The Best Funeral Ever

First a story...

(Molly?)

I left my fingernail clippers on the table downstairs last week, and I'm pretty sure my host mom did something with them. But I don't want to call attention to the fact that I forgot to pick them up, so I don't want to ask her for them back. My nails were getting really long, and I didn't know where to go to buy new ones. And I didn't really want to spend money for something I already owned.

Anyway. I went to a funeral with my host mom the other day. The dead man was a principal at a school not far from here, and apparently he drank a lot. Death is an interesting thing here. Nobody seems too concerned. Funerals are a common, and often lively, occasion. I don't know if it has to do with their religion's view of death, or the hugely-inclusive family atmosphere. (How much does it really matter when you have 800 other villagers in your family?)

Anyway, the funeral was at a temple. But not just any temple...Monkey Temple! (No, that's not the official name.) So while everyone else is listening to monks chant and people speak in Thai (both get old after the first 10 minutes or so), I watched monkeys try and steal decorations, climb on the temple buildings, and play together.

Then they gave us small souvenirs at the end. Nail clippers! Luckily my elation at this funeral didn't stand out too much, as everyone else seemed to have a pretty good time too.

I'd add pictures, but they're still on my camera and I don't feel like dealing with that now. Another time maybe.

Love,

Alex