To begin at the beginning, you must start at the end

I am new to writing a blog, and it had seemed such a simple idea to post the emails I'd sent into a single blog with a few photos (Note: more can be found on https://www.flickr.com/photos/129187095@N02/sets).  But I hadn't realized the posts would come out topsy turvy.  

And like some ancient script that is read from right to left, and from what would be our back of the book forward to the front, the blog structure apparently means that you begin at the bottom, and so, to follow chronologically the journey of these emails, you must begin reading at the end, moving upwards.

So I invite you to somehow find your way to the bottom of the oldest "older posts" to find the beginning of this journey. 

  
                                         "We find that ... we do not take a trip; a trip takes us." 
                                                                                                                      -- John Steinbeck


 

   
note: 
 Anyone more blog literate than I am probably already knows this, but I just discovered if you click on the right under ARCHIVE on February and then on Life is pure adventure, or, We do not take a trip;...  that it brings you to the first (oldest) post, then when you've skimmed through that, click on "newer posts," which will bring you to the next oldest one chronologically, et cetera

And the Journey Goes On

                            "Wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed 

                              between man and the universe." 

                                                                            ―  Anatole France

The glow of my last hours with the children and the encounters following lasts a whole week after my return; my first client tells me my face is radiant. I feel it inside.  And even dealing with jury summons and landline phones not working, light bulbs out, dead kitchen clock battery, root canal appointments, and jet lagged sleep upside-downness does not impact it, the same openness and delight in each moment and each encounter pervading each day even as when I was traveling.

Daily life continues on: watch battery dying; car break-in and window glass repairs; street cleaning parking tickets; license renewals and taxes due; dying alarm clock; insurance companies needing calls; re-credentialing forms to be filled; car dents and more insurance calls; malfunctioning fax, computers on the blitz, taxes to be filed, and stuck keys, etc.  And somewhere along the way the brightness of the glow somewhat falters…. 

I never did have the airport waiting time I had prepared for in downloading Leaving Time  to my kindle, but since my return have read snatches here and there while working out.  As I typed the book's title now, Leaving Time, I reflect that travel, in some way, in its own other world is leaving time, or at least stepping into a different relationship to time.  The stresses of "having wasted time," using time productively, rushing, being late (particularly in countries where time is not so rigid as here), lists to accomplish, et cetera lose their hold.  Time becomes more open-ended, fluid, and a locus for enjoying life. 

One day in Tilden Park, compiling these emails under the redwoods and blossoming trees, two women and a dog, one of the women a photographer,  pass by and we strike up a conversation with the same openness as travelers, and I am reminded again, each day Is a journey …  

The women tell me of a grey fox they'd seen, and the next three times I am there, at some point I look up and see the fox crossing the grass in the distance, disappearing into the trees.



            Life is short and we have never too much time for gladdening the hearts of those who 
             are traveling the dark journey with us. Oh be swift to love, make haste to be kind. 
                                                                                                                                  ― Henri Frederic Amiel

 Another aspect too, in the Leaving Time book --

The missing mother Alice's field of study was the grieving of elephants, and the book is full of passages about the grief of elephants who have suffered loss through death, echoing the loss of child and mother in the book, and I am suddenly struck at how the grieving of elephants are the book-ends (literally) of my trip, which was begun with the book When Elephants Weep that so by chance ended up the one coming from my shelves to be airport reading.  And strange how it was a women's elephant tour (which in the end I never took) which was the impetus that moved me forward into my first journey last year (and interesting that what impacted me most in my two encounters with the elephants that I did create myself while there, was the mutual delight with the baby elephants, even as on this trip it was with the children).  

last year's trip, Thailand

The grieving of elephants.  The tears that are warded off for a month once the clarity of the glow disappears, like the past-full moon disappearing into the haze of the white sky. (When I come home in the evenings, I plow through the organic fair trade mint chocolate bars that  were on sale and thus unfortunately ended up in my cupboard.)  Until in some moment of grace there's the realization the tears, I know not from where, are the only way through the tears, and this too is a journey I need to take.

It's a good time for it, its spring timing providing a time honored path and markers for this journey inward.  And the same opening, offering, being present, that was how I knew to move forward there needs must be my compass here also.


And then there is the blossoming of spring.  And as the first wave of blossoms fall away, other trees bare until now begin to put forth their own blossoms, and flowers burst into color along the sidewalks.

                                                Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

                                                                     ― Matsuo Basho, 17^th century Japanese poet 
         

                                   

Last Adventure

Only once in the taxi, after about 10 minutes, we sat in gridlock traffic. And sat. And sat. The taxi driver didn't speak English, but he got the idea that I was getting a little worried about not moving more than a few feet every few minutes, and he helped me get one of the motorcycle taxis that were passing us as we sat stuck. So I paid the taxi man my current metered fare, and transferred to the motorcycle, my very heavy by now backpack luggage on my back, and we whizzed our way along the narrow gap between cars (once I was afraid I'd catch on a car's mirror).  It was a little scary, but less scary than sitting in traffic risking missing my plane.  

 

Very quickly we arrived to the sky train, which fortunately came after only ten minutes, so that I arrived at the airport very close to my target time, and by the time I'd checked my luggage and gone through mmigration, it was a good forty-five minutes before boarding time. (Which forty-five minutes might well have been spent in gridlock had not I been able to change to the motorcycle taxi!)

 They must have boarded the plane early, because after perusing the food court (the food there was way expensive and I was regretting not having taken time in the end to grab something to eat earlier at the market, or on my way back to the hotel but by then hadn't wanted to risk being late) and answering emails on the free computers, when I arrived at my boarding pass's stated boarding time, it was the Final Call with almost everyone already on board.  Happily dinner came soon after take-out, and the sweet airline stewardess found me an extra piece of the delicious pineapple cake that was the desert.

Am in Tapei now, boarding my SFO flight in about half an hour.

 

What Are the Odds?

What Pho Reclining Buddha

January 21, sent from Taipei airport

ferry to Wat Arun

In a city of fifteen million, what are the odds that this morning, sitting on a pier to watch the sun rise on Wat Arun, Temple of Dawn, before catching the ferry across (which hadn't been a place I was even going to go, until my chance meeting with the Korean lady on yesterday's boat ride)—and a twenty minute walk the other direction from my hotel than the first evening—I should again meet the young civil servant of the Department of the Interior who had guided me to the pad thai restaurant the evening of my arrival (and he, not coming to work his usual route from his house near the restaurant that morning but from the opposite direction by river from his wife's place downtown)?

my guide to the pad thai restaurant

I'm sitting there when someone asks me about if I like pad thai and at first take I think it's someone trying to steer me toward an eatery and then I recognize it's him, asking me if I liked the pad thai at the restaurant he'd recommended.  I was so happy, because I had been wanting to have been able to tell him that I did wait in the long line for the pad thai, and that it had been very good!  Now I was able to.

Wat Arun steps

It's so amazing.  Had I tarried a couple minutes longer getting my chicken satay with peanut sauce in the outside market this morning, or sat longer on the esplanade to watch the egrets from there, it would not have happened.  Even that first encounter—had I been thirty seconds shorter time or thirty seconds longer in Wat Suthap that first evening, or not taken the exact amount of time I did to borrow the third baht coin for the toilet within the courtyard—I would not have met him the first night. Mathematicians among you, what ARE the odds?

After our greetings and a short conversation, I did cross over to Wat Arun, and climb the steepest tallest steps I've ever climbed (even holding to railings both sides, I nearly stopped half way it was so scary steep) up the temple tower.  

 


 

Then, crossing back, I went to Wat Pho, with its the large reclining Buddha statue, and many other
shrine rooms with other Buddha statues, and the main lovely hall with a large golden Buddha where the monks were praying in their melodious chants.  


 The wooden window shutters of one of shrine rooms, the one with the Buddha with the overarching serpent heads, were painted with two Europeans in their shirttails and breeches.

  In the encircling cloistered walk, rows of chairs and desks were set up for the Pali examinations for the monks, which posters on the entrance announced. 

monks looking at exam schedule

 

 

desks set up for monks' Pali examinations

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Elsewhere there were walls covered with inscriptions and engravings, a vast library of knowledge and wisdom. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There was also an area with stone figures of monk yogis with marvelous expressions, one in pain with one hand on his head and the other holding his lower tooth, another with a very dejected expression, hands cupping his chin.

Spent quite a bit of time there exploring; then, buying a couple unexpected items, I located a place to change the few dollars on me to buy the Grand Palace ticket. Looking for something to eat in the market, a man told me that the Grand Palace was closed until 1 pm because of a religious holiday, and I was dismayed as I had to be heading back to my hotel for my flight by 1pm.  I went on anyway, expecting to be turned back, but it turned out to be quite open.  [I later read that this was a common scam: they tell people it's closed for a religious holiday and offer to bring you somewhere else, where they get a commission for having brought you.]

Wasn't so fresh by the time I arrived at the Grand Palace, and it was very, very crowded with tourists;

had meant to arrive earlier.  The—there's a great word here that I just found out the meaning of this year, that means from which something takes its name, and if I could remember it, I could use it here! but I don't remember the word….  The Buddha of the Temple of the Emerald Buddha was actually not emerald at all, and quite small.  I couldn't find the chapel with the Crystal Buddha that the guide brochure mentioned, and none of the tour guides I asked knew either, though did pick up some interesting tidbits of history from some of the tour guides talking to their respective groups as I wandered around. The murals adorning the covered wall walkways were magnificent, though, and the throne room with its golden throne, a golden boat behind, was quite magnificent, as was the coronation hall, and all the temple and palace exteriors were quite impressive too. Just before leaving, looked through the Emerald Buddha Museum and there were some lovely pieces there, too.

Came back to the hotel a few minutes early to find another bank to change a few more dollars from my luggage for my fare to the airport—I think I'd have just made it without doing so, but they told me a larger amount for the sky train that it actually was, so I thought I would end up being about 20-40 baht short (about a dollar; frustrating in that I could have easily spent that much less in the last day or so.)  So raced to the bank and back to get a taxi to the sky train station.

"Police Rescue Box" at Wat Arun

Last email -- Ayutthaya and October 14 1973 monument

                 

Ayutthaya

January 20 

Dear All,

This IS the last email from here (unless you get a bonus one from one of the airports en route).

topiary elephants at Summer Palace

 Lucked out on the Ayutthaya tour and had the single front row seat on both the pick-up van and the tour bus, so a great view.  I was also the last picked up in the pre-trip van, and first dropped off, which was nice. Met a lovely couple of French women in their late 60s on the bus behind me, a nice couple from Michigan on the other side of the aisle traveling for three months, and on the boat a Korean daughter and mother (who told me all sorts of more Bangkok sights I absolutely needed to see), as well as a Syrian who's now working in Saudi Arabia (he and both the Koreans had lived, worked, or studied in the U.S.). 

Somehow forgot my hat and sunscreen—but it was great because ended up picking up a hat that unfolds into a fan and so is quite packable!  And the Michigan lady kindly offered me some of their sunscreen.

Summer Palace

 On the bus trip to Ayutthaya, learned quite a bit about Thailand, though the tour guide was somewhat hard to understand at times (I notice that the Thais drop their final s's too, just like the Burmese...):   Bangkok means City of the Angels, and Thailand means  Land of the Free. Bangkok has 15 million people living or working in it, and is currently #2 (was #1) in the world in terms of traffic jams, with its 7 million cars (not counting the motorbikes and tuk-tuks). Main income source is rice (three crops a year), second is tourists.  The King Rama IV (the King in the "King and I") was a monk for seven years before his older brother died leaving him the throne, and he had 87 children.

King Rama IV's Throne Room

Visiting King Rama IV's Royal Summer Palace near Ayutthaya was interesting, and seeing his throne room, and his bedroom. 



 
 
The Ayutthaya ruins were great, but wish there had been more time to simply walk around and absorb it.  In addition we visited three temples in the area, each quite special, before the 50 minute drive to the boat (which we shared with two other Sun River tour busloads).  

Ayutthaya ruins

temple in Ayutthaya

temple in Ayutthaya

The Thai buffet on the boat was quite sumptuous with delicious tamarind deep fried fish, green curry chicken, spicy sour soup, sushi, and small sticky rice with mango dishes, fruit, and real chocolate cake (Myanmar chocolate is not worthy of the name chocolate, so except for a tiny chocolate wafer Richard had shared with me on his return from Bangkok, I've been in chocolate withdrawal the last seven weeks).   

view from boat

 All in all, quite happy in the end with the larger River Sun Cruise trip I ended up booking (had been interested in a smaller, more expensive Blugecko tour but they didn't return my emails until yesterday after I'd already booked.) 

Once back, after recharging my camera battery a bit, I set out again, first exploring the beautiful Wat just across the street from my hotel. Then I walked up the street, getting directions to a street cafe where I could have some mee krob  (recommended by Gabriel for me to try while I was in Bangkok) 

mee krob food stand

 and stopping by a Chinese temple—which was closed because the Princess was going to come there to pray at 7:00.  So I continued on, past another large Wat and school started by the Princess, and came to a large street where there was an October 14 1973 monument that I had noticed on the taxi drive

mee krob

to my hotel.  While I was waiting for a green light (they have traffic lights in Thailand, unlike Myanmar), I walked up the steps to find out what it was a monument for, and looked at the pictures and read the signage, and the several page account which a man at a desk kindly offered me while I was looking at the exhibit. 

doors of Wat across the street from hotel

Apparently university and high school students in 1973 had gathered momentum to protest the military dictatorship and call for a true democracy, with the same kind of dedication, activism, idealism and energy as students in America about the same time during the Vietnam era and Moratorium days.  Some of the activists had been arrested, and the students were demanding their release, as well as democratic freedoms.  They shut down the examinations, closed schools, and gathered by the thousands, as other university students from across the country, and high school students, and eventually almost even kindergarteners, poured in to join them.  On the last day there were half a million students in the streets.  As they were ready to disperse, once being told their demands would be met, the military moved in, and there was bloodshed with around 77 students dead and many injured by the end.  But they did win, several of the dictatorship left the country, and the military dictatorship was toppled.  (Something like that, at least; I might have muddled some of the details, but it was very inspiring—and very much the spirit of the times.)

Leaving the monument, I walked the two blocks further to the infamous backpacker Khao San Road, as well as the Rambuttri Street behind it with the Sleep Within hotel that I had almost booked at. Rambuttri Street wasn't much quieter than Khao San.  The two streets were a cross between the Chiang Mai Old City and the Santa Monica Mall—lights, music, eateries, bars, music, vendors, shops, a real zoo, packed with western backpackers of all ages and nationalities.  Even saw a Chabod House and a kosher falaffel stand mixed in with all the pad thai stalls.  SOoooo glad I'm in my quiet Thai neighborhood hotel.....

On my way back I stopped again at the Chinese temple at 7, but the princess' arrival time had been changed to 7:30, and by 7:20 when I next returned the arrival time had become 9:00 (though at least a handful of guards had arrived), so at that point I gave up on the idea of seeing a Thai princess and headed on back.

Hope to wake early, and see the Temple of Dawn, which is one of the places the Korean lady on the river trip had said I should see (and see it at dawn), then Wat Pho and the Grand Palace and the Emerald Beauty.  Think will not get to the Ananta Samkhom Palace this time that the Korean lady said I also had to see, as need to leave for the airport by 2:00.  Hard to believe I'll be back tomorrow night (my tomorrow will be a 48 hour tomorrow, what with the date line).

See you soon,

Zoe

Bangkok

January 19—Love Bangkok

Love Bangkok!  At least my one couple hour evening of it in this little corner where my hotel is.  (The "Love Bangkok" is in the context of having avoided it for years, given its smog and sex trafficking reputation, and anticipating a stay there with apprehension.).

sticky rice last morning

My flight was uneventful—after saying good-byes at IBEC, I'd gone into a little airport shop at Mandalay to see if there was anything for my last 300 kyat (30 cents)—and ended up spending more than a hundred times that amount, and making it to the gate just as my plane was boarding!  

last dinner

I'd taken a bag of sticky rice which they had prepared in the kitchen for my breakfast and lunch.  The night before Aung Khaing Soe, Thuzar Win, Richard, Si Mon, and (I'm blanking on her name) went out for a farewell dinner in town

pots next to restaurant last night in Sagaing

At the Bangkok airport the young man of a very nice English couple carried my bag to passport control—they taught a year in Korea, and are on their way to Vietnam where they'll look for teaching jobs too. They gave high recommendations for me to visit Wat Pho, the Reclining Buddha temple, while in Bangkok.  They said it was the one they most liked. [note: for which advice I am very grateful.  It wasn't among the other four recommendations I'd received ("the emerald Buddha," (the token vender I'd gotten to know at the Thai Temple Sunday brunch in Berkeley) the Grand Palace, a river trip (Richard at IBEC), and Ayutthaya), and I'd well might have missed it. As it was, in retrospect, if I could only have gone one of the four, that would be my choice.]

spirit house near entrance

Waited in a very long queue with four corded off lanes for a taxi (first you register for it at a little booth just by the airport doors).  Even with my printed off map with directions in Thai, the driver had to call the hotel once or twice toward the end, before depositing me in front of its inconspicuous sign on a small side street, where I register at the desk of the courtyard lobby. 

It turns out the $34 for the 4-person dorm room option was for the whole room, not one person, so I ended up splurging more than I thought in taking the deluxe standard private room (there are no non-deluxe standard rooms, just like there are no non-large eggs in our supermarkets), not just $9 more a night.  Oh well. I have a lovely quiet room with a king size bed, a nice view out the window for the brief minutes I've spent there, and a lovely private bathroom.  (And who knows who I might have unlucked out with as roommates, and even if I was the only one, my king size bed (if I ever stop writing to go to it) is much nicer than a bunk bed.  Also, as it ends, I might have been the one keeping my roommates up, so good I have my own room for their sake.

fountain in courtyard at night

There's a beautiful courtyard with trees and pools, and a large fountain in the center, and there's quite a calm, quiet feel to the place, I am so happy with it, and it's central and close to everything, without being touristy.  My only wish at this point is that I had scheduled a few days here, but at least now I've broken through my Bangkok phobia and prejudice (years ago I was told the smog was unbearable, the traffic horrible, overrun with backpackers, and with fat Europeans exploiting trafficked girls).  

shrine across canal

canal near hotel

After getting settled and taking a few minutes at the little computer  in the courtyard to send off yesterday's email, I walked along a little canal a few feet from the hotel, past little shops/apartments with their Buddha shrines, and work area, table or bed, behind closed grillwork, and beautiful flowering trees, street lamps; and across a little bridge with bright lights and music, a  golden shrine with Buddha, elephants, incense and candles and little food stalls in dark alleyways leading off to the side. I returned then to the main street and walked up a couple blocks looking for a place to eat, when I passed a beautiful Buddhist temple by the name of Wat Suthat, and went inside. 
 

Wat Suthat

Rows of Buddhas circled the periphery, with folded mosquito nets above folded cushions where monks or lay retreatants must sit for meditation.  Climbed the steps to the temple patio, where Thai people were praying with incense and flowers, and lighted candles. There I left my shoes (here, people wear shoes in the temple grounds unlike Burma, only taking them off at the threshold of the temple shrine room itself)  and climbed further up into the temple itself with its towering golden Buddha against beautifully painted walls that looked quite old, and tall windows opening to the dusk.  People were seated, kneeling, listening to a calm gentle monk's voice coming from I'm don't know where (as well as answering the occasional cell phone call or checking their messages).  Later, after I'd left, I heard chanting.  

Wat Suthat interior

There was a sign requesting an admission fee of foreigners but the booth to was closed.  I followed another sign to the toilets around the corner, and there was a sign there which requested a 3 baht donation. I showed my miscellaneous coins to someone who showed me what a baht looked like, and a kind bystander gave me a third one to add to the two I had.

Just googled Wat Suthat, and apparently it's a royal temple whose construction was begun by King Rama I in 1807 (B.E. 2350); and it's one of the oldest and largest temples in Bangkok, famed for its beautiful roof line, golden Buddha, magnificent frescoes, and giant swing out front.  If you want to see some images of it, you can go to:

http://www.sacred-destinations.com/thailand/bangkok-wat-suthat-and-giant-swing

By now, it was quite dark on the street, and several streets converging around the center square with its huge swing ediface, so I asked a passer-by where I was on my little map, and where I might find some food stalls.  He told me about a Bangkok-famous pad thai restaurant, and ended up walking me there. It was in his general direction, but he went a bit out of the way to walk me all the way—he was coming from work (he is in the MInistry of the Interior) and was very kind. 

Wat Suthat

 The place had a huge line, but diminished quickly, and I shifted over to the take-out line (50 baht instead of 80 baht, and no wait) for some delicious looking pad thai with huge prawns and tofu, all wrapped in an ultra-thin omelet pouch. I crossed the street (there are actually lights here, and pedestrians seem to have as much rights as drivers, unlike Myanmar) down the little street my guide had shown me, stopping to buy a 5 baht egg to boil for my breakfast before my 6:30 am pickup, then asked another couple people my way, and which was the safest streets to walk. Everyone assured me it was safe to walk alone, but to hold my purse in front of me, and some streets were darker than others.  A sweet young man on a motorcycle I'd asked directions of actually caught up with me later, sort of like a guardian angel making sure I was finding my way.  So I felt very supported, and that Thai people are really are lovely too.

love to you all,

Zoe

An hour later, back at IBEC -- and a Bird's Eye View

 

pagoda at top of hill in mist

Now I am back at the guesthouse at IBEC, and the rain has been pouring down so torrentially that I’ve not been able to go up to the kitchen for lunch, or to see the novices, and the hill walk is probably out of the question.  A woman here who is cooking for the students invited me to wait and join them, and I have an umbrella lent me, so I’ll wait until the rain lifts a bit, then venture a walk up.   

Sunday evening

 So had a delicious lunch of fried “goat” that turned out to be fried “gourd”, as well as gourd soup, chicken bones, and tea leaf salad.  After lunch the rain let up completely and I walked up to the monastery. The school area was deserted, none of my novices to be seen, so I ventured up the hill.

 A white dog, following after two novices, balked when it saw me; it was so very frightened; at last, as I stepped further off the path, it gathered courage and timidly came forward, then trotted as fast as it could while it actually passed me; then, once passed, slowed back to its slower pace as it proceeded down the path, so shy and frightened my heart went out to it.

A few minutes after I’d reached the crest the sun came out, the sky clearing and the late afternoon/early evening bathed in light.  I sat on the steps of the path, the light translucent in the yellow leaves, and watched the sun set, a brilliant, fire-red orb, into the  evening mist.  My last evening in Burma.

All in all, across all the difficult moments as well as the wonderful ones, the journey throughout feels such a graced one, filling my heart to overflowing.

With love,

Zoe

p.s.  The internet would not work last night, nor at all this morning, so I send this from the courtyard of the quiet Bangkok hotel where I've just arrived, about a 15 minute walk from the Grand Palace.  (Bangkok is HUGE, must be as large as at least a dozen if not a hundred San Francisco's piled together.)


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Drawing back for a bird's eye overview of the trip as a whole

The prelude of the first week [Nov 20-Nov 26] in Yangon with the BizLeap trainees and the trip to Mandalay and Sagaing [Nov 27-28] and the first two weeks at IBEC [Nov 29-Dec 12] were quite active with teaching and being welcomed and shown around by everyone. 

The next couple weeks [Dec 13—27], which included the eye clinic opening trip, were open-ended and winging it day by day, but as Aung helped create the Under the Trees Classroom for me, the days took on a good rhythm of time in the hills and special time with the novices of all ages, as well as helping Thuzar and  friends with their scholarship applications.
 

Then, soon as my ticket was changed to Jan 21, everything seemed to go awry, ushering in a challenging week [Dec 28-Jan 3], in which I was helped by the compass of perspectives on pilgrimage and labyrinth, and which became a week of deep, inner time in the hills, in its way the jewel embedded in the center of the journey, and its core.

New Year's was followed by another two weeks of classroom teaching: one last week at IBEC  [Jan 5-Jan 11] and the second week a whole new adventure in going to Phuang Daw Oo in Mandalay [Jan 11-Jan 18] with a triple schedule of classes from morning thru the evening, and its incredible last day with the orphan/ethnic children: a beautiful and heart-opening grande finale.

With a final coda [Jan 19-21] of the two nights and days in Bangkok.