As I looked at the Immigration form, which the stewardess had somehow tucked between my body and my seat while I was sleeping, I turned it over and read, "Welcome to Incredible India!" I sighed, folded the form, tucked it into the back pocket of the seat in front of me and went back to sleep.
After a great couple of days in Chang Mai I had mixed feelings about coming back. I felt glad to be on the last leg of this trip and grateful to be meeting up with my new group of BYU Field Studies students, looking forward to going back to the village. I was feeling sad to leave Thailand after making some great backpacking friends. I was also dreading all the physical hardships that come with "Incredible India", and frankly I was ready to go home. After spending a full day on a bus and a restless night in the Bangkok airport I was grateful I had the whole emergency row to myself. I sprawled across the seats and slept through most of the flight--sitting up occasionally wiping the drool off my face, gingerly touching my hair wondering how bad it looked, checking my watch and then laying back down to sleep.
We landed, a half hour later than scheduled. I figured that if I was able to get stamped through immigration, pick up my large bag from the conveyer belt, and breeze through customs by 10:00am I'd grab some rupees from an ATM and take a prepaid taxi to the branch building in Chennai and try and catch at least the last two hours of church. It was 9:30 when we deplaned, but I was determined to make it, elbowing my way to the front of the line and booking it through the terminal.
I was out of the airport terminal just as my watch read 10:00! Even the taxi ride worked out great--he only had to stop and ask directions once, well twice actually. I made it just in time to hear the closing hymn--I was ecstatic. I dropped my large bag in the corner of the room, tried to smooth my hair, and asked around to find out which classroom I should be in for Sunday school. After missing two weeks of church in Thailand it felt great to be with members again. I talked with the American wives of embassy workers, some members I remembered from May, and a even made a new friend.
I walked hesitantly out of the air conditioned building to into India, wondering if I'd find it to be so incredible today. I hailed a rickshaw driver bargained a little with a laugh and rode to the Egmore railway station. I felt good to be back. It felt a little like coming home again--especially when we pulled up to Egmore station and I knew right where we were. I told the driver where the hotel was and found myself back in Hotel Regent, that place with the crazy night man from 4 months ago. It felt like I was here yesterday and it didn't hurt that the afternoon hotel manager knew my face and welcomed me with an air of family. I asked about the crazy night guy--we laughed as he said he's still working here, rolled his eyes, and talked about what a pain he is.
Dropping my bag on the stained mattress and peaking into the bathroom I remembered that I had been quite spoiled in Thailand. But now I was back in India roughing it again. There is something about the challenge of this place and yet the familiarity that has made my homesickness pass. Maybe I'm just back into that old "honeymoon phase" we talk about when discussing phases of culture shock, but I like it. I'm back in India for another 3 whole months, incredible!
Sunday, August 31, 2008
so strange it was funny
OK, OK I know I shouldn't have signed up for such a tour, but what was I supposed to do? Alone in Chang Mai, not knowing a soul, and feeling a little too lazy (or maybe too blue) to get myself out to see the place! I was standing there in my hotel lobby (which looks more like a travel agency...because that's what it is with a few rooms upstairs) looking at pictures of people riding on elephants, elephants and costumed Thais doing tricks, and white people white water rafting. I signed up and paid the 1200 baht (about 40 bucks) to the sweet lady who ran the place. She told me not to forget a towel and swimsuit and that the car would come between 8:30 and 9 the next morning to pick me up.
I don't even know how to describe the increasing hilarity of the day. It progressed so slowly into utter "weirdness" that it's hard to pinpoint when it all started and how we as a group bonded as we experienced it together.
So, we sat in the van making quick introductions as we picked up more and more people. We may have talked more, but the tour guide would not shut up, making lame jokes, and rambling on about things he didn't even know much about. The full van progressed to the Orchid and Butterfly Farm--a stop not anticipated by some. A half hour the guide told us. A half hour to see some insects and flowers! Yikes! After checking out the more moth-like butterflies than the beauties pictured in the brochure, I wandered through the orchid part. I talked with the American couple who said right away "You must be the other American we saw on the list {a list we had to fill out for insurance purposes when we first got into the van}"
"Yep." They were here in Thailand for 2 weeks hanging out at the beach. I had been in India for 4 months living in a village doing research. There are some divides that even our united nationality couldn't mend. But we had a pleasant conversation anyway. I felt a little like I was talking to a high school jock and his girlfriend, even though she insisted she just finished law school and he was working in pharmaceuticals.
After trying to make a joke about the ridiculous butterfly wing earrings at the gift shop to the nice looking German couple in our group, they looked at me a little strange. I tried to recover and make another joke, but I felt like the tour guide--being the only one laughing at his own jokes. They did warm up a little, but as I waited for the 30 minutes to be up with a little worry that today would be a long day.
Our next stop was a paper factory that makes paper out of elephant dung. I thought it might be lame and was already tired of our guide reminding us to bring our money and buy something. To my surprise the place was great--they showed us how they make paper out of real bonafide elephant dung. I know because I saw the actual dung used! I bought a large green sheet, thinking I'd cut it up into paper size and mail letters to my nieces and nephews on the elephant dung. What a great sustainable development project.
After the paper factory we went to see the ones producing the dung. The elephant camp was a bit ghetto--we could buy some bananas and feed them to the chained up elephants. The American left the young elephants to feed a large on chained near a tree and the Thais stopped them saying he was dangerous--only after they had fed him two bananas. I must admit that while it was sad to see them chained up it was great to be so close to these beautiful animals. I couldn't help but compare my awe to that which I feel for horses.
Now the camp was down a hill, it was packed down dirt, a building with a large porch with picnic tables and a small kitchen (to provide our lunch), near a river. There were some elephants (mostly young ones) on this side of the river. There were elephants with harnesses on the other side of the river. We were informed that we were to cross the river in a boat. Now first they had to fish the boat out of the water (meaning it was sinking!) and then chain the metal canoe to a set of three ropes which were tied across the river. Four of us would clumsily climb in the "boat," one of the guys would pull us across the river, and then we had to scramble up this hill (holding on to tree roots) to get to the elephant trekking.
I was asked if I'd be OK riding on the neck in that Thai accented English I was still unfamiliar with. I said OK, not really understanding. Well, what this meant was I'd be on one elephant with two tiny Korean girls. The girls were in the seat/harness and I was riding free on the neck holding on to the Thai elephant guide riding on the elephant's head. The Korean girls were great they screamed and sighed at every step while I was trying to not fall off this moving seat of mine. I hated to see the man knock the elephant over the head when the elephant wouldn't move or would be trying to eat the foliage, but I understood having ridden horses before. This is the lot of a domesticated animal. The weather was great and they took us out into this green lush valley with a beautiful blue sky. I couldn't help but imagine riding these elephants in the "olden days." I loved it when the guy got off and let me just ride the elephant, holding on to the head, while he took pictures of us and then prompted the animal from behind. It was great. And yet like everything on the tour did feel a little fake--packaged up for tourists.
After lunch we watched an Elephant Show. An unanticipated perk since we were there with a girl who had paid to stay the whole day at the elephant camp. They were doing the show for her, we just got to watch. It was like watching a low budget circus, I found myself taking pictures and yet wondering why I was. It's like a car accident; you just can't help but watch.
At this point Petra, a single female high school teacher from Germany, and I started talking. Over lunch, before and after the show she and I talked and laughed. She had had an awful time riding on the neck of her elephant. Unlike me, she had INSISTED on riding on the neck only to find out too late that her elephant had a rather large gash on its neck that was spewing blood and puss. I couldn't help but laugh at her retelling in broken English (she speaks English quite well, but when do you learn the word for elephant puss?) Prompted by my laughing she then made a dramatic speech about how she hated our tour guide, his bad jokes, and insistent talking. I laughed some more. We started to enjoy the hilarity of the tour, not just the things we were doing on the tour.
We then got on a bamboo river raft--a quiet and serene part of the tour. I ended up on the raft with all German speakers, but they were kind enough to speak in English on my behalf. We teased Petra about her elephant and laughed some more about this crazy day tour. We were then driven to the Long Neck village.
Now what you have to understand is these people aren't from Thailand. They came to Thailand because they realized that they could provide Farang with a short "anthropological” experience of visiting their village and "learning" about their culture. What they've created is a real tourist trap. The women of the village wear heavy necklaces that are made of brass. They start at a young age so as they grow their shoulders droop and they appear to have long necks. Their neck muscles DECAY enough so that they then need the support of the necklace. It was horrifying to hear as our tour guide explained all of this (except for the neck muscle thing Carl whispered that to me as we stood in the back) SICK. We walked around the "village" which was a few homes and several booths with these shoulder sagging women just weaving. They never smiled and I wondered in that bitter way why the preadolescent girls had to be subjected to such a thing instead of going to school and learning to make a living for herself that didn't involve wearing heavy jewelry for foreigners to see. No one lingered at the "village" and we got back in the car feeling a bit sick to the stomach.
We were then to go white water rafting. We changed into our swimsuits and were loaded into the back of this pickup that was rigged with two large bamboo poles for us to sit on. It wasn't much of a seat. I've been in India for 4 months mind you in some of the most crowded transportation going through some of the craziest unorganized traffic ever. But this was scary. We were driving on this bumpy dirt road near the river and I was having a blast hanging on for dear life trying not to fall out. It was like a roller coaster, but no assurance of your actual safety!
The brown water rafting was fun and not nearly as scary as the ride up the river. But the funny thing was the tour guide. He demonstrated the moves we'd have to make in response to the orders that would be given. He then made ONLY the women get in the boat on the land and practice, saying that women don't always get it. He had the five of us glaring at him as we practiced the moves. The men in our group laughed, but to their credit only when we were ready to laugh at the humiliating thing ourselves. Carlo, Petra and I had now become fast friends and all got in the same boat together. Carlo and I teased Petra that we shouldn't have gotten in her boat since she has all the bad luck. And sure enough we almost fell out because our river guides thought it'd be funny to run up against a large rock. What was even funnier was that we were more afraid of the water getting in our mouths than of falling out of the boat. That stuff was SICK.
Poor Carlo hadn't been told to bring a swimsuit, so as we changed back into our dry, clean clothes he tried his best to dry off in the sun and ignore his now brown t-shirt. We drove the hour back into Chang Mai and made one more stop, a waterfall. We hiked up the short trail to the waterfall, snapped a few photos and made plans to meet up after the tour for dinner. The Austrian guys who had joined us actually bought some fried worms from the assortment of fried insects for sale at a stall near the waterfall. They were nice enough to share and the group made enough peer pressure that we all ended up trying one or two. I ate one and then wanted a picture. Unfortunately, the second one was a little more juicy than the first and grossed me out a bit. The other American almost threw up in the car when she ate hers and insisted on chewing some gum afterwards.
Anyway, it was great to meet some fabulous new people. Traveling Thailand was getting a bit lonely and meeting these people under such “weird” circumstances made it all the more fun!
I don't even know how to describe the increasing hilarity of the day. It progressed so slowly into utter "weirdness" that it's hard to pinpoint when it all started and how we as a group bonded as we experienced it together.
So, we sat in the van making quick introductions as we picked up more and more people. We may have talked more, but the tour guide would not shut up, making lame jokes, and rambling on about things he didn't even know much about. The full van progressed to the Orchid and Butterfly Farm--a stop not anticipated by some. A half hour the guide told us. A half hour to see some insects and flowers! Yikes! After checking out the more moth-like butterflies than the beauties pictured in the brochure, I wandered through the orchid part. I talked with the American couple who said right away "You must be the other American we saw on the list {a list we had to fill out for insurance purposes when we first got into the van}"
"Yep." They were here in Thailand for 2 weeks hanging out at the beach. I had been in India for 4 months living in a village doing research. There are some divides that even our united nationality couldn't mend. But we had a pleasant conversation anyway. I felt a little like I was talking to a high school jock and his girlfriend, even though she insisted she just finished law school and he was working in pharmaceuticals.
After trying to make a joke about the ridiculous butterfly wing earrings at the gift shop to the nice looking German couple in our group, they looked at me a little strange. I tried to recover and make another joke, but I felt like the tour guide--being the only one laughing at his own jokes. They did warm up a little, but as I waited for the 30 minutes to be up with a little worry that today would be a long day.
Our next stop was a paper factory that makes paper out of elephant dung. I thought it might be lame and was already tired of our guide reminding us to bring our money and buy something. To my surprise the place was great--they showed us how they make paper out of real bonafide elephant dung. I know because I saw the actual dung used! I bought a large green sheet, thinking I'd cut it up into paper size and mail letters to my nieces and nephews on the elephant dung. What a great sustainable development project.
After the paper factory we went to see the ones producing the dung. The elephant camp was a bit ghetto--we could buy some bananas and feed them to the chained up elephants. The American left the young elephants to feed a large on chained near a tree and the Thais stopped them saying he was dangerous--only after they had fed him two bananas. I must admit that while it was sad to see them chained up it was great to be so close to these beautiful animals. I couldn't help but compare my awe to that which I feel for horses.
Now the camp was down a hill, it was packed down dirt, a building with a large porch with picnic tables and a small kitchen (to provide our lunch), near a river. There were some elephants (mostly young ones) on this side of the river. There were elephants with harnesses on the other side of the river. We were informed that we were to cross the river in a boat. Now first they had to fish the boat out of the water (meaning it was sinking!) and then chain the metal canoe to a set of three ropes which were tied across the river. Four of us would clumsily climb in the "boat," one of the guys would pull us across the river, and then we had to scramble up this hill (holding on to tree roots) to get to the elephant trekking.
I was asked if I'd be OK riding on the neck in that Thai accented English I was still unfamiliar with. I said OK, not really understanding. Well, what this meant was I'd be on one elephant with two tiny Korean girls. The girls were in the seat/harness and I was riding free on the neck holding on to the Thai elephant guide riding on the elephant's head. The Korean girls were great they screamed and sighed at every step while I was trying to not fall off this moving seat of mine. I hated to see the man knock the elephant over the head when the elephant wouldn't move or would be trying to eat the foliage, but I understood having ridden horses before. This is the lot of a domesticated animal. The weather was great and they took us out into this green lush valley with a beautiful blue sky. I couldn't help but imagine riding these elephants in the "olden days." I loved it when the guy got off and let me just ride the elephant, holding on to the head, while he took pictures of us and then prompted the animal from behind. It was great. And yet like everything on the tour did feel a little fake--packaged up for tourists.
After lunch we watched an Elephant Show. An unanticipated perk since we were there with a girl who had paid to stay the whole day at the elephant camp. They were doing the show for her, we just got to watch. It was like watching a low budget circus, I found myself taking pictures and yet wondering why I was. It's like a car accident; you just can't help but watch.
At this point Petra, a single female high school teacher from Germany, and I started talking. Over lunch, before and after the show she and I talked and laughed. She had had an awful time riding on the neck of her elephant. Unlike me, she had INSISTED on riding on the neck only to find out too late that her elephant had a rather large gash on its neck that was spewing blood and puss. I couldn't help but laugh at her retelling in broken English (she speaks English quite well, but when do you learn the word for elephant puss?) Prompted by my laughing she then made a dramatic speech about how she hated our tour guide, his bad jokes, and insistent talking. I laughed some more. We started to enjoy the hilarity of the tour, not just the things we were doing on the tour.
We then got on a bamboo river raft--a quiet and serene part of the tour. I ended up on the raft with all German speakers, but they were kind enough to speak in English on my behalf. We teased Petra about her elephant and laughed some more about this crazy day tour. We were then driven to the Long Neck village.
Now what you have to understand is these people aren't from Thailand. They came to Thailand because they realized that they could provide Farang with a short "anthropological” experience of visiting their village and "learning" about their culture. What they've created is a real tourist trap. The women of the village wear heavy necklaces that are made of brass. They start at a young age so as they grow their shoulders droop and they appear to have long necks. Their neck muscles DECAY enough so that they then need the support of the necklace. It was horrifying to hear as our tour guide explained all of this (except for the neck muscle thing Carl whispered that to me as we stood in the back) SICK. We walked around the "village" which was a few homes and several booths with these shoulder sagging women just weaving. They never smiled and I wondered in that bitter way why the preadolescent girls had to be subjected to such a thing instead of going to school and learning to make a living for herself that didn't involve wearing heavy jewelry for foreigners to see. No one lingered at the "village" and we got back in the car feeling a bit sick to the stomach.
We were then to go white water rafting. We changed into our swimsuits and were loaded into the back of this pickup that was rigged with two large bamboo poles for us to sit on. It wasn't much of a seat. I've been in India for 4 months mind you in some of the most crowded transportation going through some of the craziest unorganized traffic ever. But this was scary. We were driving on this bumpy dirt road near the river and I was having a blast hanging on for dear life trying not to fall out. It was like a roller coaster, but no assurance of your actual safety!
The brown water rafting was fun and not nearly as scary as the ride up the river. But the funny thing was the tour guide. He demonstrated the moves we'd have to make in response to the orders that would be given. He then made ONLY the women get in the boat on the land and practice, saying that women don't always get it. He had the five of us glaring at him as we practiced the moves. The men in our group laughed, but to their credit only when we were ready to laugh at the humiliating thing ourselves. Carlo, Petra and I had now become fast friends and all got in the same boat together. Carlo and I teased Petra that we shouldn't have gotten in her boat since she has all the bad luck. And sure enough we almost fell out because our river guides thought it'd be funny to run up against a large rock. What was even funnier was that we were more afraid of the water getting in our mouths than of falling out of the boat. That stuff was SICK.
Poor Carlo hadn't been told to bring a swimsuit, so as we changed back into our dry, clean clothes he tried his best to dry off in the sun and ignore his now brown t-shirt. We drove the hour back into Chang Mai and made one more stop, a waterfall. We hiked up the short trail to the waterfall, snapped a few photos and made plans to meet up after the tour for dinner. The Austrian guys who had joined us actually bought some fried worms from the assortment of fried insects for sale at a stall near the waterfall. They were nice enough to share and the group made enough peer pressure that we all ended up trying one or two. I ate one and then wanted a picture. Unfortunately, the second one was a little more juicy than the first and grossed me out a bit. The other American almost threw up in the car when she ate hers and insisted on chewing some gum afterwards.
Anyway, it was great to meet some fabulous new people. Traveling Thailand was getting a bit lonely and meeting these people under such “weird” circumstances made it all the more fun!
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Being a Tourist in Thailand
I keep trying to write a blog entry to capture my time in Amritsar, but it hasn't quite worked out. I'll give it another go, but in the meantime I'll tell you what I'm doing now.
I'm on vacation!! If India wasn't exotic enough to sound like a vacation--well it wasn't. I've come to Thailand for a bit of a break from the heat and a chance to fix my really bad farmers tan while reading on the beautiful beaches of Thailand.
I think two significant things have come to mind since I've come to Thailand. One, I have become a world traveler. Even though I have spent quite a bit of time outside the country I've never felt like a 'World Traveler." I'm not much into titles anyway, but that title in particular seems only appropriate for men who charter their own boats through the remote regions of the Amazon. But as I arrived in Bangkok, got Baht from the ATM, found a cheaper bus to the touristy Kao San Road, arrived to find my friend no where in sight, walked around a bit, checked my email, and met up with her at a designated spot. Shannon and I spent the next two days running around a city I didn't know--taking buses, talking with locals, trying new food. Even though Shannon had been in Thailand for the last 3 months, we were both new to the city and enjoyed figuring out the city together.
The significant thing to me is not that I'm in Thailand, but that I'm in Thailand and NOT paniced. Compared to India THIS IS EASY!! I'm rubbing elbows with Swedes, Auzzies, Dutch, Irish, and even some Americans. After Shannon left for home, I decided to travel for a couple of days with an Irish couple, Dave and Nicole. Even then I didn't feel like I was being chauffeured around--I felt like a contributing member tin getting us around.
The second thing, I have returned to the question "Why do I travel?" Why does anyone travel for that matter. I've run into several people who are on long term trips around the world. For those I run into here it's a given--no one asks you've spent (or is it wasted) all this money to come to another part of the world. But talking with Becky online about how her husband would prefer a bigger TV than travel made me suspect that we're maybe I'm more rare than I think.
I've been jovially (and to their credit, tactfully) hit on by some fat 40 year old Italian men in Phuket spending their vacation time at a beach front hotel looking to get laid. I've talked with those who came with the sole purpose of to scuba diving off the great beaches here in Koh Tao or rock climbing at the famous Railay Island. I've seen those who carry around huge cameras with and take photo after photo of the beautiful scenery. I've even run into the men with young Thai girls at their side (and in one case Thai boy) who may be here to take advantage of the sex tourism available in Thailand--the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I don't really relate to them. The closest I relate is to those who are traveling all around the world--in hopes of seeing it all, experiencing it all. They push themselves to try the food, learn some of the culture, and enjoy what the place has to offer.
I must admit that after doing India it has been hard to really enjoy touristy Thailand. I used to cringe when I heard some field studies participants say vehemently that they HATE being a tourist. I cringed because it's hard not to be a tourist when you are visiting a place you've never been. By definition you are "touring." In order to see Ko Phi Phi in one day we did a tour package--in involved being shuttled around in a speedboat with 20 other tourists to some of the main beaches, then to lunch, snorkeling, and then shuttled back to our hotel. I enjoyed seeing the beautiful place, but hated the constant pleas from the guide to "SIT DOWN," the semi decent sea food lunch, and the scheduled "be back at boat 5 by2:45." While I wasn't capable of chartering my own boat around this beautiful island. I did feel a difference from owning my experiences in India to being shuttled around in this paradise. I guess I don't feel great about being a tourist, but sometimes there's nothing you can do to escape it. I guess.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Hi my name is Liann and I am addicted to shoes
I have bought six pairs of shoes while in India. Six pairs! Two pairs while in Coimbatore that are safely stored at Matthew and Jeeva's home, one pair while in Delhi, and three pairs while here in Amritsar. All while I'm trying to live a life of simplicity--one backpack and few belongings. I find that I am obsessed.
But please let me explain. There just comes a time when you spy that pair of shoes and think to yourself "I wonder if those would look that fantastic on my feet as they do nailed to that wall," you point and say your size, the man brings them to you and helps you slip your feet in into the pair, you take a few ginger steps around the store and then to the mirror (if they have one). Then the moment of realization hits you, the realization that you cannot leave the store without that pair of shoes. Nevermind that you have at least 20 to 25 pairs of shoes sitting in a box in your parents' attic while you traspe about India in your beloved Chacos, these shoes have just crossed that line from a want to a need.
You bargain as much as you can trying to hide the fact that you will pay whatever you have to in order to walk out that door with your new found lovers. Yes lovers. You pay the pittance you must to release them bondage and take home them home to start a love affair that will last as long as the style doesn't shift. Amazing. I sometimes amaze (and disgust) even myself. The funny thing is I can't wear half the shoes I bought because they are either too sexy, too clean and white, or too impractical for walking around in this country. So I'll have to wait another 3 months (at least) just dreaming up the outfits to go along with these cute little shoes.
Bumming it with the Buddhists in Bodhgaya
I've had some real beautiful experiences in Bodhgaya, the city where Buddha recieved enlightenment. The town is small and full of monestaries and temples built by Buddhist countries. Bodhgaya was my favorite stop on my last tour of India. Unfortunantly it was overrun with loud and obnoxious Hindu pilgrims dressed in orange. So I missed the quiet of the place. But I still had a few great experiences I wanted to share--
Sitting under the Bodhi Tree where Buddha recieved enlightenment talking quietly with a monk from Cambodia. He's studying world religions at a university in India and his mother who provides for his schooling has come from Canada to travel to these sacred spaces in India. She was dressed in white and he in deep gold robes, both had the shaved heads, and were chatting congenially before we approached him. He told me about what prayers he repeats while fingering his 108 prayer beads. He also talked about why he wanted to become a monk at the age of 13. He was aware of suffering and wanted to escape (or was it learn to deal with) that suffering. I don't know what his life was like in Cambodia, but at 13 I think I was concerned with my own ugliness and awkwardness and not the suffering in the world. The conversation was beautiful and insightful.
One afternoon I sat at the temple and contemplated life as I listened to the breeze in the tree. It was a windy day and I decided I wouldn't leave until I had a Bodhi leaf to glue into my journal, a piece of this peaceful place. I sat and waited and watched as a few precious leaves fell, but people would scury and pick them up. I didn't want to get my leaf that way--I may get my train tickets by elbowing my way in line, but not this. I wanted getting my leaf to be a good memory. After some time I decided that maybe it was time for me to seek after my leaf rather than wait for it to come to me. I walked in the yard behind the tree. I picked up one leaf, but found it was quite dirty, maybe this wasn't the leaf. I kept walking and a small leaf blew towards my feet. I picked it up. I was beautiful--small, light green, with some speckles. I loved it and I loved that it came to me in such a way. I think that's what I love about India--it teaches me to love and appreciate the small things. Enjoy the process not just the outcome.
My last night in Bodhgaya I went back to hang out at the temple. I watched a woman dressed in white water the tree with her water bottle--it was a bit of a process to get the bottle through the bars. She then sat down and started chanting prayers from a book. Her voice was melodic and beautifully solemn as it quietly piered the night. The first morning I walked into the temple a butterfly happened across my path and stayed to flirt a little with me. I thought to myself, "Enchanting. This place is enchanting." And as I walked back up the steps to leave the temple that last night I felt that again. Enchanting. Simply enchanting.
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