Getting to know Phitsanulok, Pt. I: Wat Yai

While perusing the endlessly amusing classroom anecdotes and the sundry pictures I’ve posted, it occurred to me that I haven’t given much wire time (what is the blog equivalent of air time?) to my own hometown. In a special TWO PART series of blog posts I seek to amend this grievous mistake.

Part I: Wat Yai

Wat Yai is the big deal in town. To be more exact, it’s the deal in town, dating back to 1357. Wat Yai, home to the “second most famous Buddha image in Thailand.” I’m sure you’ve heard of it: Phra Buddha Chinnarat? Yes, of course.

Though officially named Wat Phra Si Ratana Mahatat Woramahawihan, most everyone calls the place Wat Yai, which translates to “big temple.” It’s the heart of the town, everything else existing merely in relation, plotted on some orbit. When someone asks me where I live, I say “glai Wat Yai,” or “near the big temple.”

Indeed, I am lucky enough to live within spitting distance of the temple, sharing the very same small alley. From my little porch I can look out over the trees and spot the top of the temple tower. Every morning at six fifty, I hear the bell that calls the monks to gather, and at seven the chanting of the monks begins, keeping me company as I eat my muesli and yogurt.

The monks. That’s a great part of living next to the wat. It’s wonderful living in a Buddhist country, but the language barrier impedes my attempts to learn from the practitioners all around me. I have a million questions—about faith, about monkhood, about meditation, about what kind of food offerings the monks like best—but as I’m still mastering basic food vocabulary, I’m not up to the task of discussing the finer points of the four-fold path. However, my endless access to monks has given me an alternate way of learning: spying. Euphemistically, I suppose you could call it observation. I watch the monks. I watch them laugh amongst themselves. I watch them joke with vendors and board city buses. I even watch them (sometimes) in their apartments (which face my own building). I try not to be too invasive, but how can I ignore the gigantic Manchester United poster one of the monks has up on his wall? Or the monk seeking a moment of solitude in the alley to enjoy a cigarette? Sometimes a monk will even say “hello,” but that’s about the most contact I ever have. I swear one morning while I was waiting for the bus one monk asked me if I was a teacher at Triam Udom Suksa and I was so busy being nervous and bowing excessively that I couldn’t even compose a coherent reply.

Given my abundance of quality personal time (another euphemism?), I've taken to sitting around the wat rather than sitting in my apartment. Sometimes I aspire to meditate but mostly I just people watch. It’s neat to see the various roles the wat assumes. Wat Yai is many things: a source of local pride, fair grounds, space for a bustling herbal remedy and dried fruit market, a place for prayer, and host to the few tourists that roll up in giant air-con buses, to name a few. It is the density and substance from which local gravity radiates, holding everything together and making it comprehensible.

Here are a few pictures. This is the sort of back yard of the temple. These ruins date back to sometime in the 16th century I think? This is my favorite part of the wat:




Here are some more Buddhas, resting on a large stupa:


And...drumroll...here it is! The second most famous Buddha image in Thailand. Relish it. Appreciate the unique swooping dragons on the side of the Buddha. Be impressed (picture courtesy of wikipedia):


And our shared alley. The monks houses are on the left. The entrance to my apartment is on the right, just out of the frame.


So there it is, reader, a little bit more about my life here. Now you know what makes Phitsanulok tick. Are you ready to come visit so you can make a lotus blossom and incense offering with me? Great. See you soon! And stay tuned for part II of this thrilling series.

Yours,
R