Sometime ago I posted about the movie Mystic Ball and the sport of Chinlone. Chinlone is a traditional, non-competitive Burmese sport where players in a circle pass a cane ball around using elaborate kicks. 'Elaborate kicks' is really an understatement, though. What some of these men and women can do with that little ball is simply amazing.

The DVD of Mystic Ball is also now available for purchase through the website.

I had the good fortune after writing that blog post to actually see the movie Mystic Ball at the International Film Festival here in Portland. Greg Hamilton is not a professional film maker, but his clear earnestness and passion for Chinlone and Burma make the movie an engaging watch. It's also a unique opportunity to watch some great footage of the sport being played, and to see into the lives of the ordinary Burmese people who are keeping the tradition alive.

The following article was submitted by a reader and author of the fun and informative website Hella Delicious. Burma is a complex and wonderful country, and it's always great to learn something new about it. Other Burma Underground readers are also welcome to submit articles to be published here.

Golden Spice Lilly of the Golden Land
Renee Htein

An unexpected storm in the middle of the cold dry season caused havoc on the highway up the mountains to the Shan plateau. The large air-conditioned bus with its frozen passengers came to a halt. In the last few minutes before the sun rose I was advised to go to the toilet. “Why?” I asked, expecting to hear an explanation about how the first elimination of the day should be before the sun comes up to maintain a strong constitution. “Once the sun comes up everyone will see you, there are cars stopped on every bend, and who knows how long we will be here,” came the logical answer. I quickly found an especially dark spot to do my business.

As the sun rose I went to have a look at what had stopped the traffic. After passing about fifty huge buses and trucks, I reached the source of the problem. A truck overloaded with cabbages had tried to pass another large truck on a tight corner. It was lucky to still be on the road, the front left tire hung over a steep cliff which disappeared into the mist. People milled around, watching the trucks as if they were going to move themselves. I was soon envisioning being trapped on this red muddy road for days and decided to grab my small bag and head to the other side of the traffic jam. “That mile post does say only twenty miles to Kalaw,” I convinced myself, squinting at the Burmese numerals on the muddy mile post nearby. Another impatient young fellow opted to go with me. After a brief jungle treck we found ourselves being dropped off outside the central market in Kalaw, vastly relieved that a friendly pickup had given us a ride. The journey along the windy mountain road had been much longer than I imagined.   more »