Witches Convention in Lopburi

part 1

Strings vibrate, while high pitched yowls form a primal mantra signalling that Thai and Hindu deities have found a vessel tonight on this Asian form of Hollow Eves.

Annually, following the first day of Buddhist Lent in mid July when the full moon is overhead, Wat Tum Phratart in the foothills of Lopburi erupts into a mass seance.

'Hissssst,' pierces the evening air, like a cat in its death throes. It's a lady in her 50s possessed by a spirit. They say she's the medium of Shiva, or is it Vishnu? With all this hissing, she could be Medusa. Last year, she had a suitcase with daggers that she kept rubbing with perfumed oil.

I ask her fellow participants what spirit's she's possessed by, suspicious that she's neither Shiva, Vishnu, or Medusa. The answers are conflicting. "She's the monk with a cow face" says one local, pointing out her facial features. Another said she was a palad kid [penis]. As in any other profession, jealously amongst spirit mediums is rife.

Though marginalized by mainstream Buddhist practices, the Thai occult is flourishing. Thai believers have long sought out spirit mediums as oracles, to read their future and cure any ailments. The Witches Convention may have been drawing small numbers of spirit mediums, but according to Bangkok owner of 'Amulets' at Peninsular Plaza, Krisorn Suksomsabai, there are over 100 000 practicing spirit mediums in the kingdom who are popular spiritual supplicants for believers.

Public interest in this annual occultist evening has skyrocketed since Metro, a local listings magazine, ran the first piece on it in the English press last year [metro 83]. As with the Wat Bang Phra Tattoo festival, another event lurking on the fringes of Tourism of Thailand -sanctioned cultural happenings, the Lopburi Witch's Convention is slowly gaining momentum among journalists chasing the Thai freak show circuit.

This year insiders are expecting a bigger turn up. Over the last two years attendance of spirit mediums has doubled yearly. The auspicious forecast is that this year over 100 mediums are expected to psychically bond under the same roof.

Lopburi's already famed for another bit of Thai cultural curio: the Phra Prang Sam Yod 'monkey banquet' held every November, in which the town's famous primates are treated to a swanky fruit buffet. Steeped in Hindu iconography, the festivals pays homage to Hanuman and other deities - locals believe that Vishnu and Hanuman reside at Wat Kung Ta Loa, a ninth century Khmer temple inhabited by monkeys. But at the Witches' Convention, held 30km outside the monkey-infested town, the Gods come to life through humans.

With media interest on the rise and wider coverage of the Lopburi spirit mediums, Phra Chariot, the 89-year-old head abbot of Wat Tum Phratat, has cause for concern and celebration A spirit medium himself, he's conducted annual seances for mediums since 1960, when he saw an elephant walking up the 100 steps of the cave to die at the foot of a Buddhist statue -an auspicious sign that Ganesh had blessed the temple.

Journalists have been generous with Phra Chariot and donations are welcomed to cover expenses of running his modest rural temple. Don't expect much merit, however, if your donations are in coinage - unless those are in the red( 500 baht note) and gray zones (1000 baht note)which flows directly into temple's account and are acknowledged above as holy ticks in the leger books of tumboon(merit making) . Last year, an Italian reporter handed over a crisp US$100 note, asking, "is this enough?"

Though Phra Chariot's pleased by more attention and donations, he urges writers not to misinterpret the event, as it's publicly damaging to portray his temple as incorporating black magic into Buddhist practices.

Phra Chariot's specifically eager to distance the infamous ex-monk Nain Ae from the convention. Nain Ae allegedly roasted over 1000 stillborn babies to conjure up the spirit of the kumon tong [Golden Baby].

The legend of the Golden Baby dates back to Sunthon Phu's classic 19th-century story Khun Chang, Khun Phaen in which the story relates how the baby spirit was harnessed through mummification of still-born babies. A movie on the protagonist, Khun Pan, was recently released in the Kingon. And while Nain Ae was a monk he capitalized on the widespread belief of the Golden Baby. It was a huge religious scandal, and, to rub salt into adversaries' wounds, the sorcerer recently opened up a well-received black magic school upcountry.

"He's not invited tonight," says Noppadon Kraisak, a 28-year-old high school teacher and tonight's vessel for the Golden Baby. She's been attending this event for the last ten years. "It's strictly for white magicians [and] clairvoyants and psychics can get in tune with their spirits," she says. "Believers can consult us for spiritual healing and ask advice for the future."

Five spirit mediums are impersonating King Rama V- one of nine Kings of the Chakri Dynasty, with the present king Rama VIIII being the longest reigning monarchy in the word - and are zealously chewing on bettlenut and imbibing whiskey. King Chulalongkorn (1868-1910) as he is also referred to helped modernize the government along Western lines and abolished slavery; and during his life time he was partial to a drink and a smoke, making him doubly popular with celebrants. I'm curious if this act is considered less majeste, so I ask a Bangkok police captain donning an ornate golden elephant mask - he's Ganesh apparently. "I'd have to arrest them if any one filed a complaint," he says. But nobody ever complains.

The action's accompanied by bright lights, giving the event a theatrical element that encourages the mediums to ham it up. Any self-respecting medium's seen the 1960s movie Kon Song Jow (The Spirit of the Gods). In fact, a simple reference to the film induces a respectful wai to the believer's amulets.

The cave, where the founding bull elephant reputedly died, teems with bats overhead while stalactites jut down in the dung stale air. You can only see two feet ahead, and in the inky darkness of the cave, humans appear as awkwardly-moving black bulks, and easily mistaken for the spirit of Ganesh.

One Canadian, claiming she was a witch from the steppes of Winnipeg, came to last year's convention decked out in a black dress and flaming red her - a contrast to the 50 spirit mediums dressed in holier-than-holy white uniforms. Apparently, she freaked the mediums out, and some of them actually demanded she leave. One relayed the message that "she was a bag of bad energy," and that her aura was telling the spirits to "back off."

The show kicks into full swing when a medium rocks himself into a trance, accompanied by drumbeats and a string band orchestra. His eyes roll back into his skull while he switches into spirit medium mode and lights ten candles. Failing to swallow the flames, he butts out the candles, like oversized cigarettes, on his face, with wax melting down his cheeks.

Whispers shot amongst the spectators that a 12th century General who resides in one of the City's monkey temples was paying a visit through an over-weight Lopburi business man for the first time to the event. After 15 minutes of playing a large gong, the one arm General who is showing off his luscious folds of fat from the hip up - he apparently lost an arm in a famous battle against the Burmese which explains why his other arm is hidden behind his back - was joined by three young female consorts who seductively go through the slow rhythmic movements of the rum, a traditional Thai dance used to conjure up spirits at temples around Thailand.

The weird factor has definitely been turned up a few notches over the years. "It's all about the music man," says one dreadlocked Japanese reporter who's been splifing and swigging cheap whiskey all night in an effort to get possessed in other ways.

He wasn't the only one who was looking for levitation. Squawking and flapping ensue. Garuda's looking to take off, until one devotee grounds him by placing a B100 note in his mouth.

An old lady wearing a sombrero claiming to be King Taksin, famed for moving the capital city from Ayuthaya to present day Bangkok after in invasion of the ancient capital city by the Burmese, waves a sword around with the grace of a samurai while puffing on a big cheroot. She begins serious psychic bonding with another female medium who also claims she's the 'real' King Taksin. Both ladies are sucking hard on cheroots, which enshrouds them in halos of smoke.

In between graceful thrusts of the menacing looking sword, the older lady takes a swig of 40 proof rice whiskey from her canteen while holding her ground. She's sloshed and swipes at the thin air separating her and the younger lady. "I'm the real one," says the old hag in a belligerent tone. The head monk deftly settles this bickering. He gives them both a good douse with holy water and a prayer to prevent any bloodshed.

Not to be outdone, Ganesh rises to the occasion, "I'm an elephant, I'm not a human," he screams. "Come over here," instructs the head monk, explaining that there is a spirit healer who can cure bad backs. I willingly volunteer.

"Take your shirt off", says the unctuous man who is wearing bottleneck glasses. The medium digs into his bag for something, maybe massage balm. Right... wishful thinking. He pulls out a hunting knife, sharp and glistening. He's the loose canon tonight.

Now I'm lying on the floor with my bare back exposed. The last time I flashed my back was when I received a tattoo from a monk who etched them with two-foot skew and ink made with snake venom. His irreverence to his subject matter was comparable to an abattoir production line and I was wondering if this medium would fare any better.

While chanting spells to expunge the pain from my back he raps a hunting knife down my spine. Flashes are going off. When that doesn't work, he knees me in the back a few times for good measure. Then he snaps out of his trance and falls hard to the ground.

There's no denying that this enigmatic gathering is like a shot of 40 proof rice whiskey and is bound to lift the spirits of even the most cynical witness. Before the event becomes commercialized and crowded like the other Thai festivals, don your holier-than- holy white out fit and experience the Lopburi witche's convention which conjurers up its own ghoulish charm.

Ends

text/fotos © thomas brecelic 2002