What’s up with
the mystical Buddhist tattoos of Thailand?
Brendon
Hong Dec 5, 2015 EJ
Insight
It
pays to start early if you’re doing Bangkok’s mystical Buddhist
tattoo tour.
The journey
starts at the Victory Monument junction where you can buy a ticket
from a vendor outside a 7-Eleven store.
You can’t
miss her. She is the one behind cans of Nestle espresso stacked
high, presumably as fuel for a long day.
An
hour’s ride leads to a highway where a footbridge across the road
saves having to pick your way around an obstacle course and an
assortment of vehicles trying to beat the chaotic
traffic.
Now
you’re safely on the other side.
Motorbike
drivers will whisk you to the next leg of the journey for about 100
baht (US$2.80).
They know
where to take you. You’re heading to Wat Bang Phra, a temple on the
outskirts of Bangkok, about 50 kilometers west of the Thai
capital.
It’s a shrine to Theravada
worship. There, university students
make offerings for better grades and families pray for safe travels
and secure futures.
But
its biggest attraction may be the monks who
create sak
yant, a form of mystical tattoo popular in Thailand but
also practised in Burma, Laos and Cambodia.
Depending on the
design, yant is said to
bring power, protection and fortune.
During World
War II, Thailand’s “ghost” soldiers were covered in them, with the
belief that their inked bodies were bullet-proof.
Continuing
the tradition, muay thai fighters sport mystical
tattoos.
Some of Angelina Jolie’s
back body art was done in the same way; you can see it in the film
Wanted.
Whether yant is superstition, religious
devotion or a fashion statement, it’s a kind of art pilgrims and
visitors would gladly suffer for.
The monks,
themselves covered in faded yant, would pray with you, perhaps
listen to what you have to say but don’t say much.
But they
decide the design and execute it.
One
or two other people might help, holding you down as you offer your
skin as canvas.
The monk clutches
a bamboo or steel rod, dips its tip in black ink possibly mixed
with snake venom or the ashes of cremated holy men and pierces
you.
Every strike
burns.
It
takes a few seconds for your insides to be flooded with endorphins,
which gives you an amazing high.
When it subsides, it burns
again and the cycle repeats itself.
This may last five minutes
or half an hour or longer, depending on what the monk decides to ink into
you.
For
the yant magic to work, the monk may
tell you to give up something — sex, alcohol, white fish,
whatever.
The
most ardent followers follow those instructions
religiously.
The ink’s
power supposedly decreases with time, so it’s ideal to top up the
tattoos once a year.
The
ritual is called wai khru and the largest one is held,
as you might expect, in Wat Bang Phra.
Devotees fall into a trance
and act like the beasts tattooed on their bodies — tigers, monkeys,
birds.
Things can get a little
rough, so the police are around to maintain order.
As with many
religious rituals, sak yant is an invention.
Its mythology
is rooted in ancient animist belief which became entwined with
Theravada Buddhism.
Modern tattoo parlors
offer hip yant patterns, without the pomp
and circumstance that Thai monks shroud their work in.
But
like everything else, yant is only as spiritual or holy
as you want it to be.