Getting to know Phitsanulok, Pt. II: the city of many festivals

You have likely already heard about Thailand's notorious full moon party, but I think that you might be unaware of another Thai paradise for party lovers: Phitsanulok. We don't just party once a month; we party all month long.

This town can throw a festival like no other. There's been a festival more or less since my arrival. Skeptical? First was Loy Krathong in November, followed by bike week in early December, followed by the international food festival of late December, followed by the King Naresuan festival of early January, and the famous Wat Yai festival of late January, followed immediately by the orchid festival of early February and then the Chinese new year festivities of mid February. As far as I can tell, late February is experiencing a freakish lull in festival action.

Each festival is different--the orchid festival had an unimaginable amount of orchids, the Wat Yai festival had an official fruit that was oblong and brown and absolutely everywhere, the King Naresuan festival had great fireworks--but there are also a lot of commonalities. Mostly I think this is because a fair portion of the economy of Phitsanulok is constituted by vendors who move from festival to festival. I'm starting to recognize them: the woman who sells the old timey photographs of Phitsanulok, the woman who sells the long skirts that won't bargain cheap enough for my liking, the guy who sells actual kitchen sinks.

That's another remarkable aspect of the festivals; you'd be amazed by the breadth of product available. Power tools to teak wood beds to sticky rice to squirrels. In one day, a whole street of the town will be transformed into a combination outdoor carnival, cabaret, dollar store, and Home Depot. A typical festival will throb for anywhere from three to ten days, pulsing with people, music, lights, smoke and smells. Families, shrieking children, deeply wrinkled elderly, self-aware teens with lip gloss, young couples: all will swarm around the many stalls and stages, eating, laughing, watching, bargaining. And then, as quickly as it arrived, the entire commotion will fold up and disappear, to reappear in slightly altered form a few days later.

I haven't done proper photodocumentation of the spectacles, but here's a shot of our decorations for Chinese New year. The town, like much of Thailand, has a fairly sizable population with Chinese heritage, and also our lady Mayor's husband is Chinese.


I'm not sure if I'll make it to the "biggest party in the Thailand," but I bet if I do, I'll find that they have considerably less excellent prices on extension cords. Phitsanulok, where the festival never ends. I think I should contact the Tourist Authority here to see if they want me to write any copy for them. Who knows, maybe they're paying me to make these blog entries?

Enjoying city life,
Rebecca

Loy, Loy Krathong

I am in the midst of my second week of teaching, and I continue to flounder in a state of uncertainty about how and what to teach. The kids are so very sweet, but I am incessantly confusing them with ill-conceived and overly optimistic lesson plans. In carrying out yesterday’s lesson plan, I never even reached the “game with past perfect” activity because I couldn’t manage to adequately execute “make students fill in seating chart.”

So instead of regaling you with more tales of incompetence, let me and tell you about this lovely festival that coincided with my arrival in town: Loy Krathong.

Loy Krathong is an annual apology to the river, a making of amends for the usual take, take, taking of resources and pollution of the rest of the year. For Phitsanulok, this means apologizing to the Nan River, which cuts through the middle of town and serves as a hub of commercial and social activity. The very day I arrived, the whole town was busying itself in preparations for the night’s festivities. The area of the town along the river was transformed into a carnival of food, lights, theatre, and krathong vendors.

The Nan:



First among the many traditions I was exposed to, the parade:





For an hour and half, we watched as a mélange of high school bands, groups of small, costumed children, and countless neon floats bearing beautiful Thai women processed past us, moving in a streaming dance with the surrounding traffic (not redirected for the occasion).

As we watched the parade, the evening air began to fill with floating lanterns, delicate flaming lights borne up into the night. At first tens and then hundreds drifted slowly in the dark sky. I tried fruitlessly to take pictures to show you, dear reader, because I wanted you to see how pretty it was, but really there is no way to share the beauty of all of those lanterns suspended above our heads or convey the magic of their quiet and slow rising into the inky air.

A lantern lighting:





(I didn't take that second picture)

After a delicious dinner of street food and fresh ice cream (homemade with coconut milk), we readied to float our very own “krathongs.” We found our school’s energy club industriously selling krathongs as a fundraiser, and painstakingly selected the perfect ones. After hiking down the steep banks, we lit our krathongs and with a quiet prayer and a wish, released them onto the river. Here’s mine:



And P’Maew, one of my wonderful co-teachers, floating her krathong:



Finally, totally beat, my host teachers returned me to my little apartment nearby the river.

So what do you think? It’s pretty, right? In terms of environmental impact, Loy Krathong might be a touch of a problematic holiday, but at least most of the waste is biodegradable, which is a lot more than can be said for Christmas decorations.

Oh, I almost forgot, my favorite part, the Loy Krathong song! Take a listen.

Next time I plan to show you pictures of my house! It is my motivation to finish decorating. And maybe I’ll even write a little about my daily life here? Until then, farewell dear reader.

Yours,
Rebecca