Loy Khratong

Tomorrow is the festival of Loy Khratong, where people ask for forgiveness from the water spirits by floating offerings--called khratongs--made of banana leaves and flowers on any body of water (though preferably the Chao Phraya River, and believe me, that thing has reason to be pisssssssssssed!!). You hold your offering, make a wish, and send it on its way.

During last year's Loy Khratong, I was having some difficulty adjusting to life in Bangkok. I was still living with my employers (which, to be honest, I've repressed at this point, and as far as I'm concerned, it NEVER HAPPENED), had not found my groove yet, was missing Peter terribly, and was just plain feeling like a fish outta water. Like something the disgruntled water spirits spat out. So I felt very compelled to make the traffic-infested trek to the river to float a khratong and make a wish, hoping that it would wipe my emotional slate clean.

Getting there took FOREVER. However, along the way I saw a lot of things I had never noticed before. An elaborate Hindu temple tucked behind some simpler facades. A place where I could buy German sausages. A fortune teller. When I got to the river, it was all MADNESS. Vendors everywhere were selling khratongs--each one more and more elaborate than the last. And, well, many of them were constructed with Styrofoam. Now, I'm not trying to sound judgmental, but I am of the opinion that asking for forgiveness from the water spirits by choking them and their various aquatic friends with Styrofoam is just NOT the way to go. I had to search for quite awhile, but I finally found a beautiful, colorful, BIODEGRADABLE one.

There were flowers and candles everywhere you looked. There were garlands of orchids and jasmine. There were people holding their khratongs with their eyes closed, making wishes.

I had somehow been swept with the rest of the crowd onto a boat that took me out into the middle of the river. The water was colored with flowers and leaves, and the boat cut a thick path through the fragrant litter. A surprisingly high number of khratongs had managed to stay lit, which was quite a feat considering the large ribbons of boat wakes that sliced the river to pieces.

I lit the small beeswax candle and joss stick that were lodged into my khratong with marigolds. I stared at the small flames for a bit, and then closed my eyes. "Please. Just let me make it to next Loy Khratong. Please give me the strength to wade through the difficult crap and get to the other side. I'm alone and overwhelmed and none of this looks like how I thought it would. Please don't let me give up. If I can make it to next Loy Khratong, I know that I will be a better, stronger person. Please just let me make it to the place where I will be able to look back on all of this with a huge sigh of relief, laugh at how difficult this all was for me, and be able to see how far I've come."

I set my khratong in the water, gave it the kind of tap a mother gives her child on his first playground outing ("Go on! You can do it!"), and watched it until the fireworks started and the bursts of misty color in the sky mixed with the solid colors in the water, and I hardly could tell which direction was up. I took a huge breath, and for the first time in awhile, felt that I was exactly where I needed to be.

And that's exactly how I feel on this year's Loy Khratong. The water spirits listened and granted every one of my wishes. And now I can laugh a little at where I once was, and how hard things used to be, knowing how far I've come.

But this year? I'm TOTALLY wishing for fifty grand......

*This blog entry is dedicated to Heather, a friend and fellow expat. Living overseas is a roller coaster, especially at first. But it will get better. I promise.