At Home in the Universe

September 24, 2016

In Buddhism, a ceremony known as Khuan Baan Mai is performed (in certain regions) ... to protect the house and its inhabitants. The ceremony is performed by a group of nine monks, who must be invited to the house early on the morning of the ceremony.

• The monks then perform a ritual involving sacred lustral water and wax candles. As the wax melts and drops into the water, it is believed to wash away evil and sorrow.

• The monks also chant prayers in the Pali language, while passing a white string through each of their hands. The vibrations from the chanted prayers are believed to pass through the string, protecting the houses and its inhabitants.

• After the ceremony, the monks sit down to a meal prepared by the host family and their friends and neighbors.They must finished their meal before noon. Then one monk sprinkles holy water in each of the rooms of the house, before they all leave.

• Once the monks leave, the rest of the guests sit down to eat the remaining food. In the afternoon, they perform the thread ceremony, where the guests wrap a white thread around the homeowners and offer them their blessing.

                                                                                    WikiHow

Our driver, Mick, was excited to be buying his first house.  It is a momentous occasion, especially in Buddhism, and religion is a big part of the process.  The monks must be consulted to determine the proper day and time to enter the home for the first time.  Mick's father determined from the monks in his village that September 19th was the auspicious date.  On that day, they brought a small Buddha relic to the house and spent their first night.

The official blessing ceremony took place on the following Saturday morning.  A couple days before, Mick had to go to the temple to borrow the ceremonial tables, cushions and other items necessary.  The stage was set for the five monks that would visit.  They were having five instead of nine because of space limitations, and the monks told them nine or five were their only options - numbers are significant.

The day before the ceremony, we had a substitute driver, as Mick and his wife would be busy preparing.  We were honored to be invited to attend the ceremony, and the same substitute driver came and picked us up for the event early Saturday morning.  When we arrived at the house, several friends were already present, including Mick's father who was visiting Pattaya for the first time.  Women were in the kitchen preparing food.    We got a quick tour of the house - an attached, two-story, two-bedroom home about twenty minutes from our place.

Soon Mick was on his way to the temple to pick up the monks.  It was fun imagining five monks in our car, and wondering what the conversation, if any, was like.  While we waited for their arrival, some of the men set about hanging a plaque on the front of his house, and a dozen people had a dozen different ideas about where it should go.  They were considering a spot dangerously close to an electrical conduit, but wisely moved it over.

We sat at one of the tables outside and attempted communication with Mick's dad.  Our substitute driver tried to interpret for us, saying he was inviting us to come visit him in his village in south Thailand.  A little while later, the same driver interpreted, "He wants to know when you are coming!"  Our "interpreter" gave up after a while, but that didn't stop Mick's dad from carrying on a very animated, one-sided conversation with us.   It was clear where Mick got his gift of gab.

They were still up on the chair hanging the plaque when Mick and the monks (sounds like a singing group) returned.  I expected everyone to stop and pay respects, clearing away all the shoes that had accumulated in front of the door.  But the monks, in their saffron robes, just stepped over the shoes and entered.  They settled on their cushions and began the ceremony.  We were all seated at tables just outside the door, but a few of us went inside and sat on the floor along the opposite wall to participate.  Thais often squat or sit on the floor, but I was not so accustomed, and luckily found a corner wall to lean against.

The lead monk began chanting, with the other monks responding.  At one point, Mick had to light a candle, and the melting wax was dripped into a basin of water.  Later, some of us were given bowls of cooked rice from a huge rice cooker, and we spooned that rice into the three silver vessels for the monks.  Tim was brought in to do the same.  The entire time, everyone made an effort to keep their head below the monks', sometimes crawling across the floor, sometimes just stooping low as they walked.  The monks chanted some beautiful verses in the ancient Pali language.  I noticed a younger monks stumbled a bit through some of the words, still learning.

Click here to hear Monks Chanting

For the next part, we went back outside to the tables, and the monks were fed.  Buddhist monks are not allowed to eat after noon, so there was a careful effort to have them fed at the proper time.  Then the food started coming out to the tables for the guests.  There were many things I didn't recognize, and some were familiar.  The fish that Mick's wife had shown me earlier, caught by Mick, was prepared especially for Tim and me and our western tastes.  Mick was careful to make sure some less spicy food would be available for us.  The fish was quite tasty.  It was still morning, but the beer and booze were already open; Thai-style, as Mick would say.

In the middle of eating, we stopped and participated in more of the rituals.  The monks chanted some more, and everyone was generously sprinkled with water by the head monk.  He then climbed up to the plaque that was hung earlier, and put white dabs in a specific pattern on the plaque, adding some gold leaf at the end.  A few of us received a small vial of water in a small bowl, and, at the appointed time, slowly poured the water into the bowl.  I think this was in memory of our loved ones who had passed, as it was when I went to the temple for Mick's birthday.  I then followed the others' lead by taking a piece of banana leaf and going to a potted plant across the road.  The water in the little bowl was poured out onto the banana leaf so it could run down into the roots of the plant, and some words I couldn't understand were spoken.

It was finally time for the monks to return to their temple, and for us to return to the feast, after the flies had tested everything for us.  We were served a dessert called Bua Loy Taiwan, colorful little balls of rice flour and mashed taro flavored and colored with different vegetables or juices, and topped with an egg and a sweet coconut milk mixture - quite tasty, in my opinion.

Once Mick returned, we politely said our goodbyes and made our exit.  We wanted them to be able to relax and enjoy their party without having to worry about taking care of the boss.  Apparently the party went on well into the night.

God bless their new home!

My attempt at writing their card in Thai -

lots of copying involved

Death of a King

October 16, 2016

It has been three days since the passing of His Majesty King Bhumibol Adulyadej.  All TV stations were preempted to air non-stop videos about the king.  Unfortunately none had English subtitles; I would have appreciated hearing the stories, and my Thai is nowhere near strong enough yet.   At Tim's work, they had warned that some Thais might not show up to work.  I had a Thai lesson scheduled for the next day, and sent a message to my kruu asking if he preferred to cancel, but he said he would still come.

The day after his passing, the king's body was to be moved from the hospital to the Grand Palace, scheduled for 3 p.m.  People started lining up along the route in Bangkok overnight.  They sat baking in the ninety-plus degree heat in their black clothing to catch a glimpse of the motorcade.  The contrast to any similar event in the US was striking to me.  Everyone sat somberly on the ground, not standing or sitting on folding chairs.  People spoke very little, and held up yellow flags or pictures of their king.  Those who didn't have pictures held up baht bills, as all paper currency bears the king's image.  Several people prayed with eyes closed.  Cell phones were even forgotten for most of the crowd.  Military and police quietly stood shoulder to shoulder along the side of the road.  Medical personnel lined the exit ramp from the hospital.

Finally, some time after 4:30 p.m., a motorcade zoomed into the underground entrance of the hospital, and soon reemerged.  The transport vehicles were surprisingly plain - a VW minivan and a yellow Mercedes van bearing the king's flag, followed by several red sedans I assume were carrying officials or family members.  As the motorcade approached, the standing navy personnel, in dress whites, took a knee and saluted as it passed.  Many people were in tears, and I didn't see a single person pull out their cell phone for a picture.  I think the reality was still sinking in for many devoted Thais.  The motorcade made the short trip and disappeared into the Grand Palace grounds.

(all images from TV)

The day was declared a national holiday to allow as many as possible to participate in the mourning activities.  Earlier in the day, people lined up to take part in the symbolic Royal Bathing Ceremony by  approaching the portrait of the king on their knees and pouring small gold cups of water into large basins.  It is a Buddhist tradition for family and friends to repeatedly pour scented water over the hands of the deceased to purify and bring blessings.  The official Royal Bathing Ceremony was performed by the crown prince in the evening in the Temple of the Emerald Buddha, with the chanting of the monks in attendance.  The chanting will continue for at least 100 days.

The funeral may delayed for a year or more to prepare for appropriately elaborate ceremony.  The body may be present for paying respects during that time.  No official announcements or plans have been revealed as yet.  Thirty official days of mourning have been declared.  All entertainments and celebrations are supposed to be cancelled - no parties, no theater, no entertainment of any kind.  The beautiful Loy Krathong festival may be cancelled or toned down this year.  Many bars are closing and some places will not sell alcohol.  People are asked to wear black, although when I went out yesterday, I saw that many were not complying.  I imagine black clothing will be difficult to find in stores at this point.

Our thoughts remain with the people of Thailand.

The King

October 13, 2016

Our hearts are with the people of Thailand tonight as they morn the passing of their beloved king.  We are okay, but we are surrounded by a great sadness.  It is as if 67 million people have lost their father.

Sear Jai Duay Ka. ("Broken Heart Together")

เสียใจด้วย

Even Google is wearing black today

December 11, 2014Post:

The King in Yellow

Friday, December 5th, was the King's birthday.  His Majesty King Bhumibol turned 87, though sadly he spent this national holiday in a hospital room and did not make an appearance.  I asked our driver if Thai people have big parties for the King's birthday, and he responded very seriously that they don't have big parties, but sedate, respectful gatherings with lighted candles - more reverential than festive.  The king is much loved by his people, and his image is seen everywhere - as plentiful as the Buddhas in the spirit houses.  The display here is at the entrance of a hotel, and it is representative of the size and grandeur of similar displays throughout the city.

  The King's color is yellow (I later learned this is because he was born on a Monday, and yellow is the color for Monday), so we wore our yellow shirts to honor the king.  The king's birthday is also their national Father's Day.

 

Out of Africa - Nane (8)

August 26-28, 2016

Trekked in the cool morning air to the dining lodge for breakfast.  In the daylight, we were able to get a much better look at the giant baobab tree sticking out the center of the structure.  A Maasai cloth was hung over each of our seats for the cool weather, cool being a relative term.  Hot water was available, along with teas, hot chocolate, and Africafe instant coffee, which seems to be the coffee of choice everywhere.  We were served a nice selection of fresh fruit, and eggs if we wanted them.  The clink-clink (ngorngoro, ngorongoro) of cowbells was the music for our morning meal as the Maasai passed by with their herds.  Screens instead of walls brought the outside in.

our banda

The walk back 

We went off-script again today, opting to forego the cultural walk around town and the inevitable sales pitches that would accompany that trek.  After some relaxation, Geoffrey brought the car and drove us down to the lake just behind the lodge.  We drove over a vast open area that is probably under water during the rainy season.  We passed one or two locals bicycling across the area - it must be a difficult ride, as nothing is nearby and the "road" is not smooth.  We caught glimpses of a couple of other lodges up on the bluff that faces the lake.

The wildebeests here are tan rather than the usual gray/black

The often lonely trek of the Maasai

An expanse of pink in the distance turned out to be a huge flock of flamingos.  During the rainy season, flamingos inhabit the edges of Lake Manyara in exponentially greater numbers, but this was still the biggest flock I'd ever seen.  Flamingos feed on blue-green algae found only in very alkaline lakes; this algae is actually what gives the flamingo its pink color.  The pink turned into a flurry of Good and Plenty candies when the flock took to the air, exposing black flight wings not visible on land.  Beautiful.  We lingered a while at this peaceful, isolated location.

Geoffrey's well-used bird books

Back at the Burudika Lodge, we trekked back to the Baobab restaurant once more for a hot lunch.  We saw some colorful lovebirds in a tree just outside.  Packing up our bags once again, we piled into the car and waited while Tim checked out.  He was inside quite a long time, finally emerging only to inform us that we had to wait a bit longer.  One of the staff came loping across the wide property with Tim's long-awaited change.  That same staff then had to run another distance to open the gate for us, certainly earning his wages.

They don't call it Dusty Roads for nothing

We were definitely back in "civilization" as we traveled from Manyara back to Arusha.  The roads were smoother and people were everywhere, a stark change from a week of animals and wide open spaces.  Traffic grew heavier as we neared Arusha, with many dala dalas, minibuses that serve as public transportation.  Rather than having some kind of official logo, these dala dalas were decorated in every conceivable manner, perhaps a result of the driver/owner's self-expression, or paid advertisements.  Maybe they are all privately owned.  We saw several packed uncomfortably full with riders.

St. Constantine's International School

Geoffrey had pointed out the Cultural Heritage Center on our way out of Arusha days earlier, and said we could stop when we returned, if we so desired.  We arrived in the late afternoon, and were greeted by several whimsical metal critters lining the entrance.  I'd expected a museum of sorts, but this was more of a collection of African arts and crafts for sale.  We spent some time perusing the tremendous variety of crafts, when we were informed that the art gallery would be closing in one hour.  So there was more to this place, and we quickly crossed fanciful sculpture gardens to the modern-looking building beyond.  This place was a startling and delightful surprise - a beautiful, several-storied art gallery with artwork expertly displayed around a circular center, like a smaller version of the Guggenheim Museum in NYC.  The owner said he financed this privately-owned facility with revenue from the sale of tanzanite.

 "Cultural Heritage is a unique cultural centre on the outskirts of Arusha. We have curio shops, a jewellery boutique, a tanzanite and precious stone counter, a restaurant, bargain centre and outstanding commercial art gallery. We have a vast array of ornaments, jewellery, antiques and local crafts to cater for any budget. High quality clothing, textiles, accessories, books and spices can also be found onsite at Oneway and the Spice Centre...The only collection of its kind in the world, ranging from African antiques to contemporary painting and sculpture you will be dazzled by our assembly of art and artefacts. Find some of our collections in the central store or come and experience the Gallery; a breath taking feat of engineering and artful display that will leave you awe-struck."   

http://www.culturalheritage.co.tz/

The beauty of the country and the wildlife was captured in many creative and provoking styles.  We were surprised to find many western artists' works featured along with the many talented African artists.  A docent proudly pointed out a huge, wall-sized painting of some lions recently purchased by "the NFL" for 300,000 USD.  It didn't occur to me then, but it would have made sense if it was someone from the Detroit Lions franchise.  Unfortunately, picture-taking was not allowed inside the gallery, and one hour was not nearly enough time to really enjoy this place.  It reminded me of the European tour I went on in college, when we were given just enough time to run into the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa, then get back on the bus!

Geoffrey had noticed Tim's affinity for coffee during our time together, and promised to take him to a place with great coffee.  Coffee is a huge part of the economy here - we passed many coffee plantations around Arusha.  Once we'd all found our way back to the car after our cultural fix, we drove to a little strip mall in town where I saw more westerners than I'd seen our whole time in Tanzania.  This place clearly catered to western tastes, and it was here we visited Msumbi Coffee shop. Click the link to see  The Story of Msumbi Coffee.  The smell of roasting coffee beans beckons, and big containers of loose coffee beans stand before the visitors as they enter the shop.  Wall posters describe the subtle art of coffee.  Some in our group bought coffee to bring home.  I cannot attest to the flavor of the coffee, as I am not a coffee drinker, but I found the shop inviting.

Ted and I stopped into a few of the other little shops nearby, and it took a while to get everyone back to the car.  Then we drove back through downtown Arusha, past the clock tower, and on to Planet Lodge for our final night in Tanzania.  Tim invited Geoffrey's family to join us for dinner, but realized our guide was probably anxious to get home after being away for so many days.  Geoffrey promised to bring his family by for a visit the next day.

strip mall

city sights

Many children in the city wore
school uniforms

amazing skill

Planet Lodge is a walled facility tucked away from the main street.  Several circular little bungalows are divided into two units that have air conditioning and TV, amenities missing for most of our trip.  We were surprised by the large number of westerners at dinner, including a table of eight elderly women who were not too concerned about blocking the buffet table.  All-you-can-eat buffets often bring out the "best" in people, don't they?  Regardless, we savored our last dinner together, and the guys came to hang out in our room for a little while afterward.

main building

Our last day in Tanzania we had breakfast with the western crowd again.  I watched safari cars loading up with supplies as they prepared to begin the journey we had just completed, remembering the uncertainty about what lay in store, and the excitement for the adventure.

We had several hours before our flights, and spent some time hanging out in the lounge area.  The guys were excited to see a soccer match on the TV, but it turned out to be a replay of an old game.  A chess competition was foiled when we realized pieces were missing. Our guide brought his beautiful young family to the hotel say hello.  It was clear they were a very loving, happy family, and I felt a bit sorry that we had taken him away for so long.  How different his children's lives must be from what he experienced growing up in a Maasai village with many siblings and half-siblings, herding livestock and having little contact with the outside world.  Now he lives in the city and sends his children to an English-medium school, where English is the primary medium of instruction.  We were thankful for the opportunity to meet them, and to see another side of life in Tanzania.

We were served a hot lunch on the outside terrace, really lovely with the beautiful surrounding gardens.  Then it was time to pile into the car once more.  There was some discussion about making two trips to the airport, since the boys' flight was several hours after ours.  But they kindly declined, as they didn't want our guide to have to do the trip twice.  The figured they could just as easily wait at the airport as in the hotel lobby.  On the drive east, we passed many coffee plantations, drove over some rough road, passed through a little village, and had a nice view of Mt. Meru to our left.

Rifle-toting guards manned the gate into the airport, and each car was stopped and checked.  Too soon the moment I most dreaded had arrived - having to say goodbye to those three amazing young men who mean the world to me.  Geoffrey promised to stay with them for a while and show them where they could get a cup of coffee while they waited, as we were not sure what would be available inside this little airport.  Tim and I had to pass more than one security check, fill out forms, show papers, then continue on through another security scan.  We discovered the airport had some lounges and places to eat or drink, so I called Geoffrey to let the guys know.  Tim answered Geoffrey's phone, which threw me for a loop - I guess Geoffrey passed the phone over when he saw who was calling.

Oh, how I love these men!

We waited in a tiny boarding area, where nearly everyone looked like westerners.  We boarded our Qatar flight for the one-hour flight to Zanzibar.  An announcement was made congratulating a group of successful climbers of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and the group let out a whoop.  We did see some people sporting "Mt. Kilimanjaro - Been There, Done That" T-shirts throughout our trip.  According to our guide, it takes about seven days to ascend and descend the 20,000-foot peak of this highest mountain in Africa, and the highest free-standing mountain in the world.

We again sat on the tarmac for an hour in Zanzibar, before continuing on to Doha, Qatar, then finally on to Thailand which, save the absence of our family, is starting to really feel like home.  I am so grateful for the opportunity we had to share this once-in-a-lifetime adventure with our boys.