I get that not every visitor to Thailand is the wataholic that I am. I get it but don’t understand it. But then I don’t understand why some people think brussels sprouts are a gourmet treat either. The world is made up of people of every taste. Even when they have none. So okay, yet another gold-leaf incrusted statue of the Buddha doesn’t do it for you. How about a freak show promising a living Medusa, a two-headed baby, and a genuine mermaid instead then?

I know. That’s still a hard sell since you can see the salamander guy wiggling his way down the dirty sidewalks of Sukhumvit any night of the week. And a lot of the ladyboys he slithers past have got their freak on too. But throw in monks, games of chance, and carnival barkers’ cries that sound suspiciously familiar even though they are in Thai and there’s only one place in town you can get that experience: your local wat.

Buddhist holiday celebrations are common at Thailand’s wats. They are always a special occasion and visitors are treated to saffron decked processions and ceremonies they are not likely to experience at other times of the year. Temple fairs are a whole different ball game. Then Buddha takes a backseat to rides, games, fried food, and yes, even cotton candy. Though the fried bug stands are a lot more popular. The travelling carnival replete with side show may be a thing of the past back in the states, but are alive and well in Thailand. And the granddaddy of them all is held early every November at Bangkok’s Wat Saket, better known as the Temple of the Golden Mount.

Not that there are not plenty of religious observations going on during Wat Saket’s temple fair too. There are tons of monks about doing what Buddhist monks do, prayers being said by the basketful, incense sticks being lit by the thousands, and enough gold leaf being applied to every Buddhist related image and statue to rejuvenate the stockpile at Fort Knox. The wat’s humongous stupa is wrapped in an equally humongous red cloth, a more effective billboard than any ever devised by any ad agency, announcing to one and all that the temple fair is on; a barker’s cry answered by tens of thousands of Bangkokians. That sight too is enough to pique the interest of touri who have not become too jaded by a skyscape brimming with gleaming gold steeples reaching toward the heavens. No problemo. Go early, avoid some of the crowds and some of the heat and get your fill of Buddha and Buddhism. The come back at night for the real fun.

The fair runs for eight days – or maybe nine, possibly ten – carefully scheduled in any case I’m sure to provide every single resident of Bangkok an opportunity for visiting. Whichever day you choose to go you’ll swear is the same day everyone else in town picked too. But what could be claustrophobic thanks to the crushing mass of humanity is saved by the jovial mood of the crowd. Thais’ inner child is never more than a hair breadth away and the fun and excitement in the air is infectious. You have no choice but to be part of the herd, but an early evening arrival will help dissipate some of the long line waiting to make its way up the Mount’s 318 steps to the temple grounds. Or you could just practice the Asian technique of queue management and cut in at the front of the line.

Evangelical Christians back home protest Halloween celebrations every year because they are the work of the devil – ‘cuz that’s what Jesus would do. In Thailand the Buddhists erect a haunted house on their temple grounds. Not to mention a tilt-a-whirl, ferris wheel, and the aforementioned freak show. The haunted house may be a bit too much, but considering the temple’s grounds were once piled high with some 60,000 plague victim bodies waiting to be cremated . . . whose to say some of the ghosts aren’t real? And even salamander guy might consider himself luckier than he’d thought once he gazes upon the spectacle known as The Man With No Body.

Concession stands are everywhere, packed cheek to jowl and illuminated by naked bulbs hanging like fat, buzzing stars on strings, and in the carnival midway spirit offer patrons a game of chance – step right up, plunk down your baht, and find out if you are lucky enough to have won real designer goods or just a knock-off . . . better luck next time! But no one seems to care and whether its the latest Hollywood blockbuster on DVD (with Thai subtitles), cosmetics, shoes, clothing, costume jewelry, costume jewelry being sold as real silver, every tacky souvenir that has ever graced Bangkok’s street markets, or sunglasses you’ll have to wait in line to take your chance. If you are more of a traditionalist, there are lucky number lotteries and bingo to play too.

The food for sale may not be familiar to you, but the midway games will bring back memories of your childhood. With a Thai twist of course. There are darts to be thrown, balloons to be popped, guns to be poorly aimed, bamboo arrows to be launched, dunking tank victims hoping your aim sucks, and milk bottles to be knocked over – though in this case they’re 2 liter plastic soda pop bottles filled with a gaudy neon liquid. At around 20 baht a pop you can test your skill against the time honored slight of hand skills that make carnies the world over prosperous, winning just often enough to keep you forking over more baht to trade your winnings up to that oversized turquoise-blue plush dog your boy du jour has his heart and your wallet set on. No problemo. He knows it’s a con, you know it’s a con, but 500 baht later when you finally ‘win’ the damn thing you’ll both think you’re a hero.

Entertainment abounds too and lucky farang that you are you’ll easily be able to see over the rest of the crowds’ heads to catch a glimpse of puppets slaying each other, cultural dance performances, live music acts (and no, that’s singing not someone skinning cats) and even the occasional ladyboy act. You can have your fortune told by man or machine. Or both until you get one you like. And rumor has it there’s a candle lit procession up the hill nightly, though I’m not sure if you wait to see that parade you’ll have much of a chance of making it up the hill in time for the fair yourself.

Daytime the focus is more on religion and culture, nighttime – starting at 5 when the wat normally closes – it’s about partying. The surrounding streets come alive with an overflow of merchandise and food vendors intent on grabbing a few baht before fair goers blow their entire wad above at the temple’s grounds. Entertainment acts that didn’t make the cut amuse and serenade the crowd. And a line begins to form that soon reaches down the street, around the corner, and . . . I did tell you to go early, didn’t I?

There’s a lot of fun to be packed in before the fair closes at midnight, a lot of local delicacies to be tried before spewing your stomach’s contents out on the Tilt-A-Whirl. And then going back for more. The faces of local parents and children alike grin widely in anxious excitement as they move from carnival ride, to sideshow exhibit, though a never-ending selection of games, all hoping to get their fill before the neon lights start blinking off. The occasional farang face displays a different type of anxiety, eyeballing the rickety machinery passing for amusement park rides, knowing Thais believe more in the will of the Buddha than they do in safety standards. The temple’s novice monks too join in on the fun, those who have devoted their life to Buddha take a more staid approach and man the temple’s shrines instead, profiting from the size of the crowd as much as the temporary concessionaires.

Far too soon the rides begin to shut down, vendors begin packing their merchandise away, Medusa slips off her wig of snakes, The Man With No Body miraculously finds one, and a happy crowd begins making its way back down to the city streets below, the path even more crowded than hours before when they ascended the hill. With luck they may get the chance to visit again before the fair moves out of town. With careful planning – and good luck with that – they may make it back for the Loy Krathong celebration on the last night of the fair. But we don’t care. With a 40-something-year-old who cops to being a 30-something-year-old and acts like a 20-something-year-old stud’s arms wrapped lovingly around the oversized turquoise-blue plush dog I won for him which he has christened yet again ‘Dawg’ our night has just begun; the freak show of Soi Twilight still awaits.

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