Carrie: The New Siam II is georgeous. Last night we were to tired to appreciate it. All the furniture is intricately carved and detailed. There is a koi pool by the check-in gate, and orchids and plants in pots everywhere. The lobby area is open to the outdoors, as all the stores seem to be. There are layers of porches for tourists to sit and watch the world and motorbikes go by. There is also a nice restaurant by the swimming pool where Eric and I had fantastic (and highly recommended) banana pancakes. I'm not sure we'll be able to enjoy bananas again; They just won't compare.
Bangkok is an interesting, noisy, and smelly city. Butch had me all worried about the septic stink, but its really the stale heat that offends. At 7:20 it was already 85 degrees. After breakfast, we got all sunscreened up (Mom will be proud!) and headed to an outdoor market. Its nothing more than a road where people set tables on the sidewalks and edges of the street. Everywhere there is color, yellow T-shirts, woven skirts, silk scarves, and knock-off bags, all right next to the shop that sells questionable, deep-fried things.
Eric: We saw some crazy stuff for sale buckets filled with whole, dried squid (...who wants a leathery squid?!), but also some really good stuff. We bought a dragonfruit (look it up on Google images, it's beautiful) for 15 baht, or 50 cents, from a sweet old woman. It has a really subtle, almost salty, flavor. Quite good. I needed temple-appropriate pants, so I got some light cargo pants for about 9 dollars, and Carrie got some really interesting pants/skirt thing for 6 dollars. The search for hats goes on.
After lunch (at an outdoor restaurant, and sticky rice with mango for dessert,) we saw the Grand Palace and the reclining Buddha at Wat Pho. Our friend Alicia put it best: Buddhism meets Vegas.
Carrie: Let me set the scene a little more. There is some built up anticipation before you enter, because they will stop you outside to make sure you are appropriately dressed. Women must wear skirts or long pants, shoulders covered. Men long pants and sleeves. It is hot, very hot, for people to be doing this, (especially if the long sleeved shirt you happened to pack is black.)
Then you enter. The buildings are gleaming white. They either curve up at the edges into snarling dragons or round toward the center like heaped dollops of whipped cream. Every surface is covered in small, diamond-shaped colored mirrors. Brilliant blues and greens. Sculptures are painted in white or gilt. There is a frozen populations of bird-people and tailed-humans, ten or more Atlas's hold up the Wat's outer rim. Every straight edge is carved in swirls or dragon's hide scales.
Any flat surface may have a Buddah image resting in meditation, and before him, half burned inscense, melted candles, and small boquets of banana flowers. There are wooden beams that support huge bells that one rings, apparently for luck. Most everything in Buddism seems to rely on the luck system. And nestled against these grand buildings there might be a little garden of orchids and stone animals. It's quite fantastic and clean, (I had flashbacks to Disney World.) which is a great contrast to the world ouside the gates. There are rows and rows of shoes where people slip off their sandals before entering the temple.
The temples are really quite large complexes with one large Wat, or in these major temples, perhaps two or more, all surounded by a stone wall and gate. The inside of the wall may have a dozen or more identical Buddahs in lotus position and larger than life under a small roof. The monks will dress these statues in gold scarves, wrapped over the shoulder. Different dress for each season. Around the Wat there are smaller buildings, equally decorated, that seem to have no distinct purpose. Though some are most certainly classrooms or places for the monks. The two wats we saw today were surprising empty of monks, mostly tourists or practicing Buddists.
There was also a museum, where they had stone and wood work from much older parts of the wat, which are now updated. Outside that spot was a cafe in the shade. We shared a dish of Haagendas, and it wasn't until some other tourists commented on the high price that we did the conversions. 250 baht for our two small scoops comes out to $7.50. Ouch. Eric was thinking in terms of $2.50. Lesson learned.
Eric: We saw the emerald Buddha, a statue carved from a single piece of jade and surrounded by as much gold (or gold paint) as you can imagine...better yet, use Google images to see pictures, as they didn't allow photography in the temple.
I was struck with similar feelings that I had when I saw a famous icon in the church on the Greek island of Tolo. In both cases, you have these relatively small artifacts surrounded by an insane amount of wealth in countries that are fairly poor (well, Greece isn't exactly a poor country, but the countryside and non-touristy islands sure are). I'm not criticizing or anything, in fact it might just be inspiring to see how important these are to their respective cultures, but it is a very particular feeling you get in the presence of these artifacts.
Carrie: After that we walked and walked to the wat for the Reclining Buddah. (Eric will remember the name of the temple and post some pictures.) This Buddah was huge and gold and shiny. The building is built to barely contain him, so that his resting head could almost touch the ceiling and the stretched out feet leave only enough room for viewers to pass. On the soles of his feet are scenes of his life depicted with mother of pearl. There is constantly a ting, ting sound. As you walk around Buddah's feet monks will sell you 1 baht coins in large batches, and then as you exit the temple, walking along Buddah's backside there are gold bowls to drop your baht coin donations into, ting, for good luck.
Let me refresh the moment for you. It is so so hot, as well as humid, 95 degrees, and we have been walking the exhaust clogged streets for blocks trying to find the temples and now we have the long journey back to the hotel, if we can find it. Everytime we dare pull out the map we are assulted by Tuk Tuk drivers. We are still in our long pants and sleeves. I am wearing sandals, which I have not done since August, and my feet are now raw where the straps rub between the toes. My dear Eric pauses every ten minutes or so to frame (very wonderful) pictures, while I stand in the sun waiting and sweating and worrying if I've got enough sunscreen.
Making our way back, we cross to a park for the shade. And there by the benches are a couple tossing corn for the pigeons. In a moment an old woman with a gummy smile brings us small bags of corn, gesturing take them. "How much?" we ask. But she shakes her head no,no. We ask several times, but she only gestures to toss the corn for the pigeons.
Meanwhile the birds are closing around, so we shrug and throw the corn. The birds are on top of each other trying to get closer. The old man that is with her pours another bag into my hands and the pigeons flutter up trying to hold on. Eric and I are laughing, and I squeal as I dare hold my hands out for them to eat from. The woman hands us more corn, setting it on Eric's bag, refusing to take it back. But finally, we won't stay and longer and turn to go. Ah, suddenly her English is quite good!
50 baht each bag, she counts out 1,2,3...9 bags. These are ridiculous prices! 20 baht will buy lunch. But her math isn's so good, and 9x50 equals 300, as Eric is quick to notice. He offers 210, pointing out in English, that the old man was pouring it into our hands. We're all laughing and scolding each other simultaneously. It was actually a delightful way to end our outing. I wish I'd gotten a picture with her. It's hard not to be impressed with her ingenuity. Feeding the birds is better than begging, and certainly a better bargin than the Haagendas earlier.
Eric: Later that night, we met a German named Phillip at the hotel. We were going down to swim when he offered us a cigarette, which we [obviously] declined. But he was alone, and seemed to want to meet fellow travelers, so we stuck up a conversation. His English speaking was pretty good, but oddly, he didn't really understand things we said. For instance, he mentioned that he had previously visited Croatia, but when we asked him "did you like Croatia," he just looked at us with a puzzled expression. Even when we repeated "Croatia," he didn't seem to understand.
Anyway, we ended up inviting him to dinner with us. Well, Carrie did, out of a feeling of obligation to the lonely guy. The conversation was...less than fluid, and there were plenty of awkward pauses where we just gave up trying to ask him anything. The bizarre thing throughout this experience was that he kept wanting to hang out. We told him our bodies were 9 hours behind, and we were tired, and wanted to get to bed early. I'm not sure how much of that he understood because he still wanted to go out for drinks after dinner.
We felt bad for him; he clearly wanted company, even with a few Americans who didn't speak German. After that, we were hot, sweaty, and exhausted. We got back to our hotel a short while ago and showered but, alas, it is election day and alcohol isn't served until midnight hits, so my refreshing beer will have to wait.
