"The tourists come and stare at us" or "Oooo Heaven is a place on earth."

I literally just spent about 20 minutes trying to come up with good song lyrics to use as the title for this blog entry. I'm only somewhat satisfied with my choices, but there aren't a whole lot of pop songs about visiting Buddhist monuments and temples. Anyway...

A couple of days ago, I decided to go out on my own to check out some of the sights around Bangkok. Grant, Josh, and Mike had already seen a great deal of them, so I woke up earlier than them and headed out. About 4 hours and many taxi, tuk tuk, ferry, and train rides later, I felt very glad that I did. It was a hot day, but I got nearly all of the major religious tourist sights taken care of in one fell swoop.

The first stop was Wat Arun (Temple of the Dawn), a huge, steep structure that you can hike to the top of and get a fantastic view of the city. It's not too shabby as seen from the ground level, either. Here's was one of the first photos that I took that day:

Then I obviously wanted to hike to the top of the temple. When you get there, there is a beautiful yellow-orange cloth wrapped around the whole structure. Nearly all of writing on the cloth is in Thai, but it's mostly religious people leaving little prayers and notes. It's breezy up there, so watching it ripple in the wind is a pretty breathtaking sight. Here's a photo that hardly does it justice:

After Wat Arun, I hopped on a ferry to cross the river. The boat let me off right at Wat Pho, the amazing temple that houses Thailand's largest statue of the Reclining Buddha. I visited this temple while I was here on Semester at Sea, but it's sort of a must-see when you're in Bangkok. The Reclining Buddha represents Siddhartha's final passage into Nirvana, and the enormous statue at Wat Pho is something of an iconic symbol  in Thailand. It's hard to describe how beautiful it is to see in real life. It's gigantic and gold-colored with mother-of-pearl designs all over its back and feet. It takes up the entire building that houses it. When you initially walk in, you almost miss the forest through the trees. It takes a split second before you realize that all the gold you're seeing is the statue itself. Here's the best picture I could get:

After Wat Pho, I made a brief stop at the Lucky Buddha. To be frank, there was nothing terribly striking about that one. It was beautiful, to be sure, but it was average size and did not particularly stand out. However, next week marks the Chinese New Year, which is a big deal for a lot of people in Thailand, and the Lucky Buddha plays into that, I think.

After that, I went to Wat Indrawiharn, more commonly known as the Standing Buddha. This one is much less attended than Wat Pho's Reclining Buddha, and I'm not entirely sure why. As soon as I saw it, I was instantly reminded of that huge statue of Jesus in Brazil. It's really big, and I loved that there weren't a ton of other tourists around. Unfortunately, my camera ran out of charge by the time I got there, so I had to lift this picture off of Google:

One thing I love about visiting all of these religious monuments is the fact that they are all still in practical use. It's not just some outdated, obsolete religious structure that is only frequented by tourists like myself. When you visit these temples, you will see plenty of Thai laypeople as well as robed monks paying their respects to the Buddha. It's really amazing to watch all of those people kneel before the shrines to pray. Coupled with the scent of sweet incense, it's all quite a scene.

As always, the tourist-local dichotomy arises, too. It's a bit strange visiting these temples to snap photos of these places that are deeply important to the local communities. Of course, I can always rationalize it away quite easily by acknowledging the fact that my tourist entrance fees go directly to preserving and maintaining such beautiful places. However, it's still a troublesome dynamic. I suppose it would be the equivalent of a host of Japanese tourists walking into a Sunday church service in the U.S. and quietly snapping photos. Needless to say, all traveling is done with the best of intentions. We visit these places not to exploit them--and certainly not to destroy them--but, as I once heard Anthony Bourdain muse, "I'm afraid sometimes that because we take pleasure in showing people with these cameras how beautiful the place is that we help to destroy it. I hope we don't."

To be fair, all of the places I have visited thus far are established tourist destinations. I intend to make it off the beaten path a little bit in the coming months, but that's nearly impossible to do in Bangkok. Countless tourists have blazed this trail before me in the past decades. And, certainly, tourism is a huge industry in Thailand, and it pumps in a lot of money into the economy. But what makes me a bit ill at ease is the fact that giving money to the Thai economy has little to do with my motives in this country. I am traveling largely because I feel wonder and curiosity about places like this. So what does it mean for me--a white, non-religious, American--to snap photos of these awe-inspiring religious monuments alongside local Thais who are earnestly attempting to perform their sacred religious rites?

As I mentioned in my last entry, though, these are simply the realities of the modern world. For better or for worse, we are all connected through internet connections, social media, and economic interdependence. The last vestiges of unexplored corners of the earth have all but disappeared. At this point, we can only hope to interact and experience each other with a strong sense of moral responsibility. Like it or not, the histories of places like Southeast Asia are plagued by exploitation, colonial imperialism, and violence at the hands of Western powers. At least now, I guess we can count our blessings that the modern tourists in Bangkok mean no harm to the people and visit with a sense of awe and reverence. It allows me to rationalize this trip, but it's also a very real silver lining to a largely dark cloud of globalization in the marginal world.

OK, too heavy. I miss you all, and I can't wait to see you soon.

"Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."


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