The gorge is like a deep fissure in the ground, carved by the water over thousands of years. The walls are uneven, shaped by the flow of the water, with patches of moss growing here and there. In front of me is the waterfall, a stream of white water that comes crashing down into the creak below, throwing spray high into the air and filling the cave with mist that makes it nearly impossible to take a photo. I let my gaze follow the walls upwards to the small hole high above where the stream flows into the cavern. As the water tumbles over the edge it breaks into little droplets, forming clouds that billow in the air like smoke in time with the rush of air and whoosh of the water as it comes down.
The place looks like a normal temple from the outside, the facade covered in typical temple decorations with the name above the door. Once you get inside you realize it’s actually a cave, a wide tunnel burrowing some 10 or 20 meters into the rock, divided into two sections by a concrete wall. Each section has an altar against the back wall, as well as all the other paraphernalia that belong to a temple. The walls are bare rock, with carvings and niches for statues here and there, and then, in the corner next to one of the altars is … Read the rest
We are on a small outcrop of rock, both behind and in front of us lies the shallow river. We are waiting while the driver pulls the boat over some rocky rapids. In the distance sunlight spills in through the jagged mouth of the cave, illuminating the white and ochre colored walls, and the green of the jungle outside reflected in the surface of the water. A large white rock topped with green sits right in the middle of the opening, the only place exposed to enough light for something to grow.… Read the rest
I’m in a cave and all around me, on shelves and ledges, are Buddha figures, hundreds or even thousands of them. The biggest is about a meter in height and the smallest roughly the size of my finger. They show the Buddha in different postures, standing, sitting or reclining, and they are all in a different state of wear, some old and pock marked, with faded, chipped paint, some new, the gold still sparkling in the light coming in from outside. It kind of reminds me of the Hill of Crosses in Lithuania, the same kind of feeling of being … Read the rest
© 2024 Renegade Writings — Powered by WordPress
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑