The Three Krubas of Li

 

                                                         by Jim Goodman

 

       In its previous incarnation as Haripunchi, Lamphun was the first city established in Northern Thailand, way back in the 7^th century.  It was allegedly planned by the hermit Wasuthep, who adopted and raised a Mon girl, from a nearby village, after rescuing her from  an eagle's grasp, then when she reached puberty sent her downriver to be trained for her future role at the Mon royal court at Lawo, today’s Lopburi.  When her boat arrived the royal family considered this something auspicious and took her into the palace as a member of their own family.

       Wasuthep had also taught her martial arts and the new princess proved her value as an asset by leading Lawo’s armies in victorious battles with rival Mon states.  After a few years she answered Wasuthep’s summons and left Lawo to return upriver to take charge of the new city as Queen Chamadevi of Haripunchai.  She subdued the indigenous Lawa tribe, introduced and spread Buddhism in the area, expanded the realm’s territory and eventually abdicated in favor of her elder twin son and retired.  After her death Chamadevi remained an indelible part of the people’s memory and regard and her cult continues down to the present, with a big park in Lamphun honoring her memory..   

       In later centuries Haripunchai repelled three Khmer invasions, halting Khmer expansion in Thailand after its conquest of the other Mon states in the Menam Chao Phya River basin. The next major event in the city’s history was its conquest in the late 13^th century by King Mengrai of Lanna.  Quite impressed by its high level of civilization, he did not attack the city but instead basically took it by subterfuge.  He built his own capital at Chiang Mai, 30 km north, modeled on Haripunchai's layout and designated Haripunchai the spiritual capital.

       Though its legacy still influenced Northern Thailand in religion and architecture, the city no longer played a role in regional history.  Eventually renamed Lamphun, it was just the small capital of a small province.  But in the late 19^th century it once again became influential thanks to the work of the Three Krubas of Li, the province’s southern district.

       The word kruba means ‘great teacher’ or ‘teacher of teachers’ and is bestowed on monks with a reputation for extraordinary piety and religious awareness.  A monument to the Three Krubas of Li stands at the outskirts of the town of Li, with statues of Siwichai, Apichai Khao Pi and Chaiyawongse, all of them monks from the district.  The first monk so designated was Siwichai, born to a devoutly Buddhist but poor peasant family in Ban Pang in 1878.

       As  he grew up the boy believed that his family’s poverty must be due to karma from a previous life and decided to atone for that with good works.  He became fully vegetarian and a Buddhist novice at 18 and fully ordained monk a few years later.  He became known for his asceticism, mastery of meditation, generosity and compassion for animals.  After his ordination he built a new temple in Ban Pang by persuading the local populace to cooperate as a way of making merit.  This was the first of many such temple projects, usually renovations, which Siwichai sponsored and led, such as Wats Suan Dok and Phra Singh in Chiang Mai and Wat Chamadevi, with its 12^th century chedis, in Lamphun.  

       His charisma attracted a wide following and his recommendations on a proper monastic life, inspired by his own example, won respect throughout the region.  It also stirred up controversy, even outright opposition, with the religious hierarchy in Bangkok.  At that time the kingdom was under the rule of Chulalongkorn, Rama V, and the former Kingdom of Lanna was semi-autonomous, still having its own hereditary sovereign (chao).   France and Great Britain were gobbling up territory on Thailand’s borders and Rama V felt the need to more fully integrate the company in the face of foreign threats.

       Besides reducing the Chao of Chiang Mai’s powers, Rama V’s government sought to unify the country’s Buddhist practice.  The Sangha Act of 1902 created monastic hierarchies with royal titles and rankings.  Lanna monasteries tended to be without established hierarchies and Bangkok abbots viewed Siwichai as antipathetic to the Sangha Act.  Moniks like Siwichai were expected to fall in line.  It was a matter of national unity, not to mention ecclesiastical  authority.. They ordered him arrested and subjected to several interrogations, even confined for over a year to Wat Haripunchai in Lamphun.  

      The suspicions were unjustified, for Siwichai’s work was concerned with making merit and spreading good works and not involved in monastic organization, much less Lanna separatism.  The charges were dropped and Siwichai was free to resume his projects.  The affair did have one impact on him, for his renovations did not restore Lanna temples in the precisely original Lanna style, but modified to the Rattanakosin style of central Thailand, such as whitewashed walls and orange roofs.

       Three years before he died, Siwichai carried out his most famous project in 1935 by mobilizing thousands of devotees to build a road from the northwest edge of Chiang Mai 15 km up the mountain to the temple of Doi Suthep.  The mountain was named after Chamadevi’s first guardian Wasuthep and the temple constructed in 1383.  Surrounded by forests, it is visible from the valley and Is one of the city’s notable landmarks and, with the road making for easier access, a popular tourist attraction. On the full moon might of the 4^th lunar month, the occasion of Makha Bucha, marking the day of the Buddha’s birth, Enlightenment and death, Chiang Mai devotees hike to the temple to pay homage, returning after sunrise. 

       A statue of Siwichai stands in the Doi Suthep compound and another one stands in front of the assembly hall at Wat Phra Singh.  Devotees also erected a huge seated Siwichai, with hunched shoulders, on a hill beside the expressway at the turnoff to Lamphun.  The temple he built at Ban Pang has a museum displaying his personal effects and Siwichai amulets are still popular.

       Back in Li, a quiet small town 100 km south of Lamphun, one of Siwichai’s disciples, Kruba Apichai Chao Pi, acquired a similar reputation.  His most notable achievement was the renovation of Wat Prathat Phanom on a hill in the town. The temple had been abandoned for three centuries and under Apichai’s directions volunteers built a new, expanded temple compound and gilded chedi.  After his death his body was mummified and laid in a glass coffin inside the temple.  Devotees ritually change the corpse’s clothing once every March.  A statue of him, 15 meters tall, stands in front of the chedi, from where people also to come at sunrise to enjoy the view across the valley. 

       Close to the Three Krubas of Li monument lies Wat Phrabat Ha Duang, which local legend claims was originally built at the direction of Queen Chamadevi.  Returning here from military campaigns in the east she witnessed five lighted balls floating over five pieces of soil.  She ordered chedis to be constructed over each of the spots.  Those standing there now are not the originals, but recent renovated versions in exactly the same places.

       This tale of Chamadevi, as well as others of her exploits around Li, is not part of the usual narratives about her, historical or mythical, in Lamphun or elsewhere in her former realm, such as the imagery of Wat Chamadevi and Wat Prayeun in Lamphun or Wat Doi Kham south of Chiang Mai.  Wall murals at these temples depict mythical scenes from her life like her abduction as an infant by an eagle and rescue by Wasuthep, his training of her on the mountain, her boat journey to Lawo, her enthronement and how she first battled and then outwitted the Lawa chieftain Viranga.

       Murals also portray true historical events such as her reception in the city, her life at court and her diplomacy, in which she arranged for her twin sons to marry the deceased Viranga’s daughters, thus pacifying the Lawa and accommodating them to her rule.  Nothing else.  A temple a little south of Hot named after her was built next to a place on the Mae Ping River where she stopped for a break on her boat journey from Lawo.  It features a large seated sculpture of her and on the plain beside the river stands a chedi built at that time.  

       Relying only on this imagery one could conclude that after the trouble with the Lawa peace was established all around and Chamadevi’s career afterwards consisted of simply spreading Buddhism.  The people of Li, however, retain more of her life story, beyond just the tale of the chedis of Wat Ha Duang.  And thanks to the legacy of Chaiyawongse, the third famous kruba of Li, this is on public display.

      In the 1970s Chaiyawongse, strict vegetarian himself, persuaded Karen villagers to give up consuming animal products, become Buddhists and rebuild a temple ten km south of Li next to a large village of two branches of the Karen minority.  Called Wat Phrabat Huai Tom, the temple compound features special architectural elements like a rounded temple roof and a stepped white pagoda.  A statue of Chaiyawongse sits beside the entrance to the assembly hall. 

       What also distinguishes this temple is the courtyard next to the assembly hall that exhibits a replica of the boat Chamadevi rode on her journey to Haripunchai.  Wall murals along the corridor portray incidents of her life, in particular her military exploits around Li.  A portrait of her fondling an elephant while it bows in obeisance and a gibbon kneels nearby suggests her affinity with wild animals.  There’s a scene of her presiding over her court and another of her dispatching emissaries to her allies or subordinate princes in her military campaign against enemies east of her realm.

            A depiction of her preparing plans for combat while camping in the jungle comes next, followed by portraits of her and her armies in battle.  In these she or her sons ride elephants in fights with enemies, but in other scenes only the armies are in action, foot soldiers against their foes.  In one mural she is on horseback on a hill directing maneuvers and in another she rides forth, wielding a sword, to engage in a duel with a mounted opponent. 

       Murals in Wat Doi Kham portray her military training under Wasuthep and there are historical records of her leading Lawo forces to repel an invasion by a rival Mon state, though these were written long after the events.  Nevertheless, the murals at Wat Huai Tom reinforce her military reputation and hint at a more involved life than that assumed by her devotees today in the Lamphun area.

       How much of this is relevant to the Karen Buddhists who come to pray at the temple is a good question, for hers is a separate cult, more like that of a guardian spirit, only partially connected to the Buddhist religion.  The Karen have only been living in Thailand about two hundred years.  But Wat Prathat Huai Tom also draws Thai pilgrims from throughout the area, largely descendants of Chamadevi’s original subjects.  For them the murals and boat replica are likely to resonate more.

       The Karen village here also specializes in handicrafts, like basketry, woodcarving and especially weaving.  Displays of textiles—sarongs, Karen blouses and fringed shoulder bags are just outside the compound and the steady trickle of visitors provides customers.

       Chaiyawongse’s final project, done in the 90s, was to persuade Li people to build a new chedi and temple called Wat Chedi Sri Wiang Chai.  He claimed to have found fossilized cattle feces left by a previous incarnation of the Buddha, when he was a cow belonging to a bodhisattva.  This made the spot sacred and, worried that the area now open range and uncultivated might be profaned by development, he launched his building campaign.

       Modeled on the Shwedagon pagoda in Yangon, Myanmar, the gilded Sri Wiang Chai Chedi stands over twenty meters high.  As the area is relatively level land, it can be seen from far away.  The compound also holds a shrine housing life-size images of a pair of cattle, statues of the Buddha, of a demon spirit, of Chaiyawongse himself and a general riding a multi-headed elephant. It is a fitting example of the work of the three krubas of Li, carried out not by the sponsorship of government or the wealthy class, but by the common people, motivated solely by the desire, as good Buddhists, to do something to make merit.

 

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Chiang Mai’s Forest Temples

                                                                        by Jim Goodman

temple at Wat Pha Lat

       When King Mengrai founded Chiang Mai in 1296, he laid out a city in a nearly square shape, surrounded by moats and walls on all four sides.  The king, his ministers, high-ranking nobles and the royal guards lived within the city.  Besides the palaces, nobles’ mansions and the barracks, the other buildings were mostly temples and monasteries.  The Kingdom of Lanna was a Theravada Buddhist state, religion was royally patronized and thus monks formed a large part of the urban population.

       Some of the nobility had homes on the other side of Chang Puak Gate and the northern moats.  Most of the commoners lived outside the city, especially between the eastern walls and the Ping River and in Haiya, the neighborhood south of the walled city.  They regularly entered the city during the day, mainly to the daily market through the center of the city.  But these temporary crowds returned to their homes by evening, when the gates were locked and quiet prevailed within.

the tunnel chedi at Wat Umong Maha Therachan

a tunnel of Wat Umong Suan Puthatam

       Most of the temple compounds stood beside groves of trees, usually away from the commercial zone.  This made them excellent locations for pursuing a largely quiet and contemplative lifestyle.  Yet from early in Lanna history, a faction of monks sought something even closer to nature, remote from the limited hustle and bustle of old Chiang Mai.  They would be known as the forest monks and concentrate on meditation in temples well beyond the settled areas. 

the chedi at Wat Umong

discarded image at Wat Umong

       King Mengrai was a very religious-minded sovereign and often consulted with monks on matters pertaining to state policies as well as religion.  One of his favorite advisors was the monk Therachan, who lived at the compound now named after him—Wat Umong Maha Therachan.  He used to meditate inside a tunnel chedi on the compound.   As construction proceeded inside the city, of palaces, temples, roads and such, he complained to the king that the commotion was disturbing his meditation.

martial scene in stone, Wat Umong

       In response, King Mengrai ordered tunnels excavated within a mound on a hill in the forest west of Chiang Mai.  This was the first forest temple in the region, established around 1300 and named Wat Umong Suan Putthatam.  Therachan moved here and, we can assume, meditated in peace ever after.  The compound was abandoned in the 15^th century and fell into ruins until it was finally renovated and reconstructed in 1948.

       Chiang Mai’s expansion since then has put its western suburban neighborhoods right up to the walls of the compound.  Yet it’s still a very quiet place and sprawls over a much bigger area than any city temple compound.  Besides its architectural and sculptural features, Wat Umong is also a meditation center for the laity.  Thais and foreign tourists enroll for as many days as they like, rise and eat early, listen to lectures, do some temple maintenance work and meditate as many hours as they can in special meditation quarters.

ladies in stone, Wat Umong

       Tall, leafy trees shade most of the pathways.  The meditation center and information office is a little ways inside the compound.  Signs everywhere urge for quiet and consideration.  Tour group leaders don’t use megaphones here, either.  The road continues past the meditation center and ends in front of the temple’s main architectural attraction—the mound with the tunnels inside and the chedi on top.

       Three tunnels about 25 meters long lead from the base of the mound to a long corridor tunnel at right angles to these, with a seated Buddha image in the center.  Altogether, they make a more capacious site in which to meditate than the cramped tunnel chedi of Wat Umong Maha Therachan.  But as they are full of tourists every day, they are no longer used for that purpose by resident monks, who live in separate huts in the grove behind and to the right of the chedi. 

ancient times on a stone stele, Wat Umong

enemy warriors, Wat Umong

       On the mound above the tunnels stands a large chedi in the Ayutthaya style, like an inverted bell, restored in 1948.  A row of sculpted Buddha figures surrounds the base of its spire.  Off to one corner of the area is a sculpture of a skin-and-bones Buddha at the peak of his ascetic practices, just before he abandoned them. 

hallway at Wat Padaeng

       To the right of the tunnels lies a yard containing religious images removed from homes or temples and no longer used.  As it would be sacrilegious to destroy them, people leave them here, at a kind of image dumping ground.  Some are broken, missing heads or missing bodies, but others are still intact and attractive pieces of religious art.

       Even more impressive are the works on exhibit inside and outside the long hall in front.  Some are paintings with mostly religious themes.  The bulk of them are stone carvings depicting mythological and quasi-historical themes.  A majority of them are rectangular or even round slabs of stone embedded in the lower walls of the building.  Others are free-standing steles.

viharn and chedis at Wat Padaeng

       The works are mostly high-relief sculptures ranging in theme from the religious, such as the death of the Buddha or portraits of very Indian-looking deities, to secular scenes like riding off to war on elephants and horses.  Martial scenes characterize several sculptures, along with portraits of demon-like enemies.  But the set also includes depictions of women making offerings and groups of young monks.  The high quality of the carvings, with realistic faces, attention to detail and sheer number of figures fitted into some of the steles exhibited in this fine outdoor museum further augment the experience of visiting Wat Umong..

chedi at Wat Phra That Doi Suthep

stream beside Wat Pha Lat

       Back in front of the tunnels, a lane turning left passes a few shrines on the way down to a large pond, home of ducks, catfish and turtles.  At a booth above the bridges to the small island visitors can buy food for the creatures in the pond.  There’s also a coffee shop here.  For those residing at Wat Umong, in the wee hours of the morning here they might catch sight of rabbits and squirrels scampering about and even deer poking their heads through the bushes on the far banks.  As Chiang Mai’s first forest temple, Wat Umong still remains close to nature.

staircase figures,Wat Pha Lat

       Not far from Wat Umong, on a wooded hill above a residential neighborhood road, stands the much smaller compound of Wat Padaeng.  Except for the chedis, the compound consists mainly of recently constructed buildings, has no sculptural displays or facilities for laymen to learn or practice meditation.  Yet it qualifies as a forest temple, with a couple dozen resident monks and an atmosphere even more tranquil than at Wat Umong.

       After Wat Umong, the next major forest temples constructed were on Doi Suthep, the mountain west of the city that has always been revered by Chiang Mai people.  Even today, except for the temple grounds, a royal palace and two Hmong villages, thick forests swathe the entire mountain.  The construction of the temple Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, visible from the city 15 km away, dates from the 14^th century, commissioned by Lanna’s King Nuena.

       According to the popular origin story, a monk from Lamphun claimed to have found a Buddhist relic—a shoulder bone of the Buddha—and presented it to King Dhammaraj of Sukhothai.  But after proper installation and a round of rituals, the relic didn’t seem to affect anything and Dhammaraj lost interest.  However, King Kuena, who had just taken over in 1355, had heard of it and secured permission for its transfer from Sukhothai to Chiang Mai. 

elephant at rest, Wat Pha Lat

Phra Phrom image, Wat Pha Lat

       Upon conveyance to Lamphun the relic broke into two pieces.  The smaller piece wound up in a local temple.   Kuena ordered the larger piece placed on the back of a white elephant, which was released into the forest.  The animal at once began ascending Doi Suthep.  It made a couple stops along the way, then came to a spot high up the slope, trumpeted three times and fell over dead.  The king ordered a temple built on that spot to house the relic.

monks' huts, Wat Pha Lat

       The temple buildings have largely been replaced by very ornate modern versions.  But the original chedi, 24 meters high, built in 1384 and completely gilded, still stands in the main courtyard, surrounded by small shrines and images.  The monastic communities that once lived here were even more isolated than those at Wat Umong.  Once a year, though, on the night before Buddha’s birthday, devotees hiked up the mountain to pay respects to the enshrined relic.  Other than occasional visits by monks on pilgrimage, this was their only contact with the outside world,

       In 1935, Kruba Sivichai, a monk with a reputation for restoring old temples in    northern Thailand, organized devotees to build a paved road from the foot of Doi Suthep to the temple.  Nowadays, this road makes it easy to get there, so the temple has become a popular tourist attraction and a village full of food stalls and souvenir shops has grown in front of it.

       About a third of the way up the mountain, a lane branches left down and around a couple of nondescript roadside buildings to the premises of Wat Pha Lat—Temple of the Sloping Cliff.  In their eagerness to get to Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, most travelers pass this by, yet this is the best contemporary version of a classic forest temple.  The shrines and other buildings lie on angled slopes, surrounded by trees and near a running stream.

Wat Rampoeng

16th century chedi at Wat Rapoeng

       The compound was built around the same time as Wat Phra That Doi Suthep, on a spot where the white elephant carrying the relic paused to rest.  Compared to Wat Doi Suthep, the buildings are modest, spaced apart from each other, and the chedi isn’t gilded.   The small number of resident monks lives in a row of huts in the center of the compound, while the main meditation center lies on the lower part of the compound slope.  Monks may also choose to do this exercise along the bank of the stream.  Lots of birds flutter among the trees, while squirrels, lizards and peacocks meander near the shrines.

miniature gold trees, Wat Rampoeng

       Besides its exquisite natural setting and serenity, Wat Pha Lat also features interesting sculptures.  The shrines hold various Buddha images, but more striking are the guardian creatures in front of them or at the bottom of the staircases.  These range from mythical lions to Thai-style sphinxes to creatures with a dragon body and the upper torso of a human (or maybe a god).  Other works of art include a four-faced Phra Prom, the Buddhist version of the Hindu god Brahma, a reclining elephant and a celestial scene carved on a wooden door.

       The last of Lanna’s classic forest temples was Wat Rampoeng Tapotharam, the Temple of Ascetic Practices, about four km southwest of the old city.  In the late 15^th century, King Yot Chiang Rai, following up an itinerant monk’s tale of miraculous rays of light emanating from beneath a certain tree, discovered a container holding a tooth of the Buddha.  To honor this relic, in 1492 he ordered a monastery built on the spot. 

       Like at Wat Doi Suthep, the original buildings have all been replaced, except for the chedi, erected early 16^th century to store the relic.  Shaped like a cone, it has eight diminishing tiers.  Wat Rampoeng was periodically abandoned and reopened and served as a compound for Japanese troops in the 1940s.  From 1974 it took on an additional identity as a meditation center.  Though the surrounding forest has largely made way for a suburban residential neighborhood, the temple lies at the end of a quiet lane, still has lots of trees around it and is far enough back from the Canal Road that traffic noise is inaudible.

viharn interior, War Rampoeng

       While it doesn’t enjoy the same isolation as Wat Pha Lat, for civilization, not a forest, lies just outside the entrance gate, Wat Rampoeng has a community of several dozen monks, all dedicated to the same forest monk lifestyle.  At any given time, it also houses many meditation students, who sign up for usually a 24-day course in the vipassana meditation method.  As at Wat Umong, they wear white clothing, rise and retire early, don’t eat after noon and spend most hours learning and practicing meditation. 

       The two viharns (assembly and worship halls), while new, are outstanding examples of religious architecture.  The sloping roofs are dark, setting off the gilded decorations along their edges, as are the walls, with golden embellishments above the doors and windows.  In front of the entrances stand miniature, gold-leafed trees, left there by pious devotees.   Altogether, Wat Rampoeng is one of the most beautiful compounds in the Chiang Mai area.

       Forest temples were designed to be close to nature.  Yet they are also endowed with exquisite works of art.  So then being close to nature implies being close to art.  The one reinforces appreciation of the other.  It is this concept that enhances the pleasure of time spent in a forest temple, whether as a contemplative resident monk or just an enchanted visitor.

the bigger viharn at Wat Rampoeng

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Why Chiang Mai?

                                                                         by Jim Goodman

Chang Puak Gate and Doi Suthep

       Thirty years have passed since I decided to make Chiang Mai my home.  Of course the city is much bigger now, more congested, more polluted, but that’s true almost everywhere.  It swarms with tourists during the dry months and is still pretty crowded even in the rainy season.  But increasing tourism is a permanent phenomenon for any attractive destination and Chiang Mai gets such attention because it truly deserves it.  Its location, size, cultural features, religious and historical monuments all contribute to its popularity for travelers, and were precisely the characteristics that first enchanted me. 

the iron bridge across the Ping River

       The city lies on a broad plain between the mountain Doi Suthep to the west and the Ping River to the east.  With mountains on the horizon, especially north and west, towering trees both right inside the city and gracing the banks of the moats and the river, Chiang Mai is easy on the eyes. 

       Even with its expansion over the past three decades, it’s still a small city.  Traffic can be pretty heavy at times, yet if you’re on a motorbike instead of driving a car, even in rush hour you can be in the quiet, clean-air countryside in less than half an hour.  Most of the city traffic emanates from the business district near the river and the suburbs.  The old town, the main focus for tourists, experiences far less traffic.

Ku Ruang, the southwest bastion

       Chiang Mai dates its creation to 1296, founded by Mengrai, King of Lanna, a state that at its peak comprised most of the provinces of Northern Thailand.  Roughly square-shaped, 1.5 km per side, surrounded by moats, the city had five entry gates, bastions at the four corners and brick walls connecting them.  Mainly the extended royal family and some of the nobility lived within the walls, while commoners dwelt outside.  From its inception the city had many temples and another large portion of the city’s population were resident monks. 

       Today the old town has about forty temples within the moats and many more in the neighborhoods beyond them.  One cannot walk very far without passing by a temple compound and the high sloping roofs of the viharn, the main assembly building, and the spires of the chedi, the reliquary building shaped like an inverted bell that stands behind the viharn, are often taller than surrounding secular buildings.  Towering skyscrapers are absent from the old town, and much of the rest of the city as well, a factor adding to the pleasure of exploring it.

Wat Phra Singh compound

       In the early 90s, though, real estate speculation threatened to turn Chiang Mai into a Little Bangkok.  Condos and high-rise hotels began going up at a frantic pace.  Ownership changed hands several times before the building’s completion.   Meanwhile debris from the construction process fell into people’s yards and monastery compounds.

       By the mid-90s city residents were more than just annoyed.  Before work began on the Rimping Condominium next to the Nakhon Ping Bridge, angry neighbors called in monks to curse the ground.  Then they put up a banner just across the street announcing what they had done.  The condo went up anyway, but after its completion it was nearly three years before anyone moved into it.

ruins at Wat Chedi Luang

       The governor rebutted these complaints by stating that Chiang Mai needed development and that meant more condos and hotels.  But shortly after that an earthquake struck, cracking four of the condos.  Nobody was hurt and it fact it was a mild tremor, but it did scare people living near anything tall.  Then the governor himself died in a helicopter crash.  His successor reversed policy and limited new buildings within the city limits to six stories.  Those that had already begun construction were permitted to rise according to the original plan.  But since then, the six-story rule has held and all the tall buildings standing in the city today are at least twenty years old. 

sculpted horses at Wat Khun Kha Ma

       Thus Chiang Mai did not become Little Bangkok after all.  It retained its identity as a small, pedestrian-friendly city, full of historical and religious monuments, free of the hustle and bustle of a major metropolis, even though it’s Thailand’s second largest city.  There are no industrial complexes or big factories in the area and tourism, broadly defined, is the biggest industry. 

       Temples and the historical remnants are the main tourist attractions.  Temples all over Thailand feature ancient chedis, outstanding sculptures and so forth and so do various Chiang Mai temples.  The most famous chedi is that at Wat Chedi Luang, which in the 15^th century stood 95 meters tall, truly the region’s first religious skyscraper.  A major earthquake in 1545 knocked down the upper part, never rebuilt.  What’s left of it still rises higher than all other buildings around it.

Tha Pae Gate

       Some temples are unique to Chiang Mai.  I include Wat Lamchang, Temple of the Tethered Elephants, erected on old Lanna’s royal elephant stable and full of elephant statues in the compound.  Not far away is Wat Khun Kha Ma, built on the former royal stables after an epidemic slew the horses and the distraught owner wanted to commemorate his beloved animals.  Finally, there is Wat Lokmolee, across the northeast side of the moat, which has a special shrine to Chiraprapha, the only Queen Regnant in Lanna history, who ruled briefly about a dozen years before the Burmese conquered the city in 1558.

       All these details became familiar to me the more I explored Chiang Mai, augmenting my appreciation of the city.  In 1996 the city celebrated its 700^th anniversary by restoring some of the old temples and city walls.  Wat Lokmolee’s restoration came only this century, along with a few other temples.  This exemplified another notable feature of Chiang Mai.  Its people have a strong sense of their own separate cultural and historical development, without that sliding into nationalism or separatism, such as affects the Shan in Myanmar.  One manifestation of that is keeping their historical monuments in good shape and restoring whatever can be restored.

alms-giving in the old town

       When the Japanese occupied Chiang Mai they tore down the gates and walls to use the bricks to make new roads.  They left the four corner bastions standing though, but it was not until the late 1960s that the city got around to reconstructing the gates.  And only in the mid-90s were parts of the walls rebuilt.

       Of the city gates, the most important today is Tha Pae Gate, the eastern one, with a large plaza in front and the only one vehicular traffic cannot pass through.  It’s popular in the morning with tourists who want to pose for photos with the pigeons.  It is also the venue for special city events—beauty contests, stage shows, New Year’s countdown--and festival processions pass by here.  Opposite Chang Puak Gate, the northern one, and right next to Chiang Mai Gate, the southern one, food stalls open at night, with a variety of inexpensive meals on offer.

northern beauty on a Loy Krathong float

Flower Festival procession

       Another example of the Northern Thai people’s cultural consciousness is their enthusiastic celebration of the city’s festivals.  A majority of these are Buddhist events and largely restricted to gatherings at the temples, though one of them, Buddha’s birthday, includes a procession up Doi Suthep the night before.  Religion is still a major factor in local people’s lives and many Chiang Mai residents rise early to donate food, money and other daily necessities into the monks’ begging bowls when they make their morning rounds.

summer flowers on Rattanakosin Street

       Others are basically secular, even if they have accompanying rituals.  The most famous is Songkran, 13-15 April, marking the traditional Thai New Year.  It’s also known as the Water-Throwing Festival, after its primary activity—people throwing water on each other the whole day long for three days.  After one experience of it I have tended to avoid it over the years.

       The most attractive event is Loy Krathong, held for three days around the full moon of November.  People make krathongs—small boats made out of banana leaf, containing flowers, incense and a candle—and float them in the Ping River.  This is done to persuade the river goddess to cease the rain, for it’s harvest time soon, and take the waters back, by giving her a beautiful send-off.  Processions, fireworks, stage shows and thousands of floating lanterns wafting into the sky these nights make it the most spectacular and enjoyable public event of the year.

flowering trees on the northern moat

       The Tourism Authority of Thailand added another annual event to the calendar with the creation of the Flower Festival the first weekend of February.  Heavily decorated floats on flatbed trucks file in a procession from the train station all the way through downtown Chiang Mai to Buag Had Park in the southwest part of the old town.  Here they stay another day, while various food and commercial stalls set up on adjacent streets. 

       For a resident then, Chiang Mai has regular public events to punctuate the year.  Some are rather sedate temple affairs, but others, like Loy Krathong, are spectacles worth seeing every time they occur.  Loy Krathong occurs at the beginning of the cool, dry season, the most comfortable time of year.  Temperatures drop somewhat the next couple months, but not to the level of more northern countries.  It never snows here or at night gets colder than ten degrees Celsius. 

200 year-old tree at Wat Chedi Luang

sacred trees on the road to Lamphun

       From March through May is the hot, dry season, with temperatures reaching up to forty degrees Celsius in the daytime.  Yet the nights are pleasant and in compensation for the heat, tropical fruits abound in the market and flowers bloom on the trees along the moat and throughout the suburbs.  When the rains commence in June-July, the temperatures drop a bit and the rain comes mostly at night and rarely all day long.

monk procession on a Buddhist holy day

Lahu Shehleh in Warorot Market

      Besides their colorful displays when they blossom, some of Chiang Mai’s trees are believed to be home to guardian spirits, like the towering dipterocarp planted by Kawila at Chedi Luang, after he resurrected Chiang Mai in 1796, following the expulsion of the Burmese.  The biggest trees in temple courtyards date from the compound’s original construction or a major renovation.  To honor the tree’s guardian spirit, devotees place poles at its base to prop it up and relieve the stress of its weight.  Other venerable trees feature shrines in front and the tall trees parallel to the old road south to Lamphun are wrapped in yellow robes to indicate their sanctity.  They make this route the most beautiful drive in any direction outside Chiang Mai.

street mural, Loi Kroa Road

       Modern Chiang Mai has its supermarkets and shopping malls, but the traditional markets, like Warorot and Muang Mai along the river, are still quite active, the latter all night long.  The scenes here are sometimes enhanced by visits of ethnic minorities from the mountains, dressed in their traditional clothing, especially Lahu Shehleh, Hmong, Akha and Palong, which adds an exotic, colorful aspect to the streets, yet another attraction of life in Chiang Mai. 

       Night markets are also popular, especially with tourists, both the Night Bazaar on Changklang Road and the ‘walking street’ weekend markets Saturday on Wualai Road, southeast of Chiang Mai Gate, and Sundays on the road between Tha Pae Gate and Wat Phra Singh.  Lanna handicrafts dominate the goods on sale, from hill tribe products to items from long-established specialty villages, like celadon wares from San Kamphaeng, umbrellas from Bor Sang, woodcarvings from Hangdong and silver and lacquer creations from Chiang Mai’s Haiya district.

       In addition to its traditional crafts, Chiang Mai is one of the country’s prime artistic centers, home to many modern artists.  The city has several galleries and art and photography exhibitions take place throughout the year.  Imaginative street artists have also covered bare compound walls with their works and when riding around familiar routes I often come across new murals that cause me to stop for a bit and appreciate.

rising of a 'super moon' over the banks of the Ping River

       Beyond the city’s assets, which I am constantly discovering the longer I stay here, Chiang Mai is close to other attractions in the region.  It is a short, pleasant drive to ancient Lamphun, whose moats, walls and religious architecture had a profound impact on Mengrai and his foundation of Chiang Mai.  The hills, valleys and gardens of Mae Rim are less than an hour away going north.  Hmong, Lahu and Karen villages are within easy reach, while Akha, Lisu, Palong and Yao villages are further on.  Forest parks and scenic reservoirs are also within easy access, while the Ping River itself is most attractive near the city and a great venue for sunset and moonrise viewing.

       All these features make the city increasingly popular with tourists, but they hardly ever get in my way.  Tourism development has basically meant more hotels and restaurants, so if I fancy a different meal than the local food that I ordinarily prefer, I can choose among a variety of Chinese, Vietnamese, Indian, German, French, American and Italian restaurants.  It’s obvious why Chiang Mai became a tourist hub, as well as a favorite place for retirees and pensioners.  They are all here for the same reasons that lured me to remain for three decades so far, with little inclination to seek anything conceivably better.

wooden foot-bridge over the northern moat

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