what's in your shadow?

Despite what it may sound like, I actually did a bit of sightseeing in Bangkok.

There are many, many wats (temples) in Bangkok.  I managed to see two:  Wat Pho and Wat Arun.

Wat Pho is home to the reclining buddha, and this is one big buddha, measuring 15 meters in height and 43 meters in length.  I think he feels a bit cramped in the little house they've put him in.  I don't know how he managed to get inside in the first place.  People who come to pay respect to the buddha - I should mention that even though he's reclining, we're not disturbing him because his eyes are closed - enter through the door right next to his head.  They stop and take a zillion photos, smiling in 100 different ways and posing with their fingers in 1,000 different permutations and directions.  That takes about ten minutes for each person.  Then from the head, most people zip through to the feet of the buddha in about ten seconds, because there's not much excitement going on between the neck and ankles.  It would take less than ten seconds if it weren't for that annoying guy who keeps stopping at each segment to snap pictures of the chest, belly, thighs, and legs and of course you don't want to bump into him because there's a strange smell inside and you think it's coming from him (he's kind of obese and sweaty).

look up, you fools!

the secret to happiness?

On the back side of the buddha, people buy 20 bahts (about 65 cents) worth of coins to drop into small metal buckets.  I didn't do this.  I suppose they think this is for good luck.  Maybe some people make a wish at every bucket, hence holding up the line.  Or perhaps they're doing it because that woman in front of them did it, but no one really knows why.  Nevertheless, watch how gleefully everyone is looking down to drop their little coins while wishing for a bigger house, a better job, a prettier wife, a hunkier husband, or smarter children.  Oh, what fools these mortals be.  If only they would look up to see the beautiful paintings on the wall, they would realize that the secret to happiness is in these paintings.  But they never noticed.  By the way, your not so smart children came from you.

The second and final wat I visited was Wat Arun, known as the temple of dawn.  Lazy as I am, I didn't catch it at dawn; I went just before sunrise.  I didn't find an entry to enter any of the structures, so I don't have anything interesting to tell you, except that the French woman who was cautiously descending the steep steps of the central tower said something about the descent reminded her of a Mayan ruins in Mexico.  That's all I got - it's been a while since I learned French, give me a break.  Besides, I deliberately stayed several steps behind her so that in case she fell, she wouldn't take me down with her.

One final touristic attraction to tell you about is Jim Thompson's house.  To make a long story short, good old Jim was an American Architect born in 1906 who was sent to Thailand as a military officer.  He fell in love with the country as well as its beautiful silk.  He later settled in Thailand, exported Thai silk, and made truck loads of money.  So basically what you have here is the story of Madame Butterfly, except Japan is now Thailand and Cio-Cio san becomes Thai silk.

But I digress.  At some point in his life, he saw a Chinese fortune teller who made some calculations and told him that 61 would not be a good year for him; the piece of paper on which this was written is on display in the house.  On March 26, 1967, Jim visited the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia and disappeared.  He was 61 years old.  Goosebumps and chills, right?

One little interesting thing I learned during the guided tour at his old residence was that most homes and business in Thailand have a small spirit house, which is a small altar or shrine meant to house old spirits.  It is typically placed in one corner of the property such that the shadow of the main house would never fall upon the spirit house.  Now that's respect.  Or simply fear.  I think they often go hand in hand.  Human beings tend to respect and fear the unknown.

But I wondered about something else when I heard this tidbit.  Is there a part of me that's constantly in my own shadow?  And is there a part of me that I'm always protecting to never be in the shadow?