I thought about my encounter with Saeng a lot yesterday. I felt so naive that I knew so little about how monks really live. I guess I just had these overriding images in my head of ashrams in India and Christian monasteries... you always hear about the poor guy who has to get up at 4:00 a.m. to cook breakfast. I thought that's what all live-in religious communities were like. Maybe some Buddhist temples are like that, too, but apparently not here. How close to hunger they live on a daily basis... how trusting, faithful, I guess, they are to count on people to bring them food every day. Not just when it's convenient, but also when it's pouring rain or when the people doing the cooking are running a bit low themselves.
I thought about it all the way back to my guest house. When I got there, I looked in my Lonely Planet guide to see what the name of Saeng's wat was, but it wasn't listed. Only the ones on the town side of the river are listed. Then I wondered if the wats that aren't actually in town get the same amount of alms as the ones that are. That made me think about Saeng's wat again. It did seem to be a little more run down than the ones on this side of the river. And the monks there, less than 20 of them, most of them seemed so young - in their teens or twenties. They all have families, Saeng had said, but they don't see them very often. I have to admit, it brought out the parent in me, too. Do they get enough fruit? They get rice in the morning and hot soup with noodles and vegetables in the afternoon, but does anyone make sure they get enough fruit?
Maybe it was a stupid thought. They have papaya and coconut trees growing wild all around them. But maybe they're not allowed to pick fruit themselves... who knows? I don't know. If they don't cook, maybe they don't harvest either. Well, I'll bring them some, just in case. What they don't want they can give to the orphan boys.
I go to the market in the morning and buy two bags of whatever I haven't seen growing wild around town... pears, oranges, rambutans, dragon fruit, passion fruit and pomelo. When I arrive, there is just one monk sitting outside near the temple. "Sawadi," he says.
"Sawadi. Uh... I brought some fruit." I'm sure there's a ritual for this. Then again, it's not my ritual so even if I knew what it was, how respectful would it be, really, to perform it? The monk just stares at me.
"Oh, wait a minute," I say. I unzip my backpack and pull out the two bags. He looks at them and nods. Fruit.
Now I feel silly. Short of just walking up the stairs and handing him the two plastic bags, I'm not sure what to do. "For the monks' lunch?" I say, and lift the bags up towards him.
He smiles. "Ahhh." Fortunately for me, buddhists put a lot of weight on intention, and now that he understands my intention he knows how to help me. He hands me a tray and I unpack the fruit and arrange it. Yeah, I think, just giving him the bags would not have been good. I'm probably supposed to bow three times or something as I give him back the tray, but like I said, it's not my ritual. I'm probably better off just following his lead, and I'm happy that he seems to accept the donation as-is.
I back down the stairs (I think I remember that you're not supposed to turn your back on a monk) and say goodbye.
"Sawadi," he says. And in English, "thank you very much."
"Uh, you're welcome." We smile at each other and I walk back across the rickety bridge into town, sit down on the stone wall by the river and watch the butterflies play.
I'm really beginning to love this place. With only three weeks left before my return ticket, I need to think about what else I want to do before going back to California. I was determined to see Cambodia on this trip... have been since before I left. But the more I've read about it, and the more I've talked to travelers who have been there recently, it has begun to feel like a place I'd rather see with someone. Interesting traveling, but not necessarily the kind of traveling I want to do alone. Everyone has stories of lawlessness at the land borders... "don't take the roads," one French guy warned me when I was in Thailand. "It doesn't go through. They dump you off on the Thai side and you have to walk across a river... if it's been raining the water is up to your knees. You have to carry your things on your head." Add to that the con artists who will sell you fake visas and the corrupt officials who will find fault with your passport photo and charge you exhorbitant rates to take another one... it sounds less and less appealing. Or maybe I just don't have the right energy for it right now.
Apparently, that sort of thing happens sometimes in Thailand too, but I had pretty good luck in Thailand. The only person who tried to rob me was a western guy at the night market in Hua Hin who reached his hand into my bag. He was clumsy, though, and bumped into me. I grabbed my bag away from him and gave him a get-away-from-me look and that was that. None of the Thai people I encountered tried to steal from me. In fact, the couple who run the bungalows at Kho Phayam were the opposite, so trusting that they let me check out and leave the island with all my stuff with more than half my bill still owing... I paid them the rest through a cafe on the mainland after going to the nearest ATM machine. At least one other guest paid her bill the same way while I was there.
Aside from Cambodia being what the French guy called "difficult traveling," and I know exactly what he means, the ancient temples at Angkor Wat, once you get to them, just seem so magnificent that I think I would want to share the experience of seeing them. And aside from that, it's hot in Cambodia right now. Up to 40 degrees, from what I've heard.
So I'm thinking I should just stay here in Luang Prabang as long as I can... as long as my tooth holds out, at least. Have I told about what happened to my tooth...?
Maybe it was a stupid thought. They have papaya and coconut trees growing wild all around them. But maybe they're not allowed to pick fruit themselves... who knows? I don't know. If they don't cook, maybe they don't harvest either. Well, I'll bring them some, just in case. What they don't want they can give to the orphan boys.
I go to the market in the morning and buy two bags of whatever I haven't seen growing wild around town... pears, oranges, rambutans, dragon fruit, passion fruit and pomelo. When I arrive, there is just one monk sitting outside near the temple. "Sawadi," he says.
"Sawadi. Uh... I brought some fruit." I'm sure there's a ritual for this. Then again, it's not my ritual so even if I knew what it was, how respectful would it be, really, to perform it? The monk just stares at me.
"Oh, wait a minute," I say. I unzip my backpack and pull out the two bags. He looks at them and nods. Fruit.
Now I feel silly. Short of just walking up the stairs and handing him the two plastic bags, I'm not sure what to do. "For the monks' lunch?" I say, and lift the bags up towards him.
He smiles. "Ahhh." Fortunately for me, buddhists put a lot of weight on intention, and now that he understands my intention he knows how to help me. He hands me a tray and I unpack the fruit and arrange it. Yeah, I think, just giving him the bags would not have been good. I'm probably supposed to bow three times or something as I give him back the tray, but like I said, it's not my ritual. I'm probably better off just following his lead, and I'm happy that he seems to accept the donation as-is.
I back down the stairs (I think I remember that you're not supposed to turn your back on a monk) and say goodbye.
"Sawadi," he says. And in English, "thank you very much."
"Uh, you're welcome." We smile at each other and I walk back across the rickety bridge into town, sit down on the stone wall by the river and watch the butterflies play.
I'm really beginning to love this place. With only three weeks left before my return ticket, I need to think about what else I want to do before going back to California. I was determined to see Cambodia on this trip... have been since before I left. But the more I've read about it, and the more I've talked to travelers who have been there recently, it has begun to feel like a place I'd rather see with someone. Interesting traveling, but not necessarily the kind of traveling I want to do alone. Everyone has stories of lawlessness at the land borders... "don't take the roads," one French guy warned me when I was in Thailand. "It doesn't go through. They dump you off on the Thai side and you have to walk across a river... if it's been raining the water is up to your knees. You have to carry your things on your head." Add to that the con artists who will sell you fake visas and the corrupt officials who will find fault with your passport photo and charge you exhorbitant rates to take another one... it sounds less and less appealing. Or maybe I just don't have the right energy for it right now.
Apparently, that sort of thing happens sometimes in Thailand too, but I had pretty good luck in Thailand. The only person who tried to rob me was a western guy at the night market in Hua Hin who reached his hand into my bag. He was clumsy, though, and bumped into me. I grabbed my bag away from him and gave him a get-away-from-me look and that was that. None of the Thai people I encountered tried to steal from me. In fact, the couple who run the bungalows at Kho Phayam were the opposite, so trusting that they let me check out and leave the island with all my stuff with more than half my bill still owing... I paid them the rest through a cafe on the mainland after going to the nearest ATM machine. At least one other guest paid her bill the same way while I was there.
Aside from Cambodia being what the French guy called "difficult traveling," and I know exactly what he means, the ancient temples at Angkor Wat, once you get to them, just seem so magnificent that I think I would want to share the experience of seeing them. And aside from that, it's hot in Cambodia right now. Up to 40 degrees, from what I've heard.
So I'm thinking I should just stay here in Luang Prabang as long as I can... as long as my tooth holds out, at least. Have I told about what happened to my tooth...?
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