The Vagabond Buddha of Ratchaprarop Road

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I was inspired to write this blog by an old woman who regularly appears on the street just outside of the apartment where I stay on Ratchaprarop Road near Bangkok's Victory Monument. I like to think of her a little bit like a "Vagabond Buddha" as she is both female and likely a little bit mentally unstable and therefore, not allowed to be a member of the Thai Buddhist sangha. (The ordained Buddhist clergy) She is out on her own on the fringe, on the streets without the divine authority of a temple! (Although I do wonder if the local temple helps her out) I saw in her a little bit of Jack Kerouac's "big wild bands of holy men", often vagrants, hobos and bums, wandering around (and in his eyes) awakening a new religious order.

Like a monk out collecting alms, the Vagabond Buddha offers all of us in the neighborhood an opportunity to recirculate our good work as merit on a daily basis. Her fragile and seemingly desperate state is offset by the fact that she can come off as a blessedly dear old woman...... or a buddha as I imagine here. Her quest for meaningful relationships within the community, like the Buddha, may not be an intellectual one, but it seems to be an important one along Ratchaprarop Road, well known for seedy karaoke bars, brothels, slums as well as nice hotels and condos. Her vagabond buddhaness showcases a revealing symbol for the community in all its poverty and wealth. The simple complexity of relationships that underlie her daily mission are put on a small but conspicuous stage for your consideration as you pass.

This Vagabond Buddha likes to stand near the Shell gas station on my side of the road and in front of the 7-Eleven across the road. Both locations are next to the curb and virtually in the way of oncoming traffic. Miraculously, or perhaps not, she is never touched by any of the vehicles that come soaring or inching past her. Bangkok drivers may prefer not to follow street signs and red lights, but they nearly always mind people when they put themselves in the way of traffic. If you have never tried it, it is a test of nerves the first time to put your body in front of cars, motorcycles and buses. After that it begins to come more naturally. In the case of the Vagabond Buddha, she doesn’t mind after them at all, but traffic with seeming obsequiousness carefully circles around her with regularity. I have noticed her doing this for several years now and today, as always, she remained untouched by the chaotic roadshow around her.

She is a hard figure to ignore. House sandals bedeck her feet and she wears what seem to be the same floral pair of pajamas while dutifully clutching a number of plastic bags. Her short stocky little body sort of totters there with her head bobbing downward clasping her hands together in a Thai wai, all with a seemingly dear/desolate look on her face. One of her bags is always filled with a number of water bottles, others often with fruit, yet others have manufactured convenience snacks and there is often a little cash stuffed amidst it all.

From an economic or subsistence point of view, she seems to make out quite well, but I need to be careful as I don’t want to make this out to be a story of her relative wealth or poverty. I could focus on the intense wrinkles and discolorations of age that speckle her face and her neck or the white sticky looking cream that she likes to haphazardly apply to her face. But this might inspire pity and I didn't see her that way today. Even though it is clear to me that she might very well be in a mental institution or assigned to a social worker if she was in a Western country, I haven’t taken enough time to get to know her to make such judgements of her overall well-being. Perhaps this is why I have never felt quite right taking her picture. Our level of understanding is quite superficial and today was the first time I felt inspired to engage with her.

I don’t know why I had never done so before. Perhaps because I knew today I could offer something without pity or discomfort. Perhaps because I realized the act of giving was more about me than her. Although her situation at least on the surface resembles the begging culture in Boston, I am uncomfortable to make such a superficial assertion. The most obvious difference is the lack of winter here, but that is not all. Beggars in Boston tend to be more aggressive and entrepreneurial much like the tourist touts in these parts whereas the beggars in Bangkok tend to be more passive and resigned.

In Bangkok, they might have a skin disease like leprosy, one leg or no legs, a baby, or a Buddhist show of submissiveness but they rarely get off the ground. On the whole, I get the impression, they tend to be a more repressed class of people. In Boston on the other hand, I have been told stories, hustled and even threatened by local homeless and beggars of all types. Perhaps drug dependence is more of an issue there, but it is more than that. Outside of the more aggressive hustle, I get stories about bad luck, jokes as well as charming entrepreneurial advances. Thais that sell transportation, clothing, souvenirs, food, tours and entertainment behave similarly.

Like other homeless people here and elsewhere, the Vagabond Buddha has her own territory carved out. Many begging here in Bangkok are found in tourist and consumption zones. In front of 7-Eleven also tends to be a favored spot. Two roughly weathered gentleman, one younger and one older, make a home on the ledges of one of the numerous 7-Elevens in the area. (There are at least ten stores on this square block running no more than 2 kilometers in circumference around the Ratchaprarop-Phaholyothin-Phyathai-Soi Rang Nam loop.)

Unlike most other homeless people(although some are like her), she gave me what seemed to be a formal blessing after I presented her with the goods. (I gave her about a kilo of dragonfruit). With her hands constantly held together in a wai and her head facing down, I couldn’t quite catch everything she said. I did catch enough Thai language ko’s, uayporn’s and charoen’s (requests for blessings and prosperity) to feel that she was offering me a form of merit, much like a monk does after being given alms on his daily rounds. When a monk receives an offering he will often chant a blessing while you kneel and receive them. As a point of comparison, I handed some fruit to two guys that regularly sit in front of the 7-Eleven today, one of them taking it without a word as he was slurping down some rice and the other fast asleep. Is it that the women often seem to be more thankful and enterprising then the men or is that just my imagination? I know that Mr. Grameen, the founder of microlending, has spent years belaboring this point.

At present I don’t have a place of my own. Since June, I have been sleeping on the couch of my good friend Yngve. It is a nice couch and a nice room in one of Bangkok’s more upscale condos. There is a swimming pool, a stunning view of the city and a convenient location to most of the cities best amenities. Nonetheless, I am still on the couch! I do some cooking, limited cleaning and a little bit of shopping to keep my roommates, Yngve and his girlfriend Fon, happy with me; an unstable but workable form of reciprocal exchange with comfortable livability has been shaped. I am reminded of the times when I stay with my grandparents in Philadelphia, but I still possess a lot more freedom here. Bangkok is not Philadelphia and I am most of the time thankful for that.

There are many days when I get locked out of the apartment and when I wouldn't mind having my own place. These are the days when I feel a sense of kinship with the "Vagabond Buddha". I am forced onto the streets and have to make choices about where to go and who to engage. Of course, I have money in my pocket and my stay on the couch is quite temporary, but this privileged life of mine does allow me to compare her place and mine in the world. Despite our differences, I felt relieved today to be able to share something with her, however small or soon forgotten. Because she often seems so comfortable with her daily routine at the curb, and I never seem to be completely comfortable with my place here in Bangkok, I have often wanted to ask her,"Is this home? Why or why not?" "Why have we chosen, or been chosen, to live like this?" In this sense, I wonder if she or I are more of a vagabond or more of a Buddha. Whether or not such questions would even be comprehensible to her is unknown. Even if the answer was negative, the possibility of these questions are one of the main reasons she has always evoked my curiosity and dignified sympathy much more often than shallow kitchsy pity.

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Photos

Merit is fruit and fruit is merit
Creating a circle of merit....my offering to the Vagabond Buddha

Comments

[sandy]

Interesting parallels. I always enjoy your blogs. Miss you.