Myanmar folklore is full of strange beings: we have mythical creatures who combine parts from as many as five different animals, we have flying half-man half bird people who live for thousands of years, we have Nat Spirits in abundance. There is one spirit that young girls like to play with much like a ouija board. Only girls can play, however. At the presence of a male, even someone in the next room, she disappears. The reason is that she hated men and would not tolerate the presence of even the youngest boy.

Her story goes like this: a long long time ago, her name was Ma Aung Phyu. She lived in a village, and her husband went away for a trip leaving her pregnant. Near her birth, she decided to look for him and traveled alone, carrying a bundle of possessions on her head.

Now she came to a city where the king was building a pagoda, but the top kept tumbling down. The astrologers told him that a pregnant lady with a name starting with ‘a’ (which means she was born on a Sunday) must be buried alive so that the pagoda could be successfully built. Hearing this news, all the Sunday-born ladies had fled the city, or lied about their names when asked. Ma Aung Phyu, a stranger, did not know of this and told her name correctly when asked. So she was buried alive, cursing the king, the astrologers and her husband who had left her.

The way the girls, even now, play with her is this: they would roll up a reed mat, tie it firmly so that it would not come apart, and then they will dress it up. Usually older ladies have hair switches to thicken their chignons, so grandmother’s hair-piece is stolen for the afternoon and tied to the top end. A longyi is wrapped around the middle. A jacket is pinned around the top. Finally, a face is drawn in charcoal, with lips painted in red lipstick. Now she is ready, but Ma Aung Phyu must be invited.

A mirror and a kyauk-pyin (the stone mortar to grind the bark make-up paste) is placed in front of the upright roll of mat. Girls hold it off the floor by their fingers. One of them will chant,

“Please, Lady Aung Phyu, please come to us.”

She will repeat it until they all sense a weight in the mat they are holding up, much heavier than before.

“Please sway to show us you are here,” another girl would request, and the rolled mat will sway from side to side.

“Please look in the mirror,” someone will say, and the mat will lean towards the mirror.

Then the girls will ask questions: if I will pass my exams please lean to the left. If my boyfriend truly loves me, twirl three times. If I will marry my boyfriend, sway back to front.

The Lady Aung Phyu may hate men but she will answer questions about the girls’ love life. The swaying and the movement of the rolled mat are impossible to have been manipulated by the girls. Finally, they can politely request the Lady to leave, unroll the mat and end the game.

Or, if a boy comes near, the Lady will leave abruptly and the rolled mat will stand in the girls fingers, once again an inert thing, no longer possessed by a man-hating spirit.