The girl with the sak yant tattoo
Chiang Mai, Thailand
I AM KNEELING in a Buddhist temple in Chiang Mai, Thailand. I am getting a sak yant tattoo that will be blessed by a monk. Sak yants are mystical tattoos with magical properties which will protect me from harm, bring me kindness and merit. To be worthy, I must not lie, cheat, steal, speak poorly of my mother nor get intoxicated, the five precepts to which I have agreed beforehand.
Monk Pa Anam is blessing the tattoo that his colleague, Sang, a retired monk called an ajarn, has just inked on my forearm with a long metal rod dipped in a little pot of ink. The design is created freehand, meticulously and perfectly drawn on my skin. It is an unalome, a mystical motif imbued with devotion, power, foretelling of the future. The symbol I have chosen depicts my personal journey toward enlightenment, beginning with birth and winding through life. The path isn’t always straight nor pointing in the right direction. My unalome has swirls, coils and dots. I love it.
I have brought an offering of flowers, incense, cigarettes, money, neatly wrapped in a banana leaf which I present respectfully to the monk who accepts it, then shakes water on me using a bundle of thin bamboo sticks. He blows on my tattoo while chanting rhythmically. “What is he saying?” I ask my Thai guide, Mickey, whispering softly. “Who knows?” Mickey shrugs. “He’s speaking Pali, and no one understands Pali except monks.”
Monk Pa Anam applies a shiny square of gold leaf to my skin, blowing on me three times. He removes the gold leaf by rubbing it into my arm with a wooden stick then shakes more water on me, continuing to chant in Pali. He ties a white string around my wrist. The ritual is complete.
Monk Pa Anam is very curious about me and we have a conversation, translated by Mickey. Where am I from? How long in Chiang Mai? Is this my first time in Thailand? When I tell him my sister is Buddhist, he is immediately intrigued especially when I tell him she is Mahavana Buddhist, not Theravada, the branch practiced in Thailand. He asks, “What about you?” I dodge the question. I don’t share my sister’s religious conviction and I don’t want to offend. I hesitate before speaking. “I’m learning,” I say. The monk nods in satisfaction. The entire morning’s encounter is beautiful, meaningful, mystical.
I have participated in an ancient religion’s spiritual tradition.
