Morning in Isaan

I was about to begin my familiar morning stroll through the village, when I was hurriedly waved over to my neighbor's red teak house. Inside the cramped room sat all of my 20 students and the families they adopted for their week long homestay. Our stay in the mountainous village was ending this morning, but the villagers seemed to have one last gift to share with us.
Everyone sat in a crooked circle. A long, thin white string was held by each persons' praying hand, connecting everyone. A wrinkled jolly man, dressed in a stiff white cotton shirt and pants began to chant in slow, undiscerning Isaan. A minute in to the chant, he suddenly picked up velocity and everyone in the room cried "Madur, madur quan uie (come, come spirits)". As the chanting subsided a glass of rice whiskey was passed around, everyone sharing a sip from the same glass. Then every Thai person in the room broke out in different directions holding little pieces of strings. Mother and and fathers found their adopted farang children and tied a string around their wrist symbolizing a tying of the spirit to their body as they traveled back home. Other villagers made their rounds to every student and wished them good luck, health and a return to their village. Sweet potato and boiled eggs began the morning's breakfast as the female elders shoved the alter food in everyone's mouths with wrinkled hands. It's a beautiful display of Isaan community. The atmosphere of which changes instantly as one of the younger women stands up and turns on the stereo to the sounds of reggaeton. Globalization never ceases to create the most bizarre situations out here...