incense over dose

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Oh the joy of field trips was been reinstated!

Friday we went to a little out-of-the-way wat (buddhist temple) and, under the guidance of our lovable bouncy Ling, went through the motions (begrudging only in the way of forced donations ... more in a bit) of a buddhist's visit, gaped at the ornate gold decor, bowed all around.

When we arrived, we went over to this little stall and bought buckets of hygenic items and other weird little trinkets that had been put together for the sole purpose of handing over to monks ... each included a small image of buddha, of which there are 7 - one for each day of the week - and you bought and donated the buddha of the day you were born. Little known fact.

So, buckets in tow, we walked barefoot into the temple and all knelt before a 40 foot tall, solid gold buddha (which, by the way, had a similar look on his face as most deities do when you're on your knees staring up and his eyes are kind of slanting down at you ... conjured up some serious projected emotions of insufficiency). After paying our respects (by giving an appropriate "wai" and bowing three times), we then, one by one, crawled over to a monk seated on one end of the wat.

Little known fact #2: Never cross your legs in front of a monk. And, women, steer clear. Monks aren't allowed to touch a woman or anything a woman has touched ... or else they have to go through a cleansing process (dirty, dirty girls - kooties abound).

So, the men crawled over and handed the bucket over (must be with two hands), wai-ed, and waddled away -- you're not suposed to be higher than the monk's head, so you can't get up and walk over ... some people waddle really funny. One thing about buddhists, they can laugh at just about anything ... so he was cracking up at some of us, which was great.

For women, you can either have a man hand off the donation while you are touching his shoulder to show that it is in honor of you, or the monk lays out a saffron "cleanising" cloth (circle circle, dot dot, now you have the kootie shot ...) upon which you lay your offerings. And, and, mom you'll be so proud, the monk said (translated by Ling) my wai was beeeeautiful! Oh the swelling pride.

After we had all donated, we were all given little brass bowls and an accompanying brass vial filled with water. As the monk chanted, you pour your water into the bowl and think happy thoughts for those who need them and through the chanting the water becomes blessed. We had our heads bowed for sometime and then he sprinkled -- or threw, really -- s'more blessed good luck water on us (refreshing) and my feet went numb, but hell, a little monky good luck I can use, right? 😊

Afterwards, there was another little stall where an old woman had trapped birds and fish and eels and baby turtles. The idea was that (after making another substantial donation), you can set them free. There are different meanings associated with the different animals, but the general idea was of giving life and freedom, etc, etc. Trying to supress my initial critical reaction in the back of my head asking "you catch them to set them free to catch them again?", I "donated" and selected a pair of doves that were held in a bamboo cage. Mostly because I hated seeing them squirm. Nonetheless, I released them sending out some abstract wishes for freedom, our kind not the kind perpetrated by the shrubbery some call Mr. President. And this, my friends, is a page in the diary of a donating, bird-freeing thai buddhist.

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Now. The Chinese Buddhist wat was an entirely different story ... albeit forced donations - that seemed to be a running theme.

Upon arrival, we all "donated" (much less, I have to say) and were given a package of incense. Every pack contains 45 sticks ... which, I tell you, is enough incense to make a girl dizzy. The idea is to light the whole bunch and then walk around the temple to offer bundles of three to each of the towering buddha statues and various other deities. Now maybe if you were doing this on your own it wouldn't be so bad. But with ten of us, I was nauseaus after buddha-praying station 2. It was the least gracious, spiritual exhibition of offerings the temple has ever seen, I'm sure. With all of us stumbling around, coughing, holding our heads, incense flaming up, catching things on fire that were never meant to be burned. It was awful. Needless to say, we left with haste.

However, once outside, we did a bit of chinese fortune telling that was fun ... and there were no open flames, which is always good.

My fortune wasn't anything too surprising ... just that I'm going to have to work hard for what I want, but that I will get it. I just can't rely on luck. Yeah, in publishing, who would've thunk it ... I'm sure it was worded much more poetically than that, but no matter how hard I tried to get Ling to translate it, she just kept paraphrasing and saying things like "and trees and birds, blah blah blah." It made me nervous, actually. Like maybe she was making it up. Which I guess brings me back to square one, right ... nobody knows.

That's okay, I'm cool with square one. And I think those doves are too.

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Comments

[the M that ends in -organ]

germs are gross
reading this gave me a head-ache.....too much incense is torture (well, not really. but you know what i mean) i have been attached by sick germs so i have to limit my movements....well that's exaggerating but i have been under the weather. i will write you if i very get over the treacherous plague that has overtaken me!