It was still dark outside when Myia quietly climbed out of bed, careful to not disturb Ma who was still sleeping. The room they shared was small but she was an expert at dressing in the dark without making a sound. She tugged on a t-shirt and a loose pair of trousers and tiptoed out the house, wincing at the creaking sound the bamboo door made as she pushed it open. Once out the house, Myia started to run. The sky was starting to brighten and by the time she reached the foot of the temple, a pink tinge was making its way across the sky. It wasn’t the tallest temple by far around here, but it was one of the only ones she could climb up and down before Ma woke up and began her morning nagging. Myia swung herself onto the ledge and started climbing.
Climbing was second nature to her. Her older brother Htun used to take her climbing and they’d spend hours trying to conquer temples. But now Htun was too busy working with Pa and Ma was determined that Myia spend every waking hour mastering all the skills that she thought a girl needed to know. To her great disappointment, Myia was terrible at everything. She would end up burning the pot but the food remained raw and her embroidered flowers resembled potatoes. But when Myia was climbing, she felt sure-footed and confident. Her feet finding the nooks and crannies she instinctively knew were there without even looking. Gravity never bothered her, instead a mystical effect happened. She felt as if she was being hauled up, her hands and feet finding the perfect positions for her to effortlessly pull herself higher and higher. She reached the top as pinks and reds streaked across the sky, lighting the sky on fire before fading to a soft golden glow. A mist settled between the tips of the temples and over all the surrounding greenery. In the distance she spotted Bupaya Temple, the tallest in Ananda, rising above all the others. Htun told her that once there were over five thousand monuments standing but over the centuries, most had been destroyed or had fallen into ruin. Up until five years ago, Ananda was a jungle of tangled vines and overgrown bushes, the tops of rusty orange coloured temples barely peaking through. It wasn’t until the King decided that fixing and constructing temples was how he would ensure a prosperous reign that masons and carpenters from all over the kingdom were sent to Ananda, including her father and brother. Myia stood looking out at the temples, stupas and pagodas that decorated the horizon. It was these moments of serenity that she loved the most but they never lasted long. The fog would scatter and as the sun began its ascent, the birds started their morning song. Ma would be up at any moment so she scurried down the temple and hurried back home.
Myia slipped through the door, praying that Ma was still asleep.
“Don’t worry, she’s not awake yet,” Htun was already in the kitchen eating breakfast, his mouth full of rice. He regarded her with a knowing look, “I see you were busy this morning.”
Myia stuck her tongue at him as she passed him. Ma was still under the covers when she returned to their room. She dug around the basket at the foot of her bed for appropriate clothes to change into and then struggled into an embroidered yellow blouse that buttoned up at the neck and a matching wrap skirt that fell to her ankles. She hastily wrapped it around her waist and tied a knot, the fabric bunched up around her tummy, and joined her brother outside.
“Did Pa leave already?” she asked.
“Just before you came back,” he said. “The King wants us to speed up the restoring process.”
Myia was swallowing the last bits of potato and rice when Ma walked into the kitchen, her long black hair perfectly pinned into a tight bun against her head, not a hair out of place. Myia unconsciously ran her fingers through her own tangled black hair. Htun gave her an encouraging look.
“Don’t get into too much trouble now,” he affectionately ruffled her hair. “Morning Ma, I’m off now.”
Ma’s ever-watchful gaze landed on her skirt. Instant disapproval radiated from her as she tutted and tsked, retying the skirt so that the knot was tucked neatly into the folds. She gave Myia’s tummy a smack.
“It’s too tight,” Myia complained.
“Then suck in.”
Everyday Ma and all the other women set up their little mats at popular temples where goods such as hand painted lacquerware and embroidered bags were sold for those who visited Ananda. Myia pulled at the embroidery on the hem of her blouse and tried to tuck her legs under her in the elegant sitting position that all the girls seemed to have mastered. The fabric was stiff, restricting any kind of knee movement and she could never find a comfortable position.
“Stop moving Myia,” Ma said, “if you stopped fidgeting so much you wouldn’t find it so uncomfortable.”
Myia sighed and kept her eyes on the little piece of fabric she was embroidering. Or attempting to anyways.
“… no one’s ever climbed to the top.”
Myia raised her head. Two boys were lying on the cold stone ground, relaxing in the shade. She kept her head down, continuing to sew but her interest was piqued.
“They said it’s impossible. Even if you’re only an arm’s length away from the base of the top, you’d still never reach it.”
“Maybe Bupaya was built to be unclimbable.”
“I’ll bet Chit can do it. I heard he’s gonna try again today.”
“MYIA!” Ma’s voice echoed through the halls. “What kind of atrocity is this?”
The boys looked up and snickered, Myia felt her face flush. Ma took the fabric from her, redoing the rows of stitches as she listed the mistakes. Myia nodded along obediently.
When Ma asked her to deliver dinner to Pa and Htun that evening, Myia took a detour on the way back and stopped by Bupaya. A group of boys were standing at the base of the temple. Myia hid in the trees and watched as boy after boy attempted to scale the temple, all failing at various points. One boy was better than the others, Chit, she assumed. She carefully observed the footholds and handholds that he reached for but eventually he climbed back down as well. Myia came out of hiding after everyone had left. She was preparing to hoist herself onto the ledge when she realized something. Her clothing. The blouse had sleeves so tight that she couldn’t even lift her hands above her head and her skirt didn’t allow her any exaggerated movements. She was constantly tripping over it too, her legs moving faster than the skirt allowed her to. She groaned inwardly. This would not do.
The next day Myia waited until Ma sent her to deliver dinner and made sure to bring a change of clothes. In looser clothing, she started to scale the temple, remembering the steps that Chit had taken. It wasn’t significantly more difficult than the temples she usually climbed but it was much taller and she had to take frequent breaks, wiping the sweat from her face. The setting sun eventually forced her to come back down.
Every day for a week, Myia came back and each time she got further before the sun set, until she found herself at an impasse, constantly stuck at the same point near the top. On the seventh day, she was almost at the top again but once again could find no niches except for one that was out of her reach. But maybe… her heart pounded. She’d never considered the possibility before but maybe she could reach it if she switched her grip midway. There’d be a moment where her feet would have nothing to rest against and she’d be in mid-air. It’d also take a significant amount of strength and agility to make the switch. Before she could talk herself out of it, Myia released her grip. For a brief second, her feet felt air but the next second her foot was securely nestled in a niche. The last push was easy and then she was at the top. Her eyes were wide, taking in the magnificent view. She’d never been this high before, there was only sky in front of her.
Myia was back again the next day and so were the boys. They were huddled around Chit who was drawing something in the dirt. She leaned in closer to get a better look.
“We’ve got ourselves a spy!” someone spotted her.
She hadn’t realized that she wasn’t in the cover of the trees anymore. All heads turned to her direction and she reluctantly stepped into the clearing.
“Are you lost?” Chit raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be with the other girls?”
“I’d like to try climbing,” her voice was quiet but determined.
The boy stared at her and Chit snickered. “Why don’t you go back to weaving and sewing?”
“I can do it,” she insisted.
“Girls can’t climb,” Chit said.
Myia looked at Chit’s insufferable arrogant expression and then at the boys around her, all wearing smug and knowing looks. She didn’t say another word but instead headed to the base of the temple. After a brief moment of hesitation, she swung a leg onto the ledge.
“She can’t be serious,” she heard Chit say.
She kept focused and let her muscle memory take over. Her body had memorized the steps from yesterday and she only paused to take momentary breaks, refusing to look down at the crowd below. That last bit wasn’t nearly as hard as yesterday and she actually welcomed the burst of adrenaline as she hung suspended in mid-air for a moment, she thought she heard gasps of disbelief. She stood at the top and waved to the boys below before climbing back down.
“That wasn’t too hard,” she said and was met with gap-mouthed stares.
“Maybe if you practice some more, you’ll get there one day,” she said innocently and strolled off, leaving Chit spluttering.
Myia skipped all the way home. Ma was washing the laundry in the yard and took in Myia’s disheveled and sweaty state, Myia’s hair was plastered to her neck and her clothes were rumpled and stained with dirt. She tried her best to look contrite.
“How many times have I told you to never wear those ratty clothes out the house?” Ma was appalled, “and what on earth have you been doing? I swear Myia, I don’t understand you…”
She nodded along as Ma continued her scolding but Myia wasn’t listening anymore. She could barely hold back her smile, her head was already somewhere else.