Rush, Yet Again
November 7th, 2011, 08:37
Many, many, many years ago, when I first started lurking on this board, along with the blood stained sand there were frequent trip report posts, threads about visits to various areas around Thailand and SE Asia, and personal stories from visitors and residents alike. I miss those. They were enjoyable to read and often provided good information for things to do and places to see.
The board seems to be going through a transition right now and IтАЩd love to see those kind of posts once again. So rather than just bitch about it, I thought IтАЩd share one of my тАШI Fell In Love With A Bar BoyтАЩ tales here that I havenтАЩt posted on my blog in hopes that it may nudge others toward sharing some of their stories too.
The setting is Laos, so perhaps this post belongs on the SE Asia Forum, but I really think the story is more about Thailand. IтАЩll post it here and let Da Boss or jinks make that call:
I Fell In Love With A Bar Boy: Long Live The King
[attachment=4:3bv7gh95]the Haw Pha Bang.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
тАЬDat Bullshit.тАЭ
Noom - my bar boy friend and current love of my life - wasnтАЩt a happy camper. But then he wasnтАЩt calling me on the veracity of the comment IтАЩd just made either. His concerns were deeper. His problem was with the stupidity of the Lao people for killing off their King and Queen. The very idea, to a Thai, was unthinkable. At best. And worthy of a bit of payback genocide, at the very least.
We were touring the National Museum in Luang Prabang and had just finished going through the Haw Kham, the Royal Palace and former residence of the Lao Royal Family. Before we entered the building Noom had a long talk with the Pha Bang, the 1st century gold Buddha from Sri Lanka displayed there from which the town derives its name. The rest of our tour of the building hadnтАЩt taken long. There wasnтАЩt a lot to see. A few weapons were of mild interest, but safely tucked away behind glass meant they couldnтАЩt be touched. So NoomтАЩs attention waned quickly even on those.
The last room contained gifts sent to the Lao royal family from various countries. The display of shiny baubles caught NoomтАЩs eye. He carefully read each descriptive card, judging the worth of what each country had sent. In his opinion, Thailand had been the most generous. Go figure. IтАЩd like to have defended the honor of my country, but amidst the intricately carved ivory, beautifully crafted silver, and jewel laden boxes, the best the U.S. could do was a small model of the Apollo Lunar Module. Made out of cardboard. I have a strong feeling Nixon had something to do with that. Noom was considerate in not mentioning AmericaтАЩs paucity of generosity.
[attachment=3:3bv7gh95]Luang Prabang National Museum.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
тАЬLike White House,тАЭ Noom explained to me - just in case IтАЩd missed the purpose of the building weтАЩd just been through - as we walked out to retrieve our shoes and cameras from the lockers provided for mandatory storage of all personal items. The displays may not have quite measured up to world class standards, but they had the rules of top-notch museums down pat. Though I think the ban on photography had less to do with protecting the artifacts and more to do with a concern that future visitors whoтАЩd seen proof of the sparsity of materials on display might decide to pass on touring the place. And pass on forking out the 30,000 kip to do so.
I considered mentioning that it was also just like the Grand Palace in Bangkok, but then that really isnтАЩt the KingтАЩs home any longer - even before he took up residence in the hospital - and comparing the brick and mortar abode that was once home to LaosтАЩ king with the spectre of the Grand Palace really was a case of apples and oranges. Not to mention such an association would have pissed Noom off. But his mind tracked to a similar comparison.
тАЬWhere King stay now?тАЭ Noom asked, assuming as usual IтАЩd have the answer.
Unfortunately, I did.
тАЬThey killed the King and Queen,тАЭ I told him, not thinking just how poorly that fact would go over with a Thai.
тАЬWhat!тАЭ he exclaimed, thinking perhaps I wasnтАЩt serious and just razzing him as I frequently do.
Oooops. But too late to take that bit of news back, so I explained, тАЬBack in the late 70s, when the Pathet Lao took over, they sent the King, Queen, and Crown Prince to re-education camps and killed them.тАЭ
Noom stared at me for a minute, waiting for me to laugh and prove it was a joke. I shook my head to signal that it wasnтАЩt. And hoped he wouldnтАЩt follow up by asking why theyтАЩd killed off their royalty. That was an explanation I really couldnтАЩt provide. At least not substantially. But then I canтАЩt explain the stupid things my country does either. Like electing Bush. Either time.
[attachment=2:3bv7gh95]Mount Phousi stairs.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
WeтАЩd already toured the small gilded wat on the grounds, the Haw Pha Bang, waiting for the handful of other tourists to leave so we could climb up the roped off stairs of the repository of the paladin of the city for a photo op. There was still one more building to see, the Conference Hall, which houses a never ending change of modern displays about Luang Prabang, Laos, and the Laotian People. But Noom had had enough. The death of the royals, even though thatтАЩd occurred 30 years earlier, had upset him greatly. We headed over to a near-by wat instead so he could discuss the matter with the Buddha.
That conversation seemed to do the trick and soon all was good in NoomтАЩs world again. We visited a few more wats, all of which involved scaling steep sets of stairs, took a break for a late lunch, and then headed up the almost 1,000 stairs to the top of Mount Phousi.. And another temple, albeit a small one. The real purpose for our climb was to watch the sun set over the sleepy provincial town. ItтАЩs what tourists do in Luang Prabang. Though most are smart enough to head back down the unlit stairs before dark.
Neither of us should really be allowed out without supervision. YouтАЩd think between the two of us, at least half a brain would be represented. Instead it works the other way and common sense takes a holiday of its own. So we were the last to head downward and by then it was pitch black. Which made for a precarious and tricky passage back to Sisavangvong Road. Reaching the small promenade built atop the retaining wall at street level, we stopped to congratulate ourselves and to admire the well-lit street filled with red topped canopies under which night market vendors took short naps while trying to make a few kip off unsuspecting tourists ready to hand over their hard earned cash for worthless trinkets made in Thailand and Vietnam. Bathed in a golden light behind the tents, the Royal Palace MuseumтАЩs wat rose into the nightтАЩs sky. A good photo op if there ever was one. We both started snapping shots.
[attachment=1:3bv7gh95]Mount Phousi sunset.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
NoomтАЩs adequate yet limited English has settled on the word тАШpowerтАЩ to cover the spiritual strength of Buddhist shrines, temples, and statues. ItтАЩs a very real force in NoomтАЩs world. When we hit a shrine or temple that has power, he has a physical reaction. The hair on his arms stands up. The smoother areas of his arms get chicken skin. If I donтАЩt notice, heтАЩll point it out. Just so I know IтАЩm in the presence of a powerful piece of Buddhist imagery. HeтАЩs also into instant gratification. So after shooting a few photos, he always stops to review his work. And this time he let out a surprised, тАЬOh!тАЭ
Most, but not all of his photos of the wat had eerie spherical shadows in the sky surrounding the temple. I checked to see if they were reflections from street lights, but their placement was off. Plus, they moved from one picture to the next. And where one shot had only one or two of the apparitions, another had more than a dozen. And yeah, I know what they were. I think.
But so did Noom.
He picked out the photo that held the most spots. This one also had two small unexplainable bright lights in it. And he quickly identified them for me. The largest moon-like sphere was the spirit of the King. The much smaller but quite bright light below that was the QueenтАЩs spirit. And the slightly less bright light off to the side was the spirit of the Prince. Even in death they still were in residence at the palace and watching over the Lao people.
[attachment=0:3bv7gh95]The Lao Royal Family.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
In his second тАШbestтАЩ shot, the one IтАЩm sharing with you here, the King had moved to the side of the wat, the QueenтАЩs bright light had settled near the templeтАЩs roof, and the Prince had transformed into one of the shadowy spheres, hovering midpoint of the Haw Pha Bang.
One manтАЩs religion is another manтАЩs myth. Faith and superstition are easily confused. Our personal belief systems, at their most basic, explain the unexplainable, acknowledge a greater power, and feed the needs of our souls. NoomтАЩs soul had been troubled by the idea that a people would kill their king; an unthinkable event for a Thai. The unusual results of his photography efforts and his belief system had resolved that concern. And I was afforded a glimpse into his extraordinary world once again.
The board seems to be going through a transition right now and IтАЩd love to see those kind of posts once again. So rather than just bitch about it, I thought IтАЩd share one of my тАШI Fell In Love With A Bar BoyтАЩ tales here that I havenтАЩt posted on my blog in hopes that it may nudge others toward sharing some of their stories too.
The setting is Laos, so perhaps this post belongs on the SE Asia Forum, but I really think the story is more about Thailand. IтАЩll post it here and let Da Boss or jinks make that call:
I Fell In Love With A Bar Boy: Long Live The King
[attachment=4:3bv7gh95]the Haw Pha Bang.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
тАЬDat Bullshit.тАЭ
Noom - my bar boy friend and current love of my life - wasnтАЩt a happy camper. But then he wasnтАЩt calling me on the veracity of the comment IтАЩd just made either. His concerns were deeper. His problem was with the stupidity of the Lao people for killing off their King and Queen. The very idea, to a Thai, was unthinkable. At best. And worthy of a bit of payback genocide, at the very least.
We were touring the National Museum in Luang Prabang and had just finished going through the Haw Kham, the Royal Palace and former residence of the Lao Royal Family. Before we entered the building Noom had a long talk with the Pha Bang, the 1st century gold Buddha from Sri Lanka displayed there from which the town derives its name. The rest of our tour of the building hadnтАЩt taken long. There wasnтАЩt a lot to see. A few weapons were of mild interest, but safely tucked away behind glass meant they couldnтАЩt be touched. So NoomтАЩs attention waned quickly even on those.
The last room contained gifts sent to the Lao royal family from various countries. The display of shiny baubles caught NoomтАЩs eye. He carefully read each descriptive card, judging the worth of what each country had sent. In his opinion, Thailand had been the most generous. Go figure. IтАЩd like to have defended the honor of my country, but amidst the intricately carved ivory, beautifully crafted silver, and jewel laden boxes, the best the U.S. could do was a small model of the Apollo Lunar Module. Made out of cardboard. I have a strong feeling Nixon had something to do with that. Noom was considerate in not mentioning AmericaтАЩs paucity of generosity.
[attachment=3:3bv7gh95]Luang Prabang National Museum.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
тАЬLike White House,тАЭ Noom explained to me - just in case IтАЩd missed the purpose of the building weтАЩd just been through - as we walked out to retrieve our shoes and cameras from the lockers provided for mandatory storage of all personal items. The displays may not have quite measured up to world class standards, but they had the rules of top-notch museums down pat. Though I think the ban on photography had less to do with protecting the artifacts and more to do with a concern that future visitors whoтАЩd seen proof of the sparsity of materials on display might decide to pass on touring the place. And pass on forking out the 30,000 kip to do so.
I considered mentioning that it was also just like the Grand Palace in Bangkok, but then that really isnтАЩt the KingтАЩs home any longer - even before he took up residence in the hospital - and comparing the brick and mortar abode that was once home to LaosтАЩ king with the spectre of the Grand Palace really was a case of apples and oranges. Not to mention such an association would have pissed Noom off. But his mind tracked to a similar comparison.
тАЬWhere King stay now?тАЭ Noom asked, assuming as usual IтАЩd have the answer.
Unfortunately, I did.
тАЬThey killed the King and Queen,тАЭ I told him, not thinking just how poorly that fact would go over with a Thai.
тАЬWhat!тАЭ he exclaimed, thinking perhaps I wasnтАЩt serious and just razzing him as I frequently do.
Oooops. But too late to take that bit of news back, so I explained, тАЬBack in the late 70s, when the Pathet Lao took over, they sent the King, Queen, and Crown Prince to re-education camps and killed them.тАЭ
Noom stared at me for a minute, waiting for me to laugh and prove it was a joke. I shook my head to signal that it wasnтАЩt. And hoped he wouldnтАЩt follow up by asking why theyтАЩd killed off their royalty. That was an explanation I really couldnтАЩt provide. At least not substantially. But then I canтАЩt explain the stupid things my country does either. Like electing Bush. Either time.
[attachment=2:3bv7gh95]Mount Phousi stairs.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
WeтАЩd already toured the small gilded wat on the grounds, the Haw Pha Bang, waiting for the handful of other tourists to leave so we could climb up the roped off stairs of the repository of the paladin of the city for a photo op. There was still one more building to see, the Conference Hall, which houses a never ending change of modern displays about Luang Prabang, Laos, and the Laotian People. But Noom had had enough. The death of the royals, even though thatтАЩd occurred 30 years earlier, had upset him greatly. We headed over to a near-by wat instead so he could discuss the matter with the Buddha.
That conversation seemed to do the trick and soon all was good in NoomтАЩs world again. We visited a few more wats, all of which involved scaling steep sets of stairs, took a break for a late lunch, and then headed up the almost 1,000 stairs to the top of Mount Phousi.. And another temple, albeit a small one. The real purpose for our climb was to watch the sun set over the sleepy provincial town. ItтАЩs what tourists do in Luang Prabang. Though most are smart enough to head back down the unlit stairs before dark.
Neither of us should really be allowed out without supervision. YouтАЩd think between the two of us, at least half a brain would be represented. Instead it works the other way and common sense takes a holiday of its own. So we were the last to head downward and by then it was pitch black. Which made for a precarious and tricky passage back to Sisavangvong Road. Reaching the small promenade built atop the retaining wall at street level, we stopped to congratulate ourselves and to admire the well-lit street filled with red topped canopies under which night market vendors took short naps while trying to make a few kip off unsuspecting tourists ready to hand over their hard earned cash for worthless trinkets made in Thailand and Vietnam. Bathed in a golden light behind the tents, the Royal Palace MuseumтАЩs wat rose into the nightтАЩs sky. A good photo op if there ever was one. We both started snapping shots.
[attachment=1:3bv7gh95]Mount Phousi sunset.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
NoomтАЩs adequate yet limited English has settled on the word тАШpowerтАЩ to cover the spiritual strength of Buddhist shrines, temples, and statues. ItтАЩs a very real force in NoomтАЩs world. When we hit a shrine or temple that has power, he has a physical reaction. The hair on his arms stands up. The smoother areas of his arms get chicken skin. If I donтАЩt notice, heтАЩll point it out. Just so I know IтАЩm in the presence of a powerful piece of Buddhist imagery. HeтАЩs also into instant gratification. So after shooting a few photos, he always stops to review his work. And this time he let out a surprised, тАЬOh!тАЭ
Most, but not all of his photos of the wat had eerie spherical shadows in the sky surrounding the temple. I checked to see if they were reflections from street lights, but their placement was off. Plus, they moved from one picture to the next. And where one shot had only one or two of the apparitions, another had more than a dozen. And yeah, I know what they were. I think.
But so did Noom.
He picked out the photo that held the most spots. This one also had two small unexplainable bright lights in it. And he quickly identified them for me. The largest moon-like sphere was the spirit of the King. The much smaller but quite bright light below that was the QueenтАЩs spirit. And the slightly less bright light off to the side was the spirit of the Prince. Even in death they still were in residence at the palace and watching over the Lao people.
[attachment=0:3bv7gh95]The Lao Royal Family.JPG[/attachment:3bv7gh95]
In his second тАШbestтАЩ shot, the one IтАЩm sharing with you here, the King had moved to the side of the wat, the QueenтАЩs bright light had settled near the templeтАЩs roof, and the Prince had transformed into one of the shadowy spheres, hovering midpoint of the Haw Pha Bang.
One manтАЩs religion is another manтАЩs myth. Faith and superstition are easily confused. Our personal belief systems, at their most basic, explain the unexplainable, acknowledge a greater power, and feed the needs of our souls. NoomтАЩs soul had been troubled by the idea that a people would kill their king; an unthinkable event for a Thai. The unusual results of his photography efforts and his belief system had resolved that concern. And I was afforded a glimpse into his extraordinary world once again.