The stipulation of me being able to move into this house was that once a year my landlords would move back in for a week for an annual merit making ceremony and festival. Well, this was the week, and quite the week it was. I was told that 700 people would be attending this big event and 50 people from Bangkok would be sleeping in my house. My house is big, but 50 people is a little ridiculous. And ridiculous it was.
The days leading up to the ceremony were full of preparation. My front porch was the place where all of the gifts and merits would be placed, so my house was covered in decorations. Grandma Next Door and I watched 2 men assemble a stage with Las Vegas style lights outside of my house (because of these lights, my room glowed green for 2 days and nights). She just laughed her crazy old lady cackle and said "Lots of people are coming." She was right.
Each evening earlier in the week, I would sit with the neighbor ladies and chop and prepare food. As I sat on the ground outside, being eaten alive by mosquitos, cutting up mushrooms, a sense of calm came over me. It was really great to be included as one of the women. I felt like I belonged for one of the first times.
Anyway, everyone in my village kept asking if my "friends" had arrived yet. They arrived on Thursday morning around 6am. My landlord was yelling my name and as I opened my door, I saw a stream of people getting off the bus and heading toward my house. They flooded my house and they just set up camp on straw mats all over my house. Kids ran all over the place, old ladies slept, nnd there was a line to use the bathroom. It was so overwhelming to watch the breakdown of my house. I had moved all of my posessions into my bedroom beforehand, but it's a bit disconcerting watching people inquisitively examine my jar of Peanut Butter and container of pasta. Apparently no one informed them that they were staying in the foreigner's house, so as I stood in line to use my bathroom, people would stare at me oddly and ask what I was doing here. I would respond that I in fact live here, this is my house.
There was a lot of sitting around, a lot of listening to monks talk, and A LOT of music. I woke up on Thursday morning at 4:45am to muisc blaring and the gonging of the gong that literally vibrated throughout my house. To add to all that fun noise were very lard fireworks that sporadically went off throughout the day and night.
I convinced Beau to come and see the ridiculousness of it all for the big night. There were 2 stages set up and apparently the singers were famous, although I wouldn't know. Food vendors were set up along the streets and there were even carnival games. Beau tried to win a stuffed animal by popping balloons with darts, but no such luck. I was in complete awe and amazement that this was my village. My village was truly transformed into a hopping party with people everywhere.
By today, I was ready for my "friends" to leave. The last ones finally left around 2pm. Once I closed my door, I just stood in my mess of a house and took a deep breath. The past few days were just so ridiculous that there was no choice but to go with it, but now that it's over and I think about it, all I can say is whoa. I'm proud to say I survived this week. I deserve some kind of award. I guess this goes to show you never know what's going to happen in the Peace Corps. Some day someone will ask me to share a funny experience from Thailand and I will say, "Well this one time 50 people moved into my house..."
Photos...
* A lady sleeping next to the propane tank for my stove in my kitchen. Thai people really can sleep anywhere.
* My porch covered in decorations and gifts for the merit making.
* People were everywhere
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