Today is October 7th, I am a week behind schedule on Discover Temples of Thailand due to lingering monsoons, and the effects of typhoons Ragsa and Matmo. In truth today was not certain to be dry, with rainclouds abundant, but I needed to get out and shoot. I needed to get started, knowing that motivation follows action, not the other way around. I decided I would stick to the main roads as much of the backroads were likely to be flooded (or in risk of).

With conditions uncertain I did not want to place emphasis on a specific location or bring in any undue expectations. I decided on Loei as my general direction, with the idea that it is far easier to canvas areas closer to home once the timeframes begin to tighten, allowing a little more freedom for extended exploration in these initial weeks. Despite this, as it was my first rural, motorbike-based outing in almost nine-months, I spent more of the morning preparing over driving. I can’t say what compelled me to stop at this specific temple, I had little hopes of discovering much. I still carry a lot of unnecessary bias towards new temples.

The temple grounds were larger than initially visible, and as I have stated numerous times, it’s only by physically going that I can find these places. You would never know otherwise what their grounds hold. At the entrance there was a very new temple, mirrored tiles glimmering in the heat. Next to it was a large pond, and behind that the monks’ living quarters. What I could not see however, was a small road that led to another larger building.

On approach I found a nun, whom I asked about the grounds. She stated that the newer temple was called the glass temple, and has been in construction for the past three years. I asked her if it was built to appeal to visitors, to which she replied that it wasn’t. It would be a functioning temple, but was not slated to open fully until [Buddhist year] 2569, or 2026 by standard measure. She then told me that the older temple had been here since 2503, which lines up with when Udon Thani initially began expanding construction in the sixties. The people of the temple seemed reserved, and I respected that. I did not push them to appear on camera and tried to approach photographing in the same way I may perhaps photograph someone’s home, for this was their home.

I circled the older temple where I met with two workers, commissioned to build a giant Yaksha statue. they were happy with me photographing the process, but again did not want to appear on camera. The further I travel into the rural countryside the more I must expect this. They told me that the statue would take around a month to complete. I ended the conversation praising them and stating that effigies such as the Yaksha are important as it visually identifies Thailand as unique, and that many European countries have become homogenous — almost interchangeable.

After watching me from a distance speaking with the nun and workers, a teenage boy plucked up the courage to approach me, offering two bracelets. I asked him how much he wanted from them but he refused money, stating that they were a gift for visiting. I had presumed that one of the nuns had encouraged him to do this (as a lesson), so I did not press or force money onto him but accepted. I asked him if he was here studying (as many temples in rural areas double as basic educational centres) but he stated that he actually studied across the road in a public school. That was enough for me to infer that he was an orphan. It was a sensitive subject that I didn’t want to press so instead I asked him if he had been here long, and if he enjoyed it. He said yes he enjoyed it very much and that he had been here nine years. I asked him what he studied in school and he told me that he studied to be a policeman. I wished him the best of luck with it and hope that he may achieve his goals.

He continued to watch from a distance, and I sensed that he was conflicted. He seemed both very cautious and self-aware, but curious. After a little time he approached me again, and said I am allowed to photograph inside the temple, and he would guide me. I told him that I did not want to make the nuns uncomfortable, but he said it was okay. I asked him if he wanted to appear on camera and again, he did not. I made small-talk with him and did my best to balance grace for the invitation without over-stepping bounds. The nuns were mainly sleeping on the floor, with fans and mosquito nets, passing the hottest hours indoors. I noticed that the temple was full of public offerings, equipment, food, clothing and the like. They had mobility scooters and motorbikes, and were overall well stocked. It made me believe that the people here led a good life, not one in need of sympathy.

The boy finally told me that altogether the temple housed around thirty nuns, three monks and four children (likely orphans). The grounds were filled with communal exercise equipment and overall felt as though this specific temple was upkept and funded. I don’t believe I could have chosen a better temple to start this project with and will certainly go to the temple next year to see it finished. I may take Dao if she is available (she works with Udon Thani police department) as encouragement for the boy.

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Discover Temples of Thailand is supported by Angelbird Technologies with companion motion sequences in collaboration with Dehancer Film Emulation.