These are from a ceremony where little boys become monks. For three days these 89 boys were lavished with gifts, and food and were carried around on the shoulders of their family members–never to have their little feet touch the ground. A whole series of roofed and elaborately decorated raised platforms–for dressing, sleeping, playing, storage, etc.–were erected in a U around a stage on which musicians, dancers, actors and comedians entertained literally all night long, to an amazingly engaged and attentive audience of hundreds upon hundreds of people. I was invited by the mother of one of my students, a 13 year old boy who–unlike many of the other boys who were only becoming monks for a few weeks in order to make merit, was planning on donning the robes for years, so as to be able to continue his education.
While there I was also able to spend time with a community leader with whom I had often worked (frequently over a bottle, or two, of rice whiskey) and another one of my students, who was the senior monk organizing the proceedings. Farming families save up money for years to pay for their sons to complete this honor, whose price tag–including multiple hand-made highly ornamented costumes (made by another one of my students, the local tailor), extensive decorations, countless cases of soda, and enough food to feed all of the extended family who come and stay for the whole three days–must be astronomical. I will never get the repetitive beat of the Shan drum and cymbals out of my brain; the music that brought men to dance in circles with costumed little boys on their shoulders.
