Die and be reborn in a temple in Thailand: It only takes a minute and a half– and a coffin

by Jamie Rhein on

One of my favorite things to do in Thailand is to have a hand and foot massage. I feel rejuvenated afterward and it only takes 30 minutes. Plus, the massage is cheap and accessible. Hand and feet massage establishments are plentiful.

Here’s another way to rejuvenate in Thailand. At Wat Prommanee in Nakhon Nayok, about 60 miles north of Bangkok, you can climb into a big pink padded coffin for a few moments, and then climb out as a new person.

With high demand in the wanting-to-become-like-new-again department, visitors to the temple, hundreds of them, wait in line for their re-birthing experience. There are nine coffins, so it’s a stream-lined process. Monks, who also chant a dirge, tell people when to get in and get out.

The New York Times article, where I found out about this new opportunity to slough off the old and attract the new, provides these examples of what it is that gets people to climb into a coffin.

  • need for relaxation
  • prosperity
  • get rid of bad luck (the guy who said this had had a car accident and a break in.)
  • to win a soccer game (An entire soccer team showed up)

If traveling with your family, bring them along.

By the way, getting reborn isn’t free. It costs about $5. You can also pick up an amulet to take home.

If you do go, according to the article, don’t stand too close to the coffins while waiting your turn. You don’t want the bad karma being released from the people in the coffins to go right into you.

I’m wondering what happens if a person refuses to get out because a minute and a half just isn’t enough. Could you keep paying more money to stay in longer? Or do you have to get out, go to the end of the line and do it again?

“Bodies” exhibit: a personal experience

by Jamie Rhein on

About two years ago, I saw the “Bodies” exhibit when it was in Cleveland. As I found out when reading Jaunted, there is a problem with the New York City exhibit. Perhaps, some of the people who were turned into plastic sans skin didn’t have a say in the matter.

In the exhibit literature I saw, there were many assurances that the people on display had agreed to be a museum piece before their deaths. There were detailed explanations about how the bodies were preserved. In general, I felt partly fascinated and partly uneasy. I was fascinated because this was a wonderful way to see how the body is put together and how the muscles and skeleton actually work.

The uneasy part came from human bodies being turned into sculptures. It’s not as if there was a check off list where the donor could make a request to be turned into a skateboarder or a ballet dancer. I’ve never been that flexible. It’s odd to think I could be made to look that way down the road and people could walk around me to catch a glimpse at all angles. One body where it looked as if the body had been exploded into hundreds of pieces, the pieces hung from fine threads from a metal frame, also gave me pause. My first thought was, what a nightmare to move. Can you imagine what it’s like to avoid tangles? It was cool for sure, but weird. I have to admit, I did like it.

People do have an interest in weirdness. We like being fascinated and slightly repulsed at the same time. In this case, big money has been made, and the integrity of the exhibits, perhaps, are not as pristine as we would hope. There are nine more besides the one in New York City.

I’m surprised that it’s taken so long for people to get to the bottom of where exactly all these bodies have come from–although it may be one or two tainted bodies have slipped in from China through the cracks in an otherwise well thought out system. Just like some toys and toothpaste from China were found to be dangerous, not all. But, like toothpaste, a body may be questionable. The majority of the bodies, however, may be legitimate, and a chosen few get to look in death as if they could soar over buildings in a single bound.

Don’t. Look. Down. Spain’s El Caminito del Rey

by Jeremy Kressmann on

Afraid of heights? Don’t watch this video, shot along El Caminito del Rey, a mountain walkway near Malaga, Spain. This narrow, gut-wrenching path is only 3 feet wide, pinned along the side of a gorge, nearly 700 feet above the river below.

Originally built in 1901 to allow local workers to cross between two nearby waterfalls, El Caminito has recently fallen into a sad state of disrepair. Many parts of the walkway have completely collapsed, leaving nothing but a metal beam and a wire between you and 700 feet of nothing. Not surprisingly, there have been a number of deaths along the trail, and the local government has tried to seal it off.

But for some adrenaline junkies, a warning sign, tall fences and the prospect of a fatal slip-up is nothing but a challenge. Check out this video and watch one man laugh in the face of death.

What is it about Spain that inspires thrill-seekers to the utmost feats of poor judgment?

Out-living a small town in Appalachia

by Jamie Rhein on

This Sunday I went to my great-uncle’s funeral in Hindman, Kentucky. He was the youngest of 11 children and the last one living. Good-bye to that generation. It’s weird to have one layer of family gone. But, even more unsettling is a comment made by one of the people who gave a eulogy. He said that he moved to Hindman in 1956 and since then there are only two businesses still remaining. One is the Bank of Hindman. The other is the funeral home. As he said, my uncle, at age 82, had outlived his town.

I am sure that this is not an uncommon story. Drive through the rural parts of the U.S. and you’ll be met up with towns that do not resemble in the least what they once were. I saw several while driving through North Dakota on my way to Regent, a town that is also struggling.

Still, there’s Hindman and my uncle’s tale. He was the post master there for years and he owned the movie theater that doesn’t exist any more. He also ran the drive-in that hasn’t been around for a few decades. I’m not even sure where it was. It’s startling how fast change can occur to the point that much of a place is no longer recognizable. The vibrancy of life that existed in Hindman that my uncle captured with a movie camera back when my mother was a child is no where to be seen. Places like Hindman, as seen through the years of my uncle’s life, remind me of the line “Nothing gold can stay.”

In an interesting twist of irony, my uncle is not buried in the family cemetery that could very well be covered over by woods one day. Instead, he opted for the manicured perpetual care cemetery next door. I guess by watching his town dwindle over his lifetime, he decided to not take any more chances.

1 dead, 3 hurt in Swiss ski lift accident

by Justin Glow on

I’m scared of heights, and not afraid to admit it. To be fair, it’s not all heights that worry me; planes, for instance, do me no harm. But even the thought of particular situations make me a bit queasy. Hot air balloons, for instance, are the worst. A thin piece of fabric, a wicker basket, flames? No thanks. Another worrisome device that makes me nervous is the ski lift. Case in point:

Recently, near the Alpine Ski Resort in Grindelwald, Switzerland, one person was killed, and three injured when something terrible happened on a ski lift. The report is light on details, but you can let your mind wander with the horrors that come with someone dying on a ski lift. “Mountain rescue officials said other passengers on the chairlift had to be evacuated from the ground as high winds made the use of helicopters too dangerous.”

I’m sure more and more details will surface over the next few days. Until then, here are three tips for ski lift safety, from yours truly:

  1. Don’t get on a ski lift.
  2. Never go skiing. Ever.
  3. Why are you even leaving the house? It’s much safer inside…