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Day time lanterns set off by child monks at the temple.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
Bang! Pop! Crack! Explosions filled the blue sky with smoke as little boys ran away covering their ears and the crowd watched a puffy white lantern with a tail made of fireworks bob chaotically into the blue sky. A toy airplane detached from the tail and gently glided through the air. The boys were monks, celebrating Loy Krathong, the Lantern Festival, in their temple school. 18 years ago I lived with a family, wore a uniform to high school, and spent afternoons with teens at the mall in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I returned this year with my dietician friend Sarah to celebrate Loy Krathong and learn to cook.
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Temple bells left by the devout at Wat Phra Doi Suthep.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
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The 300 steps of Wat Phra Doi Suthep.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
On our first morning in Thailand, we woke at dawn, eager to see the sun rise from Chiang Mai’s magnificent temple-on-the-mountain, Wat Phra That Doi Suthep. To reach the temple we climbed 300 steps, flanked by undulating golden naga serpents. As we ascended past a stream of descending monks, one smiled and greeted us with a gentle, “Sawadeekap.” At the top, worshippers circled the temple’s gleaming golden chedi, built to hold Buddha’s shoulder bone, clasping incense, candles and lotus blossoms in their hands before offering the items on bended knees. Touched by the ritual, we decided to join in.
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Temple decorations for Loy Krathong.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
Later that night, thousands of glowing lanterns filled the skies over the city for Loy Krathong. Thais and tourists alike posed for photos with big smiles on their faces in front of life-sized dragons and elephants, lit from within. By chance we discovered a temple lit by hundreds of candles. The temple’s golden chedi reflected the shimmering flames as a black and white cat slept peacefully amongst the candles and a kneeling monk chanted eerily into a microphone. As we exited the temple gate, decorated with colorful lanterns and palm fronds, hundreds of glowing lanterns floated to the heavens, competing with the stars for attention. As we wandered the city streets on this magic night we encountered one candlelit temple after another, wafting with incense, and filled with monks and revelers lighting and launching lanterns into the night sky.
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Krathong for floating on the river.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
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These women were catching floating lanterns
to steal the coins tucked into them.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
On the River Ping people set krathongs made of flowers, candles, incense, bamboo leaves and money afloat, meant to float away their troubles. Kids set off fireworks in all directions on the riverbanks while vendors sold plastic bags filled with live fish, eels, and turtles to be set free to gain merit. The Ping sparkled with floating candles while opportunistic men and women stood chest-deep in the river catching krathongs with bamboo sticks to snatch the cash offerings. All of this celebrating was making us hungry.
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Me with my krathong on the River Ping.
Photo by Sarah Koszyk |
We spent the next day at
Thai Farm Cooking School, beginning at the market where we eyed tubs of curry paste, baskets heaped with dried chilies, and krathongs made of orange marigolds and purple orchids. At the farm, we picked and smelled kaffir lime leaves, lemongrass, and basil, piquing our taste buds. Bright blue skies, crisp white clouds, lush greenery, lily ponds, and airy kitchens made for a fantastic setting. Sawat, our smiling teacher, and owner of the school, sprinkled Buddhist philosophy into his lesson, “Focus on your breath, it is your best friend,” while educating us on organic farming. Sawat coached me through five complex and delicious Thai dishes, leaving me with the ultimate souvenir: a new skill. Since returning home, I’ve impressed friends and family with home-cooked Thai feasts.
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Chili sauces and oils at the market.
Photo by Madeline Horn |
The morning of our departure we revisited the temple we’d been drawn to our first day by the child-monks’ daytime firecrackers. After worshiping, celebrating, and eating with Thais for a week, we had a much deeper understanding of the temple’s importance to social, educational, and spiritual life. I couldn’t have chosen a better time than Loy Krathong for my return to Thailand, a country that changed my whole outlook at the age of 15. On my recent trip I saw clearly the connection between Buddhism and the Thai warmth, compassion, and positivity that affected me so deeply in high school, a soothing antidote to American teenagers’ negative attitudes. When it came time to leave, I felt like I might start crying just like I did the first time I left Chiang Mai.
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