More of a glorified village than anything else, Kalaw sits cupped within a high mountain valley flanked by pine tree-covered peaks. Like Pyin Oo Lwin, Kalaw was originally established as a British military outpost on the Shan frontier. But as the threat of insurrection on the Shan Plateau waned, Kalaw developed into a hot season retreat for British officialdom, as well as a market town along the Taunggyi train line. The surrounding hills, populated by an ethno-linguistic spectrum that includes Pa-O, Danu, Shan and Palaung, compliments a town of equally diverse composition. Where ever in Burma the British settled so grew communities from other colonies in the British Empire. Indians, Pakistanis, Bengalis, Nepalis established themselves in various crafts and services along side British-run resource extraction industries. Some of the migrants came to work as laborers in the industries themselves. One lifelong Kalaw resident spoke of nearby villages settled by ethnic Turks recruited by the British in the early 20th century to build the railroad. For all its physical smallness, Kalaw is one of the more culturally assorted places in Myanmar, if not all of Southeast Asia.
An operating cinema, however, it does not have. The remnants of two mark the low density city scape, but none can be said to provide entertainment any longer. The elder of the two cinemas, despite its lengthy stint of cessation and minimal external evidence of its former self, is quite a gem. Its name, Yadana, even translates as such.
January was apparently the wrong time of year to try to photograph the former Yadana Cinema, as direct sunlight never graced its north-facing facade.
Front door to the erstwhile Yadana, now a drinking pub called "Mr. Thumb's."
Kalaw's kaleidoscopic diversity helped spawn the Yadana Cinema, built in 1953 by a Persian Zoroaster businessman. Touted as a much admired denizen of Kalaw, with business acumen to match, the cinema showman left town and country shortly after the military coup and subsequent nationalization of movie theaters in 1962, settling with his family in Canada. During our visit, several of his daughters, now elderly women, made a trip to their birthplace for the first time since leaving. A stopover at the old family cinema hall was made, but we were unfortunately not able to arrange a meeting.
In the plasterwork just below the crown, Yadana can be seen spelled out in Burmese script. Below that, the barely visible romanized spelling of Yadana Cinema Hall has been chipped away.
What was once the lobby of the Yadana Cinema is now a drinking pub called Mr. Thumb's - a veritable dive specializing in Premiere League football broadcast via satellite. I spent an hour or so there nursing a Myanmar Beer, trying to pick out details of the cinema's former self. The only obvious leftover is a plaster molding on the wall reading Yadana, above which is the outline of poster box. One can only imagine the colorful movie posters tacked in that space during the 1950's, and the intrigue they must have inspired in the residents of this relatively remote outpost.
Plaster molding on the wall reading "Yadana" below where movie posters were once hung. The sign in the corner of the photo reads "To all partons: please do not rinse your mouth and spit it back in to beer mugs."The front half of the Yadana might bear scant evidence of its former self, but step into the back and the old auditorium will leave you with no doubts. Unused save for an annual New Years party held by Mr. Thumb, the auditorium of the Yadana is a blast from the past. It's not hard to imagine packed houses on chilly Kalaw nights, with captivated crowds, their myriad tongues collectively silenced by a spectacle unlike any other.
surrounding rural communities. As a young man in the 1950's this local notable was a regular at the Yadana. Jogging his long memory yielded vivid recollections of the film fair of his youth: Elia Kazan's "East of Eden," Cecil B. DeMille's "The 10 Commandments" and the epic "Ben Hur," directed by William Wyler, among others, all came to mind. Such forms nostalgia will be absent from today's generation of Kalaw youth as they reach their twilight years.