As a way to cerebrate occasions such as weddings, childbirth, leaving on a journey, and recovery from illness, relatives and friends as well as neighbors come together to hold this ceremony. The Baci held yesterday was to congratulate my friend for having their first grandchild, and all the relatives were gathering around the young mother and father and their baby boy to give their blessings. My friend was saying "Today's gathering is only for close relatives," but I believe that the number of adults alone was reaching almost sixty.

We stayed on the floor during the ceremony. They hung a bunch of white tacking threads about thirty centimeters long on an ornament made of banana leaves and marigold, and placed it in the middle. Then, as offerings, they laid a banana, boiled chicken, egg, and money around it. A conjurator sat down right in front of the ornament, and the people to be given blessing sat on the opposite side. The gifts we had brought (whisky and perfume; because we didn't know that this invitation was for a celebration for the baby, our gifts turned out to be such ridiculous things) were also placed around the ornament. Then the guests took seats around the whole thing. The three people to be blessed were holding the white threads hanging down from the ornament in the middle. Then the conjurator began to give his prayer. What he was wearing was nothing special but just a normal shirt and pants. Yet, there was a scarf made of the Laotian fabrics on his shoulders. It seems that this scarf is essential in Baci and other religious ceremonies as a way to express the feeling of devoutness. All the guests were joining their hands in prayer. The prayer was given in mixture of the Lao language and Pali. Some of the guests were often uttering "Ah-" or "Ho-" as if to harmonize with the prayer being given by the conjurator. Then, finally, we all leaned forward and extended our arms toward the ornament in the middle, and the prayer, which had lasted approximately for twenty minutes, was over. At that time, those sitting too far from the ornament touched the elbows of the people who were reaching it, and subsequently, those sitting even farther joined in the chain by doing the same in turns so that the divine grace would reach every one of us.

When the prayer was over, they pulled the white threads out of the ornament and wrapped them around everyone's wrists. The great-grandmother, grandmother, and grandfather of the baby were murmuring to the baby and his parents while winding the white threads around their wrists. They seemed to be saying something like "I wish you to be grow up in good health" or "I wish you a healthy and successful life in the future." They were putting money with the threads around the baby's wrist. I too wished them something in Japanese while doing the winding. The great-grandmother and the father did the winding also onto me. Now, I have seven lines of threads around my wrist. It is said that if you keep the threads on you for three days, good fortune would be likely to stay on your side. I heard that some people wouldn't take them off and just leave them until they come off naturally.

Then, the dinner was served. For a start, there was a Laotian noodle dish. After filling our plates with a portion of rice noodle quite similar to the Japanese somen, we put some thin stripes of cabbages, raw bean sprouts, tiny pieces of green onions, and thin stripes of banana flower on the top, and then poured soup over it. I felt that the crispness of the uncooked vegetables was quite ill-matched with the stickiness of the noodles, and I didn't really like it. They said that this is an essential dish for Baci. Then we were served with more and more dishes such as Laotian meat salad, vegetable salad, fish soup, and barbeque on the table one after another, and I was completely amazed at the great volume of food and even worried, "They've prepared so many dishes. I wonder what they'd do if we can't finish everything." Because seven or nine is said to be the lucky number of dishes to be served for Baci, there we had seven dishes accordingly. We all were on the floor around small tables while eating, but the women were sitting only with other women and the men only with the men at each table.

How was it possible for sixty people to sit down and have a meal together? ...I bet you'd wonder too. But we certainly could. That house was unbelievably huge as if it were a gymnasium. The living room where the Baci was held was just spacious that it has enough room for a volleyball court and more. I'd guess that the ceiling was also about five meters or so in height. In addition, there were eight bedrooms. I heard that the biggest bedroom was about half the size of that living room. It was a Laotian house on stilts, which has been becoming quite rare even in Vientiane, and they said that as it was almost eighty years old already, they would like to preserve it in a good condition by providing a proper maintenance.

It is said that the ceremony of Baci is also being performed in Thailand, though only in the northeastern region. The other day I found out that Ms. Simon's mother was originally from Thailand. She had come to Laos to work when she was young, and she happened to get married to a Laotian and then ended up living out her life in this country. As Ms. Simon has a good command of Thai both in speaking and reading, I had always been thinking, "She is brilliant..." but never expected her mother to be Thai. But as for her, she says, "There is no difference between Thailand and Laos," and she doesn't seem to be looking on them as two separated countries. Those who share very similar appearances as well as languages might not see any difference between the two countries except that they are separated by a river. Is that why they can feel that way? For me who have grown up in an island, Japan, such kind of feeling is a bit incomprehensible but also enviable.

Translated by Maiko Noda