Want to see some Fireworks: Go to a Buddhist funeral!

Funerals and rituals surrounding death are very elaborate and interesting here in Thailand. I had the honor of attending a funeral the other day, and I am still trying to decide if I really saw what I did.

The scene: Across from the monastery is a large field with one temple like building and a pavilion. They have also set up a few more tents. The pavilion as the monks, the family of the deceased, and the VIP’s, the tent as the next group of people, then probably a few hundred more are scattered around the area sitting under the trees.

The funeral begins with a lot of formality that apparently is mostly to do with money and donations. Monks walk over to the temple, receive an envelope and walk back. Later groups of about 10 adults are called up, they walk up to the front, get an envelope, bow and give it to the people. Many Buddhist events and funerals have to do a lot with money. So, as I found out from the previous day. They give out funerals to all the people they know. Those people are expected to return the invite with cash and presents. How much cash they are expected to give is dependent on their position in the community and job. 

The large firework takes off while attendants stand by watching. 

A young funeral attendant watches as the firework shoots high into the sky

With smoke surrounding the crematorium from the fireworks, family members and friends gather to pay their last respects. 

The nicest looking casket I have ever seen in the worst looking hearse I have ever seen. 

Monks gather and attendees gather to pay final respects. 

Three young girls laughing while waiting for the final festivities

Pouring coconut water over the body before the cremation: coconut water symbolizes purity. 

The very wealthy people give large donations the next day, and I think most of what takes place is the formality of recognizing those rich people who donated a lot of money.

The money the family gets goes to a lot of things, one is to pay the monks. That is why the monks go up, supposedly funerals are quite profitable for them, the family is expected to pay them handsomely. The family is also expected to donate money to some cause, usually the local school.

After all the formalities of people going up and giving and getting money, the funeral takes on more of what we would be used to here in the Christian west. People come up to the podium and talk about the deceased and other religious themes. A granddaughter read her biography, a few sons spoke, a few monks, and I guess most important of all, the son who became a monk for the event.  That is correct, one son of the family goes through a day long ritual and becomes a monk for a day. He is the son who will accompany his mother/father to the afterlife. He spoke and cried, then a monk prayed.

At the exact moment he was finishing, I heard a huge bang, everyone had turned a huge firework had gone off. Behind the temple there was an area where many large fireworks had been set up. Right next to the coffin that was a beautiful elaborately decorated gold box being carried on a pick-up truck.

Right after the first firework went off, which was basically just a large explosion, the biggest firework I have ever seen in my life went off, it was a large circular helicopter type thing that was propelled spinning into the air. It went incredibly high then came back down with a parachute to the earth. Once this was over, everyone stood up and walked to the temple thing (really a crematorium) where they all took their flowers and incense, up the stairs and left it at the table at the top.

Simultaneously while this was happening, they were also burning the belongings of the deceased in an open fire behind the crematorium. The monks were gathered around talking and waiting, along with all the people who had yet to leave their flower offering. So the people (including myself) went up one staircase, then down the side staircase. While finishing, they also received a gift. Yes, they give out party favors at the funeral. Everyone gets one. Guess what the gift was? Aspirin! I mean if you are going to give out a party favor at a funeral, why not Aspirin! From what I understand the family is just expected to give out something, and I guess they got a killer dill on a ton of small bottles of Aspirin. So, you know, why not.

After everyone had gone through, now was the time for the last rites of the funeral. The monks are all gathered, and lined up in order. The coffin is opened and they ascend into the crematorium holding coconuts and bamboo stocks. Each one pours out the coconut water onto the body, then continue down, after the monks, the family members do the same. Many mourn and cry vigorously, in a few moments the remains of their loved one will be burned.

After all the family members had poured the coconut water, they closed the coffin and put it in the chamber. The monk then prepared to light a firework that hung a string that went straight towards a tree across the courtyard. The monk lit the firework, the firework shot across the courtyard on the string, and then let another firework on another string that shot right back to the crematorium and lit the fire to begin the cremation.

As the fire lit, simultaneously they lit up a few more huge fireworks with their crashing booms. Also, from the crematorium they threw out tons of candy and money. All the funeral goers who were gathered around, scampered and frenzied to get as much money as they could. After all this is a funeral, and what else would you do at the end other then throw out money and candy. The money was wrapped in beautiful paper flowers. After all the money had been thrown out and gathered by the mob, the group quickly dispersed. Smoke was now billowing from the top of the stack, and once people saw this, they hurried away. The only people left were a few monks and family members huddled in the pavilion, praying. 

Escape from Thailand! (part 2)

There was one difficulty with the connection in Mae Sot. That was that they knew nothing. James got a guy on a motorcycle to give him a lift for 40 bhat. A fair price, and there he was at 7 a.m. calling Oil to answer the door. She did. She was just waking up, but was not too mad.

“Hey, good morning!” He greeted her warmly. His only goal was to convince her that nothing was wrong. He was successful.

The day was spent driving around the city and seeing the sights. As it is a border town, going to the border market with Burma was in fact a must. James stood out. He was white, tall, and smiled all the time. Fortunately he was carrying a camera and looked like a tourist. He walked right by soldiers who did not say anything. As he walked through the open market, ducking his head to miss the low roof tops and hanging merchandise, he planned his getaway run if it was necessary. It never was, but he was prepared.

That night his friend gave him a ride to the bus station. He bumbled with his wallet while attempting to get the right amount to pay the fair. His friend felt so bad for the confused looking traveler that she showed him to the bus and told the attendant to look after him and help him get off at the right spot. He got on the bus, smiling, and resuming his confident pose. He felt under his shirt, it was still there. He sat confidently and happily in his seat.

The bus ride was long. Twelve hours long. Luckily he was sitting where there wasn’t enough leg room to be comfortable, otherwise he may have fallen asleep. But no, he stayed up all night long. No one could even attempt to check the contents of his gear.

At 4 a.m. he arrived. Aud was there waiting.

“Good to see you, Aud.”

“You also, James. Get in the car.”

James jumped into the old pickup truck and they began the two hour journey to the small village where he would lay low for a few days before the final push. After hours of consulting, they decided it was the best strategy to make sure everything was ready.

About an hour into the drive, James felt his shirt, and suddenly felt alarmed. It was gone.

He searched his bags, he dug through is pockets. Nothing. It was not there.

“What do we do?” Aud said.

“What do you mean, what do we do?” James roared, “This isn’t a freaking game of Crochet! We drive back and we get it.”

“What if we can’t find it.”

“We have to find it.”

Aud pulled over and quickly turned around, going as fast as the 1990 small Honda pickup truck could carry them back to the bus station from which they had just barely come. James sweat as his mind raced with possibilities of what could have happened. He went over his every move. He considered where he had gone and what he had done. Was it when he stood up? Did he drop it? Was there a someone on the bus who had noticed him feeling it and carefully placed themselves to grab it while he was getting off.

The hour drive back could not go back quick enough.  The thoughts of the ramifications of what would happen could he not find the documents began to creep into his mind, but he refused to let himself think about it. He had to find them.

His heart had nearly beat itself out of his chest by the time they pulled up to the bus station.

Aud drove around looking for a place to park, then found a place to parallel park and was carefully attempting to line up in it.

“Just pull over and stop the car already!” James screamed, losing patience. Aud came to a sudden stop.

James opened the door, and there his bag tumbled toward the concrete. James reached out and grabbed it before it hit the ground. He raised it to show Aud, in near disbelief.

“I guess it was between the door and the seat.” James said quietly smiling.

Aud rolled his eyes as they turned around and made their way back to the village. He had woken up at 2 a.m. to be there on time. It was now 6, and they still had two hours till they got home. “At least the documents are safe.”

“Indeed.” James smiled, and they both laughed.

To be continued… 

Escape from Thailand! (Part 1)

This is, as they say in Hollywood, based on a true story. Names and some details have been changed to protect the innocent, as well as to make it sound like a British spy novel. Not that I know at all what a British spy novel should sound like, as I have never read one, I have however watched multiple episodes of "bits of Fry and Laurie" which I feel more than qualifies me.

“You sure its safe Dhay?”

“I’m telling you James, if you are not sleeping warmly in a warm bed in Laos Sunday, I’ll personally arrange your funeral , and I’ll hold it in Laos.”

“The chances are that good eh?”

“Either way, you’ll be resting in Laos on Sunday.”

“Well I don’t like, I don’t like it one bit, but I guess that doesn’t matter much.”

“It sure doesn’t, you better learn to like it. These documents are not getting to Laos any other way. And you know, what that means.”

“Yes, Dhay, I do, and I shudder to think about it. I don’t even want to mention the atrocities that will ensue, because, who knows I may jinx the whole endeavor.”

“That you would James, so I better not hear a word of it. Be ready. Tomorrow morning, 5 a.m. You will meet Klo in front of the dormitory. He will guide you to the river. From there you will meet the covered truck on the road which will take you to Mae Sot. After that, it is up to you.”

It was 6 p.m. and darkness already covered the camp. Thick clouds threatened rain at any moment. Inside the bamboo-walled house with the metal roof, one light bulb lit the solitary man in the solitary bedroom. He sat, gathering and organizing his things, deciding what of everything would be most important, and what he could leave behind.

“Matches?” he said to himself. “Yes, yes of course you idiot. You never know when you might need to light an emergency fire, or cook a wild squirrel. This small box could be a life saver. And who knows, a bloke might need a light for his smoke.”  He chuckled to himself at the thought, because there was no one else to chuckle to.

“Knife? Of course James, what do you think this is, girl scout camp? A tourists excursion? Ha!” He smiled once more coyly. Just then, a gad fly landed right on his lips. “Phew!” he spit towards the wall. “Darn these flies, if they do not kill me from giving me some lung-eating disease, they will be the death of me through shear annoyance. Darn them!”

With those words the first drip of rain hit the metal roof. James turned toward the open air of the two foot gap between the top of the bamboo wall and the metal roof. Through it he could see the tree outside, and the towering mountain behind, and in front of it appeared a sheet of rain. The pounding on the metal roof drowned out all other sounds. The croaking of the jungle frogs, the hum of the crickets were suddenly no more. Nothing could make a sound above the howling of rain.

With the rain hundreds and thousands of bugs, decided to take up residence inside as well, swarming around the solitary light bulb.

“Blast” I can’t open my eyes without one of these buzzards trying to take up space in it!” Swatting and trying to move away from the swarm. He quickly stuffed whatever else he thought necessary into the bag and then jumped under his mosquito night, where he huddled for protection.

“Five a.m. always comes quicker than you think. That is what my uncle used to say. Or maybe I have just said it. Who knows?” And indeed it seems to be the truth, it always does come quicker than you think. And this morning was no exception. At 4:45, what he felt was all to soon, he heard the ringing of his alarm.

“I must have done the time wrong, there must be an hour or two more.” He grabbed his phone, and checked the time. “Dang” He had in fact been right, which also, unfortunately made him wrong. It was mere moments until go time. “5 minutes, he said to himself, 5 more minutes of rest, I’ll wake up.”

He didn’t, Not on time at least. Suddenly he found himself shaking himself and reaching for his phone. “4:56” Blast, I nearly fell completely asleep! He jumped up, ran to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and hurriedly prepared his room. He stuffed the last few things into his bag, then left locking his door, and hiding the key. “No need to carry this with me. One more thing to lose.” He said as he slid it under the brick.

The night was dark and not as cool as he had hoped. It had rained all night, and was still drizzling, but there was a humid warmth in the air. The trail was filled with mud and puddles, making the going trickier than the treacherous journey already was.

“Klo! Klo!” Are you up? Klo?”

“Good morning Thara.”

“Have you seen Klo? Can you go wake him up and tell him it is time to go.”

The young man nodded his head. And disappeared into the dorm room.

James looked around into the darkness. A few distant lights, but that was it. It was near total darkness, until moments later Klo stumbled out of the dorm room.

“Okay, let’s go. “

“Oh, is he coming with?”

“Yes, we both go. One in front, one behind.”

James looked at both questioningly, and then said, “Okay.” The questioning look would have had more of the desired effect had it not been pitch black outside, and couldn’t see his face.

The path was dark and filled with puddles and mud, dogs were stumbled upon unsuspectingly, and chickens scampered out of the way. Most the homes were as silent, as they themselves were silent and dark. Except a few which were filled with early morning Buddhist chanting.

The group of three walked by inconspicuously in the night, Klo in front, James in the middle, and the friend behind, lighting James’s feet.  There were a few people they crossed, at which times the lights went off and they kept walking. They were never suspected.  

They came to the final turn. A large building, the lights were on, shining light into the courtyard they had to cross. Klo walked to the edge and looked. There was no one. Quickly they ran across the empty courtyard and hopped over the fence, where they met the river.

“It seems louder than normal.”

“Yes, there is the white bridge.”

“It is very high. I don’t think we can cross.”

“Dang it Klo! We can’t cross? This package has important documents; I need go get to Laos! This is not game of Pick-Up-Sticks!”

“I know, that is why we can’t cross. Everything would get wet, we would probably get washed down!  This is serious! There are men over there with guns! Real life guns, if they find us, who knows what could happen!”

“Get out of the way, I’ll be the judge of that.” James pushed Klo to the side, nearly knocking him down, and stepped toward the river. He looked at the raging stream. He had crossed it before when most of it was hardly even ankle deep, now the bottom was not visible anywhere. The deepest parts were likely to be above his chest. He breathed heavily, took a final look and gritted his teeth. He then turned back to Klo.

“Dang it Klo, you are right. We can wait one more day, and only one more day. We will have to come again tomorrow. We leave at 5 a.m.

We took the 20 minute walk back, just as we had come. It was lighter by then, more trafficked and we were more depressed. One day of waiting in the heat.

The day creaked by like ice sliding down sandpaper on no greater than a 5 degree incline. The temperature rose to nearly humanly unbearable temperatures. This was lucky, because if the ice did not melt, there is absolutely no way that ice would slide down that small of an incline!

The evening mirrored the one the previous night, except there was no rain. There were clouds, and even some lightening that threatened, but no rain.

“We couldn’t cross, Dhay, the river was to deep.”

“To deep James? You know this is not a game of pick-up-sticks!”

“I know.”

“Well, it looks like there won’t be rain today, with luck the river should be down tomorrow.”

James went back to his room, just in time for the electricity to go out.

“I guess it will be a dark night.” James said to himself using his phone to light his final actions. Before jumping under his mosquito net for the night, Once more setting his alarm for 4:45.

“James!” Klo walked into the room, his music playing.

“Klo, I’m almost ready.” The same routine of waking up at 4:45, deciding to “rest” for five more minutes, and then waking up 4 minutes to 5 had happened again. This time Klo had beat him.

They walked together past the dorm, Klo ran inside.

James waited anxiously outside, but as the seconds turned into minutes, he became antsy. He wanted to call out, “Hurry Klo, this isn’t a game of Crochet!” But as he had been the first reason for delay, he felt he wasn’t justified, yet.

Klo eventually walked out, carrying only his flashlight and his phone and accompanied by no one.  

“Anyone else coming?”

“No, just us.” No further explanation was given.

The two walked on in silence, just as they had the previous morning. Except it wasn’t silent. Klo kept music blaring from his phone.

“Shouldn’t we maybe turn the music off, it kind of ruins the whole being inconspicuous thing?”

Klo ignored him. This could be because he could not hear James over his music, because he was angry at having to get up at 5 a.m. two mornings in a row, or because he was not particularly fluent in English and was not really sure what “inconspicuous” meant.  Whatever the reason, they carried on with the Thai version of the song More than Words following them every step.

They were a bit later than the previous morning, as such there were many more people on the path. Even the soccer field was filled with young men passing the ball around. This was pretty amazing considering it was still dark. They continued on with more people to avoid, but with no serious problems. Most the people were out preparing for market and getting ready for the day; people that did not care or take interest in the passing of a tall white American.

And so, without gathering too much attention, the couple made it to the river. Klo turned off the music. There was no more messing around. Both looked silently at the flowing stream which was still higher than it had been when James had arrived weeks ago, but lower than the previous day, together they stepped into the water.

The first part was the deepest, and it only went up to James’ knees. Holding each other on the shoulder, they crossed to the opposite shore. There was a light at the nearby house as they followed the path up to the road.

“Get down!” James said while he fell to the ground, laying on the grass hill, out of sight of the road. A few more cars went by. James waited for it to be silent before he stood up.   

“Where do I go? Over the bridge? Or just there on the other side of the street?”

“You wait there.” Klo pointed to the small dirt place across the street. “The bus will go that way.”

“Are you sure, Klo? This is no game of pick-up sticks!”

Klo simply nodded his head.

“Thanks friend.” They shook hands, and James jumped on the empty road and walked across, where he stood conspicuously waiting.

It did not take long for the dogs of the area to take notice. Several approached him. He stepped back, pulled out his belt and held his ground. They did not get any closer.

The wait went tediously slow. Cars drove by, James turned and pretended to be looking at his phone.  “I’m a tourist” he would say to himself, reviewing his plan if approached. He rehearsed the words in his mind several times.  There was no incident.

One minute before six the truck arrived. It had seats in the back so it was used like a bus.

“70 bhat?”

The man did not understand. James made the symbol for 7. The man nodded.

There was one man already in the truck. James bowed, but they remained silent. The next stop was in front of the main gate. There were lots of cars and people. Friday morning there is a market, and venders were there to sell their goods. The truck stopped for several minutes. James looked around at the various vendors, all Thai, then he turned towards the gate, Thai police. One was looking at him.

James turned straight forward. The truck had a roof over the bed where the clients sat, if he sat straight, his head was completely hidden in the ceiling. The only thing visible from the gate was his brown shirt. Finally they drove on, there was no incident.

They drove past several other gated entrances, most were not manned. Several people entered, and some got out. Before getting to the next town, the police stopped the truck. James knew they were only there to check for contraband, they cared nothing about people. The policeman greeted him, “good morning.”

“Good morning.” James replied smiling. Soon they were going on. The two police officers, not realizing at all what had just slipped past them. James felt under his shirt. Still there, still safe.

It was a forty minute drive in the best of circumstances to the next town where he would catch the bus. The best that could happen is that no one would stop them. It seemed he was good. But at one stop, policemen were there. The truck stopped and he walked up to the bus.

“How is it going officer!” James began, trying to put him off by becoming a friend. “Did you watch the Thai-China soccer game last night? Wow, Thailand certainly did a number on them.”

Did the ruse work? Well considering the officer didn’t speak English, James could have been saying, “I am drug-trafficker” and it would not have mattered. However, as the officer did not know English, not even enough to ask for anything, he just decided to not bother, and James was soon at the bus station getting a taxi to take him to his Mae Sot connection.

As he jumped on the back of the motorcycle and took off down the road with the wind brushing through his hair, he reached with one hand to check for the small bag. Still there, he smiled contently to himself. Feeling that no one could stop him from his mission…

To be continued