The Road to ... Maehongson

A Lisu Child Waits For Her Mother to Complete ATM Transaction In  Soppong

Today I was going to write a blog about the shaving of young boys heads prior to the start of this year's Poi Sang Long Festival in Maehongson.  However a news item this morning persuaded me to write instead a blog about the road, well actually roads, to Maehongson.

Early this morning, a bus from Udonthani, our home town, to Chiang Mai, the jumping off point to Maehongson, ran off the road and over a cliff killing five passengers and injuring 51 others.  It took over two hours for rescuers to commence extracting the people from the wreckage.  In addition to the coincidence of us returning home by way of Chiang Mai , the accident occurred on the route that we drove four years ago to Chiang Mai on our way to Maehongson.

Sadly and unfortunately, tragic bus accidents here in Thailand are all too common.  We used to travel to Bangkok by night bus but after seeing the wreckage of several buses over the past 6 years and reading of many fatal accidents we no longer travel by bus.

Besides the normal risks of badly lighted roads, kamikaze motor-bicyclists  poor lane demarcation  and  vehicles going 30 KPH (20 mph) and vehicles going 110 KPH (66 mph) all sharing the same two lane 90 KPH Max road, travel by bus has additional risks of driver fatigue, improper or non-existent maintenance, speeding, and amphetamine abuse by drivers.

There are many stories about reckless bus drivers.  My favorite is about the bus where the driver would not slow down despite the pleas and screams of the passengers.  He did slow down and drive more safely when one of the passengers, an off duty policeman, walked up to the driver and put a pistol to his head.  Having ridden on many buses and being aware of some other stories about police here, I believe the story.  Perhaps this anecdotal evidence could be used in the USA to resist gun control efforts and encourage "carry and conceal" permits - you never know when you will encounter a berserk bus driver!

For this years trip we decided to go south from our home rather than going west like we did the previous trip and that the buses do.  Our directions to Maehongson were Highway 2, Highway 12, Highway 11, Highway 107 and Highway 1095.  Taking the bus route saves about one hour but adds about 3 more highways and the roads travel through many more villages and shares the narrow roads with more buses.

Both routes take you through national parks where there are warning signs "Watch Out for the Elephant" and graphics indicating elephant crossings.  These warnings are for wild elephants.  We did not see any elephants or any evidence that elephants had used the road recently.  I was definitely not disappointed.  I do not want to encounter a wild elephant along a remote road either in or out of our vehicle.

North of Chiang Mai, you leave Highway 107 and take Highway 1095 to Maehongson. Highway 1095.   Unfortunately we had to drive the roughly 130 km to Pai in the dark and worse yet in the haze created by many fires burning in the forests through which the road twists and turns.  The road is not lighted and in many places there is neither a center line demarcation or demarcation of the road's edges.  Several times, I made right hand turns not confident that the wheels on the far side of the truck were going to remain on the road and not go off into the abyss.  After 15 hours of driving we finally arrived at our hotel in Pai, much to our relief.

Soppong - Lisu women wait for transportation to their village

The next morning with good light and a great night's sleep, we set off on Highway 1095 for Maehongson.  After about two hours, we stopped at the market of Soppong also known as Pangmapha.  The morning market in Soppong is extremely interesting.   Hill tribe peoples of the surrounding area come to sell and buy necessities, foodstuff, and other items need to maintain their lifestyles in the hills.  Lahu, Lishu, Karen, and Shan people commingle along the sides of Highway 1095 each group distinguished by their distinctive clothing and hairstyles. 

Lisu Women Selling Their Goods In Soppong

A Lahu (Masur) Vendor

After taking photographs and purchasing some fruit for the remainder of our journey, we left Soppong behind.  Two hours and many many curves, we finally arrived in Maehongson.

Young Lisu Woman At Family Table in Restaurant

Coming Soon - 2013 Poi Sang Long

There are many festivals here in Southeast Asia.  The festivals occur year round so there always seems to be something interesting going on some where.

Four years ago we drove over to Maehongson (Mae Hong Son) to attend a local festival. "Poi Sang Long".

I wanted to return some year to witness the festival once again.  This year seemed like a good time to go back.

Poi Sang Long is a Shan religious festival where young boys are ordained as Novice Monks.  I had previously written blog entries about our previous visit to the festival.

http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2009/04/poi-sang-long-ritual-day-one.html

http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2009/04/poi-sang-long-ritual-day-2.html

http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2009/04/maehongson-02-april-2009.html

http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2009/04/maenongson-03-april-poi-sang-long.html

The festival is held in Late March or Early April each year.  There are actually several festivals in the area with local Wats scheduling their celebration to suit their needs.  There are also Poi Sang Long Festivals held in Chiang Mai.

If you check the Internet you will not get specific dates for the festivals.

I had kept a Thai pamphlet regarding the Poi Sang Long Festival held at the neighboring Wats - Wat Jong Klang, and Wat Jong Kham.  I noticed that there were three phone numbers at the end of the pamphlet.  I asked Duang about them and she told me that they were phone numbers for the Monks.  Today she called the first number for me and the number was no longer in service.  However the second number was an active number for the head Monk.  From him, Duang determined that the festival for the two Wats will commence on April 2 around 14:00 with the cutting of the young boy's hair and shaving their heads.  This is not usually listed as the start of the festival but for me it is an integral part of the experience.  The three day festival will run until April 5th.

I had already done some research and discovered that it would cost $800 USD to fly round trip to Maehongson and once there we would have to rent a vehicle.  With that in mind, I had decided weeks ago that we would drive.  I had driven there on our last trip and for much less than $800 I can do it again.

This afternoon I made our reservations for our hotel in Pai and in Maehongson.  Pai is a good stopping point on our way to Maehongson and we have a cottage were we stayed on our last trip - Belle Villa Hotel $46 with breakfast.  We will be staying in Maehongson at the hotel that I have stayed at on all four of my previous four trips to the area - Imperial Tara Mae Hong Son Resort - $43 a night with breakfast.  Both are excellent facilities and definitely easy on the credit card.

The next few remaining days will be busy ensuring the truck and my photography gear is ready for the trip.

Maenongson 03 April - Poi Sang Long

Thursday 03 April 2009, was the fourth and final day of Poi Sang Long Festival in Maehongson. It was also known as "Kham Sang Day". Although it was the final day in Maehongson, Poi Sang Long festivities were starting on Thursaday at Mork Jam Pae Temple in Muang district, and Wat Pa Kham temple in Pai district. People told us that at one place there would be 100 Sang Long (jeweled Princes). This was good information for future reference for our plans were to witness the final Maehongson procession in the morning and then to spend the remainder of the day at the Baan Huay Sua Tao refugee camp.

The procession on the last day of Poi Sang Long in Maehongson was restricted to circumambulation of Jong Kum Lake three times in front of the Wats. Once again a good number, 3, played a distinctive part in the ceremony. I am sure that the number 3 is representative of Buddha, the teachings of Buddha, and the Buddhist religious community.

Prior to the start of the morning procession, many families posed for photographs with their Sang Long. Mothers, Fathers, Grandparents, and siblings assembled around their jeweled Prince to be photographed by another family member or friend. Their sense of pride was very evident much like graduation photos in America.

Today was a little different in that some of the porters carrying the Sang Long around were very energetic. Some of them showed off their strength and agility by dancing around with the boy atop their shoulder. A couple men got into an impromptu competition to see who could bend their jeweled Prince lowest and most parallel to the ground. Yes - the acrimonious banging, clanging, and drumming music continued. There was quite a festive air to the morning event. After the procession, the boys entered the Wat and were ordained. We did not stick around for that and left that as a reason for having to return next year for Poi Sang Long.


After the procession we headed out to Baan Huay Sua Tao. As with the previous refugee camps there were few tourists visiting. As I was pulling over to park the truck along side of the road in the Shan village outside of the refugee camp, I spotted a very interesting sight. Three elephants were walking through the village. Rather than their handlers riding atop each elephant, there was a single mahout riding a bicycle besides the elephants. Occasionally he shouted out a command and all three elephants instantly obeyed. I jumped out of the truck and hustled ahead of the upcoming elephants to get some photos.

As we entered the refugee camp it was very reassuring. The wooden bridge over the stream that runs through the village had been upgraded. The village looked very much like it did two years ago only it had been maintained during the period to prevent deterioration. Soon we were recognizing familiar faces. We stopped by Khun La Mae and Khun Ma Plae's house and learned that they were not home but would return in a while. We headed to the higher portion of the camp and came upon Khun Mudan.

Khun Mudan was the young Paduang mother that I first photographed in October 2006 breast feeding her infant son. She now has a 5 month old daughter named "Peelada". Peelada was a very charming baby. She was very active and curious about all things. Hands, fingers, legs, arms, feet and toes were every where exploring her world. To all of her body movements she had a wide range of sounds. Khun Mudan recognized us and in no time at all Duang had confiscated little "Peelada". We both had a quickly passed 30 minutes playing with Peelada and to a lesser extent her brother. He is a grown up 3-1/2 year old now so he is very independent. This is it for Khun Mudan. She has had two babies by C-section and will have no more children. She lives with her mother-in-law and husband so she has help with the children. It seemed ironic that Duang's 12 week old grandson is named "Peelawat". I am certain between Peelada and Peelawat there is in deed a great deal of "pee".

As Duang continued her conversation with Khun Mudan in Thai, I headed off and took photos of a Paduang women washing and brushing her teeth. I also found an older Paduang woman straining tea into a thermos bottle. These were people that looked very different from all the other people that I have seen in my life all over the world. But they were doing what all other people do every morning every where. Personal hygiene or preparing meals is not much different around the world.





We decided to check in on Khun La Mae and Khun Ma Plae once again. It was not much of a surprise. They were expecting us and warmly greeted us. The camp grapevine had notified them of our presence in camp.

Khun La Mae is no longer the village headman. He was replaced by another man about a year ago. No matter the case, I told him that I still considered him to be a friend even though he was not "big man" any more. I had seen enough of the camp and observed the inhabitants sufficiently to tell in confidently that the state of the camp as well as its people was a testament to his and the new headman's leadership. The camp and its people were in much better state than the other two camps that we had visited. Khun La Mae informed me that the camp was going to butcher a pig that afternoon and that there would be a festival the next day. As tempting as the offer was to stay with them in the camp and to extend our trip by an extra day, we declined. It was getting tiring and we needed to get back home as scheduled. We promised to return later in the afternoon and returned to the hotel for lunch.

After lunch and relaxing for a short period of time in our air conditioned room, we drove back out to the refugee camp. I did not know if I would have to pay admission to reenter the village. It turned out to not be an issue. I showed my receipt from the morning and was waved through.

When we got to Khun La Mae and Ma Plae's home, they were busy with some friends. The men were drinking Lao Kao - the infamous moonshine of the region. I was given a glass with two shots in it and downed it. I then made sure that everyone knew that I would not be drinking because I was driving. They respected my position and from then on only kept offering me and filling my glass with rice wine. There were three plastic garbage cans of the fermenting brew awaiting the festival to start the next day. The rice wine was exactly like the brew that we drank at the Khmu New Years Festival in Laos during our December trip except that it did not have vinyl tubing to suck on. Khun Ma Plae served the wine in a glass direct from the fermentation vat - complete with rice grains, chaff, hulls and assorted other debris. I quickly developed a techinque where I strained the drink with my teeth and then discretely picked and spit debris out of my mouth onto the dirt floor. Even so it was hours before the last of the debris was finally expelled from my mouth. All in all it was some pretty good stuff.

Writing of good stuff - Khun Ma Plae was also preparing food. She prepared the food and the men grilled it on an open wood fire. It was just as well that she prepared the food because some of the men did not appear to be in any condition to be handling knives. Although I refrained from drinking moonshine, there was no reason for them to refrain or even moderate their consumption. We ate with the people - the first time that I have eaten grilled pig intestines. Actually the first time that I have knowingly eaten pig intestines cooked in any manner or raw. It was not that bad tasting - sort of like eating a hot dog with very thick casing and nothing inside.


While we were eating and drinking, two Kayaw men walked by with a pig slung underneathe a bamboo pole that they carried between them on their shoulders. This was the "guest of honor" for tomorrow's festival. I ended up going to the back part of the village to photograph the children playing a game on the school play field. It was an interesting game. It appeared to be a fusion of cricket, dodge ball, bowling, and baseball. Lacking a ball to play with, the children had created a ball out of a plastic sandwhich bag and some small rocks and forest debris. A stack of empty metal "Birdy" drink cans was erected at one end of the field. A girl threw the "ball" at the pyramid and missed. The boys taunted her. A boy picked up the "ball" threw it and knocked down several cans. The girl ran and picked up the ball as he ran to a "base". He got off the base and taunted the other players to throw at him. While this was going on some of the other players were hustling to reerect the pyramid out of the cans. This action appeared to be correlated to the time that the boy spent off or on the base. It was confusing to watch but the children were enjoying themselves - except for when they were arguing over some fine points of the game - which was often

After observing the children playing and realizing that I would never understand their game, I headed over to where the pig was being butchered. The animal had already been dispatched when I arrived. The men with assistance from the women were busy shaving the hair off of the pig. The men used long knives to scrape the hair and bristles off of the pig. The women were busy in the houses boiling the water required to scald the hair and bristles. Children of all ages gathered around and watched with great interests. No doubt these children can answer the question of "Do you know where your meal came from?". I am certain that they can even tell you how it came to their plate. I photographed the process and left shortly after the insicision had been made and the men were pulling out the pig's entrails. I left just in time. Not that I was squeamish - surprisingly not but Duang had set out looking for me and was wondering where I had disappeared to. I guess she had her fill of intestines.

During our little get together, we were joined by a Kiwi (New Zealander) who now lives in Australia. Wayne had spent the night in the camp and was going to stick around for the festival the next day. He was an "alright and decent chap" as they say. He offered to burn some CDs of Ma Plae's music on his computer so that she had more copies to sell at the family's booth in the camp. Wayne is one of those people who are travelers and not tourists. He spends time to learn and experience the lives of the people that he encounters on his journeys. More importantly, he takes the time and makes the effort to help out in any way that he can. In our conversation about taking photographs, he mentioned about the things that you could do on the Internet. I told him that I had a blog as well as a photography site. He asked who I was, so I gave him my name and the name of this blog site. He exclaimed "I know you, I read some of your blogs and I have seen your photos!" It was a very pleasant surprise to meet someone who follows these efforts. I know that to date since February of this year this blog site has been visited 408 times from 43 different countries. The top two countries are USA (29 states) with 123 visits and Thailand in the lead with 139 visits. The associated photography site http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/ has had 307 visits from 41 countries. For the photography site, the leading country is the USA (33 states) with 132 visits followed by Thailand with 66 visits. It was a pleasant surprise to meet and talk to a human associated with some of those numbers.

Maehongson 02 April 2009 - Afternoon

Back to catching up on the activities and events of our trip to Maehongson -

After watching the Poi Sang Long parade in the morning, we returned to the hotel to freshen up and eat lunch before heading out for the afternoon.

There are three camps in the Maehongson area where Paduang people live and you are allowed to visit. They are Baan Nai Soi, Baan Huay Pu Keng also known as Baan Nam Piang Din and Baan Huay Sua Tao. We had previously visited the camp at Baan Nai Soi, so the agenda for the afternoon was to visit the camp at Huay Pu Keng.

Using the local map from a previous trip and memories from past visits to the area, we set off to find the boat landing where we could rent a long tailed boat to take us to the village. It was actually a great deal easier than I had anticipated. I had checked with the desk at the hotel and verified that there actually two boat landings with the second boat landing a little further down the asphalt road from the first. This information came in very handy when we arrived at the first boat landing and found it to be closed. We drove further down the road and located the second boat landing which we both instantly recognized from our trip two years ago.

On our last trip in the middle of April 2007, the boat landing was filled with tourist vans of international travellers. It was not the case this year. We were the only vehicle and tourists . As we approached the small ticket office I told Duang to tell the man that I wanted his best price for the trip (not the foreigner price) or I would go to the other boat landing (the one that we had just gone to that was closed). I think the man understood enough English to get my joke. He quoted a price and I asked if it included admission into the camp. He added the amount that we had paid to enter Baan Nai Soi for me and indicated that Duang did not have to pay because she is Thai. I then pulled out my wallet and started to pay the man and completely blow our "hard bargaining". He had quoted 685 baht ($19.57 USD) to have the boat take us to the village and back when we decided to return including admission fee to the camp. I started to pull out 1,370 baht when he as well as Duang started to protest. The quote was "all in" for both of and was not for each of us. We had a good laugh to my relief and definitely not at my cost. I was impressed with the man's honesty. I explained to Duang that typically in America, those types of costs are quoted on a "per person basis". So it is important to ask and understand exactly what the quote includes and its basis no matter where you are. Sometimes it is different than what you expect or are accustomed to.

We climbed into our narrow wooden boat which was propelled by a recycled car engine mounted on the stern. It was a very pleasant journey along the river to the settlement. There was no traffic on the river. Fires 4 inches to 6 inches high were burning down the hillsides to the water's edge in several locations.

Baan Huay Pu Keng was the single village where all the Paduang people were supposed to or at least were encouraged to relocate to. I had heard this from Freida two years ago. I had read that additional facilities were going to be built and others improved at Huay Pu Keng to accommodate the new residents. As we approached the village, I did not see any new construction, It appeared to me that the village was two years older without any maintenance over the ensuing two years since our last visit. I suppose that this is not the first time nor will it be the last time that government as well as politician's intentions or promises get "delayed" or don't happen at all. There is an expression often used in Thailand - "Same, Same"


We walked into the village and came upon a little girl playing a guitar that was larger than she was. She was on the porch of her house with her mother, brother, sister and another woman with her daughter. The other people were occupied preparing raw garlic to eat while the little girl played and sang Karen music. We approached the little girl and we were quickly seduced by her charm.

The little girl was four years old. She was quite the entertainer. She did her repertoire of songs for us. She had a very animated singing style and was obvious that she enjoyed being the center of attention. The adults joined us and it appeared that they were happy to have someone to talk to. Duang and the two women talked, and talked and talked some more. I suspect, as someone who had lived in a closed camp for awhile, that the people had grown tired of each others stories and were happy to listen to someone new with different stories. I was in my own world taking pictures so the time passed very quickly for all of us. The little girl's mother grabbed the guitar and performed some songs. The little girl joined in and was very thrilled to be able to sing with her mother. The girl also put on quite a show of animated motion to the songs - much like small children in America singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" or "Wheels on the Bus". We spent so much time with the families that the little girl ended up wearing herself out. Just like most children her age, she got a little cranky and ended up cuddling up on her mother's lap for comfort. It was a treat to see the child learning from her mother how to play the guitar and sing the songs associated with their culture. It was reinforcement for me of my goal in my photography to show how different we all appear but that we are all alike. These are extraordinary people in difficult circumstances doing exactly what other people do everywhere else in the world.

With the little girl drifting off to sleep, we said goodbye and promised to return later in the year. We walked up further into the village and came upon a Kayaw (Big Eared) woman that we met on our last trip. We recognized each other and sat to talk. She was eight months pregnant with her second child. Her daughter, about 8 years old was busy eating as we got caught up on the events of the past two years. She confirmed that Freida was now in the closed refugee camp.

After walking around the village a little bit more we headed back down the hill to the boat. After stopping by the refreshment stand run by the Shan family with the twin daughters and "naughty little boy" we set off back in the boat. The naughty boy is now 7 years old with a buzz haircut and was wearing military clothing that said "US Army". He is still more of a terrorist than any type of professional soldier. I gave him some help as to how to properly salute - American style. If he ends up with some other nation's military clothing, I hope and trust that some passing tourist will give to him the appropriate instructions. I hold out no hopes as to him getting discipline.

As our boat pulled into the river we passed several children enjoying themselves swimming and diving in the cool water. Young Paduang girls with brass rings around their neck were immersed up to their necks in the water keeping cool on a hot and humid late afternnon in the Thai - Burma border region.

Maehongson 02 April 2009

Wednesday 02 April 2009, the third day of the festival called "Hae Krua Lu Day", by all official and unofficial accounts, there was to be the big parade through town as part of the Loi Sang Long ritual. The parade was scheduled to start at 7:00 A. M. so we got up at 5:00 A. M. to get over to the Wat at 6:00 A. M. to catch the preparations.

We arrived at Wat Jong Kum-Jong Klong just before 6:00 A.M. in plenty of time to witness the preparations for the grand procession. The Wat's grounds were filled with family member in their best clothing. Relatives were going to walk in the procession along with the jewelled princes and their porters. As part of the procession today the families were carrying offerings to be made at the Wats.

In general the offerings were carried by the women and young children. The children carried small decorative bowls, flowers, and small decorative objects such as candle holders. The women carried buckets of toiletries, linens, food items, and pillows suspended from a bamboo pole carried between the two women on their shoulders. It seemed a little ironic that this procession was occurring just before Easter. The parade participants were definitely dressed in the Shan equivalent of their Easter suits.


Just as in the previous procession through town this procession was led by the Shan elders and the fancy horse. The shaman type man, dressed in white, carried a fancy offering bowl that was filled with some plants as well as a bottle of drinking water. Today there were two floats that would be hand carried by four men along the route. One float was a model of a Wat. It was very fancy and about 15 feet tall which required a great deal of focus as well as care to carry it beneath some of the utility lines that crossed streets on the parade route. Fortunately there were no incidents during the parade involving this float. The second float was shorter - about 8 feet high. It was also hand carried by four men along the parade route. It was a sort of pyramid shaped object made out of serving trays, bowls and dishes all topped off by a very fancy white lace umbrella.

Today unlike the previous parade there was a musical float - well actually it was a heavy industrial duty flat bed truck decked out with bunting. On top of the flat bed were four women dancers dressed in fancy outfits. The rear of the flat bed also contained the Shan band - four men - a drum player, a gong player, a stringed instrument player, and A LEAF BLOWER. No not a leaf blower machine to clean driveways but an elderly man who had a branch from a tree that he blew on the leaves to make music (more like squawking sounds). This is similar to the Hmong traditional music and communication technique using leaves that I had previously witnessed and wrote about in an earlier blog. Oddly enough the band put out some pretty good music. I am not sure that someone on the old Dick Clark TV show, American Bandstand", would have rated it very high because "It had a good beat and you could dance to it" but the female dancers had not trouble dancing to it.

Some of the relatives marching in today's procession carried long poles with decorations made out of tied handkerchiefs. I suspect that inside the handkerchiefs were some food offerings. Earlier in the trip I had sampled a Shan treat - a ball of popped rice in a caramel type binder. It was very to the Thai Cracker jacks that I watched being made in Isaan last Fall. Just as the treat was in Isaan, this was very tasty.

The parade got off more or less on schedule. We knew the route so we took a short cut and set up on the sidewalk awaiting the procession. As the procession advanced, elderly women would walk up to the various components of the procession and gently toss popped rice on the participants - including the horse. This was a sort of offering and blessings similar to tossing rice on newlyweds in the West.

One component of today's parade was a group of women who performed traditional dances. They were dressed in very pretty traditional Shan clothing. They were very graceful and like other groups in the parade, received popped rice offerings.

The jewelled princes were much more animated today. They bounced, waved fans in dance movements, and in general thoroughly enjoyed themselves.

After the procession passed by we returned to the truck and headed back to the hotel. We had breakfast, I showered, and we set out for the remainder of the day. The afternoon's activities will be in the next blog.

Maehongson 31 March 2009 Afternoon

After returning to the hotel, eating breakfast, and showering, we set off for the remainder of the day. I didn't have a specific itinerary for the day, but I did want to go out to the refugee camp at Baan Nai Soi to photograph "Freida" (Ma Jon) the young Paduang woman that I had met twice before. We also wanted to see how she, her mother and her sister were doing. I had heard and read that there had been an effort to relocate all the Paduang people (long necked women) to a single refugee camp. Prior to setting out we checked but did not double check and then verify that Paduang people remained at the Baan Nai Soi and Ban Huay Sua Tao camps.

We had a map with us and I remembered a great deal of the route from my previous trips to the area. As we approached the area where Baan Nai Soi is located we passed by two large wood barns similar to the tobacco drying barns that I saw as a youth in the Connecticut River Valley. Next to the barns was a field where several Shan people were busy working on stalks of dry garlic. We quickly turned around and returned to the sight to photograph the workers.

The workers were taking stalks of garlic that had been drying in the open field and placing them in bundles that were secured with wraps created out of long thin bamboo strips. The bundles of garlic were then hung over long bamboo poles. The garlic laden bamboo poles were then carried into the barns where they were hung creating a dense matrix of hanging stalks from ceiling to floor.

The Shan people grow garlic on a very large scale. It is rotated with their rice crops during the off growing season. Garlic is eaten raw as well as cooked in Shan cuisine.

We spent about 30 minutes with the workers talking and photographing them at work. They were curious as to where we were from, what we were doing, and where we were going. They were pleased to see pictures of themselves on the monitor of the digital camera. It is amazing how digital cameras have opened up the world. Now it is no problem at all to show people the results of your work. Often showing the people what you are trying to accomplish with your photography, increases their confidence and comfort with your presence. It is a wonderful ice breaker and works with people of all ages.

We found the exit off of the paved road on to the dirt road that leads to the Baan Nai Soi refugee camp without any problem. I remembered the water crossing and since we were in a pickup truck rather than a regular car, there was no difficulty. We continued on the rough, narrow, and dusty dirt road. We came to a steep rise in the road that appeared to have about 12 to 18 inches of talcum powder consistency dust on it. Learning from my previous experiences on Highway 1095 to Maehongson, I downshifted into a lower gear and speeded up to attack the rise. The truck made it about one half way up before bogging down. No problem, I put in the clutch and rolled down the hill to retry. Seeing a couple of motorbikes behind me, I waved them forward before trying to conquer the hill a second time. I dropped the truck into first gear, reved the engine up and let out the clutch. The truck aggressively attacked the hill and made it up 3/4 of the way of the hill before the fish tailing and lack of traction bogged us down. This was now serious! There were two people on a motorbike waiting for us to climb the hill before they descended. This was personal - me against the hill. I backed down the hill and got as far back as I could on what was a straight run before the hill. I put it in first gear, reved up the RPMs, and popped the clutch to build up as much speed as possible prior to climbing the hill. The engine was roaring. The back end was wildly fish tailing side to side but we were making progress. I countered the swerving rear end and kept the RPMs up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the motorcyclists as we passed them in a huge billowing cloud of tan dust. The people were closing their eyes and covering their mouths as we struggled by - but we made it. Duang and I laughed at how crazy the road was. Later at the hotel, we saw a layer of fine dust covering the back bumper.

Because Duang is a Thai citizen, she did not have to pay the entrance fee into the camp. Despite showing my Thai driver's license, I had to pay 250 baht ($7.15 USD). From the girl at the entrance booth we learned that we had just missed a festival at the camp. The three day festival had ended the day before. As we walked into the camp we were surprised at the state of the camp. Houses that we knew the people who lived in them were gone with only compacted dirt and a few bits of wood remaining. One half of the houses were gone. Very few people were visible. Unlike previous visits to this camp there was no contingent of school girls at the entrance to greet you or seduce into buying postcards, stationary, or other small trinkets. One little girl that we had previously met would also play her guitar and sing. We have seen her in documentaries regarding the Paduang people.

We found several men and women at a long table underneath the canopy of a village hut. They were spending a sunny and hot afternoon drinking coke, beer, as well as whiskey - perhaps leftovers from the festival. These people made no attempt to engage us in any conversation or tried to sell us anything. There was not much available to be bought at the little booths in front of the huts. We continued our walk around and through the village. We found a small hut that was the village health clinic. A young Thai man was in charge of the clinic and from him we learned that about one half of the people had relocated out of the camp. He works in the clinic on a grant from the thai government and also deals with NGOs for the benefit of the camp residents. As he prepared to each his lunch, we walked over to the group of residents that we had seen on our way in.

I asked about "Freida" (Ma Jon) and one of the men told me that she had died. I was shocked and asked when she had died. He said that she had died last year. Somehow I didn't quite believe him and asked him if he was joking. He eventually admitted that she had moved to another camp. She wanted to be located to a foreign country so she had moved from Baan Nai Soi into a closed camp of 20,000 people on the border. Tourists or "travellers" are not allowed access into the camp. Freida's mother and sister had also joined here in the closed camp. It was apparent that there were some issues between this man and Freida. I guess no matter who or where you are, there will always be interpersonal issues. We inquired about the sad elderly widow who had lost her daughter three years ago. The woman had moved away just like the school girl that used to greet people at the gate. It was a depressing place and it appeared that the people themselves were depressed.



We watched two young boys playing beach volleyball in front of the new school office hut. The old school buildings were very ramshackle and I suspect but could not confirm that they had been abandoned. We did find out that some of the children that remained in camp went to class in the new school office hut.



We came upon a young school girl. She reminded me somewhat of Freida. She had a brightness to her eyes and a charming personality that remind me of the waste of so much talent in this world due to economic or political adversity. This 11 year old girl, her 9 year old brother, and her 11 year old friend were manning a small booth. They study English, Thai, Burmese, and their native languages in the village school. They also study geography. I asked about science and she did not know what I was talking about.

We spent about an hour talking with the children before buying a couple of trinkets and setting back to the hotel. The girl asked if Duang could bring her some pants when we return. We plan on returning in September or October and will keep our promise.

We returned to town with both Duang and I thinking that the children's parents had not had their children's best interests in mind when they refused to relocate and elected to remain in this particular camp.

Maehongson - April 1 2009

There were no scheduled public Poi Sang Long events on April 01 that we were aware of. Despite assurances that there was nothing going on, I got Duang up and headed out to the Wats at 6:00 A. M. There was no acrimonious music to be heard - confirming that nothing was going on. Duang took it well but I did hear about a couple times during the day about how I had not listened to her. I told her it was an April Fool's joke to go to the Wat early in the morning and we both ended up laughing.

Duang wanted to see the Monk who lives in a cave so we headed north out of town and back up the long and winding road that goes to Pai (Highway 1095). We had stopped by the cave on our way into Maehongson the previous day but he was not there.

We stopped at the cave and the Monk was there. A young boy from the nearby village was preparing the Monk's food on a burner set directly above a LPG bottle. The food smelled good. We talked to the Monk for a while and received his blessing. I first visited him in October of 2006 and make a point to stop in and see him whenever I am in Maehongson. Today he had another Monk visiting him. While we were there a married couple from the local village arrived and made offering of food to the Monk. After they received their blessing, Duang talked to them and learned that the woman had a small restaurant at the entrance to Fish Cave National Park. From the woman we learned that the Monk's name was "Thom Padang".

When we had stopped at the Monk's cave the day before, I took photographs of the various statues of Buddha outside of the cave. Of the four trips to the cave, this was the only time that the statues were dressed in vestments. Each statue was covered with an orange cape that had fancy bead work on it. I told Duang that I thought that the cape had something to do with the Poi Sang Long Festival. Duang asked the Monk and found out that the sautes were wearing capes because the weather had been cool. After Songkran, 15 April, the Monk was going to remove the capes. Although we had visited the sight two years ago during Songkran, we did not see the statues clothed. Duang told me that she believes that before not too many people visited the Monk so he did not have the money to buy the clothing. Now he is apparently getting more visitors and has the material means to buy clothing for the statues. This would also help to explain why he now has a chain link fence and metal framed chain link door across the entrance to his cave as well other developments such as new tarps lining the inside of the cave. Dressing the statues is not limited to this location. In Bangkok, the King but most recently the Crown Prince change the clothing on the Emerald Buddha at the changing of each season in a very special ceremony. We bid farewell to the Monk and promised to return later in the year. Interestingly yesterday Duang informed me that the Monk had a special request for us. She had told him about why we in Maehongson and that we knew people in the Huay Suay Tao refugee camp. Apparently the Monk also knows Khun Ma Plae and requested a photo of her. Monks are celebrate and are not allowed to be touched by women. Thom Padang's request is interesting and I will be happy to comply. Duang believes that he will send us amulets that will protect us - he is supposedly Number 1 Monk for car accident prevention. With an amulet from him, we will not have an auto accident but if we were to have one - we would not be killed. OK. With the way I have seen so many people drive around here, I am not about to turn my back on any possible assistance to stay safe.

After visiting the Monk, we stopped at Fish Cave to grab a bite to eat at the woman's food stall. There were hardly any people at the park. There is typically 5 to 10 vans of tourists in the parking lot. There was only one other pickup truck besides ours. We ended up spending about 30 minutes sitting and relaxing with the woman and her young son.

We then drove to the Buddhist Meditation Center a little further up the road. We had discovered the retreat on our last trip to Maehongson. It is a very peaceful and relaxing setting with impeccably maintained grounds nestled along a fast flowing stream between a series of craggy hills. People from around the world go to the center to learn or to improve their meditation techniques.

As we pulled off of Highway 1095 to drive along the narrow road to the Center, we came upon four young boys absolutely enjoying themselves at the local swimming hole. A small dam across the stream running parallel to Highway 1095 has developed a small area of deeper water suitable for swimming. After overcoming their initial shock of me stopping the truck in the middle of the road, getting out, and starting to photograph them, the boys put on a show for us. They took turns running across the road and doing somersaults into the water. As I showed them their photographs, their enthusiasm increased proportionally. After demonstrations of their acrobatic prowess, there were a couple of races between the boys. It was entertaining for us to watch the boys enjoying themselves in such a simple and innocent past time.

We eventually arrived at the Mediation Center - we met the Abbott and he invited us to join the students for lunch. We had eaten at Fish Cave so we declined. As Duang paid her respects and made her offering to the Buddha shrine, the Abbott and I started talking. Duang joined us and we ended up talking for an hour prior to his next scheduled class. He was well educated and well travelled. He had travelled several times to the USA to teach meditation.

The Monk gave us his blessing, and gave us some unsolicited marriage counselling - I was to be sure to take good care of Duang as well as listen to her (how did he know about this morning?) and she was to take good care of me as well as to listen to me. As part of our discussions we talked about life in Thailand and in the USA. The subject of recent violence in America came up. I remarked that in general Americans had placed their faith in material things and material institutions. Now that there is a crisis and these items are wiped out or greatly reduced, these people have nothing left to believe in. Their faith and confidence have been greatly affected. For many this has deprived them of a moral or ethical compass to proceed with their life. The results are increased violence and depression - mental as well as monetary.

From the mediation Center we continued on to the end of Highway 1285. End of Highway 1285? On the map it showed that there was a market town of Ban Huai Phueng on the border with Myanmar (Burma). We had never been there before. We had time. We had a truck, so we headed north west. We passed another Army checkpoint without any incident. The Thai Army has many checkpoints in the area in efforts to prevent smuggling of refugees as well as amphetamines into Thailand from Myanmar.

After awhile the excellent two lane paved road narrowed down to a narrow road winding through small settlements. At one point where the road had narrowed to a single lane we came upon two large stacks of dried garlic bundles along side of the road. Two men were walking up a steep hillside to road level with huge piles of garlic suspended on both ends of a long bamboo rod carried over their shoulder. We stopped to photograph the men at their work. They were Shan farm workers paid to harvest the dried garlic from the fields in the land below the road elevation, transport it up the hill and stack it along the side of the road awaiting transport by truck to a large drying barn like we had visited the day before. The men work from 8:00 A.M. to 5:00 A. M. and earn 100 Baht ($3.50 USD) a day. This is back breaking manual work performed in a smoke filled atmosphere for $0.43 an hour. Of course there are no social security benefits, retirement plans, unemployment benefits, life insurance coverage or medical insurance available for these workers.

We spoke with the two workers and learned that they were happy because there was plenty of work available these days. I could not help but think that at $3.50 a day no doubt that there would be plenty of work available!

The men told us about the area up ahead on the road to the border. We set out for the market town but never got there. We got close but not there. When we were about 5 miles from the border we came to a roadblock. The military man was undoubtedly surprised to see a falang driving a truck out in the middle of no where headed for the Burma border. Through Duang I found out that the area was closed beyond the road barrier and that photography was not allowed. He was friendly and pleasant so I informed him through Duang that if photography was not allowed, I didn't want to go there. We all had a laugh. We turned around and returned to the garlic worker's work location.

I parked the truck off of the road and we walked over to better view the work. We climbed down the hill about 200 feet to a narrow bamboo bridge spanning a clear stream. I set up and photographed the men crossing the four bamboo stalk wide bridge with their loads of garlic on their journey to and from the garlic fields to the staging point high above along side the paved road. The land from the road to the stream was filled with long yai fruit trees. The long yai fruit is very tasty and refreshing. The long yai trees are also the favorite habitat of the red ants that the people of Isaan are fond of eating. It turns out that the Shan people also eat the ants and ant eggs.

The workers invited and eventually convinced us to cross the bamboo bridge. We followed the men across the bouncy bridge and joined them on the other side. The other side was a series of dry and harvested rice paddies. On a previous trip in December 2006 to the region, I had photographed local people planting garlic. Crops are rotated in rice paddies to optimize available growing seasons and to assist in improving the poor soil. After harvesting the rice crop in November, the Shan people had planted garlic as a supplemental crop. That crop has completed growing, drying in the field, and is now ready to be harvested in April. After navigating a maze of dikes surrounding the paddies and crossing some paddies we arrived at the work sight. Several men and women were on their knees busy pulling garlic bulbs out of the ground. They were surprised to see us, mostly likely me in particular. I surmise that not to many foreigners make it out to this garlic field.

In no time at all, Duang had charmed them and I had sufficiently amused them so everyone was comfortable as well as relaxed. My previous photographs at the bridge were facing the sun. Now that we were on the other side of the bridge, it was possible to have the sun at my back. I made my way back to the bridge over the flowing waters. Carefully selecting where to place my feet, I was able to make it to a large rock in the middle of the stream - safe, sound, and dry. I did have to share my perch in the stream with many small butterflies as well as many flying insects. The flying insects were annoying but apparently not health endangering.

I spent a good amount of time in the stream taking photographs of the men transporting the garlic across the bridge. I went back to the harvesting site to see that Duang had joined the team in harvesting the garlic. Since I was wearing my pakama on my head like Lao Loum men in Isaan, the Shan people decided that I needed to try my hand at harvesting garlic. After an initial failure in harvesting grass rather than garlic which created a great deal of laughing, I was able to make some progress harvesting the garlic. It was back breaking work. I joked that with the way I worked, I would make about 5 baht a day. The Shan people were not done with me yet. I had harvested a good handful of dry garlic on their stalks but not enough to create one of the many bundles required to be placed on the bamboo poles to be hauled up the hill. My picking partner gave me her garlic. A man came along and tied the stalks together with one of the many strips of bamboo that he had on his back. One of the porters that we had spoken to earlier came up to me with his loaded bamboo rod. My new bundle was added to the load and the bamboo pole with garlic bundles was placed over my shoulder. The bamboo rod is about 4 to 5 inches in diameter and about 6 feet long. Each end of the rod is loaded with approximately 25 pounds of garlic. It was definitely a load. I may have been able to make it to the bridge but there was no way I could have climbed the four bamboo rungs to get up on to the bridge. On a very very good day, if some how I had managed to get across the bridge with the garlic, I possibly and just maybe may I would be able to get the garlic up the 200 foot high 35 degree slope to the paved road. To do this for eight hours a day - no way! To do it for $3.50 a day and not complain - as they said in the 1939 classic film -"Gunga Din" based on the Rudyard Kipling poem - " You are a better man than I am, Gunga Din" The Shan farm workers have my admiration and respect. Once again the reality of the world collides with our past experiences and perceptions - another reason why I enjoy living in S.E. Asia learning and experiencing life from a different perspective.

We returned to the hotel around 5:00 P. M. exhausted, satisfied, and content with the day's activities as well the insights into other people's lives that we had witnessed.

Poi Sang Long Ritual - Day 2

Tuesday, 31 March, according to the Abbott of Wat Kum Klang, the "official" printed festival brochure, as well as several local people, was the morning when the young boys would be dressed up in their finery and made up to be paraded through Maehongson. After yesterday's serendipitous discovery of the head shaving ceremony, we were determined to check, double check as well as to verify exactly what event was scheduled as well as its starting time.

We got up at 4:00 A. M. so that we would be at the Wat for 5:00 A. M. As we approached the Wat on foot from our parking space across the lake, we heard the continued acrimonious clanging, banging and beat of the previous day's music. We learned that as long as this music was going on, something was happening.


We arrived just about the right time at the Wat. The bot was filled with family members attending to their young boy. This morning the "Sang Long" (jewelled sons) were being dressed up in fine silks, brocades, jewelery, and complicated millinery. Their mothers, sisters, and aunts applied makeup to the boy's face that would be the envy of any Bangkok or Pattaya Kathoey (Lady Boy). In fact I suspect that many American women would love to be made up and look as elegant as these young boys do. Each family set up their spot on the floor in the bot. A few foreigners freely mingled amongst the Shan people photographing and filming the Shan tradition. Outsiders were very welcomed by the families and the atmosphere was free and relaxed.

The boys were being made up to resemble Princes. When the dressing and makeup had been completed the boys looked like they were little Maharajahs out of some Rudyard Kipling story. This was not a Halloween masquerade type skit but a financially taxing attempt to emulate royalty. Some of the clothing cost upwards to 10,000 baht ($286 USD). We were told by one family that they had gotten the cloth for their son's outfit from Cambodia. The clothing was colorful, intricate, and very fancy. Dressing up your son for his ordination is very analogous to the tradition and social pressures in the USA for having your daughter get married. To suitably impress the relatives, neighbors, and friends, families take on a large financial burden. Almost $300 for a child's outfit even in the Western World is not a trifle amount. Here in Thailand the average farm worker makes 100 baht ($3.50) a day. A can of Coke or Pepsi costs 15 baht so although I often write about how cheap things are here in Thailand, I am using an American perspective. At 100 baht a day, the average Thai farm worker is not going to be buying too many cans of soda or saving very much money in a month. To stage this family celebration many families pool resources and many end up borrowing money to finance the spectacle. We met and spoke with some young boys who had not been through the Poi Sang Long ceremony because their family could not afford the expense. Peer pressure is very strong for every family to somehow and someway to come up with the money to participate in the tradition.

The fathers focused their efforts on dressing their son in all the various articles of clothing. The proud fathers also gave their sons words of comfort and guidance. Other male members of the family sat next to the young boy. In many places, hired men also sat next to the jewelled princes. Once the boy has had his head shaved, his feet no longer touch the ground. The jewelled prince is carried upon the shoulders of his father, grandfather, uncles, and older brothers. To supplement the contingent of male relatives, some families hire men to carry their son on top of their shoulders during the rituals and parades. In many cases the porters for a particular boy are smartly dressed in pastel tailored traditional Shan outfits. Several men are required to carry the boy along the parade route. As a man becomes tired, the boy is transferred to a fresh man for his turn to carry the jewelled prince. Some of the porters with a great deal of energy from the clanging and banging music or perhaps the whiskey that you could smell on their breadth, danced enthusiastically with the boy on their shoulders. A couple of the porters appeared to have a de facto contest as to which one of them could get their prince lowest and most parallel to the ground without dropping him. I suspect that these were professional porters and not some one's crazy uncle or older brother. The fact that no princes were dropped also leads me to believe that professionals were at work. The mothers completed the outfitting of their princes by placing their gold chains around their necks and placing gold rings on their fingers. It was interesting to watch combinations of tape and yarn being utilized to ensure that the family jewels stayed on the boys small fingers.

After all 40 boys had been prepared, they ate a small breakfast of fried rice and plain water. They were carried outside to be organized into parade formation. Outside family members congregated awaiting the start of the early dawn parade. A small Asian breed of horse was waiting outside to lead the parade. The horse was immaculately groomed - to the extent that its mane had been cropped where a large garland of flowers had been carefully placed around its neck. Two men wearing traditional Shan clothing tended and led the horse. Another man who appeared to be some type of shaman led the parade along side of the horse. He was dressed in white pants and tunic with his head covered in a white turban. He carried a ceremonial offering bowl.

The boys were carried on the shoulder of a man and was surrounded by men in waiting - waiting to have their turn at carrying the boy on their shoulders. Each boy is also shielded by a large ornate golden umbrella attached at the end of a long wood pole carried by a man walking to the side of the elevated boy. The umbrellas were very ornate and decorated with flowers, garlands, and intricate decorations. The umbrellas are also heavy and unwieldy
, so just as in the case of the boy, men take their turn in carrying the umbrella and ensuring that it shelters the specific boy.

Some families also hire "professional" musicians to bang gongs, clang cymbals, and play the unusual drum in the same style as we had been hearing since arriving in Maehongson. Some of the "bands" had long mechanical racks that played several cymbals at the same time. Two men carried the rack and a third man "played" the cymbals by moving a lever back and forth. The din of the amateur musicians along with the professionals created quite an atmosphere.

The parade left the Wat complex at sunrise and headed through downtown Maehongson. The entourage stopped at a local temple in the center of town. The purpose of the stop was for the boys to let the spirits know that they were becoming Monks and to ensure that the boys had been forgiven. The parade then moved through the airport on the edge of town to visit a Buddhist temple. At this location the boys requested forgiveness from the Abbott. It was at this point that we decided to move on to our hotel to shower and have our breakfast. It had already been a long and tiring morning even though it was 8:00 A.M.

Poi Sang Long Ritual - Day One

We arrived in Maehongson around 1:00 P.M on Monday 30 March. Upon checking in at the hotel we obtained a printed brochure regarding the schedule of activities for the four day festival. According to the hotel clerk and the recently printed brochure, there were no activities until the next morning. After the boys were to have their heads shaved at their homes they were scheduled to get dressed up in their finery at the Wat followed by a parade through the town.

Since we had not had lunch, we drove into town to eat and check on another source of information for the festival. We went to a restaurant noted for its tour services as well as its food across the lake from the Wats. This being Thailand, things are not always as they are initially described or scheduled. This is why I now make it a habit to double and triple check things - just to be sure or often - to get it right. So it was regarding the festival - the boys were scheduled to have their hair cut followed by having their head being shaved at the Wat at 2:00 P.M.!

We lingered over our lunch and soft drinks before walking over to the Wats on the other side of the lake. Lake is a rather generous term for the body of water in the middle of town. It is about 200 meters in diameter. The air around the Wats was filled with the sound of clanging cymbals and drum beats. It was obvious that something was going on or would be going on - eventually. The cymbals were banged in a staccato three beat grouping. The drumming was not in any noticeable rhythm that I could detect.

A stage had been built in front of the Wat on the temple grounds. Some people were occupied placing colored bunting on the stage. A canopy had been set up underneath one of the large trees on the temple grounds. Underneath the canopy, several young Monks, around 16 years old, were busy banging gongs and clanging cymbals. These young Monks would later take part in the hair cutting and head shaving ritual of the young Shan boys who would be ordained as Monks this year. They are following Buddha's son, Prince Rahula's path in becoming Monks at an early age. Removal of their hair symbolizes renouncing worldly possessions and goods - in old days long hair was symbolic of royalty.

An older man was busy walking around and dancing as he exuberantly played a drum. Some of his enthusiasm apparently came from alcohol as well as religious zeal. The drum was very unique instrument. It was about 6 feet long with an approximately 30 inches diameter drum head. There was a resonating chamber at the other end of the drum tube. The drum was suspended from the player's shoulder by a long saffron strap. The sound produced from tapping on the drum head with fingers was very similar to a bongo drum but a little more bass.

Other men as well as an elderly Monk were busy producing bamboo strips and weaving them into lattice works. The lattice works were later used to decorate some floats for the parade. The men and Monk took split pieces of bamboo and used a long knife to split narrow strips off of the bamboo. The tile floor of the canopy was covered with shavings and strips. The people used their bare feet to hold the lattice in place as they used their hands to weave additional strips into place. As they worked the clash, clang, and pounding of the music continued unabatted only being interrupted in sporadic interludes of increased frenzy. There were times that I got the impression that it was a sort of jam session but with only cymbals, gongs, and a single drum the range for creativity was quite restrictive.

Around 2:00 P. M. nothing different happened. We asked around and were told that it would be at 2:30 P. M. As 2:30 P. M. approached the music continued. The men continued their activities. Nothing else was started. We were told that the ceremony would actually start at 4:00 P. M. A little before 4:00, some of the younger Monks arranged forty plastic chairs into a large u shape in front of the Wat. This was a hopeful sign but also a sign that nothing was going to happen at 4:00 P.M. Around 4:15 P.M., the Head Monk, the Abbot, came out and seemed to take charge of the preparations. This was a very very good sign. At the same time, pickup trucks started to arrive with young boys, family members, and more cymbal, gong, and drum players. The volume and intensity of the music increased greatly. There was definitely an air of excitement and anticipation throughout the area.

At 4:30 the ceremony actually got started. A young boy was seated in each of the plastic chairs - 40 boys in all. Each boy was surrounded by his family. After a little speech from the Abbott and a blessing, the ceremony started. The first part of the ceremony was cutting the boy's hair.

The boys wearing their colorful super hero or cartoon tee shirts and short pants sat rigidly in their chair. These boys were about to take a very important step in their religious and temporal life. They were now the center of attention and the representatives of their family. Although these boys were seven to fourteen years old, it was obvious that they were trying their best to bring honor to their family. It was also entertaining to see some moments when the boys were busy being boys such as sharing their hair clippings with their friend, or grimacing at the irritation from their shorn locks.

The boys sat with a large lotus leaf in their lap. Using regular scissors, relatives take turns snipping off locks of hair and placing them into the lotus leave. It is considered an honor to cut the hair and the relative order in which a person cuts the hair is indicative of the respect as well as esteem that is held by the family for the participant.

The Abbot patiently made his rounds ensuring that he cut some hair from each of the young boys. Many people were mingled amongst the family members photographing or filming the ritual. I was a little surprised how few foreigners there were at the event. I estimate that there were no more than 25 foreigners. The impact of the world economy on Thailand's tourism industry was very apparent on this trip. The local Shan people were very accepting and gracious at the outsiders photographing and filming their special event. As is the case at all of these religious events, people's manners are very good.

After family and friends had their opportunity to cut some hair, it was time to shave the boy's head. Prior to shaving the boy's head, family members usually a mother of grandmother poured water on to the boy's head. Some waters were scented with flowers or perfume. There was no shaving creme, gel, or foam in sight. A couple boys had some soap rubbed into their hair. It was during the head shaving portion of the ritual that the demeanor of the boys changed. It could almost see in their face a look of seriousness and in some cases trepidation. These feelings were visibly mitigated by the close and tender attention given to the boys by their family and the Monks. It was a special ceremony that reinforced family, religious, and community ties.

The shaving of the heads was a time consuming effort shared by men, women, and Monks. Just as in the case of the hair cutting, the Abbot made his way along the lined up chairs to shave a little of each of the forty young heads. The other Monks of the Wats joined in to help shave the heads. It appeared that the Monks shaved about one-half of each head with the remainder done by family members.

After their head had been completely shaved, inspected and accepted the boys were washed off with buckets and bowls of scented and unscented water. Many boys had a pomade of powder and water applied to their newly bald heads. The boys retired to the inner areas of the temple complex to spend the night and await the next step in their ordination the following morning. Snippets of hair and shavings were gathered up and removed by some younger Monks.

The forty boys, soon to be Monks, had completed the first step in demonstrating their renunciation of their worldly possessions by having their heads shaved. They had started their individual journey in following Prince Rahula's footsteps.