Far up in the hills of the Golden Triangle, in the Mae Chan region of Chiang Rai Province in Thailand, there is a temple where the monks do their morning alms rounds not on foot, but on horse-back, and where kickboxing (Muay Thai) practice is as important a part of their daily routine as meditation and chanting the sutras.
The temple is home to a number of nehn (young novices), many of them Burmese refugees, most of them orphans; a few monks and nuns; about 200 hundred horses and a scattering of elephants, cows and buffalo. How it came to be there reads like the plot of one of those Chinese folk stories: you know, the ones where the heros are fast and smart and pure of heart; where the villainous powerlords bully defenseless villagers; where warriors, cloaked in black, scale walls and descend into fortressses under the cover of darkness; and where anyone can take on demon form and fly through the air to engage in hand-to-hand battles of epic proportions.
Almost fifty years ago, so the story goes, in the northwestern-most corner of Thailand, an ethnic Tai Lue woman desperately wanted to have a child. She had already lost five babies in their infancy, and so she went to the ancient Lanna temple on the nearby mountain of Doi Tung to pray to the Buddha image there and ask for assistance. Some nights later, she dreamt that a white horse came and carried her away – for miles and miles. Shortly after, it was confirmed that she was pregnant.
The child, Samer Jaipinta, was a fussy baby, crying all the time, so the parents consulted an astrologer. The astrologer told them that the child was “not normal” and needed an elephant and a horse as guardians. Naturally, Samer’s farming parents could not afford this, so his father drew pictures of the animals above the door of their home and taught the child that these animals were his friends and protectors.
Samer took up Muay Thai at thirteen. Inspired by the warrior spirits of the fighting cocks his father raised, he became a champion fighter, who, according to one report, only ever lost three fights out of the hundreds he entered. He studied law in Bangkok, but gave up to join the cavalry when his father died. By age thirty, he was married, with children, and about to challenge for the Muay Thai world championship, when he gave it all up to go to fast and meditate, sitting on a rock in the forests of Mae Sai for 15 days. Wasps nested on his body: “It was as though they were my teachers. Each time I couldn’t focus, they would sting me.”
He ordained as a monk, underwent four days of ritual and protective tattooing and spent the next six years travelling through those mountainous border regions, providing pastoral care in an area where people, gems, arms, and drugs slip through the jungles to and from Myanmar. He witnessed first-hand the impact of violence, fear and drug addiction on the mountain villages in the wake of the wars between the drug lords. He founded the Monastery of The Golden Horse, giving a home to young boys who might otherwise end up as recruits in United Wa State Army. He teaches his novices Muay Thai in addition to more usual dhamma teachings, and together they ride out into the countryside, educating people against the dangers of drugs, and using their martial arts skills when required.
The morning alms collection at Wat Pra Aacha Tong is "Unseen" anywhere else in Thailand.
... make these quiet monks invincible.
Protective tattoos plus Muay Thai...
Sandle-clad monks in the saddle.
One of the fabled white horses keeps watch.
Alms Rounds
The horses get their breakfast; I have never seen horses eat corn-on-the-cob so daintily!
These women have travelled from the other side of the country to pay their respects.
Little Nehn (Novice)
Muay Thai, like other Asian martial arts, has a strong spiritual component.
Lone Pony
After the alms rounds, the morning dhamma talk, with prayers, is conducted outdoors.
People come from near and far for morning prayers.
After prayers, faithful swap hundred-baht notes for twenty-baht notes that have been specially blessed.
A beautiful smile comes with the blessings.
The twenty baht notes have numbers deemed to be lucky.
The wat (temple), unlike most, is not ornate. Phra Kru Ba Neua Chai, as he is now known, persuades the locals to put their money into schools and orphanages and teachers’ salaries, rather than into elaborate temples.
He was not there the morning we visited in October, but his positive energy was all around us. By all accounts, he is a striking man, doing his bit for his corner of the country.
I like stories with a happy ending. ‘Till next time.
Fantastic, you’ve managed to share with us places most will never see and describe them in such a way one almost feels as though they were there…thank youReplyCancel
[…] first markets we visited that day were local ones. After “making merit” with the horse-riding monks early in the morning and visiting the Royal Mae Fah Luang Gardens at Doi Tung, we stopped to […]ReplyCancel
Tan Beng Huat -May 16, 2015 - 4:32 am
Dear Monks,
I am very ill with depression. Can you please perform
some rituals to cast out the demons in me.
Thank you.
Regards.
From: Tan Beng Huat.
Malaysia.ReplyCancel
Hi AJ,
I’m not sure if these monks train anyone other than their novices – and most of them don’t speak or read English! Still, there are plenty of good Muay Thai gyms around Thailand, so it’s not hard to get started. 😀ReplyCancel
Jesline Teh -May 14, 2017 - 1:41 pm
Hi, we will be traveling from Bangkok to chiangrai by air. Is there a local agent that can arrange to bring us to wat pra archa tong?ReplyCancel
Hi Jesline,
Thanks for the visit! I’m pretty sure any Chiang Rai travel agent will be able to get you there. We visited as part of a day tour in the area. Enjoy!ReplyCancel
There is something special about being a “visitor” instead of a “tourist” when you are travelling: getting a glimpse into the real, everyday lives of ordinary people, rather than the “show homes” set up by tour operators.
Portrait: A Rural Khmer Family, Proyyut Village, Cambodia
Let me introduce you to an “average” rural Khmer family: Mum and her four children.
I met Sony, the eldest of the four siblings, the first morning I visited Sandan School. She’s a bright girl, and was lucky enough to be chosen to attend the Jay Pritzker Academy (JPA), an American school which provides free schooling, uniforms and materials to about 365 students in the local area.
Fourteen-year old Sony is a student at JPA.
Sony is delightfully self-possessed and easy to talk to. Her schooling may account for some of this: JPA’s vision is to be “the best school in Cambodia and competitive with the best schools worldwide” while keeping students integrated with their local communities and cultural values. Her English is excellent, and we were able to chat about a range of topics: from health, education, and social issues in Cambodia, to the country’s history, and her personal plans for the future.
I later discovered that Sony’s youngest sister, Nana (age 5), was one of the students I had focussed on in the Sandan School first grade classroom.
Nana Sweeping
Nana and her classmates at their first-grade classroom window.
Nana in the Classroom
As part of the photo-tour I was participating in (under the guidance of Karl Grobl, Marco Ryan, Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon), I was expected to create a photographic essay with another group participant. We wanted to focus on one student: at home and at school. Having Sony as our guide and liaison made this possible, and we arranged to visit Nana and Sony at their home in a neighbouring village.
It was raining the first afternoon we went to visit. When we turned off the last bit of asphalt and onto a slippery red dirt road with potholes big enough to swallow our tuk-tuk, our driver showed serious reluctance about continuing. Sony had given him directions, but we still had to stop several times to ask for directions. There were no signposts and the lots were not numbered.
The family lives in a bamboo house on stilts, next door to a similar house on the same farming allotment, belonging to a member of their extended family. I was grateful I was wearing plastic shoes: there was no “driveway” – the houses are reached by picking your way over the least-wet patches of ground.
Sony and Nana's home in Proyyut Village, Cambodia.
Corrugated iron house on stilts: no windows, ladder entry
Rusty corrugated-iron house siding.
Auntie next door, with her baskets. The red marks on her forehead are from hot-cupping, a local remedy for headache and other ailments.
The families grow rice for their own consumption. As Sony said: if they sold it, they would not have enough for next season’s planting. Auntie owns the land. She makes baskets which she sells at the local market for 100 reils (KHR) each: about two cents American. Sony and Nana’s mother also weaves baskets when she has finished tending the rice and other crops. She has been widowed for three years now: Sony and Nana’s father died of stomach problems in 2008, leaving mum to manage on her own. Sony still finds it hard to talk about him, but showed me the shrine with his picture in it in a corner of the “living room”.
Mum at Home
Gran lives close by. She came over to get a look at the strangers.
Nana and her sister at home: a hammock under the house.
Nana’s middle sister Srai Ranoch is in grade four at Sandan School. Her class attends in the afternoons, while Nana’s is in the morning, so they are not actually in school at the same time. They are fortunate to have Sony at JPA because it relieves some of the financial pressure on the family. Even though schooling is free, each child is expected to contribute towards tests and materials. While this contribution is small, it represents a huge proportion of the meagre family income. Their brother, who is thirteen, dropped out of school three years ago to help Mum with the fields. Sometimes he is able to earn a little money helping the neighbours.
Nana and her brother
Cousins: Foreign visitors are uncommon in this little village, so the cousins next door have come over for a look.
Nana dancing with her dog.
The second time we went to visit, the sun came out, and with it came even more of the neighbouring children. They all led us on a wonderful excursion through the rice patties and fields that comprise their back yard.
Cousin up a Tree
Getting fresh coconut for the visitors.
Afternoon rainbow in the rice fields.
Blue Toad
Summer Rice
Worker tilling the rice fields
Girl in a rice field
Bringing in the cows.
Time for a chat: Sony, Nana and their cousin take time out.
End of the day: afternoon on the rice patties.
We were grateful to Sony and her family for letting us visit, and giving us an insight into their lives.
I hope they both continue to study hard and build a better future for themselves and their family.
Hi Lisa and Signe!
These people have such sadness in their pasts and difficulty in their presents, but they still make it so easy to make pictures around them. It was a joy to visit them. 🙂ReplyCancel
Thanks, Sanan!
It’s great to have your company for the trip. 🙂ReplyCancel
lissillour -October 18, 2013 - 2:46 pm
A very moving testimony of the reality of life Cambodge.Chaque family has its own story more or less happy, but this country has a very difficult to forgive recent history.
But Cambodians are very intelligent and hardworking people.
Thank you for this story that I for one am also on FLICKR.ReplyCancel
Coming into School in the Morning – Sandan School, Cambodia
Cambodia is a youthful country with a sad history.
One third of the country’s 15 million people (32.2%) is under the age of fifteen (July 2011 est.).
Given the genocide perpetrated by Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge between 1975-1979 when two million Cambodians were killed, it is not surprising that less than 4% of the population is 65 or over. During the Khmer Rouge regime, educated people were targeted in the name of “agrarian socialism”. Thousands of teachers were amongst those executed after the fall of Phnom Penh in 1975.
So, the education system had to rebuild from scratch, along with the rest of the country’s infrastructure, and this could only start properly after the end of the civil war in 1990. Today, there are a lot of children – and still too few educated adults. This puts a lot of pressure on the country’s schools. On average, students stay in school for ten years, attending half a day of classes (four hours), either in the morning or in the afternoon, six days a week. Those who can afford it also attend evening “tutoring” classes. A number of parents told me that many teachers put all their energy into these tutoring classes; they said that teachers ignore the curriculum during their normal classes so that students have to pay the extra if they wish to pass the exams. If true, this is disappointing, but, given teachers’ pay scales and work loads, not terribly surprising.
I’ve visited Cambodia a number of times in the past to participate in an annual professional conference for the local teachers. This latest trip, however, was for me – I was there with my camera and with four gifted professional photographers: Karl Grobl, Marco Ryan, Gavin Gough and Matt Brandon. Still, I couldn’t resist visiting a local school, to see what was happening.
Arriving at School in the Morning – Sandan School, Cambodia
As you’d expect, the schoolyard in the morning is a lively place. Children arrive early: on foot, on oversized bicycles, ferried by their older siblings, or piled onto motorcycles or scooters driven by parents on their way to work. Children buy snack food from local vendors. They sweep the rooms and the yard, and unstack the desks in the classrooms. The boys play tag or marbles in the packed-dirt yard, while the girls skip or play a local version of Jacks on the veranda – all before the bell rings at eight o’clock.
Boys flicking marbles. The object seems to be both distance and knocking your opponent out of play – like curling or boules.
A good marble-flicker shows off his winnings: a collection of cat’s eyes.
Young girls playing a game resembling jacks with coloured bits of plastic.
Skipping elastics on the verandah.
Fancy Footwork
Sweeping the yard? These boys aren’t very focussed, but the job got done.
No shoes indoors!
Preparing for the day: young girls sweep the verandah.
First-grader with her snack-in-a-baggie.
Too young for class : Younger siblings hang around the classrooms.
Kids love the camera! The camera loves kids!
Boys – waiting in the classroom.
The teacher is here – the class is ready.
(Recorded classroom sound-bite)
Learning letters and spelling rules
Kids in the Classroom
Careful work. (When was the last time you saw a chalkboard?)
Checking Answers
Proud of his work…
“I think it is correct.”
Flashcards hang along the ceiling.
Children are expected to pay for their classroom tests and materials.
End of class… until the afternoon children arrive.
End of the school day… except for the extra tutorial classes.
It is always a joy to visit Cambodia. In general, the people are gentle mannered, softly spoken, and welcoming. The Cambodian teachers I’ve met at conferences have always been enthusiastic participants in the papers I have presented and the workshops I have run. They have demonstrated a real thirst for input and a willingness to learn and improve. The teachers I interacted with at this little local school were similar: overworked and underpaid, but enthusiastic, energetic, and trying to do the best for their pupils.
The social infrastructure of a country tells you a lot about its values. Good education, like adequate health care, is, in my opinion, the cornerstone of social justice in a community. Education (which may or may not be the result of good schools) is important to a population’s future, and even more critical in developing countries where the pace of change means that children will have to make choices about how to merge traditional values with international possibilities.
Although international aid accounted for about half the national budget in 2010, Cambodia spends only about two percent of its GDP on education. Schooling is free to students; perhaps the government thinks it is free to them also.
Unfortunately, you often get what you pay for.
The teachers and children in these schools deserve better.
This is lovely, almost a story book quality to its sequence. Your hard work is evident; you have created a reflective and warm series of images.ReplyCancel
I have to agree the camera loves kids, and how could it not, those fresh faced young people and deservedly proud of their work. We here do take our education for granted and whilst I will continue to fight for equality for our public school students vs our private schools, our children do get a great deal in comparison and sadly (although almost expected) resent the drudgery of attending day in day out… bless those young minds and those who struggle in difficult circumstances to get the basics through.ReplyCancel
I agree that good education and adequate health care is the cornerstone of social justice. Our children are our future – where ever we live – and I hope these little ones do indeed have a bright future. Wonderful images.
Excellent photo essay Ursula. I visited Cambodia several years ago. For a country that has been through so much, the people are wonderful and welcoming. Your post has got me thinking that I should return!ReplyCancel
Hi Kevin,
I’m so glad you enjoyed it. You’d love a photo tour! I can’t recommend Karl Grobl’s trips highly enough (bookings through Jim Cline). I know Karl (with Gavin, Matt and Marco Ryan) is planning another trip next July. 😀ReplyCancel
[…] met Sony, the eldest of the four siblings, the first morning I visited Sandan School. She’s a bright girl, and was lucky enough to be chosen to attend the Jay Pritzker […]ReplyCancel
Patrick Gallagher -July 28, 2013 - 3:27 am
Another nice job, Ursula. I feel as though I was there. I visited some small rural schools in Buriram when I was a Peace Corps volunteer in the mid 1970’s and they weren’t much different than this one you captured so well in your photographs and words. Thanks, for sharing.ReplyCancel
Thanks for the visit, Patrick!
It is sad, in a way, that things have changed so little since the 70’s. The children in these rural schools are delightful, but it is hard to know what educational opportunities they actually have.ReplyCancel
Ha Ha, John!
I, on the other hand, was bad at marbles, and skipping, and all those other non-book-related pursuits. Playgrounds were agony! 🙂ReplyCancel
Do you ever have those times when you get so busy you almost forget to breathe?
In a country like Australia, you get used to covering a lot of ground to get from A to B and to C. Since arriving in Sydney from Bangkok a week ago, I’ve spent most of my time in a car. My husband and I are in a ‘transition phase’: living out of suitcases and trying to tie up a lot of loose ends in different places, in what never feels like enough time. I get quite breathless.
Having both hands gripped on the wheel has meant I haven’t spent time taking pictures, let alone sorting and processing them. But, as I’ve driven along winding coastal highways, clinging to cliffs above the ocean; over twisting mountain roads in rain and hail; and across dirt tracks and tarmacs in the middle of rolling farming lands, I’ve had the company of my thoughts – and some good ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) radio.
The radio reminded me that: not only is it Remembrance Day (also known as Poppy Day, Armistice Day or Veterans Day) in Commonwealth and other Allied countries to commemorate the official end of World War I – “the war to end all wars”; but at 11:11 in the morning, we have the only date with a 12-digit palindrome comprised of a single digit: 11:11:11 on 11/11/11. Numerologist call it a “high vibrational day”, which is meant to be a good thing.
In any event, it is a good reason to stop – and breathe – and reflect on those who have fallen on foreign shores.
Wild Poppy: Remembrance of Days (and Wars) Past
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch – Be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though
poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
– Captain John D. McCrae, 3 May 1915, Flanders
WWII Remembrance: Australian Infantry Corporal, W.W.Wood and his Headstone, Kanchanaburi Thailand
Agreed on several counts, good Aussie Radio ABC…time to breath but mostly a pause for thought, in our case on how lucky we are to live as we do in the most beautiful of countries, enjoying many many freedoms and a lifestyle the envy of nearly all… at 11am I will stop the phones, I won’t make it to the war memorial here in Liverpool, but I will pause, I will remember and I will give thanks to the all to many who died making all I said before possible… lest we forget.ReplyCancel
Good morning, Signe.
I must say, I’ve had my dollar-a-day, or whatever it costs, from old Auntie ABC this week! I put over 3000km on the rental car, and most of it with quality listening. 🙂
Hard to believe how lucky we are, isn’t it? I also find hard to believe that “we” don’t learn – the conflicts continue.
(I fixed the noted spelling error.)ReplyCancel
I guess learning from our mistakes becomes someone elses problem… buck passing at its worst. thanks for fixing envy… and Aunty does keep us informed and mostly without rhetoric of the commercial stations.. and little political bias.
see you soon I hope…ReplyCancel
Hi Anna,
Nice of you to visit! Sad that nothing seems to change.
I popped into your site – nice work! I was born in Broadgreen, Liverpool. How’s that for a small world? 😀ReplyCancel
[…] Day, Memorial Day, or Armistice Day) was a big deal, and we all learned and recited the poem “In Flanders Fields”, written about that war by Captain John D. […]ReplyCancel
After bumping along narrow Cambodian roads into oncoming trucks and buffalo carts for what seemed like a very long time, our bus pulled to a stop on the shoulder in the middle of nowhere. Our Khmer guide assured us we were at the back entrance to Beng Mealea, one of the less-visited temples of Angkor.
Mr Chhor, our guide, tells the history of the temple which we cannot yet see.
We had to take his word for it: aside from a small dirt path leading into the overgrown jungle, we could see nothing. The air hummed with heat and mosquitos as we photo-tour participants and our leaders Karl Grobl, Gavin Gough and Marco Ryan tumbled out of the bus and onto the sun-baked earth. We applied industrial strength mosquito repellant – the kind that eats leather and melts nail polish – before following our guide along the stone and dirt track into another place and time.
The clawed feet of some mythical creature lie in wait for us.
The jungle has been allowed to reclaim Beng Mealea.
Like Angkor Wat, Beng Mealea was built during the reign of Suryavarman II, that is: between 1112 and 1152. It followed a similar plan but was smaller – with only a single story. Today, the jungle has truly taken over: the central tower has collapsed, and many of the outer buildings are crumbling. Trees arch over the site, vines and aerial roots wend their way around and through what is left of the walls. The ensuing shade allows moss and fungus to coat the walls and rubble and with a patina of greens.
Moss adds a patina of colour to the delicately carved stone-work.
Mighty fig trees work their way through the temple walls.
Some work is happening here, although I couldn’t tell whether the workers, who made themselves busy when they saw us coming, were engaged in restoration or simply keeping the site clean.
With a smile for their "audience", workers strain against the heat of the day.
The colours and textures of the ruins...
Delicate greens and grays ~ Beng Mealea
Balusters falling in the windows.
Many of my companions found the site boring because there were few people to photograph. I, however, loved the dappled light through the tree-tops, the textures of the mossy stones and old walls, and the serene quiet of the site.
Lines and curves ~ moss and stone.
A jumbled tumble of mossy carved stonework covers the inner-temple floor.
The delicate floral carvings on the fallen masonry have survived the intervening centuries.
Roots and vines work their way around the old stonework.
We were told that this site was used to film scenes from Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, as a “stand in” for the similar and better known Ta Prohm. I can find no corroboration for this, but it is easy to believe. I could imagine Lara Croft working her way through the long, dark chambers and emerging from behind the hanging vines. At one point, I thought I’d found her…
Our guide explains the construction of the temple.
… but, alas, it was only members of my group.
As we left the grounds on the side where most people enter, afternoon storm clouds were gathering over the lotus-filled moat. Cows grazed and hawkers raced over to sell us scarves and drinks.
Magic afternoon ~ the rains will soon be here.
Home from the fields.
And there we were – back in “modern” rural Cambodia.
it must be an amazing feeling standing in places with such rich history and wonderful colour… I guess your companions didn’t feel the history the way you do… thanks for sharing it.ReplyCancel
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
Really lovely post Ursula – a great story! Thanks for sharing.
Fantastic, you’ve managed to share with us places most will never see and describe them in such a way one almost feels as though they were there…thank you
Greetings, Signe and Lisa!
So nice to have you along for the “ride”. 😉
[…] first markets we visited that day were local ones. After “making merit” with the horse-riding monks early in the morning and visiting the Royal Mae Fah Luang Gardens at Doi Tung, we stopped to […]
Dear Monks,
I am very ill with depression. Can you please perform
some rituals to cast out the demons in me.
Thank you.
Regards.
From: Tan Beng Huat.
Malaysia.
I am very sorry to hear you are unwell. Good luck with your recovery.
[…] https://www.ursulasweeklywanders.com/travel/mounted-monks-wat-pra-archa-tong-chiang-rai-thailand/ […]
hello Ursula,
I was wondering how i would be able to get in touch with the monks and do you think they are willing to train people in Muay Thai?
Hi AJ,
I’m not sure if these monks train anyone other than their novices – and most of them don’t speak or read English! Still, there are plenty of good Muay Thai gyms around Thailand, so it’s not hard to get started. 😀
Hi, we will be traveling from Bangkok to chiangrai by air. Is there a local agent that can arrange to bring us to wat pra archa tong?
Hi Jesline,
Thanks for the visit! I’m pretty sure any Chiang Rai travel agent will be able to get you there. We visited as part of a day tour in the area. Enjoy!