By KAY LATT
The Irrawaddy
February 7, 2008 - “I’ve got a better idea,” the barber says. “Let’s create a blog for Daw Suu, so she can get the word out to the world!”
“I wish I were a blogger,” says Maung Kaung, sitting in the barber’s chair.
“Why?” asks the barber as he trims away at the back of his client’s head.
“A blogger can write anything he wants and everyone can read it,” states Maung Kaung assertively.
The barber pauses for a minute, looking in the mirror. “What is a blog anyway? I really don’t get it,” he whispers.
U Toke Kyee has been sitting on the barber’s bench reading a journal. Now he jumps into the conversation: “Oh barber, you are too out of date to understand! A blog is just a space in the Internet where you can create your own world.”
The barber looks up and nods happily. “I like the sound of that,” he says. “Maybe I’ll create a blog. How much does it cost to do it?”
“Perhaps as much as a long sentence in Insein Prison,” mutters Maung Kaung under his breath.
But the barber’s eyes are still sparkling as he looks up at the ceiling: “No, no. I just want to share all my experiences with people around the world,” he says. “Friends I have never even met.”
Maung Kaung and U Toke Kyee fall silent, lost in thought.
The barber muses happily and starts shaving Maung Kaung’s neck. He looks happy again.
“I’ve got a better idea,” he says finally. “Let’s create a blog for Daw Suu, so she can get the word out to the world!”
U Toke Kyee puts down his newspaper. “That’s not a bad idea, barber,” he replies. “Then they could stop taking her back and forth to that government guest house; and she wouldn’t have to slip messages to that great oaf Gambari in order to get a speech out.”
“But who’s going to volunteer to be Suu Kyi’s secret blogger?” asks Maung Kaung.
The barber responds quickly: “Why not you? You said you wanted to be a blogger. You could find a job inside Suu Kyi’s compound and start getting her messages out to the world!”
Maung Kaung shifts uncomfortably in the seat: “But there’s no Internet access in Daw Suu’s house; and there’s no telephone line either.”
U Toke Kyee raises a finger and exclaims: “Ah! But you could use the wireless network from the new US embassy—it’s on the same street.”
Maung Kaung shakes his head: “No. It would never be permitted. And another problem is electricity. It’s only on for six hours a day.”
The barber ponders a minute while he snips the hair from his customer’s nostrils.
“No problem, old boy,” he states. “We’ll send in some batteries every day.”
Maung Kaung checks his shaved face in the mirror and rubs his chin, admiring how smooth it feels. He thinks for a minute and responds: “The best solution is to get Daw Suu to move to Naypyidaw. Then she will have access to telephone lines and wireless and everything.”
“Yeah,” mutters the barber. “And also, the generals could get her to live next door and stop worrying about US missiles raining down on them!”
Source: The Irrawaddy News - (www.irrawaddy.org)
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