How temples feel
If you go to southeast Asia, odds are you'll go to many temples. Most of the temples are Buddhist, some Tao, some Hindu, and probably some others. The temples are, by and large, beautiful: ornate trims, packed with symbolism; Buddhas in many different positions, which all mean something different; the smell of incense in the air; stories depicted on the walls through elaborate images; gold and gems reflecting brightly.
One thing I wasn't expecting, however, is how it feels to walk through these places. I'm not religious or spiritual, but there's been an unmistakable "bigger than you" feeling as I've explored these places. The air feels almost thicker to walk through, like there's some ethereal presence there. I get a slight pit in my stomach. The high ceilings and the Buddhas and other statues towering over me make me feel small. My footsteps seem louder. The best example of this was the rock temple in Dambulla, Sri Lanka. I was lucky enough to walk through this one with Mom and Linda and their tour group, so we all got to experience the feeling together.
I was excited to explore the temples of Angkor in Cambodia with Kris, because I had described this feeling to him and wondered what he'd make of it. We first went to Angkor Wat, which is the best known and largest of the temples, but it felt much different. It was imposing and intimidating, all grey stone rather than jade dragons. The walls of its outer halls were all carved with extremely intricate depictions of old wars involving deities and common men. Stones on the ground in the corner pavilions were overturned and crooked, meaning you had to watch where you stepped. It was, as Kris put it aptly, like stepping into a video game. Rather than encouraging introspection, this temple lended itself to being explored, to finding some nook or cranny somewhere that no one had ever seen before, to discover some secret buried for hundreds of years.
Many of the other temples of Angkor were similar: Ta Prohm, the "Tomb Raider" temple, had been purposely left to age rather than being restored, so tree roots grew around it and through it. This was an exercise in restraint, as it begged to be explored, but visitors had to stay on a marked path. Ta Keo was a simple few steep staircases to a small room at the top, where we looked out on the surrounding area. The only place where I got a tinge of the familiar Buddhist temple feelings was at the Bayon, its many faces staring at me everywhere I went. It wasn't quite the same, however. It was actually an interesting mix of the exploration and awe from Angkor Wat and the introspective, spiritual feeling from most Buddhist temples I'd seen. It was my favourite of the temples we visited.
Some people get "templed out" while they're here, and I can understand why - there are, after all, a lot of temples, in Angkor and generally in southeast Asia. However, the feelings they evoke are unlike anything I've ever experienced. Whether they're more spiritual, quiet temples meant for meditation, or sprawling, wild temples meant for exploration, visiting them will no doubt be one of my lasting memories from the trip out here.
One thing I wasn't expecting, however, is how it feels to walk through these places. I'm not religious or spiritual, but there's been an unmistakable "bigger than you" feeling as I've explored these places. The air feels almost thicker to walk through, like there's some ethereal presence there. I get a slight pit in my stomach. The high ceilings and the Buddhas and other statues towering over me make me feel small. My footsteps seem louder. The best example of this was the rock temple in Dambulla, Sri Lanka. I was lucky enough to walk through this one with Mom and Linda and their tour group, so we all got to experience the feeling together.
I was excited to explore the temples of Angkor in Cambodia with Kris, because I had described this feeling to him and wondered what he'd make of it. We first went to Angkor Wat, which is the best known and largest of the temples, but it felt much different. It was imposing and intimidating, all grey stone rather than jade dragons. The walls of its outer halls were all carved with extremely intricate depictions of old wars involving deities and common men. Stones on the ground in the corner pavilions were overturned and crooked, meaning you had to watch where you stepped. It was, as Kris put it aptly, like stepping into a video game. Rather than encouraging introspection, this temple lended itself to being explored, to finding some nook or cranny somewhere that no one had ever seen before, to discover some secret buried for hundreds of years.
Many of the other temples of Angkor were similar: Ta Prohm, the "Tomb Raider" temple, had been purposely left to age rather than being restored, so tree roots grew around it and through it. This was an exercise in restraint, as it begged to be explored, but visitors had to stay on a marked path. Ta Keo was a simple few steep staircases to a small room at the top, where we looked out on the surrounding area. The only place where I got a tinge of the familiar Buddhist temple feelings was at the Bayon, its many faces staring at me everywhere I went. It wasn't quite the same, however. It was actually an interesting mix of the exploration and awe from Angkor Wat and the introspective, spiritual feeling from most Buddhist temples I'd seen. It was my favourite of the temples we visited.
Some people get "templed out" while they're here, and I can understand why - there are, after all, a lot of temples, in Angkor and generally in southeast Asia. However, the feelings they evoke are unlike anything I've ever experienced. Whether they're more spiritual, quiet temples meant for meditation, or sprawling, wild temples meant for exploration, visiting them will no doubt be one of my lasting memories from the trip out here.
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