1-18-2010: Bayon and the Churning of the Ocean of Milk

5:00 AM wakeup call, by 6:30 we’re on the road to Angkor Wat. George had assured us it’s essential to get out early to get the best light for photos; we will also avoid the tour buses and the heat of the day. That’s ok, but we refuse to get up to see the sun rise. (Late night in Asia is work time for us; when it’s morning in America and we need to return emails and phone calls).

At this hour of the day, the air is a pleasant temperature and the streets are still quiet. We don’t have far to go - the main temple groups aren’t far out of town.

The first stop is to get a pass to visit the temples, at a fairly new and organized station where we handed over $60 (each!) for a laminated seven day pass with our pictures printed on it. The passes will allow us entry to all of the temples in the area. None too soon; as we are getting ready to leave, there is a tour bus pulling up behind us, passengers spilling out and lining up at the window to hand over their money and get their pictures taken. The race is on!

Just past the ticket station, we enter the huge archeological park with neatly kept grounds and large grassy areas for parking vehicles under the trees. We can see Angkor in front of us, its distinctive silhouette against a hazy sky; groups of people are gathering on the causeway to the temple.

We decide to go on to another nearby temple called Bayon which we should have to ourselves for a little while. It is a temple set right in the middle of what was a city called Angkor Thom; the town is long gone but the stone temple and outer wall remains.

In its day, the Khmer empire was a powerful and wealthy one, marked by periodic battles with the Cham people and the Thais. Stone temples were erected to give their Gods a home, while people lived in houses made from wood. It must have been awe-inspiring for the people of the time to see the contrast between their impermanent housing compared to the intricately detailed and extravagant buildings of the Gods. Even the palaces of the kings were made from wood, though all traces are gone, erased by time.

Only the stones remain.

Angkor Thom was a small town by today’s standards, only about 9 kilometers square, surrounded by a high wall set in a perfect square shape, which was in turn surrounded by a wide man-made moat. In the center of each side of the wall was a gate, and in the very center of the town walls sits the temple we have come to see. Angkor Thom, which means something like "big city" in Khmer, was believed to support a population of over a million people.

Just outside the walls, we stop in front of one of the gates; a tall stone gate that seems oddly compressed, the opening tall and just wide enough for an elephant topped with Howdah (platform for sitting) and parasols to squeeze through - or in these days, a bus. The narrow opening would have been a defensive way to restrict the entry of a marauding army by forcing them through a narrow opening. Topping the gate is a pointed tower, richly detailed; Nagas and Garudas, and as I stare at the tower I see a large face smiling down on me. (Garuda is a mythical Bird/Man that is very powerful. We can talk about him later).

Leading up to the gate is a causeway lined with statues. On the right side is a row of scowling demon figures called Asuras, and on the left a row of serene Devas (demigods); both sets of figures are holding something that turns out to be a giant snake with many heads, called a Naga.

The statues illustrate an Indian Myth called “Churning the Ocean of Milk”; the Devas (minor deities seen in picture above) seem to be engaged in a tug of war with the Asura Demons (picture at left), using the King of the Nagas as the rope. The story explains that the Naga was wound around a mountain which was set in the middle of the Ocean for this occasion, and the alternate tugging of Deva and Asura caused the mountain to turn and “churn” the ocean of milk. The object of the exercise, which took thousands of years, was to dredge up from the bottom of the ocean, an elixir called Amrita which was supposed to bestow immortality on whoever drank it.

I guess it’s a good thing the Naga-King volunteered for the job!

The churning of the milk produced many side effects besides the elixir; from the froth were born many precious objects such as jewels, the moon, various goddesses and beautiful celestial dancers called Apsaras. That’s the short version of the story; typical of Hindu sagas, the telling of it can no doubt go on for days, but I doubt you have that much time…

With the Bayon temple finally in front of us, my first thought was that if it weren't for the symmetry of the towers, it could be mistaken for a pile of rocks or a weirdly eroded geological formation. As we approached, faces began to appear eerily in the rock towers, and it became obvious that we were seeing something extraordinary.

The French architect Maurice Glaize** described it much more elegantly: “from afar the Bayon has the appearance of a muddle of stones, a sort of moving chaos assaulting the sky. Gradually the chaos becomes ordered, and one perceives the profusion of towers as being made from a combination of elements grouped at the centre in a sort of bunched sheaf. It’s no longer the building that matters, but only its symbolism.”

**Maurice Glaize worked as a conservator of Angkor from 1937 to 1945. More about the 'discovery' and restoration of the Angkorian temples in a later post...

On closer view, the towers turn out to be four sided with stone giant faces sculpted into each side, some of which still wear their lotus crowns. Originally there were many such towers (up to 54?) though no one is sure of the exact number; now only 37 remain. Many of the faces are badly worn or damaged but there are enough of them left to give a feeling of what it must have looked like when it was originally built.

The serene faces have an enigmatic smile and while some seem to have eyes closed in contemplation, others have open eyes with an infinite gaze. The stone is gray and spotted with lichens; the lichens obscure and distract the eye from picking out the details but as the morning sun moves it picks out individual towers and brings out fascinating details. The temple has a cramped feel but thankfully there are not many people exploring the ruins yet so it is possible to find a quiet corner to contemplate and marvel and watch the sun gild a peaceful face tower or explore the many nooks and galleries within the main tower.

The gods and their devotees are depicted here too, of course, since this is their home. Devatas (female demigoddesses) with elaborate headdress stand gracefully by windows and doorways and Apsaras still dance on nearly every column. Bayon was built by a man who considered himself a God-King, and scholars believe the faces on the towers were modeled on his face. What is certain is that this king initiated a frenzy of monument building in the late 12th century, and that although the temples are Buddhist, they bear many references to Hinduism as well. Some think that the King considered Buddha and Vishnu to be the same entity.

I could spend many hours here and not get tired of exploring…but that will have to wait. The tour buses are arriving and the sun is getting warm.

Time to move on.

Pair of apsaras dancing in their typical poses under a window. Can you spot the small lions at their feet?

Lintel from one of the doorways (see picture above- this is the horizontal piece over one of the doorways). The Demon like figure (lower center) is called Kala; he is a giant, and the god of destruction. He is commonly found above doorways. Above Kala is a small praying figure which has unfortunately lost his head to looters.

Central tower: if you look closely you can see the figures seated cross-legged and praying (left side of picture near the middle), as well as two of the face towers on the right.