An Isan staff party

This is of course not going to be a spectacular story, but for those who are interested in how people live, party and work in Isaan, it may be interesting enough.

A week ago, my wife received a call from Waai, a 34-year-old woman who had started working at the Ubon Ratchathani Rice Research Center after graduating from Khon Kaen University. The Research Center was to throw a farewell party on October 6 because it had accepted a new position at a different Research Center. A somewhat risky date, because the weather experts expected a typhoon to hit Isaan that day and it would of course be an outdoor event. The party was only intended for the employees - not for the partners - but she was allowed to invite her relatives to the table reserved for her as a celebrator. However, her family lives 2000 km away and no one was able to come, so she was allowed to invite friends instead. And because she had already joined us at the dining table a few times – brought along by friends of ours – and since then she had visited us more often, we knew her quite well. Waai also invited Toey, a good friend of ours, because Toey was a mother to her when she worked in Ubon.

The dress code for the party was traditionally Isan, which indicates that the Isan is proud of its identity, at least that's my interpretation. However, I do not mean to imply that this is an independent pursuit.

The Ubon Ratchathani Rice Research Center is located about 20 km outside of Ubon at a distance of about 10 km from our house. It occupies extensive grounds with several buildings and also simple residences for the staff. Waai lived in one of those houses with her best friend, a friend from her Khon Kaen period. Despite the vastness of the terrain, there were no test fields for newly developed ricevarieties. These test fields are spread across Thailand and are tended by ordinary rice farmers, but of course occasionally visited by officials of the Research Center.

On the day in question, we arrived at the Research Center at half past five, where the festivities had already begun. A dancing group of employees was on their way to a building where a Buddhist-themed ceremony was to take place. There were a few chairs in that building – two were of course intended for us – but the rest of those present had to sit on mats. There were also three benches in the center: one for a white-robed figure who would lead the ceremony, one for Waai with her “mother” Toey, and one for the director and his wife. Because that big party was of course not only for Waai, but in the first place for the director who had also accepted a position elsewhere. So Waai was so happy that she could piggyback on the farewell of the director. She was, incidentally, together with the director on a huge poster that was hung somewhere and was depicted as prominently as her director. No distinction was made in that respect.

Before the ceremony started, a bench was added - next to Waai and Toey - and my wife and I had to sit on it; we owe this to the fact that Waai also considers us parents (“another daughter”). Part of the ceremony was, of course, that we were connected with each other and with the Buddhist counselor by a string. After fifteen minutes the counselor finished his prayers and tied a piece of string around the right wrist of each of the six of us. Then the crowd was allowed to come along on their knees to provide the two celebrants with wrist strings and say goodbye. That was accompanied by several hugs, despite COVID. By the way, no one used a face mask and my wife and I went along effortlessly.

Then we went outside where tables with food for over 300 people were set up. We sat together with Waai and Toey at a table for 8 people, but the director was allowed to make do with a table for no less than 14 people. In addition to bottles of water and soft drinks, each table had one bottle of Leo beer. So it was not a drinking party like I have experienced at staff parties in the Netherlands. Once even a colleague of mine had to be helped into a taxi, but he rolled out faster than he was pushed into it. Not so in Thailand.

A large stage was of course also set up on the party grounds where both professional artists and employees showed their skills. And of course there was dancing. I was especially popular as a dance partner with the older ladies and I was even pulled by my arm to the dance floor a few times. I'm actually not used to such boldness in Thailand, only from drunk and/or very old women. But the party atmosphere apparently led some women not to let themselves be deprived of that unique opportunity to dance with a farang. I put up with that without any problems because sitting still for more than an hour is unhealthy, I recently read. Nowadays, my Fitbit watch warns me in time if I threaten to sit still for too long. But with all those dancing ladies, I didn't need any warnings that night.

The promised typhoon was delayed – the monks (?) who had pricked that day were apparently in better contact with the weather gods than the weather experts – and just after ten we left the party where the party was still in full swing.