So I haven't written in a while as I have been stranded on an island in paradise... poor me. Ten days on Koh Chang was a terrible burden to bear but somehow I seem to have survived and now find myself in Seoul. Yes, I have made the big move, am terribly jet lagged, but really excited. All I can say right now is my city is amazing.
In the next few days there will be much more posted on Thailand, Seoul, teaching, life, adjusting, and everything else anyone might want (or not want) to know.
For now... LIFE IS GOOD.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Temples
Vines twist around the rusty iron gate. It stands, a proud relic amidst the restaurants and shops crowding the city street.
'Come in, come in!' an old Thai man calls to me from inside.
He wears a blue baseball cap covered in flag pins from around the world and is eager to show off his English skills. He tells me I should come inside to see the temple, that he was a monk here for fifteen years before leaving the monastery to care for his elderly parents. Then he tells me about a flower festival happening this weekend and points out the night markets.
'You are a special friend,' he says, 'and when you walk by to see the markets you must come see me. You'll know me by my hat.'
I smile, thank him and agree, wondering how many 'special friends' he's made during his time standing guard at the temple gate.
This temple is indeed special, not because it is big and grand like many in Chiang Mai. This temple is humble and real. I am the only one inside the gates besides the monks, caretakers, and requisite street dogs. The sounds of a vibrant city dissipate into distant memories as I enter beneath a canopy of thick broad leaves. They sway in the breeze, playing a rhythmic song of light and shadow over the shimmering surface of the stone. Birds call to one another from the tree tops as butterflies flit to and from large magenta blossoms.
I pass the minutes wandering through this sanctuary in perfect equilibrium. No sadness, no ecstasy, just peaceful contentment and a moment to breathe outside of the bustle of the city. As I cross back through the gate I wave goodbye to my friend and leave my storybook oasis to the next passerby. I have an afternoon with friends in the city center ahead of me.
'Come in, come in!' an old Thai man calls to me from inside.
He wears a blue baseball cap covered in flag pins from around the world and is eager to show off his English skills. He tells me I should come inside to see the temple, that he was a monk here for fifteen years before leaving the monastery to care for his elderly parents. Then he tells me about a flower festival happening this weekend and points out the night markets.
'You are a special friend,' he says, 'and when you walk by to see the markets you must come see me. You'll know me by my hat.'
I smile, thank him and agree, wondering how many 'special friends' he's made during his time standing guard at the temple gate.
This temple is indeed special, not because it is big and grand like many in Chiang Mai. This temple is humble and real. I am the only one inside the gates besides the monks, caretakers, and requisite street dogs. The sounds of a vibrant city dissipate into distant memories as I enter beneath a canopy of thick broad leaves. They sway in the breeze, playing a rhythmic song of light and shadow over the shimmering surface of the stone. Birds call to one another from the tree tops as butterflies flit to and from large magenta blossoms.
I pass the minutes wandering through this sanctuary in perfect equilibrium. No sadness, no ecstasy, just peaceful contentment and a moment to breathe outside of the bustle of the city. As I cross back through the gate I wave goodbye to my friend and leave my storybook oasis to the next passerby. I have an afternoon with friends in the city center ahead of me.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Temples and Trekking - New Photos
It was a great weekend, check out more photos with this link:
Temples and Trekking Slideshow
or for thumbnails:
Temples and Trekking Photos
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Morning in Chiang Mai
I wake up before the sun rises and head out to the street. The air that envelopes me is cool, dense, and humming with the vibrations of a city awakening. This is the most peaceful time; the swarm of motorbikes has not yet taken to the street, its guttural cries not yet permeating the sounds of a night in decline.
Monks walk barefoot in their orange robes, tracing well worn routes as the sky tints pink. They stop from time to time to accept offerings of food which they return with blessings. The offerers kneel in the street, their heads bowed low as a river of chanting rains down upon them. Always when I see the monks I think there could not be people whose lives have diverged so completely, I and them, yet here we are in this Chiang Mai street, watching the morning come.
The vendors lining the street have not yet opened; their warring scents of spices do not yet fill the air. The sky is orange then yellow as a chorus of birds greets the new day. Then, in an instant, there is sun, and the city swells in recognition. The world is suddenly thrust into motion, and I stand amidst it all, my thoughts drowned out by its song.
Monks walk barefoot in their orange robes, tracing well worn routes as the sky tints pink. They stop from time to time to accept offerings of food which they return with blessings. The offerers kneel in the street, their heads bowed low as a river of chanting rains down upon them. Always when I see the monks I think there could not be people whose lives have diverged so completely, I and them, yet here we are in this Chiang Mai street, watching the morning come.
The vendors lining the street have not yet opened; their warring scents of spices do not yet fill the air. The sky is orange then yellow as a chorus of birds greets the new day. Then, in an instant, there is sun, and the city swells in recognition. The world is suddenly thrust into motion, and I stand amidst it all, my thoughts drowned out by its song.
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