Going with a bang..

Whilst yours truly was spending some quiet time in a little town named Champasak in Southern Laos it was made known to me that there would be a burial on one of the temple grounds in the evening. Thus I gathered myself and lo and behold, by the time of nine in the evening the temple was surrounded by devote and less devote onlookers, a shrine containing the departed one was build in the back, and people were praying and bowing heads whilst the monks chanted holy words. Despite of the fact that there must have been over a 1000 people, some say several thousands, it was a calm and serene happening. That was up until the abbot friendly asked everybody to make room, at let 10 meters from the shrine, and nearby a fire engine agreed with its short whooping siren, as to emphasize what the Abbot truly meant. And so it was, people stood up, pressed themselves into the crowd behind them and room was made. Striding in their orange robes, monks went about their business, and their business it seemed to me was to gather all sorts of arrow shaped objects and put fire to them. Sure enough, Chinese shops must have made a good profit that day, for soon the whole backyard was in flames, firework whizzing by and putting the resting place of the revered Athjaan who was to be set free that night in flames. Shrieks and screams from both the fire arrows and the crowd as a couple of fire fountains were set alight simultaneously. The effect was one that would make both the rolling stones and U2 feel like their shows were hopelessly unspectacular, and chaos ruled for a full minute as drops of fire fell from the sky and on people's heads, yours truly's camera and on the plastic covers that were erected over some donations at the side of the temple. As I felt something burning its way trough the hood of my sweater (I am so glad I decided to wear that thing against mosquito bites even if it is a bit warm at times) I decided to stop taking pictures and join the others. I ran. Maybe I also gave out a shriek yell, who knows, when in Rome, do like the Romans, as they say. And then as the shower of sparks was replaced by a drizzle of... well, probably a drizzle of pure Mekong water, as the firefighters did their best to spray the plastic covers and the roof of the temple. Of course they didn't neglect the crowd, who was eager to react with sounds of relief and pleasure, as if one found himself in an aquapark. All the while he fireworks kept banging and whizzing and by now the fountain of fire had been replaced by flowers of red and yellow in the sky as the shine was being consumed by purifying flames. What a way to go. Those monks know how to build a party. The main advantage of believing in Nirwana and reincarnation meant that their beloved Athjaan would be ascending the sky and either come back in a higher version or have attained nothing at all and thus be truly freed from any dukkha. So no reason to wail and whine, the revered man had done what had to be done in this life, all there was left for us bystanders to do was look in awe at the open air cremation and later on to enjoy the joys of the more earthly carnival that had set up behind the temple grounds. As I walked back home I could hear the local popstar giving his best while bottles of Laobeer where being relieved of their contents faster than the fire arrows had flown over our heads earlier on... When they party in Laos, they party good style, I says you. Sabaai dii folks!