Aung Naing Oo Dec 24, 2006 (DVB)桰t was December 1988, three months after our unexpected, life-changing exodus from the cities to the jungle after the September military coup. Ideas of regrouping and fighting back against the army following the failed democracy uprising remained pipe dreams. The Karen rebels, who had fought the military for decades, did not trust the new arrivals in their area. Contrary to rumours we had in the city, weapons were hard to come by. There were only a few homemade guns the group from Mudon brought to the jungle and a few old rifles Major Robertson, a sympathetic Karen officer, had given us. So military training for the thousand plus residents of Camp Thay Baw Boe was conducted with wooden sticks. Meanwhile, malaria was extracting a heavy toll on the city-dwellers turned freedom-fighters, who were battling the mosquito-borne disease before they even realised the army had driven them into the jungle. The hospital was full of patients, medicine was scarce and fights often broke out between staff and disgruntled sufferers. It was utter chaos. There were no rules or regulations. People were fed up with their elected camp committees, so there were fresh elections all the time. But camp residents were proud to have introduced 揹irect democracy?by choosing the camp leader or the committee by vocal vote. There was not much to do except fell trees for charcoal. Camp residents sold the charcoal to the Thais across the border and used the money to supplement their meat intake or buy 慾ungle juice挆Karen villagers?home-made booze. Our favourite pastime was to spend hours at the camp teashop. Then in mid-December, with Christmas about two weeks away, someone in our group came up with the idea of carol singing. We were in the mostly Christian Karens?territory, but we were Buddhists. I did not know a single song about Jesus, although I could play a few songs on a guitar. Despite being bored, I was against the idea as it would be inappropriate to pretend to be Christians. But my friend was adamant, saying one among us was in fact a Christian. 揜ubbish,?I said. I knew the guy. His name was Htay Oo and he was from Pegu. The guy was a farce梐 pure Buddhist梩hough I had to admit I did not know whether he had converted to Christianity or not. I could not resist after Htay Oo, the new convert or would-be Christian, showed up with a bible in his hand. It was written in Karen, so clearly he could not understand it. Apparently, he had borrowed it from a Karen house in a nearby village. What was important was that he seemed to know what he was doing. None of us knew any Christmas songs; we had not heard of 揓ingle bells? 揙 Christmas tree?or 揓esus was born on Christmas Day.?My own exposure to Christianity had only been a few prayer meetings that I had attended with my Karen classmates back in Rangoon. Nonetheless, I was asked to figure out what to sing based on one single criterion梩hat I studied English literature at the university. Somehow, my friends associated the English language with Christianity. Min Naing, a jack-of-all-trades, also from Pegu, helped me. We thought of a few songs that we knew, rewrote the lyrics and tried them with the guitar. One of our favourites was Playboy Than Naing抯 揑 have seen the most beautiful girl.?It became, 揥e have seen God.? The idea was original and the lyrics were refreshing. All of a sudden, we were convinced of our potential as songwriters. Of course, my experience with prayer meetings helped. We also learned a very short Karen song. After two or three days of rewriting songs and practicing, we were ready. We started by regaling few Karen houses not far from the camp with our songs. They weren抰 hits but the trials went well and we collected some money. Suddenly we felt like we no longer needed to make charcoal. We perfected our trade as we carolled along. At every house, Htay Oo led us saying, 揗erry Christmas to you all!? The Karen knew we were not Christians. Htay Oo was a very new Christian and did not know much about Christianity. By this time, his pretence of being a Christian was long gone but we all agreed that he should continue to carry the bible. In Wawlay, the headquarters of the Karen National Union抯 6th Bridge, an older Karen woman asked us to sing a quartet. We did not know if it had anything to do with Christmas. No one except me knew its meaning. I mumbled my words and everyone looked at me. Then she said, 揌ow about a duet??When she saw the expression on our faces, she said, 揝ing me any song.? My friends encouraged me to sing, 揥ho抣l stop the rain.?Spurred on by the jungle juice I had earlier, I accepted the encouragement. It was a disaster. The key was too high and when I got to the chorus I could not sing anymore. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. Eventually, we reverted to the good old, 揑 have seen God.?Despite our mishap, the lady turned out to be the most generous. In Wawlay we also found out that one of us梐 history major student梒ould not pronounce 慍hristmas? I was informed of his speech deficiency, but since we called, 揗erry Christmas,?in unison we could not hear distinctly what he was saying so I stood beside him after a song. He said, 揗erry 慓istmas?to you all!? After 10 days or so of carol singing, we collected about 5000 baht. But we did not know what do with the money since it was not intended for the local church or any charity. We felt guilty so we decided to throw a Christmas party. Christmas is, after all, about giving and we wanted to give back what we had earned. We bought a pig and invited soldiers from Major Robertson抯 detachment梐n ensemble of unwanted soldiers from various Karen battalions and disparate ethnic and international volunteers, including a few French and Japanese梩o join us. As a prime character in this initiative, I got a prime cut of two legs from the pork dinner. San Lin, who initiated the Christmas party, cooked for us. It was the best meal I ever had, with the help of jungle juice from a nearby village. Our friend with the speech deficiency later left the jungle for reasons I don抰 recall. He was one of many who returned to the city due to malaria, uncertainty, chaos and infighting. Borders and the military now divide us and keep us from the many people we love. Yet in this winter chill, we are warmed by the memories of the camaraderie, good times, the love we shared and the hope of a reunion some day. Merry 慓istmas?to you all!

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