Adjusting to a new job and a new city and a new language occasionally takes its toll, and some days end in tears. That was Friday. But today is Sunday, and my culture shock schizophrenia has brought a sunny mood to match the weather and festive spirit in Vientiane this weekend.
The That Luang Festival celebrates the most important monument in Laos – Pha That Luang. Its name translates to “World-Precious Sacred Stupa,” but it’s generally known as the Golden Stupa among local expats. For the Laos people, it represents sovereignty, spirituality and national pride. The stupa was built in the era of Lan Xan, the Kingdom of a Million Elephants, in the mid-16th century when King Setthathirat moved the Lao capital from Luang Prabang to Vientiane.
Last night, we visited Wat Si Muang, where locals turned out in their finest clothes for the “wax castle procession.”
The wax castle is actually an arrangement of banana leaves and wax discs that resemble yellow flowers. People attach paper money and glittery decorations before presenting it at the temple. We saw small arrangements that easily fit in one hand, as well as massive multi-tiered displays carried on a litter by two or more men. Stalls selling the wax offerings lined the streets around the temple. Many people bought the unadorned models and added their own cash and glitz, while others created their displays from scratch, building a base from bamboo or styrofoam and mixing wax and honey to sculpt the flowers. The ubiquitous banana leaf-and-marigold arrangements sold every day near local temples were also a popular choice.
Inside the temple grounds, a xylophone band on an elevated platform provided music for the trips around the temple, and people walked with their families, village organizations or business colleagues. Here’s a little video of the xylophone guys:
After three loops around the temple, groups carried their offerings into the building and left them at the altar. Soon the temple was filled with wall-to-wall wax castles. Through the back door, we watched monks dismantling the displays and collecting the money. Here’s a little video of the procession:
The mood was light and festive with lots of singing and cheering. Occasionally, monks chanted Buddhist prayers over the loudspeaker. Children proudly carried small arrangements, candles or banners.
Suddenly, in the midst of the Buddhist celebration, a bomb went off. Well, I thought it was a bomb. It turns out Lao fireworks are even scarier than the ones in China. Some poor guy had the job of lighting a very short fuse of an explosive that was packed into a bamboo tube, and he did this over and over in various locations around the temple. I hope he survived.
Each time an explosive detonated, the crowd scattered and ducked behind trees for protection while watching the firestorm rain down on the temple. You never knew where the next bomb would be; sometimes it was right in the middle of a path. Freaky!
Finally, the fireworks ended and the crowd thinned.
Here are some photos from this spectacular experience:
Then it was time for a little Western-style revelry. Tony and I headed to an open-air pub owned by one the VIS teachers, where another teacher was performing with his 10-member funk band. I met up with some girlfriends, so Tony was free to go home, and we danced for hours under a hazy night sky.
Wow! Why the fireworks? Same as China – to ward off evil spirits? From the sounds of it, they ward off everyone! I’m glad you ended the night dancing with friends. :o)