The Photography of Dr. Jeffrey P. Harper

Mueang Trat is about three hundred kilometers due East from Bangkok, just above the northern end of the Gulf of Thailand.  Trat is both the name of the small market town and the Thai Provence.  It is the jumping off point for travelers and tourists bound for the islands of Ko Kut and beautiful Ko Chang (literally, "Elephant Island") and their dive shops and cheap bungalows.  But those places hold no charm for me (been there, done that).

 

ON THE ROAD: BANGKOK-TO-TRAT, VIA THE CHONBURY HIGHWAYA road trip in Thailand is similar to road trips anywhere in the world . . . . it's always weird, but the weirdness varies with a cultural twist.  Here we have an auto accessory shop that figured out what to do with the old floor mats, tires, and air cleaners . . . all 30 meeteres tall of it!

 

We left Bangkok at 6:30am, so by the time we were well down the rural Chonburi road, the light was perfect.  Buzzing along at 140kph I threw on the skids when I saw this magnificent Thai Wat.

 

This particular Wat seemed either brand new or particularly well-maintained.  It was absolutely perfect in every way.

 

What a wonderful Wat with a welcoming Wat rabbit (Say THAT five times fast!)! I assumed the Wat was brand new after all.  The world of spirituality does not get nuttier than this!

 

Once inside the Wat enclosure we discovered the Wat reflected in the polished marble floor. Beautiful design and execution.

 

We got to looking at my GPS to see what "attractions" were not too far off the main road to Trat.  "Buddha Cave 7km" looked inviting, so we swung down a country lane, saw the "Buddha Cave" sign, parked, and looked up to see this monkey sitting on a post: a good sign. Great: an opportunity to test my new Canon 70-200mm f2.8 Series II lens.

 

Hay!  Get OFF my truck!

 

Thanks for posing, cousin.

 

The Buddha Cave was fantastic, its entry guarded by a huge Kwan Yin statue.

 

Taking photographs of a bunch of monkeys running a round in the wild is a lot of fun.  The cooperate sometimes, and sometimes, right when you think you are taking the shot of a lifetime, they taunt you by moving.  Monkeys are fantastically engrossing . . . . in their natural habitat.

 

Inside the cave/grotto were many beautiful Buddha images . . . and no pesky monkeys.

 

A stunning Buddha in the "Banishing Mara" pose.  In addition to the fine Buddha images, there were several mossy cascading stalactites.

 

The Buddha Grotto was not the only attraction at this stop.  Some monks directed us to a path that was suppose to lead us to a series of interconnecting caves at the base of nearby karsts covered in dense jungle foliage. As soon as we stared up the path, a dog joined us and acted as out pathfinder for the rest of the morning.

 

The heat and humidity under the jungle canopy was already oppressive: we were drenched with sweat.

 

The images to look at, and photograph, on a jungle floor are limitless.  We only stopped a few times for a still life or two, like this knotted vine . . . we wanted to get to the coolness of the caves.

 

I could hav stayed all day in that jungle . . . with a maco lens.

 

It was a steep climb up and down the face of the karst.  Periodically steps were provided, but their state of maintenance made their use questionable . . . and dangerous.

 

After a thirty minute walk and climb we arrived at the entrance to Singtoyai Cave, thanks to the good directions of our guide dog.

 

The walk down into the cave was steep with only occasional steps.  The look back, out of the mouth of Singtoyai Cave, was spectacular.

 

Yours Truly in the Singtoyai Caves, Chonburi Province, Thailand.  (Photo by Basil Tahan)

 

The cave was a maze of colorful tunnels and water worn surfaces.

 

You travel with a professional photographer and you stop to take photos.  Thanks Basil for the many camera tips.

 

This type of cave is referred to a karst remnant: it had been eroded out by water at some point, either underground or as a coastal island.

 

It was not one degree cooler in these caves!  In fact, the heat index was much higher, due to the extreme humidity.  we walked around in the dark with only one torch-light most of the time . . . and were glad to see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

 

When we finally got to the exit on the other side of the karst formation, the light coming in from above was tinted and filtered through the green foliage of tall tropical trees!  This is a 1.5 second long-exposure shot at f4.0 and ISO 640 with the Canon L-series 24-105 lens on a Canon 5D Mark II.

 

We came to this "cave exit" and walked out into the bright sunlight.  We turned left and left again . . . walked about 500 meters and came back to this very "cave entrance" . . . we were lost!  We decided to retrace our steps to find our way back to my truck.  When we got there we loaded up and drove the rest of the way to Trat without tking the side trip to Chanthaburi; it was getting late.  We stopped only once . . .

 

Our progress to Trat was temporarly halted when we happened across the topiary wire frame capitol of the world.

 

Basil and I were photographically stymied!  We took hundreds of photos of this amazing sight - a field full of every conceivable animal sculpted in wire, like some kind of surrealistic 3D line drawing in space. None of the photos really captured the feel of the place.

 

TRAT TOWNTrat is one of those Thai towns that you fall in love with immediately.  The old wooden buildings, the slow pace of life, and the lack of treaffic make you feel that is still in the 1930s in Trat.  Spaces itself seems old, as it should.

 

Scrumpteous old wood patina.

 

A thick patina of time and a lack of maintenance hangs on everything.  Wonderful.

 

Trat aboounds with fascinating shadow, color, and texture.

 

Detail from the photo above: telephone wire shadows across the degrading wall.

 

Maybe it was the light, or maybe it was my stae of mind, but the most mundane objects took on a special visual significance in Trat.

 

Oh my!  What a color!

 

Trat is a very "walkable" little town.

 

There is much to stumble upon here: a guest house gate, green in more ways than one.  There is a small community of resident expatriates here in the small back streets.

 

We met the French petit commersent who ran and lived in this little storefront.  He had left the rat race of Europe behind for a slower and quieter life in Trat selling used books and locally produced herbal treatments  Nice.

 

Not having  back yard did not stop the Frenchman from providing his children with gym equipment.

 

We meandered through these old back streets for hours until . . .

 

We stumbled upon the Dimklong Boutique Hotel . . . cheap, clean, tastefully appointed, and with the only real cappuccino and espresso bar in town.  Heaven!  they only had five rooms, but two were vacant.  What a lucky find.  Interestingly, they do not have a web presence!

 

Trat is a living, working old market town.

 

There is so much of interest in Trat . . . a kind of photographers heaven.

 

The weather worn old wooden doors of the shop houses evoked a sense of an earlier time.

 

Not all the shops were closed: I wonder how long this shop has continuously been a tailor?  The old couple inside seem an organic part of their store . . . and the styles displayed in their window seem as old as the city itself.  Interestingly, the next day, our boatman was wearing this very style!

 

Thai people can be very aesthetically creative: a tasteful use of a topiary wire ball and a couple of old shower curtains hung from a tree.

 

The old part of Trat is a maze of small walking streets.

 

Weathered wood everywhere you look.

 

Interesting idea to paint only one vertical panel.

 

After checking into the Dimklong Boutique Hotel, we walked across a little bridge of a klong to a small eatery.  This photo epitomized Trat: lazy, tropical, a perfect place for spending the day in a hammock.

 

After lunch we all napped and then headed out of the hotel toward the center of town for some evening photography.  These roadside eateries serve delicious and clean food.

 

Many beautiful touched on the Trat homes and businesses . . . civic pride everywhere.

 

We walked along Luang Art Soi toward the night market.  These people seem to have perfected the art of displaying impulse items.

 

There is always something interesting around every Trat corner.  I love these old Thai working market towns that are off the tourist trail.

 

We arrived at the Trat night market about the time it was getting dark. Pick up something for dinner on your way home, would you?

 

A Halal sausage hawker posing, Trat night market.

 

Thai people seem to mostly take their meals out of the family home.  We were thinking of doing the same . . . until . . .

 

. . . until we saw the name of the street.  Never buy any food on a street named "Food Safety Street."  Just kidding.

 

It was a hot night, so we all had iced fruit juice.  The orange and carrot was especially delicious.

 

They seemed to be a married couple moonlighting in the market selling steamed dim sum.

 

Properly aged meats bring out the best flavor.

 

We meandered through the deserted streets towards a restaurant the hotel recommended.

 

Waiting for the day's last customer.  Trat beauty parlor.

 

This is why I travel, why I live in different countries: to stay in a perpetual state of wonder and awe at the actuality of the supramundane.

 

By day, an ice depot; by night the home of the ice dray carts and ice draymen.  So touching.

 

One of the species of life on this planet constructs these structures.

 

On advantage of living in the back of your shop is that you can make a late night sale.

 

Dark, quiet and humid: Trat back streets.

 

A few times in your life you happen onto a scene of such beauty as to be moved in a profound way.  Stumbling upon this corrugated house in Trat was such a moment for me.  And I had my camera with me, too!

 

I took a large number of these "Wall Portraits," my favorite subject, when a car careened down the narrow alley and stomped the breaks, narrowly missing me . . . . but it was worth it.

 

The effect of the brake lights on the corrugated wall left me breathless.  Sometimes a great photograph just happens right in front of you and it only requires pushing the button.

 

We left the beauty of the magic corrugated alley behind . . . reluctantly.

 

We made it back at the Dimklong Boutique Hotel quite late and swore to an early departure . . . or by when the hotel espresso bar opened.  I slept like a baby, corrugations dancing in my head . . . .

 

THE TRAT RIVER ESTUARYAfter spending a delightful day and night in Meuang Trat, we headed out of town on Thai Highway 318.  As we left town we noticed a major sea inlet lined with fishing trawlers.  We pulled off at the first small road that went to the estuary.

 

What we found was a very busy little "mom and pop" fishing operation.  There was a large shed with many women repairing and joining the fishing nets.  The women obviously enjoyed each others' company.  My basic Thai language allowed me to hear that the net menders were kidding each other about the falang men present . . . . they were giggling quite a bit.  We looked around the docks to see if we could hire a boat and boatman to take us out on the water to photograph the big colorful Thai trawlers.

 

We asked around and were directed to this old man and his too small boat.

 

Our Boatman was a sweet and very photogenic old guy.

 

While our boatman affixed a couple of planks and a big wooden bench on his little boat, Basil and I meandered around the docks looking for something to photograph.  We were not disappointed . . .

 

Nautical anchor, net, and rope.

 

We set out on the Trat River estuary under a darkening sky as a trawler chugged out to sea.  We hugged the bank, afraid of the bow wake.

 

The Trat River estuary reminds me so much of my experiences on The Congo River: fishermen the world over arrive at similar solutions to getting fish out of the water and onto their tables or to market.  These fish traps, stacked and ready to deploy, are identical to what I saw in The Congo!

 

The fish traps are affixed at the junction of two fish fences.  The current, or tide, sweeps the fish into the fish trap.  Very simple.  There is a one-way trap door to keep the fish from getting out.

 

We didn't see anyone tending the fish traps; perhaps the tide or currents were not right.

 

In some places along the river the Mangrove swamps had yet to be filled for commercial purposes.

 

The Trat River estuary is dotted with trawler operations, large and small.

 

I am always  fascinated with these river shacks, and fancy myself living in one some day. Well, maybe not THIS one.

 

This is more like it: perfect Tom Sawyer living.

 

Our little rented boat stayed close to shore and we got a good look at the life along the river.  A scuttled trawler from a bygone time.

 

There were hundreds of these Gulf of Thailand wooden trawlers.

 

Most of the trawlers were in port on a "turn around" and were very busy places.

 

Being in port is a good time for the deck hands to make repairs.

 

It seemed that many of the trawlers were occupied with the crew who may not have had anywhere else to call home.

 

We must have been quite a site to the fishermen as we putted by in our overloaded little boat with the giant bench sitting on top.

 

These are big commercial fishing operations, despite the dilapidated warehouses on shore.

 

There is a lot of maintenance to be done on these old wooden boats.

 

There were fantastic scenes all along the shores of the Trat River estuary.

 

Only a small part of the Trat trawler fleet.  Many of the companies color coordinate their trawlers.

 

The trawlers are beautifully painted.

 

You could only see these magnificent wooden boats from the river side . . . in a small boat.  Fun.

 

                                                                                                                                                       WikiMap

Songkran is the actual Thai Buddhist calendar New Year holiday . . . and the third New Year celebrated each year in this wonderful country (the others are January 1 and the Chinese New Year). I had a ten day holiday from work (in Bangkok) . . . so I hit the road.  The first four days in Hua Hin, and the next five days on a road trip through Trat Province to Khlong Yai District and then on to the Cambodian boarder (Hat Lek) at the furthest Southeast point in Thailand.  I will be putting up all my best photos from this trip over the next few weeks, as time allows, so keep checking back.   Photos from the Hua Hin part of my holiday follow this blog entry here.

 

Trat and Khlong Yai Provinces boarder the Gulf of Thailand, so there is no shortage of tropical vistas.

 

The topicality was ubiquitous . . . as these back lit palm trees against a blue sky testify.

 

EXPLORING the MAIROOD FISHING VILLAGEThe main attraction of the Khlong Yai coast are the many small fishing villages built on pilings in the estuarial mangrove inlets.  The good thing about having your own vehicle is taking the small seaside roads so you can check out any "local attractions."  This is Mairood Fishing Village.  We stayed here for two days and two nights.  it was a photogaphers paradice . . . . completely unspoiled by mass tourism . . . and beautiful colors.

 

Thai fishermen paint their photogenic boats amazing colors.

 

The fishing villagers were very friendly.  This fisherman called out to us to join him for an evening's trawl!

 

All the villages had an array of boats in all sizes and configurations.  it was a photographer's heaven . . . and hell: how to choose between so many fascinating images?  We stayed at the fantastic, and rustic, Mairood Resort which you had to walk through hte village to get to!

 

The wooden houses of the fishing villages were connected by old wooden boardwalks above the muddy mangrove bays.

 

Although I am sure the occupants would want "better," the colors and textures of this house are something fantastic. I might be interested in trading homes.

 

With all the un-air-conditioned houses packed so closely together, everyone must get along.  Three generations enjoy a mid-day meal in 40+ heat.

 

There are bits and pieces of adornment here and there throughout the village.

 

An old fisherman swelters in the heat, kiddie fan in hand.

 

 A fisherman's shack, Mairood, Thailand.

 

This jaundiced old bachelor fisherman kept a messy shack.

 

Rusty corrugated "tin" roofing has become the icon for degradation. Why?  It is so beautiful.

 

Most of the fishermen and their families keep a tidy, clean, and spare house.  They all live on the floor; there was hardly a chair in the village.

 

Life within the village.

 

Incredible line, pattern, and shadow.

A benefit of building your home over the estuary is the convenience of casting your nets from your front porch.

 

The irony of this photo was not lost on this old fisherman.

 

Apparently the fisherman (above) had not tended his spirit house properly.  It is interesting that his spirit house was made of the same materials as his home.

 

Most houses had a spirit house . . . often in a better state of repair than the main house.

 

No matter where I have been in my life, there has always been a house made into art.

 

Most residents of these fishing villages spend the hot part of the day sitting in their open-fronted houses looking out over their dock and boat.

 

The dock poarchs are the workplaces of the fishermen.

 

The docks are used for a variety of purposes.  Here shrimp are drying.

 

Some docks are very busy places in preparation for the coming night's fishing foray.

 

Very clever: shells used as net weights.

 

Neatly stacked stuffed shell net weights.

 

There is a system of colored flags to identify each owners' nets when deployed at sea.

 

Bright net flags.

 

A wide variety of colored flags are used, making the fishing village a very colorful place indeed.

 

The bows of the fishing boats are festooned with colorful flower bouquets, gossamer bunting, and garlands for good luck.

 

There was no hiding the colorful boats!

 

The Everyday here seemed bright and profound: the Supra Mundane of the Buddhists.

 

Although remote and undeveloped, the villagers are not cut off from the modern world: I saw many iPhones here . . .  and notice the satellite dishes atop the shacks.

 

There were many elderly people in the village.

 

I thuroughly enjoyed photograaphing the corregated art of Mairood Village.

 

The area around the village, and the Mairood Resort, was sandy Mangrove marsh and beaches.

 

Mangrove plants are very strange . . . they throw up shoots in the lagoons . . . and knees in the swamps.

 

The villagers abandon worn out boats in the lagoon . . . but not forever, it seems.  Many of the houses seem to be build of disassembled fishing boats.

 

Out on the beach this man came up to us eager to share his amazement, and good luck, about the bee hive rich in honey he had just robbed across the lagoon.

 

While the open fronts of the houses face the estuary and docks, the backs of their homes are in the mangrove swamp.

 

The mangrove swamp is full of interesting, and photogenic, things.

 

It would be wonderful to be a child in this environment . . . the opportunities to  fantasy play in the mangroves is limitless.  It reminded me of the several years I lived, and played, in the Sabine River swamps of Louisiana in my own childhood (1958-1960).

 

I found these girls among the mangroves . . . on some kind of a lark.

 

My cabin at the Mairood Resort was as comfortable as it was beautiful . . . and a stone's throw from the mangrove swamp, beach, and fishing village.  Perfect!

 

This photography stuff is difficult . . . and hot!  Poor me . . . . I had to spend the afternoon at the Mairood Resort pool.

 

The grounds and gardens of the Mairood Resort are beautiffly landscaped.

 

EARLY MORNING MAIROOD, THAILANDWe woke very early one morning to go out on the docks to see the Buddhist monks on their morning alms rounds.  It was quiet, calm, and clear as the village awoke.

 

A few people were up and starting their day . . . . but no monks.

 

The fishing boats sat  still in their morning moorings.

 

The village was still asleep.

 

We walked to the bridge where we would walk the road to the nearby Buddhist temple.  There was one dockside shop open selling vegetables and fruit.

 

A part of Mairood is firmly planted on the ground. 

 

As we walked toward the Wat, the morning light started to pour in.

 

An eager shopkeeper opening early (6:00am) on what promised to be a fiercely hot day.

 

The local hardware store opened early too.

The walk to Wat turned out to be three kilometers.  The scenery was breathtaking; the light perfect.

 

We saw a great variety of spirit houses along the way.  Some home made . . .

 

. . . and some store bought.

 

But all the spirit houses were serving their purposes well: to house the spirits in nature that were displaced when the humans came and cleared land and built houses.

 

Many people were out in the "cool" morning air (it was 28c at 6:00am!) tending small garden plots.

 

As we walked along the country road taking photographs, these monks caught and passed us on their way back to the Wat.

 

We followed this young monk to his Wat.

 

 

The monks, young and old, arrived back at the Wat with the morning's alms.  Th Abbot told us they will eat only once a day.  Monks continued to arrive in small and large groups.

 

It was a very spiritual morning.

 

The Wat bell . . . used to call the monks to meditation and study.

 

A peaceful and tranquil place.  The rural Wats are more serene than the noisy and dog-infested Bangkok counterparts.

 

Yep, all roads lead here . . . that's a certainty.  The Wat crematorium stained with the soot of those once alive.

 

We arrived at the fantastic Mairood Wat and were greeted by very friendly monk who showed us around and explained its history and pointed out some of the building projects going on which he was in charge of.

 

Sorry.  I took about twenty perfect photos of this Wat and could not decide which to post . .  so here is another.  Incredible beauty.

 

Self portrait at the Mairood Wat.

 

It was the perfect morning to wear your new dress while riding your new bicycle before it got too hot.

 

We walked back to Mairood village in time to see some boats coming back in from the over night  fishing.

 

The colors of the village, fishermen, and boats were vivid.

 

This was the fish of the day being offloaded.

 

What's for lunch?  Not seafood AGAIN! The poor children.

 

The simple beauty and charm of home made spirit houses, recently tended, was touching.

 

Mothers and children awaited the return of the fishermen with news of the catch . . . and their safety.

 

A Mairood Sunset

 

As we walked around the  village we noticed the sun was getting low.  Villagers were beginning to prepare the evening meal:  seafood, what else!

 

 As the sun began to set, and he heat and humidity began to subside, the village children came out to play.

 

Sometimes it seemed like the children were posing . . . it was such a perfectly beautiful evening.

 

Magic light . . .

 

During and after the Killing Fields of Pol Pot, this part of Thailand was a haven for Cambodian refugees.  many of the residents of the Mairood Village are of Cambodian nationality, like this little girl.

 

A boy lost in play among the thick hyacinth tangle at sunset.

 

This girl and her dog were inseparable.

 

And, my oh my, what a sunset it was!

 

For the boys it was time to climb up onto a squid boat . . . .

 

. . . . and play pirates in the squid rigging.

 We were at the estuary outlet one sunset.

 

Children were out playing in the fading light.

 

This boy was very sad: he had just learned that his family as going to move to "the city" from Mairood village.

 

There is so much to do and to explore in a young world.

 

Young Sisyphus.

 

Sunset Boyplay.  When and where indelible memories are made.

 

With the last of the light fading, more and more boats left Mairood port for a night's fishing n the Gulf of Saim.

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.

One of the really cool things you can do in Bangkok is to have an old car restored -- cheaply.  If you happen to have an "overseas contract" with a corporation or embassy you may also have the benefit of shipping your car over to Thailand, and shipping it back at the end of the contract.

 

If the car you ship to Thailand happens to be a rusty old classic 1965 Mustang convertible, and the car you ship back is the same car but fully restored, so much the better.

 

I really like my friend's Mustang restoration.  He used the straight six cylinder engine and four-speed manual transmission, but with a racing cylinder head and Paxton supercharger.  Very nice.

 

A big valve, large port, aluminum racing head with a matching camshaft for the supercharger.  The supercharger and 4-bbl fuel injector throttle body were removed for shipping -- a one-barrel carburetor was rigged to get the Mustang in and out of it's container. What you can't see are the hand-fabricated stainless steel headers and duel exhausts.  Nice work.

 

The interior is all new as well.  Various patch panels were butt-welded in here and there.  Very good work.

 

New chrome bumpers and trim items, along with a new vinyl convertible top finish the rebuild.