In the past three weeks, Ye, 37, has taken more pictures of Aung San Suu Kyi than in his 19 years of tattooing.
“We love and respect her because she sacrificed so much for us,” he says, showing a photo of his latest artwork – a realistic depiction of the deposed leader from Myanmar, complete with jasmine flowers, on a woman’s back.
If fans of the Nobel winner were on the fence about getting a tattoo in their honor before the February 1 military coup, they are no longer. Studios across the country have reported an increase in Aung San Suu Kyi ink – and some are using their profits to support the protest movement.
Aung San Suu Kyi, 75, remains in detention, facing charges of illegal importation of walkie talkies and violation of Myanmar’s natural disaster law. She faces up to three years in prison, with a court hearing set for March 1.
Although she remains loved within Myanmar, her international reputation was irrevocably tarnished when she traveled to the international court of justice in The Hague to defend the army against charges that she had committed genocide against Rohingya Muslims. Some say she was walking the tightrope with the generals to preserve an incipient democracy – in this sense, this is the downfall. Others labeled her a military apologist whose idea of equality is insufficient for the persecuted minorities.
Whatever happens to the leader, he will leave a complex legacy. But in Myanmar’s commercial capital, Yangon – home to major pro-democracy rallies in recent days – the picture is clearer.
“I don’t even have my parents’ tattoos,” said Hlaing, 32, who described the stroke as more painful than the six hours it took to complete his tribute to Aung San Suu Kyi on February 3. “I felt wronged and overwhelmed, I had to understand.”
Ye, who is working on a new project by Aung San Suu Kyi, collected donations for the country’s civil disobedience movement, which aims to deprive the military of a functional administration through attacks across the country.
“The military plans to arrest her so that she is older, just as they did before,” he says. “If they didn’t arrest her for 15 years, our country would be more developed, but the military knows all about it.”
Tattooing has been a part of Myanmar culture for centuries. Shan men in the northeast wore designs from the waist to the knees to symbolize virility, while in Chin state, elderly women still exhibit the disappearing tradition of facial tattoos. Some believe that the correct representations can offer magical protection.
But the practice of tattooing was banned during British counterinsurgency in the 1930s and returned to the mainstream only during the political and economic reforms of 2011.
In Mandalay, tattooist Za responded to the scam by painting drawings by Aung San Suu Kyi for free, until February 15, when he started charging $ 3.50 (£ 2.50). So far, he has completed about 70 and all the money raised went to striking government officials and others who resist the junta, he said.
“Just yesterday I spent the whole time getting her tattoos,” he says. “More people are doing it and that has allowed us to support the movement.”
While getting their tattoos done, most clients talk about the scam and gossip about those who are not joining the civil disobedience movement.
“Conversations never end,” he says.
Tin, a professional fighter, escaped a visit to a tattoo parlor in Yangon between training sessions for lethwei, an ancient sport. He doesn’t care much about the leader’s party, the National League for Democracy, he said. Only for the woman that the country affectionately calls “Mother Suu”.
“I did this to express my faith in her and my support for her,” he says. “I don’t care if it gets me in trouble with the regime one day.”