Myanmar's Celebrity Cats

Few places exude a greater air of otherworldly abandonment than the 155-year-old Phe Chaung monastery on the shores of the isolated lake in Inlay Lake in Myanmar.

That was before the world discovered the jumping cats.

The half-dozen Buddhist monks there used to train the monastery's resident cats to jump through hoops as a way of dealing with boredom. Now, they have little time for tranquil meditation as thousands of cat lovers from around the world come to see the trick.

Â"French, Germans, Italians, Japanese,Â" recites Kai Ti, the abbot. Â"For them, it's something you don't see every day. Some of them have done videos that made the jumping cats famous.Â"

A teak beam in the sanctuary is covered with tour company stickers, evidence of attempts by the cash-strapped military regime ruling Myanmar, also known as Burma, to end decades of isolation and woo tourist dollars.

But not just foreigners come. On a recent day, a squad of armed soldiers came to check security for the regional battalion commander, who was to visit later in the afternoon.

Cpl. Htay Hlaing was amazed by the leaping felines and, after several tries and a little help from a monk, got one to jump through a hoop.

Â"I love cats and have many cats at home, but I've never seen anything like this,Â" Htay Hlaing said.

Pulling up to the monastery dock on Inlay Lake, a water world in northeastern Myanmar where fisherman and farmers virtually live in their teak canoes, newcomers know they've got the right place.

A fine-boned, calico cat sits regally on the steps as a sort of welcoming committee. A couple of kittens sharpen their claws on the railing. Inside, two dozen felines scamper between Buddha images or wait impatiently for Kai Ti and his young acolytes to fill scattered feeding bowls.

One French guide always makes sure to bring flea powder and Friskies food to supplement the cats' normal diet -- usually, whatever is left from the begging bowls and an occasional lake fish.

Â"I've liked cats since I was young,Â" Kai Ti says. Â"I can't really say why I like cats so much, but I hate dogs.Â"

Kai Ti, 64, has been at the monastery for 40 years. Many years ago, three or four cats appeared and he began caring for them, feeding them with leftovers from his morning begging rounds.

One day, he was bored and began experimenting to see if he could get them to jump through a hoop.

The abbot motions a young acolyte to demonstrate.

Getting a kitten to stand still, he lifts it up and down gently under the chin and stomach three times, then makes his arms into a circle a few inches off the floor.

The kitten jumps over and is rewarded with a bit of fish.

Then the monk takes an adult cat and holds an eight-inch hoop about three feet off the floor. The cat easily hops through. All the cats, who are descended from the original group, can jump, Kai Ti said.

Cauht up in the celebrity, the monks have started giving the cats names: Leonardo DiCaprio, Madonna, Demi Moore, Marilyn Monroe, Diana.

The temple contains true treasures -- lacquerware Buddhas covered in gold leaf, for example, that are rare antiques. Visitors usually leave donations, but the generosity rarely seems spiritually motivated.

Â"Nobody comes to look at the Buddhas,Â" Kai Ti grumbles. Â"Nobody ever asks about Buddhism. They just want to see the cats.Â"

©1999 The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed