TREES OF TRADITION

A Buddhist tradition among the Yong people of Lamphun since time immemorial, every year from the beginning of September until November, young Yong women offer Salak Yorm trees while the men join the monkhood for three months, to give the greatest contribution to the Buddhism. Formerly a merit-making ritual for a young woman who had reached 20 years of age, which demonstrated her readiness for adulthood and marriage, the finest and most graceful Salak Yorm tree came from homes where the woman was either rich or beautiful. Today, the preparation of the tall Salak Yorm trees is more of a community effort, involv

 ing painstaking and hard work by everyone, in particular the young men in the village.

This little known rite returned to Lamphun last week and fascinated by the legend, we jumped into the vans and wandered from Wat Ton Kaew to Wat Pratupa to other Yong-speaking communities expecting to give our hands to young, beautiful and rich Yong women and gain good karma.

But it turns out we were late - about 60 years too late.

The Salak Yorm ceremony, we observe, is no longer practised by young woman. The last woman who offered a Salak Yorm tree as a youngster is now 78 years old. The ritual has gone from individual to community scale to lure not young men but tourists to the sleepy Northern town.

"Young men, a lot of them, came to my house. They brought baskets, fish nets and other stuff to make my perfect tree," says granny Khon, 78, the last Yong woman to perform the rite 58 years ago at Wat Baan Luk. "They helped me set up my six-metre-tall Salak Yom near the tamarind tree.

"It was busy but so much fun. Like the day when a man enters the monkhood, Salak Yorm marked an important day for a Yong woman. You're recognised a fully-grown woman afterwards."

Some women, it's said, would go so far to spare their long hair, so it could be woven together with pieces of the finest silk to make a container for the holy book of Buddhist Scriptures. This carried a lot of meaning from the Yong women's point of view, because they were offering their most revered attribute - their hair - to serve Buddhism.

In the 21st Century, however, a modern Yong woman doesn't feel obliged to offer Salak Yorm. Likewise, few men are serious about becoming a monk. But while the ritual is now performed by the communities, it still requires effort. Wat Phrathat Haripunchai, the city's main temple, renowned for its 46-metre-tall golden pagoda, is where the modern day Salak Yom ceremony takes place.

There, in the temple grounds around the main chapel, the representatives of Yong-speaking communities plant 20-metre-high bamboo tubes leaving one end open to the sky. The teams of Salak Yorm makers are recruited from all walks of life, varying from small Buddhist novices to old, wise abbots, and from fine carpenters to witty storytellers.

"Each community might need two days to set up the high tree of Salak Yorm, but there's painstaking preparation earlier," says the abbot of Wat Pratupa. "They have to make more than 10,000 pieces of bamboo sticks, and thousands of other small decorative pieces that cost time, labour and money."

It's fun to walk around the temple and watch Yong people set up Salak Yorm trees. It's a bustling scene, with monks and men working together, racing against time. On the ground, the old abbot uses a megaphone to direct the young monks and novices, as they negotiate their way around the 30-meter-tall scaffolding and plant the sticks around the naked tower.

Imagine the tall Christmas tree at CentralWorld at Ratchaprasong Intersection, Bangkok, when you try to conjure up a vision of the Salak Yorm trees at Wat Phrathat Haripunchai. The colourful trees stand about 20 metres. With the umbrella on top, the tree is pinned around with red, yellow and green strips of paper. At the bottom, devotees place banana, sugar cane, cooking ingredients and everything the monks could ever need and quite a few other things - like fish nets and fish containers - that they probably don't.

"In the old days, when Yong woman offered the Salak Yorm tree, they would hang strings of gold and precious stones around the umbrella," says local writer Nares Panayaphoo. "The monks needed them when they constructed a pagoda."

Once the Salak Yorm trees are completed, the communities leave the temple to enjoy a one-night celebration. The storytellers and folk singers take turn reciting Yong verses that narrate how the beautiful Salak Yorm trees are made.

"When the celebration is over, the offering ceremony takes place the following day," adds Nares. "The communities write down the number of their Salak Yorm on a piece of paper, and put the papers in one bowl.

"You cannot dedicate your Salak Yorm tree to any particular monk. You don't know until the monk picks up your number, and then the offering takes place."