The Photography of Dr. Jeffrey P. Harper

THE THAI-CAMBODIAN BOARDER TOWN OF HAT LEKKhlong Yai District is a narrow strip of land along the northeast shore of the Gulf of Thailand.  It is a rarely visited region of Thailand and mainly serves as a route to the Cambodian Boarder at the small town of Hat Lek.  Khlong Yai and Hat Lek are fishing ports for the Thai fleet of shrimpers, squiders, and general market fishing.

Hat Lek is a boarder post between Thailand and Cambodia.  It is a bustling little place where tradesmen scurry abut with carts full of produce bound for the Cambodian side.  We did not pay the fee for a Cambodian Visa, so only saw the Hat Yai, on Thai side.

Beautiful, and busy, downtown Hat Lek, Thailand.

Hat Yai was crawling with Durians.  Apparently it is a good time to send Durians from Thailand to Cambodia.  We got there early, around 7:30, but we were already too late for the morning market, which seemed to be already closing up.  I find these dray carts ("a strong low cart or carriage used for heavy burdens.") fascinating

There were still many dray carts heaped with Durians when we got there . . . and plenty of buyers.  Personally, I LOVE Durians and consider them the very best fruit on Earth.  They are known as The King of Fruits by those, like me, who crave them.  However, about half of our planet's population consider Durians the most disgusting and sickening fruit in this quadrant of the universe.  The human being is completely split about liking or hating Durians!

Durians, Durians, and more Durians.  Yum, Yum, and more Yum!

The cart porters were obviously NOT paid by the cart . .  but by the piece!

There were all kinds of dray carts toting all kinds of goods both ways across the boarder with Cambodia.  You can see the Durian traders in the background.

Packed, loaded, and headig for the Cambodian boarder.

If you have spent any time in my photo blog, you know I have more than a passing interest in push carts, dray carts, and street peddlers carts.  These carts are obviously purpose-built for this situation: transporting goods to and from Cambodia.  The porters were also fantastically photogenic!

Many of the dray-men were pushing the heavy loads were women, er, dray-women!  As is often the case in Thailand (and around Southeast Asia), women who work in the sun take every measure to keep from getting dark skin.  Dark skin is a sign that one is a manual laborer and not a "refined lady or a "HiSo lady."

A happy dray man.

Hat Lek must be the Durian capitol of the world! 

I would love one day to fill a gallery with these cart portraits . . . with one room dedicated only to Durian dray carts.  The Durian seems to me to be the best eidence that extra-terrestrials have visited our home planet.  The visiting aliens siply dropped the seeds of these amazingly yummy fruits after eating the box lunches their spouses packed home for the trip.

The women porters' hats and masks made them very mysterious indeed.

It got rapidly hotter as the morning grew shorter.  The merchants withdrew to the shade and under parisols.

I ran into the Porter in Blue later in the morning sitting with her young child in the shade.  She consented to be photographed.

One particular Durian porter caught out eye, not least for her bloodied hands from handling Durians without the thick leather gloves used by the other porters, but because she was so very beautiful.  Movie star beautiful!

The dray women of Hat Lek, Thailand.

Hat Lek is on the Gulf of Thailand, so after exploring the boarder trade in Durians we explored the little town . . . only to discover a Buddhist Thanksgiving ceremony dedicated to the sea presided over by seven chanting monks.

The villagers were tending hand made sand chedis along the beach.

It was an idyllic setting, on a perfect day.  I gave thanks as well for the bounty of the sea.

A perfect morning to commune with The Buddha and with nature.

Hat Lek also had a small fishing port.  We stood in amazement as the fishermen unloaded their boats by throwing pink baskets full of fish up to the waiting buyers on the stone jetty.

Although it was only 8:30am, it was very hot already.  The boatmen worked very hard.

Like everything we encountered on the Khlong Yai coast, the colors were vivid and bright.  Each fish buyer brought with him his own color-coded plastic boxes and baskets.

As we were watching the fishing boats being unloaded, a boy and his father slowly glided into Hat Lek port.

KHLONG YAI DISTRICT COMMERCIAL FISHING PORTAbout 20 kilometers south of Khlong Yai we passed this interesting roadside sign . . . and were immediately thrown into a perception of ourselves on a map as seen from above . . . a fun awareness shift!

One of several commercial fishing ports along Thai Highway 318.

Between Hat Lek and the fishing port of Khlong Yai, there are several commercial fishing docks.  We stopped at one and spent some time photographing the colorful scene.

The port was a busy place: loading ice onto ships after they have been emptied and readied for a quick turn-around, and back out to sea.

It was over 100f (39c) on this day.  Loading ice into the ship's hold must have been refreshing.

The ice workers had the best job, that's for sure.

Oh to be an Iceman's helper on a day like this!  Easy money!

Some of the 'catch of the day.'

This picture takin' thing ain't all that hard!  It's as easy as shootin' fish in a barrel . . .  literally!

The docks were full of wonderful images, like this corroded old anchor . . .

. . . . and the light bulbs use to attract squid to the boats at night.

The dock and fisheries workers did not mind being photographed.

Taking a smoke break among the fish crates.

KHLONG YAI TOWN AND PORT

We drove North on Thai Highway 318 back to the town of Khlong Yai.  We arrived in the late afternoon and headed immediately for the port . . . and the magic light that precedes the sunset.

Khlong Yai is a bustling little authentic Thai port town that the tourists have ignored.

We were greeted with more colorful and fascinating, and supremely photogenic, Thai fishing village scenes.  I never get tired of these scenes . . . and took thousands of photos. 

The sunlight, and the water, flattened as the afternoon wore on.  I was happy to walk along the docks taking photos.  I was in a perpetual "Oh WOW!" state of wonder. "Basil, look at THIS!  Basil, look at THAT!"

The people of Khlong Yai were very friendly and open.

Old, weathered wooden warehouses and brightly painted boats reflected in the inlet.  Photographers' Heaven.

So many interesting textures and patterns . . . and evocative images.

Basil, an excellent photographer and teacher, gave me many tips on composition and how to get more out of my camera and lenses.  Thanks Basil.

Wash day on the docks.

We walked further out on the quay and noticed the buildings on the other side were dilapidated, unoccupied, and in many cases heavily damaged.  Perhaps there had been a big storm or tsunami . . . or somebody is behind on their mortgage.

The abandoned green room (above) cast an amazingly abstract reflection on the water.  A little color enhancement and brightening in post-production makes for a very beautiful abstract photo.

There was no shortage of photo opportunities of my favorite subject; the  textures of dilapidation.  I think of it as "Old Space."

At some point the houses along the pier were no longer grounded on terra firma.  The mudskippers were up and about in the afternoon light making trails in the mud under the houses.  Mudskippers are fish that have adapted legs and gills for living outside the water . . . . just like the first animals that came out of the sea billions of years ago.  My advice:  Go back!

The sun was beginning to set, which meant it was getting near dinner time.  I found this scene amusing; Mom had obviously sent the son out under the house to catch an ingredient needed for tonight's meal . . . no doubt sum tam with small crabs.

The fading sun cast an eerie glow on the buildings.

The sunset lit up an approaching storm approaching from over Cambodia.

We reached the end of the pier, quite far out into the Gulf of Thailand.  Across the inlet was another pier.  What a scene!

The sunset did not disappoint. "That cloud look like a horse!"

Golden sunset light on an old building.

We walked out back along the same pier, completely engrossed in the light.

 The port was beautiful in the dying light.

We walked back into the little town looking for something to eat.  We stopped in a small shop for water and asked where a good, air-conditioned restaurant might be found . . .  and were told that there wasn't one in the entire town.  Gotta love that!

We spent the night in the only hotel in town - the Khlong Yai City Hotel (not mentioned on the Internet - how is that possible?).  They seemed completely unprepared for the arrival of guests!  Although the air-conditining did work, I would not necessarily recommend this hotel . . .  but if you need a roof over your head after a hot and wonderful day, it will do.  We woke early and drove north to another fishing village, Mairood.

My friend and photography teacher, Basil, and his wife left Bangkok at 5:15am to reach the salt pans of Samut Songkhram at sunrise to take photos under the magical light of morning. We arrived at 6:30am to a driving tropical thunder and lightning storm. We bided our time taking photos of whatever was lit enough to shoot, like this frangipani flower . . .

. . . or this wet red morning flower.

The rain finally gave way to moody morning light reflected in the salt pans.  Beautiful.

As the sunrise broke through the clouds a light shade of peach started to permeate the landscape.  We got in my truck and raced down the road to see if there might be some salt harvesting between the storms.

Indeed!  There was to be salt harvesting to be done . . . . interrupted by the rain.

We were in luck: there were cones of salt ready for porterage sitting in the light rain under the peachy morning light.

The light did not last long . . . but my-oh-my!

As we walked around the sunrise salt pan we noticed a dilapidated bamboo salt shed and went in for a look.

A soft, light rain fell on us as we stood transfixed within the beautiful mood invoked by the patterns and the light.

Why is dilapidation, a returning back to elemental substances, so beautiful?

 Extraordinary textures.

The dampness of the morning rain and the soft light made the colors jump into your eye wherever you looked.

Basil was in Photographers' Heaven!

Cones of salt dissolving in the rain.

There had been terrible erosion of the salt cones in the rain.  We spoke to one of the pan workers who said that 50% of the harvest had been lost because of the early rains.  This is suppose to be the hot and dry season, not the rainy season.

We came back later in the morning and watched the salt laborers carry the salt out of the pans.

Scooping heavy wet salt is hard labor.

This crew worked very fast; perhaps they feared a resumption of the erosive rain.

The salt pan laborers ranged from the very old . . .

. . . to teenagers . . .

. . . all in a rush to stack (and cover) the newly harvested salt.

It didn't take long for this crew to empty the pan of its salt stacks.

We drove around on the small roads between the saalt pans and came upon a salt barge being unloded.

Hard physical labor in the stiffling heat and humidity.

A timeless scene under a cloudy sky.

We drove around on the farm roads between the salt pans and found an old Wat that was in the middle of a big building project . . . and I do mean BIG.

The building project involved putting the oldest wooden Wat on wheels and moving it to a new location.

The mundane and the spiritual exist side-by-side in the Wat.

Bangkok is a great city in which to live in its own right, but literally an hour from the great city are many marvels of rural life.

The old wooden Wat seemed very fragile; I did not go up the ladder to take a look, but Basil did.

Where the monks live.

The accidental aesthetics of the Wat is always surprising.

Although it is a place where the residents do not tend to the physical world, they make a beautiful place . . . perhaps because of it.

I love the textures of old spaces.

The deities that had been housed in the old wooden Wat had been removed, awaiting their placement in the new Wat under construction nearby.

Vestiges of earlier historical influences could be seen in much of the statuary, which were from the Hindu pantheon.

At the back of the Wat, in a stand of pine trees, there appeared a collection of very, very old Buddha statues.

The Buddhas were covered in a deep layer of pine needles. They looked as if they were emerging from beneath the ground.

Some of these Buddhas looked ancient.

Other Buddhas still showed remnants of their original coloration and adornment.

I could not tell if this collection of Buddhas were abandoned to this part of the Wat, were placed here in temporary storage awaiting the completion of the new Wat structure, or were intended to keep watch over the forest and the chedis that held the ashes of former monks and abbots interned nearby.

The forest chedis watched over by the ancient Buddha images.

The old chedis still revealed their carved Buddha embellishments.

Nearby, next to a stand of bamboo stood a large collection of spirit houses.

The tropical pole pine needles coated the spirit houses as well.

The pine needles, the stand of wispy trees and the golden spirit houses created a strange mood in the misty morning light.

Some spirit houses can be quite whimsical with their family of "inhabitants."

In the middle of the grove of spirit houses were the remnants of a blessing ceremony on a white table covered with pine needles.

The untended spaces of the Thai Wats allow for a stunning beauty to occur.

The monks at this Wat had a marvelous aesthetic sensibility . . . 

. . . and a wacky architectural sense of humor! YOU tell me what's going on here!

We had had a wonderful day of discovery and wonder . . . and photography.  As we drove home we noticed another crew of salt pan laborers clearing a pan in the distance, so, of course, we drove up a muddy road to take a look . . . .

. . . and more photos of this visually interesting process.

This second crew also worked at breakneck speed, and had the pan nearly cleared during the time we watched them.

It was a memorable day.

I woke up at 5:00am this morning to go down to the Central World Mall where an annual gathering of 20,600 monks meditate and pray. An amazing sight.

That's a lot of monks right there in the middle of the street.

Monk patterns.

Old monks, young monks . . . all kinds of monks.

A few sleepy monks among the gathered throng(?) . . . what is the unit term for a gathering of monks? Covey? Tribe?  Gaggle?

I took a million photos of the monks . . . I was totally engrossed with the visual imagery and the spiritual power of the occasion.

It was fantastic to see the part of the city where I go all the time with my wife suddenly be completely full of Buddhist monks.

The Abbots from the many Wats (Buddhist temples) filled the front rows.

An advertisement for what one might do with one's consciousness while "out of the blue and into the black."

One can overlay many layers of meaning onto this gathering of monks. The story I like is that this is a drawing of the spiritual battle lines between a personal and private project to obtain a clear and unattached consciousness versus the crazy desire to have ever more material objects as a symbol of the delusion of meaningfulness.

I cannot imagine a better part of town to throw down a karmic antidote.

Not everyone is driven by obsessive material attachment: there were many, many pilgrims present to give alms.

The devotees left many donations to defray the cost of today's big ceremony. 

The 20,600 monks faced the 100,00+ devotees, here to give alms.

The occasion is not just a gathering of monks, it is also an opportunity to give the traditional morning alms to the monks, but this time in mass.

Families had come very early in the morning to find a place in the alms lines.

Monks walking among the gathered followers . . . a beautiful sight.

After the morning chant, the monks proceed down the stripped walk to receive alms from the gathered devotees.

The monks eventually take their place in front of a family who offers food, candles, and incense.

The monks marched down one side to the end, then cam back to other side . . . in a fantastic movement of crisscrossing orange among white.

Serious, austere monks among the alms givers.

The monks walked under the pedestrian bridge I was on and then down the street where thousands more alms givers waited.

The city center had been made over in white, red and orange.  Great spirit.

There were monks everywhere in the side streets and in front of the buildings that surrounded the main ceremony.

It was a photographers dream . . . . I could not resist these reflected monks!

Reflected monks were  Everywhere!

An old monk taking care of business in the red chairs.

When the last alms had been given, the gathered crowd participated in picking up the cloths and ceremonial accouterments.

Everyone pitched in to clear the streets.

While the road was being cleared, monks and pilgrims mingled on the street.

This kind old monk gave me an Buddhist amulet.

The alms were bagged and trucked to various Buddhist temples, there was more than each monk could carry.

I met several big time professional photographers while taking photos on the pedestrian bridge; this is Tony B from New York City.  The event attracted photographers from all over the world.

Borobudur Temple Complex is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  As such it is visited by many tourists, 99% Indonesian, every day.

Boroburdu Temple is one of the great archeological wonders of the world.  Built in the 8th century, it was abandoned not long after it was completed, covered with a heavy ash fall from a nearby volcano, and covered with thick jungle vegetation until it was discovered in 1901.  It is te Pompeii of the Buddhist world.

A panel from the Borobudur Temple in Central Java, Indonesia . . . one of the wonders of the ancient world.  I will post more of these amazing panels depicting the life and lessons of The Buddha soon.

 In addition to chronicling the Life of the Buddha, the panels that completely cover the temple also depict the lives of the elite, royal class.

The workmanship and artistry are of the highest order.

The views from the steps of Borobudur over the tropical landscape of Central Java was breathtaking.

The name "Lost Temple of Borobudur" certainly fits: it lay hidden beneath ash and jungle for 1300 years before it's rediscovery in 1901. 

We saw what must have been the most beautiful sunset of our lives on the way back to the Phoenix Hotel in Jogja.

I went out and about on a Saturday with my friend John Stiles.  We saw many wonderful things and listened to some fantastic music.

The Bangkok "Chinatown" is a very messy, noisy, busy place with a huge amount of human activity, mostly to do with commerce.

I really do not get down to this part of the city enough.  Even though about 30% of Bangkok is underwater, life goes on in the rest of the city without adult supervision, as we expats like to call it.

Busy, busy businessmen.  Here we see a shop dedicated to selling fake rice sacks; "Value Added" takes on a whole new meaning.

Chinatown, along the river, is the oldest part of Bangkok.  The buildings exude a worn and aged charm.

When I first moved to Bangkok I had the fantasy of living in one of these kinds of neighborhoods. What, exactly, is the beauty here?

I spotted a sign on the main street saying there was a temple down the alley.

We found a very old, and beautifully kept, Chinese Buddhist Temple wedged among the tiny passageways of old Chinatown, Bangkok.

The courtyard of the Chinese Temple was festooned with yellow lanterns.

I poked around a side and found the leprous temple keeper and asked if I could go in and pray.  He nodded yes. The space was magnificently decorated.

The new temple banners showed the signs of recent ceremonies conducted in honor large donors.

There were many small vestibule-like altar rooms around the temple . . . .

. . . that were exquisitely decorated with the phantasmagoria of the Chinese Buddhist pantheon.

Many famalies lodge their hopes, prayers, and wishes here.

Each altar had become a new construction of a unique spirit world.

Every detail tells a story from ancient Chinese spiritual literature, like these incense holders with peacock fronds.

The Buddhist Temples in Thailand are not archeological curiosities, but living places of spiritual refreshment. I love the celebratory use of twinkling holiday lights.

I made a large donation before we left and received a special honorary receipt from the kind temple keeper.

As it grew darker we descended into the deep back alleys of the Bangkok Chinatown.

A yellow inflatable boat in a dark alley was one of many clues that nearly thirty percent of Bangkok was under water from massive flooding . . . but not this part.

By nightfall we found our way back to the commercial streets.

The mix of mercury vapor and neon lighting played nicely upon the telephone lines across this old Chinatown storefront.

Every once in a while a photo just creates itself right in front of you.

Damn Tourists.  Not really.  Peter, an out-of-towner visiting my friend John, trying to figure out if it is better to take the Skytrain or taxi to get to Victory Monument Circle from Chinatown.  We took the taxi.

Victory Monument Circle on a Saturday night.  It seemed almost deserted, no doubt, because of the floods.

Down this small side street off of Victory Monument Circle you can find the best blues, funk, and reggae in Bangkok.

The Saxophone Jazz and Blues Club.  I am always happy to be there.  There were two bands on that night.

The House Band fronted by a very talented blues guitarist.

His BB King covers were noteworthy.

But the highlight of the evening  was a funk/reggae band I had never heard.  They came on at midnight and played until 3:00am! The completely rocked the joint . . . got everybody up out of their seats and dancing!  Definitely one of the best live bands I have heard in many, many years.  I will go back to see them again . . . and soon.

Only 4 foot 9 inches, but the most powerful and controlled singer in this quadrant of the universe.  Every band member was very, very talented.  Amazing!

Here are a few more images from that wonderful day . . . . saved as a slide show (which I am still figuring out).