Showing posts with label Mengrai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mengrai. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 22, 2022

Captured Citizens: the Tai Yong of Lamphun

 

                                      by Jim Goodman

 

       Lamphun is one of northern Thailand’s premier attractions.  Founded in the 7th century under the name Haripunchai, it was the capital of a Mon kingdom that was the first organized state in northern Thailand.  It repelled three Khmer invasions and survived until conquered by King Mengrai of Lanna, in the late 13th century.  It was Buddhist since its inception, for its first ruler Queen Chamadevi introduced and patronized the religion upon assumption of the throne.  Besides its political achievements, Haripunchai also enjoyed a reputation as the center of Buddhism in the north.  Mengrai appreciated this, spared the city any physical destruction and continued royal patronage after establishing Lanna’s capital just 25 km north.

        Historic religious monuments are the main attraction for contemporary visitors.  They usually start with Wat Prathat Haripunchai, the city’s most splendid compound.  But there is more of interest in the city besides religion.  Just outside the eastern entry gate stand several stalls selling locally made cotton goods.  More of these are across the street and still more line up inside the picturesque covered bridge across the Kuang River.  On the other
of the river lies Wiang Yong village, where most of the cotton goods are made.

       The residents are people of the Tai Yong sub-group who were not part of Lamphun’s original population, who were mainly Mon, later mixed with Tai Yuan.  They are descendants of people kidnapped from northeast Myanmar as part of a program to repopulate northern Thailand after the expulsion of the Burmese.

       In the late 18th century, King Kawila of Lampang led a campaign that finally terminated over two centuries of Burmese rule in northern Thailand.  It was a long, slow, costly effort that depopulated the cities and many of the villages.  In 1796 Kawila officially re-established the Kingdom of Lanna in the newly rebuilt capital of Chiang Mai, but its shattered economy and agricultural production had to be completely rebuilt, too.  A new campaign of persuading villagers who’d fled to the forests to return to their homes proved inadequate. 

       The solution came from the traditional practice of war among states in Southeast Asia.  Rivals fought each other over their resources and people were considered one of them.  When armies invaded states their plunder included capturing local people and resettling them deep within their own state’s boundaries.  Kawila began launching such expeditions in the immediate area in 1797.  After ousting the Burmese from their last bastion in northern Thailand in Chiang Saen in 1804, Kawila turned his attention to two states in northeast Burma that had once been allies of Lanna—Chiang Tung (now spelled Kyaingtong) and Meuang Yong (now spelled Mong Yawng). Major roundups in 1805 and 1809 removed the entire population of many villages.

        Meuang Yong, close to the Mekong River, was founded in the late 13th century.  It fell under Burmese suzerainty mid-16th century, but that had all but eroded by late 18th century.  Its people were mainly the Tai Lue subgroup, like the majority of the population of neighboring Xishuangbanna.  Their language, customs and Buddhist practices are close to that of the Tai Koen in Chiang Tung and the Tai Yuan of Lanna.  Their transplantation to Lanna would at least be to a familiar cultural environment. 

       In 1805 the Lanna government officially re-opened Lamphun.  The people abducted from Meuang Yong were re-settled in Wiang Yong, just across the Kuang River, for only the original Lamphun inhabitants, plus other Tai Yuan immigrants, were permitted to live within the city proper.  Another raid in 1809 augmented the numbers in and around Wiang Yong.  Lanna raids also abducted people from other Tai Lue settlements in Burma and Xishuangbanna, but these were dispatched to Nan and other provinces.  The Tai Lue of Wiang Yong subsequently became differentiated and known as Tai Yong.

       Far from enslaving their captives or discriminating against them as not full members of Lanna society, the campaign’s goal was to make them fully engaged citizens.  The Tai Yong chieftains pledged loyalty to Kawila’s state and in return were granted autonomous authority over their own community.  Class relations and social rules and customs that had prevailed in Meuang Yong would continue in Lamphun.  The ultimate authority would be the Lanna king, who ruled on matters of national interest but left local affairs to the charge of Tai Yong leaders.  It was a type of political arrangement common throughout Thailand at the time.  By acknowledging suzerainty Lanna had made a similar deal with the Kingdom of Siam.

       The new citizenry began cultivating the land and recreating the life they had back in the old country.  Other captured and resettled communities did likewise.  Some, like the Tai Koen from Chiang Tung, were noted for their craft skills, especially lacquer workers and silversmiths, and were relocated to the southern part of Chiang Mai.  The Tai Yong had no particular reputation for any special craft.  But in the tradition of self-sufficient farmers their women knew how to weave the material that clothed their family’s bodies.

       Weaving was an old tradition in the area, like most anywhere else in Asia.  A weaver operating a frame loom much like what is still used today is one of the relief sculptures depicting scenes from life in old Haripunchai on the wall behind the queen’s statue in Chamadevi Park.  Tai Yong women were already used to weaving for their own needs.  Their people traditionally raised cotton along with rice and vegetables and every girl learned how to spin thread and weave while growing up.  Now, with the reestablishment of Lamphun, Chiang Mai and other cities, they had a market for surplus production. 

       It’s a laborious process, especially in the beginning.  After picking the cotton bolls from the plants in the fields, the worker then runs the cotton through the rollers of a gin to crush the seeds within it.  The next step is to fluff the ginned cotton to remove the foreign matter.  Then it is ready to mount little by little on a spindle mounted on a frame with a wheel.  Turning the wheel starts the spinning of the cotton into thread.

       When the wheel has accumulated enough thread the worker removes the loop and mounts it on a winding frame to turn the loop into balls of thread, the easier to mount as warp threads on the loom and weft threads into the shuttles.  The amount of thread required depends on the length of the intended bolt of cloth, which is often several meters and more.  Mounting the lengthwise warp threads is time-consuming work, for each has to be separated by heddles that connect every other one to one of the foot pedals.

       The weaver sits on a bench behind the loom and depresses one of the foot pedals while pushing the heddle frame forward.  This creates an opening in the warp thread set, through which the weaver throws a shuttle of weft thread.  Then she knocks it firmly into place moving the heddle frame and then opens a new shed by depressing the other foot pedal and this time tosses the shuttle through the opposite direction.  The threads are thus locked into a tight web.

       Tai Yong style has evolved over the centuries, especially after the introduction of aniline dyes.  Nowadays weavers still produce pieces in soft, pastel colors resembling the shades and tones of vegetable dyes in the past.  Some use supplementary weft to add more pictorial designs across the fabric.  The more typical contemporary Tai Yong style, though, features a bold display of bright horizontal stripes in multiple colors, separated and accentuated by wide bands of black. 

       Tai Yong textiles of all kinds, as well as clothing and other items made from them, have been boosted by the growth of tourism in recent decades, more so with domestic tourists than foreigners.  Tai Yong goods are available beyond Lamphun Province, from shops in Chiang Mai, Chiang Rai, Lampang and Bangkok.  Besides enabling a more prosperous life, the growing interest in and appreciation of Tai Yong crafts has contributed to a sense of ethnic pride.    

       The compound of Wiang Yong’s Wat Ton Kaew, built next to a surviving 16th century chedi, contains a Tai Yong Museum, as well as a weaving workshop.   The museum is an elegant stilted wooden building, its entrance flanked by two tall carved wooden posts.  The open ground floor displays antique furniture, musical instruments, old photographs and other items.  The much larger exhibit upstairs includes sculptures of Buddha and mythical animals, carved chests and containers, old typewriters, umbrellas, baskets, ceramic jars and vases, kitchen tools, antique women’s garments and all things associated with weaving.  On the walls hang framed historical photos of royal visits, famous monks being honored and Lamphun beauty contests from the 1960s.     

       In recent years the Lamphun fabric business has branched out from weaving cotton cloth to silk production and ikat dyeing.  Because silk threads are thinner than cotton the mounting of the warp threads and the weaving itself takes much longer.  And then there’s the trouble of raising the silkworms and acquiring the thread.  This was not a Tai Yong village tradition, so the new silk business started with outsider investment and work is confined to a few suburban factories.

       Other Tai Yong villages beyond Wieng Yong also got into the weaving business and today two of them, still actively involved in the trade, are in Pasang District south of Lamphun and are popular tourist attractions.  Several km beyond the town a tall wooden entrance gate flanks a side road leading a bit further to Don Luang village.  The cluster of shops and textile displays starts at the beginning of the settled area.  Most of the looms and dyeing sites are in houses in the side lanes.

       Shops hold bolts of cloth which they sell by the meter, cotton sarongs and a wide range of ready-made clothes.  Their stocks may also include locally woven cotton turned into bed sheets, curtains, pillow cases, table cloths, purses and shoulder bags.  Some of these items will be dyed ikat-style.  Ikat is a form of resist-dyeing in which the dyer covers the cloth in a specific design marked with beeswax or some other impenetrable matter.  When the cloth is immersed the covered parts do not receive the dye.  Afterwards when the cloth is washed and the beeswax boiled off the design appears as the part that resisted the color.

       This method can lead to some pretty imaginative results.  Dyers give the pieces several dye bath immersions, modifying the placement of the resisting element each time, even the colors used in the bath, to make ever more complex and colorful designs.  Most of the items are blue and white, but there are other combinations, the results of re-dyeing.  Some pieces sport sections, like sleeves, collars or just adjoining parts of the t-shirt body or trouser legs, dyed with different color and pattern combinations.

       About 4 km past Don Luang and through a similar entrance gate, lies the larger and more interesting Tai Yong village of Nong Ngeuak.  While also a weaving center, other crafts are both produced and taught here.  A bit distant from the highway traffic it’s a very quiet village, little disturbed by interruptions of noise from cars, trucks or motorbikes.  The people are very friendly and hospitable to visitors and a few offer home-stay accommodations.  Visitors are far fewer since the outbreak of the pandemic a couple years ago and the craft activity much reduced, but those who do come still enjoy a pleasant experience.     

       The village can boast of one of the most beautiful temples in the province—Wat Ngon Ngeuak, built in the style of their original homeland in Meuang Yong, Myanmar.  The compound entry gate is roofed and decorated with large stucco figures.  The main assembly hall is of modest size and smaller shrines in the yard feature carved and gilded embellishments.  The most graceful building is the library, standing on blocks in a rectangular pond.  It has a double roof with interior walls filled with religious frescoes.

       Across the street is the village park, with a giant spinning wheel standing at one end and flower beds stretching in front of it.  Beside it is a stilted house identified as the village’s own Tai Yong Museum, with a similar collection of exhibits as in Wiang Yong.  Craft centers are scattered throughout the village.  One shop produces sandals made from old rubber tires.  Another specializes in “owl bags” made by stitching together different small pieces of a variety of cloth. The same technique is also used to make long skirts.  There’s also a basketry center and, naturally, a few weaving workshops.

        One is a natural dye outfit that uses indigo and a group of local roots, fruits and vegetables to make the colors for all their woven work.  Because of the time and work required for the dyeing the products are more expensive.  But there is a niche market for such items, mainly among traditional-minded Thais, enough anyway to keep the skill and heritage alive.


   * * *

Thursday, December 6, 2018

The Cult of Chamadevi, Queen of Ancient Lamphun


                                 by Jim Goodman

devotees at the altar of Chamadevi in the park
       Men have been the movers and shakers of historical events almost everywhere in Thailand.  The notable exception is Lamphun, the oldest city in northern Thailand, supposedly founded in the 7th century, where the first ruler was a remarkable woman named Chamadevi.  Historians differ on the dates, but none dispute her existence and her role in the foundation of Haripunchai, as Lamphun was first known.  But there are no extant contemporary accounts and the chronicles about the period were all written long after King Mengrai of Lanna conquered the city in 1281.
       Chamadevi was a Mon princess from Lawo (today’s Lopburi), one of several allied Mon city-states in central Thailand in the 7th century.  Invited to rule the newly established city of Haripunchai, she brought along 500 monks, as well as scholars and skilled artisans, with the intent to make Haripuuchai a new Lawo and a successful northward extension of Mon civilization.  She subdued the indigenous Lawa people and established Theravada Buddhism as the state religion.
Chamadevi setting out from Lawo, from a mural in Wat Prayeun
       This much of her story is certain.  It’s the details that have been embellished.  Writing centuries after the events, the chroniclers probably relied on the oral accounts of local residents.  And they uncritically recorded everything they heard.  Thus, historical facts have been embroidered with legends filled with fanciful, colorful details that so resonated with the local people that they turned her into a cult figure.
       According to the best-known story, Chamadevi was born to a wealthy farmer near Pasang, south of Lamphun.  At the age of just three months she was carried off by a giant bird and taken to the residence of the hermit Wasuthep on the mountain west of present-day Chiang Mai that in later times would be named after him—Doi Suthep.   He raised her as his own daughter and gave her the name Chamadevi.
Wasuthep and the Buddha, Wat Ku Tao
Chamadevi's shrine, Wat Ku Kut
       When she reached puberty at 13, Wasuthep decided to divine her fortune and discovered she was destined to become the ruler of a new state.  In order that she would obtain the proper training for such a role, the hermit dispatched Chamadevi by raft downriver to Lawo, along with a pair of monkeys to keep her company, believed to be the ancestors of contemporary Lopburi's monkey community.  Her arrival both astonished and pleased Lawo’s king and queen and they raised her in the palace.
Chamadevi's army, Wat Prayeun mural
       She grew up educated, pious and adept in military affairs.  By the time she was twenty she was very beautiful and attracted many suitors, all of whom she turned down.  One of them, a neighboring  Mon prince, reacted to her rejection by leading an army against Lawo.  Chamadevi herself directed the defenders, who repulsed the disappointed prince’s troops.
       A few years later Wasuthep, who had been busy recently laying the foundations for Haripunchai, arrived in Lawo to request that Chamadevi be allowed to serve as sovereign of the new city.  Chamadevi happened to be pregnant at the time, but not married.  In fact, her lover had entered the monkhood.  She may have been an embarrassment at Court and perhaps the King of Lawo agreed to her departure to squelch the gossip. 
repelling Viranga's attack, Wat  Ku Kut mural
       They made the journey by river, which took, depending on the chronicle, three to seven months.  A week after her arrival she gave birth to twin sons—Mahantayos and Anantayos.  With the large retinue that accompanied her, she quickly set up a state modeled on that of Lawo and began patronizing Buddhism.
       Wasuthep disappears from the narratives, but back around his former home on Doi Suthep, the Lawa inhabitants were aware of developments just 25 km south.  But when their leader King Viranga listened to his spies’ reports, what struck him most were their descriptions of Chamadevi’s great beauty.  He fell in love and dispatched a messenger asking the new queen to marry him.  She bade him wait, for she was weaning her infant sons.
Chamadevi's court at Haripunchai, Wat Prayeun mural
       Viranga waited.  Every year he sent a renewal of his request to Haripunchai.  Each time the queen replied that she was still weaning her sons.  When the two boys finally reached the age of eight, Viranga got fed up with this obviously false excuse and decided to invade Haripunchai and take Chamadevi by force.  His army was strong enough to breach the city walls and open the northern gate, through which Viranga rode through for his triumphal entry.
       Suddenly, from the southern part of the city, came Chamadevi’s counter-attack.  Her young sons rode her personal war elephant, named Blackie Purple after the color of its skin, charged at the Lawa and terrified both them and Viranga’s war elephant.  The latter turned so quickly that it broke Viranga’s leg against the gate.  Commemorating that incident, the northern gate of contemporary Lamphun is named Pratu Chang Si—Elephant Crush Gate.
Wat Sanpayangluang, Chamadevi's cremation site
       Blackie Purple died not long afterwards and Viranga believed his next assault would be victorious.  Chamadevi suspected that as well, so she proposed a deal.  Since he claimed supernatural powers he should prove it by hurling a spear from his home on Doi Suthep to the city of Haripunchai.  The confident Viranga accepted the challenge, mounted Doi Suthep, summoned his powers and hurled his spear.  It fell just short of the city walls.  Not bad for a first attempt and, by terms of the deal, he had three tries.
        Alarmed at the result, Chamadevi resorted to guile.  She sent Viranga the gift of a special cloth hat to congratulate him on getting so close to success on his very first attempt.  The love-struck Viranga donned it at once and prepared for his second throw.  But this time the spear landed a few meters from his feet.  Part of the hat was made from Chamadevi’s undergarments, soiled by menstrual blood, a condition that automatically canceled Viranga’s supernatural powers.  Realizing he’d been tricked, Viranga threw his last spear straight up into the sky and bared his chest so that it struck him dead when it fell back down.
Mon-style sculptures at Wat Sanpayanglaung
       Chamadevi never did marry.  And neither the Lawa nor anyone else attacked Haripunchai again during her lifetime.  The rest of her reign was peaceful, devoted to establishing the government on a firm foundation, building temples and promoting Buddhism.  She reigned for about two more decades and then abdicated in favor of her son Mahantayos and moved south to Lampang, a new city whose ruler was her other son Anantayos.
       She died at the age of 89.  King Mahantayos had her corpse brought back to Haripunchai in a stately procession.  She was cremated at what is today called Wat Sun Pa Yang Luang, north of the old town and one of the most attractive temples in the region.  This was the site of northern Thailand’s first Buddhist temple, dated 542, long before the establishment of Haripunchai.  Chamadevi came here frequently to pray. 
the main chedi at Wat Phra That Haripunchai
13th century chedis at Wat Ku Kut
       Chamadevi’s legacy was a strong state that maintained its independence even after its parent Lawo fell to the Khmer in the 10th century.  Her dynasty died out in the early 11th century, when a devastating epidemic caused the city’ population to evacuate to Thaton, in lower Myanmar, for nearly a generation.  But then they moved back to Haripunchai.  In 1044 the king of a new dynasty ordered the construction of Wat Phra That Haripunchai on the grounds of Chamadevi’s former palace. 
       The magnificent gilded chedi, 43 meters tall, that dominates the compound, is said to be on the site of Chamadevi’s bedroom.  It was built a century later by King Aditayaraj to celebrate three victories over Khmer invaders.  Conscious of the state’s original sovereign, he also had a chedi built at Wat Ku Kut, a little west of the old city, in honor of Chamadevi. 
Blackie Purple, Chamadevi's elephant
Chamadevi's horse
       This chedi collapsed in an earthquake several years later.  In 1218 King Saphet ordered it rebuilt to a height of 21 meters.  Called Chedi Suwan Chang Kot, it is a stepped pyramid on a square base, with niches on each side containing standing Buddha images.  The same year saw the erection of a smaller companion, 11.5 meters high on a hexagonal base, called Chedi Ratana, which is believed to contain the ashes of Queen Chamadevi.
Ku Chang, the mouument to Blackie Purple
       By now Haripunchai was past its peak as a kingdom.  Tai Yuan people from further north began migrating into the state.  In 1258 they were strong enough to overthrow the king and install a new dynasty.  In 1281 the Tai Yuan state of Lanna under King Mengrai conquered the city, but more by subversion rather than by violence.  Mengrai admired Haripunchai and modeled his own capitals, first Wiang Kum Kam and then Chiang Mai, on the moats, walls and city gates of Haripunchai.  He was equally impressed with its level of civilization and patronage of Buddhism, which he sought to replicate in his own kingdom.
       From then on Haripunchai’s history is subsumed into that of the Kingdom of Lanna, which fell under Burmese rule in the mid-16th century.  In the late 18th century, in the wake of Kawila’s expulsion of the Burmese from northern Thailand, the city, like other cities in the north, was deserted.  After Kawila re-established Lanna he launched kidnapping campaigns in northeast Burma to repopulate the kingdom.  Among those captured were Tai Lue from Muang Yong, more popularly known as Yong people, who were forcibly resettled in Lamphun, the new name for Haripunchai.  They are still an important part of the city’s population.
Ku Ma, the monument to Chamadevi's horse
statue of Chamadevi in the park
       In recent decades Lamphun has become very conscious of its ancient heritage, including the importance of Chamadevi.  This is in spite of the fact that virtually nobody living there can trace descent from Haripunchai’s original population.  Yet as residents of Chamadevi’s city, they are conscious of her legacy and legends.  The chedis at Wat Ku Kut, also called Wat Chamadevi, have remained in remarkably good condition.  The new temple in the compound features wall murals of the Chamadevi story, such as the founding of Haripunchai and the contest with Viranga.
       In the eastern suburbs of Lamphun lies Wat Prayeun, where the interior walls of the ubosot—ordination hall—are also filled with murals of Chamadevi’s life.  These are a bit more ornate than those at Wat Ku Kut, and not always historically accurate.  The painting depicting her departure from Lawo shows the three prangs that are the iconic symbol of Lopburi, Lawo’s successor.  But those were built by the Khmer, long after the event.  Another painting, of a scene in Haripunchai, includes the gilded chedi, which wasn’t built for another few centuries.
holiday decorations at Chamadevi's Park
       Besides Wat Chamadevi, Lamphun’s devotees also visit Chamadevi’s animal shrines, located in a quiet compound on the Kuang River east of the city.  The biggest is Ku Chang, a bullet-shaped chedi with a tapering top, said to contain the tusks of Blackie Purple, Chamadevi’s famous war elephant.  Behind it, smaller and shaped like a bell, stands Ku Ma, the tomb of her swiftest warhorse.  Large images of elephants stand in the courtyard, while smaller ones, of elephants and horses, crowd the fronts of the chedis and the rear wall of the compound.
       These unique animal shrines are still venerated by Lamphun residents, who pray before them and leave offerings of fruits and flowers or another small elephant statue.  In the bushes left of Ku Ma, not easily visible, is a small shrine to Chamadevi’s cat.  To the right of Ku Chang stands another dilapidated little shrine to the queen’s rooster, whose morning crow could allegedly be heard for several kilometers.  Neither of these receives local devotees, yet Ku Chang and Ku Ma attract regular attention, for they are integrally part of Chamadevi’s cult. 
      Endorsing this cult, the city government back in 1982 opened a park dedicated to Chamadevi, just within the moats on the southwest corner of the old town.  A rather voluptuous statue of her stands at the north end of the park.  Behind it are several sandstone reliefs depicting periods of Lamphun’s history, from the founding of Haripunchai to the introduction of railways, flanked by statues of Blackie Purple and Chamadevi’s horse.  Lavish decorations fill the park on holidays.
Loy Krathong balloon
Salak Yom 'trees' at Wat Phra That Haripunchai
       Lamphun’s two major annual cultural events are Salak Yom in September and Loy Krathong in November.  Both center their activities on Wat Phra That Haripunchai.  In the former, a Yong community festival, people make artificial trees of offerings, the upper half for the monks, the lower half for the deceased, and carry them in a long procession to the temple.  They leave them there until next evening, when they distribute the offerings.
       For Loy Krathong, people float offerings in the river and moats in the evening, as in Chiang Mai.  But the biggest event is the launching of huge balloons the morning of the full moon day.  This takes place right next to the chedi.  Thus both celebrations climax on the grounds of Chamadevi’s former palace.  The shrine to her within the compound is busy those days, but attracting even more devotees is the altar beneath her statue in the park.  For her worshippers, Chamadevi is modern Lamphun’s patron and protector and a heroine unmatched by any other anywhere in Thailand.

larger than life--Queen Chamadevi and her subjects 
                                                                        * * *
      

       

Thursday, November 22, 2018

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 15th 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 14th 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 15th 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 16th 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
                                                                        * * *