BURIRAM and Beyond
Home to uncrowded ancient sites, spellbinding cultural festivals, and one of Thailand’s best-loved regional cuisines, Isan is ripe for discovery.
As an
American who has lived on-and-off in Bangkok the past three years, I’m sometimes struck by how much of Thailand I haven’t yet seen. So when I recently got the chance to embark on a nine-day trip through Isan, that vast northeastern region overlooked by most foreign visitors, there was no way I could turn it down. The plan? After an hourlong domestic flight from Bangkok’s Don Mueang Airport to Buriram, I would hail a taxi straight to Nang Rong, a small town close to Phanom Rung Historical Park, and spend two nights there to check out the Phanom Rung Festival. Then it was onto the city of Surin for another three nights, followed by two destinations in the nearby province of Nakhon Ratchasima. The first would be Phimai, where I had budgeted two nights to wander around and take in the town’s impressive Khmer ruins, and the second, Dan Kwian Pottery Village, done as an excursion from the provincial capital of Nakhon Ratchasima (a.k.a. Khorat). Since there aren’t any flights between Nakhon Ratchasima and Bangkok, I would be taking an express train home.
PHANOM RUNG FESTIVAL
My first stop in Isan is Buriram, a province whose namesake capital has emerged in recent years as a sporting destination. The town is home to one of the best-performing football teams in the country, and its five-year-old Chang International Circuit will play host to Thailand’s second MotoGP event this October. Phil Ramsey, a visitor who attended the inaugural races last year, recalled a “fun crowd” and touted it as a “brilliant first GP for the kingdom, with a very strong position to build into one of the best on the calendar.” Another reveler praised the e-tan, or farmers’ trucks, used during the MotoGP as a shuttle service to and from the venue.
But now, in early April, all is quiet at Chang International Circuit and the grandstands are devoid of spectators. I’ve come to Buriram for something quite different: the Phanom Rung Festival, an extravaganza that takes place at an 800-year-old Khmer temple.
Phanom Rung may not have the global fame of Angkor Wat, but it should. The temple is exceptionally beautiful and boasts a dramatic location, sitting atop the forested slopes of
an extinct volcano surrounded by paddy fields. The alignment of it is such that several times a year, the rising and setting sun shines through all 15 portals along the central axis to create an arresting visual spectacle. It is indeed extraordinary how ancient peoples could build their monuments with such accuracy, and there is a widely held belief in Isan that those who witness the fabled Phanom Rung sunrise will soon receive good luck. The three-day Phanom Rung Festival is a celebration of this solar phenomenon. In a way, it brings back a measure of the temple’s heyday through much pageantry and a riot of color: there is a stunning procession to honor the gods, traditional dance performances, and the festival sees opening hours extended beyond the usual times so visitors can enjoy fireworks displays as well as sound and light shows.
The excitement is palpable in the air as I take my place beside Phanom Rung’s wide ceremonial pathway in anticipation of the proceedings. To a soundtrack of traditional folk music, mostly string instruments and drums played over speakers, the procession finally begins with eight men carrying a float adorned with the image of the Thai king. Another 20 men bearing yellow and red banners follow, as do several groups of women in finely embroidered dresses wearing intricate crowns atop their perfectly coifed heads. Once the women have passed, a collection of muscular men styled as ancient warriors appear on the hilltop and blow horns as fireworks explode on the impressive ceremonial pathway.
One by one, groups from different regions parade by, each one carrying a different statue. The first group carries an elephant so unwieldy it requires a dozen sturdy men to lift it. They are accompanied by barechested men hoisting more colorful banners and women holding golden cups filled with flowers. Once all the statues have been taken into the main temple, the participants spread out in formation along the ruins and perform a captivating dance sequence. I feel as though I’ve stumbled onto a movie set.
The end of the dance signals that the fun is just getting started. Hungry
Several times a year, the rising and setting sun shines through all 15 portals along the central axis of Phanom Rung.
from parading or parade-watching, everyone mobs the nearby food stalls. I eagerly join them. At sunset, as the sky fades to a pale orange, the main temple is illuminated with psychedelic lights during the booming sound and light show, which features a play recounting the history of Phanom Rung. I leave the festival 14 hours after arriving, utterly exhausted but happy, already making plans to return the next year.
SURIN
From Nang Rong, I travel 1.5 hours by taxi east to Surin, a city of about 40,000 people. In a strange way, Isan reminds me a lot of my native Oklahoma. It’s the flat landscape and endless tracts of farmland, the slow pace of life, the towns full of religious buildings, and of course, a populace that is friendly and hospitable to a fault. Everywhere I go, especially in Surin, curious local residents often stop to chat with me. Most are genuinely surprised to see a Western tourist.
That evening, dinner awaits at Surin’s bustling night market, where I am practically bathed in the mouthwatering aroma of frying garlic and grilled meats as vendors cook up pad thai in massive woks, roast chicken on skewers, and deep-fry tasty looking desserts. I wander the stalls paralyzed by indecision, unsure of what to eat amid the cornucopia of street food. As hunger looms, I have an epiphany – I’ll do as the Thais and eat a little bit of everything! My chosen appetizer is skewered sai
krok Isan, or Isan sausage, which proves to be a quasi-religious experience from the first bite. The regional specialty is made from fermented pork, sticky rice, and bits of garlic: a simple yet tantalizing symphony of flavors. Next, I have
krapow moo, minced pork stir-fried with chilies and basil, which leaves my mouth happily burning with spiciness. And for dessert? I end up devouring a coconut pancake. Afterward, I find a pedal taxi to drive me back to my lodgings because I am simply too full to walk.
The next morning, the ever-helpful owner of my guesthouse recommends a visit to the Surin National Museum and loans me his personal bike for the day. Apart from Khmer artifacts, the museum also reveals insights about the various ethnic groups in the region. Surin has more domesticated elephants than anywhere else in the world and one