A Thai Birthday Tradition

You know what's more difficult than waking up early for work after a late night? Waking up even earlier. Alas, such was my task when Jiu, one of my Thai mothers, magically grew a year older in a day.

As she usually does when she comes to my apartment to pick me up at some ungodly hour, she called first to make sure I was awake. I'm always awake when she does this, even if I am staggering around like a zombie. But, as usual, I was in the shower when she called, so I couldn't answer. When she arrived 20 minutes later, I had to convince her that yes, I'd been awake, and no, I hadn't forgotten her birthday. Yes ma'am, no ma'am.

Jiu, Nid and I went to Ubon's big market by Mun River to begin a Thai birthday tradition. It's a tradition I suspect has become less common over time, probably for the fact that you have to wake up earlier to do it. Oh, who am I kidding - Thai people are so good at waking up early. Sometimes when I wake up, between the people bustling in the streets and the throbbing heat, I feel like it's already midday.

Anyway! So we were at the market.

At the market

We were there simply to buy some live fish, eels, and a turtle. Naturally, being surrounded by so much food, Nid got side-tracked and disappeared for a while. She eventually came back with three giant plastic bags full of fruit and a proud grin across her face.

Anyway! So we were buying living creatures.

Buying living creatures

The lady filled about two plastic bags of fish and eels each. The eels kept squiggling around in an attempt to get free, but it was a lucky fish who managed to flop its way to the ground, flapping itself across the concrete. With a bored sigh, the lady tossed a small bucket over the top of it with pinpoint accuracy, dragged the bucket back, and flicked the cheeky fish into the bag. Then she reached down, plucked up an unsuspecting turtle, dropped it into another plastic bag, before tying a knot in it. Trapped.

Jiu loaded me up with the plastic bags. I was acutely conscious that I was carrying living, breathing animals in them. On top of that, I worried that I might accidentally knock them on something. I don't think Mr Turtle would appreciate having his head bashed against a passerby's knee.

On the way out, Jiu bought a lottery ticket for the three of us. Lottery tickets are a big deal in Thailand - supposedly the government's way of helping the poor. Yeah right. Though at least selling them provides a handful of jobs... Alas, it was up to me to choose which ticket we should all get. One ticket in particular was staring at me the whole time. I bought it from a kindly dwarf woman and her friends went crazy - I guess farang don't buy them here too often. Loaded up with a feeling of luck, we took our new wares to a temple further up the river.

Concrete steps fell away from the temple buildings to the water, where a floating pier awaited us. We bought two loaves of bread, three packets of brown pellets, and incense sticks, before following them down to the pier. We bust open the bread and the pellets and tossed them into the river. Suddenly, the waters came alive with hundreds of writhing, hungry fish. I remember doing this very activity when I was a kid. There are some simple things in life that remain fun no matter how old you are, provided you have a keen sense of fun. From all appearances, Jiu - who turned 55 - was having the time of her life. And why wouldn't she be? She was with two of her favourite people, enjoying a fun activity together, and it was her birthday.

The next stages were more serious, but no less interesting. We lit the incense, knelt on the concrete steps, and chanted a Buddhist prayer in Thai three times. Nid would read each line individually, and Jiu and I would repeat, as smoke from the burning incense streamed past. Kids from the temple school above us perched on the concrete barriers, watching with bird-like interest. They must see people do this tradition every day, but I doubt they would see many farang, if any.

Finally, it was time to say goodbye to our new friends. Jiu started us off, opening a bag of eels and sliding them into the river. The poor things were a bit stunned, but it didn't take them long to slither out of sight. She did the same with a bag of fish. It took them a bit longer to realise they were free, but it seemed to hit them all at once, and in an instant, they were gone. Nid released another wave of fish. A good deed for good luck.

We saw one group of people releasing a cage of birds. It was nice to see the birds fly free... but did he really have to shake them out like that?

I took a bag of eels. Jiu took Mr Turtle.

I could feel the eels squirming through the plastic in my hands. It was like they could sense what was coming. They slid out of the bag as slippery as seaweed, gazed around at one another, and then they were off. Jiu placed Mr Turtle in the water.

He sank.

Straight down.

Oh, it was almost such a tragic end! Releasing the turtle was supposed to wish Jiu a long life. But what chance is there of that if the turtle is dead?

A twitch in the water. A flick of fins. And then, slowly - very slowly - the turtle swam away. We cheered.

We spent a few moments exploring the temple, which is one of Ubon's oldest, before heading to work.

I quite liked this weird lion. It reminds me of the geckos that stick to the walls of my apartment, waiting for insects.