Sacred cave in Northern Thailand
Ghost Stories and the Supernatural
It’s amazing how well you communicate after a few drinks, and yes, Mekhong does speak. What is it? It’s a local fire water meant to poison the living bejesus out of you and then leave you cursing that you’ll never touch another drop. Problem is, no party in Thailand is complete without alcohol, of any variety, including locally brewed rotgut known as ‘Lao Khao’, or rice whiskey. This is by far one of the most evil drinks ever devised, and to soften it in the local manner, it has to be mixed with a bottle or two of the local energy drink, Red Bull or any of its variants from its competitors; preferably Lipo, as it’s smoother and sweeter.
Any occasion calls for this deadly brew, a birth, a death, a wedding, someone’s luck in the lottery, a temple fair, friends you haven’t seen for more than two weeks arriving unexpectedly, or any other excuse. Needless to say, in your early to mid twenties, alcohol is part of life, and the system handles it quite well, thank you. The 25 baht it cost to buy a bottle of this Lao Khao meant that there was usually some of it available. And if you couldn’t afford to buy a bottle, you could always go to the local dram shop and buy it by the shot glass – one after breakfast, one or two for lunch, and one or two or more for dinner… Similarly, cigarettes were also sold singly, in threes, fives, or packs, meeting the needs of the populace.
The platform for scary tales: a few drinks, an audience, and night time darkness…
Headless, Trailing entrails, and Distended bellies
Dinner time was always a lively time, and if there was some sort of excuse to sit outside someone’s house in the cool evening breeze, enjoy a few drinks and some wonderful food, it wouldn’t be long before the dinner of three or four turned into a gathering of 10 or more. The children would be running around with banana leaves turned into make-believe horses, others, slightly older, gathered around an old motorcycle discussing possible ways of repairing it or turning it into a racing machine. The adults would discuss the day’s events, gossip about the neighbours or their family in another village, or reminisce about a relative recently deceased. Once the subject turned to the dead, it seemed as though some would perk up, sitting up slightly straighter, as though eagerly awaiting for someone to start telling the latest ghost story or the latest ‘visitation’ from a dead relative, friend, or whatever. The later the hour, the more urgent the stories became, and the more intimate the tales of having seen or been attacked by ghosts. There is probably no pastime in Thailand as interesting to everybody in the country as the telling of individual encounters with ghosts; ghosts of any variety, and it seems this country is truly blessed with a plethora of ghosts.
Some walk around with their heads under their arms, others just have a head with entrails hanging below them. Still others can stretch their arms at will, while still others just suck blood and eat the livers of children. That doesn’t even count the ‘Prate’ another collection of beings condemned to hell for ever for their bad behaviour during their lives. Some of these ‘Prate’ are forever climbing up a thorny tree, constantly getting their legs and bodies punctured by the thorns. Others are extremely tall with ugly faces, while still others are condemned to eat forever, their bellies distending ominously because of gluttony in their human lives. Some of the most profitable movies in Thailand have been ghost stories. One of the most popular is probably Mae Nak, the story of a woman who dies in childbirth while her husband is away in the army. When he returns from the war, and to prevent the people in the village from telling him that she is actually a ghost, Nak starts to kill the villagers. This story has been turned into a movie several times, and yet each time audiences will flock to see it. It’s funny how group psychosis works. One person starts to tell a ghost story, then another, and pretty soon the first few people go silent and turn white. Then an even more horrific ghost story is told by another, and everyone agrees that there really are ghosts. Then the entire group is terrified by a black cat that has just jumped through a thicket, and there is an abrupt silence while they all stare at each other, no one wanting to be the first to leave and go home alone; who knows what they’ll meet along the way.
A sacred Buddha image in the jungle – the scene of the occurrence
Taunt not that which you don’t understand
There is perhaps a certain level of comedy to all this, but there will invariably be someone who will turn around and say “if you don’t believe in it, that’s fine, just don’t dis it.” And I must admit that there have been occasions when I have quietly accepted something that could not be explained rationally; without comment or question – when in the middle of a forest in the high mountains of Northern Thailand we were attending a temple consecration ceremony, the afternoon had been totally wind still. When the Abbott performed the prayers, however, half-way through there was a sudden strong gust of wind which came first from the east and lasted for nearly 1 minute. Immediately this was followed by an equally strong gust from the west for an equal amount of time, before the quiet returned, and there was no more wind. Shortly after, a member of the team fell down with a moan, and for the next hour more praying and chanting ensued. Suddenly he shook his head, stood up, and said he was fine, and couldn’t recall what had happened. Having assisted and held the person throughout this period, I got up, and burped continuously for the next half hour, something which I had never, and have never since, done in my life. “It was the local shaman testing our resolve in establishing this temple” was the explanation from the monk. Whatever the reason, I am not going to question it too closely, nor am I going to chalk it up to simple superstition.
