Vegetarians Gone Wild

Dedicated to Joshua- 'The Violent Veg'

If I had to imagine what it would be like to be at the scene of a bombing, I now know what I would draw up:

It was a beautiful early morning. I woke up to the sounds of distant drummings and loud explosions. Wearily, I got dressed and exited the safety of the guest house. The street was lined with white and yellow shirts that glowed in the hot sun. A table sat in the entrance covered with a red silk cloth. On top were several kinds of fruit (pineapples and oranges primarily), candles, incense, and little cups of tea. As I peered down the street, my hand blocking the brightness of the sun, I came to count about ten other tables along the street all bearing the same gifts. These gifts were offerings to the possessed participants of the parade. If the owner of the table was lucky, one of these people would stop and bless them, maybe even drink their tea or give them a blessed pineapple.

I tried to find some shade to watch the parade as the sweat rolled down the crease of my back. I had heard about the Vegetarian Festival, been hearing about it since I arrived in Phuket Town. I even experience a little of it yesterday upon arrival with it's yellow flags waving in the slight breeze and the streets lined with booths selling all kinds of fried vegetarian treats. Spring rolls, coconut pancakes, fried fritters, noodles, and dough balls perfumed the air with the sweet smells of a fair. One only had to follow their nose to find the celebration.

The Chinese believe that on the ninth lunar month, if you abstain from all substances (meat, sex, alcohol, drugs), that it will bring you prosperity and good luck in the coming year. This celebration also embraces the nine Chinese Gods. Participants allow their bodies to become vessels and at any point can become, in a way, possessed. There are all kinds of rights performed at the temples including: firewalking, blade ladder climbing, dragon dancing, self-mutilation and more. The participants are protected by the gods from any scaring and bleeding from the mutilation and in the end, walk away not harmed.

With my back against the concrete wall of a cafe', I watched the beginning of the parade. People marched by with banners lined with switches from saplings, possessed beings walked along the parade path adorned in silk robes and multi-colored tunics, their heads shaking from side to side and their body all a quiver with a posse of five or six following close by. After watching this for quite some time and meeting back up with Erik, we decided to walk against the current to see what else was happening in the parade and along the streets leading to the five different Chinese Temples.

And that is when it happened. We took a left turn up the road and walked along the crowded sidewalk until we came to an open motorbike shop. The shop was similar to a two door garage, its motorbikes shoved far into the corners. This allowed for some standing room so Erik and I paused to survey the scene. All of a sudden a commotion broke out, and people were yelling and dashing into corners, hiding behind poles, other people, telephone booths... it all happened in a matter of seconds. My body was in slow motion. My brain was processing what was happening while my body slowly shifted to the right, rotating on my right foot and moving toward a corner of the shop. It's a bomb. What's happening? Why is everyone taking cover?I slid into the space, my head still facing the direction of the chaos, still trying to figure out what was happening. As I reached my spot I heard the explosions, my eyes locked with Erik's as he stooped along the perimeter, a grin across his face.

My ears were ringing with the constant explosions, and Erik's grin told me that it was okay. I fumbled with my camera, debating on whether to cover my ears or to take a picture. The crowd was dispersed and revealed a group of men, their shirts wrapped around their heads carrying a small box with an object inside on a kind of throne. It's four poles held by four men each cradling the figure of a god on top. Long bamboo poles entwined with strings of fireworks were being lit and held over the figure. Some dropped large clusters of fireworks onto the figure itself while the men bobbed up and down in a kind of dance. The eight o'clock sky darkened with the smoke making it hard to breath. I held my shirt over my mouth mimicking others. With the holes in the crowd, pieces of shrapnel came flying towards me. I was being hit by tiny specks of exploded fireworks. Luckily I still had my sunglasses on, protecting my eyes from the debris that struck my face. I was torn between saving my hearing and taking photos. As I was trying to do both, my ear pressed against my shoulder and the camera rotating in my hands, a Thai came and shoved a piece of cotton in my hand. Ah-ha, earplugs! I ripped it in half and half again, shoving the cotton into my ears. Now, hands free, I ran to Erik as he bobbed and weaved in and out of the smoky explosions. Offering him the other half of the cotton, he took my camera to get closer shots.

I stood back, coughing through the smoke with watering and stinging eyes. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. Hundreds of fireworks were being draped upon this figure and, in turn, on these men. People in the crowd were throwing their own fireworks at the image; the explosions creating tiny sparks of light in the greyish blue cloud. You could barely make out the throne and its carriers. Only their yellow or white covered heads would poke from the smoke now and again. The noise pierced my ears. The explosions burnt my shirt and onlookers dove into corners. I was transfixed to another place: I was in Cairo, I was in the New York subway, I was on a London bus, I was in Iraq. I was panicked and brave all at the same time. I wanted to run and to watch, to hide and to participate.

The explosions and bamboo poles continued through nine other gods and a procession of incantated beings, musical accompaniment, and marchers. My lungs and throat ached with the grey smoke that swirled in my respiratory system. We walked away, ducking through explosions back around the corner until we found shelter away from the storm that was the Vegetarian Festival.