Buddhism 101: Moms Maybe

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Wats

Naga, Markara, or Mom? I’m thinking a Buddhist version of the Cookie Monster.

Okay, so that title’s a pun intended to those of a certain age and era, but if you’ve been to a wat in Northern Thailand those creatures you leaned a hand against while taking off your shoes could have been moms. Maybe.

“Aha!” I said, having learned those dragon looking creatures used as a balustrade at many temples in Thailand were actually Naga, a popular mythological beast in Thailand and throughout SE Asia.

“Aha!” I said having learned that some of those naga were actually markara, and then for the sake of clarity some too are markara with naga sprouting from their mouth,

“WTF?” I said having learned the creatures I’d just taken a photo of were neither naga or markara. Sure it looked more like a worm than a snake, but I’d just assumed it was some kind of larval naga.

If it’s a cross between a dragon and a snake, it’s probably a Naga.

Obtaining a state of enlightenment can sometimes be a bitch. Especially when it comes to all of the fanciful creatures that inhabit the typical temple in Thailand. You’d think they’d make it easy like in the Christian faith and just stick to one god. Oh, wait . . . there’s all those saints the Catholics favor too. But seriously, just how many mythical water born creatures do you need?

Evidently, as with Mount Olympus’ pantheon, when it comes to the Himmapan Forest, quantity is more important than quality. And when you lived in an agricultural community in SE Asia, you can never have enough gods to pray to for rain. Naga, the more commonly spotted cross between a snake and a dragon with anywhere from one to seven heads, has its origins in Buddhist myth by way of Hinduism; a protector of The Buddha during a nasty downpour, he’s usually associated with water. And the closer you live to the Mekong, the more his legend moves from being an influence on precipitation to holding godly sway over the mighty river.

If that naga looks like something is eating it, it’s probably a Markara.

Markara – which took the same religious journey to SE Asia as did the naga – too are a powerful symbol in a culture where water plays a crucial role in daily life and agricultural activities. If Naga can best be described as looking like a snake, markara comes closest to looking like a crocodile – except for having the snout or trunk of an elephant, the tusks and ears of a wild boar, the darting eyes of a monkey, the scales and flexible body of a fish, and the swirling tail feathers of a peacock. Like with naga, markara are often used as balustrades on northern Thai temples, sometime sprouting naga from their mouths, sometimes sprouting vegetables or plants. Which should clue you in to its heavenly purpose having much to do with fertility and rain. Once again.

Interestingly (to me) and though it has nothing to do with mom (at last not mine), markara is the origin of the word for crocodile in Hindi, which is mugger. Which in turn evolved into the same word in the English language, meaning a criminal who sneaks up and attacks someone. The Thais took a different linguistic route however, and markara are generally viewed as guardians when they appear at the entrance to buildings in wats.

And if it looks more like a slug, albeit a vicious one, it’s probably a Mom.

So if it looks like a naga, walks like a naga, and isn’t a markara . . . if you are up north, there’s a good chance it’s a mom. Like his serpentine and crocodilian brethren, mom too are often the focal decoration at the base of stairways in Thai temples. Some scholars claim he is a Burmese / Lanna variant of the markara, but with a rounder and jowlier head. So not so much a snake or crocodile, but more of a worm. With teeth. And like with naga and markara, mom often serve as guardians at Buddhist temples whose job is to frighten monsters away.

A mug only a mother could love. But that one belongs to a Markara.

Mom too come to Thailand by way of Hinduism, where they are depicted looking more like hybrid of a cat or lion with a bit of gecko thrown in for luck. For its Buddhist use – though supposedly a great deal smarter than humans – they serve as a warning against clinging to things; mom hold onto what they have and know, and so are unable to achieve enlightenment. More importantly to matters of physical rather than spiritual survival, they control the sources of rain and are the guardians of life-giving energy in its waters.

In ancient Lanna times – which probably also means currently in rural agricultural areas of Northern Thailand – mom are prayed to for rain. During the hot dry period, before planting, farmers would put a carved representation of the mom in a wicker basket and carry it in procession through the village and to the temple. So like with both the naga and markara, at times, mom too symbolize water and fertile soil. You wouldn’t think you’d need three different heavenly creatures for one job, but then rain to a agricultural people is often a matter of life or death. So it’s good that there is no need for putting all of your eggs in one basket. And it’s not like the holy trinity thingy hasn’t been used in other religious belief systems.

Though sometimes it’s easier to identify a ladyboy than which mythical creature is guarding that wat.

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Wats

My friend Noom often communicates with a nod or jerk of his head, a smile or snarl, and a widening or narrowing of his eyes. That’s usually a sufficient enough of a reply to whatever question I just asked him. Except when I’m looking for a detailed explanation. Which usually has to do with some odd local custom we’ve just run across. The first time we visited a wat that had miles of white cotton string running from the Buddha statues to every conceivable point within the temple I wanted to know why. The smile, jerk of his head upward, followed by his eyes tracing the route of one piece of string did little to expand my base of knowledge. No problemo. Google is often a bit more communicative.

But then using an internet search engine can be a lot like using one of those old magic eight balls; there is a lot riding on what you ask or search for. Whether I used Thailand specifically or SE Asia in general along with string and wat as search terms, all Google wanted to tell me about was the bracelets you sometime get tied around your wrist by a monk when visiting a wat, or the local marriage ceremony tradition that results in the same cotton wrapped wrist. Sometimes you’d be better off, or no worse off, if Google could nod its head, smile, and make an incomprehensible eye gesture.

More visitors to SE Asia run across the string bracelet than they do (or notice) the strings looped around the interior of a wat. So it makes sense that Google assumes that’s the subject you are interested in when you use string and wat in your search query. I don’t think quite as many visitors get to experience a local wedding, but since the two are closely related, there’s a lot of info on that subject too. Adding Buddha to your set of search terms only helps a little. But does begin to narrow down the results. From there, Google says you are on your own. I’ll have to try that search again in a week and see if this article has convinced Google there might be another answer.

It seems appropriate since The Buddha says attaining the state of enlightenment is a journey, that becoming enlightened about this custom should be a journey too. Yours, which took only three paragraphs, was shorter than mine. I suppose it makes sense that there’s not a big difference between the strings tied around your wrist and those tied around the inside of a wat; it turns out the binding aspect and meaning of the two are similar. In fact the more common of the two stems from the other. In most cases when the string tied throughout a wat has served its purpose it’s cut into small pieces and used to make the bracelets most visitors to Thai temples are familiar with.

Thais have always had a knack for assimilating other cultures into theirs and this one is no different. The string, called sai sen, comes from India and Hindu culture. Today it is predominantly used in the northern regions of Thailand, but also in a slightly different form in Issan where it first travelled through Laos and gained its own set of customs. Cambodia too has been heavily influenced by India in the past, so that the custom is popular there too makes sense. Whether wrapped around your wrist or throughout a temple the string, which has been blessed by monks, is intended to keep out evil spirits and protect everyone and everything inside its boundaries.

Considering the numerous times sai sin is strung it’s surprising you don’t see it in use more often. It is an integral part of house blessing ceremonies, funerals, weddings, graduations, ceremonies to celebrate the completion or anniversary of the construction of a new building within a temple, and as an observance of special Buddhist holidays. Typically, the sai sin starts in the hands of the head monk who begins to unravel the string, holding a piece while passing it to the next monk (and so on and so on) while the monks chant. The connection between the monks and the thread is thought to form a sacrosanct circle as the chanting infuses the thread with sacred power. Symbolically it links those tied with it to a source of special power, often times the wat’s primary Buddha image.

Sai sin is also used in villages where it is tied onto poles and fences above head height, leaving lengths branching off for each house along the way to connect their own piece of sai-sin to the main cord by circling it around the eaves of their home to form a loop. Usually as part of a house blessing ceremony, this custom serves to bind the community together. The Akha hill-tribe of Northern Thailand have their own cord-tying ritual, believing it to be a ‘soul string’ that stops the soul from becoming lost while maintaining a connection to the village. When used as part of a wedding ceremony, the purpose of the sai sin is to transfer the benefits of the blessing directly down to each of the participant, especially the newly married couple.

So the strings you see running through a wat and those tied around the wrists of visitors to the wat are yet another example of the typical Thai state of same same, but different. Even if it did take me far too much effort in scouring the internet to come to that conclusion. I coulda saved myself a lot of time by realizing that Noom’s smile, jerk of his head upward, followed by his eyes tracing the string’s route in the wat we were visiting the first time I ran across the custom pretty much said it all.

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Wats

Wiharn, viharn, wihan or wihara? Any term will do. Unless it is an ubosot.

It doesn’t help that translating from Thai into English means there are always multiple correct ways to spell a word. Though technically none are correct since they’re not in Thai; close is supposed to only count in horseshoes. Matters are not improved thanks to the internet where all it takes is one person to unintentionally post incorrect info that is then copied and pasted over and over again until it becomes an accepted truth. When it come to Buddhist temples in Thailand, in the grand scheme of things it may not matter anyway – you certainly can enjoy visiting a wat in SE Asia without knowing what any of the buildings are or what purpose they serve. But many visitors like to know what a temple’s larger buildings are and what purpose they serve. Generally, the largest and most imposing building within a temple’s grounds is the wiharn. Or viharn. Or wihan. Or wihara. Whichever term you prefer is as correct as the next. Unless you are speaking about the wat’s ubosot.

And therein lays the problem. The ubosot, or bot – just to keep things straight – is also many times a impressive and large building. At some wats it is larger than the wiharn. There is no specific order regarding layout at a temple, so at one wat the first structure – and what appears to the focal building – you’ll see is the wiharn. At others it will be the bot. And at still others they are side by side. They both can, and often do, contain an altar with a large central Buddha figure. The more well-known statue of the Buddha is sometimes in the wiharn. And sometimes it’s in the wat’s bot.

A wat’s bot can be identified by the sema stones surrounding its exterior, though identifying the sema stones can sometimes be tricky.

Of the two, the ubosot is the most sacred. Even when it is the smaller of the two and tucked away in a corner. Some wats have more than one wiharn. But there is never more than one bot. Though there may be a wiharn and no ubosot at all. It’s no wonder many Westerners just call them chapels, temples, or buildings to avoid any attempt at identifying which is which and most likely, getting the identification wrong.

In an attempt to be English-speaker friendly, a lot of guide books and website call a wiharn the Assembly Hall, Prayer Hall, or Sermon Hall and the ubosot the Ordination Hall. Unfortunately they also use those terms for either of the two buildings, possibly thanks to not actually knowing which is which themselves. In function these English terms serve well when they are correctly applied. The wiharn is used as a public place where both monks and the faithful pray and participate in ceremonies. The ubosot is generally reserved for use by monks and is usually the building where morning and evening prayers are said. However, you know how Thai are about rules. So you may observe monks performing their morning and evening prayers in the wiharn sometimes. And some bots, such as the one at Wat Pho, are routinely used by lay people for praying.

Wat Chedi Luang in Chiang Mai is best known for its humongous chedi. Its impressive wiharn at the front of the wat is often called a bot on the internet, which unusually enough is not necessarily incorrect.

The one constant is that the ubosot is the building where new monks are ordained, hence the Ordination Hall moniker. (If the wat does not have a ubosot, then new monks cannot be ordained at that temple.) You can usually tell the difference between the two in that the bot always has eight boundary markers, called sema stones, with one each placed at the corners and axes of its exterior. But don’t forget, you are in Thailand where rules were not only made to be broken, but are often completely ignored too.

Wat Chedi Luang in Chiang Mai is the city’s most popular religious destination for touri. It has a massive wiharn at the front of the grounds, with its famous crumbling chedi located directly behind that building. There are also several smaller wiharn behind the chedi. And the ubosot? There is a small, nondescript one tucked away on the temple’s grounds, but it has not been used since the mid-1980s. Instead, the main wiharn was allocated and marked to serve as an ordination hall; the wat’s impressive wiharn has doubled as its ubosot since 1979.

Which building at Wat Pho is the ubosot? It contains the Phra Tang Pha Thip Buddha image.

Generally, both the wiharn and ubosot are enclosed structures; they have four walls and a roof. Open-air structures within a temple’s compound are called a sala when used for sermons. But some wiharn, such as at Wat Suab Dok in Chiang Mai, are also built in this style. Just in case you were not sufficiently confused.

Because of its fame and familiarity to most touri, Wat Pho in Bangkok is a good example of a temples’ wiharn and ubosot and why and how the two can be so easily confused. Most people immediately think of the giant Reclining Buddha when you mention Wat Pho, and for many touri that is about all they see on their visit because time is short and they still have to rush off to view Jim Thompson’s house that day. The Reclining Buddha, as impressive as it is, is located inside one of Wat Pho’s wiharn (the temple has nine). As popular as the statue is, from a religious standpoint it is one of the lesser of the wat’s wiharn. Even though it is far more grand than the others.

The ubosot at Wat Phra Singh is quite ornate and spectacular in its own right, but smaller and stuck behind the temple’s more massive wiharn.

The four main wiharn at Wat Pho are arranged at each of the four compass points and surround the wat’s ubosot (coming from the Reclining Buddha, the first wiharn you’d encounter is the western one). Sometimes they are referred to as the directional wiharn. The remaining four wiharn are L-shaped and sit in each of the northern compound’s corners, two of which are often referred to as galleries.

Why as a visitor should you care which building is a bot and which is a wiharn? While in either you should remember you are in a house of worship and conduct yourself accordingly, you should be even more respectful when visiting a bot. Depending on the temple, the ubosot may not be open, or may not be open to non-Buddhist visitors. Technically, women are not allowed in a bot at any time, though this prohibition is enforced at some wats and not strictly enforced at others (watch for a sign, or make sure there are other women visiting the building before entering). The wiharn is usually the best place to interact with a monk, the bot the best place to head during morning or evening prayers – in case you are short on time and want to make the most out of your visit.

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Buddhism 101: Monday, Monday

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Wats

Chiang Mai’s Doi Suthep has several lines of the Buddhas that represent the days of the week.

Thais tend to be a religious lot. They also tend to be a superstitious people. The two often go hand in hand and the dividing line between faith and myth is often a thin one. In a previous post I covered the better known positions of Buddha statues, particularly their hand gestures which are known as mudras. There are also positions that represent certain events in the life of The Buddha, events which are believed to have occurred on specific days of the week. Many Thais consider the image assigned to the day of the week they were born to be especially auspicious for them; they will have that image in their homes, pray to that image at wats, and have that position used when commissioning a Buddha image.

It is not unusual to run across a line of all seven Buddhas at a wat, though if you count them there are eight (yes, this is Thailand). Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai, a perennial favorite of visitors to northern Thailand, has such a display, and as I mentioned in my recent post about Wat Traimit and the Golden Buddha in Bangkok’s Chinatown, that temple has a line of fortune telling machines each displaying one of the seven, er eight, postures.

The Buddha for Sunday.

SUNDAY
The Buddha for those born on Sunday is called Phra Tawai Natra, he is in the Open-Eye posture, a pensive image that represents the Buddha after attaining a state of nirvana, contemplating the suffering of all living things as he dedicates himself to sharing his knowledge and helping others to attain the same freedom of mind.

A person born on a Sunday is respectable, wise, and loved by friends and family. He is likely to be in a professional occupation, a manager, doctor, or even craftsman. His lucky day is Wednesday and lucky color is green, though Tuesday and pink ain’t bad either. Sunday’s child’s unlucky day is Friday and his unlucky color is blue.

Monday’s Buddha.

MONDAY
Monday’s Buddha is known as Phra Ham Yath, or Making Peace or Preventing Calamities which, not surprisingly is a position also known as Pacifying The Relatives. Yup, in-laws were a bitch even for the Buddha. This position depicts the Buddha when he returned from heaven after three months and found his relatives arguing about the rights to water flowing through their land. A standing position, the Buddha’s fingers are extended in the abhaya mudra position.

A person born on a Monday has a good memory, is serious, and loves to travel. Skilled occupations are best for Monday’s children. Their lucky day is Saturday and lucky color is black, with Wednesday and green coming in a close second. If you were born on Monday, watch out for Sundays and the color orange.

The Reclining Buddha represents Tuesday.

TUESDAY
The Buddha position for Tuesday is the Reclining Buddha (Phra Sai Yas) the most famous being that found at Wat Pho in Bangkok. The story that goes along with this position is that the Buddha, while staying at Savatthi, ran up against an arrogant evil dude named Asura Rahu who was so gigantic he didn’t feel the need to pay proper respect to Buddha. So the Buddha made himself even bigger and settled into the reclining position as a bitch slap to lower Rahu’s pride.

Those born on Tuesday are brave, active, and serious but are broad minded. They are often cops, soldiers, or . . . hairdressers. Huh. Their lucky day is Thursday and their lucky color is yellow. Saturdays and black work well too, but Mondays and white are both considered unlucky for those born on Tuesday.

Wednesday Morning’s Buddha is in the Receiving position.

WEDNESDAY (MORNING)
According to an old poem about birth days in the western world, Wednesday’s child is full of woe. Maybe that’s why in Buddhism they spit the day in two. There is a Buddha image for those born in the morning on Wednesday, and a sperate one for those born in the evening.

The morning position is Phra Um Bhat, which is often referred to a the Receiving position. The Buddha is standing and holding an alms bowl. Coming from a wealthy family, when the Buddha returned home for a visit after spending four years in a monastery, his papa was not pleased to see him begging for food. (Pops would have been a fan of Mitt Romney.) The Buddha explained that it wasn’t about the begging but rather making himself available to the faithful to allow them to make merit. (Which updated means that 47% of Americans are looking after the spiritual well-being of 53% of their countrymen.)

Those born on Wednesday morning are fun-loving, gregarious, artistic, emotional, and often do creative work. Wednesday nights and light green are lucky for them, and yellow and Thursdays are not bad either. You may be thinking ‘gay’ with the artistic nature of those born on Wednesday mornings, but pink is an unlucky color for them. And Tuesday are not their best day of the week.

The Buddha for Wednesday Evenings.

WEDNESDAY (EVENING)
The Buddha for those born on Wednesday night is usually the last in the row when the eight Buddhas are lined up. He is in the Resting With Monkey and Elephant posture, and is known as Phra Par Lelai (The Blessed One). The position represents the Buddha’s respect for all living things.

People born on Wednesday evenings are hard working, diligent, and honest. Oh what a difference a few hours makes, huh? They are often employed as doctors, scientists, and archaeologists. Their lucky day is Monday and white is their lucky color, followed closely by Sundays and orange. Thursdays are not a good day for them, nor is the color yellow.

Thursday’s Buddha is in yoga’s full lotus position.

THURSDAY
Thursday’s Buddha is Phra Samathi and he is in the meditation or yoga position. This full lotus position in yoga is believed to be the ultimate balance of tranquility and thoughts and is receptive to power or energy to enter the body from the top of the head and the opening palms. Thursday’s Buddha’s hand gesture is known as the dhyani mudra. It is the position the Buddha took when achieved enlightenment.

Those born on Thursdays have a good heart, are graceful, often at peace, and are generally honest. Judges, lawyers, teachers, and clergymen are often born on Thursdays. Sunday is their lucky day; orange is their lucky color. Blues and Fridays are also lucky, but black is not good for them nor are Saturdays.

The Buddha for Friday is Phra Ram Pueng.

FRIDAY
For those born on Friday the Buddha is in the Contemplation position and is known as Phra Ram Pueng. This position represents the Buddha’s realization that no one is perfect. He worried that ordinary people would not be able to understand dharma and bring it into practice, but then came to understand that like the nature of the lotus, all living creatures posses different habits at different times and can blossom into beauty.

People born on Friday are fun loving, friendly, and ambitious, and are often an entertainer or public figure. Their lucky day is Tuesday and the lucky color is pink. Mondays and the color white are also considered to be lucky for Friday’s child. Their unlucky time is Wednesday night and the unlucky color is light green.

Saturday’s Buddha is protected by the King of Naga.

SATURDAY
The Buddha for those born on Saturday is Phra Naga Prok. He is in the Protection position, which depicts the Buddha sitting in meditation, protected by the King of Naga’s hood from a rainstorm, with his coiled body lifting the Buddha above the flood waters.

Saturday’s child is calm, logical and sometimes a bit of a recluse. He is very likely engaged in manual work of a skilled nature. The lucky day for those born on Saturday is Friday and their lucky color is blue. Wednesdays nights are also lucky for them as is the corresponding color of light green. Darker greens, and Wednesday mornings are unlucky for those born on Saturdays.

Any mor doo (fortune teller) you consult in Thailand worth his salt will need to know which day you were born on as it will from the basis for his calculations for your fortune. If you do not know, this handy little app will tell you.

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Bangkok, Chiang Mai, Lamphun, Luang Prabang, Wats

An ornate hti at Lamphun’s Wat Phra That Haripunchai

Nah, it’s just a hti.

Looking skyward when visiting a wat in Thailand, you may see many strange creatures and details used as architectural elements. Many are finials on the wat’s roof, some are free standing. Some are typically found at all wats, others only in the North where the architecture takes on influences from Burma and Laos. You can enjoy them without knowing what they are or what they represent, but having that knowledge may make your visit a bit more rewarding. If nothing else you can impress, or bore, your travelling companions with your superior wisdom and insight.

Dok So Fa @ Wat Ho Xieng in Luang Prabang

Dok So Fa:
I was recently sorting through the photos I took at Wat Sri Suphan in Chiang Mai and noticed the ubosot under construction has a dok so fa. Maybe I’m easily entertained, but that architectural detail grabbed my attention. You don’t see them much in Thailand, they are a temple element used in Laos. A few Northern Thailand wats include a dok so fa, but they are a rare sight.

Chiang Mai’s Silver Wat features a dok so fa. Notice the unusal trio of hang hong in the image of Ganesha, Guarda, and a Naga.

This metallic detail sitting mid-center on the temple’s roof line looks like a crown. It is usually made up of a number of small gilded parasols, though occasionally other elements are used. The more elements this decoration on top of the roof has, the more important is the monastery. In Laos, if more than ten are used in the dok so fa’s design it signifies that the wat was built by a king. Dok so fa are said to symbolize the universe.

Cho fa @ Wat Pho in Bangkok.

Cho Fa:
Often in the form of a stylized garuda, the mythical bird-like creature of Buddhist legend, these graceful decorations sweeping skyward rise from either end of the temple’s roof peaks. Cho fas are often referred to as sky tassels and are the most distinctive detail on wat roof lines. Cho fa, and to a lesser extent hang hong, are often decorated with little bells that tinkle in the wind.

The gilt cho fa, hang hong, and hti of Wat Phan Tao in Chiang Mai gleam in the sun.

The belief is that the cho fa protect the temple from flying demons; should an evil spirit fall from the sky it will be impaled on the point of the cho fa and be unable to cause harm to the religious community.

A highly stylized naga hang hong at Wat Rong Khun outside of Chiang Rai.

Hang Hong:
Joining the cho fa as decoration on a wat’s roof are hang hong, most often seen in the form of naga heads. Hang hong are often an integral part of the roof’s bargeboard, called pan lom, that cover the ends of the gables to prevent roof tiles from falling off. The bargeboards are often decorated like a downward, undulating body of the naga. Blade-like projections along the spine of the pan lom are usually stylized naga scales or feathers of the garuda and are called bai raka. Hang hong usually face away from the roof.

Bai Raka @ Wat Mounthien in Chiang Mai.

Chad:
Chads are the humongous, usually gold, umbrellas you see in the courtyards of wats in Northern Thailand, Not to be confused with the tiered umbrellas used over statues of the Buddha, Chad are filigreed parasols of Burmese origin that are often affixed to the corners of the railings enclosing the wat’s chedi.

Chad @ Wat Phra That Haripunchai in Lamphun.

Hti:
Think of a hti (pronounced ‘tea’) as an underachieving chad. Also from Burma and seen most frequently in northern Thailand temple architecture, hti are often bejeweled, sometimes gold, and sometimes silver. They adorn the topmost part of a wat’s chedi and appear on temple spires throughout the Kingdom.

Hti top the spires of The Loha Prasat at Wat Ratchanadda in Bangkok.

Buddhism 101: Buddhist Balls

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Chiang Mai, Wats

Buddha Balls in Chiang Mai

Oh come on now. You really fell for that one? Sometimes you guys are just too predictable.

On my most recent trip to Chiang Mai, while visiting a handful of wats I ran across something new. At least new to me: humongous stone balls all lined up in a row, many sporting squares of gold leaf . They looked like oversized bowling balls sitting on the ball return rack at your local bowling alley.

The first set appeared at Wat Monthien, the temple on Sriphum Road just down the street and around the corner from the Tha Pae Gate that I call the chocolate wat because of its color and that the details on its exterior look like piping on a chocolate cake. I like chocolate cake. I like balls too. I’m not sure why beyond the obvious, but the shape attracts me. So I took a photo, one that would eventually go into the ‘eh’ file except that the next day at a totally different wat I ran across a second set of balls. The balls in the second set were even larger. I guess even to Buddhists size matters.

Google usually does a pretty good job of settling matters of curiosity for me. But even though now that the world’s #1 search engine makes suggestions for what you are searching for, it’s still a case of garbage in garbage out. When I tried to find out why Buddhist temples in Chiang Mai all of a sudden had an affinity for large balls, Google decided my mind was filled with garbage and refused to play. Damn. That Google is a pretty sharp cookie.

Luk nimit lined up ready for blessing and then burial.

My second favorite search engine when I’m in Thailand is my friend Noom. He’d probably agrees with Google about the state of my mind, but armed with photos I figured I stood a decent chance of getting an answer out of him. And just hoped it would be one that I could understand. I didn’t expect a full discourse on the subject, but rather just enough info that I could go back to Google and be deemed worthy of some applicable search results. Be careful of what you wish for. Even when it has to do with a large set of balls.

Turns out the ‘what’ was pretty simple. They are called luk nimit. They are balls buried under the boundary markers found at all wats (well, at the ubosot at each wat). Not that I’d ever particularly noticed those architectural details before. In Thai wats, there are eight markers, called bai sema, one at each corner, and one at each midpoint of the bot. Under each is one of the balls. There is a ninth ball placed under the main Buddha statue within the structure too.

Noom can never quite decide if I’m really, really smart, or really, really dumb. This time around he went with the latter and after explaining what the balls were, turned back to my photos and slowly counted out each ball for me. Okay. Got it. And then, in case I’d missed the lesson, at every wat we hit on the rest of the trip – which was a lot – he’d point out the bai sema to me, and count them out too. And all you get is a single blog entry to deal with.

A bai sema at Wat Bowonniwet in Bangkok.

The bai sema, which have never been grand enough to attract my attention before – but which I now fear will be pointed out to me for eternity – are usually leaf shaped. The flat stoned semas are representational of the leaves of the Bodhi tree, the tree under which the Buddha sat while achieving enlightenment. Some bai sema, from the Ayutthaya period, have eyes and are decorated with crowns.

Normally you don’t see the luk nimit since they are buried beneath the bai sema. Those I saw up north were for new bots that were to be built at their respective wats. While the luk nimit are on display, locals offer prayers and place gold leaf on them, a form of merit making. Once the ground where the ubosot is to be built is consecrated, a ceremony is held to bless the temple and the balls are buried.

Buddhism 101: Eat Moon

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Wats

Eats Moon

(Regardless of your purpose in visiting Thailand, you can not escape the country’s religious beliefs; Buddhism plays an integral part in the peoples’ daily lives and is evident where ever you go. Temples and shrines are a common sight throughout the Kingdom. It is difficult, and would be a shame, for any tourist to not visit at least one wat during their holiday. And though many appear to look alike, each is unique in its own way, providing visitors a never ending opportunity for an exceptional cultural experience when visiting Thai places of worship during their travels.

You do not need to know a thing about Buddhism to appreciate the numerous pieces of art found in Thailand’s wats. On the other hand, a modicum of knowledge can make your visit that much more enjoyable.

I am not a follower of Buddha, and certainly no expert on Buddhism. But I have come to know a bit about the religion, and a bit about the Buddhist images most frequently seen in Thailand. I’ll share my limited knowledge with you in this series of posts, not to convert or enlighten but rather to provide a small glimpse of the religion to provide travellers a basic understanding that can add to the experience of visiting a wat in Thailand.)

When I run across a new or unusual piece of Buddhist imagery at a wat in Thailand, I usually ask my friend Noom for an explanation. That can be a hit or miss proposition. Sometimes he provides a fairly detailed answer, others a rather curt and abrupt one. The latter is either due to his belief that I should already know this stuff, or that his English skills are not up to allow him to give me the whole story. Such was the case when I asked about the statue pictured above. All I got from him in reply to my query was, “Eat moon.”

Okay. That certainly explained what was happening, but didn’t do much in the way of explaining the popularity of the image or its inclusion at the wats I’d seen it at. But a cool idea in any case. I have not run across this deity as often at wats as I have at markets. It appears to be popular, at least as an amulet for some Thais. Noom’s brief answer meant turning from his religion to one of my gods, Google, for a better idea of why the moon was being eaten. And why Buddhists cared.

Rahu carving at the Banteay Srei Temple in Cambodia.

You’d think that would be a easy search offering up a quick answer. It wasn’t. And I’m pretty adept at search phrases. I ended up backtracking from a similar photo I found on Google Images, which eventually led me to the term I needed for a better search: Phra Rahu, the name of the deity, which not surprisingly is a Hindu god assimilated into Thai Buddhist belief. And damn if he’s not cool!

In Buddhism, Rahu is the mythical god of darkness, one of the krodhadevatas (terror-inspiring gods). He comes from Hindu myth and his story is that during the Samudra Manthan, Rahu drank some divine nectar, but before the nectar could pass his throat Vishnu cut off his head. Why is not important. What is is that Rahu’s head remained immortal and occasionally swallows the sun or the moon, causing eclipses. According to Thai beliefs, the only way to prevent disaster is to scare Rahu away or placate him with offerings.

To ward off bad luck associated with Rahu’s attempts to devour the moon, or sun, believers make offerings of black flowers, black joss sticks, black candles . . . black is definitely the color of Rahu. So is the number 8, as it represents all earthly things. So there are eight traditional offerings made at shrines to Rahu; each have a specific purpose:

Black grapes are for good business.
Black liqueur is for courage to risk or invest.
Black coffee is to get whatever you wish for.
Black jelly brings patience and graceful thought.
Black beans promote progress.
Black sticky rice is for wealth and love from family.
Black Thai cake brings rewards, success and good luck.
Black fermented eggs ensures successful contact or errands.

Phra Rahu is not just prayed to during eclipses, however. As the legendary master of deception, cheaters, pleasure seekers, operators in foreign lands, drug dealers, poison dealers, and those committing insincere and immoral acts, he holds sway over a lot of negative areas of human existence. Told ya he was cool. Thais make offerings to get on his good side to ward off negativity, repel bad luck, and as a form of protection. A lot of white collar workers and government officials visit shrines to Rahu to help to ward off backstabbers, gossip, and to deal with offices politics.

Phra Rahu Shrine, Wat Liab Rad Bamrung.

Phra Rahu’s image is also a popular protective amulet and sacred tattoo (sak yant). It is believed his image will change bad thing to good thing: Phra Rahu will eat all of your bad luck. These amulets and yants also offer protection from evil spirits, and bring prosperity, money, and good luck. Rahu seems to be a more popular talisman than he does in statutory form at wats.

There is a shrine to Phra Rahu in Wat Traimet near Chinatown in Bangkok. Another Phra Rahu statue is at the Chinese Junk shaped Wat Yannawa, near the Saphan Taksin sky train station. Since discovering what he is all about, when I run across his image at a wat now I’m always pleased. Noom doesn’t appear to share my enthusiasm. His personal god is Ganesha; I’m not sure if it is that he doesn’t approve of Rahu, or just that he wants my attention to be directed to where he feels it’ll do more good.

I try to keep in mind that what is myth to me is religious belief to him, but can’t hide that Rahu holds a greater attraction to me than Ganesha does. Now that Noom knows that I know who Rahu is and the offerings associated with him, whenever I order coffee – and specify black coffee – he gives me a quick look full of suspicion.

Buddhism 101: Naga, Nagas, Nagi

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Wats

Naga roof finial at Wat Rong Khun in Chiang Rai.

What looks like a dragon, smells like a dragon, and belches fire like a dragon? In Thailand, it’s a Naga, a mythical serpentine creature that has nothing to do with dragons. Dragons stem from Chinese culture. And while Thais have been infamous throughout history for knocking-off the work of others, they borrowed the Naga from India, not China. Though they didn’t let China’s fire-breathing creature go completely to waste. The Thai version, Tua Luong, started making its appearance just before the 19th century. But never caught on as well as the Naga, whose image is evident at every wat you’ll visit when touring the Kingdom.

The Thai people are known for assimilating their neighbors’ culture into their own. Cambodians seem to be the only ones who care, frequently calling foul in regard to religion, places of worship, and language. Unlike modern day pirating practices however, for culture it’s never been about copying, or stealing from the best to Thais, but rather taking a very Buddhist-like approach to the cultural invasion of other countries. Instead of going toe to toe and fighting outside influences, historically, Thais have melded those influences into their own. A peculiar tendency for such an xenophobic race.

This is the second post in my Buddhism 101 series, which has more to do with Buddhist-related images and the like that a typical touri might encounter on a visit to Thailand than it does the Buddhist religion itself. You can certainly enjoy a visit to the country and tour local wats without any knowledge about what you are seeing. Wats are pretty cool in their own right. A bit of info, however, can make your visit more rewarding. If nothing else, you can spout off your new found knowledge to your fellow travellers until they are sick of hearing you talk.

For me it’s never been a matter of a need to know as much as simple curiosity. Today’s lesson children, is a good example. I’ve run across Naga often enough, and at sometime in my journeys picked up the right word for the serpentine dragon-like images frequently used as balustrades and roof finials at Buddhist temples. Knowing the name and knowing what it identifies really is enough. Knowing the legends surrounding the Naga is icing on the cake.

Probably the most well known Naga to touri in Thailand flank the 309 step stairway to heaven at Wat Prathat Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai.

My search for enlightenment (which sounds better than idle curiosity) began simply enough: I wanted to know if ‘nagas’ was the correct plural for naga. I’d already decided I liked nagi best, even if I’d be the only one ever using that word. Turns out nagas, what you’d expect, was the proper plural and now knowing that I could summarily dismiss conventional wisdom and stick to my own term: Nagi. Even though nagi is actually the word for a female naga. Huh. Wonder how you sex a snake? Well, there goes another half a day on Google . . .

Nagi are a common image throughout India and Asia, and play an important role in SE Asian mythology. In Malaysia they are a type of dragon with many heads; in Indonesia the Naga is a wealthy underworld deity; and in Laos they are beaked water serpents. Cambodia’s beliefs trump them all. According to Khmer legend, the Nagi were a reptilian race of beings who possessed a large kingdom. The Naga King’s daughter married an Indian Brahman, and from their union sprang the Cambodian people. Cambodians still say that they are “Born from the Naga” and seven-headed naga serpents are depicted at Khmer temples such as Angkor Wat.

Nagi also play an important role in at least one Western religion, whose followers refer to themselves as gamers. Outsiders call them nerds. In the World of Warcraft, the Naga are former Highborne night elves who mutated into vengeful humanoid sea serpents. Westeners looking for a more familiar story behind the Naga may relate it to the serpent in the Garden of Eden, a Christian myth. But in Thailand Nagi are not symbols of evil but instead play the role of protector, especially in regard to Buddha.

Like all of us, they have their bad side too, but even in the Thai version of the most well known bad Naga myth, the Mahabharata, they are viewed more as part of the balance between the sky and earth, rain and sunshine. Kind of a symbiotic relationship like yin and yang; a concept, which following local tradition, they borrowed from the Chinese.

Naga are often used as balustrades on stairways leading to a wat’s most important building, as at this temple in Chiang Mai.

The Naga were an integral part of the belief system of early Thais, predominately among those living in the North and Northeast portions of the country where the influence and moods of the mighty Mekong River could mean life or death.. At one time in this area, serpent cults were as common as they still are in India today. When Brahmanism spread into the region, the traditional Phaya Naga were assimilated into the new religion. Same same when Thervada Buddhism became the predominate religion.

Old legends about Nagi became part of the new religion’s body of myth. This melding of myth can be seen today at wats; Thai folk legend holds Nagi bring earth from river bottoms to build the temple bases. Carved Nagi flank stairways of the more important buildings, symbolizing the link that leads from earth to heaven. Devout Buddhists believe the Naga leads souls to nirvana on these magic ladders.

The story of Buddha features Naga throughout his life. Starting at birth. When crown prince Siddhartha was born, a multi-headed version of the Naga caused warm water to gush forth for baby prince’s first bath.

In Buddhist lore, the Naga is also associated with the final meditation by the Buddha as he strove to reach enlightenment. When the Earth Goddess, Thorani, wrung out her wet hair to drown the demon Mara and his army of tormentors, the Naga coiled itself under the Buddha to raise him above the flood waters, spreading the hoods of its seven heads to protect him from the rain. In the northern part of Thailand where belief in the Naga is predominant, the most popular statue to be worshiped depicts Buddha sitting on serpentine coils with a multi-headed form of Naga rising behind to form a shelter for the Buddha. Achitectural details in Thailand’s wats pay homage to several other Naga myths.

Naga roof decoration on the Ubosot of Wat Chedi Luang in Chiang Mai. Note the ‘No Entrt Woman’ decoration too.

The most common, and most numerous Naga seen at a wat are the heads used as finials on temple roofs. Here they are often fanciful and usually turned up and facing away from the roof. Many are styled in flame-like motif. Some are designed to catch rain water flowing off the roof of the temple and shoot it out of the Naga’s mouth, a representation of the integral relationship between the serpentine creatures and water in Thai lore.

Nagi can live anywhere on earth but the Thai and Lao versions of the Naga generally live near or in water and their legend is a popular and sacred belief to Thai and Lao people living along the Mekong River. Many pay their respects to the river because they believe the Naga still rule it. Every year between 6 and 9 p.m. on the night of 15th day of 11th lunar month, an unusual phenomenon occurs along the Mekong River stretching over 20 kilometers between Pak-Ngeum and Pon Pisai districts in Nong Khai province that ties the myth of the Naga to the mighty Mekong. Red fireballs the size of eggs appear to rise from the river, shooting high into the nighttime sky from the deepest, Lao side of the Mekong.

In some years there are only a few; in 1999, almost 3,500 were seen. Local villagers believe that the Naga who live under the Mekong shoot the fireballs into the air to celebrate the end of Vassa, or Buddhist Lent. Both local Thais and Laotians claim this is a natural phenomenon, a reminder to them by the Naga to treat the waters with respect.

Their assertion that the Naga are responsible for the fiery display rests on an ancient Buddhist legend. During his final incarnation, the Buddha returned to earth after teaching his mother in heaven at the end of Buddhist Lent. The Nagi and his followers welcomed him back and showed their devotion by blowing fireballs into the sky.

Fanciful Naga lit up on a parade float during Chiang Mai’s Yi Peng celebration.

This year’s display, and the accompanying festivities will occur on October 11 and 12, with the main festival being held at the City Pillar Shrine at Wat Thai in the Pon Pisai district.

Even if you don’t believe in the mythology or history of the Naga you can still appreciate the beauty they bring to Thailand, and now have ample info to bore your fellow travellers with.

Buddhism 101: Hello Mudra

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Wats

Buddha images' hand gestures provide an insight into the Buddha’s life and the Buddhist religion.

Regardless of your purpose in visiting Thailand, you can not escape the country’s religious beliefs; Buddhism plays an integral part in the peoples’ daily lives and is evident where ever you go. Temples and shrines are a common sight throughout the Kingdom. It is difficult, and would be a shame, for any tourist to not visit at least one wat during their holiday. And though many appear to look alike, each is unique in its own way, providing visitors a never ending opportunity for an exceptional cultural experience when visiting Thai places of worship during their travels.

You do not need to know a thing about Buddhism to appreciate the numerous pieces of art – primarily statues, images of Buddha – found in Thailand’s wats. While every image is different and special, all convey a sense of peace and serenity that touches even those staunch in their own religious beliefs who have no knowledge of Buddhism. On the other hand, a modicum of knowledge can make your visit that much more enjoyable.

I am not a follower of Buddha, and certainly no expert on Buddhism. But I have come to know a bit about the religion, and a bit about the Buddha images most frequently seen in Thailand. I’ll share my limited knowledge with you in this series of posts, not to convert or enlighten but rather to provide a small glimpse of the religion to provide travellers a basic understanding that can add to the experience of visiting a wat in Thailand.

One of the more interesting aspects of Buddha images, to me, are the hand positions seen on Buddha statues. Known as mudras, these gestures are often symbolic and refer to some event in the life of the Buddha, or denote a special characteristic of his enlightenment. I first ran across mudras reading the Inspector Shan series of books by Eliot Pattison. The main character of his novels, veteran inspector Shan Tao Yun, spent time stripped of rank and imprisoned in a gulag for offending the Party in Beijing before being sent off to Tibet to solve various crimes. The locals close ranks, not happy with their Chinese overlords, and often communicate using mudras, secret hand signals, to avoid letting the inspector and Chinese know what they are up to. The books are beautifully written and provide a small glimpse of what it is like for Tibetans to live under communist rule. The mudras stuck in my mind and I recognized them as being the hand gestures seen on Buddha statues.

Calling the Earth to Witness is one of the most common mudras seen in Thailand.

There are six main hand positions of the Buddha in Thailand, though one is rarely seen. There are also dozens of less common ones. The most common mudra seen in the Kingdom looks like Buddha is just draping his hand over his knee. This mudra is known as the Mara Vijaya posture, or Victory over Mara, or Subduing Mara – the demon, or the Bhumisparsa Mudra. The gesture is also referred to as ‘Calling the Earth to Witness’, represented by Buddha’s right hand touching the ground in a position that symbolizes unshakable faith and resolution. It stems from an important part of the Buddha’s life, and a story is attached.

After living his early years as a wealthy royal, Siddhartha (the Buddha’s pre-enlightened name) began his search for the meaning of life. Determining that neither self indulgence nor self deprivation was the answer, he settled on the ‘Middle Way’ and ended up sitting under a bodhi tree, vowing not to move until he was enlightened. Touching his finger to the ground, he called upon the earth to bear witness to this. Eventually his friends left him.

While meditating, a demon named Mara came and tried to distract him with violence through demons, monsters, and storms, and then through temptation via the demon’s three seductive daughters. Siddhartha remained steadfast. Then in response, pointed to the earth with his hand and called the Earth Goddess, Thorani, who rose from the ground and wrung the water from her long black hair, raising a torrential flood that drowned Mara and his army of demons.

After 49 days, having outlasted Mara, Siddhartha achieved enlightenment, or Nirvana, which literally means ‘no wind,’ and frees one from the karma-based cycle of reincarnation. He was now a Buddha: ‘one who is awakened’ to reality from the dream-like illusion that is life for the rest of us.

The Dhyana Mudra depicts the Buddha meditating under the Bodhi Tree during his journey to enlightenment.

The second most common mudra is the Dhyana position and comes from the same event in Siddhartha’s life. In this mudra, Buddha’s hands are folded in his lap with palms upward with the right hand on top of the left. When this mudra is used, the Buddha is in a seated position. It depicts Siddhartha meditating under the Bodhi tree while trying to determine the cause of suffering and its cessation during his journey to enlightenment.

Double Mudra: The Abhaya position and Varada Mudra at Wat Surat in Bangkok.

The Abhaya Mudra, also called the Imparting Fearlessness position, is made with the hand raised and the palm facing outwards, fingers extended pointing upward with the wrist bent at a right angle with the forearm. The mudra is sometimes made with both hands, and in others the Abhaya Mudra is made with one hand, while another mudra is made with the other. When this gesture is used, the Buddha may be standing, sitting, or walking.

This mudra, a gesture of fearlessness and granting protection, also stems from an event in the Buddha’s life. Típó-dáduo, a rival teacher who wanted to kill Buddha, knew he would be in the town of Wángshè, and tried using archers and then a large boulder to put an end to the Buddha’s life. Both attempts failed, so he arranged that a raging elephant, known for its bad temper and ferocity, would be loosed in the Buddha’s path. Típó-dáduo had the elephant prodded and provoked and then released just as the Buddha came into sight. In a great rage the elephant charged at the Buddha, but as it neared him suddenly became very calm, and simply bowed respectfully before him. The Buddha passed without harm, not even seeming to have noticed the incident.

The Vitarka Mudra at the Phra Pathom Chedi at Nakhon Pathom

The Varada Mudra, symbolizing charity, is the gesture of bestowing blessings and is formed with the hand lowered, pointing downward with the palm facing outward. This gesture signifies offering, welcome, charity, giving, compassion and sincerity, and is nearly always shown being made with the left hand. The Varada Mudra is rarely seen without another mudra used by the right hand, typically the Abhaya mudra. No particular story is attached to this mudra; it denotes the altruistic quality of the Buddha.

The Vitarka Mudra is a gesture of Intellectual discussion and indicates communication and an explanation of Buddhist teachings. The tips of the thumb and index finger touch, forming a circle. All other fingers are extended upwards. Sometimes the middle finger and thumb touch, which is gesture of great compassion. If the thumb and ring finger touch, they express the mudra of good fortune. This mudra is mainly used for images of the Great Buddhas, and symbolizes one of the phases of Buddha’s preaching, that of teaching of the dharma. The circle formed by the thumb and the index, a complete form, having neither beginning nor end, is that of perfection; it resembles the Law of the Buddha, which is perfect and eternal. The Vitarka Mudra is usually seen on a Buddha in the sitting or standing position.

The Dharmachakra Mudra is rarely seen in Thailand.

The Dharmachakra Mudra, or Turning the Wheel of the Law in Motion, is rarely seen in Thailand. Similar to the Vitarka Mudra, the hands are generally held closer to the chest of the Buddha, palm facing outward, while the index finger and the thumb, join at the tips to form the mystic circle, touch the joined index and thumb of the left hand, whose palm is turned inward. It represents a central moment in the life of Buddha, the occasion when he preached the first sermon after his enlightenment to his former companions in the Deer Park in Sarnath.

There are numerous other mudras typically seen in Thailand, some of which I will cover in a future post. One of the wats where you can see a large number of different Buddha hand gestures is Wat Phra That Doi Suthep in Chiang Mai.