Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: bodhinath, nepal, walking, magic, projectile vomiting
Every sunset in Bodhinath, the Tibetans walk endless, slow circles around their temple. The main square glows soft pink and yellow, low sunlight through dust and haze reflecting off the white dome of the stupa, and somehow every single night feels like a community party. This place wraps me in calm, especially after a few days in downtown Kathmandu.
Yesterday morning alone in my room I said to no one in particular, “I would really like someone to go for a walk with me up into the hills”. And lo! Beautiful manifestation, a few hours later Dario and Nicholas, my neighbors at the Lotus Guest House, suggested I walk up to the Kopan monastery for lunch. Dario came with me.
The road to the monastery used to be paved, but now rocks and bricks claw out from a layer of dust, dotted with drain covers labeled only ’swastika’ – no city or country designation. Apparently everyone here goes up to Kopan on Saturdays, because we shared the road with a decent sized crowd of women in bright saris and high heels, punk teenage boys smoking and playing tough (they exist everywhere), and chubby giggling three-year olds, all out for an uphill climb in the sunshine. Emerging from the city, we passed a paper factory, men spreading pulp over rows of mesh frames. Just after that, a little girl played in the dirt in front of a crumbling brick building covered in weeds with a sign in front saying “Heavenly Boarding School”.
I keep giggling, thinking about the sign at the entrance to Kopan. “While at the monastery, please refrain from killing, stealing, lying, sexual immorality, and use of intoxicating substances.” It conjures the image of horrified monks watching some drunken bar fight on the temple steps, men breaking pool cues over each other and women in short-shorts chain smoking and yelling their encouragement.
Also, made it through my first night of seriously gross food poisoning with no lingering unpleasantness. (May there be as few such nights in the future as physically possible).
Swayambhu temple guards the hill above my hotel… and a troop of monkeys guard the temple!
My thoughts are a little scattered, but so is the city. It seems appropriate. I’m heading tomorrow to stay in Bodhnath, center for Tibetan Buddhism in Nepal, and rumored to be very peaceful.
Made it into Kathmandu today. This place is crazy magic, old magic, reaching all the way across the world magic.
There’s a fuel shortage and frequent power cuts. Not sure how often I’ll be able to keep in touch, but… we’ll see.
This is going to be interesting.
When I give to the beggars, Bangkok blesses me.
This morning, I took the river taxi a stop too far, and ended up wandering aimlessly through an entire market filled with flower petals. Two square blocks of bags of flowers, up to my waist in gold and pink and red, heads of orchids peeking out between strings of marigolds. When I stumbled out of the market – undoubtedly trailing a perfume cloud behind me just from breathing there for twenty minutes – the temple I’d initially set off for appeared from behind a wall of tour buses.
Now, the thing about Bangkok is, the temples are always closed to foreigners, at least until noon, because it’s always a special buddha holiday, and at the very least on normal days you still have to go through the big door marked “Foreigner”, and buy a ticket.
However, this particular morning, I just smiled at the men who said “the temple is closed for buddha holiday”, and kept wandering in the general direction of … around. And found my way through a side door into Wat Pho. The men keeping people away because of “buddha holiday” did a wonderful job! I spent a blissful hour alone with the monks, in the cool shade of concrete pillars, watching the kittens play and letting chanting and incense drift by before a single other tourist made it inside. Finding such peace in the middle of such a chaotic place felt even better than the three showers a day with mint soap it takes to wash off the 95 F and humid city.
Also, I got a hug today!
Bangkok never really cools off. And I’m a little dehydrated, but somehow the water just doesn’t taste right, and it’s hard to force myself to drink enough of it – kind of like adjusting to the first few days of burning man.
On Julie’s advice, I set off in search of the “Golden Mount” today, and had my first real adventure in Bangkok traffic. Flocks of scooters and motorcycles part around tuk tuks – which make <i>exactly</i> that noise- and HOT PINK taxis, and everyone drives like we bike. Crossing the street goes pretty strongly against my sense of self preservation, but there usually aren’t walk signs, so… you just step off the curb slowly, and pray to whatever deity feels most appropriate. Which is how I made friends this morning with a high school history teacher, who watched my timidity in street crossing and stopped to show me the way. (After exclaiming that I must be ‘2m tall!’) This led to a stilted conversation, some list making, and tuk tuk wrangling, to show me all the important sights… for only 10 B, provided I stopped in to a tailor and a gem shop to participate in some national tourist promotion. Luckily, my budget (or lack thereof) gives me immunity to even the hot-pinkest of custom tailored suits.
Buddha gazing today also convinced me that a phenomenon I first noticed at the Tokyo airport will probably continue throughout my Asian sojourn. Half the people I meet think I’m a boy. This tweaks the part of my identity derived from ”cuteness”, and my first impulse was an immediate dress-shopping/showering/feminizing errand, but… another part of me takes a lot of comfort in shedding whatever remains of my ‘woman traveling alone’ complex. It feels like a superpower… and really, it’s more fun to pee standing up.
Filed under: Uncategorized
Safe, sound, slightly befuddled in Bangkok (land of king bling!)
Time travel is crazy. Hello from the future!
It’s my last day in Seattle for a long time, the cherry trees are blooming, and I have a very full backpack and a very small bear just waiting to bust out into the world… but one thing remains.
I meant to try and say this last night, but somewhere in the middle of the silly stories and the very full shots of Jack Daniels (thanks, Fletchy) I let my plans slide and just soaked up the company of my people. So I will say it here:
I would not be me without all of you. The bike rides and the lessons in fearlessness and the wine at 3 am, the many times you’ve held me and loved me and let me ramble on telling stories without endings… you have been my teachers and my safety net for long enough now that it’s time to see if I can fly without you. And I am more grateful for all of that than I know how to say.
So! Let it begin.
