Sooooo, this is the first time I have actually been required to write a blog and it’s funny that now of all times I would rather remain silent. We have had quite the interesting last week or so. Bangkok flew by, Plum Village literally danced and sang its way in to the past and now here we are, Siem Reap.
Bangkok, gave us the ability to act like we were truly on vacation. We have spent so much time pushing ourselves physically, mentally and emotionally, the bustling city gave us a new freedom. We let down our guard and ran, under the neon flashing lights, from place to place. We ate too much, got lost too much and danced just enough. I was glad for the time we had in Bangkok, but was excited to leave the hustle and bustle and the loud confusion.
We left early in the morning, early enough for even the streets to still be quite, the many food vendors just starting the clang and sizzle of cooking. we hopped into vans and left the frantic city for supposedly the most peaceful place in all of Thailand. Plum village was a confusing place for me, coming from the last dharma center I had some sort of inkling to what the next few days might be like. However Thich Naht Hahn flipped the script and went in quite a different direction. Not to say I wasn’t pleased with the experience, but as people who have met me may know, I am not the most smiley person, nor am i very likely to break in to song and interpretive dance every other hour. I am really the last person who should be publishing my opinion to the world about this place but I shall do my best to give an unbiased recount of it. When we first arrived we were thrown into lunch, and practicing mindful eating we ate in silence, as I looked around at my group members I saw looks of confusion and calm. After getting our things placed, and getting accustomed to our new homes, we enjoyed “total relaxation”-essentially guided nap time- we rose feeling refreshed. The next few days went by with a similar structure, we did every fashion of meditation you can think of, including singing… the group in general had a very transformative experience and most came away feeling refreshed and at peace. I on the other hand struggled with this experience, often clenching my jaw and practicing my poker face while I went through the motions. The sisters and monks sensing my resistance tried their best to transmit their smile to me but, if my Mom taught me anything it was how to hold a good ol’ fashioned stink eye(Thanks Mom). In hindsight I should have been more open to the experience and I hope I won’t look back with regret on Plum village.
Our final days in Thailand were spent in Kurot, a city lacking the negative effects of tourism. We were pretty much the only westerners there, and I couldn’t have been more glad. The ease and comfortability of cities like Chiang mai and Bangkok isn’t how Thailand should really be shown. Kurot will be one of my fondest memories of Thailand, we spent an extra night trying to catch the celebration of Loy Krathong. We hit the market for our last taste of Thailand. I had a proper good bye experience, one that reminded me of all the people I have met and all the things I accomplished. I was walking through the market with Indy, on the hunt for the rare and coveted napkin to clean up one of our expected messes. I was only seperated from Indy for a few moments and was walking quickly and with purpose when I was stopped in my tracks by a sweet voice,”Helloooo, how are you?”. This was the first english I had heard in Kurot and if it had been any other city or any other time I probably would have given a quick, “I am well.” and been on my way, shrugging off the experience. But the familiar words made me do a double take, and there I saw an old woman , under the awful fluorescent light she sat smiling at me apparently oblivious to the smells, noises, and bustle of the market. I gave an uncharacteristic wide smile in response and said I was well, she offered me a seat and so I did. The next few minutes she quizzed me with her limited english,”How old are you?… Where you from?… Do you have a wife?…. Why are you in Kurot?… Where are you going?….etc. etc.”. I did my best to impress her with my mostly forgotten Thai, she gave me food(cold french fries, but it’s the thought that counts!) and showered me with compliments. Her name was Luli, at least that is what I imagined she said. She told me about her life, she was 86 and had lived in Kurot her whole life, she told me about her passed husband, her daughter and her sons. She tried to tell me more but was unable to with our limited ability to speak to each other. After only a few minutes we had sadly reached our limit to communicate and we sat for a few moments in smiling silence. I stood, Wai’d-to her great suprise and excitement- and left. I will remember my short experience with this incredible sweet old lady, and will even go as far to say she is the Thai Betty White, at least to me.
We finished our night together with reflection and new goals for the remaining time we have left. We sent out our lanterns to join the dotted sky over Kurot-apparently Kurot isn’t the party spot for Loy Krathong-and went out for ice cream to celebrate. We said goodbye to this strange and familiar country and started our long journey to our next frontier,Cambodia.
After far too many hours on busses with not so honest drivers, a less than smooth experience with the border police, and a tense encounter with our new friends the infinite army of tuk tuk drivers we arrived at our hotel, granted not the hotel we had thought we had been staying at-apparently our original hotel has been closed for 3 months and the people we talked to on the phones were just Casper the friendly ghost and his roudy gang pulling a humerous prank-but a hotel none the less. Although our welcome to Cambodia was less than warming, I quickly forgave it for the thundering sunset, the glowing red moon, and the electric streets it offered in apology.
I know this was a long one so thank you for reading.
-Cole