Angkor What???

     Cozied up against the alluring town of Siem Reep in Cambodia hides Angkor Wat, the eighth wonder of the world.  It began during the 8th Century when King Jayavarman II declared himself the supreme being.  Building continued to develop through the reign of various kings, it changed from Buddhism to Hinduism and back again between 790 AD and 1327 AD.  The western world discovered it in 1908 and since then the French and Americans have been investing in its restoration.  But enough of history.

     We've all seen the photos of Pyramids, Machu Picchu slipping behind the cloud forests and the The Great Wall.  Angkor Wat rightfully stands among the great achievements of man.  It's scope is vast and it touches the soul like the many water lilies floating in the surrounding waters.  In Angkor Thom hundreds of faces, larger than two men standing on shoulders, are built into the temple walls.  You may recall a scene from Tomb Raider with Angelina Jolie; parts were filmed in this very spot and much was modeled after the bizarre and eerie feeling that accompanies these ruins.  The craftsmanship and stonework are so detailed it is said that it must have been done by women because a man's hand would not be capable of such delicate and beautiful work.  Every wall, every corner and ceiling and entrance are meticulously covered in stone carvings.

     I wanted to write something great for such a great place but my imagination escapes me.  Better just to let the photos do there work.  Enjoy.

If You Meet Buddha on the Road...

     Bangkok is awkwardly nestled somewhere between the the old-world tradition that we westerners commonly conjure up in in our minds and a post modern mass of skyscrapers and technology quickly making its presence known to the rest of the world.  It frantically bustles at a dizzying pace beneath a whirl-winding blanket of smog and exhaust.  The humidity only makes the tension stick to the skin more; it's a wonder the go-go girls and ladyboys are able to have such intimate moments covered in the

Khaosan Road

Yes...I ate every bug.

musk of grime and pleasure.                                                                                                                         The whole squalid scenario only adds to the charm of Bangkok.  It bothers neither the prostitutes nor their over overaged, pot-bellied counterparts.  Only under the Bangkok skyline have I encountered anything like it.  And it's fascinatingly, no intoxicatingly erotic to watch.  Like a car crash that you can't seem to take your eyes off of, coming at you over and again.  But there is so much else going on as well.  Just as the eye delights in a feast of color and speed, so is the nose bewitched by thousands          of spices and herbs being cooked in the streets.  Old mothers and young daughters who have opted out of the love profession are busy sautéing, frying and grilling every imaginable sort of treat you could imagine.  If whole fish and skewered squid doesn't flirt with your palate then there is plenty of chicken, pork and beef to be had.  Just remember, it's all spicy.  But therein lies the beauty.  Just when you think you can no longer bear the heat beating at your brain, a small chili will attack you from the inside sending those tiny marbles of sweat beading up on your forehead and upper lip.  When you put all these sensory impulses into one brain it's only a matter of time before it overloads and has to re-boot.  A mid-day nap to escape the heat and traffic usually does the trick.  When you're finally ready to cope with that, then you start to recognize the architecture.  Cozied deep in the shadows of skyscrapers and condominium buildings are the old temples and royal palaces.  Buddha is very much alive and he tranquilly watches over his flock with a passive acceptance and radiant joy while we humans go about our linear existence.  There is a saying, If you meet Buddha on the road, kill him.  He must travel by boat because he is simultaneously everywhere while comically not existing at all.  Such is the magic of the original pot-bellied wanderer.  I must meet this vagabond and share a cup of tea.

caterpillar 

The nightly market

The American Institution.  At least it's politically correct.