Bangkok (Lonely Planet) - Andrew Burke [76]
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DREAM WEAVER
I was born in this village [Baan Krua] and still live here. Life is mostly the same as it was when I was a boy. Most of the houses are the same, though my parents did give one building to Jim Thompson when he built his house. Some people have moved out and people from Isaan have moved in, but about 60% are still original Muslim families.
People have been weaving silk in Baan Krua since the village was founded more than 200 years ago. Our ancestors came from Cambodia and the king gave us this land. Weaving silk was how we made money for a long time before this area became so… Oh God! So many high buildings! I went away for a year when I was 26, and when I came back there were many new condos. That has continued, and then there are the shopping centres… But not many people weave in Baan Krua now; we are the only original weaving family still weaving. The women are older, but this room and the looms are like they were when I was a boy and Mr Jim [Thompson] came to visit us every morning. The styles might be different, but the methods are the same.
Many people visit Jim Thompson’s House and sometimes they come to see us here. I don’t think they know that Jim Thompson started his silk business after seeing people like my mother weaving in Baan Krua. But we are happy to see them, they can watch us weaving the old way…and our silk is cheaper.
Niphon Manuthas, aged 62, is the owner of a traditional silk-weaving business in Baan Krua (see Click here).
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After 40 years of largely benign existence, the gilded plaster image was destroyed during a late-night attack in 2006. After smashing the image with a hammer Thanakorn Pakdeepol, a 27-year-old man with a history of mental illness, was immediately set upon by two nearby rubbish collectors and promptly beaten to death. A replacement was cast using parts of the old image, and today devotion is as strong as ever.
There is a constant cycle of worshippers seeking divine assistance for good luck, health, wealth and love. Most people offer marigold garlands or raise a cluster of joss sticks to their foreheads in prayer. The flowers are left on the shrine for a few minutes, before attendants gather them up to be resold. Not everyone goes for that, however – one ex-student told us how, in her university days, a Big Mac would be offered, left for a few minutes and then retrieved; why waste it?
When wishes are granted, the worshippers show their gratitude by commissioning shrine musicians and dancers for a performance. The tinkling tempo, throaty bass and colourful dancers are in marked contrast to the ordinary street corner on which the shrine stands, surrounded by idling cars and self-absorbed shoppers – though most of them will still offer a passing wâi (bringing the hands together in a prayer-like manner at chest level).
The businesses posted on the other corners of the intersection have erected their own Hindu shrines in order to counter and/or copy the power of the Erawan Shrine. This godly one-upmanship sees Lakshmi, the wife of Vishnu, standing atop Gaysorn Plaza while Vishnu himself is mounted upon Garuda at the Intercontinental Hotel. Another Garuda can be found in the Police Hospital, while Indra is appropriately placed outside the Amarin Plaza, beside the Erawan.
If your head is spinning, you could settle for crossing diagonally from the Erawan Shrine to the square outside Central World for a look at elephant-headed Ganesha – whose presence is no great surprise given his parents are Lakshmi and Vishnu. A little further north on the Central World forecourt is the Trimurthi Shrine (San Trimurthi), most likely included as a cosmic mediator between all these rival deities. This