Everybody Loy Kratong!

Loy Kratong-ing: the light festival in Chiang Mai (Source)

This weekend was Loy Kratong ลอยกระทง, the annual Thai lantern festival held on the full moon in November. In cities and towns across Thailand, huge paper lanterns are set off into the night air, along with firecrackers and sparklers. People also assemble and decorate small floating rafts (about 5-6 inches in diameter) from banana tree trunks, leaves, flowers... and sometimes colored ice cream cones and sliced white bread (this is Thailand, after all). Incense sticks and candles are placed in the center of the raft floats, then sent down the river, hundreds at a time. (Loi means "to float" in Thai, and kratong is the name of the rafts).

Sending kratongs down the river: a time to forgive and forget.

I've been doing some research on exactly what the meaning of the lanterns and rafts is, and there are a few different explanations. Basically, sending off lanterns into the sky or down the river is supposed to be like sending off one's bad luck or bad past experiences. Letting go of the rafts and the lanterns is symbolic of letting go of one's grudges, anger, and jealousies with the hope of starting afresh and turning over a new leaf in life. Some people apparently even cut their fingernails or hair and add them to the raft, to symbolize getting rid of the bad parts of one's self. Others say releasing Loy Kratong lanterns is supposed to bring good luck, and that the practice originated as a way to honor and thank the ancient River Goddess.

In class this week, I noticed the 6/1 students were reading an assigned book in English that compared Loy Kratong to the American "festival" of Thanksgiving. Although the two holidays obviously have no connection in origin, there are indeed some interesting similarities. Both Loy Kratong and Thanksgiving are held in November, but not on a set date (instead, the full moon or the last Thursday of the month). Both involve giving thanks: Thais give a shoutout to the River Goddess or to Buddha with their candle floats, or simply feel gratitude for shedding a bad past, while Americans give thanks for whatever it is they are grateful for in their lives. Both holidays are held at the end of the calendar year, and in their respective ways allow people to reflect on the past 12 months and prepare for a fresh start.

Wear your helmet on Loy Kratong.

Friday kicked off Loy Kratong, and our whole school marched to the river in the morning to send off lanterns. Every kid brought, bought, or made their own kratong float. Creepy ol' Director Sukda began the riverside ceremony by lighting an enormous paper lantern. He let go a little early, and the flaming lantern proceeded to drift horizontally instead of vertically, floating right into a pile of 4th graders and almost lighting little Tart on fire. After the janitor had plowed through the crowd to reset the lantern and saved the day, all the students and teachers lined up at the river and let their kratong go on the water.

Saturday night, after some Christmas shopping at the Hmong night market, Emily and I decided we'd celebrate Loy Kratong our own way with a mini Nan "pub crawl." We went to not one but TWO restaurant bars and had a beer at each. At midnight, we decided to really go crazy and head over to the Fifth Night Club - mostly because we were hankering for the overpriced and delicious popcorn they sell at the front door. 

It's hard to explain exactly how, but the night took a few big turns, and ended with Emily and I at a stranger's apartment eating a 5 a.m. feast with the entire Thai staff of the Fifth, including: Tee, a baby-faced male singer at the club, who has impeccable fashion sense and a huge crush on Emily; Puu, the 34-year-old club manager, who in retrospect I'm fairly sure is a lesbian - and possibly thinks I am too; Pi Pong, the bassist who only knows how to say "I love you" in English, and liked to use it every time he refilled the ice in my glass; Nong, another band mate who had a long mullet-ish haircut and was wearing linen pants, but somehow still pulled off the large "THUG LIFE" tattoo on his forearm; and Som, also a singer, who was celebrating her 22nd birthday that night and was the one to invite us over to her apartment "to eat food" as the club was closing. Naturally, we said yes.

Now, in America, late-night munchies usually lead to a Jack-in-the-Box drive-thru window. In Thailand, they involve 1) a trip to the talat (outdoor food market, open and in full swing even in the wee hours of morning), 2) buying a full spread of fresh fish, clams, noodles, veggies and spices, 3) bringing it home to prepare on banana leaves and cook outside in a portable hotpot, and 4) eating with friends while sitting cross-legged on grass mats until you're positively eem lao (full). By the end of the meal, Emily and I were indeed eem lao, and finally, after exchanging phone numbers with literally everyone in the group, we biked ourselves home at sunrise. 

Last night (Sunday) was the full moon and official Loy Kratong night. Everybody in Nan - babies, teenagers, mothers, fathers, grandmothers, tourists - gathered at the river to send lanterns up into the sky and float kratong down the river. Fireworks and sparklers were going off in every direction (again: safety more of a light suggestion than a rule of thumb here... We saw more than a few paper lanterns accidently go up in flames, and another few get caught midair by electrical power lines. You just kinda cross your fingers and hope for the best). 

All night long, the sky and the whole Nan River were filled with glowing candle light. Hey, if I can't have a real Thanksgiving this week - Loy Kratong made a mighty fine substitute holiday.