A veteran of Myanmar’s traditional sport says that having the ability to control the constantly rising and falling rattan chinlone ball instills patience.
Win Tint, 74, says, “Once you start playing the game, you forget everything.”
You focus solely on your style and not on your touch.
The national game of Myanmar, Chinlone, dates back a long time. It is frequently accompanied by music and features a fusion of sport and art, with both men and women typically performing in distinctive ways.
In a game of “keepy-uppy,” teams of men form a circle, passing the ball among themselves using stylized foot, knee, and head movements with an unmistakable scoring formula.
Women, in contrast, play solo in a manner reminiscent of circus shows, rolling tightropes, spinning umbrellas, and balancing on chairs slung high on beer bottles.
With the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, followed by the military coup of 2021 and the subsequent civil conflict, participation has decreased in recent years.
The supply of the materials for the balls is growing, and artisans are finding it harder to source.
Caneball, a hands-free sport, is practiced frequently throughout Southeast Asia.
In the volleyball-style game “sepak takraw” in Thailand, Malaysia, and Indonesia, players send the ball over the net using their feet and heads.
It is known as “kataw,” while Filipinos practice the laos game with “sipa,” which means kick.
In parks, it is common to see people in China kick weighted shuttlecocks.
According to some, Myanmar’s version dates back 1,500 years.
A French archaeologist discovered a replica silver chinlone ball at a pagoda from 200 BC to 900 AD, which demonstrates its longevity.
The original purpose of the game was to provide royal entertainment as well as a casual pastime.
However, as part of efforts to define Myanmar’s national culture after its independence from Britain, formal rules and a scoring system were added in 1953.
According to player Min Naing, 42, “No one will preserve Myanmar’s traditional heritage unless the Myanmar people do it.”
Players continue to gather beneath motorway flyovers, around wartime blackouts, and on purpose-made chinlone courts, which are frequently open-sided metal sheds with concrete floors.
While working in a sweltering workshop in Hinthada, 110 kilometers (68 miles) northwest of Yangon, master chinlone ball maker Pe Thein says, “I worry about this sport disappearing.”
“That’s the reason we’re passing it on through our hands.”
Men who are shave cane from their legs into strips, curve them with a hand crank, and skillfully shape them into pentagonal holes-sized balls before boiling them in pots of water to increase their durability.
The 64-year-old Pe Thein says, “We check our chinlone’s quality as if we’re checking diamonds or gemstones.”
It respects us back as we do the Chinese, it does the same.
Maung Kaw, the business owner, receives $2.40 from each ball after about two hours of production.
However, he is obtaining a lot of the premium rattan from the western Myanmar state of Rakhine.
Supplies are now in danger due to fierce fighting between military forces and opposition groups, which currently control nearly all of the state.
Source: Aljazeera
Leave a Reply