Food and drink was on offer outside the house, on both sides of the tiny sub-soi (small street). Those in need of advice from a spiritual medium could then retire upstairs, for what was perhaps the entertainment highlight of the day.
Here, in a small room stuffed with fruit offerings, floral decorations and burning candles, eager residents waited in turn to talk to the local medium, a woman with a special gift who can summon spirits from the other side.
Student Wut is 21. His sister took me upstairs for a look. 'Would you like to talk to her?' she asked.
'No, I would just like to watch what is happening,' I said quickly. I had only been to one of these spiritual gatherings before, and did not know the 'rules' of polite or safe conduct.
The last medium I knew was an over-sized kathoey, whose ego seemed as large as her frame. She knew her special ability set her apart from other folk in the area. Though I did not see her 'perform,' she was at pains to tell me she was not a mere fortune teller, but a medium through which spirits spoke.
People quickly get to know when a medium lives in their midst, and seek her out for advice. The medium in this street was aged in her 50s, wearing pink, and perched upon a large red cushion.
Occasionally she would close her eyes, as if receiving signals from another place, or suspend her hands in the air, like a conductor before a silent orchestra.
One by one, neighbours shuffled towards her. Some would not say a thing - the medium would start talking first.
'The problem is not study - you're a lazy student,' the medium told one young woman. She did not look embarrassed, but I felt sorry for her. She wore a simple T-shirt and ill-fitting jeans, but looked like she thought a lot about life.
Those brave enough to seek the woman's advice kept their heads bowed and wai-ed a lot. They did not ask much, perhaps because they sought the same advice last time. This was a catch-up.
The medium marked the forehead or hands of people who kneeled before her. She reached for a bowl of fruit, and gave them a few pieces before they left.
'Eat this, and enjoy good health..NA!'
The prophet in pink, I noticed, often finished her sentences with an emphatic 'na!' or 'chai mai!' as if she was daring anyone to argue. It also gave her a sense of gravitas.
She spoke in platitudes, like 'rewards come to those who work hard'. Can't argue there, either - those little nuggets of wisdom are received knowledge, passed down the generations, so they must be right.
The woman seemed to know these people well, I thought. She did not refer to them by name, but seemed to know their business - or rather, the spirit she was summoning knew them. Departed family members, perhaps.
One woman asked about a friend. 'He is very sick,' she said.
The medium was not impressed. 'Don't go interfering in other people's business! He will bear the consequences of his own actions. It's fate,' she intoned.
Wut's sister was getting excited, and asked again if I was sure I didn't want any advice. 'They only say good things, so don't worry.' After hearing the previous blunt offering, to the unfortunate woman who asked after her friend, I was not so sure.
One or two women left in tears. Another woman asked about a relative who had since departed. 'Don't worry about her, she's busy deceiving another farang,' she said, to giggles in the room.
This was obviously aimed at me, the only foreigner there. When the woman was finished, I was - er - summoned.
'You lack the courage to have a go, CHAI MAI?' the medium asked. "How do you expect to make good decisions? Do you expect you will meet with success if you do not talk to people?'
I didn't know how to react. By now I was sitting in front of the woman, legs painfully thrust to one side in a respectful if awkward seating position. I was not sure where to look. Into her eyes, or is that too direct? Out the window?
'I don't expect I will meet success unless I talk to people around me,' I said, hesitantly.
She gave me fruit, I gave her a wai, and withdrew as fast as I could. Downstairs, where a small gathering of young women had formed, Wut's sister quizzed me about whether her advice was apt.
'You can't just make decisions, you have to consider the people around you,' I said half-heartedly.
Outside, I tried to get Wut to visit the medium, too. It's a bit like going to see the doctor, I said - you tell her what's wrong, and she gives you advice.
'I promise it won't hurt.'
'That kind of thing is for adults...I don't want to go,' he said.
His mother also tried to convince him to pay the pink one a visit. 'Come on, it will be good for you!' She had sought the medium's advice herself that day, as had his cousin.
Again, no. In the end, Wut's mother and I decided to go back again, as I wanted a second look.
This time, the news was less welcome. 'You are easily offended and upset (ขี้น้อยใจ, or kee noi jai), like a woman,' she said.
Ouch! That hurt.
'Which did you dislike more: the kee noi jai part, or the comment about being like a woman?' Wut asked later. He agreed with the medium's observation: often I get angry for no apparent reason. It's as if my body tells me to get angry, so I do.
'As I get older, little things upset me...the heat, muscle pain, tiredness,' I told him.
The medium also instructed me not to go out late at night. 'It's dangerous...don't invite anyone out at night. Live a good life, and life will be good to you.'
'Go on, ask something else!' implored Mum, to my left. 'That's enough for now,' I told the medium. I did not want to be on the receiving end of any more fierce 'chai mai' challenges.
Rejoining the group downstairs - a little like a debriefing session after a traumatic encounter - someone told me that it was indeed dangerous out there at night.
'For his 60th anniversary on the throne, the King pardoned inmates,' he said. 'They don't like life on the outside, and are looking for a new way to get back behind bars where they can be looked after again.
'If they see a farang they might rob you, thinking you have a pocket-full of money,' he said.
'Little do they know that you only carry about 20 baht in your pocket,' said Wut's sister, teasingly.
In the back of my mind, I wondered what Wut had been telling her. What, am I mean with money? Later, I wondered what he had been telling his Mum - and what she had passed on to everyone else in the street.
For the medium, it turned out, was not a visitor brought in from distant, mysterious parts to pronounce objectively on these folks' future - but Wut's own neighbour, owner of the very house we sat in, which monks had blessed just hours before. I met her at Wut's 21st birthday party a few weeks ago, but forgot.
She knew everyone in the street. Little wonder she seemed so familiar with their lives. In fact, everyone in that room knew each other, and their business as well.
I know the pink one's daughter. I have met the daughter's boyfriend, who is also Wut's cousin. Suddenly, this was all becoming very Thai. 'It was dark, so you probably didn't recognise her,' the daughter said diplomatically.
They are so kind, my Thai friends - they will give me 10 reasons why I should not regard myself as the idiot I know I am. 'She may be my neighbour and know about our lives, but she has real skills at telling the future,' said Wut solemnly.
I'll go back. The predictions and soothsaying were given in fun, and the candles and decorations only add to the dramatic effect. And we love a sense of drama, those of us who are ขี้น้อยใจ (kee noi jai).
Nothing serious, as my Thai friends like to say...so they must wonder why these farang persist in thinking so much.
The visit to the medium was unsettling, because it was so strange. Still, there are worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon.
The pink one, her spirits and real-life admirers spent hours up there in that stuffy room. Those who believe in such things were hoping advice from the Other Side would bring good fortune to their lives.
They are little different from the crowds who gather around lottery vendors every Monday, looking for a lucky number. If they don't like the numbers on offer at one table, they'll move on to the next - and might even buy a ticket eventually.
If these rituals and superstitions work for them, why should the rest of us object?
Here, in a small room stuffed with fruit offerings, floral decorations and burning candles, eager residents waited in turn to talk to the local medium, a woman with a special gift who can summon spirits from the other side.
Student Wut is 21. His sister took me upstairs for a look. 'Would you like to talk to her?' she asked.
'No, I would just like to watch what is happening,' I said quickly. I had only been to one of these spiritual gatherings before, and did not know the 'rules' of polite or safe conduct.
The last medium I knew was an over-sized kathoey, whose ego seemed as large as her frame. She knew her special ability set her apart from other folk in the area. Though I did not see her 'perform,' she was at pains to tell me she was not a mere fortune teller, but a medium through which spirits spoke.
People quickly get to know when a medium lives in their midst, and seek her out for advice. The medium in this street was aged in her 50s, wearing pink, and perched upon a large red cushion.
Occasionally she would close her eyes, as if receiving signals from another place, or suspend her hands in the air, like a conductor before a silent orchestra.
One by one, neighbours shuffled towards her. Some would not say a thing - the medium would start talking first.
'The problem is not study - you're a lazy student,' the medium told one young woman. She did not look embarrassed, but I felt sorry for her. She wore a simple T-shirt and ill-fitting jeans, but looked like she thought a lot about life.
Those brave enough to seek the woman's advice kept their heads bowed and wai-ed a lot. They did not ask much, perhaps because they sought the same advice last time. This was a catch-up.
The medium marked the forehead or hands of people who kneeled before her. She reached for a bowl of fruit, and gave them a few pieces before they left.
'Eat this, and enjoy good health..NA!'
The prophet in pink, I noticed, often finished her sentences with an emphatic 'na!' or 'chai mai!' as if she was daring anyone to argue. It also gave her a sense of gravitas.
She spoke in platitudes, like 'rewards come to those who work hard'. Can't argue there, either - those little nuggets of wisdom are received knowledge, passed down the generations, so they must be right.
The woman seemed to know these people well, I thought. She did not refer to them by name, but seemed to know their business - or rather, the spirit she was summoning knew them. Departed family members, perhaps.
One woman asked about a friend. 'He is very sick,' she said.
The medium was not impressed. 'Don't go interfering in other people's business! He will bear the consequences of his own actions. It's fate,' she intoned.
Wut's sister was getting excited, and asked again if I was sure I didn't want any advice. 'They only say good things, so don't worry.' After hearing the previous blunt offering, to the unfortunate woman who asked after her friend, I was not so sure.
One or two women left in tears. Another woman asked about a relative who had since departed. 'Don't worry about her, she's busy deceiving another farang,' she said, to giggles in the room.
This was obviously aimed at me, the only foreigner there. When the woman was finished, I was - er - summoned.
'You lack the courage to have a go, CHAI MAI?' the medium asked. "How do you expect to make good decisions? Do you expect you will meet with success if you do not talk to people?'
I didn't know how to react. By now I was sitting in front of the woman, legs painfully thrust to one side in a respectful if awkward seating position. I was not sure where to look. Into her eyes, or is that too direct? Out the window?
'I don't expect I will meet success unless I talk to people around me,' I said, hesitantly.
She gave me fruit, I gave her a wai, and withdrew as fast as I could. Downstairs, where a small gathering of young women had formed, Wut's sister quizzed me about whether her advice was apt.
'You can't just make decisions, you have to consider the people around you,' I said half-heartedly.
Outside, I tried to get Wut to visit the medium, too. It's a bit like going to see the doctor, I said - you tell her what's wrong, and she gives you advice.
'I promise it won't hurt.'
'That kind of thing is for adults...I don't want to go,' he said.
His mother also tried to convince him to pay the pink one a visit. 'Come on, it will be good for you!' She had sought the medium's advice herself that day, as had his cousin.
Again, no. In the end, Wut's mother and I decided to go back again, as I wanted a second look.
This time, the news was less welcome. 'You are easily offended and upset (ขี้น้อยใจ, or kee noi jai), like a woman,' she said.
Ouch! That hurt.
'Which did you dislike more: the kee noi jai part, or the comment about being like a woman?' Wut asked later. He agreed with the medium's observation: often I get angry for no apparent reason. It's as if my body tells me to get angry, so I do.
'As I get older, little things upset me...the heat, muscle pain, tiredness,' I told him.
The medium also instructed me not to go out late at night. 'It's dangerous...don't invite anyone out at night. Live a good life, and life will be good to you.'
'Go on, ask something else!' implored Mum, to my left. 'That's enough for now,' I told the medium. I did not want to be on the receiving end of any more fierce 'chai mai' challenges.
Rejoining the group downstairs - a little like a debriefing session after a traumatic encounter - someone told me that it was indeed dangerous out there at night.
'For his 60th anniversary on the throne, the King pardoned inmates,' he said. 'They don't like life on the outside, and are looking for a new way to get back behind bars where they can be looked after again.
'If they see a farang they might rob you, thinking you have a pocket-full of money,' he said.
'Little do they know that you only carry about 20 baht in your pocket,' said Wut's sister, teasingly.
In the back of my mind, I wondered what Wut had been telling her. What, am I mean with money? Later, I wondered what he had been telling his Mum - and what she had passed on to everyone else in the street.
For the medium, it turned out, was not a visitor brought in from distant, mysterious parts to pronounce objectively on these folks' future - but Wut's own neighbour, owner of the very house we sat in, which monks had blessed just hours before. I met her at Wut's 21st birthday party a few weeks ago, but forgot.
She knew everyone in the street. Little wonder she seemed so familiar with their lives. In fact, everyone in that room knew each other, and their business as well.
I know the pink one's daughter. I have met the daughter's boyfriend, who is also Wut's cousin. Suddenly, this was all becoming very Thai. 'It was dark, so you probably didn't recognise her,' the daughter said diplomatically.
They are so kind, my Thai friends - they will give me 10 reasons why I should not regard myself as the idiot I know I am. 'She may be my neighbour and know about our lives, but she has real skills at telling the future,' said Wut solemnly.
I'll go back. The predictions and soothsaying were given in fun, and the candles and decorations only add to the dramatic effect. And we love a sense of drama, those of us who are ขี้น้อยใจ (kee noi jai).
Nothing serious, as my Thai friends like to say...so they must wonder why these farang persist in thinking so much.
The visit to the medium was unsettling, because it was so strange. Still, there are worse ways to spend a Sunday afternoon.
The pink one, her spirits and real-life admirers spent hours up there in that stuffy room. Those who believe in such things were hoping advice from the Other Side would bring good fortune to their lives.
They are little different from the crowds who gather around lottery vendors every Monday, looking for a lucky number. If they don't like the numbers on offer at one table, they'll move on to the next - and might even buy a ticket eventually.
If these rituals and superstitions work for them, why should the rest of us object?
You are lucky to speak so good Thai that you can take part in events like this medium seance.
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