“Pain?” the monk asked as the bamboo needle repeatedly pierced my flesh and my Sak Yant begun to take shape.
“No…. No, keep going, I am strong” I replied, knowing the only word of English he would understand was strong.
“Yes…. Now strong”, Ajran Rung agreed without stopping the Buddhist Sak Yant, or Yantra that was being etched on my back forever.
Arriving At the Temple for my Sak Yant
For years, I’d wanted a Sak Yant, and I was determined to feel every needle poke, every ounce of pain, every second of the experience.
The day had finally come and so here I was in the middle of nowhere backpacking Thailand, sitting in a shrine with a monk, an interpreter, and my mother getting a Buddhist tattoo……but as always I am getting ahead of myself.
Let’s flashback an hour.
I just sat there crossed legged opposite a monk as he rifled through old scrolls, and dusty papers full of magical tattoo designs.
I had no idea what Sak Yant Ajran (master) Rung was about to tattoo on me. In fact, I wasn’t even sure where on my body he was about to place this bamboo tattoo.
He was deep in thought about the meaning of the Buddhist tattoos and what Sak Yant I would soon be blessed with on somewhere on my body.
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