Blog 8 - Feasts and something else that rhymes with feasts. And isn't beasts

Celebrated Chinese new year in proper Thai style... don’t think to hard about that statement. With an early start we turned up to the minibus park with mixed feelings. We had no idea what was happening and how the day would turn out.

Not a great start to be honest, the minibus left without us, forcing us to walk up a busy motorway to try and catch a bus. Luckily, the hosts were driving past and picked us up, saving a heck of a long walk. This is where I was introduced to Lun and Sam – the couple that were running the show. We arrived to their house slightly crushed, Mattias and I are both of a height – I know for a fact my knees seized up. Still, great first impressions – a beautiful house, a fusion of Thai and Western style. I know that sounds like a wankey architecture student bullshitting his way through finals, but it was a stunning place. A traditional Thai entrance, with a minimalist approach that was a contrast to the marble counter-top, mugs of coffee and plush sofa adjoining a lavish study. I had my first taste of “Cereal”. Breakfast in a mug!! Well, in theory.

It tasted decent, I could see myself living off it in uni. Then again I can see myself living off moisture licked from park benches at uni if it pays for a train to Kent. Imagine own brand porridge, watered down significantly and with roughly a plantation’s worth of sugar added, another of Thailand’s running list of “FUCK YOU’S!!!” to diabetics. I could compile a month’s worth of blogs with those.

Still, filled the hole where a stale bread roll and crappy butter didn’t quite satisfy. When I arrived, we were greeted by a traditional Chinese celebration, kinda like something out of Mulan. Four shrines to the ancestors, one for each direction and each laden with food. And whisky, as Sabine attended to.

And when I say laden, I mean buckerroo just before he kicks. Whole chickens and ducks, bowls of rice, peanut brittles, sweets and a mix of soft drinks for the non-alcoholic ancient spirit. Ironic really. We then proceeded to each one, lighting and planting incense as we went. As well as instructing the ancestors on what to eat. Personal recommendation – the duck was fantastic. But more on that later.

We then retired to the house for a while to let the incense burn down completely – then the fun began. Lun is Thai-Chinese – a relatively common mix in this part of Thailand. So we go by Chinese rules. And that means fire, lots and lots of fire. They burn symbolic wealth for the ancestors, in return for it to come back to them in the real world. So, we burned gold boats, paper clothes and a metric fuckton of fake money. £10,000,000,000 notes were the staple, with a few paltry $10,000s thrown in with a smattering of fake gold coins. Apparently Lun’s brother burns a brand new Mercedes Benz every year. For you doubters – he’s able to buy a new sports car every year – he can’t be doing badly. If I become a multi-trillionaire in the next few months, I can thank the Asian ancestors I never knew I had. That was fun, anything with fire is fun. Well, except for the Vietnam war.

Then, we settled down to feast. All the food must be eaten, so I grudgingly complied. Roasted ducks, boiled chickens, stir fries by the wok, buckets of rice and bowls of fresh fruit. The duck was cooked to perfection, the chicken was succulent, the stir fry full of flavour and crunch and the sauce was the best I’ve ever had. And I’ve had a lot of sweet chilli sauce. We settled down to honour the ancestors. And I did seven platefuls of honouring. Then the fruit had to be eaten, half a melon, a handful of lychees and three bananas later I considered the ancestors honoured to the brim. Though, Lun loaded us down with bags of peanut brittles and couple of portions of poultry and a selection of fresh fruit.

 This was only about half of it

My pathetic attempt to justify the marathon gorge now follows. In many Asian cultures – Thailand included – the best guest is one who clears a plate and asks for more. Ergo, I was the greatest guest, I cleared probably half the table. Also Thai food is impossible to get fat on. I didn’t get the disgusted bloaty feeling one gets from Western food.

However, what eclipsed the food was Lun herself. She was a truly amazing woman. A UN care worker for roughly 27 years, she’s one of the most talented in Thailand. She spent her early years helping Laos residents out of their war torn country. Considering Laos had a Socialist uprising that remains to this day, that’s quite a feat. She’s spent time in Africa founding healthcare camps and refugee sanctuaries. Then, she told us of her mother. Diagnosed with bronchitis and lung cancer, she was given a week to live. Lun prayed to Buddha, got an answer and stayed with her mother, sacrificing a $70,000 job in Africa. Practically living in the hospital, her mother lasted three years, dying near the day she was first diagnosed.

As after dinner speakers go, she outranks Tony Blair any day. Also, she liked my Trilby hat. What a woman.

So, we left, and it wasn’t even lunch time. Who’s up for a pad-Thai?