In the video game, Temple Run, players have to run through narrow passages of ancient temples, taking sharp turns, navigating dark alleys and jumping over pits of fire.  Apparently this is fun stuff.  If you’re 12.

In Bangkok, tourists have to walk through narrow passages (of other tourists) at temples, taking hundreds of pictures while navigating how to avoid other people (taking the same pictures) in the blazing heat of full summer sun.  Apparently this is fun.  If you’re 40.

Our children and our niece were great sports and barely, hardly, rarely, infrequently, seldomly complained.  Okay, once.  Or a hundred times, I can’t remember which.  It seems the heat turned my brain to wax – and that it seeped itself out onto the streets of Thailand.

I can’t blame them if they did complain.  There were enough golden Buddhas in Bangkok to sear silhouettes of the idols into our corneas in the overzealous sunshine.  Plus, to the kids, one temple is the same as another.  And we saw many, many temples.  It was an epic temple run.

Just a slice of Nirvana at the Royal Grand Palace.

First, the Royal Grand Palace.  This is where the Emerald Buddha resides.  He’s a small Buddha who sits way atop a mountain of symbolic beauty and tourists are not allowed to take his picture.  Of the two pictures we didn’t take – neither is usable in this blog.  I think Buddhists call this karma.

Pretty, right?  Also quite reflective.

They held up their end of the traveling bargain.

…with a modicum of bribery.

Then came Wat Po, where the reclining Buddha lives.

This is one big lounging Buddha.  Someone bring him a martini.

Finally, came Wat Arun, the Temple of the Dawn. Home of the Golden Happy Buddha.

We loooooove Happy Buddha. He seems like one of us.  But so much…golder. 

If you ever find yourself in Bangkok, all three of these temples are worth your attention. Take your camera and take your time.  They are painstakingly decorated with little pieces of glass, hand glued onto every inch of every surface – giant kaleidoscopes.  They are spectacular.

And even if the kids won’t admit it, they were every bit as cool as a mesmerizing video game.

Bangkok, Thailand.

For spring break this year, we opted to go to Thailand, a beautifully lush, absolutely vibrant country.  It was everything I thought it would be – stunning as well as devastating.  All cities probably have both qualities.  What surprised me was that both were constantly surrounding us.  The impoverished side was not banished into any separate sections of Bangkok — posh and destitute existed side by side.

We are hosting my mother and my niece for a few weeks, so they came along.

Our first stop was Bangkok.

Our guide, Anne, laughed when she explained to us that sometimes, in this city, one can experience all 3 seasons in one day:  summer, rainy and winter.  It was hard to believe.  On our visit to Bangkok, the temp hovered around 100 with 95% humidity.  It also rained a couple of times, but the showers did not alleviate the oppressive damp blanket of heat, and winter was nowhere to be seen.

I found that, often, on our trip to Thailand, like the changing of the seasons all occurring in the span of a few hours, my emotions went from euphoria to discomfort to despair in seconds.  I was so happy to be in a place I’d dreamed of visiting all my life, experiencing profound beauty. Spectacular temples and palaces, wherein 90% of the Thai people worship their Buddha.  Sensational gardens, with thousands of types of orchids abounding.

But, also, I was overwhelmed by the reality of poverty, corruption, overcrowdedness, and the injustices that plague Thailand.

The "River Dwellers'" homes are simple.

When you are soaked in sweat, navigating crowds of every nationality on earth, breathing in the horrific stench of human urine, being accosted by street and river vendors, attempting to keep track of your beloved group of 7, including 4 children, in fast city traffic — your head spins like a pinwheel in a heavy wind.  You are at once astounded by the activity, the vibrancy, the aliveness of Bangkok – and feeling the need to get away.  To sit in a peaceful place.  To feel grace again.

Thankfully, our guide sensed this, and she would offer quiet moments after blisteringly intense ones.

She took us here, for example, where we bought day old bread from monks who allowed us to feed the river fish.

10 Baht = 33 cents

Along the river, I witnessed a group of four teenagers, crouching together and arguing.  One stood up and kicked another in the head.  The latter curled into a fetal position, hands covering face, and stayed that way until I could no longer see them.

But, then, I also witnessed things like this:

…a woman selling hats.  Beautiful.  Simple.

What I took away from Bangkok was the feeling that everyone is just trying to eke out a living, fulfill hopes, dreams or destiny.  To carve out what tiny space can be theirs in a city of 9 million people.

A young man with a baby elephant selling bamboo and fruit so tourists can feed it.

Snapshots of Bangkok:

A little girl in a red dress, lighting a candle and saying a prayer to the Buddha.  An old woman in traditional dress who refused to let us take her photograph.  A seemingly harmless drug addict who watched our family take goofy pictures in the mouth of a big fake shark at the pier.  A beggar with no hands, and only a cup and a few coins in his possession.  Millions of cuts of glass, all painstakingly glued to the side of a temple, in the brightest colors imaginable.  A little boy jumping from a billboard hanging out over the side of the highway, into a polluted river to cool off.  A woman with a giant smile and rotting teeth, offering her plastic elephant souvenirs, and a “special deal” just for us.

Everyone just trying to make their way.  Just like everyone else in the world.

Like this tree that grew through cement. Finding its way.