I think I’ve mentioned that Buddhists tend to have holidays on every full moon. This time, this full moon, they went a little too far.
At 3:30 am, I was woken up by a loud procession passing by our house. There was singing, there was dancing, there was loud music, there were loudspeakers assisting them in this endeavor.
It was louder than I watch action movies during the noise of the day. It wasn’t one of those things that I could have slept through. It was louder than ambulance and police and firetruck sirens.
Think of that pesky teenage boy neighbor who blares his music and drives past. Think of how loud that is. Well, the good news for you is that, in that circumstance, the music (or noise, as some would call it – or as most would call it) at least is separated from you by a closed window. Usually.
Think of that window being open. Think of the music being loud enough to shake the car to the point of doing structural damage to the car.
Now you’re starting to get the picture.
Now keep in mind that this procession is going by foot, not by vehicle. That means that, yes, folks, it takes a while. The music approaches, it passes, it wanes. All told, from when it first woke me up to when it was finally quiet enough that I could sleep again, it was about an hour.
So.
Of course, if I’d had half a brain, I would have taken a picture of the procession because, as I said, it passed right by our house. I didn’t. As much as I was wide awake, it was under protest and I refused to allow my brain to operate under normal daytime conditions, which meant that all thought patterns such as that simply did not have the proper environment in which to occurr.
But when the music started to return at 5 am, my brain was more conducive to this line of thought.
Problem is that the procession didn’t come close enough. It only got as close as a couple of streets away. No photo opp.
Sorry.
If it happens again, and assuming I don’t get hauled away for homocide, I’ll post one then.
