the chedi at Wat Ratburana

In the morning on my second day in Ayuthaya, I rented a bicycle from the Baan Lotus Guesthouse (time for a little exercise) and struck out to tour the city.  The bicycle felt flimsy underneath me after having driven motorbikes the past three months.  

Because of the heat, my plan was to visit a couple of temple ruins in the morning, return to the guesthouse around lunchtime for a cold refreshing shower and a nap, spend the afternoon writing and then go temple hopping again around sunset.  But plans are made to be changed and that’s exactly what I did.   

The day was gorgeous. The skies were bright blue, the first I’d seen of those in a while, I guess because of the rainy season being so drawn out.  I had read about a temple, Wat Phra Mahathat, where a statue of Buddha had been enveloped over time by the roots of a tree such that the tree appeared to be cradling Buddha’s head.  That temple was closest to Baan Lotus so I headed for that one first.  On my way, I got distracted by some fabulous looking ruins at another temple and ended up spending an hour at Wat Ratburana, a temple not even in my list of “wats to see.”  

Wat Ratburana was built in the 15th century by a king on the cremation site of his two elder brothers who died fighting each other for rights to assume the throne.  I found the architecture fascinating, the colorful history was icing on the proverbial cake.  The initial thing that caught my eye was a tall, corncob shaped tower made of multicolored bricks.  I later learned that the tower is called a prang and is a style used by the Khmer throughout Cambodia.  I saw the prang through the door of a crumbling wall … inviting my curiosity to peek behind the door and find other forgotten treasures.  

cubist Buddha

Through the door and behind the wall, I found blocks of stone that formed very abstract bodies reminiscent of Picassos cubist people.  At first, I mistook the block people for armies.  Upon reflection, I think perhaps they were intended to be Buddhas.

Next on the list was Wat Phra Mahathat.  I had read that Thais view the intermingling of sacred images with nature to be very auspicious, making this particular temple very popular with merit makers.  This particular Sunday was no exception. It seemed that every Thai in Bangkok had made a day trip to Ayuthaya just to see Buddha embraced by a tree.   Five large tour buses were parked in the temple’s lot and two more were pulling in when I arrived. From a distance, I could see at least thirty people thronging around what I figured had to be the infamous Buddha statue.  I turned my bike around and headed out, deciding I would visit the temple later rather than compete with the merit makers for views of the Buddha.

that's got to make for one slobbery head

On my way to the third temple on my list, I came across an elephant show.  I was so glad I was not traveling in an organized tour and had the freedom to stop and watch.  Changing plans on a moment’s notice appeals to some side of me that must have ADHD.  So I stopped and watched the elephant circus and then walked across the street and grabbed some lunch at the local market.  

So many books on travel health warn travelers not to eat from street stalls.  Clearly those authors have never been to Thailand. Food stalls in the street are a way of life for the locals here.  Not only is the food delicious, it’s incredibly cheap.  For some reason, most Thai people do not have kitchens in their homes so they eat every meal out.  The street stalls, which usually conglomerate together to form a sort of outdoor food court, seem to be the preferred dining destinations for many Thais.  Generally the food is fresh and cooked right in front of you.  In 6 weeks of eating this way, I’ve only had a couple of incidents of upset tummy and I get those at home on occasion as well so I figure … mai pen rai. 

This day, I met a sweet couple who were making rotis and matabas.  Rotis are a fried dough-based dessert that can be served plain (which means with chocolate sauce and sweetened condensed milk), stuffed with egg or stuffed with banana (in either case, you still get chocolate sauce and sweetened condensed milk). Matabas start with the same crepe-like base and are filled with meat, veggies or a combination.  Anyway you serve them, they are delicious.  The couple was very amused when I told them so in Thai.  I guess Thais aren’t accumstomed to foreigners (farang) speaking any Thai because when I say the smallest thing (delicious, how are you, nice to meet you), they giggle, give me the thumbs up and tell me I speak Thai very well.  We both end up amused at the other so it’s good entertainment all around.

the roti maker

After my mataba/roti lunch, I visited Wat Chaiwatthanarum, the temple that made me salivate for sunset shots the previous day but which was off limits from the river side because of the high water.  I rode my rickety bike across the island and over the bridge to the other side of the river to get there.  I noticed on my way there how much the temperature had risen.  The sun which had turned the skies blue was beating down on my shoulders.  Just this wat, I promised myself.  Then you can go home and cool off until sunset. (Traveling alone as I do, it’s a common occurrence that I find myself talking to myself. Mai pen rai.) 

I could tell this was a popular wat for tourists to visit, not because of the tour buses which were thankfully absent, but because of the number of souvenir stalls.  When I mention tourists, I should clarify that I primarily mean Thai tourists.  There are a decent number of farang that make it to Ayuthaya and of course they hit the major tourist spots, but the Thai tourists outnumber the farang visitors by far.

Wat Chaiwattanarum

Although Wat C was not exactly swarming with tourists of any flavor, there were enough that for almost every photograph I wanted to take, I had to wait about five minutes for the various tourists to get out of the way. Definitely an exercise in patience. But it was worth it.  Of all the temples I visited that day and the previous, Wat C definitely tops my list.  In the previous temples, it had appeared merely that the Buddha statues that were dismembered may have become so in the fires that I understand burned through all wats.  In Wat C, it became quite clear that the dismemberment was not accidental or the result of fire.  These statues had all been deliberately decapitated.  Only about five of the hundred plus Buddhas retained their heads.  Strangely, even without their heads, (and perhaps even BECAUSE they were without heads) these statues compelled my attention. They felt alive as if they were not made out of stone.  I can’t explain the feeling I had, but if the Burmese intended to kill the spirit of Buddha when they beheaded the statues, they failed miserably.  

I spent over an hour wandering among the ruins.  I was mesmerized by the statues and photographed them over and over, coming close to filling my 8GB memory card (that’s about 500 photos for you non-shutter-geeks).  But the heat finally got to me and it was time to go.  

Wat C headless Buddhas

As I rode my bike back toward Baan Lotus, I passed a store that had hundreds of brightly colored rooster statues outside ranging from 5 inches to twenty feet tall.  I chuckled to myself and tried to recall some funny story I had read at some point about a Thai king redeeming his reputation by winning a cock fight, but it was too hot for my brain to work.  I supposed though that the story was behind all the rooster souvenirs although I couldn’t imagine someone being a big enough fan of that king or that story to want a one story rooster sitting in their front yard.  I was too hot to think, but not to photograph so I snapped a couple shots of the giant chickens.  

I was about to hop back on my bike when I noticed that the shop next door to the rooster store sold religious supplies (starter kits for monks-in-training as well as various statues for people to put around their homes and in their spirit houses).  I had seen some small plastic characters from the Ramayana narrative at some temples and spirit houses and was on the lookout to buy some to incorporate in my artwork.  I was already stopped so … why not?  

one of many headless Buddhas at Wat C

Before I could just browse for myself, the woman running the store stepped in my path, smiling, and tried to be helpful.  I’ve found of course that very few Thais speak English unless they’re somehow engaged in the tourist industry.  In such a case, it’s easier if I just look for myself rather than try to convey what I want.  But she wanted to play the game … and she had an oscillating floor fan!  So I enjoyed the nice breeze while asking her (first in English, just in case, then in my own invented brand of sign language) if she had any Ramayana characters.  

Ramayana is a classic Indian epic that I understand is a major thread in the Hindu religion.  I don’t know exactly how Hinduism and Buddhism relate to each other, but I do know that the Thai form of Buddhism has retold the tale of Ramayana and incorporated it into their religion.  So although the word “character” might not translate directly, I figured Ramayana would, particularly to a woman running a shop selling religious articles and figures.  Of course, I would also have thought someone running a hotel who saw a farang pull a motorbike full of luggage into their parking lot would also figure that the farang might be interested in a hotel room.  In both cases, I was wrong.  

The woman called her teenage son to help.  Apparently he was the English speaking expert in the family.  Ramayana didn’t translate to him either.  Maybe I was saying it wrong.  So I just browsed and found some of the characters myself.  “Ramayana,” I said.  “Oh! Ramayana!” he exclaimed, pronouncing it exactly the same way I did.  With a good sense of humor, travel and cultural exchanges can be constantly entertaining.  

the world's largest souvenir

These figures were much larger than what I was looking for so I said the word for little and shrunk my fingers down.  “You want smaller,” he said.  “How big you want?”  I showed him with my fingers: about 2 inches tall.  He disappeared.  I guessed he went to the back to check their stock.  A couple minutes later he returned, looked me in the eye and flashed his motorbike keys at me.  He gave no indication how long he would be gone, but I took that communication to mean “Wait here. I’m going to get them for you.” 

The figures really weren’t all that important to me. I had just come into the store on a whim since my bike was already stopped right in front of it.  The son left in such a hurry, I didn’t have time to tell him, no, never mind. So I waited.  And waited. And waited.  I waited for 30 minutes.  During that time, I bought a cold water from his mother and drank it.  She had brought out a little stool and placed it in front of the fan for me.  For the remaining 25 minutes, she and I just smiled at each other.  I was thoroughly refreshed, but I couldn’t stand waiting there any longer.  I tried to ask whether her son was coming back in about ten different ways, but just managed to confuse the poor woman.  Finally, a smile and “mai pen rai” was all I could offer.  “Ok, bye” she said casually as if she wasn’t sure why I had been sitting in her store all this time anyway.  I laughed to myself as I walked back to my bike.  Had I misinterpreted? Had I really been waiting for nothing or had her son gone to fetch some small Ramayana characters for me?  I’ll never know. I had to giggle trying to imagine what the mother must have thought of this apparently insane white woman plopped in the middle of her store for half an hour.  Either way, she had been very kind to me.  If her son hadn’t implied I should wait, then the woman was a saint.

Before invading the woman’s store, I had been headed for a cool shower at my guesthouse.  After sitting in front of the fan for 30 minutes and drinking some water, I wasn’t quite so wilted so when I saw a sign for Wat Phra Mahathat, the one with Buddha in the tree, I made a detour and followed it.  The heat was so bad that even the short ride to the Wat made me question whether I’d made the right call.  But I was there so I went in.  On my way I passed an ice cream vendor and immediately promised myself (and the pushy vendor) a sweet reward when I finished viewing the temple.

Buddha enshrined

I have to admit that Buddha entertwined with the tree roots was very cool.  Unfortunately, the heat made everything else pass by in a blur. Or perhaps I was “watted out.”   For whatever reason, after seeing the interaction of nature and religion, I became a very lazy photographer.  Time to go. 

When I was at the elephant camp back in Pai, I noticed that the elephants trudged along  for most of the elephant ride (or “elephant carry” from their perspective) but that toward the end of the ride/carry, as we approached the river, they almost began to trot.  I felt like those elephants as I hurried back toward the pushy ice cream vendor.  We were both about to be very happy.  

I had her in my sight, but she started wheeling her cart out of the parking lot.  No, wait! I shouted inside my head. I told you I would come back!  I trotted faster and caught her halfway out the parking lot.  Now I REALLY wanted that ice cream.  She dished me up some delicious looking coconut ice cream in a cup. It was the homemade kind that has a little more ice mixed in.  She sprinkled peanuts on the top (I think Thais love peanuts on everything) and handed me a spoon.  I paid her, found the nearest trash can and scraped the peanuts off.  Not in the mood for them that day.

Now that I could see the ice cream, I was surprised to find what looked like a kernel of corn in my treat.  I picked it out with the spoon.  Yep, corn.  Hmmmm… that’s a first.  And then I spotted some diced up green vegetables in my creamy dessert as well. I nibbled on a few.  There was little flavor to them because they were frozen so they didn’t interfere with the taste of the ice cream.  So of course I ate the whole thing, corn, green veggies and all and concluded that I had stumbled on the most brilliant way for parents to get their kids to eat their veggies:  simply take them sightseeing in the hot sun all day and then treat them to ice cream laced with this nutritional goodness.  They’ll be so hot and thankful for the treat, the veggies will go down without the slightest complaint.  At least that’s how I, as a naive non-parent, viewed the situation.

There were more temples on my list of sights to see, but I was hot, tired and “watted out” so i biked “home.”  Back at the guesthouse, I took a refreshing cold shower and relaxed.  That evening, I hit the night market for a meal.  I always find it interesting to go to places that exist for the local population rather than for the farang.  Not only do I meet more locals this way, I get a better taste of what life is really like in their country.  

This particular evening was no exception.  After I finished my dinner, I wandered through the market and came across some strange version of a snake show.  Naturally, the man was speaking entirely in Thai so I was relying completely on his showmanship to understand what was going on.  At first he was really good, demonstrating a big box and acting really scared to open it. He had a mini Buddhist shrine set up on top of the box to which he directed a dramatic prayer before opening the box.  When he did open the box, he pulled out a big snake and set it on the ground. One of the food vendors was sitting next to me watching the show.  When I was engrossed in the snakeman’s show, she tickled the back of my leg with my saraong trying to scare me.  We both got a good chuckle out of it.  

live fish vendor

But from that point, the snake man’s show dragged on and on.  I told my prankster friend “more snakes, less talk” to which she giggled although I don’t think she understood what I was saying.  For all I know, it was a sales presentation for healing snake oil but the man just talked and talked and talked and we didn’t see many more snakes.  So I headed home.  

That night, I read an interesting article.  According to the article, on the road toward one of the local wats, vendors sold live fish, eels and other critters that devout Buddhists would buy to release into the river for good luck and to make merit.  It sounded like an interesting experience and opportunity.  And doesn’t everyone always need a little good luck?

Before I left town the next day, I hired mini-songteoaw (kind of a cross between a tuk tuk and a song-teaow) and headed toward  Wat Phananchoeng (aka “Buddha Visits Las Vegas”)  to release some fish for good luck.  Sure enough, I came across a vendor selling plastic bags with eels, several kinds of fish, turtles, snails.  The turtles and snails looked content in their bags and buckets and eels weren’t really my thing that day.  So I chose three bags of fish that looked the most frantic to get out and paid the lady 100 baht (about $3) for my future good luck.  Both the fish seller and my songteaow driver were amused as I made the purchase.  The vendor gave me a prayer card along with fish.  Of course it was written entirely in beautiful Thai squiggles which were illegible to my untaught eye.  

releasing fish for good luck

When we got to the Wat, I walked to the river, fish in hand, and stood with what I’m sure was a “what now?” look on my face.  A chubby Thai man must have seen that I had no idea what I was doing and stepped up to assist.  He introduced himself to me as Ot (which I knew to mean “little frog” because that was the name of “my” elephant in Pai) and authoritatively grabbed me by the hand and led me and my fish to a boat.  He told me that if released the fish by the dock, big fish were there waiting and would just eat them.  “No good luck for you!” he cautioned.  So with Ot’s guidance, I hopped on a boat and headed upstream away from the docks to the middle of the river.  Ot read the prayer card that the fish vendor had given to me in Thai and had me repeat each line. Even with his coaching, I doubt I got it all right, but I figured Buddha would understand.  

I asked Ot to photograph “the release.”  He’s apparently as much of a shutter bug as I am.  Once I turned the camera over to him, it was difficult to get back.  He not only  photographed all three releases of the happy fish (I did one bag at a time), he snapped away as I prepared to release each bag of fish and then shot about twenty photos of me (no kidding!) on the way back to the dock.  

As the sun warmed my shoulders and I smiled for camera-loving Ot, I felt very lucky indeed.

Additional photos for this and other blog entries can be found on the “Photos of Her Adventure” page of this blog.