Children escape the heat at Peik Chin Myaung cave. Pic: Minh Zaw

WE turn off the highway from Pyin Oo Lwin to Hsipaw at the village of Wetwun and tumble along the bone-jarring dirt road, holding on to the sides of our pick-up. Fields of vegetables cover the hills on both sides with limestone cliffs tower in the background.

About 5 kilometres later we arrive at Peik Chin Myaung cave, also known as Maha Nandamu, 19km east of Pyin Oo Lwin. In a clearing, stalls are selling typical Pyin Oo Lwin produce – jam, wine and tacky t-shirts.

We head over to a tea shop for a taste of the local wine. It’s a curious beast, almost unrecognisable from what most Westerners would consider wine and is made from either grapes, strawberries or damson – and I suspect sometimes all three. We tried the damson wine – sweet and carbonated, it was almost like cider but packed a more hefty punch, around 14 percent ABV.

Sharing a glass of the local wine. Pic: Myint Soe

Behind the teashop, water can be heard cascading from the mouth of the cave, a short walk upstream. The torrent has over time worn away the rock in front of the cave, forming small pools of deep water that in the warm sun are full of children and families splashing around.

Inside the cave the air is cool and wet but somewhat stuffy, despite the lack of tourists. It must be almost unbearable during Water Festival when the cave is often full of pilgrims, who take home the water that gushes from faults in the cave walls.

The crashing waves echo up and down the pathway, which is flanked by stalactites and stalagmites – smoothed and stained green by the water that has slowly shaped them over thousands of years.

The cave is supposedly the largest in Myanmar – stretching for about 1900 feet or 600 metres – and was “discovered” in 1988 by a hunter, we are told by a pagoda trustee.

When it was being explored, ancient Buddha images were found; these are now safely housed in a museum, he assures us.

Visitors pass Buddha image after Buddha image, which depict scenes in the Buddha’s life before he attained Enlightenment. I’m told most of the images have been “donated by the leaders and family members of the present government”.

For many Westerners, I suspect, the gilded Buddha images, concrete elephants and deer and the fake trees with their tin leaves (tap them for a nice metallic sound) create a strange atmosphere in Peik Chin Myaung cave.
The kitschness, while unintentional, is overbearing. It is certainly far removed from the atmosphere in most Western religious buildings.

The cave culminates in a small stupa but behind it you can actually see the cave continues, disappearing into inky blackness. The trustee, seated nearby, informs us that a lack of oxygen has prevented further surveying into the cave’s depths, lending the whole thing an air of mystery.

He directs us to a spot where, gazing upwards, a small hole is visible, drilled by the Ministry of Construction to let in the precious oxygen for visitors.
Retracing our steps, we notice small piles of rocks arranged into pyramidal shapes on the sandy areas of the cave floor. They’re small stupas built by pilgrims.

My Myanmar companion tells me that in Buddhism the act of building a Stupa is rewarded with merit but, given the cost, it’s something most people don’t have the opportunity to do.

Instead, pilgrims create these small rock stupas, which dot the cave floor and are in stark contrast to the garish, gilded Buddha images that line the cave’s corridors. They are a sign of life in a pagoda full of concrete animals and trees.
Not made for personal glory, the stupas have no name beside them. The builder will not be known as a paya daga (pagoda disciple) or kyaung daga (monastery disciple).

My friend assures me it does not matter. A deed can only be meritorious if the intention is good and if you expect nothing in return. It’s not the size of your stupa but what you do with it.