The year 2493 (1950) was a particularly hard one throughout most of Isan. A severe drought throughout the rice-growing season led to famine conditions as the new crop died and the previous year’s crop was exhausted. It was especially severe in Mahasarakham and Roi-Et, two provinces adjacent to Ubon. In Phana conditions were not too bad, because the farmers here had always been very quick in ploughing, so they caught the early rain and the rice had already grown quite strong before the drought set in. But even in Phana they had to mix roots found in the forest with the rice in order to provide enough staple food. People came into the village begging for rice. Some brought products to exchange. Phana people were made to feel bad because although they had just about enough they didn’t have any surplus.
For Pensri, nine years old at that time, the main memory she has is of a ritual revived from the folk memory of the people of Phana. She wrote about it for the newsletter of the Matayom Phana School Association. I was reminded of it by a recent post by Hoo Don at Beyond the Mango Juice, Under the Mango Tree -- The Killing Fields .
Praying for the Rain
“The rain is coming, the nuts are falling
The sky is crying just like the drums are beating”
The noisy sound of the small children of our village singing while rushing down from their houses and gathering in the common sandy yard. A strong wind was blowing and we all knew that within a few minutes the huge drops of rain would hit our heads. We kept on running round and round each other full of the delight of having a fresh cold shower. As more and more rain fell we all hurried to find lots and lots of containers to collect the water falling from the roofs. We were so happy that for a few days there would be no need for us to fetch water from the wells, no backache or shoulder pain for the time being.
After the rain, the atmosphere in our village was so fresh and full of an earthy smell. People were so happy preparing their ploughs and buffaloes ready for the new season of growing rice in the paddy fields. At night the frog and fish catchers really enjoyed their activities.
But one year the rain didn’t come as we expected. Quite often the strong wind blew as if the rain was coming, the small children were starting to sing “The rain is coming” as usual, but in vain, no rain at all. Those naked boys and girls who were ready to have a fresh rain shower were most disappointed. The villagers were worred, no rain means no rice, no vegetables, no frogs, no fishes ... nothing.
The old wise men came to meet at the headman’s house. What should we do? There had been no rain for three months now. Usually by now our paddy fields would be full of rice seedlings and tadpoles.
Our learned man, Por Yai Kumnan Sri, suggested that we could ‘Pray for the Rain’ like our ancestors used to do in Vientiane (Laos) before they migrated along the Mekong River and finally settled down in Phana. The custom called “Asking for rain by a lady cat” has been used before and somehow the rain came within one or two weeks. So they all agreed that we would have a festival of ‘Tao Mae Nang Maew’ in a few days time.
When the news of ‘Tao Mae Nang Maew’ reached the ears of the young children in our village we were all very excited. We were going to have great fun and with luck the rain might come later. We all wondered what this festival would be like.
What I can remember was that all the villagers, old, young and tiny, gathered in front of Por Yai Kamnan Sri’s house. He knew all the old customs. There were two cats and two bamboo baskets, a tray of flowers and candles. I saw him put a black lady cat in each basket and heard him say loudly: “Oh! The lady cat, we are gathering here to ask for the rain. Please give us the rain, the heavy rain.” With the tray of flowers and candles he invited the celestial beings to come and meet at the festival. He concentrated his mind and asked them for the rain.
Then the procession started with our learned man in front and four boys carrying our two lady cat baskets. There were a few hundred of us in the procession which went on the main roads around our village. On the way all of us repeated after Por Yai Kamnan Sri, chanting:
“Oh! The lady cat, we have heard you asked for eggs
When there are no eggs. Then you asked for the rain.
Please the holy rain pour down on our lady cat
When there is no rain, then there are no cats
Give her a few rats, or fish and rice.
Oh! my dear lady, your daughter is so beautiful
Please don’t give her away so soon
The marriage is dear when the rice is not here.
Please, the wind blow as the sun is low
Please, the rain fall as the sun goes down.
Falling down the heavy rain
Falling down the heavy rain.”
As we passed houses some of us shouted to the owners saying:
“The lady cat is coming, the lady cat is here
My lady cats bring you the heavy rain.”
The people in the houses poured lots and lots of water on the cats and people in the procession, saying:
“Here is the rain, the heavy rain
All things are growing green again.”
People in the procession acted as if they were soaking wet and cold. We carried on shouting:
“The heavy rain makes melons grow well
The gentle rain adds sugar in the cane
Falling down the heavy rain
Falling down the heavy rain
Just enough for our farming
If it floods we will need boats
Too scary if it floods too much
Falling down the heavy rain
Falling down the heavy rain.”
Our procession finished at the temple where we had more ceremonies of praying for the rain that night.
I remember that day when I was young. I was so excited and very happy. As a group of children we were running around and playing hide and seek. The serious business was left to all the village wise men and women. We were only told off when we screamed too much!
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