Thai Society/Culture – Page 33 – C. Buddha's Hasty Musings

New Snakeskin Head Drum

On the way to my uni’s sports day a couple weeks ago, we stopped off at a famous temple (from the ancient “kao noi ka mae” story) where they sold various trinkets, sticky rice baskets, and musical instruments at a series of stalls on the dusty temple grounds.
After testing out this drum and hearing how nice it sounded, my coworker and I debated about who should buy it. He said he had too many drums already, so I bought it. The man who sold it to me didn’t say who made the drum, who killed the snake, or if it tasted delicious, and I didn’t ask. Just having a drum with a snakeskin head is cool enough. One thing was kinda gross, though. The first day of pounding on it, scales were flying off everywhere. I looked down once to find my forearm covered in snake scales that were sticking to my sweaty skin. It was djembeistic and cathartic as hell.
Basic Specs

100% Natural Boa Constrictor Head, 9″ (~23 cm)
Glazed pottery body
Expertly tied with 100% natural cotton twine and 100% artificial plastic straps
Deep throbbing bass response

I will cry out loud when this thing eventually breaks, it’s way too cool.

Wan Macha Fish Sanctuary

We visited what’s possibly the greatest tourist attraction in Mahasarakham again (well, besides the new Big C, of course).

Thai to English (and English to Thai) Translation with Google

Note to self:
Thai to English Translation: LINK
English to Thai Translation: LINK

I Saw the Queen of Morlum (and Molam and Mawlum and Morlam)

Her name is Banyen Rakgan, and here I must quote Wikipedia:

“Banyen was the first national mor lam star, whose appearances on television in the 1980s brought the form to an audience beyond its northeastern heartland. She bridges the gap between traditional and modern mor lam, normally appearing in traditional clothing, but using electrified instruments and singing luk thung and dance influenced songs.”

The basic story of how I found myself ten feet away from Banyen performing live is simple: It was serendipitous.
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I work at Rajabhat Mahasarakham University. There are many Rajabhat universities located all over Thailand. A few days ago I went to the Rajabhat in Ubon Ratchathani (where the US Air Force created a base during the Vietnam War) with 450 other teachers from my university for what they call a “sports day,” and insofar as helping my tug-of-war team lose twice and thus tie for third place (the victories needed for such were achieved before I came in at the semifinals), I guess I did play sports. Sports Day this year was actually two days – we arrived on February 4th for the opening ceremony and dinner, and played sports on the 5th with teams fielded by all the other Rajabhats in the Isan (NE) region.
According to a close friend, Banyen has been overseas (mostly in the states) for some years and only recently returned to Thailand. She’s a teacher at the music department at the very university we were visiting, which explains why she was performing at the closing ceremony/dinner. She is now 55 years old and has only become more beautiful with age. Everyone calls her “Ajarn Mae” which are respectively the words for teacher and mother in the Thai language. This encompasses the feelings that most Thais, and especially most Thais from Issan have for her – they grew up on her music and she is a national hero; she is also the most famous molam singer in the world. This much I have studied since the last time I really wrote about molam on this blog. Incidentally, Banyen is also a student of Ajarn Chawiwan Damnoen (who I guess would have to be called the Queen’s mother), who sang at our wedding in 2006 and is also a living treasure…
I had no idea what was going on when Banyen started singing, as we were working through the free food and booze at my table in an auditorium crammed with several hundred university employees. However. I was drawn to her voice, and soon found myself threading through a crazed yelling mass of fellow teachers who were temporarily achieving enlightenment with an instinctive dance passed down through their DNA. I eventually reached the center stage and there was only a single row of people in front of me. People were offering her money as they do here – from grade school performances all the way to stadium concerts – and when she came to accept it, I saw that her dress was made from what looked like polished pieces of broken mirror… There is no way to describe the sound. It flowed through my body and I felt it as much as heard it. The primeval beat of the drums, the fluctuating melodies of the Kaen reed flute, and the luscious voice of Thailand’s Queen of Molam (I use that word because this type of Molam is basically flirting)… For a few minutes I was lost in the groove, which is something I haven’t felt for a long, long time. Dare I say it? Yes. For a few minutes, I too achieved an enlightened state. A state that I hereby coin as Molamgasm.
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The video I took on my crappy old cellphone is so bad, I was determined not to bother posting it here. The more I thought about it, though, the more I became convinced that it would be an interesting experiment: Perhaps Banyen’s presence transcends the absolutely horrible quality of the video. Possibly not. Oh well, it’s all I’ve got:

What a shame. I’m pretty sure this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Then again, it probably plays better in my memory than it ever would on YouTube. Speaking of which, if you want to see much better videos of Banyen, she is well represented there. Here are two of my favorites: LINK 1, LINK 2
If I ever have a chance to see Banyen that close again, I’ll be sure to have a decent camera. Or maybe I’ll just ask Ajarn Chawiwan to introduce me…

New Years in the Fields

As promised, here’s the whole story:
On the second day of the new year, our nanny invited us to her village for the bi-annual emptying of a communal fishpond. We piled into our trusty ’71 Crown, picked up a Japanese teacher who wanted to experience village life, and headed out deep into the rice fields. Actually, we first stopped at our nanny’s village so we could follow a pickup out to the final destination. I always carry rubber mats, wooden planks, and a shovel in the back of my car to get out of mudholes and sandy spots encountered in the back country, but with the family along for the ride it was comforting to have an escort (also, you never know when a feral Brahmin cow will decide to play cape buffalo and it’s nice to have a pickup to play decoy in such situations). The road was non-existent in places and we simply drove over drained and harvested rice fields along the paths of least resistance; I only scraped bottom once when I misjudged the far side of a steep bump. Several times, the pickup driver stopped an got out to warn me about a particularly rough patch ahead and asked if I just wanted to stop and park, but choosing the right lines is something of an obsession when I’m driving and I was lucky enough to choose correctly that day.
We eventually arrived to within walking distance (perhaps half a kilo) of the pond, which was being drained with a pump attachment hooked up to an iron buffalo (large roto-tiller or walking tractor). While waiting for the pond to drain, most of the hunters were out looking for field rats. This is where I started photo documenting the day.

A typical fish pond/holding pond used for irrigation of the adjacent rice fields.

The iron buffalo. This invention single-handedly (-footedly? -tiredly?) caused a farming revolution across the land and led to the modern lazy-ass lifestyle of real water buffalo.

Just for comparison, this is what the pond looked like at the end of the day.

Fresh unagi was one of the catches of the day. As the water level drops, they hide in the mud and must be probed for with long metal rods (actually it’s the same for some kinds of catfish as well).

Overseer Max didn’t want to show too much emotion, but ultimately approved of the way the draining and fishing stages were carried out.

////////////////// EXTREME GNARLINESS WARNING!! ////////////////////
IF YOU HAD A HARD TIME READING THE LAST POST ON EATING RATS, GO NO FURTHER. GRAPHIC RAT BUTCHERING FOLLOWS (YUM).
The method employed for catching rice field rats on this day was simple and effective. Rats make their tunnels in berms that separate rice fields. A fire is built at the entrance of a rat hole and inside the tunnels, the rats only dig deeper to escape the smoke. Some time after, the tunnels are dug out, and the asphyxiated rats are pulled out by hand.

Digging out the bounty.

The bounty.

(As it turned out, most of my photos that day were of preparing the rats for eating. The actual reason why we went, draining the fishpond, I mostly recorded with a camcorder. Some of the footage is pretty interesting but I don’t have time to process it yet.)

First, the fur was charred and scraped off.

Ready to be gutted.

Gutted and beheaded.

Ready to be grilled.

Here the intestines are being cleaned with a grass stem. These are also grilled, and eaten of course.

A photo of everyone standing on the edge of the pond taken from the direction the rats were caught.

Max says what up.

All in all, it was an extremely educational day. It’s always nice to be able to hang out with the locals and see how they really live. It’s even nicer when they are willing to show you exactly how they do what they do. On this day, we learned how to empty a fish pond, catch and cook rats, and as a bonus, I learned just how rough a road the old Crown can handle.

Typical Northeast Thai Temple

This is a “side attraction” at Wat Srisawat, located on Srisawat road in Mahasarakham. The other side of the building pictured above features a collection of concrete animals. I took photos of them last year; I’ll try and dig them up.

Water!

Nam was trying to sleep in this morning as Max has been keeping her up at night for the past few weeks, but the funniest thing happened: A man selling jugs of distilled water drove his pickup by the front of the house yelling, “nam na krup! nam na krup!” (water! water!), so Nam came running out of the bedroom a couple minutes later rubbing her eyes and asking who was here…
When she saw the guy selling water down the street she asked me to please kill him.

New Years in the Fields – Preview

This is a preview to a photo series I shot during our New Years holiday. I’ve been meaning to put it together since I shot it but Max got sick and life got in the way, etc., etc., and so forth (quote from KoS). I’m now busy doing other things, but perhaps I’ll get around to it this weekend.
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On the second day of the new year, our nanny invited us to her village for the bi-annual emptying of a communal fishpond. We piled into our trusty ’71 Crown, picked up a Japanese teacher who wanted to experience village life, and headed out deep into the rice fields. Actually, we first stopped at our nanny’s village so we could follow a pickup out to the final destination. I always carry rubber mats, wooden planks, and a shovel in the back of my car to get out of mudholes and sandy spots encountered in the back country, but with the family along for the ride it was comforting to have an escort (also, you never know when a feral Brahmin cow will decide to play cape buffalo and it’s nice to have a pickup to play decoy in such situations). The road was non-existent in places and we simply drove over drained and harvested rice fields along the paths of least resistance; I only scraped bottom once when I misjudged the far side of a steep bump. Several times, the pickup driver stopped an got out to warn me about a particularly rough patch ahead and asked if I just wanted to stop and park, but choosing the right lines is something of an obsession when I’m driving and I was lucky enough to choose correctly that day.
We eventually arrived to within walking distance (perhaps half a kilo) of the pond, which was being drained with a pump attachment hooked up to an iron buffalo (large roto-tiller or walking tractor). While waiting for the pond to drain, most of the hunters were out looking for field rats. This is where I started photo documenting the day.

To Be Continued…

Big C Mahasarakham

In November 2008, Thai superstore Big C opened a branch store in Maha Sarakham, just a few minutes down the street from us. Life hasn’t been the same since, mostly in good ways since we pay less for more and no longer have to venture downtown to the small Tesco with shitty parking inside the SermThai department store. Also, there were certain things – such as sporting goods and bicycles – that were only sold at ridiculous markups at small stores until now, so watching said shops close up forever is satisfying on some very small, very human level. On the flip side, traffic on the main street in front of our house has increased greatly – sometimes making a U-turn in front of Big C is like sitting inside a supercollider and watching electrons whizz by.

Pu Yai Ban – Village Headman

Do you see what I see?

Close up:

Now there’s nothing remarkable about village headmen here. Every village has one, and there are presumably thousands of villages in this region alone. What’s remarkable is that (presumably) a village headman has taken it upon himself to advertise his position on his pickup.
I wondered about what kind of egotistical twat would have the nerve to do something so tasteless, so pointless, and so retarded… So I waited for him to return to his car for over twenty minutes. Sure enough: One self-important asshole in a pickup, not bothering to look before he pulled into traffic and almost crushing a passing biker, to go!