Summary

The author recounts a transformative experience on Koh Samui, where the discovery of a mummified monk and interactions with a local woman lead to personal growth and a deeper understanding of life's impermanence.

Abstract

During a honeymoon trip to Koh Samui, the author encounters Wat Khunaram and the mummified remains of Loung Pordaeng, a Thai Buddhist monk who died in meditation in 1973. The monk's preserved body serves as a reminder of the Buddha's teachings on the nature of life and death. The author also befriends Poy, a young Thai woman working at the resort, whose dedication to her family despite hardships offers a stark contrast to the author's own journey. The visit to a serene beach bar and the observation of local fishing practices further contribute to the author's profound realizations about the beauty of slow, intentional living and the importance of community and acceptance.

Opinions

The author expresses a profound sense of peace and inner calm upon visiting the mummified monk, indicating a deep appreciation for the teachings represented by his remains.
There is a sense of guilt and reflection on privilege as the author compares their own journey to Poy's, who endures long and arduous travel to visit her family.
The author holds the beach bar in high regard, describing it as a heavenly place that embodies the essence of a slow

Village Life: A Profound Discovery Made Me a Better Person

“Things are not always the way we want them to be, but we can learn to understand them”.

Wat Khunaram taken on the day of my visit. Photo credit: the Author

While honeymooning on the tropical island of Koh Samui in the Gulf of Thailand two years ago, I discovered Wat Khunaram in a secluded village just outside the resort where we were staying.

In 1973, Loung Pordaeng, a Thai Buddhist monk, passed away while sitting peacefully in meditation. He is said to have told his followers shortly before his death that if his body were to decompose he should be cremated, but if not, then he wanted to be put on display as a visual reminder of the Buddha’s teachings. A special structure was built and the monk was placed in a glass casket for all to view. His remains are pretty well intact after almost 50 years. Phra Khru Samathakittikhun — the name given to him as a monk — was born on Koh Samui in 1894 to a prominent family within the tight-knit island community.

Complying with tradition when entering any wat (temple), I removed my shoes before reverently climbing the steps to the glass case which contained the mummified remains of Loung Pordang’s body, swathed in the distinctive orange robes that are synonymous with monks of the Theravada Buddhist followers in Southeast Asia. His skin resembled tea-stained parchment and he was wearing a pair of sunglasses (out of respect, due to the deterioration of his eyes). As shrines go, this was up there. As I stood mesmerised in front of this stranger, I experienced an incredible sense of peace and inner calm and wished that I had had the good fortune to meet him during his lifetime.

“The Buddha said, “No one can escape death and unhappiness. If people expect only happiness in life, they will be disappointed.” Things are not always the way we want them to be, but we can learn to understand them”.

Poy was a young Thai woman who worked at the resort. Earlier, she had met me with the traditional Thai greeting of ‘sawasdee ka’ with her tiny hands clasped together in a prayer-like pose, while leaning forward in a slow bowing movement.

Walking from the resort down to the village that morning, she told me that she couldn’t afford a flight back to see her family but whenever she could, sometimes only once a year, she would have to catch a boat to the mainland and then endure an epic bus journey of many hours before reaching her home village. I felt guilty that I had flown for a total of nearly 13 hours and boarded two planes to reach here.

From the resort looking across to Ang Thong National Park. Photo credit: the Author

The Beach Bar from Heaven

That evening, my new husband and I decided to check out a beach bar an Australian couple had recommended a few days earlier while chatting with them in the infinity pool.

We wandered barefoot, hand-in-hand along the shoreline, the sun setting in the distance as the tantalising aroma of Thai cooking wafted through the air. On reaching the bar, we ordered a piña colada served in a tender coconut shell and an ice-cold beer and we were in Nirvana. Life didn’t get much better than this.

A piña colada at the beach bar from heaven. Photo credit: the Author

Life in the Slow Lane

Mature hippy types lounged on beanbags smoking roll-ups, staring out to sea, and a haunting Santana blues-jazz tune expertly played by a local on his guitar, lulled us into a semi-comatose state of euphoric bliss. Some of the lean, bronzed, older guys looked as though they had stumbled into the bar back in the 1970s and just never left. And who could blame them? It was magical. Life in the slow lane. The sense of community on this little strip of beach overlooking the ocean was palpable.

After a pleasant evening of kicking back, having savoured the locally recommended Poo Pad Pong Garee (stir-fried crab curry), we meandered back along the moonlit beach to the resort with the gentle lapping of the warm Gulf ocean keeping us company and a soft breeze rustling the gigantic leaves of the coconut palms which grew along the shoreline.

When we were about halfway along the coarse, sandy beach, a movement caught my eye out to sea and a small rowing boat appeared to be sprinkling lights on the water. Poy told us the following morning that we had witnessed octopus fishing.

The Infinity Pool. Photo credit: the Author

Since returning from that magical trip two years ago, I have tried to be more tolerant and to accept my life for what it is.

“Things are not always the way we want them to be, but we can learn to understand them”.

The gossip, intrigue, trials, and tribulations of village life roll along, whether it be in a remote village on an idyllic island in the Gulf of Thailand or a hamlet nestled deep in the heart of the English countryside. A sense of belonging is what binds village communities together and the mummified monk is precisely where he belongs.