Naming the Baby

May 4, 2007

Last week we had a party to celebrate the one month birthday of the newest edition to the organization. This is the day the baby receives his name and it also marks the beginning of the end of the after birth taboos.



We forwent class in lieu of a day of cooking. We were making the traditional Burmese dish mohinga. mohinga is typically a breakfast dish. It is usually made with banana pith, fish and a lot of other things I'm not savvy of, although I can pretty much bet on MSG being a main ingredient. The soup is eaten with fresh coriander and green beans, which the diner adds to their bowl at their leisure.

To prepare we shelled copious amounts of onions and garlic and we sliced and diced buckets of coriander, banana pith and green beans. A batter of rice flour and yellow lentils was fired to a crisp as the ultimate topping for the soup.

During the actual party it rained. Thus, not many guests showed up to greet the baby boy. However, from what I gathered, the typical gathering consists mostly of the comings and goings of guests - most just stay until their bellies are warmed and full. Before they go they tie a string around the baby's hand for safety and good luck. Presents and money are also welcome contributions. The mother is still in semi-seclusion so she stays with the baby inside the hut and the people come to pay their respects to her while the party continues outside with the father acting as host.

Traditionally, the baby is not named by the parents. The naming is generally performed by a monk who takes into account the day (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, etc) the child was born to determine the appropriate name. The right name is said to help the child through life.

This baby boy has at least two names: the Thai name he was given at birth (by someone at the hospital). In this case, he was named after a movie star. He will also have at least one ethnic name (his parents are both from different ethnic groups) and perhaps a Burmese name as well. The Thai name he will use in school and another will be reserved for the household.

Splish Splash

Ah Water Festival (or Songkran as it is known here in Thailand). A time for heavy drinking, fighting and motorcycle accidents. Oh and that part about the water too. When asking many people about water festival, a smile often comes across their face. It seems like everyone loves it. They say it is so much fun and everyone has a great time. That is of course for all of those people who don't get into fights and accidents. But even they enjoy it until that fateful moment.

As to exactly what Water Festival celebrates I had a difficult time getting a straight answer. Yes it is a Buddhist holiday and yes Buddhists go to the temple and have special food and honor their elders and yes you throw water on people and have a good old jolly time, but exactly why??? What is the history of this tradition? It was like trying to pry teeth to actually get an answer to what I thought was a relatively simple question. So I decided finally that good old Google might be my best bet.

And here is what I found:

Songkran is a Thai word which means "move" or "change place" as it is the day when the sun changes its position in the zodiac. It is also known as the "Water Festival" as people believe that water will wash away bad luck.

The Songkran tradition is recognized as a valuable custom for the Thai community, society and religions. The value for family is to provide the opportunity for family members to gather in order to express their respects to the elders by pouring scented water onto the hands of their parents and grandparents and to present them gifts including making merits to dedicate the result to their ancestors. The elders in return wish the youngsters good luck and prosperity.

When I asked some of my students from Burma what the difference between Water Festival in Burma and Water Festival (they are predominantly Buddhist in Burma as well) in Thailand was they seemed to think it was a bit different. They felt that in Burma there was still a lot of religious significance left in the holiday. This is a holiday which lasts for about four days. They said in Burma people would visit a different temple on each of the four mornings while in Thailand, most people only visit the temple on one morning. It also seemed to them that Water Festival in Thailand was even a bigger party than in Burma with people starting to drink and begin merry making in the wee hours of the morning. Well all I can say is from what I saw is the people in the town where we are living know how to have a good time during water festival.

Oh yes, but what about those accidents and fights and such. That is not good is it? No it is not good and we were privilege to that as well. Weren’t we lucky!!! I have heard reports that up to 90% of the annual motorcycle accidents in Thailand happen during these four days. By day two of the festival this year we heard the death count in the country was up to 200. There were two deaths in our town by then. Laura had to visit the hospital herself (not related to the water festival) and saw a foreigner who was quite pissed that he had totaled a rented bike and had gotten injured in the process probably thanks to some kids throwing water at him while he was driving. The wet roads as a result of the water throwing, coupled with the overall state of drunkenness of the country is not exactly a great mixture for safe driving conditions. Oh let’s not forget the fighting. Laura was lucky to witness a fight involving beer bottles and screaming profanities induced by copious amounts of alcohol. And it was between two members of Casey’s organization no less but on the grounds of her organization. Oh joy!!!


Furthermore, there is the wasting of water and in the middle of the dry season. Granted I understand that it is tradition and I am all for keeping cultural traditions alive, but I cannot even imagine how much water is wasted for these four days. And in many places the water throwing starts weeks in advance. Today the tradition of water throwing has been what I would say steroid induced. People stand on the side of the road with hoses and huge 10 gallon buckets and soak all of the passing vehicles and pedestrians. Also granted that it is great fun and I participated in it for one afternoon, but four days of excessive water wasting does seem a bit excessive.

And people love water festival, you say? Yes, they certainly do! There are some not so nice things about it but it is a joyous occasion. People dancing on the street, throngs of happy children splashing each other with water, colorful festivals and parties, traditional food. It is hard to not get enraptured with the ‘merry-making.’

Unfortunately for us, we were confined to a hospital room for a majority of the festival. Luckily it was not an injury from a fight or accident but instead for something called Cellulitis that had attacked Laura’s leg probably because of a Staph infection. Also unfortunately, Laura has recently been a walking medical case and we may be our town’s hospital’s most frequent customers in the past month. However, surprisingly this has proved not be the worst situation as we have been very impressed with this local hospital. It is clean, the doctors seem like they know what they are doing and they explain what is actually happening with your condition. These are all things that often did not happen in the Philippines, even in hospitals in large cities, and this one in Thailand is in a fairly small town. So Thailand health care gets a thumbs up from us.

On the first day of the festival, Laura’s leg had yet to get nasty so we were able to enjoy a bit of the festivities. It ended up being quite a low key and relaxing day since the women at Laura’s office were not too interested in getting soaked, imbibing copious amounts of alcohol, dancing in the street or getting into accidents and fights. Instead they chose to stay at home and make traditional snacks that they make in Burma. We added what little help we could to the cooking experience and we made enough rice snacks to feed an army. We made two kinds: one sweet made of rice powder and sugar (which was alright) and one savory made of rice powder, pork, garlic chives, green onions, and tomatoes (which was delicious). Both of the rice snacks were wrapped in banana leaves and steamed to cook them (this process seems quite ubiquitous in SE Asia and I love it). The rest of the day was spent just chilling and watching the little babies run around the office.

This was a good way to start off the holiday but on the second day Laura’s leg and ankle had swollen to the quite an unbearable size and let’s just say it did not look too pretty (nor did it feel too great). We decided to head back to the hospital (the day before they had just prescribed antibiotics) and the doctor there felt that Laura should be admitted in order to give her antibiotics intravenously. So we gathered our things and headed to the hospital and settled in for a few days. Luckily after two days the swelling in Laura’s foot had gone down considerably and it felt a lot better. She was discharged and we were free to enjoy the last afternoon of Songkran.

We headed back to our places and loaded in the back of a pick-up with other folks from both of our offices. We also brought along two huge buckets of water to throw at others as we drove by. We drove through town and got absolutely soaked from the water throwers on the sides of the street and in other vehicles. It was certainly a good time although a bit chilly. Oddly enough, during the festival this year which is usually the hottest and driest time of the year, it was cloudy and there were even a few sprinkles.


After driving through town we disembarked at the nearby river where probably a hundred small bamboo huts had been set up to sit under and enjoy the river. The place was packed and people were enjoying the holiday with friends and family. The network of bamboo in the water was quite impressive and the number of people was also astounding. In the early evening we left for our next destination which was the lake and plaza in the middle of town. We waited for the procession to pass which included a number of floats with beauties from the local villages. The highlight of the parade for everyone however was the truck with a Buddha statue on it. The people would hand the people in the truck an offering of water which would be poured over the statue. The water would then be retrieved (now in a scented and colored form) from the basin below the Buddha and given back to the people that gave the offering. This water was now blessed and people sprinkled one another to offer good luck and show respect for their elders.

It was unfortunate that we were not able to be involved in more of the festivities but I do feel that we got our fill. In reality how many days of water fights can one truly handle. I enjoyed our first Water Festival even if half of it was spent in a hospital. We came away unscathed and uninjured which is more than I can say for others. After hearing so much about it, it was nice to see what Water Festival really is like and it was a nice chance to relax and join in a bit of the fun.

Baby Blues

Laura's organization is crawling with infants, literally. Only one of the members living at the house is currently sans hubby or child. Right now the totals up to 5 kids.

The latest edition arrived last week. A cute little boy born to parents who, honestly, didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of being parents. As the mother told me "I don't like babies." She also mentioned that her husband would prefer she continue school instead of raising babies (he's a keeper for sure! Especially in these parts of the woods where many men do not hold the same views). It turns out that the baby was an accident and they really weren't planning on being parents just yet.

After hearing their story it made me glad I come from a place where parents have so many options about what to do if they have not planned their pregnancy. In Thailand and in Burma, abortion is illegal, supposedly because of religious reasons. Buddhist religious reasons. If one has the money, time and passport one could travel to Singapore. Adoption in these places isn't really an option either. You can leave your baby at an orphanage, but there is little chance that it will get adopted. This is because if the child cannot be cared for by the parents then extended family are left with the burden (and/or the joy).

Along with the baby came a whole slew of traditions. It seems like the people of Burma are still very much rooted in their traditional culture, including superstitions. Because I find it interesting, I will list some, related to childbirth (and after), below:

After child birth the mother is confined to her room with the baby. She is not supposed to leave this room. She cannot do any work including cleaning, cooking or doing laundry. Someone brings all of her meals to her bedroom. To keep her from going crazy with boredom (my own opinion), people are allowed to visit her. This seclusion lasts for at least 1 month. Maybe more if the birth was a difficult one. I do not mind this practice, but it is a little troublesome knowing one of my best students is unable to attend my class, which is about 50 feet away from her room, because of this tradition.

For a month after the birth, the mother must not eat a multitude of foods from most vegetables to chicken and beef. The chicken and beef are not allowed because they will make her hurt if she eats them. Spicy food is a no go because it could cause diarrhea in the baby. Jack fruit, a type of vegetable, may lead to a lower output of breast milk. Therefore, the mother is left with little choices, which usually range from fried pork to fried fish. All things considered, I don't understand why MSG is OK for the mother, but vegetables are not. I also find it interesting that one of the few things they are allowed to eat is also one of the few things that doctors back home are telling mothers and mothers-to-be not to eat (fish).

Lastly, the mother must not bathe with water. Instead, a medicinal concoction is boiled up for her each day and she uses this to bathe.

At the end of the month, the parents hold a naming ceremony for the baby. There is also a little celebration. They say it is for the baby, but I suspect it is to celebrate the release of the mother from these rules back into the everyday life.

Little Princes

Last week we set of to a rural village with some members of Casey's organization. We were there to partake in the ordination ceremony of approximately 40 boys. The though many boys throughout Thailand are ordinated as novices each year, the elaborate celebration that takes place before the ordination is unique to this area. The ceremonies of the town and the surrounding villages are very similar to the elaborate affairs held in Burma. The ceremony we attended lasted for 3 days. We've heard that in Burma they last for a whole week.

For the first two and a half days of the ceremony the boys are treated like kings. Their parents dress them up in magnificent customs of brillant colors. They wear a crown of neon fake flowers and their parents splash on more make-up than most teenage girls wear at home (and these are boys, remember). Many of the boys were painted like a canvas with Burmese powder. The boys were not allowed to walk anywhere but instead they were carried on the shoulders of their family members. They could not even feed themselves and I saw many mothers raising spoons to her child Prince like he was two years old. There were a lot of parades around the village and singing and dancing around the monastery. They must of had the time of their lives!

Casey's organization had paid for the ordination fees of 11 of the boys so they would be taken care of in the monastery. Many of these boys had come across the border to escape the situation in Burma.


Some Background Information
As I have recently found out, Burma has the highest rate of child soldiers of any country in the world. The Burmese government "recruits" soldiers, often by going to a village and demanding the village head to find them so many soldiers for their next tour. The government is still fighting a few minority rebel groups and even the ceasefire groups are known to actively recruit children into their armies. In the rural areas of Northern Burma, there is also a lot of drug abuse. Burma is second only to Afghanistan in the production of illicit opium and it's derivatives.

We interviewed three young boys for "Kids Around the World." This is a school program of the National Peace Corps association. The goal of this program is to help teachers bring international issues into the class room. The idea premise is that elementary school children around the world are interviewed in their native language. The questions are about what they do, what they like and how they live. There are also links on information for each country the children live in.

I am very excited about this project and asked Casey's organization to help. They were able to secure interviews for three of the children they assisted. We sat down with them all garbed up and asked away. Of course they were shy.

We later found out that two of the young boys who have been in Thailand for five years because their parents were afraid they'd become child soldiers. They came to live with their "uncle" but they have grown up in the village monastery instead. In the monastery, the boys are safe from the Thai authorities who randomly raid areas for illegal immigrants. If the children were to live with their uncle, chances are they could be sent back to Burma. But, because of some obscure Thai law, anyone who is ordained and living in a monastery is exempt from being deported. Thus, the ordination ceremony and thus the NGO's involvement to ensure the safety of these children. Sadly this is a common case.

Day 1
Casey attended the first day of the celebration. He said it was a smallist event, though he did manage to rack up a large number of pictures. Mostly it was just the locals parading about the children who will soon become monks.

Day 2
We arrived early in the morning. Casey's organization was kind enough to lend us some traditional clothing. Their Thai driver got a big kick out of the Pa-O from America and kept asking up to speak in Pa-O. Sadly after a month and a half here all I could respond was "Am Den (Let's eat)!" This made him chuckle, of course.


The parade was to honor the boys. Everyone in the parade dressed up to the nines. We were the only Pa-O, there were many in Burmese and Shan style longgyis (skirts) and many people from other tribes were dressed up just to watch the parade.





Everyone in the parade carried offerings for the monastery. I always love looking into the offering baskets, half of it never maeks sense to me: the small can of condensed milk next to the small can of coconut milk which is in front of individual packets of instant hot chocolate. All things to help create healthy young novices! Casey was the photographer while I marched away with the rest of the Pa-O women. The parade was at a hellishly slow pace and lasted at least an hour though we didn't travel for more than a kilometer (perhaps a slight exaggeration on my part, but not much). During this long procession, the boys were all carried on the backs of their loved ones while others kept the sun out of their eyes with gilden umbrellas. Gongs and drums beat out traditional Shan music as the sun rose higher in the sky.

After the procession we all headed inside the monastery to present our offerings. Many of the offerings were provided by the village council, who used the ordination fee to pay for donations and food for the festival. Everyone was invited to lunch and snack while listening to the chanting and dancing that still proceeded outside. The festivities dragged on as the day heated up and soon our companions were eager to rest.



The festivities carried on deep into the night. We were lucky enough to be staying across the street from the monastery and thus were continually awakened by the drumming and chanting over the loudspeaker and irregular intervals throughout the night.


Day 3

In the morning the boys were treated once again as royalty. This was a time of picture taking and merry making. After lunch the festivities dwindled as the ceremony began. This was a solemn time for the young boys and their parents. They boys ritually thanked their parents for all they have done for them. Many of the children and their loved ones were crying. This would ceremony was the last goodbye for many of the children who would not see their parents for weeks, months or even years. This is also a symbolic goodbye because after the children enter the monastery as monks they will be the children of the monastery and no longer the children of their parents. The parents then shaved the eyebrows of their children and then handed them their novice robes. Then monks and older novices helped the children into their robes. There was a lot of chanting and an older monk held a Buddhist service. Finally there was more picture taking and then the parents left the boys to learn about the Buddha.

Chiang Mai

February 3 - 7

We had tried desperately to have our trip to Chiang Mai coincide with the Flower Festival. Chi'en in Kuching had said he might be up to get some pictures and other things we had read sounded like it was pretty cool. Of all the things we read about the Flower Festival, however, the one thing we couldn't ascertain for certain was the actual DATES of the festival. Everyone seemed to have a different story and most Thai tourist info people had no idea the festival even existed. We were exasperated and decided to just run with one flyer we had seen. So, here we were.

We arrived from Pai by cramped bus (the norm) and went directly to our hotel. Casey and I had agonized over which urban though seemingly rural hotel we should choose and since our first two choices where unavailable and/or extremely overpriced we picked what we thought would be the next best option - Karinthip Village. It was located close to the tourist center but the grounds were green and inviting. The rooms, however, we a different story all together. Apparently, the owners spent all of their money on the shell and thought that people would not want to spend time in their rooms. This was evident by the horrible paint jobs, lack of lighting and horrible views of wall. We were not impressed.

After checking in we decided to head over to the Hill tribe museum in hopes of finding out a little more about the tribes we incountered in Mae Hong Son. It was a small but informative museum out in the the middle of nowhere. I tried to write information down to post later, but i'm not sure where it is now...I will look at get it up in a bit.


The next morning, we were hoping, there would be a parade for the flower festival. We ready then asked the front destk attendant where the parade would be. Not surprisingly, they had no idea what we were talking about. Somewhere though, we found a route and decided to head in that direction. Only a few blocks from our hotel (and they still didn't know about it!) we ran smack dap in the middle of the parade. It was a huge event and there were tons of locals as well as foreign tourists all trying to snap some pictures. This made for some very annoying games of who can step in front of who the quickest in order to monopolize the best picture taking view. Ugh.


With that aside, the parade was an incredible event. By far the best parade I've seen since arrive in SE Asia. The numerous floats were reminiscent of the Rose Bowl Parade floats. They were covered in vegetable matter which included everythin from colored rice to large, red bell peppers to gorgeous orchids. Most floats also included a Thai beauty or two with hair as tall as Marge Simpson and an inch of makeup caked onto their faces. Between floats, groups where showcased. There were many ethnic groups dressed in their traditional costumes (funny, these costumes looked very different from the touristy ones we saw in Mae Hong Son) as well as high school bands. The bands were amazing! They consisted of a wide range of intruments and their songs were not just awful pop tunes. This made for an extremely pleasant listening experience and kept me wondering why Filipino bands think all they need are horrific metal xylophones and drums and why they think the Sex Bomb Girls are the only singers to replicate.

After the parade we followed the hordes down to the parade finish line. The parade ended at a small park in the corner of the old walled quarter of Chiang Mai. Once there we were able to view all of the floats, which were lined along the street. There were also beautifully crafted displays from various flower and orchid clubs. The park was filled with food stalls and walking food vendors. Many parties had rented woven mats and the grass was covered with people lounging in the shade (Thais are not as sun-loving as N. Americans are, rightly so). We stayed for a few hours, people watching and tasting the yummy treats.

One night, we went to the night market. This was also within walking distance from our hotel. Once we arrived at the market, I was surprised to see all of the usual local products...delicious native fruits, the local cuisine as well as cheap clothes and accessories. Strange, I thought, this wasn't what I had expected. Of course not! Only then did I realize that this market WAS the local night market and the touristy night market was still a couple of blocks away. When we arrived at that one, we knew right away where we were. Stalls were piled high with the same souvenirs we had seen in Mae Hong Son. At first, it was excited to go through the items, but it didn't take long for it all to start to look the same. Every once in a while, a stall would have some unique pieces on sale, but these were far and rew between and often not worth the effort of searching thriough the myriad of identical junk. There was one store, that caught all of our attention - a wood carving shop. The artist had intricately carved the most beautiful designs, much inspired by Buddhism and common Thai symbols. My favorite piece was an aquarium full of wooden turtles, fish, crabs and a gorgeous mermaid.

We continued to agonize over where to go next. We thought about Sukothai to see more great ruins, but ruins didn't seem to interest mother so much and frankly, I was beginning to think that all temples of worship were the same. There are only so many golden Buddha images one can see before they all look like cookie-cutter images. Don't get me wrong, I think the temples are gorgeous, but to the untrained eye (ie my untrained eye) the small differences in detail between one style and the next was lost. Finally, after much discussion we decided to head to the tallest mountain in Thailnd, Doi Inthanon. We thought it might be a good opportunity for birding and it would be cool enough for mom.

As sort of a last minute decission, we opted to rent a car for the drive to Doi Inthanon (why we hadn't thought of this before ie Khao Yai, I don't know). On our way to Doi Suthep, the day before our departure for Doi Inthanon, we stumbled across a car rental agency and decided, why not get the car a day early and use it to roam around Doi Suthep.

So we did. It was great! We rented an old manual four wheel drive. Casey was kind enough to drive it out of the city since both mom and I were to afraid to try driving, much less with stick in the suicidal traffic. Once safely outside of the city, we relaxed as we drove to Doi Suthep.

In case you haven't noticed, "doi" means mountain in the Northern Thai dialect. "Khao" is mountain in the central Thai dialect. We were heading the Doi Suthep to see one of the most famed monasteries of the north. It was built on the hill after an elephant carrying a relic of the Buddha died on that very spot. It was thought that the elephant would know the appropriate place for the temple and would stop (aka die) when it reached the location.


We wandered around the temple grounds, taking pictures and asorbing the peacefulness of the place. We read up on Buddhism in the little library and also received information on their meditation classes. Laura and Casey have been interested in taking a meditation class ever since they first heard about other PCV's doing so while on vacation from the Philippines. They heard many stories about what a life altering experience not speaking, eating on 2 vegetarian meals a day and meditating for hours for one week was. We thought the program at Doi Suthep was nice, it was run by donation only and you could start anytime. You may be reading more about our meditation exploits in a few months, should our plans pan out.

After battling the steep and numerous steps of the wat (ok, so maybe only Casey battles the steps while the rest of us opted for the elevator), we stopped into a small jade shop. Unbeknownst to us, this was no ordinary jade shop. Upon entering, we were provided with refreshments, a free tour and even a short video detailing the different types of jade. We also had a chance to see the master carvers at work in the workshop behind the store. Most of the jade was from Burma, which made me wonder if it was such a good idea to be supporting the Burmese jade trade. I had questions: Who harvested the jade? What were the working conditions, pay, benefits (haha, benefits)? Who owned the jade before it was sold to Thailand? I wondered this, because I wanted to know how involved the military junta was in the jade trade and if they used forced labor for its extraction...I never did find out these answers.

Since we had the use of our own personal car and driver we decided to explore Doi Suthep a little more in detail. We had heard of a few hill tribe villages in the area and so we set off. The road was windy and narrow but the scenery was breathtaking as we twisted and turned up the mountain. We arrived at a very touristy Hmong village that was more like a mini bizzare where my mother found story quilts that depicted the history of the Hmong and how they travelled from China through Laos before winding up in Thailand. We wandered through an opium garden and admired the clean, cool mountain air.

We wandered around a bit more and ended up in an extremely un-touristy hill tribe village that we found fascinating, but a little embarrased at showing up unannounced and so we drove slowly to the school and then left. On the way down the mountain we stopped at a little cafe that served fresh mountain coffee homegrown on the hillside next to the cafe.



Upon our return to Chiang Mai we headed to the host monastery of Monk Chat. This novel idea was thought up by someone to help the novices and monks improve their English while at the same time increasing the tourists knowledge of the intricacies of Buddhism. We spoke with several monks and asked them all sorts of questions. If I have time, I would visit them every week.


On one of our many wanderings through the city, we came across a large wat where many novices were having a lesson in drawing the Buddha. They were using the old images painted on the walls of the temple as a template and we couldn't resist snapping a few blurry pictures.

Land of Funerals

In Tana Toraja, nothing is higher on the social scale than attending traditional funerals. These may be the ultimate fiesta (I thought Filipinos were food crazy). In Toraja there are 3 types of funerals: one for the lower class (not much fun to attend, according to the guides because they're not as elaborate and only last for a day or two), one for the middle class, and one for the higher class (3-4 day presentation with hundreds of guests, music, chanting and food).

I'll discuss the high class funeral, because this is the funeral we attended, but first, let's discuss the odd habit of foreigners to barge into funerals uninvited to watch how the locals grieve. One of the biggest draws of Torajaland are the elaborate funerals. At these funerals, white people generally pay a guide an exorbitant amount of money to act as an interpreter for the day. The tourists usually ask to be forgiven for crashing the event with by presenting the family with packs of clove cigarettes or kilos of sugar. Then the tourists proceed to stomp around the grounds shoving cameras into the faces of the cute and dressed up while the locals try to proceed with their traditions. It's all very bizarre. And though I'm just as guilty as all the other tourists, I'm not sure that if given the chance I would do it again because I have conflicting issues on this type of "cultural" tourism. I know I don't like it when Indonesians shove camera phones in my face to snap a picture at the "strange and unusual tourist" and I expect most Indonesians feel the same about me ogling over their everyday way of life.

Having said that, there were many interesting things I learned by going to the funeral. Like I mentioned earlier, we attended the funeral of a high class woman who was in her 90s when she died. There were literally hundreds of guests, mostly distant relatives and close friends who came from all over the island (and the country) to attend the four day event. The relatives generally bring gifts of live pigs, which are slaughtered as food for the guests. If the family can afford, they buy as many carabao as possible and slaughter most of them on the 4th day, though we were lucky enough to watch a killing because they needed food for dinner. In the case of the funeral we attended, the family had SEVEN (7) carabao to be slaughtered!!!

The food is generally pig or carabao cooked for 2 hours inside a bamboo tube. The meat is so tender! In between meals, there is LOTS of tea and coffee which are served with cakes.

The Torajan people are very class oriented and everyone knows their position in society. At the funerals, those from the high class get the best seats and the best service, the middle class get to sit in a large bamboo "stadium" and the lower class are the ones preparing the food and serving the meals. I think the classes are a bit like castes since I was told that a lower class person may become rich, but they may never become high class.

It's amazing how much of the funeral culture was retained, even after the rigorous proselytizing by the Dutch. Most Torajans are Protestant, though about 15% are still animist. Yet of the 4 day funeral, only the evening of the 1st day is the pastor present. The rest consists of chanting, dancing and other traditions.

The other draw in Toraja are the boat shaped houses. The houses are shaped this way because Torajans believe that when their ancestors came from China the valley of Toraja was still filled with water and the ancestors docked their boats on the mountains and settled. Traditionally these houses were built out of wood and bamboo with grass roofs, though many people now only use the oddly shaped architecture for their rice silos and they are almost all roofed with corrigated iron. The carvings and paintings on these houses are absolutely amazing! Such a contrast from the half finished houses of the 'Pines. Each wooden panel is carved with designs of carabao, swirls or other designs which are then decorated with 4 colors: black, white, yellow and red which symbolize participation, bones and purity, gold and blood respectively.

We had planned on doing some hiking in the area to get away from the tourists, but its the end of a long dry season and the surrounding land looks parched and brown. Also Laura sprained her ankle on our last expedition and thought it better to rest. We will begin our 3 day journey to the neighboring valley with in the next few days. This area is hopefully less touristy and I hear that there are some interesting architecture there as well.