Do you ever have those times when you get so busy you almost forget to breathe?
In a country like Australia, you get used to covering a lot of ground to get from A to B and to C. Since arriving in Sydney from Bangkok a week ago, I’ve spent most of my time in a car. My husband and I are in a ‘transition phase’: living out of suitcases and trying to tie up a lot of loose ends in different places, in what never feels like enough time. I get quite breathless.
Having both hands gripped on the wheel has meant I haven’t spent time taking pictures, let alone sorting and processing them. But, as I’ve driven along winding coastal highways, clinging to cliffs above the ocean; over twisting mountain roads in rain and hail; and across dirt tracks and tarmacs in the middle of rolling farming lands, I’ve had the company of my thoughts – and some good ABC (Australian Broadcasting Corporation) radio.
The radio reminded me that: not only is it Remembrance Day (also known as Poppy Day, Armistice Day or Veterans Day) in Commonwealth and other Allied countries to commemorate the official end of World War I – “the war to end all wars”; but at 11:11 in the morning, we have the only date with a 12-digit palindrome comprised of a single digit: 11:11:11 on 11/11/11. Numerologist call it a “high vibrational day”, which is meant to be a good thing.
In any event, it is a good reason to stop – and breathe – and reflect on those who have fallen on foreign shores.
Wild Poppy: Remembrance of Days (and Wars) Past
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe!
To you from failing hands, we throw
The torch – Be yours to hold it high!
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though
poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
– Captain John D. McCrae, 3 May 1915, Flanders
WWII Remembrance: Australian Infantry Corporal, W.W.Wood and his Headstone, Kanchanaburi Thailand
Agreed on several counts, good Aussie Radio ABC…time to breath but mostly a pause for thought, in our case on how lucky we are to live as we do in the most beautiful of countries, enjoying many many freedoms and a lifestyle the envy of nearly all… at 11am I will stop the phones, I won’t make it to the war memorial here in Liverpool, but I will pause, I will remember and I will give thanks to the all to many who died making all I said before possible… lest we forget.ReplyCancel
Good morning, Signe.
I must say, I’ve had my dollar-a-day, or whatever it costs, from old Auntie ABC this week! I put over 3000km on the rental car, and most of it with quality listening. 🙂
Hard to believe how lucky we are, isn’t it? I also find hard to believe that “we” don’t learn – the conflicts continue.
(I fixed the noted spelling error.)ReplyCancel
I guess learning from our mistakes becomes someone elses problem… buck passing at its worst. thanks for fixing envy… and Aunty does keep us informed and mostly without rhetoric of the commercial stations.. and little political bias.
see you soon I hope…ReplyCancel
Hi Anna,
Nice of you to visit! Sad that nothing seems to change.
I popped into your site – nice work! I was born in Broadgreen, Liverpool. How’s that for a small world? 😀ReplyCancel
[…] Day, Memorial Day, or Armistice Day) was a big deal, and we all learned and recited the poem “In Flanders Fields”, written about that war by Captain John D. […]ReplyCancel
After bumping along narrow Cambodian roads into oncoming trucks and buffalo carts for what seemed like a very long time, our bus pulled to a stop on the shoulder in the middle of nowhere. Our Khmer guide assured us we were at the back entrance to Beng Mealea, one of the less-visited temples of Angkor.
Mr Chhor, our guide, tells the history of the temple which we cannot yet see.
We had to take his word for it: aside from a small dirt path leading into the overgrown jungle, we could see nothing. The air hummed with heat and mosquitos as we photo-tour participants and our leaders Karl Grobl, Gavin Gough and Marco Ryan tumbled out of the bus and onto the sun-baked earth. We applied industrial strength mosquito repellant – the kind that eats leather and melts nail polish – before following our guide along the stone and dirt track into another place and time.
The clawed feet of some mythical creature lie in wait for us.
The jungle has been allowed to reclaim Beng Mealea.
Like Angkor Wat, Beng Mealea was built during the reign of Suryavarman II, that is: between 1112 and 1152. It followed a similar plan but was smaller – with only a single story. Today, the jungle has truly taken over: the central tower has collapsed, and many of the outer buildings are crumbling. Trees arch over the site, vines and aerial roots wend their way around and through what is left of the walls. The ensuing shade allows moss and fungus to coat the walls and rubble and with a patina of greens.
Moss adds a patina of colour to the delicately carved stone-work.
Mighty fig trees work their way through the temple walls.
Some work is happening here, although I couldn’t tell whether the workers, who made themselves busy when they saw us coming, were engaged in restoration or simply keeping the site clean.
With a smile for their "audience", workers strain against the heat of the day.
The colours and textures of the ruins...
Delicate greens and grays ~ Beng Mealea
Balusters falling in the windows.
Many of my companions found the site boring because there were few people to photograph. I, however, loved the dappled light through the tree-tops, the textures of the mossy stones and old walls, and the serene quiet of the site.
Lines and curves ~ moss and stone.
A jumbled tumble of mossy carved stonework covers the inner-temple floor.
The delicate floral carvings on the fallen masonry have survived the intervening centuries.
Roots and vines work their way around the old stonework.
We were told that this site was used to film scenes from Lara Croft: Tomb Raider, as a “stand in” for the similar and better known Ta Prohm. I can find no corroboration for this, but it is easy to believe. I could imagine Lara Croft working her way through the long, dark chambers and emerging from behind the hanging vines. At one point, I thought I’d found her…
Our guide explains the construction of the temple.
… but, alas, it was only members of my group.
As we left the grounds on the side where most people enter, afternoon storm clouds were gathering over the lotus-filled moat. Cows grazed and hawkers raced over to sell us scarves and drinks.
Magic afternoon ~ the rains will soon be here.
Home from the fields.
And there we were – back in “modern” rural Cambodia.
it must be an amazing feeling standing in places with such rich history and wonderful colour… I guess your companions didn’t feel the history the way you do… thanks for sharing it.ReplyCancel
Cemeteries, especially old ones, speak volumes. The epitaphs engraved on the headstones, tombs, and mausoleums tell stories about the living. The materials and style of the contruction, the location and orientation of the graves themselves, and the way in which they are cared for, give insights into people’s priorities. The study of burial rituals is one of the mainstays of cultural anthropology, illuminating, as it does, so much about the values and organisation of a society. Photographically, graveyards are a goldmine: rich with textured surfaces and subtle tones.
Chinese graveyards can be particularly interesting. Traditionally, they were built into hills – the higher the better. Funeral observances were elaborate and bodies were buried intact, with the food, money and goods that they might need in the afterlife. During the annual Qingming Festival, the tributes were paid to the dead, and the graves were swept and cleaned. With the pressure of population and scares resources, the idea of cremation was promoted, so that today many Chinese graveyards include provisions for urns.
A Chinese Grave ~ Hua Hin, Thailand
In many places, however, frugality is ignored. Where money and space permit, urns are housed in mausoleums as large and ostentatious as ever, as is ‘befitting’ the stature of the ancestor.
The spiritual importance of one’s ancestors in Chinese culture makes the old Chinese cemetery on Silom Road in Bangkok even more surprising. Sinking into a watery grave itself, overrun by pumkin vines, weeds and mangy dogs, it is hard to imagine the ancestors feeling at home there.
Sinking into obscurity, in the heart of Bangkok's commercial centre.
Guardian Lion ~ The Chinese Graveyard, Silom Road, Bangkok
Water and Weeds ~ Chinese Graveyard, Silom Road
I had wanted to visit this place years ago when a photographer friend of mine posted the results of one of his visits on his Flickr site, but I never quite made it. It took the suggestion of visiting Manhattan-based artist, Jenny Krasner to pique my interest once again.
Truthfully, had I been alone, I would have never ventured past the gate! Beyond the walled car park, a large sala (pavilion) gave shade and shelter to a collection of rough-looking Thais and assorted car parts and bits of machinery. We greeted the men cautiously in our best Thai, and when they ignored us, we assumed it was safe to proceed. The graves themselves are surrounded by water, and we had to climb over stones, broken glass and rusting cans to get to the pathway between the headstones. I was wishing I was wearing closed shoes, trying to remember when I had last had a tetanus shot and wondering what the place would look like in rainy season (we were there early summer) while picking my way gingerly over the uneven ground with my camera gear. The pack of resident soi dogs (we counted 20), somnolent from the late morning heat, growled and barked whenever we moved too fast or got too close.
People actually live on site, and there was evidence of children on the cluttered back porch that overlooked the flooded grounds and the graves. If these people are caretakers, it is not clear what they have achieved against the decay of a cemetery which is not actually as old as it looks.
I don’t get the feeling too many spirits stay there anymore.
So – keep your eyes open this Hallowe’en! They will probably be looking for a better-kept home.
considering the wet grave sites in these photos’ one would think only a shadow of the water in there now….stay safe.ReplyCancel
Selim Hassan -November 16, 2011 - 6:08 am
I am shocked at the state of neglect in the Chinese cemetery. This is quite contrary to the degree of respect and reverence that the Chinese traditionally have towards their ancestors. I find it hard to believe that there could be no surviving descendants of those interred in the cemetery to maintain the grounds? Most cemeteries, regardless of religion, are usually kept in pristine condition. This would be an interesting story in itself.ReplyCancel
Hi Selim!
Nice of you to visit. 🙂
I agree with you: most cemeteries are maintained better than this one. If I’m reading the dates right, this one is only 87 years old. ReplyCancel
Interesting shots Ursula. I concur with your reading of the date B.E. 2467 which would make it 1924. Certainly looks much older than 87 years!ReplyCancel
Always happy to have your visits, Guava! 🙂ReplyCancel
Khin May Hlyan ( May ) -November 2, 2012 - 6:26 am
Hi Ursula
I came from Burma but I have been living in Thailand for 10 years. My grandfather was buried in this cemetery. When I first came here, I asked one of my relatives to take me to the cemetery so that I could pay respect to my grandpa. Since then, I have been paying respect to my grandpa whenever I was around that area. I think more than 10 times now. Before I always went inside the cemetery but I couldn’t go in front of my grandpa’s tomb because the ground was flooded water. However, the last two times which were in this year , I dared not even go inside in the cemetery as there were a lot of dogs in the compound where people park their cars. Before, there were about 6 or 7 dogs but now it was about 15, so I dared not go in. I apologised my grandpa and paid respect to him from the gate only.
It is so sad that the cemetery has been neglected like this. I know my aunt pays a visit on Chaingming Day every year but I don’t know whether she is still alive or not, and her children keep going or not.
I took three photos of my grandpa when I first went there and I think my grandpa’s tomb is in one of the photos that you took. It is photo number 5 and my grandpa’s tomb is beside the big one with two lions on the tomb. It is on the right side of the photo.
Do you have the photo taken from the front so that the tomb I thought is my grandpa’s? In my photo, there was a part of the big tomb and the smaller one. My grandpa’s is between them. Or from the other side of the tombs. If you have it could you please send it to my email address? I would like to take more photos like you but I dare not go in because of the dogs.
Thanks you very much for taking the photos and putting them on the website.
Best regards
MayReplyCancel
I’m so sorry to hear about your grandfather. It is sad when graveyards are not maintained properly.
I’ve had a look at my originals, and I don’t think I have what you are after. Some photos that are not on the Blog are on my Flickr site, so you could try looking at those. Just go to my Flickr page (http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursula_bkk) and search “Chinese graveyard”. The pictures currently start from page 43 (http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursula_bkk/page43/) but that changes each time I post.
[…] also recommend a read of this blog to get a photographer’s feel of the […]ReplyCancel
Jennifer Learmont -September 7, 2018 - 2:45 pm
I have visited this cemetery as a photographer on a few occasions since 2013 and have always thought it would disappear before I could come back and visit it again. Here I am in 2018 and going to visit it tomorrow. I know the dogs are noisy and if they have puppies may be dangerous but I have a good zoom on my camera and I can take photos from outside the walls. I too have wondered if the people who live there are caretakers or do they just make money from allowing people to park there. I feel great respect for the people buried there even though I am not related to them, I feel my photos may be the last ones taken of their graves – it must be a very desirable site for future real estate development. I will do my best to record what is still there.ReplyCancel
Is it safe for a Solo Male in good shape to go in and try and get some photos ? Would love to go in but a bit nervous after reading the above ? Was thinking of going tomorrow..ReplyCancel
Greg -September 23, 2018 - 10:21 am
Hi Jennifer,
Would be very keen to see your photos. I visited late 2017 in an attempt to trace my Straits Chinese family ties, specifically 2 Great GrandUncles who moved to Bangkok from Singapore in the early 1900s. However, the place was closed off and the caretaker did not allow access.
Any of your photos have closeups clear enough to read the tombstone inscriptions ?ReplyCancel
Robert Cameron -October 8, 2018 - 5:14 pm
Hi Jennifer or Ursula , I am in Bangkok now and was seriously thinking of visiting the Chinese graveyard tomorrow…I am a Male in good shape with a solid stature…should I be concerned about my safety there ? It seems very interesting to me and I am an amateur photographer…..Bob from the Cayman Islands : )ReplyCancel
Everywhere you look: every nook and cranny; every street and every market – there are unique and interesting artefacts to be discovered. This is particularly true in the old city, where each building and every object has historical, religious and/or artistic significance. Turn a corner and you make a new discovery.
Take for example, Wat Ratchanatdaram Worawiharn: a temple built by order of King Rama III (1824-1851) to honour a royal princess. Architecturally beautiful, the temple is known for it’s unique 37-tiered Loha Prasada (brazen palace) representing the 37 buddhist virtues. But, behind the temple buildings are the real treasures – Wat Ratchanada is also known for the the amulet market within its grounds.
Bordering the car park, an unprepossessing collection of stalls patched together from plywood and corrugated iron house metal shelves and plastic tubs, piled to overflowing with beads, amulets, and religious and sacred images.
Red Green and Gold ~ Wat Ratchanatdaram Roofs
Smiling Seller of Religious Images ~ Amulet Market, Wat Ratchanada
Candy-Coloured Buddhas
Good-luck Talismans
A figurine of King Taksin (1734 – 1782) nestles amongst the other icons of religious significance.
A figurine of Phra Reusi, the hermit monk, flanked by another monk and Mae Nang Kwak
Protective talismans, religious symbols and good-luck charms come in a variety of forms. Buddhas of all shapes and sizes can be found in glass, precious stone, metal and garish plastics. Fat, smiling, Chinese Buddhas mix with Sukhothai-style renditions of Siddhārtha Gautama. Turtles, dragons and other Chinese horoscope animals are jumbled together beside figurines of Hindu gods like Ganesh and Vishnu. Thai-specific iconography includes past kings, variations on the animist rice goddess, and revered Buddhist abbots. Amulets designed to be worn, tucked into pockets, or hung from car and truck mirrors, come in all sizes and form to protect the wearer or user from harm. Vials filled with liquid and herbs are made to age-old folk-magic traditions to bring love, heal sickness and ensure long life and financial security.
To a Western eye, the most noticeable talismans are the myriads of penis amulets. Ornately decorated or plain; cast in metal or resin or carved from wood, horn or bone; small or large – these protective, good-luck talismans can be seen everywhere in Thailand. Clearly they are in demand: they hang bundled on strings in the amulet shops, like bunches of bananas, ready for picking.
Penis amulets are a common sight in Thailand: worn by men or on display in homes and restaurants
Amulets, if old or if blessed by the right monk, can be priceless, and serious collectors can often be seen with a jeweller’s glass loupe examining them closely.
Wat Ratchanada is one of the busiest amulet markets in Bangkok. The morning I was there, however, it was quiet. I was with a walking group organised by ANZWG (the Australian New Zealand Women’s Group) and we had the market to ourselves as we wandered around the fluorescent-lit stalls. Sellers pass the quiet hours cleaning and stocking the dusty shelves, chatting, eating, or putting intricate amulet jewellery together.
Encasing Amulets
Close work: Making amulets
Gold amulets, ready for sale.
Tibetan-Style Bells
Metal Khmer Bowls
Office, lunchroom - all-in-one.
Tattoo, Talismans and a Smile
It’s a short walk from the amulet markets to the small neighbourhood of Baan Bat, where more treasures can be found and bartered for. With a small development loan from the Community Organizations Development Institute (CODI) this community has revitalised its traditional craft of hand-making beautiful hammered-metal monk’s begging bowls.
Alms bowls (begging bowls) are made from eight sheets of metal, representing the eight spokes of the dhamma wheel, fused together and then hammered into shape.
A local artisan shows us his wares. Alms bowls come in a range of sizes and finishes.
The Baan Bat community is at the foot of the Golden Mount (Phu Khao Thong ~ ภูเขาทอง), the artificial hill originally built by King Rama III (1787 – 1851) and topped by a chedhi finished by King Rama V (1853– 1910).
The golden spires of Wat Saket (Wat Srakes Rajavaramahavihara).
Golden candles light the way to the top of the Golden Mount.
The enduring symbol of buddhism: the lotus, rising up from the mud to the heavens.
Ring the bells as you climb the stairs up the Golden Mount and your prayers will be heard.
Golden reclining Buddha ~ lotus flower offering ~ The Golden Mount
Buddhas in all sizes and asanas (postures) greet the worshiper at the top of the Golden Mount.
Write a prayer ~ send your wishes on the wind...
Buddhist flag and Thai flag on the wind over the city.
It was a golden summer morning – full of discoveries – with clear, untroubled skies over the City of Angels.
It is rainy season here now. Today, as I write this, Bangkok is under siege from the very waters that, the rest of the year, are its lifeline. The rivers and klongs that allow us to bypass the notorious traffic jams are about to overflow. Up-country, three hundred lives and countless properties havebeen lost as the country battles the worst flooding in over 50 years. The old city and and its treasures are under threat.
It may take more than amulets and lucky charms to keep us safe.
Lovely story and images Ursula. Good luck and stay safe as the waters rise.ReplyCancel
Ursula -October 21, 2011 - 1:53 pm
Hi Kevin,
Isn’t he perfect! But who doesn’t love the original ACDC? People in Bangkok are just BEGGING to be photographed. 🙂
Hi Lisa,
Thanks for visiting!
We are on the 20th floor, so we are ok – the rest of the city, however, is likely to suffer much more than should have been necessary. 🙁ReplyCancel
The Penis talisman are called ปลัดขิก (Palad khik) and are thought to be a representation of the Siva amulets of India. They are normally worn on a string around the waist of young men as protection amulets, several can be worn at one time. I could provide more info, but I think its a bit weird that I should know so much about them! 555+ReplyCancel
Ursula -October 22, 2011 - 2:46 am
Always great to have a visit from you, Guava! Thanks for the info – I did know more than I let on – I didn’t wan’t people wondering whyIknow so much about them. 😉ReplyCancel
gas84 -August 18, 2016 - 3:30 am
Hi, do you know where can buy this Palad Khik in bigger sizes in Bangkok? I need to get it as offerings hence it has to be bigger in size instead of those key chain size. Hope you can shed some light.
There is something poignant about the end of an adventure.
It was cold on the morning of our last day on the Cathar trail. The pale almost-full Easter moon hung low in the dark sky behind the pog (rock) as we trudged from our accommodation in Cazals d’en Dessus back up the hill to the village of Roquefixade. The spring sun struggled to rise from behind the surrounding Pyrenees.
The quiet gave us opportunity to reflect on our time in the mountains: every day – new terrain, new vistas and new challenges; every evening – aches and fatigue, good food and great wine. While it is true that after almost two weeks of walking over the rugged landscape with what was later diagnosed as severely inflamed osteoarthritis of the hips, part of me was ready for a change, it was also sad to know that by the end of the day we would be at the end of our trail.
Seen the ruins of one Cathar Castle – seen them all?
We were tired and the wind was rising as we passed through the small town of Roquefixade (144 inhabitants in 2007) and looked up at the precarious rise to the Château de Roquefixade high above, so we were tempted to bypass the 45 minute climb in favour of shortening our day. But, knowing it might be a long time before we are back this way again, we tied our hats to our heads and clung to the rocks as we braved the winds on the hill.
Cross (MCMDXVI; 1986) in Roquefixade below ~ The fortress (11C) of Roquefixade above.
It was worth it.
Like the other citadels in the area, Roquefixade was built in its day to provide a vantage point over the roads in the region. Today, the rocky ruins allow us to marvel at the hardship of lives in mediaeval times in these windy aeries perched on their rocky outcrops.
Inside the Roquefixade Ruins ~ Destroyed in 1632 under the orders of Louis XIII
Flowers cling to the mountain-side in the strong winds.
A natural rock garden ~ wild flowers grow among the rocks of Roquefixade pog.
View from Roquefixade: Ariege Midi-Pyrenees
Once we descended from the chateau, we spent the day traversing along paths, through forests, over stony tracks, past ruins and across farmer’s fields.
Spring Oak
Un monticule de pierre (a cairn) marks the Cathar Path.
New growth along the path
Draft Horses in the Spring Grass
A sturdy cow keeps an eye on us as we pass.
The ridge walk ~ High above Foix
Ruins along the pathway
View from the ridge to Foix and the Ariege river below
Memorial on the hillside: "We still laugh - At the foolishness - Just like kids - But not like before" From the song "Evidemment" by France Gall.
Wildflowers on the path down to Foix
Leafy Green Ground Cover
As we descended the hill, it started to rain, making the fortresse of Foix look like a fairy-tale castle in the mist.
We’d been exceptionally lucky with the weather on our twelve days of walking. Although it had often been windy and cold, for the most part it had been clear and dry. It seemed poetic somehow that, as we descended the hill into Foix, it started to rain – and the rains looked as though they would stay for a while. We couldn’t help but feel sorry for those people who had their walk ahead of them, in what was forecast to be inclement weather.
We knew we were back in the "city" when we had to watch out for the cars passing on the highway. Foix
As we crossed the Ariège river into Foix and towards our accommodation, we met with a man with his backpack going the other way. “I’m a real Pyrenean,” he told me in French. “I live up there.” He indicated vaguely the direction we had come.
The Pyrenean
It seemed a fitting end to our trek – to meet a ‘local’ going back the other way.
We did, of course, visit the famous Foix castle – but that is another story for another day.
I note your comment about the rain, which reminds me when I was young and it rained I thought God was sad, perhaps He shared your sadness at leaving this magical place… thanks as always for taking me places I doubt I’ll ever actually walk but am ever so glad you shared them with me.ReplyCancel
gabe -October 13, 2011 - 11:16 pm
Well said and well done both the actual adventure and the story line you created. XXXReplyCancel
Ursula -October 15, 2011 - 2:53 pm
Many thanks to my two most vocal readers. 🙂ReplyCancel
- Performing the Ganga Aarti from Dasaswamedh Ghat, Varanasi
- Buddha Head from Shwedagon Pagoda, Myanmar
- Harry Clarke Window from Dingle, Ireland
- Novice Monk Shwe Yan Pyay Monastery, Myanmar
Packets of 10 for $AU50.
Or - pick any photo from my Flickr or Wanders blog photos.
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been lost as the country battles the worst flooding in over 50 years. The old city and and its treasures are under threat..jpg)
It seemed a fitting end to our trek – to meet a ‘local’ going back the other way.
Welcome home -ish…
Agreed on several counts, good Aussie Radio ABC…time to breath but mostly a pause for thought, in our case on how lucky we are to live as we do in the most beautiful of countries, enjoying many many freedoms and a lifestyle the envy of nearly all… at 11am I will stop the phones, I won’t make it to the war memorial here in Liverpool, but I will pause, I will remember and I will give thanks to the all to many who died making all I said before possible… lest we forget.
Good morning, Signe.
I must say, I’ve had my dollar-a-day, or whatever it costs, from old Auntie ABC this week! I put over 3000km on the rental car, and most of it with quality listening. 🙂
Hard to believe how lucky we are, isn’t it? I also find hard to believe that “we” don’t learn – the conflicts continue.
(I fixed the noted spelling error.)
I guess learning from our mistakes becomes someone elses problem… buck passing at its worst. thanks for fixing envy… and Aunty does keep us informed and mostly without rhetoric of the commercial stations.. and little political bias.
see you soon I hope…
ps… I stole your poem… I’ve posted it on my site.. tks
Sadly we never learn, hopefully one day we will.
Anna :o]
Hi Anna,
Nice of you to visit! Sad that nothing seems to change.
I popped into your site – nice work! I was born in Broadgreen, Liverpool. How’s that for a small world? 😀
[…] Day, Memorial Day, or Armistice Day) was a big deal, and we all learned and recited the poem “In Flanders Fields”, written about that war by Captain John D. […]