“Until death do us part” has a different meaning in Thailand.

Every culture has a hierarchy of three things:  nationhood, family and religion

Having grown up in the US in the 60s, this hierarchy was like a close grouping of bullets over the heart – there was no real hierarchy just a bulls eye.  Gold star mothers gave their sons (and a few daughters) to the cause of nationhood in the religious belief, not just that God was on their side, but that the country was a force for good and stability in the world.  After all we had just been through World War II and now Russia was destabilizing Europe with its repressive Iron Curtain.  And because the religion of Communism was the worship of the nation, it was our nation against theirs.

The inability to see any separation between nation, family and religion was a reason why political disagreement use to always stop at our shores.  When events happened overseas, the US always acted as one.  Times have clearly changed and America has changed, too.  Religion for one thing is not the factor it was in 1960.  But right or wrong, I still ascribe to the idea that America should show a united front to foreign countries.  I may hang fire all over the auditorium about the wrongheaded failure of President Obama on domestic issues, but I refuse to criticism him on foreign policy.  “You think you could do a better job, go for it,” is part of this reluctance, but most of it is my retro belief in America as should act as a whole, as one people.

Other counties, however, that I know have much different hierarchies.

In Saudi Arabia there is no doubt that religion is at the top of any hierarchy and overwhelms family and nationhood.  Family, I would say, comes in at a distant second to religion, although strong tribal affiliation which is not what I mean by family - more like I am a Native American - blurs this.  For instance, I once visited the home on base of a high ranking naval officer.  When his eight year old daughter appeared, I said something like what a pretty girl and he absolutely ignored her and my reference to her.  If he hadn’t have spent years in the US, his religion would have mandated that he throw me out of his house altogether for such a comment about a female.  The third component, a sense of nationhood, is virtually lacking altogether in Saudi. The Saudis do have a national day (like our Fourth of July), but the celebrations are very muted and met with a collective yawn.   

Thailand is also different.

Religion and a tribal sense family share the top spot, but nationhood is fragmented between the urban rich and rural poor.  Nationhood in Thailand is still a work in progress and hard to place on any hierarchy.  But just as you are never far away from a mosque in Saudi Arabia, so too are you never out of walking distance of a wat in Thailand.  This similarity between the two countries, however, masks a striking dissimilarity.

Patriarchy versus matriarchy

Saudi Arabia is a patriarchy while Thailand is a matriarchy.  Only men pray at mosques in Saui.  Some mosques have small hidden galleries for women, but a woman prays at home is a safe generalization.  All Thai Buddhist men become monks (if money and other things allow).  If after leaving the monkhood, they return to the wat it is most likely as a monk.  My brother-in-law (a nice guy) has returned to his wat for two weeks or so much as a westerner might go on a spiritual retreat.  Here he essentially becomes a monk again.  He has is head shaved anew and dons the robes of monk renewing his vows   Women are the wat goers in Thailand and more so than women are the church goers in the US.   Men do go to wats on religious days (usually a couple of days a month), but women outnumber them.

The following is an aside about Saudi Arabia but on point.

[When I got a driver’s license in Saudi, the official DMV form wanted to know my name, my father’s name, and my grandfather’s name.  There was no block for that other parent person’s name.  Many Saudi young men that I met could recite the names of their fathers all the way back to Mohammed (PBUH).  I am not kidding here.  Now, I knew the name of my maternal grandfather’s name, but because my father never talked of his father, I did not know my paternal grandfather’s name.  My Saudi minder at the DMV couldn’t believe this.  He almost swooned and fell on the floor from disbelief.  I could almost hear him saying infidel! Infidel!  Finally, we settled on the name Frank.  My minder was relieved and pleased that I was not going to cause a problem or an incident.]

Go into a Saudi house and you will see the picture of the family patriarch in the place of honor (and never any female pictures).  Go into a Thai house and you will see the picture of the king in that same place of honor, along with family pictures galore.  The King is the titular man of the house – his birthday is the occasion for Father’s Day in Thailand.  Do you see any differences here?

Just as Saudis deem male names all important, the Thais really don’t care.  A Thai name can be either a male name or a female name – this can be delightful but maddening, too.  While we just use I for the first person singular, the Thais use pom (male) or chan (female).  In the third person, however, where we expect a he or she, they just use khow.  There is also a third sex in Thailand, called by many names, but essentially is a boy who has decided to live his life as a woman.  I find this group almost indescribable.   Saudi, I am sure, has more than its share of homosexuals, but I doubt there is a ladyboy in the country. 

Both the Saudis and the Thais like to pack people together tooth to jowl in a way that is just frightening to a westerner.  The Hajj may have over a million people packed into Mecca, and I think I’ve been in an alleyway in a shopping district of Bangkok with about as many people.  While the Saudis really only have two religious celebrations (Hajj and Ramadan), the Thais have three family celebrations in which religion plays a major part.  

Three Thai parties

The first two parties celebrate what I recognize as family and what I recognize as religion.

The Thais celebrate weddings and these are very much like western weddings.  They are expensive, high spirited, formal and good fun.  The Thais also celebrate a son going into a wat to become a monk.  In the west we often say that nuns are married to the church or to Jesus.  When a Thai boy becomes a monk, he often rides in the back of a pickup with his father supporting an umbrella to keep the sun off his newly shaved head.  I do not mean any disrespect here, but the new monk is dressed in what looks to me to be a very fancy, white wedding dress.  He goes into the wat and the next time you see him he is wearing a very humble saffron robe. The monks’ part in all Thai celebrations is to say prayers and get out of the way of the family. 

The third Thai party celebrates the tribe.

The third Thai party is the funeral part or nang soat – this is the one that drives me crazy.  The Saudis bury the dead within twenty-four hours and there is not much if any formal ceremony.  I saw a big post-hole digger in a Jubail cemetery (east coast of Saudi).  Bore a hole, wrap the body in white and stand the body upright in the hole, gather a very few family men to say prayers – and that’s it.  This works for royalty as it does for the rest of us.  It’s brutal, but so is death and I confess it makes sense to me as a man.

The Thais on the other hand take a least a week of partying, day and night, to get someone cremated.  I use the word party because that seems most appropriate even though there is no booze (there is music however).   Then, there is a party the day after and one at a hundred days . . . and on and on (or so it seems to me). 

When I was very ill I went into the kitchen where Chuwat (my wife’s 103 year-old grandfather and my friend) lay for his last few weeks.  I saw that an aunt (who I did not know) had laid him out holding some flowers in his hands.  She made a go-away gesture to let me know he had passed and I almost swooned . . . because I knew what was coming having been through the funeral of my wife’s father.  I swore back then that I would never be in the house having another funeral.  Luckily this time I went into the hospital for five or six days and missed the partying altogether.  

Women run the funeral parties.  It’s their chance to shine.  They cook for a hundred or so people five days in a row, breakfast and supper.   I’m not joking here, either.  The fact that most of the “mourners” don’t eat much makes no difference.

When I was in the hospital, my wife came to see me only once (that I remember) and then with friends and only for an hour or so.  She couldn’t stay and relegated that task to her eighteen year old daughter (someone from the family has to be with the patient at all times in a Thai hospital).  She couldn’t stay because she was the grand master of Chuwat’s funeral.  (Let me be clear: there’s something to my wife being the oldest daughter and therefore responsible for such things.  Also, her own mother, daughter of the deceased, was not up to the task.  I also realize that funerals in the west are equally quirky, but these rural Thai funerals are just too much.)  I chalk this extravagant display up to this being a matriarchal society unwilling to give up something which from time out of mind has been within the domain of women.

Last week, my wife’s aunt (she has literally hundreds of unnamed-to-me aunts) died in a town about a two hours’ drive from here and [BAM!] away she and her mother went.  They probably went because all the relatives were just down her for Chuwat’s funeral and not to go would have been an insult.  But they were needed up there to get things right, “donchaknow” (as my grandmother might say).  My wife’s oldest daughter went too, but came back with the car the same night.  She and her 18 year-old younger sister went shopping the next day.  This left me alone with the ghost of Chuwat for the next couple of days.

I, alas, am a member of the family, but not a member of the clan.  Until death do us part has a different meaning in Thailand.