11/9/2004 Bangkok. Once again at the China Town Hotel. A busy couple of days.  Yesterday...Went to Chatachuak Market by Skytrain (the El of Bangkok).  35 here.  Hard to imagine a crisp fall morning in Fahrenheit can mean 95 humid degrees, but it not only can, it does.

The market had row after row of merchandise of all kinds:  Thai silk, sacred objects of many kinds, shoes, brassiers, large (and I mean large) rocks...yes, rocks.  Dinnerware, some nice Celadon.  Art.  Knives.  Guns.  Hats from straw to cloth.  Fruit wrapped in plastic bags:  jack fruit, mango, pineapple, rose apple, bananas.  Water for only 10 baht, about a 25 cents.

I found a turtle for Kate (number 4, I think) and a couple of Celadon pieces with elephants done in unglazed clay.  Very nice.  Total?  Less than $12.00!  This place makes Sams Club look like a Cadillac drivers only shop.  If it wasn't for the literally claustrophobic heat and the crush of people, I'd go back in a Minnesota minute.

Speaking of Minnesota...I miss the cool weather a lot.

After the market Kwo and I went by Jim Thompson's house--a big deal here because he revived the Thai silk industry, then disappeared Jimmy Hoffa style in 1968.  Some people think he was CIA, others that he ran drugs.  Whatever, he's gone, but his silk shops define high end silk garments still.

We went by there on the way to a canal about 40 feet wide that cuts through Bangkok about a mile east of the Chao Praya.  Water taxis run on this canal, very long, thin boats driven by crazed Thais with either skill or a death-wish, I couldn't decide which.  Once you get in they use light rope to pull up a tarp that protects the passengers from river spray...see the death-wish reference above.

From there to the golden mount.  This and the Wat of the Emerald Buddha are key monuments to the Thai people.  Three Rama's (Kings) worked on building this tall mountain-like structure, partly because they chose real soft ground and the first King's efforts came to naught when the whole damned thing sank into the earth.  However, with monarchical persistence they kept at it.  Now the the mount is built and houses, under a golden stupa (a shape here oddly similar to the top of a soft-ice cream cone), an observatory with a great view of Bangkok, and another gold object with buddha reliefs facing the four directions.

I joined everyone else (every Thai else that is) and bought four pieces of gold leaf for 20 baht.  The idea is to put one piece of gold leaf on a buddha in each of the four directions, praying at each one.  It took me three tries to get more gold leaf on the Buddha than on my fingers, heat and gold leaf are a bad combination. Still, I liked the idea and the obvious syncretism of an animist idea and the Buddhist iconography appealed to me.

After this Kwo and I split up, she went onto another Wat (she saw one more before.  I saw some of it.),  I walked back to the New Empire in the heart of Chinatown.  A long hot walk.  But, the street life in Chinatown is worth a visit to this country anyhow. 

Later, we had dinner at the White Orchid, a hotel down the street.  The food was great, but I realized afterward I'd been in Bangkok three days and  had had no Thai food! (I fixed that at lunch about twenty minutes ago.)  There was a floor show with Chinese singers, so our waitress asked us to move further back--she seated us in this spot next to the stage in the first place--so I went but Kwo stayed to finish her meal.  I was done.

So, I was alone.  "Did you come all by yourself, honey?"  A tall person with lipstick, long straight hair, and a pant-suit asked in a gravely voice that confirmed what I thought--a transvestite.  I said no.

Not too odd  here.  The Miss World Transvestite beauty pageant finished over the weekend.

This morning the Royal Palace.  I have begun to sense what it must have been like to live under a monarch.  The king's stuff is so nice, so beyond what  you could ever hope for that the bond among king, state, people, and religion becomes seamless.  I, as a peasant, could look at the Palace grounds with their gold sofa has and their gold hang hongs, the Emerald Buddha, an emblem of Thailand as much as Garuda, Vishnu's fierce vehicle and feel a sense of pride, not envy.  I can't be king, but it is important to see my king do well, since his prosperity and security reflects the state of the nation.

Now, I can also see how that rationale would go stale when  you learned elsewhere folks shared a bit more equally, but the end result is not much different from the oligarchic nature of current American culture.

I sat on the floor of the temple of the Emerald Buddha this morning, legs carefully tucked under me so my feet were behind, not in front, which is very bad juju.  While I sat trying to absorb what it would be like to sit there as a Buddhist, a group of kids came in and knelt down.  They were maybe 10/12 years old and all  had a nice t-shirt with palm trees and islands. 

With the sweetest face imaginable they put their hands together, thrust them out and up as they prostrated themselves three times.  They looked rapt.  Children approach faith so guilessly, not caught up in ecclesial politics or the politics of state, and the innocence and trust always gets to me.  As it did today.

I have found the opportunity to participate in the Deepavali festivities, and the Ramadan fast-breaking, and now visiting several Wats here in Bangkok that the faith of everyday folk points beyond us, and within us, to a truth, some truth, whatever it is, about the nature of the human soul.

Tomorrow I'm going to Atthuytha, an ancient capitol of Thailand.  These ruins and those of Angkor Wat are the primary reason I came here (aside from Mary and Mark) and I feel ready now, after almost two weeks here.

My love to you all,

Still in The Far East,

Still corresponding,

Charlie

Top