Monk Bowl Village

Since I’ll be leaving in a few weeks, I’ve only got a few more weekends to explore Bangkok. One area that I still wanted to visit was the Monk Bowl Village – where you can buy the bowls monks hold when they beg for food. It’s supposed to be interesting and “real” and it had the added bonus of being somewhere that would mean taking another trip on the canal boats.

Traveling by canal boat is genuinely different – and fun. The boat pulls in quickly, people jump on and off, and the attendants walk around on the outside of the boat and collect the fares. Not sure how they keep track of who just got on, but they do. Plus, I’m not really sure it makes all that much difference – the fare is only 9 baht – about 30 cents.

And the view from the canal is interesting – a different perspective on Bangkok life.

From the canal boat stop, the Monk Bowl Village is a short walk down Thanon Boriphat. As is true in so many parts of Bangkok, most of the shops on Thanon Boriphat sell the same thing – in this case, wood. Carved letters, signs, doors.

Monk Bowl Village – “Ban Baat” in Thai – is a warren of small streets and alleys. This is the only remaining place where people still make monk bowls by hand – most are now made in factories.

Making the bowls is a multi-step process. They start with eight pieces of steel, which they solder together. Then, they hammer the bowl into the right shape and to make it smooth.

Finally they lacquer and decorate them. Here are a few pictures.

The few families who still do this live in the area and are “eager” to show you around – and to convince you to buy. The alleys were pretty grim – cramped and narrow, with clothes hanging everywhere and little kids asleep in cots.

I came across a grandmother with her grandson. As I walked by I nodded toward the baby and said, “Narak mahk-mahk,” which means “very cute.” Once I said something in Thai, she smiled and asked “Puut passad Thai dai mai?,” which means “Can you speak Thai?” To which I replied, “nit noi” – “very little.” She then insisted that I take a picture (a “ruup”) of her grandson. He wasn’t into it, but here’s a picture anyway. It really is true that even a limited bit of the local language can help you make a connection.

One my way back out to the main street, I was “pounced on” by a lady at the end of the alley. She kept pulling bowls out of her house and showing them to me. I told her I had already bought three, but she was so insistent that I caved and bought another one. She was very proud of her work and had a little book for me to sign and date. She read my name and tried to pronounce it, so I asked her name – it was “Allie.” I asked to take her picture and she said yes. And she made sure that she posed next to a picture of the king.