Black House, White Goddess

Oct. 19-20

We had seen the White Temple on Tuesday, so Thursday was the day for the Black House. 

The Black House, Baan Dam in Thai, is a collection of 30 or 40 buildings, mostly of teak, created and furnished with art work and animal parts by a local artist named Thawan Duchanee.

It’s a short drive north of the city so the hotel called a driver, Pipat, who charged us 300 baht ($9) an hour to take us wherever we wanted to go.

On the way to the Baan Dam, we saw a huge seated figure in white on top of a hill. It is on the same general scale as the Dai Fut, the giant Buddha on Lantau Island at Hong Kong.

Joanna and I thought it was a Thai Buddha, but Pipat explained that it is Kuan Yin. Kuan Yin (pronounced in Cantonese something like “Gun Yum”) is the Chinese goddess of mercy, an Asian equivalent of the Virgin Mary.

There’s one strange sight after another in this part of the country.

Duchanee, who died in 2014, spent several decades creating the Black House. He oversaw construction of the buildings, which are almost in the Lanna style, but a little over the top. 

Most of them are furnished with elaborate carvings, and oversize furniture made with animal bones and horns. Tables and floors are often decorated with crocodile skins.

The main hall, where a band of young children plays Thai music, has a golden bird, possibly a phoenix, that carries the artist’s picture and an urn. His picture, here as a life-size cutout, somewhere else as a large face in a canvas, appears throughout the museum. 

Most of the time it shows him at an advanced age with an untrimmed white beard, looking like some kind of Buddhist saint. Sometimes, though, an old photo from his early days crops up in which he looks like a juvenile delinquent.

Ladder-back chairs are made from buffalo horns. Some small tables use animal bones for legs.

The grounds contain menhirs, dolmens, and labyrinths laid out in stone.

Most of the buildings are closed, so you stand outside to see in. Some are just closed, like the large, apparently metal structure that looks vaguely like Jules Verne’s Nautilus. 

There are several white domes near the Nautilus. The floor of one is covered with an array of giant seashells. Another has its entrances guarded by wooden figures of men with outsize penises.

Penises, in fact, are a recurring theme. You see slingshots and gourd ladles with phallic handles, for instance. Replicas of those are offered for sale in the gift shop.

It is a great place to wander and see strange things. What’s more, it’s shaded by huge trees. We spent at least an hour wandering the grounds before we headed back to the car.

We had enough energy to stop and say a prayer to Kuan Yin. The great statue is white, and so is the temple down the hill from it. But this white shrine is a little more orthodox than the White Temple.

There is very little shade at the Kuan Yin shrine, but that’s all right. You ride an open tour bus that climbs the hill to the base of the effigy, which is about two-dozen stories high.

You leave your shoes on the steps and go to the elevator, which is operated by men in uniforms who salute when the car is about to close.

When we got out on the 24th floor, we saw a monk surrounded by people in black. Most people in public life are still wearing black in mourning for the king.

The monk spoke to Joanna in Thai. When she couldn’t answer, he realized that he had guessed wrong. So he asked me in English were I was from. 

“United States” seemed to confuse him for a second. Maybe he is more used to hearing “U.S.” When I said “New Jersey,” he repeated the name. He may have recognized it.

He had a broad smile and was having his picture taken with various people who knelt next to him with their hands pressed together as if in prayer. The Thais love their monks. 

It wasn’t till we passed an offering box and saw a photo of that same beaming smile that Joanna and I realized he must be the boss.

The entire inside of the structure is white, like the outside, but the inside walls are studded with rhinestones and a bit of glitter, making it look like the place was cut from ice. 

From the top of Kuan Yin, you can see the rolling country with rice fields and what may be ponds for fish farms.

When we went back to the first floor, the abbot was holding an audience with various people. 

Joanna and I bought a bag of rice as an offering, and I said a “Hail, Mary” to Kuan Yin.

Pipat dropped us off at the Clock Tower, where we stopped for Beer Lao at the bar across the street. 

This time we took dinner there too. It was good, basic Thai, which we ordered mai pet—that is, without heat—in deference to Joanna’s Cantonese palate. Grilled chicken is always a good bet for that. 

Friday was return to Chiang Mai day. Tommy picked us up around 11 and we made one stop on the way back, at a coffee bar called Homduan.

Tommy said it is his favorite place, and he always stops there either on the way up or the back back on trips to Chiang Rai.

It is next to a rice field. This was the first time that I got a close look at growing rice. 

At a glance it looks like an uncut lawn that has gone to seed, but the seeds are heavier than you get on a lawn gone wild. The tops of the plants droop under their weight.

Joanna pointed out another delicacy. Snails, roughly the size of escargot, were floating near the roots of the plants.

Joanna had said she wanted to buy some Thai honey to take home, and Tommy recommended honey from the Royal Project. This is a sustainable, organic farming initiative begun by the late king.

We detoured to a Royal Project store when we got to Chiang Mai. We found the honey, and also a lemongrass infusion and an herbal tea made from a leaf called jiaogulan.

We checked in at the Boonthavon again, and even got the same room.

We went to Annie’s for dinner. We had pad Thai, cabbage in fish sauce, and crispy pork with stir-fried vegetables. Everything must have been good, because it all disappeared.

When we walked in, the owner told me that they had brought in something new, Vedett IPA in bottles. I had heard the name Vedett before but hadn’t had the IPA.

The label said it was made by the Duvel company, an exceptionally good Belgian brewer. And this was up to expectation. 

I wound up having two.

So we’re back in the hood and everything’s fine.

I hope it’s fine for all of you, too.

Harry