Bant Tone was nine years old when she was tattooed, and clearly remembers the pain of the day. She thought she was exceptionally pretty after she got her tattoo, and was pleased that she was now considered a woman. She also felt pride, as the other peoples of Myanmar were envious of her tribe’s tattooed faces. Photos: Dylan Goldby
Loo Phoe is the oldest of the tattoo-faced women, at 101. She believes strongly in her culture, and wishes that young people would hold onto it more tightly. However, she feels their tattoo culture is far too painful to continue. She is happy that it is over, but hopes that the world will remember her generation.
Sang Hone demonstrates the process of the now illegal tattooing on a leaf at her home in Rakhine state. In 1976, the ruling junta outlawed many traditions of Myanmar’s minority peoples. “We are the last generation of tattooed women,” says Sang Hone.
Sa Naing missed the military curfew for leaving her village when she went to have her tattoo done, and never got another chance. She remembers feeling a lot of pressure to get the tattoo, and being excluded from social events for not having it. “I wish I could still get the tattoo, but there are no living tattoo-makers now.”
Lai Tu social events are more often than not backed by music. Even the tradition of visiting a house to make friends is preceded by music to show that you come in good faith. The drum is used in all performances, and often accompanied by gongs and cymbals to make the rhythmic music that drives the traditional dances.
Specifically for women, the bamboo dance is performed in times of happiness such as a wedding or harvest festival. The clacking of the bamboo poles keeps the women in time as they dance their pattern without getting their feet caught, while the crowd sits mesmerised.
Even now, the Lai Tu people are mostly subsistence farmers. They live in remote areas and cultivate the hills and riversides near their villages. Rice and bamboo are grown extensively, with the latter being primarily exported down the Lemro River.
Farmers often use their head-strap bamboo baskets to carry their crops home. Here, a young girl collects pumpkin stalks for a common side dish to accompany rice. She lives in a hillside village, and as such has to collect crops while traversing steep terrain.
Ma Khin Soe demonstrates her traditional seated weaving technique. In the past, it was a prerequisite for marriage that a woman could weave, and the skill was used to make everything from mats and bags to the Lai Tu traditional clothing. Now, very few women still practise it, and most weaving is done to produce items for sale to the few tourists who visit the villages around Mrauk-U each year.
Chin traditional clothing was also outlawed for quite some time, and is now only used for celebration days. It is made from coarse-woven fabric and dyed with bright colours. The patterns represent each tribe within the Chin nation.
Pwae Koune knows she was tattooed at the age of 13. However, she is losing her memory and does not even recall how old she is now. Her face is a stunning example of the spider-web pattern of the Lai Tu Chin people. While many of the tattoos have faded with time, hers has remained in near-perfect condition over the years.
In pictures: the last tattoo-faced women of Myanmar’s Lai Tu Chin tribe
By recording the dying culture of the Lai Tu Chin in western Myanmar’s Rakhine state, author and photographer hopes not only to preserve it but to raise funds to improve lives of tribe’s members
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Asia travel
Updated: Monday, 27 Jun, 2016 8:00pm
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Bant Tone was nine years old when she was tattooed, and clearly remembers the pain of the day. She thought she was exceptionally pretty after she got her tattoo, and was pleased that she was now considered a woman. She also felt pride, as the other peoples of Myanmar were envious of her tribe’s tattooed faces. Photos: Dylan Goldby
Loo Phoe is the oldest of the tattoo-faced women, at 101. She believes strongly in her culture, and wishes that young people would hold onto it more tightly. However, she feels their tattoo culture is far too painful to continue. She is happy that it is over, but hopes that the world will remember her generation.
Sang Hone demonstrates the process of the now illegal tattooing on a leaf at her home in Rakhine state. In 1976, the ruling junta outlawed many traditions of Myanmar’s minority peoples. “We are the last generation of tattooed women,” says Sang Hone.
Sa Naing missed the military curfew for leaving her village when she went to have her tattoo done, and never got another chance. She remembers feeling a lot of pressure to get the tattoo, and being excluded from social events for not having it. “I wish I could still get the tattoo, but there are no living tattoo-makers now.”
Lai Tu social events are more often than not backed by music. Even the tradition of visiting a house to make friends is preceded by music to show that you come in good faith. The drum is used in all performances, and often accompanied by gongs and cymbals to make the rhythmic music that drives the traditional dances.
Specifically for women, the bamboo dance is performed in times of happiness such as a wedding or harvest festival. The clacking of the bamboo poles keeps the women in time as they dance their pattern without getting their feet caught, while the crowd sits mesmerised.
Even now, the Lai Tu people are mostly subsistence farmers. They live in remote areas and cultivate the hills and riversides near their villages. Rice and bamboo are grown extensively, with the latter being primarily exported down the Lemro River.
Farmers often use their head-strap bamboo baskets to carry their crops home. Here, a young girl collects pumpkin stalks for a common side dish to accompany rice. She lives in a hillside village, and as such has to collect crops while traversing steep terrain.
Ma Khin Soe demonstrates her traditional seated weaving technique. In the past, it was a prerequisite for marriage that a woman could weave, and the skill was used to make everything from mats and bags to the Lai Tu traditional clothing. Now, very few women still practise it, and most weaving is done to produce items for sale to the few tourists who visit the villages around Mrauk-U each year.
Chin traditional clothing was also outlawed for quite some time, and is now only used for celebration days. It is made from coarse-woven fabric and dyed with bright colours. The patterns represent each tribe within the Chin nation.
Pwae Koune knows she was tattooed at the age of 13. However, she is losing her memory and does not even recall how old she is now. Her face is a stunning example of the spider-web pattern of the Lai Tu Chin people. While many of the tattoos have faded with time, hers has remained in near-perfect condition over the years.
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