There was a time that the drug dealer would front a good client a little dope to make it till morning.  These are not the fronts we are talking about.  There was a time in parts of old Europe and even in western towns that major streets were fronted with facades of buildings with nothing behind.  These are also not the fronts we are talking about. On this island so much has been built overtop of, in front of, in spite of everything else that the emerging clutter of the new distracts from the traditional ceremonies and practices of years gone by.

Many temple entrances and gates were adorned with spirit gaurdians, a way of creating a front for something sacred, be that home, temple or even office.

In the past 5 years this tiny island has been fronted by stores.  Store fronts everywhere.  Some very great, others simply repeats of bad ideas. The important thing about a front is that it is never real and behind all these store fronts is a struggling family that used to grow rice or fish or simply enjoy life.  The temples have been wired shut and the empty spaces occupied by trinket peddlers.  Maybe the island is simply a front for another time.

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