11 - 17 November 2007

Religion, disbelief or superstition?

Bangkok is very exciting. Even after five years of travelling in dozens of strange and faraway countries, we're still happily surprised by other cultures and different people.
And we have to say, there's a lot to see in this capital. There are over a thousand temples (wats), some of which are very special; hundreds of ruins and golden pagodas and covered markets where one can literally buy anything.
Of course, Bangkok also houses the Royal Palace, compared to which the Dutch palace 'The Loo' is no more than an old shed, that needs to be taken down as soon as possible because of the danger of collapsing.

Our first week in town we visit eleven tremendous wats, the Palace, Bangkok's biggest market and the holy city pillar. After the eleventh wat we become w(h)at tired, but are still impressed.
The market of Chatuchak is, with over 15,000 stalls, too huge for a normal human being. There is too much to see, too many things one can buy, and we cannot buy anything, being cyclists. We hang around the pet market, where we can't decide whether to purchase one of the dogs wearing a dress, or a dragon lizard, an exotic snake, a couple of dotted gekko's, a rabbit for Christmas or some turtles and fish.
Unanimously we decide to leave the market emptyhanded.

The Royal Palace isn't an attraction one visits in an hour or two. The complex of temples, reception halls, museums, mausoleum, library and several living quarters is massively spacious and laviously decorated. The country's most important temple complex sits here: the Wat Phra Keo, built at the end of the 18th century by King Rama the First. The temple houses the Emerald Buddha, Thailand's most sacred Buddha statue. The statue, only measuring 66 centimetres, is completely made of green jade and symbolises the independence, power and happiness of the country's people. The Thai believe this religious talisman to hold the magical powers of their king. Three times a year the king himself changes the statue's clothing; during the hot season it wears a golden dress with diamonds, in the rain season a golden monk attire, and now, in the cool season an entire golden robe.
A meagre wardrobe in numbers, but worth more than all the clothes of a Thai village.

On the way back to our hotel we visit the city pillar temple. Here Peter gets a marriage proposal from a Thai lady while I'm away for a moment. He looks at her but she's not really beautiful and over thirty years old, so I get to keep him.

A remarkable phenomenon in the streets are the amulet stalls. Most salesmen are sitting on the ground on a simple cloth or an old sheet. The amulets are displayed on the cloth, and there are always a couple of interested people examining the amulets with magnifying glasses; are they fake or real?
Travellers who visited Thailand twenty or more years ago probably don't recognise this trade, which didn't exist at that time. One finds the amulets on the streets just since a couple of years.
The Thai people call the amulets Jakutham Ramathep, after the mythical princes Jakutham and Ramathep.
But how is it possible that a nation of 64 million people becomes totally fascinated by this fashion in such a short timespan?
In 1987 there was a fund raise for a monument in the province town of Nakhon Si Thammarat. To collect more money they sold amulets, mostly just clay tablets, with the image of Major-General Phantarak Rachade. Mister Phantarak was a successful and important man, whom the Thai believed to have magical powers. The price of an amulet at the time of the fund raise was about one euro.
Phantarak wore his amulet day and night, he became even more beloved and also very old. In the year 2006 he died at a high age, and the war of the amulets commenced, because: the amulet had proved its magical powers!

Nowadays millions of amulets are traded, many of which depicting the Buddha.The amulets are often displayed in a fine plastic or glass pendant with necklace.
The Thai, who strongly stick to their Buddhist rituals, are convinced that the amulets provide protection against physical illness, accidents and other disasters. And even more: the amulets of the Super-Rich-Millionaire series or the Money-Falls-Like-Rain-From-The-Sky series bring wealth and prosperity to the owner.
The former give-away-price of a euro has increased fifteenfold with these series, although making a tablet still doesn't cost more than ten eurocents. The real, original amulets, blessed by monks, change ownership for thousands of euros or more. More and more people spend a major part of their income purchasing real, magical amulets, although the chance of encountering an original specimen is almost nil because of the millions of fakes that look just as real and old. The amulet has become big business.

Are we, as down-to-earth Western people, sensitive to these cultural exotic influences?
No, of course not.
We, like no one else, realise the marketing technology of religion, which exploits the uncertainties of common people and earns millions with it.
Once we were in Lourdes, where we felt nauseated seeing all the reli-traders of Holy Mary statues, necklaces, rings and jerrycans with holy water.
No, we will never fall for that!
Superstition, and nothing else.
We never had a crucified Jesus hanging on the mantelpiece, just like we've never been afraid of a black cat crossing the road, or walking under a ladder. Or: Friday the Thirteenth.
Ha, ha, humbug, utter nonsense, fiddle-faddle.

Although....

At the start of our journey Peter's sister Sylvia gave us a necklace with a small Ganesh statue tied to it, the Hindu god with the elephant head who is the patron of travellers. We wore that necklace for a long time...
In South Africa a friend gave Peter a nicely shaped piece of elephant tusk, which was supposed to protect us against accidents and bad luck. Now, two years later, he still carries it in one of his bags.
In India, a year later, Peter bought a Ganesh-statue, which he tied to his front mud guard. Never had an accident since.
In Nepal in 2007 I bought a Vajra, also called Dorje, the Buddhist lightning bolt that balances the good and evil powers. It's tied to my front mud guard and my traditional somersaults belong to the past.
A smiling Buddha decorates Peters rear mud guard, laughing at his back whole day. The rest of our bicycle frames are filled with Om-stickers.

We're still in Bangkok and walk into a big tent, where monks pray for the king's well-being. He will celebrate his eightieth birthday soon. We participate in our own way and pray softly for the good man's health.
Leaving the premises the monks give us a real amulet. Blessed by themselves and for that reason of high value.

Excited, and assured of luck, happiness and safety, we rapidly put the magical talisman in our bag.