New Gallery is available - "Thailand Tobacco"

A new gallery of 17 photographs, "Thailand Tobacco" is now available for viewing on my photography website.

Most of these photographs were taken around 2:00 AM along the bank of the Mekong River separating Thailand from Lao People's Democratic Republic (LPDR).

http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/Thailand-Tobacco

Korb Siarn Khru Ritual Gallery Is Available

Khone Mask

A new gallery has been added to my photography website:

http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/Korb-Siarn-Khru-Ritual

The gallery contains 26 black & white photographs of a special occult ritual conducted in some parts of Thailand associated with Thai Saiyasart.

An earlier entry of my blog provides some insight into this unique ritual and practise.

https://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2016/05/korb-siarn-khru-2016.html

It is a glimpse into a world not viewed by most tourists to the "Land of Smiles"

A Wedding Pig

WARNING:  The following narrative and photographs contain elements that some people may find disturbing

Living in Northeast Thailand, I am often witness to many unique cultural events, celebrations, and activities that are far different than my experiences of growing up and being educated back in New England.  I always strive to share these different the unique culture here in Isaan accurately and hopefully non-judgmentally.

Earlier this month, my wife and I drove out to Ban Thasang, her home village, for the preparations for her nephew's wedding the following day. The preparations involed family and friends gathering at Duang's sister's farm to eat and drink after making contributions to help pay for the wedding. Nephew's wedding?  Pay for the wedding?  As Duang so often says and I am so fond of quoting ... "Thailand not same as Amireeka"

In Northeast Thailand, a region called "Isaan", there is a custom and accepted practice of "Sin Sod". Sin Sod is essentially a dowry provided by the Groom and/or his family to the Bride's family. The payment is a complex and multifaceted act by the Groom.

First of all it demonstrates his ability to support his wife to be - sort of ironic in that many Grooms have to borrow in order to accumulate the required funds for the Sin Sod.

Secondly, payment of the Sin Sod is a display of commitment and respect of the Groom for the Bride as well as for her family.

Lastly, the Sin Sod is a form of financial support for the Bride's family. A large Sin Sod is also a sign of prestige for the parties involved - sort of bragging rights for both families. In Thailand as well as other Asian cultures, "face" is very important. A large Sin Sod buys a great deal of "face"

When a man and woman decide to get married, the man will have a close relative or trusted friend approach the woman's parents to determine the amount of the "Sin Sod" as well as the "Tong Mun" to be paid in order to have the marriage take place.

Tong Mun" is "gold engagement". In Thailand, "baht" besides being the name of the national currency, is also a measure for buying and selling gold. A "baht" of gold here is 15.244 grams in weight. Since gold in Thailand is 96.5% pure, approximately 23.2 Karat, a baht contains 15.16 grams of pure gold (0.528 ounces).

The "Tong Mun" is given directly to the Bride and remains her personal property. Here in Isaan there is a thriving business in selling as well as buying gold. Many women will sell their gold back for a short period of time to bridge over difficult financial times. The gold shops act as pawn shops to help people out financially - of course for a fee - 1%.  Gold shops are located in the malls, in the western style grocery "superstores", and as small shops in the towns.

Kumphawapi is a small town with approximately 26,000 people with at least 5 gold shops that I am aware of. Gold is mainly sold in the form of rings, necklaces, and bracelets. Necklaces run basically in whole numbers of bahts - 1, 2, 3, baht necklaces. The buyer pays for the gold content with a small premium for craftsmanship related to the ornate work of the piece.

The Tong Mun provides security to the woman. Security, for the Bride and her family, is a very important aspect of Lao Loum marriages.

The size of the dowry (sin sod) as well as the "Tong Mun" is negotiated prior to the wedding and is dependent upon  many factors including the age of the bride, her education, any previous marriage(s), if she has any children and also the social status of the groom - if he or his family can afford more he is expected to pay more.

A young ethnic Lao man marrying a young ethnic Lao woman will typically have a sin sod of 150,000 baht ($5,000 USD) and a Tong Mun of 5 baht ( roughly $3,125 USD).  This is a significant financial commitment for the groom in a land where farm labor makes roughly $10 a day and a mechanic at an auto dealership makes $670 USD a month.

The start of the day at Duang's sister's farm was straight forward.  I sat at a table under a rented canopy.  I was immediately offered food and drink.  Shortly, Duang's son and his family arrived.  Our two year old grandson, Pope, immediately saw me and ran to join me at the table.

We spent our time "talking" about cement trucks, cranes, and backhoes - his favorite subjects and toys.  Pope also entertained himself and me by picking up thin clods of dried compacted dirt.  He reveled in breaking them apart in his hands or pounding them into pieces against the plastic chairs.  When he was not able to break them apart, he handed them to me to finish the job.

As we were playing a small group of men, one of them carrying a hatchet, walked by with a small narrow cage made out of 1-1/2 inch tubing.

A short time later a heard screaming or more correctly - squealing coming from the nearby shore.  I knew what was going on.  I told Pope to stay, grabbed my camera gear and headed down to where the men were located - the men and a pig restrained inside of the killing cage.

Sticking the pig!

The pig was dying when I arrived. After about one or two minutes after I arrived, one of the men stuck a long knife two more times deeply into an existing wound to ensure that the pig had died

Washing off the pig

The pig was carried by four men, each grabbing on and holding a limb, to a spot under neath the shade and close to a wood fire heating a large pot of boiling water.  I walked over to where the pig was laying on its side upon a rough heavy table fashioned from recycled timber as is the custom here.

Shaving the pig

Pans of scalding hot water were poured over the carcass to facilitate the removal of hair.  After the scalding water was poured over a section, the men, often engulfed in the smoke from the nearby fire, used knives to scrape the hair and epidermis off of the carcass.  The combination of hair and skin easily came off the carcass.  Once the entire pig had been scraped and cleaned, it was washed completely and carefully.

The pig gets a complete and close shave

After the pig had been completely shaved and washed clean, four men rolled the pig on its back and each holding a leg, spread the legs away from the carcass. Two other men commenced making a long longitudinal cut along the center-line of the body. As the cut went through the abdominal wall, internal organs such as intestines and stomach came cascading out of the body cavity.

The air around the butchering table was filled with the acrid smoke of the wood fire along with the stench of pig feces - of which a little bit goes a long, very long ways.  The ground around the table was also challenging - dotted with patches of mud, pig feces, and small puddles of blood.  I definitely had to be careful where I stepped and even more so - where I knelt to get the perspectives that I wanted of the butchering process.

The men worked quickly, efficiently and relatively quietly.  It was obvious to me that this was not their first pig butchering.  I don't believe that it was the first pig butchering for Duang's young second cousins even at their tender ages of 6 and 7.  They watched and wandered around the area with about as much emotional attachment as watching people building a house. Children are exposed to death at an early age and accept it as a part of life.

The butchering of the pig did not proceed as I once had expected it to.  When I first came to Isaan, I thought that the carcass would be rigged from an overhanging tree limb, hoisted head down, and the first cut would carefully made from the anus to the chest to allow the abdominal bag, containing the internal organs, to spill out and be removed.  Thailand not like America - once again.

 

Awful offal? Not to the Lao Loum!

Here in Isaan the pig was placed on its legs in a prone position.  After the body cavity had all the organs removed, the carcass was rolled over to expose the back.  A strip of hide and underlying fat were cut from each side of the spine exposing the loins.  The loins were removed and taken toand placed in a large plastic tub along with all the other parts to be further processed up in the farmhouse kitchen.

 

 

   

Work continued step by step to remove the outer cuts of meat from the pig. The intestines were processed a short distance away where two men were occupied cleaning them out for either cooking "as is" or for use as sausage casings.  Very little. if any at all, of the pig was wasted.  I am often impressed at the ability of the local peoples to make do with their limited resources, be it weaving their own fishing nets, fish traps, cultivating rice, weaving their cloth, and so many other activities that demonstrate their independence as well as self reliance.  Raising pigs for sale and consumption is another one of those activities.

Like so many of other people from my old world, I was not knowledgeable, experienced or even cognizant of the activities that created so much of what I took for granted in my life.  Here in Isaan, in Allen's World, so much more is up close and personal sights, sounds, and especially smells.

It is here in Isaan, that I saw the answer to the question of "Where do pork chops come from?"

A plastic tub of pork

As two young men pulled the two wheel cart upon which a large plastic tub of  pig parts up the gentle slope to the farmhouse, I gathered up my camera along with my lighting gear to return to my old seat with Grandson Pope.  Upon my arrival, Pope greeted me and in our way of communicating letting me know that he wanted to see my photos.  I knew which photographs I did not want him to see.  When I showed him the photograph above with all the pig parts in the plastic tub, he looked at me and said "Moo? Moo?"  No; he wasn't referring to a cow but he was actually asking me in Lao -"Pig? Pig?"

Even at two years old, Pope, had a pretty good idea where the pork in his meals comes from.  I suspect he is also well on his way to understanding anatomy.

Fishing the big muddy - Ditch

Trench cut into Nong Hon Kumphawapi

In this region of Thailand there are several stories about two mythological characters: Nang Ai and Pha Daeng.  The plots vary but they all agree in that Nang Ai was a very beautiful woman and Pha Daeng was a handsome stranger from far away, the ruler of a land called Phaphong.

In one story of Nang Ai and Pha Daeng, Nang Ai's beauty and fame catches the attention of Phangki, son of the Naga King, Phaya Nak.  Phangki shape shifts himself into a very handsome man to court Nang Ai.  Phangki is not successful in his efforts to win over Nang Ai from Pha Daeng.  Frustrated he once again shape shifts but this time into a white squirrel to better track and keep an eye on Nang Ai with the intent of finding an opportunity to kidnap her.

When Nang Ai and Pha Daeng see the white squirrel, they order a royal hunter to trap it.  The squirrel, son of the King of the Nagas, ends up dying.  The meat is fed to the people of the town.  It miraculously keeps increasing until 8,000 cartloads of meat is fed to the people of the city and surrounding villages.  (Hmmm - reminds me of another story that I know but it is with fish instead of squirrel meat.).  Phaya Nak, King of the Nagas, vows to kill everyone who has eaten his son's flesh.

After eating, a very large thunderstorm suddenly hit the city.  Since that did not typically happen, Pha Daeng tried to escape quickly with Nang Ai on his horse, Bak Sam, from the rising flood.  All of Isaan is turned into a swamp. The escape was not successful.  Nang Ai is swept off the horse by the tail of a naga.  The spirit of the white squirrel had become King of the Nagas and had taken Nang Ai into his underwater kingdom.

Pha Daeng is devastated by the loss of his true love, Nang Ai, and soon dies.  His spirit recruits and organizes an army of spirits from the air to wage a long war against the Naga  Kingdom.  The war eventually ends in a stalemate, both sides too tired to continue.

It is said that the Nong Hon Kumphawapi Lake is a remnant from the flood and the trench that can be seen today in Tambon Pho Chai was created by Bak Sam's erection as he ran to escape the flood.

Ban Thasang (Thasang Village) is located on the edge of the floodplain of the Lam Pao River that crosses Nong Hon Kumphawapi (Kumphawapi Swamp) flows into Nong Hon Kumphawapi Lake.

Duang's sister's farm is bordered by a trench cut into Nong Hon Kumphawapi, however this trench was not gouged out of the floodplain by Bak Sam's erect penis.  The wide trench is actually man-made, ecavated a few years ago my backhoes and excavators.  The trench was made to store water later into the dry season and to concentrate fish for fishing at the end of the monsoon season.

Isaan Fisherman

Last Sunday, just after I stopped photographing the village furniture maker, a pickup truck carrying 6 men crossed my sister-in-law's property and parked alongside the trench bordering the farm. I followed their truck along the top of the dike along the trench to where they parked.

The men got out, undressed, and put on their fishing clothes - old clothing that could be immersed in muddy water for hours.  Once dressed for fishing, the men gathered up their fishing gear; a roll of netting about one meter tall and roughly 10 meters long, fine mesh throwing fish nets weighed along their perimeters, floating creels - hand woven reed or bamboo baskets with recycled soda bottles or scraps of Styrofoam attached to their sides to enable them to float, and a plastic wash tub.

Fish net hoists and platforms along the trench

The men did not speak English but understood that I was going to take photographs of them - much to their amusement.  I followed along, behind them along the top of the earthen berm past several bamboo fishing net hoists and platforms built along the berm. In several locations, weirs constructed of nylon netting and sticks driven by hand into the muddy bottom reached from the shoreline into the receding waters of the ditch.

We walked along the main trench until we came to first branch trench and walked a very short distance along it. At the "proper location", the men walked down the berm and entered the shallow opaque still muddy water of the trench.  The proper location had easy access to the water but more importantly it was near an existing fishing net installed across the ditch marking the end of someone else's fishing zone.

The fisherman worked together to place their unrolled fish net across the ditch.  When they needed longer or more sticks to fasten their net, they climbed the far side bank of the ditch and cut brush to meet their needs.

With a section of the ditch cordoned off between the existing net and their newly placed net, the men proceed to fish the area with five men throwing their hand nets at one end of the containment area working their way down to the other en where one man threw his hand net.  Their technique was to cover the ditch in a systematic process driving any escaping fish down towards the man at the other end in an ever decreasing area for the fish.

Casting net upon the waters

Prior to starting their fishing operations, the men offered me to join them.  I told them that I was afraid and pantomimed the motion of an inchworm (leech) crawling on me and attaching itself to my leg.  The men understood and as they were laughing, one of the men told me that leeches were "ping".  I then told the men that I was afraid that ping would eat me. They all had a hardy laugh and one of them told me not to be afraid that there were no leeches.  Yeah right ... and "the check is in the mail" and we have all heard that similar saying "I won't ___ in your mouth "  I asked the man "Really, no leeches?"  We all enjoyed another hardy laugh ... together as they all went into the water as I remained on the berm - high and dry.

The men threw their hand nets so as to cover the water from shore to shore in an overlapping pattern created by several throws.  There was no bait or any inducements to attract the fish.  It was all based upon luck and trying to ensure that any fish had no where to swim off to.  The net was thrown and allowed to sink to the bottom - about one meter below the surface.  Once the net had settled to the bottom, the fisherman retrieved it by pulling on a small diameter rope attached to it. 

When the net was retrieved, he inspected it to see what if anything he had caught.  These were not sports-fisherman.  They were not going after game fish or any record catches.  They were fishing for food for themselves and their families that evening.

In over 7 years here, the largest fish that I have seen caught either with these hand nets or the large rectangular nets suspended from bamboo hoists, was no more than 1/2 pound (225 grams).  The overwhelming majority of the fish caught would not even have been used for bait fishing back in the USA.  The fish are small, often tiny, minnows.  However, they are protein and no doubt a welcomed flavor to compliment a meal of rice.  The fish are also free.

When a fish was captured the fisherman would remove it from the net and place it in the creel floating next to him in order to keep it alive and fresh.  More often then not, there were no fish. More frequently than not, the net would dredge up snails, sometimes two or even three.  When that occured the fisherman would gather them up and place them in the plastic tub placed on the shore at water's edge.  The snails are about the size of a small tangerine and are a stable in the Isaan diet.  However they are also dangerous.

Liver cancer is the No. 7 cause of death in Thailand.  There are 23,000 new cases of liver cancer a year in Thailand. Udon Thani is the the epicenter of liver cancer in Thailand.

Liver cancer in this area is due to a parasitic infection, Opisthorchiasis - liver flukes.  Due to cultural dietary practice and preference people are part of the liver fluke's life cycle.  Here people are accustomed to and like to eat two dishes that involve raw fish - "koi pla" - finely chopped raw fish mixed with chilies, herbs, lime juice and live red ants: "pla ra" - the ubiquitous Lao condiment - fermented (six months or longer) raw fish sauce - Lao people's answer to our ketchup.

People can become infected with liver flukes by consuming the larvae attached to raw fish flesh.  Inside of the human liver the larvae mature, become flukes, and reproduce creating eggs.  People pass the eggs into the waterways through rural sanitation practices.  Back into the waterways, the eggs are eaten by the snails which are then eaten by fish where the larvae develop and the cycle begins once again.  Tradition has been to use  raw fish for koi pla and to use raw fish to make the fish sauce.  Cooking and pasteurizing destroys the larvae and prevents the development of cancer over the years of consuming koi pla and pla ra.  There are education programs in schools and hospitals to educate people to not eat raw fish but as they say ... old habits are hard to break.  Duang's father and her ex-husband both died of liver cancer - no doubt as a result of their eating raw fish.

After observing and photographing the fishermen for about an hour, I thanked the men and said goodbye to return to our home 65 Km to the north.  To be honest, I looked but did not see any leeches on them but I did not do a full body scan or close up inspection.  I still believe that there are leeches in those murky still waters. I will still not enter any water that looks like this. But I will gladly return to take more photos of others in those waters.

The Village Furniture Maker

Furniture Maker Surfacing Recycled Wood

We got a call from the family on Saturday informing us of some big doings going on Sunday out at Duang's sister's farm outside of Thasang Village.  Duang's mother and some of the women from the village were going to commence harvesting the rice crop and her sister's brother-in-law was going to be making furniture.  They had called to let us know so that I could go out and photograph the activities.

Unfortunately Duang was occupied making pahn sii khwan centerpieces for a Monk that we know.  Since she was getting paid to make it for delivery on Monday, she could not go out to the village.  However that would not stop me ...

I arrived out at the farm around 8:45AM.  The four elderly women were already out in the paddy stooped over with sickles in had cutting the rice.  Although there was still a heavy dew upon the thick vegetation on top of the berms that serve the dual purpose of dividing the land up into paddies and function as walkways to access the paddies, the harvesting was underway.  The bright sun and 31C (91F) temperature would quickly and soon dry out the crop.

As is typical of all rice harvesters here in Isaan, the women were covered up from head to toe.  Large straw hats protected their head and face from the strong Sun.  Either a strip of homespun cotton cloth, called a "pakama" or a cotton tee shirt worn as a pseudo balaclava shielded their face and offered some filtering from dust and detritus from the harvesting.
 
After an hour, the women were still going strong cutting and laying the rice in neat flat rows to dry but the heat had gotten to me.  I carefully made my way back to the house along the tops of the berms covered with long vegetation - straining my eyes to stay on top of the berm and to avoid breaking an ankle or leg in the periodic drainage slits cut into the berms hidden by the vegetation.

Once at the house, I sat at an outside picnic bench on a covered porch to cool off and to set up my camera gear to photograph the furniture maker.

The Furniture Shop

Across from the house was a rough structure - part carport, part elevated rice storage shed and a lean to work space used for making furniture.

The furniture shop was open sided with a corrugated metal roof.  Beneath mounds of sawdust was a compacted earth floor.  Electrical power for the wood working equipment was supplied by two long extension cords connected to a box mounted on a nearby column.  Fortunately I was using battery powered speedlights so I was not going to add to the electrical load and tangle of wires  about the work space.

I was struck by several things not to mention almost tripping over many things.  I was first struck by the lack of "professional" equipment. I have been in woodworking shops and I am familiar with the various specialized pieces of  equipment associated, if not "required" for making furniture.  There were no pieces of heavy shinny pieces of equipment.  The work benches were heavy but they were made from wood - recycled wood at that.  There was a table saw but it was not a heavy metal table with metal guides and rails.  The table saw at this woodworking shop was another heavy rustic wood table that had a large hand electric saw mounted underneath it with strips of lumber along with industrial grade C-clamps used as guides for cutting.

The furniture maker was busy planing a large and thick slab of recycled teak. To smooth and flatten the surface of the slab, he used an electric hand planer rather than a separate table planer that I had seen in other woodworking shops.  Although he had draped the electric power cord over his shoulder to keep it from interfering with the motion of the device, it was apparent that there had been some previous mishaps.  There were several locations along the length of the cord that were covered with wrappings of electrical tape, frayed electrical tape in many of the locations.

The woodworker worked barefooted and wore shorts.  He did wear glasses but they were more to see his work than to protect his eyes from the sawdust and wood shavings that shot out from the hand planer.  The non-grounded, non weatherproof, non GFI protected interior rated extension cord electrical box lay on the ground.

The woodworker was not completely oblivious to safety concerns.  There came a time when he had to re-position the heavy slab on his work bench in order to better access some portions of it. I saw that he was struggling with it, so I put down my camera and started to grab an end of the slab to help move it.  He motioned to me that it was OK and that he did not need or want me to help.  He then continued and completed moving the slab by himself.  I believe that he did this out concern for safety but I don't honestly know if it was concern for my safety or his safety!

Another thing that struck me was the use of recycled wood to make furniture.  I have seen this practice before in Southeast Asia.  In Lao People's Democratic Republic (Laos), I have seen several houses that had been dismantled and reassembled at a different location.  On a trip here in Isaan earlier this year along the Mekong River, I had seen several companies, sawmills, where old timbers from houses were recycled and converted into doors, windows, and milled wood.

The use of recycled wood is dictated by several factors.  The first obvious factor is economics - recycled wood is cheaper.  Another factor is supply.  Most of the recycled wood is Teak.  Teak harvesting and timber production is greatly restricted now in Southeast Asia.  The last factor is quality.  Recycled wood is dry wood and aged.  I have yet to see a kiln for drying new wood or new timber being aged.  I have seen plenty of cracked wood due to improper drying and aging.

These were the things that struck me visiting the woodworker.  As for the many things that I almost tripped over - the work place was definitely cluttered and disorganized.  Several times I stumbled and almost tripped on mounds of sawdust, scrap pieces of wood, semi-finished pieces of wood, electrical cords strewn about the ground, or bumped my head on low beams, and all types of things hanging down from the roof - a great experience that I survived unharmed.

After a short time, the furniture maker was interrupted by an elderly man.  The elderly man had come up to the house to get a drink of water and get the furniture maker to go with him down towards the water bordering the farm where a small structure was being built.  The elderly man needed help to commence attaching the recycled wood beams to the concrete piles driven into the ground.

That was the end, the end of that day. for photographing the village woodworker.  However I did get to photograph some of his finished work inside of the house.  My photography for the day was also not completed for the day - a truckload of men drove across the property towards the water and stopped a very short distance away.  It was very apparent that they were going fishing.  I followed them to the old fishing hole, actually "fishing ditch" and took several photos- but that is for a blog another day.

Home  made table and chairs

Inside of my sister-in-law's house, I photographed a table and chair set that the wood worker had made.  Like furniture in Vietnam, the furniture was heavy, very heavy.  There is no need to worry about some drunk getting angry and throwing the furniture around!  The furniture was well made and reminded me of the "craftsman" style of the 1930's in America.

In an adjoining room, I photographed a chair that reflected an even greater level of skill.

I am definitely motivated to witness and document more of the village woodworker's work.  Sunday's experience was just an appetizer to whet my appetite to experience and share unique aspects of Allen's World.

Many times here in Isaan I have marveled at the self-reliance and adaptability of the people.  Watching the village woodworker was another one of those opportunities for me to appreciate that there are more than one way to live or to get things done.

Duang often reminds me "Thailand not like Amireeka".  I have also learned that "Lao is not like America" and "Cambodia is not like America"  These are not judgemental statements or evaluative comparisons.  They are observations of the fact - the fact that people do not live alike or do things all the same way.

I admire the resourcefulness of the people.  Observing and experiencing their lives has reinforced for me the need and value of "fit for purpose" as well as "making do with what is available"

There are many ways to live, just like making furniture, and not all the ways are the same or one is not necessarily superior to another.  The key is that one's needs are met by using what is available.

Just as I have learned that the most modern and opulent facilities are not necessary to receive adequate health care, I now realize that excellent functional furniture can be created without expensive modern equipment.

I hae asked Duang to let me know when the village furniture maker will be working 1/2 or one full day at his craft - my camera is always packed and ready with my batteries charged.

What Becomes of Cremains In Isaan

In a person's life there are many questions, some that will never be answered.  They say that there is no such thing as a stupid or even a silly question.  However, some questions have more importance and significance than others.

Fifty-one years ago, in 1965, Jimmy Ruffin, in his hit song "What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted?" wondered about what happened to people who experience a common condition for people of all ages, backgrounds, economic status, and cultures.  I don't know if he ever got an answer or if there is even an answer to what becomes of the broken hearted.  I do know that from the lyrics of the song, he had the proper attitude and an adequate coping mechanism - "I know I've got to find some piece of mind, I'll be searching everywhere, Just to find someone to care"

Here in Isaan, I have attended 18 funeral rituals.  Up until the last funeral ritual, September 10th, my personal experience ceased with the smoke rising from the cremation furnace with all attendees departing the Wat for the family home for some more drinking and eating. It has often crossed my mind as to "What happens to the cremains of the beloved departed?"

Bone Washing Ritual

My next involvement or experience with the departed or more specifically the remains of the departed, was at Songkran when the family would gather together to wash the bones of the dead.  During the bone washing ritual, small bone fragments that are stored in a small container called a ghoat are rinsed with water in a special ritual.

The amount of bones retained by the family is a small amount and does not contain ashes from the cremation of the body.  I knew that the cremation process had to produce more bone fragments than were stored in the ghoats and definitely a significant amount of ash.  I asked Duang about it and she had told me that the other bone fragments and ash were buried on the Wat grounds.

It was not until two weeks ago, that I got to experience as Paul Harvey used to say "the rest of the story"

With the exception of Monks, the bodies of people are typically cremated around 2 or 3 PM.  The next morning starting at 7:00AM the cremains are retrieved by the Monks often with involvement by family members.

Following Duang's advise, I got up at 3:30 AM and arrived at the Wat inside of Thasang Village around 5:00 AM - before the Monks had woken up.  I arrived so early that even the Wat dogs had not woken up yet!  It was pitch black outside so I had to very cautiously walk across the mud from my truck to the concrete landing of the stairs leading up to the bot (ordination hall).  After awhile the Wat dogs woke and sensed my presence.  They were not pleased at all and aggressively let me know as well as the nearby villagers.  Wat dogs do not have a reputation as  bad as their cousins - junkyard dogs but they can be intimidating.  I hurriedly opened the metal gate across the stairway, quickly shut the gate behind me and ascended the stairs to the bot.  From my safe perch on the porch of the bot, I looked down upon the gang of Wat dogs and gave them the evil eye as the sky lightened up in the east with the rising sun obscured by heavy threatening cloud cover.

Around 6:00 AM the Monks arose and upon reassuring the Wat dogs that all was alright in this world, peace and calm returned to the Wat.  I vacated my sanctuary in the bot and joined the Monks at ground level around the crematorium.  I learned that the ritual would commence at 7:00 AM.

Duang arrived with a car full of people - the Monk and her friends from the Wat near our home.  She was shortly joined by her son, daughter and their families as well as family members and friends.

The ritual started with the Abbot of the Wat opening the doors of the furnace and checking things out.  Everything was apparently in good order, so he instructed Duang's son to proceed.  Duang's son used a long metal handled hoe to push the ash and remains through the grating of the heavy metal cremation bed down through the furnace to a couple sheets of recycled corrugated metal at the base of the furnace.

With the help of his sister's boyfriend, Duang's son pulled the cremation carriage out from the interior of the furnace.  With stiff handcrafted brooms and under the supervision of the Abbbott, they brushed ash and dust from the carriage onto the floor of the furnace and then down the natural draft duct to the corrugated metal below.  Ash and dust wafted into the air forcing the young men to occasionally back off to catch their breadths and clear their throats.

Luang Tong Points Out Some Missed Ash

With the carriage and topside of the furnace acceptably clean, the young men and Monks descended the stairs of the furnace, walked around to the base at the backside of the furnace.

Duang's son pulled the sheets of corrugated metal covered with his father's remains from underneath the furnace through the natural draft opening at the back of the furnace.

Using some large freshly fashioned chopsticks cut from some nearby bamboo, the Monks sifted through the ash and still glowing embers of the funeral pyre to recover bone fragments.  Once the Monks had selected and set aside the largest fragments, family and friends took up positions around the corrugated metal to complete the search for bone fragments.

Family Recovering Bone Fragments From Cremains

The recovered bone fragments were placed off to the side on top of a recycled piece of the fine plastic mesh that is placed upon the ground to recover rice kernels during the threshing process.  There were not that many bone fragments and they were all rather small - under 5 to 6 inches long.  Readily identifiable fragments were vertebrae, ulna, radius, ribs, a very small skull patch and a ball joint from a knee, elbow, or ankle.  The collected bones and mesh were formed into a ball and dipped 5 times into a plastic bucket of water.  The five dips signify the moral code of five precepts that Buddhist laypeople take:

     Refrain from harming living things
     Refrain from taking what is not given
     Refrain from sexual misconduct
     Refrain from lying and gossip
     Refrain from taking intoxicating substances

After the bones had been washed they were carefully and reverently placed inside of an ordinary plain clay pot and covered with a white muslin cloth secured with a sacred string (sai sin) wrapped three times around the neck of the pot - three times being symbolic of the three gems of Buddhism - "Buddha", "the Teachings of Buddha", and the Buddhist Religious Community (Sanga).

The pot of bones were then taken and presented to the Monks who were seated in a single line on sahts placed upon the ground off to the side of the assembled family. The bones were presented by an uncle who besides having been a Monk earlier in his life also received additional special training making him a "tapakhao"  Started with the Abbott of the Wat, and then the visiting Monk, Luang Tong, each of the Monks poured water into the pot containing the bones. The act of pouring water in this case was not to cleanse the bones before them.  The act of pouring the water was the act of transference of merit to the departed spirit.

After the last Monk had poured water on the bones, a Brahman performed an offering ritual to the Monks.

The clay pot containing the bone fragments as well as water from the Monks was brought to the area where the family was seated on sahts placed on the ground.  The water was decanted from the clay pot into another container.  A woman selected specific fragments from the pot for placement in a ghoat next to the pot and eventual interment in a tat on the Wat grounds.



Selecting Fragments To Be Stored in the Ghoat

 At this point, the family placed many small yellow candles amongst the ashes and embers remaining on the recycled corrugated metal sheets.  The offering plate from the just concluded ritual with the Monks was also placed on the metal sheets.

Duang's son and some other male family members went off to the edge of the Wat grounds behind the furnace and dug a small hole in the area where deceased people's last possessions are burned as part of the cremation ritual.  The clay pot with bone fragments was placed into the hole followed by the ashes and embers from the metal sheets.  The contents of the offering plate were then placed into the hole followed by the pouring of drinking water from a plastic bottle.  The hole was then filled with dirt.  The ritual was over.

A mystery of the Universe had not been solved but for me, my question of what becomes of cremains here in Isaan had been answered.  As for Jimmy Ruffin's question of what becomes of the broken hearted ... I have been there and done that.  The answer is their life moves on, their life changes, and if they are fortunate, they do find someone who cares along with peace of mind.