Travel arrangements in Burma are not the easiest to coordinate, so I became somewhat apprehensive upon receiving a message from my travel agent in Mandalay warning that there had been a problem booking a train ticket to Pagan (renamed Bagan by the junta government). He would have to explain in person, he said, and promptly arrived at the hotel lobby. The engine had broken down and the train schedule for the next day was uncertain, especially given that the spare parts had to come from France. The alternatives were either a bus journey or a flight. In consideration of my age, the agent thought bus travel on a bad road was not the best of ideas. But I was determined to visit Pagan, so, additional costs notwithstanding, I decided to fly.
Eager to see the architectural wonder that is Pagan, on arrival I quickly took up a friendly tonga driver's offer to take me to the ruins. Even the leisurely ride to the main site itself turned out to be a treat. On either side of the road, innumerable pagodas and stupas of all shapes and sizes dotted the fields as far as the eye could see. This peaceful atmosphere continued (almost) up to the site itself: despite its history, the site is left almost completely alone – no ticket handlers, archaeological department attendants, nor security guards in sight. The serenity is only broken a bit by overeager touts and abundant guides. But those milling around the site are mostly local residents who come to worship. There seem to be fewer foreign visitors here.
Though it is largely a free-for-all, there is one rule that is strictly adhered to: no footwear, not even socks, is allowed inside temples where worship takes place. This rule is relaxed if there is no idol inside, however, as is the case in many of the abandoned and ruined structures scattered across the site. The area of pagodas, stupas and payas (Burmese for a pagoda, also meaning 'god') is spread over an area of some 42 square kilometres. Most of the largest temples stand apart, within their own compounds or makeshift fences. A few smaller structures are also clustered together in twos or threes, and there are many more ruined structures amidst the agricultural fields than on the easily accessed main road.
Down to 2217
Pagan's tryst with Buddhism began in 1057 AD, when the ruler at the time, King Anawrahta, ordered the construction of a number of religious structures. Some of these are clearly in the Indian and Sri Lankan architectural styles of the era, possibly due to the artisans brought across the Bay of Bengal to work on the temples. At the same time, clearly local artists played an important role in raising the vast number of redbrick-and-plaster structures, some of them also decorating the outsides wall with paintings. Over the next two centuries, every king who came to power built new structures devoted to the Buddha. During the heyday of Pagan's glory, in the 12th century, some 30,000 such temples are said to have dotted this plain! The kingdom's decline began when the invading army of Kublai Khan sacked the city in 1287, in the process destroying a number of temples and other religious structures. Much of what his army left standing back then survived the centuries, only to be destroyed during the massive earthquake of 1975. Today, only 2217 pagodas, emples and stupas are left standing, all of them in various stages of decay. While some seem to have been shoddily repaired, others are in need of urgent attention.