Monks and Funerals
Starting with business and then moving on: construction is well under way and beyond my expectations. Everything here on that front is going to go well. Extremely well, I dare to say, although I have underlying questions and confusions. I believe I'll be done early and may find time to go down and see the Thai islands at the end of my trip. However, it is a good thing there was a lot of progress before my arrival, because it is rather hard to keep us on task. For example, I'm pretty sure I made one of these boys a monk today:
Most of the ceremony was completed by, well, monks. But because all of these boys are orphans, they needed volunteers to take the role of the boys parents. So, surrounded by a few other western volunteers (Danish and German) and a variety of local Thai, I did a lot of bowing, lighting of candles, bowing, lighting of incense, and bowing. And then I had to kneel across from one of the children and pass him one by one his yellow robe (which he is wearing in this photo) and a white flower wrapped around a stick and an envelope with 20 baht. (That is about 50 cents.) That took about, oh, an hour and a half. Kneeling with feet flat on floor, kneeling with toes curled under, "standing up" in the kneeling position, kneeling with feet to one side.... Then eating the spiciest food I've ever eaten in my life. I'm pretty sure I lost a lung. Did I mention this was breakfast? And last but not least playing with all the orphans that weren't made monks today. They loved my camera and took dozens of pictures with it, capturing truly lovely, blurry, hand-blocking the lens photos of everyone that wasn't clustered behind the camera.
And, while I'm talking about things that I've been doing instead of working, things to know about a Thai cremation:
(As a prologue, let me mention that I was at the cremation ending the 7 day funeral for a woman, not a man, which I render as evidence of my email communication difficulties.)
1) Monks use cell phones. They use them all the time, but somehow at a cremation it is particularly noticeable. One of them had to make a call (to the A/V dept?) to confirm how to hook the VCR to the oven at the crematorium. Yes, that's right.
2) The end of the funeral is incredibly light-hearted, until it really isn't. There were hundreds of us there listening to the chanting of the monks, and -- with occasional wai-ing -- there was all kinds of chatting and people wandering around handing out glasses of Thai iced tea. Then we were all given a paper flower and a candle, tied together, and got up and approached the altar. (The very traditional and very large altar, which I soon discovered hid the massive stainless steel oven.) As the masses of people funneled through to wai (bow) and place the paper flower into bowls on the altar, money was thrown at us, wrapped in little colored wrappings. Although "thrown" isn't quite the right verb. Somewhere between "chucked" and "hurled" at us might be more accurate. I think I saw a woman with a welt on her face.... And then everyone dives and scrambles for the money. I don't think it was all money actually -- I think other bits of paper were wrapped around candies -- but the only one I managed to pick up was a 1 baht coin. In the tumult of bodies clawing at the ground, my height put me at a real disadvantage. And then we placed our flowers in the bowls and received a small package from the family and most of the hundreds left. Here is where you are thinking that I probably left, but indeed no. I was taken by the arm and introduced to a few people. (I didn't know their names even as they were saying them to me. This language is impossible.) And then I was taken to the other side of the oven. Right about here is when it stopped being light hearted.
3) They release these huge beautiful balloons with dangling sterno canisters. I forgot to mention that part. These balloons occasionally get stuck in trees and start fires.
4) The body was lying in a white plywood box without a lid. She wore the same huge round glasses in the box as she had on in the photo of her on the altar. She was draped in a shiny green fabric from chin to toe, so all you could see of her was her feet, and on the fabric were a few small flowers, and the mourners went up to the white box one by one, not really in a line, and poured brilliantly colored perfumes from bottles like tobasco on the body, starting at the top of her head and over her glasses down towards her feet until the bottle was empty. Many bottles. Perhaps 20 people did this and I didn't know the relationship of anyone to anyone else, but I think two were her sons. They gestured to me and said, "You can do that if you want to," but the way they said it made me think I wouldn't be insulting them if I declined, so I declined. And then they began again, now placing those same white paper flowers in the box, kneeling around and placing there hands upon it, and then lifting it up into the oven. They slid it in, and the door mechanically shut.
5) On the other side of the building that was the oven a monk (next to the monk with the cell phone and the not-a-monk with the VCR stood in front of a stainless steel panel full of huge red and green buttons. How many buttons does such a device need? Eventually they gave up on the VCR and the monk pushed a button. At this point I'm told that the family will stay a while and then return in the morning for the body. I assume they mean the ashes. And I'm told it is time for me to go. It felt about 30 minutes past time for me to go, but they had kneel again and place some more incense and seemed very happy I was there. They are a very welcoming people, I would say.
6) I now have red string tied around my wrist with no idea of how long I'm supposed to leave it there....
There is undoubtedly more to tell but this is too long and I must return to my labors. They've lent me a bicycle to ride to the grocery store -- a route that goes under a huge dragon -- and to ride to the bus station to catch the bus I need every morning. The grocery store is astounding, as is the market all along the Mekong River. The heat is stifling, at night, the rest of the time it is indescribable. And some kid named Fong really likes it when I pick him up.
I hope you all are well!
Most of the ceremony was completed by, well, monks. But because all of these boys are orphans, they needed volunteers to take the role of the boys parents. So, surrounded by a few other western volunteers (Danish and German) and a variety of local Thai, I did a lot of bowing, lighting of candles, bowing, lighting of incense, and bowing. And then I had to kneel across from one of the children and pass him one by one his yellow robe (which he is wearing in this photo) and a white flower wrapped around a stick and an envelope with 20 baht. (That is about 50 cents.) That took about, oh, an hour and a half. Kneeling with feet flat on floor, kneeling with toes curled under, "standing up" in the kneeling position, kneeling with feet to one side.... Then eating the spiciest food I've ever eaten in my life. I'm pretty sure I lost a lung. Did I mention this was breakfast? And last but not least playing with all the orphans that weren't made monks today. They loved my camera and took dozens of pictures with it, capturing truly lovely, blurry, hand-blocking the lens photos of everyone that wasn't clustered behind the camera.
And, while I'm talking about things that I've been doing instead of working, things to know about a Thai cremation:
(As a prologue, let me mention that I was at the cremation ending the 7 day funeral for a woman, not a man, which I render as evidence of my email communication difficulties.)
1) Monks use cell phones. They use them all the time, but somehow at a cremation it is particularly noticeable. One of them had to make a call (to the A/V dept?) to confirm how to hook the VCR to the oven at the crematorium. Yes, that's right.
2) The end of the funeral is incredibly light-hearted, until it really isn't. There were hundreds of us there listening to the chanting of the monks, and -- with occasional wai-ing -- there was all kinds of chatting and people wandering around handing out glasses of Thai iced tea. Then we were all given a paper flower and a candle, tied together, and got up and approached the altar. (The very traditional and very large altar, which I soon discovered hid the massive stainless steel oven.) As the masses of people funneled through to wai (bow) and place the paper flower into bowls on the altar, money was thrown at us, wrapped in little colored wrappings. Although "thrown" isn't quite the right verb. Somewhere between "chucked" and "hurled" at us might be more accurate. I think I saw a woman with a welt on her face.... And then everyone dives and scrambles for the money. I don't think it was all money actually -- I think other bits of paper were wrapped around candies -- but the only one I managed to pick up was a 1 baht coin. In the tumult of bodies clawing at the ground, my height put me at a real disadvantage. And then we placed our flowers in the bowls and received a small package from the family and most of the hundreds left. Here is where you are thinking that I probably left, but indeed no. I was taken by the arm and introduced to a few people. (I didn't know their names even as they were saying them to me. This language is impossible.) And then I was taken to the other side of the oven. Right about here is when it stopped being light hearted.
3) They release these huge beautiful balloons with dangling sterno canisters. I forgot to mention that part. These balloons occasionally get stuck in trees and start fires.
4) The body was lying in a white plywood box without a lid. She wore the same huge round glasses in the box as she had on in the photo of her on the altar. She was draped in a shiny green fabric from chin to toe, so all you could see of her was her feet, and on the fabric were a few small flowers, and the mourners went up to the white box one by one, not really in a line, and poured brilliantly colored perfumes from bottles like tobasco on the body, starting at the top of her head and over her glasses down towards her feet until the bottle was empty. Many bottles. Perhaps 20 people did this and I didn't know the relationship of anyone to anyone else, but I think two were her sons. They gestured to me and said, "You can do that if you want to," but the way they said it made me think I wouldn't be insulting them if I declined, so I declined. And then they began again, now placing those same white paper flowers in the box, kneeling around and placing there hands upon it, and then lifting it up into the oven. They slid it in, and the door mechanically shut.
5) On the other side of the building that was the oven a monk (next to the monk with the cell phone and the not-a-monk with the VCR stood in front of a stainless steel panel full of huge red and green buttons. How many buttons does such a device need? Eventually they gave up on the VCR and the monk pushed a button. At this point I'm told that the family will stay a while and then return in the morning for the body. I assume they mean the ashes. And I'm told it is time for me to go. It felt about 30 minutes past time for me to go, but they had kneel again and place some more incense and seemed very happy I was there. They are a very welcoming people, I would say.
6) I now have red string tied around my wrist with no idea of how long I'm supposed to leave it there....
There is undoubtedly more to tell but this is too long and I must return to my labors. They've lent me a bicycle to ride to the grocery store -- a route that goes under a huge dragon -- and to ride to the bus station to catch the bus I need every morning. The grocery store is astounding, as is the market all along the Mekong River. The heat is stifling, at night, the rest of the time it is indescribable. And some kid named Fong really likes it when I pick him up.
I hope you all are well!
posted by Great Morass at 2:03 AM
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