On our first day in Chiang Mai we visited the Wat Prathat Doi Suthep temple at dusk. According to our tour guide, Wat Prathat Doi Suthep is the most sacred in Thailand and it is often full of tourists and visitors.As luck would have it the rain started pouring right as we arrived. This wasn’t some pansy-assed California down fall, no no, this was a full on, the gods are angry, the sky is opening up, buckets of water falling from the sky out pour. Faithful tourists persist, rain or shine. We persisted, with our umbrellas, and our rain jackets and our increasingly wet pants. At first we went around the temple to see a view of Chiang Mai. Then we walked across slippery paths and up slippery stairs to the second level of the temple.
Our guide bought us offerings. In this case they were things someone who died might need, you know like toilet paper and soup and toothpaste. (Andrew says I understood this all wrong, and the offerings were for the monks, who need things like toothpaste. I am sticking with my story) These offerings were prepackaged and already water proof. We went to a small room with two monks. We were instructed to present the older monk with our offerings, on our knees, no less. Being Buddhist is not a good idea if one has stiff knees, or, if, as Andrew found out, sore ankles. Still, despite what must have been considerable pain, everyone dutifully and respectfully made their offerings to the monk.
Then the guide asked us to touch each other so that we were linked. At this point, the monk prayed for us, and the guide told us to think of someone “past life” (that means dead) and pray. The monk chanted, the rain fell, our knees hurt. I could feel my dad’s hand on my back and my hand on Louise’s knee. It was a surprisingly spiritual moment. When the monk was done he tied a small band around all the men’s wrists. Since he can’t touch a woman he dropped the band into our hands and the men in the group tied it onto our wrists. Then we tried to gracefully exit. We failed at this a bit. Where are our shoes? Can I stand up now? How numb are my feet? We didn’t ask any of these questions out loud, but they all had to be answered before we could continue.
It was at this point that something slightly magical happened. Our guide apologized. He said he thought he had timed it better, but there were twenty minutes before the monks’ evening chant and we were going to have to wait there, in the rain, until it started. As it turned out those twenty minutes were precious to all of us. At first we looked closely at the different shrines. Then we took a seat on a step covered from the rain and just watched the temple. We chatted a little, but mostly we noticed the rain, and all those Buddha images sitting serenely around us. The temple eves were lined with bells which rang gently in the wind. 
At some point the monks started gathering as did other tourists. Temple workers came out and squeegeed the ground, wiping away the puddles. Finally it was time for chanting. We had to stand back and out of the way, but we got to watch and listen as the monks did their outdoor prayers.
Monks Praying at dusk from Kate Bedford on Vimeo.
Then the monks moved indoors. The guide said I could join them to pray if I wanted, or I could stay with the others outside and just watch. He also mentioned that the monks would be chanting for forty minutes and if I prayed, maybe that could be for only five minutes. I decided my knees felt pretty darn good, so I went inside and kneeled with the other visitors near the monks.
They chanted. I sat there and listened and then made big, broad wishes which could be called prayers. I was enjoying myself and enjoying the calm, but I realized the family was waiting for me. I also realized if I stayed down there too much longer I would just be showing off my bend-y knees and meditation sitting ability. So I stood up, tried not to wobble, and we began to make our way back down the stairs.
:-)
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