Spirit of Giving

It’s six o’clock am on the seventh of March and hundreds of people have turned out for Makah Bucha day at the local temple, Wat Gang. Locals come here every year to offer food and make merit. The sleepy temple goers mill about with silver trays in the dusty dawn light as hawkers busily show off plump bags of rice and curry. Smoke creates golden halos above the spires of the temple as chicken grills on glowing braziers. Everything is clean and just so: the bags are perfectly filled, the trays are polished, and everyone is dressed in their best clothes. There is a quiet murmur of conversation in the air, but it is still early, and in the pink dawn light people speak softly. As I step around the crowd and quickly capture a few moments with my camera: an old man carrying a laden silver tray, a father helping his daughter spoon rice into an offering bowl, and two friends praying over few bags of curry before handing them to a somber monk. As I turn to take a picture of an offering bowl, I notice a small, thin dog waiting alone next to a tree. Next to the dog there is a flat tray with an old woman creakily bent over it. As she straightens, I see that she has been filling the tray with rice and vegetables which the dog hungrily begins to eat. Curious, I walk over, make eye contact, and ask her (in Thai) why she is feeding the dog and not placing food in the temple bowls. Surely, giving food to the temple is the point of this holiday. “Because,” she replies, “ Giving food to the hungry is the way to make merit.” She smiles, her face so withered it nearly folds up on itself, and turns back to the dog, heaping its tray with more food. I stand puzzled for a moment, and then turn back to the crowd. The monks receiving the food are all quite plump, their saffron colored robes unable to hide rotund curves and protruding stomachs. As I turn to walk away from the tree, a small boy and his father work their way through the crowd and head towards the dog, food in hand.