong evidence incriminates the government of forcing Shan people to work on large, opium-producing farms, and the area is completely sealed off.

Four young men cluster along a narrow street of Inle town, holding a large spool of string. They squint into the distance at their small tissue-paper fighting kite and a challenger kite that has climbed into the sky. Boys soak new string in water and glue before applying sand-like ground glass. The kite pilots chatter about strategy as they attack and slash at the adversary's kite with skilled tugs of their string. Then, an enthusiastic hoot as the challenger's kite goes slack and drifts like a leaf to the ground. Combat and a good fight is the core of Shan masculine culture.

Tri-shot bicycle taxi boys rest in the shade, watching the dip and dodge of the kites. Each young man's body is tattooed with Shan fighting symbols. "Yes, fight," one says. "Fight is part of life. Fight is good." All the tri-shot drivers smile, roll up their sleeves, spit on their palms and rub at their tattoos. Some are Buddhist monograms but more are Nat worship images of knives, eels, lizards, spiders and tigers.

THE MEANING OF THE TATTOOS
At the Shwe Yan Pyay monastery, a young man kneels next to a small alter reciting prayers. He has several Shan tattoos and begins to explain about them. "I was tattooed for protection," he says. "I have Min Cryi and Min Lay tiger Nat tattoo on my right thigh. I use when someone threatens me. I slap tattoo and I feel the power of the tiger. I can jump away or I can fight. To use these tattoos, I must not eat pork. This is forbidden or tattoo will have no power. I also have tattoo the same shape as a temple. I will be safe with this tattoo, I cannot be attacked. There are rules I must follow," he continues. "Do not kill, do not steal, do not cheat on wife, must tell the truth, must not drink alcohol. When they make the tattoo, they put special medicine in the ink. When the monk finishes, he blows on the tattoo and says special words. Shan men get tattoos like this for more than 300 years. A Shan man without a tattoo is looked at like a girl or sissy. It is important for a man to be tattooed. Woman also get tattoo, but not for fighting. Women farmers get special tattoos for working in the fields. They get special spider tattoo on feet for protection from snake bite. Male farmers also get spider tattoo on feet for snakes. Snakes do not like spiders. They see the tattoos and go away.

"In every house there is a Nat stand with coconut and some flower for the Eing Twin Nat. This is offering that keeps bad people from entering the house. If too much belief put in Nat worship, this is not good. People say it becomes like 'shadows on the mind' and you will become too controlled by your belief. "

When Soe Min Latt looked at the hands and feet of his newborn son he noticed a remarkable difference of six fingers and toes, not the usual five. He and his wife were not shocked or upset, but rather, were consoled, knowing their son had been blessed with a powerful gift of good fortune. Soe immediately bought local lottery tickets for the numbers two and four or 24, and, later that week, he won. He named his son Phyo Thi Ha Zaw, which means development, lion, brave and strong, honest and peaceful.

"I think life in Burma is different," Soe says. "We look at life different. Day of the week you born is very important. My son born on Tuesday. This is lion day. In Burma, we have eight days to a week, not seven. We have two Wednesdays used by astrologers. Wednesday is elephant day, Monday is tiger, Thursday is mouse, Friday is Mole, Saturday is Dragon, Sunday is animal called gallon. Men in Burma get tattoo of their day animal.

"Every pagoda in Burma designed with eight angle, one for each day," continues Soe. "When you pray, you go to angle for your day of birth. North side is Saturday, North East Sunday, East Monday, like this. When you get tattoo, you get only on your day. This is very important.

"A Shan boy is a man only when he gets his tattoos. He is still a child, until he feels the pain of a tattoo. Sometimes people say that the pain from the tattoo is not as bad as the itching during the healing. They say, 'If you scratch yourself, you will spoil the beautiful patterns on your body. Remember, if you spoil the tattoo, no girls will admire you.'

"Tattoo designs are added sometimes on the back and arms. These are charms to prevent wounds or accidents," says Soe. "It is a sign of manhood. No girl recognizes a man is of marriageable age until he is tattooed, and, sometimes, love charms are tattooed on the tip of the tongue. Designs like a coin are tattooed on arm to help with all kinds of wounds. They are different size and have lines to make four parts. Sometimes, in each there is a letter written in Burman not Shan language. One letter is for the scale of a fish, one is for monkey, one for crab, one for peacock. These animals are the Buddha before he became a man. These animals will protect the man who has the tattoos."

Soe has animist tattoos on his chest that he received as a young man. They are known as the Mt. Popa brothers, Byaut Wi, the older, who controls his anger, and the younger, Byaut Ta, who likes to fight. They represent two dueling Shan male personas and the tattoo is meant to create a balance. Soe also has the common Shan tattoo of an eel on his arm. It will make him slippery like an eel and prevents him from being captured or bound by enemies.

Soe explains that it is important to be tattooed during certain times of the year and cycles of the moon and stars. "You must wait for the 'Full Star' to get a tattoo," he says. "During the November full moon light, traditional medicine is made called Say Boung Kha Tae Nya, which means, many medicine get power. The full moon period is when people get tattooed. If there is a slight mistake in calculating the position of stars or there is a falling star during the tattooing, the meaning of the tattoo becomes weak and strange. Tattoo masters feel this will make a corrupt person. This is called 'thief power.' Cat tattoos are used by thieves called Nga Tet Phya, who take from the rich and give to the poor.

"This kind of tattoo still used by people today, but the old ways are changing," says Soe. "Now there is a struggle between old and new and people wonder which way to go. I think that Shan men will stay with their fighting tattoos and maybe they will have new tattoos, too."

The intrinsic consciousness that distinguishes humankind from the rest of the animal world is a gift and a curse. Humans are aware of their world but also haunted by the mysteriousness of it. People like the Shan have developed tattooed symbol systems as tools that provide a sense of control and well being for them. For now, equilibrium exists between the Shan, their tattoos and the surrounding world. It is unclear how long this balance will survive.