Luang Prabang awoke to the sounds of drums, chanting monks, and crowds of locals and visitors dressed in their finest traditional Lao clothing.
It’s 17 April, and one of the most revered moments of Pi Mai—the Lao New Year—is taking place: the sacred procession of the Prabang, the Buddha image for which Luang Prabang is named.
Monks and city leaders carried the statue from its shrine in the Ho Prabang, located within the former Royal Palace grounds, to Wat Mai Temple, where it will remain for three days.
During this time, people from across the country will come to pour water over the statue, a ritual known as song nam phra, to show respect and ask for blessings for the year ahead.
The Prabang, cast from a sacred mix of bronze, silver, and gold, stands 83 centimeters tall and weighs 43 kilograms. The Buddha is shown in the Abhayamudra, or “Dispelling Fear,” posture—hands raised, palms forward, offering peace and protection.
Though legend traces the statue’s origin to Sri Lanka, scholars believe it was made in the Khmer Empire.
Chronicles tell of its arrival in the Lao kingdom of Lan Xang in the 1350s, carried from Angkor in a grand procession led by the Khmer princess Keo Keng Nya, who had married King Fa Ngum.
The statue’s journey wasn’t smooth. Though it was meant for Xieng Thong (now Luang Prabang), it remained for a time in Vientiane, believed to be too heavy to carry further.
It was finally brought north in 1502 by King Visoun and placed first in Vat Manorom, then in Vat Visoun, built especially for it.
Over the centuries, the Prabang was moved, captured, and returned—including two periods of exile in Bangkok—before it was finally reinstalled in Laos in 1867.
It has been housed in the Ho Prabang shrine since 2013, but is brought out only once a year, for Pi Mai.
Local men preceding the Prabang statue in the annual sacred procession from the Ho Prabang shrine to Wat Mai in Luang Prabang on 17 April. (Photo: Oulayvanh Sisounonth)
Why 2025 Is Also 2568 and 1387
While much of the world celebrates the new year on 1 January, Lao New Year follows a different system—one that’s based on more than one calendar.
Pi Mai usually takes place from 14-16 April, but its meaning runs deeper than just those three days. It marks a spiritual transition from the old year to the new, observed with cleansing rituals, ceremonies, and celebrations across the country.
This year, the internationally used Gregorian calendar calls it 2025. But Laos observes two distinct calendars: the Chula Sakkharat and the Buddhist Era (B.E.) calendar, each marking the New Year on different dates and based on different astronomical principles.
The Chula Sakkharat calendar begins from the year 638 CE. This is a solar calendar that determines the New Year when the Sun enters Aries, typically around 16 April. This date marks the beginning of the solar year and is based on the Earth’s orbit around the Sun.
Historically, this calendar was also used in Thailand until it was replaced by the Buddhist Era calendar in 1889. By that count, this year is 1387.
In contrast, the Buddhist Era calendar is a lunisolar system that incorporates both lunar cycles and the solar year. The New Year in this calendar falls on the full moon day in May, aligning with the Visakha month. This date commemorates significant events in the life of the Buddha, including his birth, enlightenment, and death.
The Buddhist calendar conventionally begins in 543 BC, which is believed to be the year the Buddha passed away. According to this system, 2025 is the year 2568.
Depending on which calendar is being used, the Lao New Year in 2025 can be called either the year 1387 (Chula Sakkharat) or 2568 (Buddhist calendar).
https://www.tourismlaos.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/IMG_0300-2048x1365-1.jpeg13652048Sylivanla Vongphachanhhttps://www.tourismlaos.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Lao-Simply-Beautiful-.webpSylivanla Vongphachanh2025-04-27 09:16:542025-04-22 09:19:27Three Calendars, One Celebration: Luang Prabang Enters New Year with Sacred Prabang Buddha Procession
When “Sa Tu”, or “Sathu,” is not only heard in the temple but echoed through pop rap music, it takes on new meaning.
For Hope ‘Hopii’ Thammavongsa, a 25-year-old Lao-American artist from Lawrenceville, Georgia, that word became an anthem of cultural pride.
Hope’s song has recently gained widespread popularity, particularly within the Lao-American community. The track has been welcomed for its fusion of Lao cultural elements with modern pop rap, resonating with listeners seeking representation and cultural pride in mainstream music.
Laos is a predominantly Buddhist country where the word Sa Tu (ສາທຸ) means “good” on a deep spiritual level. It’s traditionally used during blessings, often repeated three times to show respect for a person who can discipline body, speech, and mind.
“It’s like, I got to represent my Lao people from there and from here,” said Hope. “Because in America, in Georgia, where I grew up, they were always like, are you Korean? Are you Chinese? Everything but Lao.”
That feeling of being unseen pushed Hope to write a song where she could proudly represent her heritage. In the song’s bridge, she breaks it down:
“We gon say one thing, it’s got two syllables, it’s quite very simple. It’s like amen but just a tad Laotian, so say it loud, say it proud, say it with me: Sa Tu, Sa Tu, Sa Tu.”
The idea for the song came after Hope attended Sabaidee Fest in Los Angeles last year—a festival celebrating Southeast Asian culture, music, and identity.
“They’re my inspiration because if they’re in Laos doing music and I’m in Georgia, I can do music too, we can all do music,” she said.
That realization motivated her to finish the song, not knowing it would become a defining moment in her music career.
Because Sa Tu is considered a sacred word, traditionally used in temples or during blessings, Hope felt some hesitation about using it in a rap song. Still, she followed her instincts.
“There will be people out there that might not like it, but I really like it. And I’m really proud of what I did with the song and with the lyrics, trying to kind of explain to people who aren’t Laotian what Sa Tu is. Like it’s special,” she said.
Hope also hopes her music spreads joy and brings people of different backgrounds together.
“With my music, I want to show that an Asian person can be anywhere and everywhere just like anybody else. So I think that’s my purpose,” she stated.
The Journey
Hope’s love for music began at 15, singing with her uncle’s band. She started songwriting at 19 with her first song, Worthy, and by 23, she had released her debut album featuring four original tracks—marking her entry into the music world.
Navigating between two cultures—American and Lao—has deeply influenced her identity. While it can be difficult, Hope sees it as a strength.
“Being a Lao American, you really are living a double life. You have to balance American culture and then also being Laotian and trying to balance it. Sometimes I feel like I’m not Lao enough,” she said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not American enough, but I’m grateful for both sides.”
The Process
Hope made a bold and creative choice by sampling the sound of a Lao parade at the start of her song. She opens it with the phrase “Heui Ya,” a term often heard in traditional Lao music, blending it seamlessly into a pop rap beat.
She spent a couple of hours writing the lyrics, but it took two months to find the perfect melody to bring the track to life.
The music video is currently in production and will be filmed in four locations, each with its own atmosphere. The first shoot takes place at Wat Lao Buddha Khanti in Snellville—the temple where Hope grew up. For this scene, she’ll be wearing a traditional Lao outfit.
Two more scenes will be filmed in different local parks, and the final scene will be at her grandmother’s house. Hope shared how much her family’s support has meant to her.
Though Hope lives far from her parents’ homeland, Lao traditions remain central to her life. Every year, she and her family celebrate Lao New Year together.
“I honestly wouldn’t be here if they didn’t come from Laos to America,” Hope said.
In Georgia, the Lao community celebrates with water fights, good food, shopping, and family time.
The next morning, Hope and her family take part in Tak Baat—giving alms to monks as part of the traditional celebration.
Every April, when the weather hits its peak and the heat sets in, the streets of Laos fill with people, celebration, and plenty of water. It’s Pi Mai Lao — the Lao New Year — a three-day celebration marked by deep-rooted spirituality, joyful chaos, and a reverence for the past, present, and future.
Also known as Boun Pi Mai, the festival is the most anticipated event of the year. From April 14 to 16, families reunite, towns transform into playgrounds, and ancient legends take center stage in colorful parades.
But beyond the water fights and festivities lies a rich story, one that ties together myth, religion, and community.
Day One: Letting Go of the Old
The first day of Pi Mai marks the end of the old year. Across the country, homes are swept clean, food is prepared, and offerings are brought to temples in a quiet but meaningful ritual of readiness.
At Buddhist temples, monks carry sacred Buddha images from the sim (the main hall) and place them in decorative shrines. Here, locals gather for the Song Pha ceremony, gently pouring scented water mixed with flowers over the statues. It is a gesture of respect and a prayer for blessings.
The water used in this ritual is considered holy. Many bring it home to sprinkle on their families and around the house, a symbolic act meant to wash away bad luck and cleanse the spirit for the year ahead.
Sprinkling holy water on Buddha statues.
Day Two: The Day of No Day
The second day, 15 April is known as Wan Nao, or “the day of no year.” It doesn’t belong to either the past or the future, a transitional space between old and new.
Traditionally, this is a time for continued cleaning, reflection, and respect. Elders encourage younger generations to avoid napping, as it’s believed laziness on this day could bring misfortune in the coming year. Instead, the young are urged to stay active, pay visits to village elders, and perform blessings by pouring water over their hands while offering good wishes.
Then, the fun begins. Streets become stages for spontaneous water fights. With buckets, hoses, and water guns, people of all ages join in a citywide soaking, not just for fun, but to symbolically cleanse the past and welcome the new.
Day Three: Welcoming the New Year
The third and final day is the official beginning of the new year. It’s a day filled with symbolism and celebration, as towns and cities across Laos host the much-anticipated Nang Sang Khan parade.
Chosen for her grace and poise, Miss Lao New Year rides through the city on a symbolic animal, representing good fortune and the spirit of the holiday. Her presence reflects an ancient story passed down through generations, one that still guides the essence of Pi Mai.
At home, many families gather for a Baci ceremony — a spiritual ritual to call good spirits back into the body and secure good luck for the months ahead. Elders are offered kind words, small gifts, and apologies for any misdeeds from the previous year. The mood is hopeful, sincere, and heartwarming.
By evening, the sacred Buddha statues are returned to the temple, signaling the close of the holiday and the return to daily life.
The Legend Behind the Celebration
Pi Mai Lao is steeped in a myth that helps explain many of the holiday’s most iconic customs. The story begins with King Kabinlaphom, a powerful figure who lost a challenge and was beheaded. His head, said to possess destructive power, could never touch the ground, sky, or sea.
To prevent catastrophe, his seven daughters placed it on Mount Sumeru, a sacred mountain in Buddhist cosmology. Every year since, one daughter takes her turn to care for the head during Lao New Year. This symbolic act brings blessings, happiness, and good weather for the year ahead.
In modern celebrations, this legend is reenacted through the Nang Sang Khan parade. The daughter who leads the parade is determined by the day of the week on which the new year begins.
Each of the king’s daughters is uniquely represented:
Wednesday: Montha Thevi, in emerald green, rides a donkey.
Thursday: Khilini Thevi, in greenish-yellow, rides an elephant.
Friday: Khimita Thevi, in white, rides a buffalo.
Saturday: Mahothone Thevi, in black, rides a peacock.
Sunday: Thoungsa Thevi, in red, rides a Garuda.
Each carries symbolic objects and has distinct traits, adding color and meaning to the grand parade.
While tourists may be drawn to the spectacle of water fights and parades, for Lao people, Pi Mai is much more. It’s a spiritual renewal, a chance to reconnect with family and community, and a heartfelt wish for peace, health, and happiness in the year ahead.
https://www.tourismlaos.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/WhatsApp-Image-2025-04-14-at-09.09.58_00e9753e.jpg6271200Sylivanla Vongphachanhhttps://www.tourismlaos.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Lao-Simply-Beautiful-.webpSylivanla Vongphachanh2025-04-25 09:08:222025-04-22 09:10:03Splashing into the New Year: A Brief Story Behind Pi Mai Lao
Three Calendars, One Celebration: Luang Prabang Enters New Year with Sacred Prabang Buddha Procession
Luang Prabang awoke to the sounds of drums, chanting monks, and crowds of locals and visitors dressed in their finest traditional Lao clothing.
It’s 17 April, and one of the most revered moments of Pi Mai—the Lao New Year—is taking place: the sacred procession of the Prabang, the Buddha image for which Luang Prabang is named.
Monks and city leaders carried the statue from its shrine in the Ho Prabang, located within the former Royal Palace grounds, to Wat Mai Temple, where it will remain for three days.
During this time, people from across the country will come to pour water over the statue, a ritual known as song nam phra, to show respect and ask for blessings for the year ahead.
The Prabang, cast from a sacred mix of bronze, silver, and gold, stands 83 centimeters tall and weighs 43 kilograms. The Buddha is shown in the Abhayamudra, or “Dispelling Fear,” posture—hands raised, palms forward, offering peace and protection.
Though legend traces the statue’s origin to Sri Lanka, scholars believe it was made in the Khmer Empire.
Chronicles tell of its arrival in the Lao kingdom of Lan Xang in the 1350s, carried from Angkor in a grand procession led by the Khmer princess Keo Keng Nya, who had married King Fa Ngum.
The statue’s journey wasn’t smooth. Though it was meant for Xieng Thong (now Luang Prabang), it remained for a time in Vientiane, believed to be too heavy to carry further.
It was finally brought north in 1502 by King Visoun and placed first in Vat Manorom, then in Vat Visoun, built especially for it.
Over the centuries, the Prabang was moved, captured, and returned—including two periods of exile in Bangkok—before it was finally reinstalled in Laos in 1867.
It has been housed in the Ho Prabang shrine since 2013, but is brought out only once a year, for Pi Mai.
Why 2025 Is Also 2568 and 1387
While much of the world celebrates the new year on 1 January, Lao New Year follows a different system—one that’s based on more than one calendar.
Pi Mai usually takes place from 14-16 April, but its meaning runs deeper than just those three days. It marks a spiritual transition from the old year to the new, observed with cleansing rituals, ceremonies, and celebrations across the country.
This year, the internationally used Gregorian calendar calls it 2025. But Laos observes two distinct calendars: the Chula Sakkharat and the Buddhist Era (B.E.) calendar, each marking the New Year on different dates and based on different astronomical principles.
The Chula Sakkharat calendar begins from the year 638 CE. This is a solar calendar that determines the New Year when the Sun enters Aries, typically around 16 April. This date marks the beginning of the solar year and is based on the Earth’s orbit around the Sun.
Historically, this calendar was also used in Thailand until it was replaced by the Buddhist Era calendar in 1889. By that count, this year is 1387.
In contrast, the Buddhist Era calendar is a lunisolar system that incorporates both lunar cycles and the solar year. The New Year in this calendar falls on the full moon day in May, aligning with the Visakha month. This date commemorates significant events in the life of the Buddha, including his birth, enlightenment, and death.
The Buddhist calendar conventionally begins in 543 BC, which is believed to be the year the Buddha passed away. According to this system, 2025 is the year 2568.
Depending on which calendar is being used, the Lao New Year in 2025 can be called either the year 1387 (Chula Sakkharat) or 2568 (Buddhist calendar).
Happy Pi Mai Lao 2568—or 1387!
Source: https://laotiantimes.com/2025/04/17/three-calendars-one-celebration-luang-prabang-enters-new-year-with-sacred-prabang-buddha-procession/
Lao-American Rapper Hopii Turns Blessings into Bars
When “Sa Tu”, or “Sathu,” is not only heard in the temple but echoed through pop rap music, it takes on new meaning.
For Hope ‘Hopii’ Thammavongsa, a 25-year-old Lao-American artist from Lawrenceville, Georgia, that word became an anthem of cultural pride.
Hope’s song has recently gained widespread popularity, particularly within the Lao-American community. The track has been welcomed for its fusion of Lao cultural elements with modern pop rap, resonating with listeners seeking representation and cultural pride in mainstream music.
Laos is a predominantly Buddhist country where the word Sa Tu (ສາທຸ) means “good” on a deep spiritual level. It’s traditionally used during blessings, often repeated three times to show respect for a person who can discipline body, speech, and mind.
“It’s like, I got to represent my Lao people from there and from here,” said Hope. “Because in America, in Georgia, where I grew up, they were always like, are you Korean? Are you Chinese? Everything but Lao.”
That feeling of being unseen pushed Hope to write a song where she could proudly represent her heritage. In the song’s bridge, she breaks it down:
“We gon say one thing, it’s got two syllables, it’s quite very simple. It’s like amen but just a tad Laotian, so say it loud, say it proud, say it with me: Sa Tu, Sa Tu, Sa Tu.”
The idea for the song came after Hope attended Sabaidee Fest in Los Angeles last year—a festival celebrating Southeast Asian culture, music, and identity.
“They’re my inspiration because if they’re in Laos doing music and I’m in Georgia, I can do music too, we can all do music,” she said.
That realization motivated her to finish the song, not knowing it would become a defining moment in her music career.
Because Sa Tu is considered a sacred word, traditionally used in temples or during blessings, Hope felt some hesitation about using it in a rap song. Still, she followed her instincts.
“There will be people out there that might not like it, but I really like it. And I’m really proud of what I did with the song and with the lyrics, trying to kind of explain to people who aren’t Laotian what Sa Tu is. Like it’s special,” she said.
Hope also hopes her music spreads joy and brings people of different backgrounds together.
“With my music, I want to show that an Asian person can be anywhere and everywhere just like anybody else. So I think that’s my purpose,” she stated.
The Journey
Hope’s love for music began at 15, singing with her uncle’s band. She started songwriting at 19 with her first song, Worthy, and by 23, she had released her debut album featuring four original tracks—marking her entry into the music world.
Navigating between two cultures—American and Lao—has deeply influenced her identity. While it can be difficult, Hope sees it as a strength.
“Being a Lao American, you really are living a double life. You have to balance American culture and then also being Laotian and trying to balance it. Sometimes I feel like I’m not Lao enough,” she said. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not American enough, but I’m grateful for both sides.”
The Process
Hope made a bold and creative choice by sampling the sound of a Lao parade at the start of her song. She opens it with the phrase “Heui Ya,” a term often heard in traditional Lao music, blending it seamlessly into a pop rap beat.
She spent a couple of hours writing the lyrics, but it took two months to find the perfect melody to bring the track to life.
The music video is currently in production and will be filmed in four locations, each with its own atmosphere. The first shoot takes place at Wat Lao Buddha Khanti in Snellville—the temple where Hope grew up. For this scene, she’ll be wearing a traditional Lao outfit.
Two more scenes will be filmed in different local parks, and the final scene will be at her grandmother’s house. Hope shared how much her family’s support has meant to her.
Though Hope lives far from her parents’ homeland, Lao traditions remain central to her life. Every year, she and her family celebrate Lao New Year together.
“I honestly wouldn’t be here if they didn’t come from Laos to America,” Hope said.
In Georgia, the Lao community celebrates with water fights, good food, shopping, and family time.
The next morning, Hope and her family take part in Tak Baat—giving alms to monks as part of the traditional celebration.
Source: https://laotiantimes.com/2025/04/15/lao-american-rapper-hopii-turns-blessings-into-bars/
Splashing into the New Year: A Brief Story Behind Pi Mai Lao
Every April, when the weather hits its peak and the heat sets in, the streets of Laos fill with people, celebration, and plenty of water. It’s Pi Mai Lao — the Lao New Year — a three-day celebration marked by deep-rooted spirituality, joyful chaos, and a reverence for the past, present, and future.
Also known as Boun Pi Mai, the festival is the most anticipated event of the year. From April 14 to 16, families reunite, towns transform into playgrounds, and ancient legends take center stage in colorful parades.
But beyond the water fights and festivities lies a rich story, one that ties together myth, religion, and community.
Day One: Letting Go of the Old
The first day of Pi Mai marks the end of the old year. Across the country, homes are swept clean, food is prepared, and offerings are brought to temples in a quiet but meaningful ritual of readiness.
At Buddhist temples, monks carry sacred Buddha images from the sim (the main hall) and place them in decorative shrines. Here, locals gather for the Song Pha ceremony, gently pouring scented water mixed with flowers over the statues. It is a gesture of respect and a prayer for blessings.
The water used in this ritual is considered holy. Many bring it home to sprinkle on their families and around the house, a symbolic act meant to wash away bad luck and cleanse the spirit for the year ahead.
Day Two: The Day of No Day
The second day, 15 April is known as Wan Nao, or “the day of no year.” It doesn’t belong to either the past or the future, a transitional space between old and new.
Traditionally, this is a time for continued cleaning, reflection, and respect. Elders encourage younger generations to avoid napping, as it’s believed laziness on this day could bring misfortune in the coming year. Instead, the young are urged to stay active, pay visits to village elders, and perform blessings by pouring water over their hands while offering good wishes.
Then, the fun begins. Streets become stages for spontaneous water fights. With buckets, hoses, and water guns, people of all ages join in a citywide soaking, not just for fun, but to symbolically cleanse the past and welcome the new.
Day Three: Welcoming the New Year
The third and final day is the official beginning of the new year. It’s a day filled with symbolism and celebration, as towns and cities across Laos host the much-anticipated Nang Sang Khan parade.
Chosen for her grace and poise, Miss Lao New Year rides through the city on a symbolic animal, representing good fortune and the spirit of the holiday. Her presence reflects an ancient story passed down through generations, one that still guides the essence of Pi Mai.
At home, many families gather for a Baci ceremony — a spiritual ritual to call good spirits back into the body and secure good luck for the months ahead. Elders are offered kind words, small gifts, and apologies for any misdeeds from the previous year. The mood is hopeful, sincere, and heartwarming.
By evening, the sacred Buddha statues are returned to the temple, signaling the close of the holiday and the return to daily life.
The Legend Behind the Celebration
Pi Mai Lao is steeped in a myth that helps explain many of the holiday’s most iconic customs. The story begins with King Kabinlaphom, a powerful figure who lost a challenge and was beheaded. His head, said to possess destructive power, could never touch the ground, sky, or sea.
To prevent catastrophe, his seven daughters placed it on Mount Sumeru, a sacred mountain in Buddhist cosmology. Every year since, one daughter takes her turn to care for the head during Lao New Year. This symbolic act brings blessings, happiness, and good weather for the year ahead.
In modern celebrations, this legend is reenacted through the Nang Sang Khan parade. The daughter who leads the parade is determined by the day of the week on which the new year begins.
Each of the king’s daughters is uniquely represented:
Monday: Kholaka Thevi, in yellow, rides a tiger.
Tuesday: Haksod Thevi, in light red, rides a pig.
Wednesday: Montha Thevi, in emerald green, rides a donkey.
Thursday: Khilini Thevi, in greenish-yellow, rides an elephant.
Friday: Khimita Thevi, in white, rides a buffalo.
Saturday: Mahothone Thevi, in black, rides a peacock.
Sunday: Thoungsa Thevi, in red, rides a Garuda.
Each carries symbolic objects and has distinct traits, adding color and meaning to the grand parade.
While tourists may be drawn to the spectacle of water fights and parades, for Lao people, Pi Mai is much more. It’s a spiritual renewal, a chance to reconnect with family and community, and a heartfelt wish for peace, health, and happiness in the year ahead.
Source: https://laotiantimes.com/2025/04/14/splashing-into-the-new-year-a-brief-story-behind-pi-mai-lao/