Don't Phin me down

A friend of mine decided it was time to become a monk. In Thailand, that's not uncommon. In fact: most Thai men ordain for a couple of months when they are in their teens or twenties. It's sort of a rite of passage.

My friend, how ever, has just turned 50 and what's more: he's a farang. Now, many foreigners come to Thailand to flirt with Buddhism. But few have the resolve to go and study at a so called forest monastery. (Students of Ajarn Chah, like the Australian Ajarn Brahm are a notable exception).

My friend has that resolve (for now). I add the 'for now' with the least bit of sarcasm. Because for him it means he will be doing some bare bones (and knuckles) meditation practice in the jungle (forest is a bit of a misnomer). Stuff like getting up at four in the morning. Eating only what you from your alms rounds and: not eating at all after twelve o' clock.

There are many more rules and the forest tradition in Thailand is famous for being strict (as opposed to most others). One of those other rules for monks is: no music. And first and foremost: no possessions. That's were I come in. Because my friend used to own a handmade Isaan guitar called the phin.

Used to, because now I have it. Which means I've started to try and play it. This is fun but by no means a piece of cake. The tuning is slightly strange (three strings EAE), the instrument is fretted for the Thai eight tone scale and the morlam music you're supposed play with it is mostly very, very fast. Which is why I won't be playing any Thai festivals any time soon. Or in Bangkok at the roadside for spare change like this fantastic phin shredder: