The Ritual of the Monks

Chiang Mai, Thailand
06/02/23

Though the monks are beyond plentiful here in Chiang Mai, every time I see one, walking barefoot and gazing forward in a meditative state, I behave as if it’s a rare animal sighting. Like when you see a deer in your backyard in the city. You’re standing at the sink, washing the dishes after dinner like normal, and then you see something move, or you see the shine of his eyes. And you freeze. Maybe you whisper to your partner, “Honey! There’s a deer,” and you both creep closer to the window, like burglars in a movie, to get a closer look.

That's me every single time I see a monk here in Thailand.

The first few days here, I got a kick out of seeing them doing everyday things that we all do. The stuff that you could caption “Monks – They’re just like us!”

I saw a monk riding on the back of a motor scooter, his bare feet on the foot rests, his burgundy robe tucked up under him, his hands gripping the seat behind him.

I saw one paying for a basket full of toiletries at the cosmetics store where I, too, was filling a basket with toiletries.

Walking back to my place a few weeks ago, I managed to steal a few shots of these novice monks (pictured right), four boys who’d just gotten out of school, ordering cold drinks at the coffee shop next door.

One afternoon, while exploring a temple I especially like, I saw several teenage monks pruning and watering the shrubs when a garden hose fight broke out. One sprayed another relentlessly until finally, the victim’s robe was soaked from the waste down. He hiked it up almost to his hips and carried the wet drape as he walked back towards the living quarters with his legs a couple extra feet apart.

After having seen all of this "normal human behavior," a week or so into my time in Thailand, I saw monks engaged in a ritual that was not at all “just like us.” It was 6:30 a.m., and I was on the little dead-end street of food stalls where I get my coffee every morning. I was a little later than usual (yes, thanks to the rooster outside my window, who starts up at 4:30am, and the lingering jet lag, I am a very early riser here in Thailand – early even for me!), which may explain why I hadn’t witnessed this ritual before.

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Two young monks, probably teenagers, came down the street towards the food stalls, each carrying a large empty silver bowl. Like the other monks I'd seen, they looked forward intently and not all around them as they walked. They went stall to stall and waited until someone emerged with food and placed it in one of the bowls. When those were full, the food went into the cloth bags they carried on their shoulders. At some of the stalls, the food vendor knelt at the feet of the monks, who chanted over the food for a moment and then moved on to the next stall. I stood and watched for a few minutes as they repeated this process.

Heading back to my place, I turned back onto the main road, where I saw several pairs of young monks making rounds with empty silver bowls.

When I got back inside, I Googled and found that Buddhist monks in Thailand and much of Southeast Asia only eat what is given to them. They can’t engage in the labor of growing or preparing food. Alms gathering allows for this. It also aligns with their practice of not having any possessions. And it allows laypeople the opportunity to improve their karma – a practice called “making merit.”

Now, nearly four weeks into my stint here, the alms-gathering monks are a part of the landscape on my morning walk, and I am a little less prone to act like I’ve seen a unicorn when I pass one. I’ve also come to see that not all the monks are stoics who stare straight ahead when they pass another person on the street.

Some break the fourth wall and let me in – the thing that I relish the most about foreign travel. When I nod at them with a small smile, they nod back. They respond sawasdee khap (how a man say’s hello) to my sawasdee kha. And one morning, during his alms gathering with a much older monk, a little boy monk – he couldn’t have been more than 8 years old – caught my eye and grinned at me all the way down the block. He turned his head as far as he could to keep me in his sight. And I held his gaze with my own smiling eyes for as long as we were able.