Candle Festival

Candle Festival

Ubon Ratchathani

The Candle Festival ushers in the start of Buddhist Lent in Thailand, also called the Buddhist Rains Retreat. It begins on the day of khao phansa (literally, “entering the rainy season”) and lasts for three lunar months. This year, it began on July 12.

The candle festival tradition goes back to an event in the Buddha's life: Seeing that monks wandering outside the temple compound during the rainy season might easily step on newly planted crops or accidentally kill insects, he proclaimed that they should study and meditate within the monasteries instead. They must spend the night in the same temple each day during the three-month period, which restricts their movements to collect alms, so Buddhists bring them gifts of food and other necessities of daily life. In earlier times, candles were important gifts, since they were the primary source of indoor light. The practice of making large, ornate candle sculptures depicting stories from the Buddha’s life evolved from this practice.

The most famous candle festival in Thailand takes place in Ubon Ratchathani in northeastern Thailand. The sculptures are hard to photograph because of their size, the plethora of figures on each one, and the complexity of detail. My knowledge of Buddhist stories is essentially nil, so I can’t identify the figures or events, but maybe the photos will give you an idea of the variety of the sculptures and the skill of the artists who carve them.  Here are two parts of an entourage led by a demon; he is followed by what appears to be a pack of slave drivers. 

The sculpture below features horses and chariots:

And here is one headed by an eagle leading a whole menagerie of mythical and realistic animals:

 The above pictures were taken the night before the parade, “backstage,” where floats and marchers were lined up along several streets, patiently waiting for instructions. Here are some pictures taken during the parade the next day.  The two below are parts of a sculpture that made great use of color: 

And another that uses a range of colors:

Besides the sheer size and complexity of the candle sculptures and the incredible attention to detail, what struck me most was how similar the images are from one candle to the next. That is, the demons on one candle have the same features as the demons on the next one; the horses, women in armor, men in helmets, Buddha images and other figures all look very much alike -- at least, to my outsider's eye.

Of course, the parade didn't consist solely of candle sculptures. There were many dancers, musicians, and other performers who waited with admirable fortitude in the nearly 100-degree heat for their group to move ahead. Here is a short video to show you what I mean -- these dancers had been waiting for perhaps 20 minutes, but kept their smiles beautifully when the procession started to move forward again:

The dancers in the video exemplify the pride that Thais take in maintaining their cultural traditions and sharing them with others. This is true not only of adults but of students as well -- at least, the students at both my schools participate willingly and competently in every traditional event or performance that comes along. I see it as one more facet of the collectivist culture.

Besides parades to display the candles, which are then presented to the temple, the festival in Ubon Ratchathani featured street markets, carnival rides, and vendors hawking a large variety of wares. My PC volunteer friends and I were stopped numerous times by gaggles of students wanting to interview us – apparently most of the local English teachers had given the same assignment for the weekend, because all the students asked the same questions. Here is one of our group being interviewed:

Just for giggles, a friend and I rode the ferris wheel. Here's a picture I took from my seat, and one of the sunset as seen from the top of the ride. 

I guess you had to be there . . .

 

The Ubon Ratchathani Candle Festival deserves its reputation as one of the premier festivals in Thailand.

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P.S. Walking home from school after writing this post, I was caught in a downpour and spent about 20 minutes under an awning waiting for the rain to subside. Also under the awning, for the same reason, were a woman who works at the temple next to the school, several construction workers who are renovating a building, and a few monks. After a few minutes, I thought I smelled incense. Then, glancing around the group, I realized: No, that monk is smoking weed. Ah, Thailand!

Asarnha Bucha

Asarnha Bucha and

The Start of Buddhist Lent

Asarnha Bucha Day is a Theraveda Buddhist observance that commemorates the Buddha’s first sermon. It is a public holiday in Thailand, celebrated on the full moon day of the eighth lunar month, the day the Buddha delivered the sermon. This year it was on July 11^th.  Since schools are closed on public holidays, our school celebrated the day before.

Asarnha Bucha is observed by praying, listening to sermons, and bringing gifts to temples. The students and teachers at our school worked hard to prepare two large candles and two money trees, to be delivered to two temples in our district. Here they are on the day before the event.

In the morning, the candles were loaded onto pickup trucks, to be driven through the village as a mini-parade before being delivered.

Children in traditional Thai costumes or other finery rode on the trucks too. As you can see, the little girl second from right in the first photo (below, left) wasn’t happy about her starring role in the parade; she pouted the entire time. It was hot -- who could blame her.

Boys with drums rode in a third pickup truck.

 The trucks were driven slowly along the village streets, with students walking along beside. I rode in one of the pickup trucks . I offered to walk with the students but was told in no uncertain terms to stay in the vehicle. I’m not sure whether this was out of consideration for my advanced age or, possibly, because I might have drawn attention away from the students. Carrying branches to add to the money trees, they stopped at houses and stores along the way asking for donations. Usually these came in the form of 20-baht bills inserted into the slots in the branches, but occasionally there were larger bills as well.

After the village had been thoroughly canvassed, it was time to deliver the candles and money. One delivery was to Wat Trakam-en, the temple for our Tambon (a subdivision of a district).  Here are pictures of students kneeling with gifts and offering gifts to monks.

After the gifts had been presented and the monk had chanted prayers, we counted the money from the money tree.  It came to more than 10,000 baht. My co-teacher told me that the monk returned the money to the students, for the school. Of course the students were very proud and gratified.

Next, the second candle and the other money tree were delivered to Wat Rang Krathai – the temple with the bunnies out in front, adjacent to our school.  Here are a couple of pictures of students kneeling to offer the gifts. You can see that the walls of the temple are brightly painted with images from the life of the Buddha – one of the more colorful and beautiful temple interiors I’ve seen.

This time, I didn’t stay to help count the money. Again, the funds were returned to the students, for the school, in what is apparently an annual tradition, one that creates a strong sense of belonging and, no doubt, loyalty to both the school and the temple.

Wai Kruu 2014

Wai Kruu 2014

At Ban Rang Krathai School

Last year I wrote about Wai Kruu Day at my school in Northeastern Thailand, but didn’t have pictures of my own to publish. This year, at my new school, I made sure to remedy that.

Ban Rang Krathai School is smaller than my previous school. It has about 200 students and only goes through 9^th grade. The students assembled in the school cafeteria.  Here is a picture of the banner announcing the event (Wai Kruu Day, 5 June 2014), followed by a picture of the students waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Below, you see students with the bouquets they will present to the school principal. The two kindergartners in the front row were such troopers about holding their bouquets upright until it was their turn to go forward. In the other picture you see the school principal accepting a bouquet and patting the little boy’s cheek. The kindergarten teacher is on her knees behind the children, having accompanied them to the front of the room so they would know what to do.

In the video below, you see two students performing the deep wai, then continuing on their knees to present their bouquet to the principal before moving around the half-circle of teachers, still on their knees.

 Even after living in Thailand for a year and a half, I still feel uncomfortable watching the students walk on their knees.  They are used to it, of course – they must walk on their knees in the temple too, when presenting gifts to the monks on Buddhist holidays and other occasions.  Knee-walking can be pretty uncomfortable. I winced watching boys trying to pull the legs of their shorts down far enough to protect their skinned knees.  I winced again seeing the little girl who uses a walker on her hands and knees, being half-dragged by other students to bow to each teacher.  She was smiling though – glad to be doing what everyone else was doing.

Wai Kruu is one of many Thai traditions that cement relations within communities and reinforce a collective identity.

To conclude with a different perspective, here is a picture of Kem (which means “salt”), one of the dogs belonging to my host family. She accompanies my host sister and me to school every day, and tries to hang out near one of us. She was neither impressed nor put off by Wai Kruu.

A Funeral in July

A Funeral in July

The mother of one of my co-teachers died unexpectedly. A week elapsed between the time of death and the cremation, on a date deemed by the monks to be auspicious. I participated in two mourning rituals, a service at my co-teacher’s home early in the week, and the service on the day of the cremation several days later.

I don’t have pictures from the service at my colleague’s home, thinking it wouldn’t be appropriate to take pictures at such an event. Soon after we arrived at the house, an evening meal was served, good ordinary Thai food, no special funerary foods as far as I could tell. Chairs were set up under an awning. We waited about an hour and a half for the monks to arrive. They chanted, the deceased woman’s husband made some remarks, and the monks chanted some more. Then the monks went inside the house, to the small altar at the end of a large room. Different groups of people went in and came out. I went in with my school principal and a few other colleagues when it was our turn. We kneeled, presented gifts to the monks, and bowed. I can’t remember if they chanted again. Soon after we came out of the room, the service seemed to be over and we went home.

The cremation was on a Thursday afternoon at this small building. It looks like a small temple, which I suppose it is, but it is also a crematorium.

The service was held in this space – I’m not sure what to call it. It’s a large meeting room with windows on three sides.

 The head monk who performed the main chant sat on (not at) the table you see at the front. The other monks (8 of them) sat on the window seat to the right. The vase of paper flowers were an opportunity to give money – you insert a bill into a slit in the flower stem. Again, there was a wait for the monks to arrive. While we waited, a group of musicians played twice – a drum, a trombone, two cornets, and cymbals. The music was loud, cacophonous and so terribly sad that I wanted to cry.

Students from our school were offering glasses of water on trays. Several electric fans were working to move the air, if not cool it. After the monks had finished chanting, there was another wait for the coffin to arrive and be carried up into the crematorium. It arrived on this wagon.

We were all given paper flowers to lay next to the coffin as we filed past. After that, most people left. We waited until we saw the smoke coming out of the chimney.

Thainapped in Chantaburi

Thainapped in Chantaburi

Last weekend I had an experience of Thainapping, the word that Peace Corps volunteers use when hustled off somewhere by Thai friends on short notice, usually without explaining where or why.  My host sister had told me we were going “to the sea” on Saturday.  Okay, I said, sounds good.  Shortly before we left she mentioned that we’d be staying over one night, so I stuffed pajamas and a clean skirt into my bag. With my host sister and me, there were six of us in Kruu Thanchanok’s Mitsubishi Triton Plus. It was a tight fit for the four in the back seat. We coped by taking turns scooting forward so the person next to us could lean back.

We headed south via Bangkok and down through Chonburi Province, where our first stop was Pattaya, one of Thailand’s most popular beach resort towns. But we didn’t go to the beach. My travelling companions wanted to go to “Paradise,” which bills itself as The World’s Largest Art Illusion Museum. It gives visitors almost unlimited photo ops with images of famous people, places, and works of art.  Below are just a few examples; you get the idea. If you’re on Facebook, you’ve seen some of these photos already.

Me and Host Sister, Kwanta

Kruu Jiraporn, Kruu Yupin, and me

Camel Ride

It's not a mirror . . . 

Bird Woman

After“Paradise,” we went to the so-called floating market – many cities have these. They aren’t really floating, but constructed on bridges and piers over the water. From there, we headed further south through Rayong Province, where we did stop at a beach. There are many jettys such as the one in the photo below, so you can walk out to get great views in all directions.

Kruu Ampai taking photo of Kruu Thanchanok

Sadly, the views of the beach also included an over-abundance of litter, mostly plastic bags, as you can see in the next picture.

But it was getting late and the sun soon went down, so the litter was out of sight. Here are a couple of photos of the sunset, taken from the table where we had dinner outdoors, with delicious food from a street vendor.

Sunset in Rayong

After dinner we drove about 3 more hours to our destination in Chantaburi Province. Somewhere along the way I had learned that the niece of Kruu Jiraporn was getting married on Sunday and we were going to the wedding. We spent the night at a nice mountain resort, our rooms presumably paid for by the bride's family. 
Here are a few pictures from the balcony.

Balcony outside my window

View from balcony

This guy held out the hope of coffee, but alas, he was just another photo op, as you can see with Kruu Ampai. The coffee shop was closed.

 The wedding was at the home of the bride’s parents. When we got there, everyone was eating breakfast (without coffee) – a meal for those who’d had to get up really early, and also to keep us occupied until the wedding started at about 9:30am. 

This wedding included a ritual I had read about but not seen before: The bride and groom must pass through lines of people holding little chains to block their way, and the groom must “pay” to be allowed to pass.

Children holding chain

Jiraporn and me holding a chain

It’s hard to see in the photo, but he’s handing me a red envelope with 100 baht inside. (30 baht = $1 US)

Inside the house, other rituals took place, to formalize the marital union and convey blessings and good wishes from the families and friends. The ritual pictured below was fun to watch.  You can see that the man in the picture below has fanned out 1000-baht bills to form a wreath on the floor.

Next, he spreads out gold chains and hoops in the circle; the groom will later put the chains around the bride’s neck.The woman in the white lace blouse to his left is the wedding planner, keeping a watchful eye on everything.

In the next video, one of the grandmothers sprinkles flowers, rice, and tua ngawk (mung beans) over the whole thing, so that all together, it represents wealth, love and commitment, good health, and many children.

Below is a picture of the wedding banquet, which included the usual six courses and bottles of Hong Thong (whiskey) on each table (we didn’t partake). Since most every dish had meat in it, I took the opportunity to work on my chopstick skills (which are lame at best) by picking up peanuts, one at a time, from the seafood salad appetizer. (There’s no video of me doing this, you’ll be glad to know).

The bride and groom making the rounds of tables

After the wedding, which ended before noon, we were invited to visit the fruit orchard owned by Kruu Jiraporn’s family. They raise durian and rambutan. Durian (or turian in Thai) is a fruit that seems to have worked very hard to evolve a form that will deter people and animals from eating it. You can see one hanging from the tree in the picture below.

Hold it carefully.

And on the left you see the owner holding a durian by its stem, to keep from being stabbed by the sharp spike-like thorns on the shell.

In Thailand, durian is known as the King of Fruits. Here’s a picture of a durian cut open, so you can see what the edible part looks like:

I think it looks like a little purse of yellow dough. It’s soft to bite into, not crunchy or juicy like most fruits. To me, it tastes mildly of onions that are just beginning to rot. However, many Thais say it’s their favorite fruit, so don’t take my word for how it tastes, but ask around for other opinions.

The other fruit raised in this orchard is rambutan (ngaw in Thai). It has a tough shell covered with little wavy fringes. When you cut it open, there is a firm, translucent fruit inside that is similar in texture to a lychee, one of its close relatives. Rambutan is less juicy and less sweet than lychee.

Yu Pin, Thanchanok, Ampai, Kwanta, me

Kruu Yu Pin and rambutan

Kruu Jiraporn with Rambutan

We left the orchard with the back of our vehicle filled with fruit.

So there you have my experience of Thainapping in Chantaburi – not too much beach, but quality time with several of my fellow teachers as well as Art Illusion, wedding, and orchard more than made up for that.

Pst: I’m not much of a beach person anyway. Remember, you heard it here.