“Make a little bird house for your soul” or “How I came to behold the glory of Fanta!”

By western standards, the Thais could be considered a superstitious bunch. Not unlike a good portion of earths’ population, they’re a big believer in spirits etc. which seems to be slightly at odds with the true teachings of Buddhism when you think about it. Anyway, the Thais believe that there are spirits that reside and look over property. Whether it be in a financial district or your own yard. It’s like having a spiritual gardener that doesn’t actually do anything about the overgrowth of weeds. And yet these poltergeist property managers must be compensated. Therefore the Thais have resigned to erecting sann phi wat, or Spirit Houses on almost every property in order to house them. From the city shopping mall, to the abandoned hut in Buriram, these spirit houses can be seen all across the country; like giant birdhouses, the likes of Donald Trump or Hugh Heffner would have erected on their estates. Gaudy versions of Thai designed temples, they are ostentatious in appearance but not by intention. The purpose of which is not to house the numerous Mynah or finches, but to offer an adequate crash pad for the guardian spirits of your property…you know, so they don’t hang out with you in your house - kinda like what we do to our grandmas and grandpas. In order to lure the freeloading spirits away from the “lavish” amenities that most Thais live with in their homes, one must erect a spirit house, paying heed to its correct placement on the lot (you know, feng shui it, and all that good stuff) then have it blessed by someone holy, then finally you need to keep the spirits with an abundant supply of the sweet bubbly nectar that is…Fanta. Pop the top on the bottle (typically orange flavored) and let the good times roll! Now I’d be remiss if I failed to state that spirits cannot live on Fanta alone. It’s only one of the crucial ingredient needed for keeping the spirits in good…spirits. Daily offerings of assorted accoutrements are placed all around the little verandas of these structures including, but not limited to: incense, fresh-ish flowers, candles, glasses of water (apparently spirits are very thirsty), ribbons, oranges and other fruits. Also sticky rice and dried fish aren’t out of the question. In addition they’re usually crammed with miniature figurines that represent the guardian spirits and their family…I think. They’re like dollhouses for the afterlife. More opulent houses have little statues of monks, Thai dancers, Oxen, horses, monkeys etc. it’s like a 3-D version of The Sims. If we had these things in LA, you’d probably come out one morning poised to make an offering of fruit and flowers to the spirits and find a homeless man crammed inside your spirit house, drinking yesterdays Fanta.
When it’s time for an upgrade, you can’t just chuck these things into the trash and get a new one. You have to deposit your used spirit house under a special tree located at a Wat or some other chosen place, in order to assure that that other spirits will then look after it. This begs the question: where does the spirit of the spirit house go? Is there a spirit house for the spirit houses’ spirit? Okay maybe it doesn’t beg that question, but what a business opportunity! I should start making spirit houses for the spirits of spirit houses. I don’t even think I would have to do much convincing as to the validity of such a bogus idea. And the slogan would be:
“Let your spirit house’s spirit be spirited away into the new spirit house for the spirit weary spirit house.”
Anyway, I do take comfort in the fact that the Thai spirits are content with such humble offerings. I mean sure they have to have their own little house to live in, but aside from that they’re not very demanding. Just some water in a bowl, some marigolds a candle or two, a splash of Fanta and they’re good. Thank god…or Buddha or whoever that they don’t seem to care for saffron powder. I guess that makes them similar to our dead. Some flowers every now and again on the graves usually suffices. But even if you have a fully furnished spirit house, it doesn’t mean your spiritual work is done. You need to keep a healthy dose of Buddhist images and alter-ish stuff in your house, car, wherever you can get away with it. Dashboards are popular places to dump religious whim-whams. There’s seldom a dashboard or windshield void of at least a sticker of Buddha, or some monk wearing glasses. Flower wreaths hanging from rear-view windows are a prerequisite. I think they’re issued with drivers licenses here. During a quick trip on a jitney home from Siracha, I observed such an alter set up on the front dash of the bus consisting of the ubiquitous glass of Fanta, a tin bowl containing an orange, sticks of spent incense and a plate of dried fish. Strange that even in death, the spirits of Thai people retain their proclivity for combinations of fruit and fish.
Now the real question is: was this a legitimate blog entry, or just an experiment to see how many times I could write the word Fanta? But more important, do to a flash thunder and lightning storm, the power at the plant has gone out. This means that the air conditioning units have stopped working. This means that my sweat glands have started quite an intense level of output, causing my wrists to stick to my computer, from which its output of electronically generated heat can now fully be appreciated. In short, it’s hot as hell in here now and I can write no more. And you’re thinking to yourself, “Thank god. This entry wasn’t very interesting to begin with and it only got worse as it went.” What can I say? My brain is starting to boil. The heat is a persuasive and formidable force against which I am powerless. I will now waste away to a puddle of perspiration on the floor - until a Frosty The Snowman moment comes, and the AC kicks back on, issuing a blast of cold air resurrecting me. But if I say “Happy Birthday!” someone smack me.