E: In the morning, Carrie, the Tanjas, and I hired a taxi (read: pick-up truck) to take us to the temple on the top of Doi Suthep, a small mountain outside of Chiang Mai. Haggling for a fair price was an interesting and frustrating experience, in large part because none of us is confident we got a fair price.
The road up the mountain rivals any Washington state road for windiness. I was pretty queasy when we reached the top; I am prone to car-sickness anyway, and being stuck in the back of a pick-up with a canopy and windows that were really low meant that I wasn't able to look out the window to help keep my stomach settled. Once we stumbled out of the truck, we headed up to the entrance.
On either side of the stairs that lead to the entrance to every Thai temple are two naga (dragons--see the blog posting with the monk chat). The naga are always facing away from the temple with teeth bared, and their snake-like bodies run the length of the stairs. The stairwell up to the temple was huge, with several hundred steps and enormous naga at the base. We saw a couple of hill-tribe children playing at the base of the steps under the naga, which was a great visual metaphor that we aren't in Kansas anymore. I'll post pictures when I can.
Once you get up to the temple, there are several rituals that people do, including walking around the main stupa (a large structure containing a Buddha relic) while holding flowers and praying, ringing various bells that surround the stupa, and lighting candles and incense in various locations around the complex.
Most temples have statues for the birthday Buddhas (there is a certain Buddah image for Monday, another for Tuesday, two for Wednesday, etc.). These days tell of your character, much like the Zodiac.
Carrie: In the US there is a children's poem with that same kind of effect.
Monday's child is full of grace. Tuesday's child is fair of face.
Wednesday's child is full of woe. Thursday's child has far to go.
Friday's child works hard for a living. Saturday's child keeps on
giving. Sunday's child... My mother will have to help me out. Something
to the effect that Sunday's child is most blessed of all.
Eric: One thing unique to this temple was a large bin of candle oil and raised candle platforms in front of each Buddha, and people pour three scoopfuls of oil in front of their birthday Buddha. Oh, and in front of everything that looks even moderately interesting, there is a donation box. As far as we can tell, all of the rituals and donations are for some purmutation of good luck and longevity.
Carrie: In Thai culture the weekday you were born is very important, and reveals something about your character. I'm a Monday, which is the standing Buddah with one up raised hand, like in a blessing. The story is that Buddah came to some village where sickness and evil spirits had taken over and the religious folk had done everything they usually try to no avail, but Buddah walked the streets and cured everything, sending the spirits away. So Monday is the curing of evil Buddah.
Eric had thought himself a Friday's child and was pretty pleased to find that that was the teaching Buddah -until a woman with a year date book looked him up to be a Monday as well!
Eric: Also while there, I received a blessing from a monk for, I believe, good luck and longevity. People kneel around a monk who is constantly chanting and sprinking people with water. The men (because monks can't have physical contact with women) reach out their hands, which the monk takes and wraps a white string around it three times and ties it. He tosses the length of string to women.
Carrie: On the path outside the temple vendors were selling all sorts of fruit. Tanja 15 got farang, which is unripe guava that is sweet and so crisp it's nearly hard. Tanja 16 got a young jack fruit, almost berry flavored, but veggie firm. (Old jack fruit, which we haven't tried, is eaten like a vegetable.) We tried the roasted bananas and everyone traded so we could taste each other's.
Before we left I wanted to get a bell from the market. I was set on getting one with a Naga, but all of them had elephants. All the sellers were trying to bring me to their stands in search of the Dragon. I caused quite a chaos, but unfortunately, no bell for me.
E: We later went to a park and waterfall, but wasn't the one we had wanted to go to because of the language barrier. Oh well. On the way up to the falls, we passed stalls selling bugs of all sorts, which I'd always said I'd try. Well, I was feeling a bit queasy from the rickety ride down the mountain, and I passed. I feel like I wussed out.
Carrie: The original plan was to go swimming in the falls, which is a common activity. But the water looked so scuzzy, so we passed on the swimming. Eric still got to show off his mad mountain goat skills leaping across one stretch of the water for a great picture. Meanwhile we girls struggled in sandals. (OK, so I struggled in grippy tennis shoes. So much for Monday's grace.)
After the temple and waterfall in the blazing heat, we returned to Chiang Mai and ate at a great place known for their khaow soi noodles, (a northern Thai specialty). I'm quite partial to mango sticky rice, and that was toothsome as well. Sitting at our elbows was a retired New Mexican couple. They said we were just about the first Americans they encountered in their 3-months in Laos, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Thailand. Germans, English, and Aussies, mostly.
I was a bit surprised, but maybe shouldn't have been. The American tourists most often head to the southern beaches to drink and perpetuate our poor reputation in the world. We had a delightful time talking to them, and they suggested we go to Pai, a smaller town. It's a much slower pace of life. (Not to mention cheeper.) It's hard to tell if that will keep Eric content, but it's the rural life that I'm most curious about. Further up and Further in!
One more story, as we were all sitting around sipping tea, Tonya 16 told this great story that happened during the time she worked in the German town at Disney world (Epcot). The Americans would ask her pretty ignorant questions, like "do they have electricity in Germany?" And she'd answer, "no, we built the Porshe in the dark." Ha!
Update on the mosquito count. Now I'm up to 11, all on my legs. Oh, and one more on my wrist. 12. Eric says he's got 10. That's it for tonight.
