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.

Chiang Mai - Night Market

The delay in this post is due to a couple things.  One, it was super involved putting all of the pieces of this puzzle together.  Two, I wanted to tell my parents about my new art before just throwing it out into the world wide web.  Apologies...

Before landing in Chiang Mai (we flew directly from Phuket), we had a few ideas of what we wanted to do: a cooking class, the night market, something with elephants at a rescue, and sak yants.  We hadn't made any set plans or reservations other than our hostel, just ideas of what we wanted to do.  It wasn't until after we arrived in Chiang Mai that we discovered that this is the norm and if you want to enjoy your vacation fully, just go with it, whatever it may be.

We arrived midday on a Saturday, hopped a cheap tuk tuk at the airport and made our way to our hostel, Chada House.

The hostel was run by a fascinating woman.  She is Thai, born and raised in Chiang Mai.  She seems not to be concerned with 'saving face' like most Thais, thus she speaks frankly.  She is kind, honest, helpful, and real.  She was a breath of fresh air.  I shared some pretzels with her one afternoon.  She was less than impressed, she told me as much.  The place itself was basic, the shower sucked, it was in a great location (though everywhere within the Chiang Mai square is within walking distance), and for the less than $20 we spent on our stay there, we really couldn't complain.  We decided, if we had known better, we wouldn't have paid the extra bucks for an AC room because it was unnecessary this time of year.  During our stay though, all of the staff was lovely and helpful.  Northern Thailand truly is the Land of Smiles.  

After dropping our things and putting on an extra layer (it was chilly), we just took a stroll to get the lay of the land.  We found a spot for lunch, The Corner, with a quaint outdoor dining area, perfect for people watching at the corner of a busy, but surprisingly quiet intersection.

The Corner, Chiang Mai

 The food (Thai noodles and a mixed vegetable dish) wasn't great, but the service was, and the location was just right because it was only a short walk from our hostel and gave us access to infinite modes of transportation.  We got in a tuk tuk to head to the train station so we could book our tickets south for the second half of our trip.  You cannot purchase tickets in advance unless you are at a train station.  There is no train station in Phuket, so after all the reading we had done, we thought for sure there would be plenty of time to get sleepers on the overnight train of our choosing.  Wrong.  Turns out, we had to cut our trip a day short and we spent all of Christmas day traveling instead of the 26th.  More on that nightmare later.

The gal at the hostel told us that the Saturday Market starts getting set up and going about 4:00-5:00 in the afternoon and goes well into the night.  The best advice I can give you is to go early.  If you want to go to the market and actually see what's being sold, you better not wait much past 6:00.  The later it gets, the busier it gets and the more aggressive the crowds become.  We wandered over, just outside of the city walls, about 4:30, and yes, many vendors were still setting up, but we missed nothing.

One of the city gates.

In fact, we saw far more than we would have had we not gotten there as early as we did.  I cannot begin to describe all of the things you can buy at the market.  I bought a pair of awesome genie pants (my second pair), a bell (found hanging at wats, generally purchased to honor and bless someone you love), a small figurine for one of the best women I know who collects elephants, a small original painting by a local artist, and a couple postcards.  I had to fight the urge to buy one of the blankets made by the Hmong hill tribes.  Next time..

Credit to http://lannacharmwholesalehomedecor.ecrater.com

Anything you want, you can find, though I never found a wallet I wanted.  Commercialized goods all the way to handmade crafts and traditional Thai trinkets.  Get ready to bargain and don't be afraid to walk away if you're not satisfied with the price.  You'll see whatever it is again in the next 20 feet.  My favorite part of the market was the sidewalk massages.  Shops set up mats with pillows and blankets right out on the streets and go to it.  This was the first massage of several Carey and I indulged in on our trip.  It was also the most unique.  We were positioned on our stomachs next to one another, parallel to the street, as the two Thai women who worked on our backs chattered happily away and crowds passed by curiously.  You can hear the sounds of the market and the people all around you and you're just there, in it, in the elements.  It was strange and unexpectedly soothing.  It cost $1.80 for 30 minutes.  

Food, food, and more food.  Fruit, vegetables, fish, noodles, rice, huge blocks of jiggly black stuff, spring rolls, gyoza, corn, corn, and more corn.  I watched a lady make some kind of meatballs by squeezing a mass of meat mixture through her fist and pinching the blobs off into some kind of hot liquid like she'd been doing it her whole life.  And, perhaps she had.  Some of it looked amazing, the enormous mounds of rice and noodles, the sweets.  Some of it was less than appetizing.  I considered eating a bug just to say I had, but really, why would anyone want to do that?  They had them.. crickets, scorpions, things I can't name.  

The streets in Chiang Mai are all narrow, and where the market is set up, is no exception.  From a stall on the left side, to a stall on the right side, may have been 12 of my little steps across.  Imagine my surprise (and heartbreak) when we began to come across people seated in the street.  This was the worst part for me.  Here, in the tiny streets of Chiang Mai's bustling night market, you find the poor, the blind, the disfigured, the mentally ill, children dressed up and singing with no joy in their voice or happiness in their eyes, a row of four or five men with varying handicaps playing handmade instruments to passersby.  Was it hard to see?  Of course it was.  But the truly hard part for me, is not in their state of being or their physical appearance, but in the lack of resources that I know exist in Thailand to help these people.  I couldn't help but wonder, where do you go at the end of the night?  How do you eat?  Who takes care of you?  How did you get here?  How do you stay warm?  I can still see them when I close my eyes.  I don't think i'll ever be able to forget them.  A crusade more than worth fighting but one that could not be won.  In my heart i'd like to fight it, but cannot foresee winning.  Not in Thailand.  Not yet.