A few months ago, a friend invited us to Jitima to attend a ceremony during the Kathina (Thod Kathin (ทอดกฐิน)) period, one of the important religious festivals that mark the calendar each year in Thailand. This ceremony takes place in the period following the end of Buddhist Lent, an annual monastic retreat spanning three lunar months and ending around October/November. This period lasts for a month and its end coincides with the Loy Krathong festival.
The main feature of the kathina for laypeople is the offering of a new robe to the monks. Traditionally, it's even a piece of fabric that's offered, which is then transformed into a monastic robe overnight. While the entire village participates in these celebrations organized by the temple, individuals can also organize a procession, especially when the donation to the monastery is substantial. It was precisely this procession that our friend had organized, and we were invited to participate. Since we obviously didn't get to choose the location, we went to Wat Nong Phang Tru (วัดหนองพังตรุ) in Kanchanaburi to attend this event, which we had never actually participated in since I'd been in Thailand…
The origins of Kathina
Let's first examine the term "kathina," which comes from Sanskrit, although it could also be attributed to Pali, another ancient language used in Buddhist traditions. As such, kathina refers to the frame used to stretch fabric for sewing. It is sometimes mentioned that it refers to the fabric itself, but this specific meaning of the word explains the origin of the name of this festival, also celebrated in Cambodia, Laos, Myanmar, Sri Lanka, and even Indonesia (notably at Borobudur on the island of Java ).
Every year, monks go on a monastic retreat the day after the full moon in July, called Asanha Bucha. This day commemorates the day when the Buddha gave his first sermon following his enlightenment. The following day, Khao Pansa, marks the beginning of the retreat, often (wrongly) considered Buddhist Lent. The kathina is the period following this monastic retreat, the tradition of which dates back to the time of the Buddha.
It is mentioned in a Pali canon that a group of thirty monks were trying to go to Savatthi (in India), in order to spend the rainy season, during which the monastic retreat takes place (from July to the end of October/beginning of November), with the Buddha. Unable to reach there in time, they had to stop for the period of 3 months before continuing their journey, not without always having to deal with pouring rain.
Arriving soaked at their destination, it is said that Gautama Sidhartha (the Buddha) immediately comforted them by providing them with a new wardrobe, in addition to temporarily exempting them from the strict rules of monastic life. It is known that the period of monastic retreat was followed by a month of making new robes, carried out jointly by the members of the community, and that the relaxation of a few rules was simply in order to facilitate the work of preparation.
In any case, the tradition continues, although nowadays, the robes that can be donated daily by the laity are normally enough to cover the clothing needs of the monks, but this tradition of making them together helps to unite the community. The tradition of the robe made in one night is said to come from the one woven by the Buddha's own adoptive mother (his maternal aunt, Mahaprajapati Gautami, who became the dean of the nuns).
Meet at Wat Nong Pang Tru
Now that you know the origins, here is the schedule of the day. From an organizational point of view, we had arrived the day before to visit a little, and the ceremony took place the following morning. The meeting was concretely in the parking lot of the school adjacent to the temple (which is very common in Thailand).
It's important to understand that this type of ceremony isn't always held, as it's the devotees who request that the kathina be organized. The temple abbot then sets the date, in agreement with those making the request. The procession itself depends on the size of the donation, and on this particular day, it was a large procession of very generous people.
The first step, besides obviously greeting the organizers – which involves the obligatory souvenir photo – consisted of making a donation by slipping a note on the boat-shaped structure which will then be paraded around the temple with all the participants.
30 minutes passed before the band started its first notes. The procession began to form. The organizing couple took their places on decorated wooden carts, pulled by cows wearing a collar of bells and colorful pompoms. The trainers proceeded to the last rehearsals of the marching movements of the horses that would also accompany the procession, the latter being unmounted and therefore purely "decorative".
The Kathina ceremony
Here we are in the thick of it. The procession, joyfully accompanied by the band, represents a group of about fifty people, including friends and family plus those who supervise this procession. Concretely, from the school parking lot to the entrance of the temple, there are only 220 m to cover, but with this world and the festivities that have also started in the temple with the locals, it's a bit congested.
We are then on the road, a local order service managing the traffic, less on this small secondary road fortunately and the locals remain accustomed to seeing this kind of event, even if it undeniably attracts attention, which is also a bit the goal. Because indeed, in Thailand, practitioners believe that the person or people financing or sponsoring a procession during the kathina, thus acquire a lot of merit, seeing them parade on a public road implies pride for those who are at the center of attention and a kind of admiration in return for the people who attend this event.
It's better to see it in video (animal lovers, sorry about the horse):
By trampling all the way plus a few stops, the time to let a Chinese dragon do its show right in front, it will take no less than 20 minutes to cover its 200 m and finally enter the temple grounds. It is then packed with people, fortunately the virus was not yet actively circulating in the country (the 2nd wave would not arrive until a few months later).
Obviously, all eyes are on the couple arriving "triumphantly" on their respective carts, which they must now leave to join the viharn around which they will parade with the other locals who also come to leave offerings at the temple on this festive day. And in Thailand, a festive day means food galore, made available free of charge to all participants or even just to the curious who come to admire the entertainment punctuating the life of their village. I don't know in this case who between the temple or the villagers finances this feast, but it at least benefits everyone, including the poorest who benefit this day from a good meal for free.
The procession itself is then dispatched, because we have to wait our turn to parade around the ubosot crowded with locals and many donations. It is time for us to grab a little something to eat. Obviously, there are not many foreigners around so a lot of looks are on me, however, I am used to it and they are not inquisitive looks so it does not bother me. As we had not had breakfast and it had already been 1h30 since we arrived, the meal was quickly devoured.
While waiting for "our group" to do the 3 regulatory laps around the ubosot (ordination room, recognizable by the steles surrounding it), Jitima and I observe the fervor of the other people parading with each their fabric (even if nowadays, it is common to offer a "ready to wear" monastic robe since they are generally found in supermarkets...). In addition to the robes, the donation in the form of money remains the most common, and for the kathina, it is often presented in the form of a "tree" and is part of the parade.
We return to the boat-shaped structure, where our tickets are placed upon our arrival. Instead of being in the shape of a tree, it is a boat, but the function remains the same, to allow these gifts to parade around the building before being presented to the abbot of the temple during the next part of this ceremony. At this point, I admire the fanfare that has been playing continuously for almost two hours, some people taking advantage of this festive atmosphere to sketch a few dance steps.
It is then 11 am when the time comes to join the interior of the main prayer hall, the viharn. It is still empty when we sit down with Jitima and one of her mutual friends who had joined us with her husband for this special day. I notice that each post is attached to a banana tree which serves, I imagine, as a donation for the gardens adjoining the temple. The hall is quickly filled with the many faithful who have come that day, in less than 10 minutes, the room is full and the collective prayer with the monks can begin.
About 20 minutes later, the monks' chants end and everyone starts lining up to place their offering at the feet of the monks. It's all well-organized, with behind each monk, a volunteer from the neighboring village to stack these many orange robes, to which are added other more classic donations such as cleaning products and basic necessities or food/drinks.
Again, it only takes about 20 minutes after which people go out to eat if they haven't already. Inside, it's time to take the notes out of their respective trees or boats and do the accounts. Money is not taboo like it is back home, a profusion of liquidity in full view of everyone remains completely normal. So normal that we will even know the amount collected that day, and this, without counting the important donation to the base made by the initiators of the procession. For the curious, the temple collected more than a million baht that day, or more than €27, not bad for a small local temple!
Basically, these financial donations are used to maintain the temple in good condition and incidentally to make extensions, the constructions then allow to give work to the villagers. In absolute terms, if the temple is already well maintained and no constructions are planned, the budget surplus is generally distributed to those in need.
