The Circle Remains Unbroken - Rice Planting Time

Here in Isaan, we do not have Daylight Savings Time. We are not bothered or burdened with having to adjust our clocks and electronic devices twice a year. Because of Thailand's proximity to the equator, there is no much difference in the amount of daylight over the course of a year. I haven't researched it but it appears to me that on June 21, our longest day, the sun sets around 18:30 (6:30 P.M.) and on 21 December, our shortest day, the sun sets at 17:30 (5:30 P.M.).

Here in Isaan, we have just two seasons - "Hot and Dry" and "Hot and Wet".

Here in Isaan the passage of time, besides being marked by personal milestones such as birth ordination, marriage, and death along with religious celebrations, is marked by the rhythm of the land. There is the time for planting rice, harvesting rice, planting sugar cane, harvesting sugar cane, planting cassava, harvesting cassava, as well as planting peanuts, harvesting peanuts, planting corn and harvesting corn. Working and caring for the land is a year long task that like a wheel carries the people through their life.

Today on our trip out to Tahsang Village to visit family, evidence that the wheel of life and the circle that it tracks was very evident. For the third time since I moved to Isaan, the fields were alive with the sights and sounds of rice being planted. We are two months into our "Hot and Wet" season, and the fields that were parched all that long ago are now flooded. The same fields that were dull brown are now verdant rectangles creating a motley mosaic across Isaan.

Last month some of the rice paddies had been sowed with some of the rice obtained in previous harvests. The rice sprouted to create thick brilliant carpets dotting the landscape. Now it was time for the next stage of rice cultivation. The thick carpet of bright green "grass" is harvested, more accurately - pulled up by roots, placed into sheaves, the tops trimmed, and the seedlings are then transplanted in groups of three or four plants into prepared paddies.

The roots of the seedlings are key to the success of the transplant so care is taken to remove any excess mud from them. The sheaves are then placed back into the water so as to maintain their viability. The seedlings are transplanted within 24 hours so as to prevent them from drying out.

The actual process of planting rice at this time of year is actually a series of ongoing parallel tasks - all in close proximity to each other. The seedlings are pulled from the muddy paddy and gathered into a bunch. The bunch of seedlings or sprouts are slapped against the harvester's bare foot to remove excess mud. The bunch of seedlings is then tapped against the bottom of an overturned plastic tub to square off the roots. Once the bottom of the bunch is squared off the bunch is converted into a sheaf by binding the sprouts together using a couple of the plants as a string. After the pointed tops of the seedlings are cut off with a heavy machete type knife, the sheaves are stored roots down in the flooded paddy. One of the farmers periodically gathers the sheaves, and carries them, often using a long bamboo rod across his shoulder., to a near by paddy that has been prepared for transplantation of the seedlings.

The sheaves are then distributed throughout the flooded paddy roots down awaiting planting into the soupy mud of the paddy. Several workers, male and female, grab the sheaves and break them apart. The worker then selects the seedlings, three or four at a time, bends over and thrusts the seedling's roots into the viscous mud of the paddy. The farmers work in sort of rhythm under the overcast and heavy Isaan sky to place the rice plants in a grid across the paddy. Their efforts are only interrupted at times by their amusement towards a falang (foreigner) spending so much time photographing them.

The workers are a combination of the land owner's or lessee's family and day labor. The hired help make about $3 to $4.50 a day for an 8 hour day. Part of their compensation includes being fed by the land owner or lessee. Payment is made on a strictly cash basis. There is no immigration status checking required. There is no employer portion of Social Security - Old Age Taxes to be paid. There is no employee portion of Social Security - Old Age Taxes to be withheld by the employer. There is no employer portion of Social Security - Medicare Taxes to be paid. There is no employee portion of Social security - Medicare Taxes to be withheld. There are no Federal Income taxes to be withheld. There are no State or Local Income taxes to be withheld. There are no Unions. There are no written contracts. There is only the trust and bond of the employer's and employee's words. It is the free market distilled to its basic components - demand and supply.


In a paddy next to the paddy where the seedlings are being transplanted, a farmer uses a machine to prepare a flooded paddy. The mechanical buffalo ploughs the soil and smooths the ground to create the viscous mud required for transplanting the rice seedlings. In a third paddy a portable pump is set up to be driven by the power drive off of the mechanical buffalo to transfer water in order to flood the paddy.

After photographing two different groups of farmers planting rice, I returned to Tahsang Village to visit our grandson, Peelawat, and to have my lunch.

A Gathering of the Clans - Isaan Style

Today was another busy day here in Isaan. I spent the day making backup DVDs for many of my recent photographs - original files as well as edited files. All in all I made 9 DVDs of data files of course that does not include the 4 DVD disks that were found to be defective after I had spent 30 minutes each burning the files to each one of them. I had plenty of time for this task because I was alone for the day.

My wife, Duang, and my stepson had gone off to what I will refer to as a "gathering of the clans" Pugh and Puii, his girl friend have been going out with each other for the past 18 months. Now that she has graduated from university and he has a job, they have decided to get married. This was not a spur of the moment decision on their part and we have been expecting it for some time now.

However getting married here in Isaan is no simple matter. Although my stepson is 29 years old and Puii is 21 years old, getting married is not the simple matter of them coming to agreement amongst the two of them. As with everything else here in Isaan, the Lao Loum culture requires family involvement in such great matters and decisions.

A very big part of getting married is the negotiation and settling upon the "Sin Sod" and "Tong Mun". I had written about these in a previous blog regarding the marriage of one of Duang's female relatives ( http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2010/04/tahsang-village-wedding.html )

Puii's mother had some preliminary talk regarding a possible marriage. Duang was saying that Puii's mother, at that time, was talking about a Sin Sod of 800,000 baht ($24,242) and a Tong Mun of 5 baht of gold ($2,900). This is extraordinary, if not unrealistic, for a young man who makes 6,000 baht ($182) a month as a mechanic at a local Mitsubishi dealership.

It was agreed that today, Sunday 27 June, would be the day that the actual amount of the Sin Sod and Tong Mun would be negotiated. I had originally indicated that I thought that it would be best if I did not attend the negotiation. It is always best for a falang (foreigner) to not be involved in any dealings related to money here in Isaan. Foreigners are viewed as being "rich" and able to afford to pay more than Thai people. With a Thai man making $182 a month working 6 days a week at a car dealership and farm labor making almost $5 a day, I am not going to rage against that commonly held perception. However I had told Duang that I did not and will not pay for my sons to get married so I would not be "paying" for my stepson to get married. Despite my reservations, she said that she wanted me to go with her as well as the rest of the "family" to negotiate.

Three days ago, Puii called and said that she thought that it would be better if I did not go. She felt that my presence would complicate the negotiations. It was not a problem for me and Duang did not really need me for morale support. Twenty-one family members were going with her to Puii's home.

Yesterday Duang reviewed with me her position on the upcoming negotiations. She identified her bottom line numbers and said that if Puii's mother wanted more than that, she was going to tell her son to go home. It would then be up to her son and Puii to decide to continue their relationship together outside of the best wishes as well as spiritual support of the families. I asked her if her son would actually leave and return home if she told him to. She said that he would. Somehow I can not imagine an American 29 year old son doing the same. As a negotiation point I suggested that Duang tell Puii's mother that we were going to do this wedding "American" style - where the man pays nothing and the women pays for everything. I also pointed out that if negotiations got stuck, Duang could tell Puii's mother that if she thought that she could find a man with a job, who treated Puii as well, loved Puii as much, and who Puii loved as much and could pay more money, she needed to start looking along the roads now for him. Duang and I had a good laugh but maybe there are other reasons that it is best that I did not go to the negotiations.

Duang and her son left this morning at 8:00 A.M. to go to Tahsang Village to pick up some of the clan going to the negotiations. Two pick up trucks left Tahsang at 9:00 A.M., the most advantageous as well as strategic time according to one of the old aunts who knows about numbers with the 22 family members ranging from Duang's mother to Peelawat (16 months old) and Kwan - 2.5 years old. Duang stopped at the market in Kumphawapi in order to provide the food for the negotiations. Puii's mother was supplying the beer, whiskey, and soft drinks. Based upon my experience here in Isaan, I would say that Duang won that round.

Duang and her clan arrived to find Puii's clan represented by her grandfather and 17 other family members including 4 babies. Puii's family asked where I was and Duang told them that I had stayed at home. She told them that if a falang had gone then the price would increase too much. She added that if there was a wedding I would be at the wedding and they could meet me then. They all had a good laugh - whether it was a jovial laugh or self-conscious laugh I don't know.

After an hour of socializing, the negotiations commenced. Puii's grandfather spoke for the family and wanted a Sin Sod of 550,000 baht and a Tong Mun of 5 baht of gold. Duang countered with an offer of 209,999 baht Sin Sod and 2 baht Tong Mun. The grandfather discussed this counter offer with Puii's mother and Puii. He then asked if she loved Pugh and if Pugh loved her. With two affirmations, the grandfather agreed. Everyone clapped and were happy with the conclusion. After the 30 minutes of negotiations, a down payment of 40,999 baht was presented to Puii's mother with a promise to pay the remainder next year around March. Puii's mother gave a gift of a "gong kao" - a woven bamboo basket for storing cooked sticky rice to each adult member of Duang's clan further binding the families.

With the tension of the negotiations and resolution of everyone' s angst, the food and drink was brought out so that everyone could enjoy themselves. Duang told the people about how in America men do not pay to get married but that women paid to get married. Two old Lao Loum men said that they were going to go to America and get some money for marrying American women. Everyone had a good laugh at their joke.

Duang returned home at 4:00 P.M. tired but satisfied with her efforts for the day.

The clans had gathered and financial considerations had been addressed. There will be a wedding in the new year - another occasion to celebrate here in Isaan.

It Takes A Village to Heal A Child - At Least In Isaan

It has been a few days since my last blog. The lack of blogs has not been due to a lack of subjects but because we have been very busy. Much of our time has been spent at the hospital in Kumphawapi. Our grandson, Peelawat, has been hospitalized for three days.

Peelawat has been been living in Tahsang Village with his mother at his Great-Grandmother's home. In Tahsang Village, he spends a great deal of his time playing with his two and one half year old cousin, Kwan, and three year old neighbor, Tay. Like all other 16 month old children in Isaan, Peelawat's play involves walking around bare foot, playing in the dirt, running after chickens and puppies. All the toddlers carry evidence of their play on their ankles, legs and arms. Nicks, scrapes, and scabs bear testament to the fun that they have been having on these hot and humid days in Isaan.

Monday morning, we received a phone call from Duang's daughter saying that Peelawat was sick. He had a fever and had experienced a couple seizures. Previously when he had fevers, Peelawat had experienced seizures. At first this was extremely concerning to us but after researching I determined that these seizures are somewhat common in young children. Later I found out that Duang as well as her two children had the same experience with fevers when they were young. This made me somewhat more relaxed but I still had concerns about epilepsy or some other serious condition. Duang's daughter had a cousin take them to a clinic in Khumphawapi to see a doctor. Peelawat had a seizure at the clinic. He received treatment and returned to Tahsang Village.

Later that evening we received another, more stressful, call from Duang's daughter saying that Peelawat was running a fever, had additional seizures, and was being hospitalized. Peelawat and his parents had been taken to the hospital in Kumphawapi by one of the uncles in Tahsang Village who had a pickup truck. Most people in Isaan have motorbikes but out in the villages few people have trucks and even fewer have cars. People with vehicles are often called upon to help out in emergencies. With the emergency notification, Duang, her son, and I headed off to Kumphawapi.

We arrived at the hospital and found Peelawat in the Emergency Room. He seemed so small and defenseless laying on the gurney swathed in a blanket with an oxygen mask on. He was very feverish and in that quasi conscious state that a high fever induces. After a while, he was transported to the Pediatric Building of the hospital. Since the NICU is located on the second floor and there is no elevator, I had to carry him up the two flights of stairs to the NICU.

Although the sign above the entrance to the ward said "NICU" (Natal Intensive Care Unit), the room was more of a children's ward than what we expect to find as a Intensive Care Unit in the USA. The room was very similar to other hospital wards here in Isaan. It was a large room divided in two sections by a five foot high block wall. Each section contained 16 beds. A couple of ceiling fans provided ventilation for each of the sections. At the end of the room there was a large area that had several shower stalls and toilet stalls. Just to the left of the entrance to the bathroom area, there were a couple of large steel cabinets with hospital linens. There was a fairly large Nurse's Office, which was air conditioned, at the middle and front of the ward. Approximately 4 nurses were in and out of the office.

Here in Isaan, the Nurses handle taking vital signs, and giving medicine. They do not provide care for the patients such as bathing, dressing, changing bedding, feeding, or assisting in the personal hygiene of the patients. The family and friends of the patient provide patient care. Since there are such large families and such a strong sense of community here, the hospital wards are always filled with people. In addition there are many people congregated outside of the wards - eating, resting, and socializing while they await their turn to give care and comfort to the sick. While this may be reassuring during times of normal sickness, I fear the consequences of this behavior if the fears of a SARS, H1N51, or some other horrible epidemic become reality. Containment will not be possible.

The ward was filled with patients from two weeks old to about 12 years old. Each patient had two to four people attending to them. Surprisingly, many of the adults caring for the little patients were men. Lao Loum men are very involved in the raising of their children. Uncles are also involved in helping to care for their nephews and nieces. Peelawat had his grandfather, grandmother, mother, father, uncle, a couple of great aunts, a great uncle, and two cousins - a couple more attendants than typical that night. The ward was filled with the sounds of babies crying out of fear and from pain.

The young patients were placed in full sized hospital beds. The beds had been modified for young patients by the addition of smooth nylon string in a lattice pattern to reduce the spaces on the pop up rails on the side of the bed. Very young patients sleep with their mother in the hospital bed. Older patients mothers or fathers sleep under the hospital bed or on the balcony outside of the ward - if they get to sleep at all.

Duang and her daughter kept busy wiping Peelawat down with tepid water to break his fever. I occupied myself trying to comfort him. Peelawat was confused about the situation. One thing that he was sure of as well as adamant about - he wanted out of the hospital. He remembered the way into the ward and he was constantly pointing toward the entrance indicating that he wanted OUT and expected me to take him out.

Sadly just about every time that Peelawat calmed down a little bit and started to get some much needed sleep, a Nurse came by to check his temperature, collect blood, or give him a shot. After awhile, the Nurses decided to connect Peelawat to an IV. Just about every other patient on the ward was hooked up to an IV. One of the younger Nurses tried to put a needle into his foot. She tried and tried to no avail. Peelawat very quickly understood what was going to happen when the piece of surgical tubing was wrapped around his arm or leg. After about 5 minutes of stabbing and jabbing Peelawat to connect an IV, I said "Enough. No More, she doesn't know what she is doing. Get someone else to try". Thankfully, whether they understood me or not, another Nurse took over. Three nurses moved Peelawat's bed over to be in better light to assist in finding a vein. In the end it took a third nurse to finally connect the IV.

A Doctor was not available to examine Peelawat or any of the other patients until the next morning. I tried to determine what medicine Peelawat was getting - fighting against the language barrier as well as the cultural barrier. Medicine in Isaan is similar to the type of medicine practiced in the USA 50 years ago and longer ago in the USA - The Doctor is always right, the Doctor has no obligation to explain treatments, the patient is just to take the medicine given to them, and the Doctor is infallible. After some time I learned that Peelawat had been given an antibiotic. This seemed reasonable to me and reassuring. I was also satisfied that blood as well as urine samples had been collected. After four hours we left the hospital and returned home.

The next morning, we were back at the hospital at 8:00 A.M. I noticed that Peelawat's ankle was swollen, very hot, as well as surrounded by a black band. It was obvious that there were several red ant, weaver ant, bite marks on that leg - not an unusual sight on village children in Isaan. I pointed this out to Duang and she told me that some people in Tahsang Village had the same thing only higher on their body and they had died. This was not comforting news. Duang informed me that some of the old people in the village know what to do. She added that they make medicine and blow it onto the affected area. I asked what kind of medicine and she disturbed me once again - "same same Momma chew" Betel nut? I asked her to make sure that the Doctor took a good look at that area. I was suspicious that Peelwat had what is often commonly referred to, in accurately, as "Blood Poisoning". The actual condition is "Bacteremia", bacterial infection of the blood. The Doctor had not arrived at the ward by Noon when I left. The Doctor had been delayed because of so many adult patients in the other building. Duang called the Village to arrange for one of the older villagers to be brought to the hospital to treat Peelawat. When Duang returned home she informed me that the Doctor had not seen Peelawat but he had authorized more antibiotics for Peelawat. She also told me that a man from the village had visited and given Peelawat the first of his three "treatments"

Duang returned to the hospital the next morning to help her daughter to care for Peelawat. Her daughter and son-in-law had spent two mostly sleepless nights at the hospital. The good news was that Peelawat was feeling better. He had been chasing the same stray cat out the ward that I had chased the night before. The hospital has several stray cats that have run of most of the facilities. The cats eat the uneaten food off of the metal trays that are placed at the end of the corridor awaiting pick up at some time. I suspect that the cat's diet is also supplemented by rodents since I have not seen any around.


At 5:30 P.M. I returned to the hospital with Duang's son and his girl friend. As we pulled into the parking lot we saw a very good sight - Peelawat and Duang were sitting outside waiting for us. Peelawat had a shunt installed in his hand but other than that he looked excellent. His fever was gone and he had his energy back. He enjoyed having his photograph taken and had to see each picture on the camera's monitor after it was taken. He eagerly displayed his "Big Smile" more like a soundless lion's roar when asked.


We went back upstairs to the ward and let Peelawat play on the outside balcony. Peelawat still was pointing to the exit and now that he was mobile, he often took off for the stairway to leave the facilities. Peelawat amused himself by playing with the various shoes placed outside the doorway to the ward. Peelawat kept himself busy by trying on the various shoes. He wore mens as well as women's shoes irregardless of their size. He was very adapt at ensuring that he selected matching shoes. Later he started to play with a bed table that was stored on the balcony. He amused himself turning the crank on the table and pulling as well as pushing the table along the corridor. After awhile he indicated to me that he wanted to get on top of the table. Being a somewhat indulgent grandfather and somewhat bored, I placed him on the table. Peelawat lay on his stomach and had such a big smile as I pushed him down the corridor that I decided to share his pleasure with Duang. I wheeled him into the ward and quickly discovered that the nurses were not amused. Duang scolded me and Peelawat and I went back outside. We limited ourselves to the simple pleasure of sitting in a chair and kicking our feet back and forth while learning the English words for parts of our face.



After awhile, Duang's son returned from Tahsang Village with one of the village elders to give Peelawat his second treatment. The man had a small plastic bag with a green leaf, slices of Betel Nut, and some wood chips. He placed the items into a small brass mortar and ground them together with a small brass pestle. He sat next to Peelawat on a concrete bench on the outside balcony. Peelawat was not afraid at all and sat patiently next to the man. The man, a spiritual leader, chewed the ground up concoction and soon had a mouth full of red liquid. He examined Peelawat's infected leg, said some chants, and sprayed the red liquid on the infected portion of his leg three times. Peelawat observed the ritual with interest. The man also placed his hand on Peelawat's head and said some chants before blow air three times on the top of the head. Peelawat then pointed to a scab on his other leg to the shaman and said "Nee" (here). Somehow Peelawat inherently understood what the shaman was doing and he was pointing out to him another one of his injuries for special treatment. We all had a good laugh. Having been informed by Duang that Peelawat had received more intravenous antibotics at 6:00 P.M. and that the Doctor had scraped the skin on his leg while putting some medicine on it, I was not opposed to the traditional treatment.

After the man completed treating Peelawat, Peelawat thanked him by giving him a wai, the Thai gesture of respect which is similar to the Western prayer gesture. We left the hospital at 9:00 P.M. much relieved that Peelwat is well on his way to recovery. Peelawat will be released today from the hospital once the doctor has checked him.

Once again the differences between health care in Isaan and health care in the USA had been made very apparent. Here in Isaan health care is much more of a community effort. Family members as well as friends or neighbors are heavily involved in caring for the sick. The play on the old African proverb ("It takes a village to raise a child") - "It takes a village to cure a child" is not too far from the truth - at least here in Isaan.

My Photographs

Yesterday one of my Facebook friends, a classmate from high school, enquired about what software did I use on my photographs or was what was in the photograph was actually what I saw. This was a very interesting coincidence because I had been contemplating writing about my work and my thoughts regarding photography in general.

I am not a studio photographer. I am not a commercial photographer. I am definitely not a fine art photographer.

I consider myself to be a photojournalist. I strive to capture and create images that tell a story or at least supplement the stories that I wish to share. Most recently, or rather over the past twelve years, these stories are mainly about people and their culture.




Looking back upon my earlier years this aspiration is entirely understandable. As a child, I was a voracious reader - mostly non-fiction. I revelled in reading of far away places and the exploits of actual adventurers. From my home in Groton, Connecticut the books transported me to Africa, South America, the Pacific islands,and the Orient. The wonderful books also transported me back in time to the time of explorers and adventurers. Supplementing the books from the school and local libraries were the family subscriptions to Life and Look magazines. Precious times were the occasions when I could get my hands on a National Geographic magazine usually at the barber shop. One benefits of living in a "Navy" town was the exposure to classmates who were from "far away" places such as Virginia, California, Hawaii, and the Philippines. hearing of their former homes and past travels, only inspired me more to travel and explore for myself.

My professional career provided me with extensive opportunities to travel. Many of these opportunities frequently involved foreign travel. I often used my work location as a jumping off point for travels further abroad. I made it a point to participate in local festivals as well as celebrations. Living abroad presented certain challenges such as adapting to cultures and customs that were different from what I was familiar with. One coping mechanism that I utilized was to "go native". Wherever I found myself I immersed myself into the local culture and sights. Of course these locations were not like America but that is, for me that made it so interesting. The more that I convinced myself and accepted that it was not America, the more interesting and fascinating it became. As I showed more interest and understanding of the local culture, the local people were more and more willing to share their life with me - greatly increasing my experience.


I started to take photographs when I was in the fourth grade, nine years old, using a rather large Kodak Brownie box camera. I saved money each week from my paper route to buy film and to pay for developing the black and white film. I bought My first 35mm camera while in college and used the former fraternity housemother's bathroom to develop film. Now that I am older, much older, my equipment is more sophisticated and embraces the newest technology. I now shoot digital exclusively which is good since professional slide processing is only available to me in Bangkok and they do not handle transactions through the mail.


Although I have the latest technology in terms of camera, lenses, as well as photo editing software, I have not deviated from my original philosophy regarding my photography. I strive to accurately and truthfully document people and their culture. As such I do not stage photographs. I do not direct my subjects to do anything specifically for the purpose of my photography. My desire is to capture the moment accurately as well as truthfully. I also minimize the use of Photoshop Elements to make only minor adjustments to my photographs such as to adjust exposure, white balance, and to crop. I do not add elements to a composition. Adding objects or elements to a photograph violates photojournalist ethics.

Quite often I will let subjects know that they should just go about their business and try to ignore me. I take time first to build some sort of repertoire with the people prior to starting to photograph them. I try to obtain their permission prior to photographing them. One of the best ways to build the repertoire is to just stand around and observe them trying to be as inconspicuous as possible - trying to blend into the background. I then share the first of the photographs with them.

On other occasions, especially in very public venues such as festivals and markets, I utilize what is sometimes referred to as "ambush" techniques. "Ambush" technique involves photographing people from a distance without their knowledge. With this technique photographs of people going about their day to day activities can easily be attained. I accept the responsibility of ensuring that the resulting photographs are not embarrassing to the subjects and truly reflect life.


My goal in photography is to show extraordinary people doing ordinary things. In so doing, I wish to show how different people appear, to provide a glimpse into other cultures, to celebrate the diversity of mankind, and to demonstrate that despite our appearances we are so much alike.

I would be more than pleased to learn that my photographs and blogs helped inspire or motivate others to go out and learn about their world.

Today I live in Isaan and have many opportunities to document the cultures of Southeast Asia through my photography, blog, and books. I believe that it is important for the diversity mankind as well as cultures to truthfully document and celebrate these diversities. We need to respect these differences and to tolerate them.

To the extent that I may be able to raise awareness and sensitivity towards these needs, my efforts will be justified. I am concerned about efforts to abolish or stop rituals and practices that more "civilized" or "advanced" societies judge to be "unjust" or "barbaric". However the subject of "cultural arrogance" is best left to be the subject of another blog at some future date.

New Gallery - Phi Ta Khon Festival

A new gallery has been created for the Phi Ta Khon Festival Lao Loum ghost/spirit masks and costumes at the link below.

http://www.hale-worldphotography.com/Thailand/Isaan/Phi-Ta-Khon-Festival/12601767_ZtrEu#905314353_zo46v

New Photographs Added to Gallery

Thirty five new photographs from the Phi Ta Khon Festival have been added to the gallery "Runny Noses and Dirty Faces - Children" at the link below

http://hale-worldphotography.smugmug.com/Children/Runny-Noses-and-Dirty-Faces/7422101_oLip3#905229013_Nzd83

Phi Ta Khon - Sunday 13 June 2010 - Day 2

Sunday, 13 June, was the second day of the Phi Ta Khon Festival and true to what we had been told earlier by local people it was the biggest day in terms of crowds. After breakfast and checking out of our hotel we drove down the hills into Dansai. Being somewhat a creature of habit (Heck - if you find a great restaurant for dining why search for another one when probability indicates you will find many more inferior restaurants) I parked the truck where we had parked it the previous day - across the street from Jao Por Guan's house.

We had been warned that the Police would be closing the road around 8:00 A.M. so we ensured that we had parked prior to 8:00 A.M.. Upon arrival we noticed a much greater Police presence than the day before as well as many more metal crowd control barriers. We walked to Wat Phon Chai which serves as the main center of festival activities. We climbed the stairway to the higher ground surrounding the Wat and took a seat in the shade. Sunday morning was a great deal sunnier than Saturday and just as hot. It was going to be another 100F day.

We sat and amused ourselves watching the activities around us. The upper area where we were located was overrun by the Canon Camera Club from Bangkok all wearing event tee shirts identifying them as Canon Club members and the Phi Ta Khon Festival. Approximately 120 members had arrived to photograph the day's events. A young boy dressed up as a spirit was set upon by several of the photographers. I took a couple photos of the scene because it appealed to my sense of the absurd - a small peasant boy surrounded by a horde of city people each with more than $5,000 of expensive camera gear around their neck and strapped to their back. Even more amusing at least to me, was the efforts of some of the photographers to stage and pose the young boy to achieve a "unique" photograph.

I looked over to the Dansai Folk Museum and saw at least 50 photographers each carrying a 5 to 6 foot long extended tripod scurrying up the stairs to the museum. They appeared to be another tour group of photographers. Even today, I am unable to figure out how so many people let alone people setting up tripods could manage to get into the small confines of the museum that two days earlier I had the premises totally to myself for photography. I have no idea how a photographer could control the exposure of their shots in a small space with 49 other photographers all using a flash.


Around 10:00 A.M. the procession of Jao Por Guan, Jao Mae Nangtiam, the Saen, the Nang Taeng, and Phi Ta Khon lek arrived and just as on the previous day the procession circled the Wat three times. Today the procession included an offering for the Monks - the ubiquitous banana stalk "Money tree".


Several young school girls attended by their mothers sought the shade outside beneath the overhang of the Wat's roof to dress and apply their make-up. The girls were getting dressed into traditional Thai clothing - what appears to be baggy pants with a bundle of fabric on the waistline at the back. This style of clothing is more reminiscent of times long past than reflective of current fashion. Today girls wear pants, often jeans, or the Lao long skirt called "phaa nung" - a wraparound skirt created from a tube of fabric. As I watched the girls prepare for their upcoming performance, I realized that the baggy trousers were not pants at all. A very long tube of fabric - perhaps two or three times the circumference of a typical "phaa nung" is stretched and folded once the girl has stepped into the tube. The flat folded portion of the fabric tube is then run between the girl's legs from front to back to create the illusion of pants legs. A belt and pieces of string are then utilized to secure the garment in place with a bundle of the excess fabric at the back. The girls applied make-up, often helping each other, to complete their preparations.

The girls performance involved playing a traditional game. On Sunday the games that we observed on Saturday were also being played. These girls played a sort of game of tag. They, all but one, formed a line, with their hands placed on the hips of the girl in front of them and started to chant some sort of song. The girl who was not in the line faced the line and at some point in time of her choosing took off after the last girl of the line. The girls in the line all started to giggle and laugh as they struggled to maintain their formation while running away from the girl. They were thoroughly enjoying themselves. It made for some innocent entertainment. It seemed ironic that they had spent so much time preparing for a simple game. But such efforts are not uncommon in Isaan.

In Isaan there is still a great deal of pride in personal appearance. For religious celebrations, people especially women wear their best clothing. Women, especially younger women, do their best to look attractive. For the vast majority of Lao Lom women, marriage presents the best and often the only opportunity for economic security or social advancement. A great emphasis on personal appearance and social skills enhances a woman's chances to improve her life.



At the lower level of the Wat's grounds, people were busy eating, drinking, and watching stage performances. Just as the previous night, there was a dance competition. Mahlam Lao music was provided by student musicians and added to the festive atmosphere of the morning. This was a true family event with people of all generations enjoying the festival. Many fathers were carrying their younger children around in the bright sun light and rapidly increasing heat of the day.

Dispersed amongst the festival goers were phi (ghosts). The younger ghosts carried wooden swords and kept busy posing for the many people taking photographs. Older ghosts, young men around 17 to 25 years old, were also "ghosts" carrying swords. However their wooden swords were actually a wooden phallus with a bright red "head". These older ghosts took great joy and perhaps even pleasure in teasing and taunting the spectators by waving their swords at them - especially younger women. This provided a great deal of laughter from the crowd. On occasion, the older ghosts would tease an elderly women. Perhaps because they had attended so many of these festivals before or due to life experience, the elderly women showed that they could not be intimidated. Often when confronted with a red tipped phallus, the elderly woman would grab the phallus and either give it a couple of good shakes or give it a couple of twists much to the raucous delight of the spectators. This blatant flaunting was the fertility aspect of the festival - part of the ritual involved in invoking the fertility of the land for the upcoming rice planting season once the rains return to the land.

Besides the stage show, refreshment booths, and ghost antics at the lower level, there was a couple tables where children were doing artwork to be judged later in the day. Pieces of A4 sized paper had a Phi Ta Khon mask and "DANSAI" drawn on it in black ink. I have no idea why Dansai was written in Roman script rather than Thai or even Lao script. Children were cutting or rather punching out very small dots from sticky backed pieces of colored paper to fill in the outlines on the paper. The results were extremely impressive. Some of the completed pieces were mounted, framed and displayed on tripods near the work tables.

At Noon, Duang and I looked at each other and simultaneously asked "Do you want to go now?". It was not that we were bored or that we were not enjoying ourselves. The sun was bright and the temperature had risen to 97F and we still had a 3 hour drive to return to our home. As we exited the Wat's grounds on to the local street, we found ourselves in the midst of a parade. This parade was much more ribald and raucous than the previous processions. There was a large wooden phallus mounted on wheels that was being pulled along the parade route. There were many more "ghosts" taunting the spectators with their phalli. There was a large black bull float made from chicken wire and fabric mounted on wheels that was pulled along by several Phi Ta Khon. It was very apparent that it was a bull and not a cow, steer, or even a heifer. The bull was anatomically correct and obviously fully functional. Further up ahead there was a cow float that was being mounted by another bull float.

A couple of trucks were in the parade. The trucks were are covered in black with several young men riding in and on the vehicles. It is possible that the young men may have just returned from the Gulf Coast of the United States. They were stripped to the waist and completely covered in crude oil. I don't know if they had been cleaning up the sludge or only swimming in the Gulf - no matter the truth - they were covered from head to toe in black heavy oil. I don't know why but they were having one Hell of a time. Everyone was having a great time. We had had our great time and reluctantly knew that it was our time to leave.

On our journey back to Udonthani, Duang talked about returning next year - testimony to the great weekend that we had enjoyed. I too would like to return next year to better understand and participate in the festival - to witness the launching of the rockets, the ridding of spirits by throwing the masks into the river, and attending the sermons on the third day of the festival. Perhaps I, if not we, will even attend the opening ceremonies commencing at 3:00 A.M.!