Bagan, a very small, dusty town, sits on the edge of the Irrawaddy, a few square miles of land on an arid plain in the middle of Myanmar. That is the ordinary part. The extraordinary part is that it is literally filled with temples and pagodas all built between 1000 and 1200 CE. It is said that there were once 10 000 temples and it is easy to believe this claim. What remains though is the greatest collection of Buddhist architecture that exists on the planet. Wherever the eye wanders, there are ancient buildings piercing the blue sky. As soon as one climbs up high on a building, this dreamlike landscape of devotion and art comes into view. As far as the eye can see, the magnificent architectural achievements of a long ago time thrill the mind and the heart. A great empire existed here while Europe was still struggling through a very dark period and before the stones of the first cathedrals were stacked.
One glimpses a period when the great religions of India swept off the northern plains of the Ganges and took root elsewhere. There is one remaining Hindu temple built in the late 900s, a precursor of great ideas to come. The teachings of the Bhudda were warmly welcomed and great tributes were built in his name. Architects and artists must have come from near and far to make amazing innovations in building techniques and recount in a myriad of ways the life and teaching of the Enlightened One.
Time, end of empire and earthquakes have done a great deal of damage to the structures. Reconstruction, of varying quality, has kept many of the buildings safe and usable. So the modern day visitor can wander from temple to temple filled with awe and wonder, seeking out the high points in antiquity and worship. As I wandered, I could hear guides telling all kinds of stories to their audiences. In some instances, the information was clearly wrong, but does it matter? Visitors come from all over the world to spend time here. I saw many local people walking through the temples as well.
This evening, I will leave this extraordinary place but I will never forget it.
One glimpses a period when the great religions of India swept off the northern plains of the Ganges and took root elsewhere. There is one remaining Hindu temple built in the late 900s, a precursor of great ideas to come. The teachings of the Bhudda were warmly welcomed and great tributes were built in his name. Architects and artists must have come from near and far to make amazing innovations in building techniques and recount in a myriad of ways the life and teaching of the Enlightened One.
Time, end of empire and earthquakes have done a great deal of damage to the structures. Reconstruction, of varying quality, has kept many of the buildings safe and usable. So the modern day visitor can wander from temple to temple filled with awe and wonder, seeking out the high points in antiquity and worship. As I wandered, I could hear guides telling all kinds of stories to their audiences. In some instances, the information was clearly wrong, but does it matter? Visitors come from all over the world to spend time here. I saw many local people walking through the temples as well.
This evening, I will leave this extraordinary place but I will never forget it.
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Magical.
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