In the grainy gray light just before dawn, I stole from my suite at the Luang Say Residence and walked the silent streets to witness Binthabhat, the daily practice of giving alms to monks in Luang Prabang, Laos. I was conflicted over this event. As a photographer I desperately wanted to take photos of the spiritual procession but as a Buddhist I wanted to show my respect for the sangha, the community of ordained monks. I compromised, shoving my camera into my backpack. Before taking a single photo, I would participate in the alms-giving ceremony. By doing so I would join my Buddhist brothers and sisters in the belief that, at the very least, doing so would earn merit. At best, it might lead to a better next life or lessen the number of times I will be reincarnated before achieving nirvana.
My peaceful morning was shattered as I approached the edge of the historic district. Women rushed into a wooden shack lit by a single flickering bulb, loaded wicker baskets with sticky rice and spring rolls and bustled back out. They carried the baskets on long bamboo sticks hefted across their shoulders. One of them locked and loaded on me like a heat-seeking missile. Before I knew what was happening, she had spread a woven mat on the sidewalk, shoved me into a kneeling position, and slapped a basket of food in front of me. I looked up just in time to see the first procession of monks emerge from the gloom like a ghost ship on foggy seas. “How much?” I asked anxiously. “30,000 Kip,” she said curtly. (about $4 U.S.) There was no time to negotiate. The monks were steps away, already sweeping aside the shiny silver lids of their alms pots in preparation for receiving my donation.
Being careful not to touch their pots, I carefully dropped a scoop of sticky rice and spring roll into each as the monks effortlessly glided past. Just as I was about to run out of food my eagle-eye vendor artfully deposited a second basket at my knees. I didn’t miss a single monk’s alms pot. When the last saffron robed monk had disappeared from sight I pulled out 30,000 Kip, an obscenely expensive price for a couple heaps of rice. The woman shook her head. “You pay 60,000!” Apparently the second basket hadn’t been part of the deal. I stood my ground. “I did not ask for a second basket,” and handed her 30,000. Disgustedly she ripped the tattered bills from my hand, rolled up her mat, and headed off to find her next mark. I had expected to feel warm fuzzy all over after giving alms but instead I felt naive and used. Shaking off my disappointment, I pulled the camera out of my backpack. Now I would do what I do best.
Nearer the center of town, worshipers kneeling on mats stretched as far as I could see. The procession of barefoot monks bobbed and weaved down the sidewalk like an enormous orange ribbon. They deftly opened and closed the lids of their pots to they rhythm of the alms-givers, while dodging throngs of flashbulb-popping tourists, aggressive food vendors, and poor children hoping for cast-off items. Chagrined by the circus, I stood back deferentially and documented the event with a telephoto lens, thinking that I may not have earned merit by giving alms, but I was certainly doing so by respecting the sanctity of the Binthabhat ceremony.
Proper protocol for attending or participating in alms giving to monks in Luang Prabang:
- While Binthabhat has become something of a touristy nightmare, the reasons behind it are still genuine. Even if you have only two or three days in Luang Prabang, I highly recommend attending this alms-giving ceremony. But please do so with respect for the monks. Taking photos and videos is perfectly acceptable, however tourists are asked to do so from a respectable distance.
- All are welcome to participate in Binthabhat, however come early to ensure your place on the sidewalk and if you arrive late do not break through the line of monks. The procession starts around 6:30 a.m. and lasts for about an hour.
- The Lao PDR Government has begun to post signs asking tourists not to purchase food for alms-giving from the street vendors in Luang Prabang, as it is not only overpriced, it is of questionable quality. Instead, it is recommended that you ask your hotel to prepare food the night before, or purchase fruit and/or local pre-packaged snacks and biscuits.
- Wear suitable clothing, which includes a top that covers the upper arm and pants or skirt that falls below the knees. Lao also wear a hand-woven sash across the chest and over the shoulder; these traditional weavings are available for very reasonable prces and wearing one s a sign of respect for the culture.
- The best place to view the Binthabhat procesion is on Sisavangvong Road, between the National Museum and Vat Xieng Thong.
- Women should take extra care not to touch the monks, or any part of their clothing or effects, including the rim of their alms pots when depositing food, as monks who have contact with women must go through a purification process.
thanks soooooo much for your tips. I have been trying to find these unsuccessfully until now. i am going to see it tmr! 😛
This is something I’ve wanted to see for years, I remember watching a documentry a few years back where the presenter was one of the very few westerners around. I had no idea it had become so touristy!!!
Great post. I identified with the conflicting desires of respecting and participating in a tradition and “doing what you do best,” namely photography. Happily, I think honoring your gift constitutes a prayer and while I am not a Buddhist, isnt part of the practice acknowledging the the awareness of “Desire” and cultivating the ability to let it pass without judgement? I know all my Spiritual Opportunities involve lots of “Practice!” : ) It sounds like you got to the Sweet Spot!
Hi Meg! What a lovely comment. You are absolutely right; the four Noble
Truths of Buddhism teach that the way to end suffering is to eliminate
desire. I try to do that on a daily basis, turning my life over to the
universe, but it’s not easy sometimes. But I think I did pretty well in this
instance and watching the serenity of the monks in the face of all those
flash bulbs helped me to remain serene as well.
Wow – do you happen to know what goes into the purification process?
Not a clue, Erica, but I was told this on two separate occasions by men who
used to be monks, so I take it as accurate information.
Great post, Barbara. That’s too bad about the woman that sold you the rice, though!
Lovely travel blog
It’s really satisfying to see a blog on cultural travel, don’t see much of these nowadays. Love your style, and the comprehensiveness.
I totally agree about the atmosphere and the ladies selling sticky rice and bananas. I was rather disappointed by the whole thing.
Ok – I just watched the video after I left that first comment and I have to admit – my heart sunk. It’s like the paparazzi and it wasn’t that bad 4 years ago. I guess I’m glad I got to see it when I did. It amazes me how much of a circus it has turned into.
I loved this photographing this procession when I was there 4 years ago. It sounds like there are more and more tourists now which shouldn’t surprise me. I had two mornings there where I could learn where the best spots were for photography and then go back there the 2nd morning. I really suggest to try to stay off the main road though as that’s where tourists were, I really enjoyed winding further back and watching the locals hand out foot – it at least seemed more genuine. One thing I did notice though when I went further back towards the end of the procession is that some monks would throw away some of the excessive rice they would get when they were out of the site of many of the tourists. So I’m happy to hear that people are also recommending giving them fresh fruit and other things as they would get massive amounts of rice. Lovely pictures Barbara!
Marvellous photos, as always. I’d seen this in a movie previously, but had no idea about the tourists, though, it’s pretty safe to say that everywhere is now affected by tourism, I think. I was wondering how much those kids who are hovering end up with? The monks seem to get a lot, do they give freely to the kids?
Hi Linda: The poor kids who follow the monks seem to get a lot of castoffs.
In fact, I was very surprised by some of the monks who threw food that had
just been deposited in their alms bowls over their shoulders and into the
kids’ baskets. I wondered how that made the donor feel to see his offering
so rapidly discarded.
Even if the kids need it more, you’d think that the monks would be more considerate of the feelings of others, wouldn’t you. Whilst I have a great admiration for their lifestyle and wisdom I wonder just how cut off from “real life” they are?
That whole experience could have been off-putting, but it sounds like you handled it with your usual sense of grace. And thanks for sharing the photos!