Self-Mutilation and other Delights of Old Phuket Town
One of the most bizarre and, indeed, shocking events I have witnessed in my travels through Thailand has to be that of the Chinese Vegetarian Festival in Phuket Town. An experience, I must warn, not for the faint-hearted. It is a barrage of profound proportions both on the sensibilities of sight and of hearing, as well as that of the credulities of the mind, itself.
It is a hot, humid morning in mid-October, and I sit in the Chinese restaurant on Phang Nga Road, within the old part of the city. I watch, reassured that I am at a suitably safe distance, as the grotesque but compelling spectacle unfolds outside.
The Chinese people parade past: bare-chested men with knives, flowers, small branches and various other implements, all incredibly skewered right through their faces from cheek to cheek; other men horrifically slashing their tongues with swords; beautiful girls dressed in white waving serenely, as if totally unaware of the sadomasochistic practices around them; children loudly banging gongs and drums, while others brandish banners displaying large Chinese script; and, older boys trundling carts onto which deafening fire crackers are thrown. One man walks by with spikes protruding from all over his body, looking like a human porcupine. The fire crackers become more numerous and even more deafening, and I have to shield my ears.
There is, however, some modicum of method to all this seeming madness. The festival is an annual event held during the ninth lunar month of the Chinese calendar, and its accompanying sacred rituals, as perverse as they may seem to the western eye, are believed to bestow good fortune upon those who religiously observe this rite. It is said, by some, that the festival was brought to Phuket by a wandering Chinese opera troupe, who fell ill from malaria while performing on the island. They were, subsequently, cured by devoting their affections and prayer to the Nine Emperor Gods of the Taoist faith, while maintaining a strict vegetarian diet. Whether there is any truth in this story or not, the seriousness of the bloodcurdling practices enacted in the name of this faith is not to be denied.
Along the length of Phang Nga Road, local shopkeepers have set up little altars outside their premises, offering flowers, fruit, and nine tiny cups of tea to represent the Nine Emperor Gods. The trance-induced Taoist mediums - the ones who, apparently, do all the piercing - each drink a cup of tea as they pass by, while also taking some of the flowers and fruit, which they expertly spike onto their bodies, giving them the ever-increasing appearance of walking kebabs.
The celebrations continue well into the evening, with the local temples and shrines crowded with Chinese, Thai and westerners alike. Fireworks illuminate the night sky and Taoist devotees pray and dance with dedicated exaltation. Seeing the happiness and camaderie amongst all these people of different cultures and backgrounds, I think that, maybe, a bit of indulgent self-mortification cannot be all that bad.
