Tag Archives: monk

4 p.m. in Luang Prabang, Laos

I’d read about this somewhere, that at 4 p.m. monks in Luang Prabang gather at the many wat and drum. A few days ago, while chillin’ in my room, I heard some drumming. In less time than it takes to put on shoes in other parts of the world, I’d left my room, walked around the corner, and was watching them drum (albeit behind the vines that you see are hanging down from the little gazebo).

Enjoy!

The closing of the 15-day festival which began while I was still at FLO . . .

Hello Everyone,

When you visit Luang Prabang, you’ll most likely want to get up early one morning to give the monks sticky rice. I’d read and heard about it, and then decided that I too wanted to participate.

This morning ended up being an auspicious day, it was the closing of the festival which began while I was still in Cambodia and at FLO; it was why I got to go to the *pagoda (temple) with many of the FLO students on my last day. Yes, I haven’t told you about that yet (nor properly thanked all of you who gave $s for taking some of the FLO kids out to dinner! That will come; I promise. In the meantime, here’s a simple, “Thank you; the kids were soooo appreciative!”) I have many photos of that most wonderful experience (both).

But for now, it’s Tuesday morning, September 27th, and I just sat outside with many other people and one-by-one handed the monks sticky rice and a cake (there were 3 separate groups of monks, about 60-70 people all together, of all ages). There was one other guest from the hotel who also participated (a cute, young Japanese lady, a nurse who lives in Tokyo, she said).

Here’s a shot to give you an idea of what it was like . . .

Best wishes for a beautiful Tuesday, September 27th . . . wherever, whenever, and however you may be.

With warm aloha,

-sj

*the word of choice in Cambodia, but in Laos it’s vat (wat), the nice 22-year old lady I met yesterday while riding the slow boat up the Mekong told me this. (She’s lived in Luang Prabang for one year and was taking her parents on a tour; they’re visiting for 3-days. She later told me that her brother, who had come north to live with her and “watch over her,” had died in April during the water festival. “They do not smile for many months,” she said as she explained that she wanted to bring them a little happiness . . . )