Chiang Mai - Sak Yants

Sunday morning, we were up early because the lady at our hostel had arranged a ride to Doi Saket in search of a monk at a particular wat (temple) who could do sak yants (sacred designs), or traditional thai tattoos, for us.  Sak yants are a centuries old tradition in Thailand and Cambodia, influenced by a mix of spiritual traditions from Hinduism and Buddhism that offers protection and brings love and kindness, good fortune, courage, prosperity, and health to the wearer.  Following the five Buddhist precepts - refraining from killing, stealing, lying, sexual misconduct, and intoxication - keep the tattoo powerful.  I've got most of those in check.  I told my parents before I left for Thailand that I wanted a sacred tattoo and that I hoped to find a monk who would be willing to do it.  Mom wasn't happy about it, "Don't get tattoos." 

Monk's robes drying, a wat dog sunbathing, the beautiful golden spires of Thai wats.

It wasn't easy to find this temple, Wat San Makieng, where Phra Ajarn Thecharangsi lives, in the rural lands of Doi Saket.  Without the help of the woman at our hostel, and her friend Bon, who picked us up and drove tirelessly around the area, stopping to ask for directions, and continuing on, we never would have ever made it.  When we did, I was surprised by the simplicity of the temple.  It was small, beautiful, and blissfully quiet.  When I opened my car door, I wasn't sure if i'd be able to stand, I was so nervous.  We came upon a small circle of monks chatting.  Bon spoke with them and we were asked to come back Wednesday.  "We won't be here," I explained, "we go to Bangkok Wednesday."  After some more conversation with the men, Bon turned to us and said without question in his voice, "Ok, we come back tomorrow at 12:00."  That settles that. 

After Bon dropped us off, we did some more wandering and came across El Diablo Mexican Cantina and had a great lunch.  While we were there, we saw a peaceful protest by the Red Party.  Currently, political parties in Thailand are at a standstill and protests are happening, mostly in Bankok, but also in Chiang Mai and occasionally Phuket.  This is the only one i've seen.

On Monday, we made the drive again.  Bon behind the wheel, made all the turns he had the day before like he'd done it 100 times.  Before leaving the city, we had to gather our offerings: 2 bunches of bananas, 1 raw uncut coconut, 1 sack of rice, red cloth, white cloth, flowers with incense, and 370 baht (each).  Bon drove us to every stall where we could get the best price.  Without him, we never would have gotten through any of this.  

When we arrived, Carey and I entered the temple and knelt down in front of the golden Buddha with our offerings.  Although i'd originally considered valium or some other prescription medication, whilst en route, I opted out.  It didn't seem right trying to "live in the moment" under sedation.  I really wanted to take in the moment.  I sat cross legged, surrounded by all of the statues, and waited with my eyes closed, concentrating on my breathing and finding my center.  I found a strange sense of calm and knew that this was where I was supposed to be, and that doing this was right for more reasons that I had imagined.  We had the luxury of a quiet secluded temple, away from the rush and worries of the western world i've known all my life.  

So much gold to see...

Phra Ajarn's seat and our offerings amongst the Buddha statues in the temple.

Enter, a quiet monk, who has studied this art for an extremely long time, Phra Ajarn.  After he arranged our offerings in alms bowls and set up his equipment (sak yants are performed with bamboo sticks or long metal rods), he explained that it was time to make the offering by kneeling, head down, alms bowl outstretched to Buddha.  He chanted a prayer and began my sak yant.

Yes, the equipment was sterile, the ink new.  Surprisingly, to be honest, it was all very modern.  And, yes, it hurt.  This was, without a doubt the most painful thing I have ever experienced.  And also one of the best.  In all, it took about 40 minutes.  I wasn't zen, I wasn't in a trancelike state.  In fact, I did a lot of deep breathing, much how I imagine a woman in labor would breath.  Ok, maybe not quite like that, but lots of slow, deep breaths.  Some humming and singing (Adele - who else?).  Some stretching of the legs as I sat hunched over, my friend spreading the skin over my right shoulder blade.

Prayers and blessings were said by Phra Ajarn while he created my 'five lines.'  I found myself thinking (between 'fucks, shits, damns') that, "This is so surreal.  I've set out on this journey, i've created a new path for myself, and i'm living it."  That's what it means to me.  Its not just a tattoo I hastily selected and   had slapped on my body.  Not only was it something i'd been researching and wanting since i'd decided to move to Thailand, but it is now a symbol.  It symbolizes my strength, my courage, my independence, my experience.  Sometimes, we have a tendency to forget or overlook the parts of us that we have had to earn over time.  I embody strength, courage, independence, and more, and that's what this tattoo means to me.    

Just three days later on Koh Samui.

Being able to watch the sak yant appearing on Carey's back as she sat through her's was incredible.  They are all done free hand, each design as unique as its wearer, 2-3 pricks per second.  I was surprised by the level of pain afterwards.  It was sore for a day, and required regular applications of scent free lotion for a couple of weeks.  There was no bleeding or scabbing.  

Although I don't feel it physically anymore, I know it is there.  Whether or not it will protect me or bring me all the good things it is supposed to, I don't know.  But I do know I wouldn't trade it for anything - not the experience or the sacred design.  As far as my parents go, they don't love it.  And even though neither of them have ever loved tattoos, it's like dad said, "It's a different stage of life."  He couldn't be more right.