Luang Prabang Monk's Procession

Morning call came at 5:30am. Rolled out of bed so that we could go see the morning ritual of Luang Prabang's citizens making their rice offering to the procession of monks. It was pouring down with rain, which added a certain romanticism to the whole setting. People do this day-in, day-out; rain or shine. For us tourists, this was a spectable. For them, it is their way of life, like waking up and brushing one's teeth each morning, yet infused with so much more meaning. I felt like such the voyeur though, observing this rite, documenting it with snaps from my digicam, commenting and questioning. Somehow, I felt like I was trivializing this beautiful ritual, made even more beautiful by the contrast of the long line saffron-coloured robes snaking amidst lush, jade green of the trees lining the street. Tourists make a show of the procession. Yet, its the sincerity of the people making their offerings and the solemnity of the monks walking the streets in their bare feet to receive them, that makes this such a precious experience to behold. It's getting harder and harder to find such places around the world, where people manage to hold on to their own way of life with such integrity. Luang Prabang really is a special place, made so by its people.