A death in Isaan – day 2

When The Inquisitor and wife come home on Wednesday evening around 'si toem', nine o'clock, wife's phone rings. Judging by her facial expression, it's amazing news. Unbelievable, a second death. Distant relative, the father of an uncle.

Her aunt asks if we want to come tomorrow morning, the man died three days ago and the cremation is on Thursday. Yes, that's how it goes in Isaan, nothing is planned more than a day in advance, no notification of the death itself, a bit too distant relatives, but sweetheart still wants to go. For example, the planning changes quickly, De Inquisitor has long since resigned himself to that.

The shop only opens briefly on Thursday morning, closing again at half past eight. Because it has been agreed that wife's aunt will pick us up at home around half past nine, we have to go to a village about thirty kilometers away. Sweetheart has taken over from the farang. Be ready on time, by appointment. But once again we're in the dark. At half past ten we are still waiting, a phone call, it will take a while because several people are going with aunt's car and they are not all there yet. We decide to drive on independently, we are both hungry because we haven't had breakfast yet.

Miraculously, we find the location without any problems, it is a tiny hamlet, there are many cars and mopeds, and there are already many people under the tents. Then the rituals, greeting the body, handing in a contribution and dinner time. Same dishes as always, tasty and plenty. And The Inquisitor who once again feared to be the center of attention is satisfied because not at all. In this family there are three farangs, but they are currently working in their homeland. So no exaggerated attention, no hassle with curious people.

Around three o'clock in the afternoon, De Inquisitor was able to put on his 'village attire' again to head for poa Deing. As a celebrity you don't have to be dressed up at all for such things here in the village, in fact that is not even recommended. In the countryside there is always something that gets your clothes dirty. A dog jumping up on you. A dirty chair you forgot to check. You sit down on the floor with your comrades, forgetting that you are wearing light-colored trousers. You eat with your hands, the Inquisitor always wipes them, unintentionally, on his trousers.

People are coming and going, and the majority of the villagers are just here 'being'. The Inquisitor is called to a table full of older men. The Inquisitor does not see them that often, the people over seventy usually sit at home in their yards. Now they are busy being important, respect for elders is still firmly ingrained here. They ask The Inquisitor about Belgium, about love, how The Inquisitor got his money. Everything in a funny way, commenting on his answers among each other. Ha! You have the Euro. It's snowing in Belgium, isn't it? Is it always cold there? Someone even turns out to know Hazard, a famous football player. And this time it is The Inquisitor who has to refill the glasses every time, he is the youngest at the table.

A little later, De Inquisitor shifts his interest to the kitchen tent. What a pleasant affair! A food safety inspector, or whatever it is called in the low countries by the sea, would have a heart attack on the spot. The large low bamboo tables are full. A mix of dripping raw meat between the fish. Vegetables cut here and there, or still in their packaging. Plastic bottles with sauces. Bags with unknown contents. Women's bags, the cell phone in hand. Bottles of beer and lao kao, full glasses, empty glasses. Dogs wander under and around the tables, looking for falling leftovers, and there are a lot of them because everyone takes a bite of something now and then and just throws the bones or whatever on the floor.

Jaa and two other sturdy guys have a bad job, they have to chop pork finely with a cleaver. It goes like this : the first man takes a mountain of meat and cuts it into small chunks, the hope moves to mister two who chops until his arm hurts. Jaa is the finishing touch – he checks and chops up the forgotten bigger chunks. But after about five minutes they stop and take a sip of lao kao. That makes them very happy after half an hour and the end product is already a lot rougher than before.

Uth is the man with knowledge, like the village chef when it comes to cooking for large groups. He makes sure that everything continues to run smoothly. Orders to cut onions when necessary, he determines how much salt should go with it. He manages the big pots on the fire, adds the ingredients. But he too regularly takes a strong sip from his glass of beer, so that he only discovers ten minutes later that someone has cut fish in his pork dish. Mai pen rai. Sip !

It's chaos for a Westerner, but they manage to deliver platters of food for the countless visitors time and time again. And no one complaining, the food is tasty. The Inquisitor has been given a seat in the midst of that chaos. They like it, because he remains curious about how they do it, what they prepare. He sits at the meat-cutters' table and thus gets his share of the drink. Next to him is a lady who is preparing a kind of fish paste. Fish with everything on it and pounded on it in a mason jar, along with some sort of finely shredded green onion. And chilis, name pla, pepper, salt. It doesn't look like much but The Inquisitor has to taste everything from them - he doesn't disappoint the audience, makes funny faces when too spicy, rolls his eyes when the dish doesn't look good, but always says it's tasty.

Then there is commotion. A pickup truck pulls up and excitement. Poa Deing, The Inquisitor already wondered where he was, went to slaughter a pig with a number of men. The red mush is steaming in the back of the tank, on a multicolored plastic sheet that has apparently been used for painting before. The beautiful pieces of meat go to a bunch of ladies who immediately get to work. There remains something that De Inquisitor finds a bit dirty. All entrails, including the skin and legs. That's men's work. They get overenthusiastic about it, everyone wants to cooperate. Liver, lungs, kidneys, intestines and heart are cleaned, cut and processed manually, and then go into a huge kettle on a gas fire. Open the gas completely and boil it off. Head and legs go in a separate pot, which are prepared by the chef himself, Uth even leaves his glass of beer behind. Thus the bamboo table was transformed into a bloody scene, the ladies had to save their handbags in a panic, the men did not notice.

Yet they keep throwing in food when it arrives, mostly vegetables. Cut and on dishes that regularly fall over, the vegetables go into the red mush, but again no problem, that all goes in the same stomach, right? It's just incredible how they come out and get dishes done. And without exception we keep taking snacks, fried chicken legs, then another piece of fish, then a spicy soup with a composition unknown to De Inquisitor, …. It tastes like the beer that flows freely. Because there is Bee, a sturdy busty young lady who is very well known in the village. Orphan, raised by the neighbors. Extremely hardworking and successful entrepreneur. Apart from the rice and vegetable fields she inherited, she manages a small rubber plantation, a plantation of eucalyptus. Three shops in the nearby town: mopeds, music equipment and a kind of administration office - there you can have photocopies taken, she fills in documents, can fax, ....

Bee is prosperous and generous, a merry woman, bachelorette with countless suitors from which she only occasionally chooses one. Always present at events, surrounded by friends and sympathizers. She drives around in one of those 'Tara' trucks, and the trunk has a built-in cooler for ice. And a lockable container for drinks. Drink she always brings. And share without respect of persons. She is the one who provides beer for this ceremony, because poa Deing's finances don't allow it, he already spends a fortune on the food and the lao kao.

And De Inquisitor once again hears a change to the program. The cremation that was planned for Saturday will go to Friday. Easy. No problem, for anyone. The head monk has been called away, he has to go somewhere on Saturday. And for a popular family like Deing's, you have to have the head monk, nothing less. That means that Saturday - normally anyway - will be a busy day. In the morning, attend the mantras at the Deing house. Then to the cremation, in procession. Then we eat, after the monks of course, to go back to the house of Poa Deing where we will eat and drink until late in the evening.

The Inquisitor then decides to leave the fun, to give sweetheart a hand in closing the shop. To enjoy a good night's sleep, he must be fit on Friday.