From Siddhartha Gautama to Tony Soprano

The 705-foot tall Yankin Hill is three curvy miles east of Mandalay. Yankin means “free of danger,” so it is not surprising that the area affords a bit of peace and quiet away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Sir Herbert White more liberally translated the name as “Hill of Peace.” The hill also goes by the name Nga Yant Taung, after the fish described in the story that follows. Its name is also a testament to the safe refuge it afforded Mandalay residents from the intense fighting and bombing in and around the city during World War II.

The hill area was first developed as a pilgrimage site by U Khanti during the colonial era. Further playing to the meaning of its name, two Jātaka Tales attest to this being where the Buddha escaped enemies in former lifetimes, one of which places him as a snakehead fish in a pond in a cave near the top of the hill. The Jātaka Tales, or stories of the Buddha’s past births, appear to have been canonized in the 5th century (most appear in the Cariyapitaka in Khuddaka Nikaya of Sutta Pitaka). Apart from these, there are also the “apocryphal Jatakas” in which local cultures and contexts are brought in. In Myanmar this is known as လက္တန္း၊ ဒဏၭာရီ, and such stories are not found anywhere in the Pāḷi scriptures. This particular Yankin tale appears to be an example of this.

The Yankin area is famous for a reputed connection to the Buddha: that he was a snakehead fish here in a previous birth. Interestingly, fossil records trace this species back 50 million years to the Himalayan region of northern India, which also happens to be Siddhartha Gautama’s birthplace. The fish eventually migrated into European, African, and Asian waters.

However, in spite of the fact that some people find them an exotic delicacy, overall they are considered a big nuisance, partly because of their rows of small, sharp teeth. They are such an invasive species in the United States that it has been strictly illegal to bring live snakeheads since 2002. The theory is that at some point, someone must have tired of having a few as “pets,” and dumped them into a local waterway. After cleaning that pond or lake of prey, the snakeheads literally marched off in search of new waterways to conquer…on their fins, since they can breathe air for short periods. In this way, they migrated far and wide, wiping out local species as they went, waterway after waterway. This is not dissimilar to another invasive species from the Golden Land, the Burmese Python. After Hurricane Andrew in 1992, the reptile took over Florida’s Everglades and eventually stretched as far to south Texas, and was eventually banned for import in 2012. This has earned snakeheads such monikers as Frankenfish and Fishzilla. They have even wiggled their way into American pop culture, earning a mention on “The Sopranos,” no less, among other things.

Today, while snakeheads are apparently no longer found anywhere near “Snakehead Fish Cave” in Yankin Hill—they exist there still in spirit, through the plethora of statues all around the hill.

Another tale associated with this site took place many centuries ago. King Alaungsithtu, who ruled from Bagan in the 12th century, was concerned about his wayward sons, especially the oldest, named Min Shin Saw. The king sent him to the northern part of the kingdom, where he governed a town near Amarapura. There was a severe drought there and the town’s lake and water tanks had become perilously close to empty; Min Shin Saw began construction of an irrigation system connecting Aung Lake(south of Yankin Hill, although Aung Lake is no more; it has been filled in and transformed into many paddy fields) to the town’s farms. This irrigation system eventually supplied water to over 31,000 fields. But meanwhile, the drought raged on, and knowing the Jātaka Tale told above, Min Shin Saw ordered a large statue constructed of the snakehead fish. The story goes that from these demonstrations of piety, combined with monks reciting and making a collective “vow of truth,” the rains came back and the land once again became fertile. And in this case, when it rains, it pours…local Burmese believe that the rain kept on until the point of flooding, causing the villagers to lug the statues further up the hill so they wouldn’t be inundated. Once the statues reached the top of the hill, the torrential downpour finally ceased. In the years that followed, other snakehead fish statues would similarly be created in times of need, to be stored in the royal palace and brought out during droughts. Due to these seemingly miraculous events, many Burmese believe this is a region favored by the celestial beings, and there has been magical practices happening within the caves of these hills for some time.

Today, snakehead fish statues are found along the path leading up the hill, as are nga yant dwin (ငါးရံ့တြင္), “snakehead fish wells.” Annual festivals are held in June, in hopes of bringing about a good rainy season. These are regularly attended by farmers whose livelihoods are directly impacted by the weather, and the statues also get paraded through the streets of Mandalay.

Asaygan Fort

By 1850, King Mindon began to build fortifications along the Ayeyarwaddy River to prepare for the expected skirmishes to come with British troops. In 1885, three forts were built in a triangle in attempt to trap oncoming British soldiers, and were considered the last line of defense before the royal capital of Mandalay. Asaygan was one of these three, designed in the shape of a semi-circle, with walls nine feet high with holes for rifle fire (except for the south-facing wall). In the end, however, the forts were never used because the King and Parliament ordered its troops not to resist when the British did eventually come; indeed, when the advancing Colonel White arrived to disarm the populace, he was given a dinner by the newly surrendered Burmese commander. Sir Herbert White writes in A Civil Servant in Burma, “The fall of Mandalay had been so sudden that it had not yet been realized in rural places, and the forces of opposition had not yet been organized. Very soon the turmoil began. It was then long before officers were able to travel without escort in Upper Burma.”

The inexorable march of tropical greenery has invaded even the innermost fortifications, but amidst this one can find some old cannons and the original walls. On the Sagaing side there are tombstones of British soldiers who died in some minor skirmishes in 1885 in spite of the overall peaceful surrender of Burmese forces.

Obviously, this fort is not really related to Buddhist practice in any way. So unless one is a history buff, it may not be worth the detour, and there are certainly no conducive sites for a sitting. But if one does go, the crows can be quite bad here during the cool season, so a laser is recommended. Admission to the fort is free.

A Grave Risk to Future Disaster

“As strict Buddhists, Burmans are supposed to abstain from animal food, or, at least, from taking life for the purpose of providing food. For fishermen, who must break this precept daily, special uncomfortable hells are reserved. Hunting and shooting are practised at grave risk of future disaster, and usually by the younger men who think they have time to make up for these derelictions, or are giddily thoughtless of the hereafter. A pious friend of mine in Upper Burma used to be much scandalized at the levity of his aged father, who persisted in coursing hares when he ought to have been making his soul. But as regards the consumption of flesh of birds, beasts, and fish, there seems to be no practical restraint among any class... The flesh of no creature which has died a natural death, except perhaps dogs and tigers, is despised.” 

--- Sir Herbert White, A Civil Servant in Burma, 1913

Ledi Sayadaw: "His fervour and fiery zeal effected real revival..."

Sir Herbert White was a British administrator who spent much time in Burma in the late 19th and early 20th century. His highly engaging memoirs, A Civil Servant in Burma from 1913, offers a rich collection of anecdotes, history, and observation from an official who was perhaps more open-minded and inquisitive than many of his peers. In the following remarkable passage, Sir White comments on having heard about the great works of-- and later meeting-- the venerable Ledi Sayadaw.

“One of the most striking personalities in modern Burmese Buddhism is the Ledi Sadaw [sic]. This remarkable man devoted some years of his life to travelling through the country preaching and exhorting. His passionate eloquence drew immense congregations. Wherever he went he was greeted by enraptured throngs. Men and women vied in adoration of this saintly personage, women loosing their hair and spreading it as a carpet for his holy feet. His fervour and fiery zeal effected real revivals, whether lasting or transitory I dare not say. Besides addressing public assemblies, he obtained leave to enter jails and preach reformation to the prisoners, apparently with good results. In spite of the extraordinary enthusiasm which he inspired and the honours thrust upon him in his triumphal progress, he preserved unstained and flawless, simplicity and humility of character. We are not wont to regard with favour errant monks preaching here and there. Too often their exhortations have tended to sedition, their liberty has been a cloak for licence. Never for a moment did the Ledi Sadaw fall under a shadow of suspicion as to the purity of his motives and conduct, or the good intention of his pilgrimage. The ethical part of his sermons consisted of fervent denunciations of intemperance, drinking, gambling, opium-smoking, the pleasant vices most devastating among Burmans. In no way inspired by any Government officer, he did not hold aloof from the authorities, but desired to be on good terms with them. Speaking to Colonel Maxwell, who more than most of us won the intimate confidence of Burmans, in all simplicity he said: ‘I am not sure that Government will approve my preaching. There will be much loss of revenue; for when I have finished, all liquor and opium shops will be closed for want of custom.’ With a clear conscience the Commissioner bade him go on and prosper, assuring him that Government would be well pleased if so desirable a result... A travelling set of the Buddhist scriptures was the only mark of Government's appreciation. I had the privilege of one interview with this extraordinary man. What chiefly impressed me was his weary expression, as though the working of the fiery spirit had worn out the frail tenement of the body. I am glad to hear that the Sadaw still lives, and that his preaching days are not over.”

"Falser than the Roman's conception of Britain..."

"No doubt Burma was regarded as a place of banishment, a dismal rice-swamp (or, as was once said, a howling paddy-plain), where the sun never shone. I remember, while still in London, the commiseration expressed with one of our seniors whose deportation to this dreary land was announced. All this was fiction, falser than the Roman's conception of Britain. I found Burma a bright and pleasant land, green and forest-clad, with a climate healthier on the whole than the average climate of Indian plains; its people singularly human, cheerful, and sympathetic."

Sir Herbert Thirkell White, A Civil Servant in Burma, 1913