Tag Archives: Buddhism

Jan11

Lumbini: The Birthplace of the Buddha

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As the birthplace of the Buddha, Nepal is a popular pilgrimage destination for spiritual seekers all over the world. And as an experimental Buddhist, I knew I had to make the trip as well.

Lumbini, the town where the Buddha was born in 623 B.C., is located near the Indian border, and Naren and I planned it as our final destination before returning to India.

As a town, the Buddha complex is Lumbini’s main event, and the city doesn’t really require more than a day’s visit to experience, unless you plan on staying a few days to soak up the spiritual energy.

The complex is broken into several parts and must be entered and exited through specific locations. To start, visitors begin at International Monastic Zone, a growing collection of Buddhist temples from Buddhist communities around the world, meant to promote world peace.

The development zone is split down the middle with temples from the Theravada tradition on the east side and temples from the Mahayana tradition on the west side. The walk through is lovely, with the two sides separated by narrow roads, a long pool of landscaped water and trees dotted with Buddhist sayings. It’s also a great way to experience Buddhist traditions from different parts of the world.

At the end of the International Monastic Zone, you approach the Sacred Garden where the birth took place. The garden includes the Mayadevi temple, which surrounds an underground excavation that holds a rock that marks the spot where the Buddha was born (unfortunately, no photos were allowed on the inside). The garden also includes the Sacred Pool where Buddha’s mother is said to have bathed before giving birth, as well as the Ashokan Pillar, an ancient pillar identifying the spot as the birthplace.

A visit to the complex is a real treasure, and even if you are not into Buddhism or spirituality, you’ll walk away happy and calm. It’s just that kind of place.

Below are some photos of birthplace of the Buddha.

The eternal flame symbolizes world peace and sits in front of a landscaped pool that separates the Theravada and Mahayana Buddhist traditions in the International Monastic Zone.

The eternal flame symbolizes world peace and sits in front of a landscaped pool that separates the Theravada and Mahayana Buddhist traditions in the International Monastic Zone.

Buddhist Sayings 1

Thai Temple in the International Monastic Zone

Thai Temple in the International Monastic Zone

Korean Temple in the International Monastic Zone

Korean Temple in the International Monastic Zone

Buddhist Sayings 2

Lumbini Road 2

Mayadevi Temple that houses that rock that marks the spot of the birth

Mayadevi Temple that houses that rock that marks the spot of the birth

Sunset

Buddhist Sayings 3

Prayer Flags

Prayer Flags

The pool where Buddha's mother is said to have bathed before giving birth

The pool where Buddha’s mother is said to have bathed before giving birth

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Jun12

Nepal

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“Wait, so what are you going to do in Nepal then?”

This would be the standard response I received from fellow travelers upon hearing that I was going to Nepal and *gasp!* would not be trekking through the Himalayas.

As stated before (and I’m sure numerous times throughout my blog), I have a strict anti-trekking policy. No seriously, I hate trekking. Yes, I appreciate nice views and flowers and all that, but spending hours (and days!) climbing uphill through the heat (often), bugs and trees is just not my cup of tea. Trust me, I’ve tried enough times.

Well, I’m proud to say I spent more than two weeks traveling throughout Nepal and successfully managed to entertain myself with a range of non-trekking activities.

Nepal was a relatively short trip compared with the amount of time I spent in other countries, but during that time my friend Naren and I had a lovely time wandering through the temples of Kathmandu, spotting rhinos in Chitwan National Park, chilling out in Pokhara and visiting the birthplace of Buddha (yeah, Trekkers, that is a pretty significant non-trekking component of Nepal ;)).

And, of course, there were the particularly fun moments, like flying over Mount Everest, jumping off Asia’s highest bungy jump, eating endless momos or shopping constantly for hippie clothes and Tibetan jewelry.

I really loved Nepal. When I first set foot in Kathmandu, a crowded city full of colorful shops, busy streets and beautiful temples, I was instantly reminded of everything I loved about India, plus, with only a fraction of the aggressiveness.

Nepal, of course, had other differences. The country’s unique blend of both Hinduism and Buddhism provides a fascinating array of temples, structures and beliefs that often blur the lines between the two. The Swayambhunath “Monkey Temple,” for example, is a unique Buddhist and Hindu complex that contains representations of both religions throughout.

On one occasion, Naren and I were privileged to have glimpsed at the eight-year-old face of Kathmandu’s current Kumari, a young girl believed to be a living goddess princess. She spends her days living in a large palace in the city, making daily appearances at her window (no photos allowed) and being paraded around town during important religious events. When she gets her period, she no longer gets to be goddess and a new Kumari is found.

Nepal also had incredible food, a mix of both Indian-influenced curries and rice, mixed with Tibetan-style “momo” dumplings, which were the best I found ANYWHERE in Asia.

Here’s a collection of my best photos from Nepal.

Flying over the Himalayas on the way to Nepal, that's Mount Everest on the left!

Flying over the Himalayas on the way to Nepal, that’s Mount Everest on the left!

Kathmandu

Kathmandu

A beautiful view near the water in Pokhara

A beautiful view near the water in Pokhara

A Nepali woman sits outside the Jangchub Choeling Monastery in Pokhara.

A Nepali woman sits outside the Jangchub Choeling Monastery in Pokhara.

Enjoying a beautiful day in Pokhara with Naren and our new monk friend, Tenzin.

Enjoying a beautiful day in Pokhara with Naren and our new monk friend, Tenzin.

Chilling near the water in Pokhara

Chilling near the water in Pokhara

Swayambhunath, a unique temple complex that blends both Buddhism and Hinduism

Swayambhunath, a unique temple complex that blends both Buddhism and Hinduism

Kathmandu

Kathmandu

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May28

Almost Tibet

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Almost Tibet

Tagong 1

As I prepared for the last leg of my trip through China and India, I came up with a plan that would enable me to travel throughout China and reach my final destination in northern India, without having to fly.

After traveling counterclockwise around China, I would continue west through Tibet then south to Nepal before reaching Rishikesh in northern India where my yoga course awaited me. Not only would I get through China and India, but I would add two entirely new and exotic places to my trip, all for what I estimated to be the same, if not cheaper, cost of flying. Brilliant!

Nepal had grown as a leading destination of interest after hearing universally rave reviews from fellow travelers. But Tibet, China’s isolated and controversial land in the west, had also risen to prominence after the sheer amount of excitement and curiosity I found in other travelers who also discussed the journey. Tibet, however, like Myanmar, also brought a whole new level of travel concerns.

An ancient land that had undergone centuries of various autonomous and non-autonomous rule, Tibet declared its independence in 1912 after the fall of the Chinese Qing dynasty. In the 1950s, Communist China invaded Tibet in an attempt to reclaim control of the land. Technically, the Dalai Lama, leader of the Tibetan Buddhism and the former political leader of the Tibetan government in exile in Dharamsala, India, supports a “middle-way” approach of Tibet being a part of China with a high degree of autonomy, but the issue remains controversial. The Chinese say they are developing the isolated land and saving its people from an oppressive feudal system, while those in support of a free Tibet accuse the Chinese of violating human rights, destroying Tibetan culture and forcing Tibetans to assimilate to the Chinese way of life. The conflict has led to numerous protests both inside and outside of Tibet and restricted access to the land by outsiders, despite growing interest by tourists.

Of course, a mere few weeks before my estimated departure, my brilliant plans were shattered. Protests in Tibet, including several monks setting themselves on fire, caused the Chinese to tighten travel restrictions, eventually prohibiting all tourists from entering the region altogether.

Anyone planning to travel to Tibet knows the borders open and close on regular, and often unpredictable, basis. But as I waited around Chengdu, hoping for a last-minute change, I found myself defeated. Tibet was not going to happen. Not this time.

But I still had more than a week left on my Chinese visa, and I was determined to make the most of it. After discussing alternatives with some fellow travelers, I heard about a small, mostly Tibetan village in Western China called Tagong. Located about 270 miles west of Chengdu, one of China’s last major cities before reaching Tibet, Tagong is a tiny village full of mostly Tibetan inhabitants that would offer a glimpse into the isolated lifestyle that was proving so difficult to experience.

After weeks of massive, crowded Chinese mega-cities, I was ready for a change. So I packed up my bags, bought a bus ticket and headed off.

The first step to reaching Tagong was Kangding, a Chinese city up in the mountains that serves as a jumping off point for many who plan to continue traveling west. The eight-hour bus ride to reach Kangding from Leshan/Chengdu is stunning, albeit, a bit scary at times. Rocky cliffs covered with dense green trees and shrubs surrounded us, topped with hovering mists that let us know we were high enough to enter cloud territory.

Kangding

Kangding

When we finally reached Kangding, I was pleasantly surprised to find the city quite charming. Tall green mountains surrounded the neat city streets, full of a combination of Chinese and Tibetan shops. But Kangding offered another surprise for me: it was cold.

I know I’m from Michigan, land of seemingly eternal winters, but I was not prepared for this. After nearly two years of hot weather, including 14 months in Malaysia which is practically located on the equator, this was quite a shock for me. To top it off, it was raining and nothing is as much fun as being cold except for being wet and cold.

So I put on my jeans, my sole long-sleeved shirt, my broken-zippered hoodie and each of the three pairs of almost-never-used socks I brought and hoped they’d be enough. And I set out to find a ride to Tagong.

Luckily I had made a travel buddy in the process. Daniel was from Germany, and after already having spent several days in Kangding, was ready to head to Tagong. So we hailed a share taxi and found ourselves crammed in the backseat of a minibus with two older Tibetan ladies and a Tibetan man. And it was one of the coldest, most dramatic bus rides I had ever been on.

Apparently old Tibetan ladies don’t get out much, at least not in cars, because these women were extremely prone to motion sickness. At an hour and a half, the ride wasn’t really that long, and though we were up in the mountains, it wasn’t that winding either. But for some reason these women insisted on keeping the windows down in the car, despite the fact it was about 40 degrees outside and raining. Daniel was kind enough to share his blanket with me, but even that wasn’t enough and we remained shivering in the back seat. And though we repeatedly asked the driver to talk to the ladies about closing the windows, they were apparently very adamant about not doing so, at one point even opening the windows all the way so it was a complete wind ambush in the back. Meanwhile, the ladies, with their rosy cheeks, braided hair and colorful Tibetan clothing, lay prostrate on the middle seat, like some Victorian English woman in the midst of a fainting spell. If I wasn’t so cold, I would have been very amused.

Once we arrived in Tagong, I was surprised and charmed at how quaint the town was. With a population of only 8,000 people, it was definitely the least populated city I had visited in China, and with an altitude of more than 12,000 feet, it was also the highest point I’d ever reached on land in my entire life.

Main street Tagong

Main street Tagong

Daniel and I opted to stay at Iya Drolma and Gayla’s Guesthouse, a cheap yet delightfully colorful and charming place listed in our guidebook. The only problem was, despite the high altitude and cold temperatures, there was no heat in our building. In fact, there was no heat in any of the buildings.

Trying to warm up at my guest house

Trying to warm up at my guest house


After settling in and enjoying a delightful warm foot bath, Daniel and I set out to eat and soon discovered the Khampa Café and Art Center, a cozy backpacker haven nearby that would become our second home during the next few days. Full of comfy couches, puzzles, books and a delightful combination of Western and Tibetan food, Khampa Café was the place to go to kill time between adventures or just relax and adjust to the altitude. After months of traveling, I was quite happy to bum around and do nothing for awhile.

I’m not going to lie, a significant chunk of my five days in Tagong were spent curled up in a blanket, chatting with other travelers, playing with the kittens, reading about Nepal and just hanging out at the café. And it was delightful.

But so was the town itself. Only a few blocks long, the town contained a few small restaurants, some generic clothing and hardware stores and several, redundant Tibetan scarf and jewelry shops geared at tourists. With my mad traveler shopping skills, I browsed several of the souvenir stores looking for the best deals for gifts to take home. I finally settled on a small shop owned by a young, friendly Tibetan man who, with his limited English, had given me the best prices. I happily purchased three scarves and five bracelets. It wasn’t until he had finished ringing up my scarves that he asked me to sleep with him, making very clear hand gestures of what he hoped would happen. Needless to say, I quickly left the store. And then found out I’d paid about four times what the scarves were worth. Awesome.

The real charm to Tagong, however, was not its town or necessarily even its monasteries: it was its grasslands. I had never seen anything like it before. Surrounding this tiny village on all sides were seemingly endless miles of rich, hilly green land with barely a handful of trees to break up the sea of grass. Every now and then a herd of yaks would graze, prodded along by a couple Tibetan men on horses. It was stunning.

Tagong Grasslands

Tagong Grasslands

I figured the best way to experience the land was on horseback and signed up for a day-long horseback ride with two other girls. Unfortunately, it had decided to rain the day of the trip, and I found myself, once again, piling on every layer of clothing I had to stay warm. The morning was brutal. My gloves, feet and most of my pants were soaked within the first 30 minutes, and I had no idea how I would last the day. The best part came around noon, when we got to have lunch in the tent of a Tibetan nomadic family.

As we entered the tent, the girls and I were quickly welcomed by the older Tibetan lady, her daughter and her young grandson and we crowded around the fire to warm up. Like many Tibetan people, the family were yak herders and moved their tent around the grasslands to coincide with the care of their yaks.

Life was simple. A kettle heated up over a small fire, while piles of blankets, clothing, buckets and food supplies were strewn around the surrounding grass. Though we could not verbally communicate with each other, the family was extremely hospitable. We enjoyed a basic lunch of Tibetan staples: bread, yogurt and raisins, Tibetan butter tea and tsampa, a not-so-flavorful soup of barley, yak butter and boiling water. Not so different than tsampa, Tibetan butter tea is a savory tea made of yak butter melted into a pot of tea and yak milk. While many Westerners don’t care for the taste, I thought it tasted like liquid brie, and I loved it. Apparently the heavy, salty tea and soup provide great nutrients for life in the cold, windy temperatures of the high altitude, and I’ve read that Tibetans can consume up to 40 cups of yak butter tea a day!

Our hosts

Our hosts

As we left the warm comfort of the nomad tent, we were rudely jolted back to our earlier mission of exploring the grasslands. It was even colder now and the rain had picked up, and we still had six hours to go! With our feet numb, clothing soaked and eyes half shut against the rain, we asked our guide if we could just head back. It was far too miserable to enjoy the grasslands. But we had gone too far and the only way back was to follow the original plan, so on we rode trying our best to remind ourselves we were on the adventure of a lifetime.

Thankfully for us, the weather gods showed us some mercy around mid-afternoon. Though it never got warm, the rain stopped, the sun came out and we found ourselves surrounded by nothing but sprawling green hills and grasslands. At that point, I think we were all glad to have stuck around.

But my happiness was short-lived. Apparently, the nice weather had energized my horse as well, who then decided to go for a vigorous run by himself. Now, I enjoy horses and prior to China, I had ridden them several times throughout my life, though rarely going more than a short trot or canter. While my heart raced with excitement to test my horsewoman skills, this horse had a mind of its own. My attempts to lean back on the reigned paired with “whoa” (I knew nothing else to say) only caused the horse to pause before taking off again even faster. When we approached a rocky area, I was reminded of Asia’s relaxed helmet policy and started to scream.

Our guide was not happy about this. Though he could barely speak English, I quickly understood that I was not supposed to scream at the horses. So things calmed down and we tried again. Sure enough, a few minutes later my horse decided, yet again, he needed to go for a run, and I found myself once more clinging on for dear life and screaming.

Me and my misbehaving horse

Me and my misbehaving horse

Now my guide was angry, but so was I, and I managed to communicate to him that he needed to get this situation under control. Luckily, we had come across one of his buddies who was herding yaks, and I found myself on a horse “leash,” with the yak herder holding on to my reins in addition to his. This ended up being amazingly fun.

Though my wings were clipped, I got to trot along with the yak herder as he did his job. When a few of the yaks strayed, I chased after them with the yak herder to get them back with the group. When they got distracted or slowed down, I found myself whistling along with my new guide to get their attention. While I was merely the tag-along, I felt like I, too, was herding yaks. And it was super bad ass.

By the time we made it back we were cold and exhausted yet exhilarated by the amazing adventure we’d had. I ended up paying for that adventure with a nasty cold over the next few days. But as I headed to the Chengdu airport – indeed, to fly to Nepal – I was grateful that, after weeks of experiencing the “mainstream” Chinese mega cities, I had found a little patch of rural China and experienced a little bit of Tibetan culture. Even if it was, only, almost Tibet.

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Oct29

The Big Ka-Buddha!

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Giant Buddha

A few years ago I was sitting at a café, when I randomly spotted an image of an enormous Buddha in a travel magazine. I had never seen an image like this before, and I was immediately intrigued. I knew one day I had to see this thing.

I remember glancing at the fine print and reading the Buddha was located in China, but I had never heard of the city before and soon forgot the name. Years later, when I was finally making plans to go to China, I knew I had to find this place. Lucky for me, Leshan, home of officially the world’s largest Buddha, was not too hard to find, and in fact was an easy day trip from Chengdu in Sichuan.

Carved into a cliff face, the Buddha is 233 feet tall, with shoulders 92 feet wide, and toes that are nearly 30 feet long, each! It was constructed between 713-803AD under the instruction of a monk who thought the Buddha’s presence would calm the tempestuous rivers that plagued the shipping vessels that went by. Interestingly enough, the sheer amount of rock that went into the water as a result of the sculpture altered the currents and indeed had a calming effect on the river.

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My trip to the Buddha was lovely, though not quite what I expected. What I didn’t realize was that the giant Buddha is part of an entire Buddhist complex, complete with numerous temples and parks to walk around. What I also didn’t realize is the main part of the complex is level with the Buddha’s enormous head, providing an interesting and relatively close perspective to see just how huge his features are, as well as a bit of a surprise when you enter the grounds. But to see the big picture, you have to line up with the seemingly millions of Chinese people to make the long, slow, crowded descent to the bottom. Luckily, there are enough viewing spots along the way to allow you a good long view of this wonder, which really is pretty amazing. Once at the bottom, you can linger a little (not too long) to take even more photos, before exiting and making the long ascent back to the top.

As a city, Leshan was pleasant enough, but the sweltering temperatures made daytime wandering highly undesirable. I only expected to spend one day there, but since the lone daily bus to reach my next destination in Kanding was booked, I had to spend an extra day. So what to do? See the Buddha again, of course, this time from water :). In addition to (or instead of) battling the crowds on the temple grounds, you can take a pleasant 30-minute boat ride along the side of the cliff instead. Though you don’t get nearly as close to the sculpture or spend as much time viewing it as if you were on the grounds, the boat ride is really relaxing and provides a bigger, more-distant perspective and enables you to see the two flanking sculptures that aren’t visible on land.

Below is a short video of this amazing and striking sculpture and definitely one of the coolest Buddha’s I’ve ever seen.

Jul1

Off the Beaten Track

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Off the Beaten Track

I had barely awoken from a nap when two energetic young adults jumped into my carriage and asked if they could practice English with me.

In my groggy state, my immediate reaction was to avoid aggressive, young Asians, who usually had an ulterior motive or sale up their sleeves. But then I remembered I was in Myanmar, a gentle country, largely isolated from much of the world, and relaxed.

“Ok,” I replied.

I looked around and realized, despite having already traveled six and a half hours by train from Pyin U Lwin, we were only in Kyaukme, a small town still 20 miles away from Hsipaw, my final destination. I recognized the town from my guidebook, an alternative jumping off point to go trekking in the Shan state, which it had described as “far off the beaten track.” While this had initially interested me, the nice lady at the travel agency in Mandalay had quickly dismissed the idea, saying there was nothing to do at Kyaukme, and Hsipaw was the far better option.

To be fair, I had never really wanted to go trekking to begin with. But I had three days to kill before meeting up with my friends in Mandalay, and after months of playing it safe, I thought it might be a good idea to push my travel limits a little bit and try a destination less well-known.

As I began to chat, I remembered to speak slowly as we covered the basics: Where are you from? What is your name? What do you do?

The two, a 20-year-old boy and a 19-year-old girl, were students at one of the town’s English schools. Every night, they joined a handful of others in the small schoolhouse to learn English with one of the town’s few English speakers, other locals like themselves who’d taken great pains to learn English on their own. Not native English speakers themselves, the teachers encouraged the students to talk with Western visitors during the 30-minute train stop on the way to Hsipaw.

As the conversation continued, another teenager joined our group, and I immediately noticed his English was much more advanced than his peers. John was a university student studying English who worked part time as a tour and trekking guide to the few tourists who make it to Kyaukme. From the off-handedness of the information, I knew he wasn’t trying to sell me anything, yet there was something about him and this small town that interested me more. Small, soft-spoken with carefully-placed “messy” black hair, John looked younger than his 19 years. But his direct, yet polite, demeanor revealed a young man with big plans for himself. I pulled out my guidebook as we continued to chat, searching again for why I had planned on going to Hsipaw. Markets, temples, hills, Hsipaw had lots of attractions listed, while Kyaukme literally had none. I sighed. I liked these guys, but I was going to have to give Kyaukme a miss.

But as I heard the train horn sound to leave, something inside me changed. Before I realized what I was doing, I heard myself say, “Ok, I’ll stay!” and the boys quickly helped me grab my backpacks, as we scrambled off the train.

No guidebook, no fellow travelers, no recommendations, I had no idea what I was getting in to. But I was ready for adventure.

A small village in the eastern part of central Myanmar, Kyaukme has only one guest house licensed to host tourists, and John offered to drive me the short distance on his motorbike. As we rounded the corner to the guest house entrance, he pointed to the young man across the street chatting with an older white couple and told me that was his English teacher, Joy.

With only a few English schools in town, none with native speakers, Joy asked if I would mind dropping in to class to speak directly with the students, and I was happy to oblige.

Later that night I found myself at the “Best Friend English School,” a small classroom in a building in town. As John and I walked in, I realized I was interrupting a lesson on articles of clothing. About 10 students sat in long, rectangular tables facing their teacher who pointed to a pair of pants and a belt buckle drawn on the chalk board.

But despite his own lesson, the teacher warmly welcomed me to the class and immediately pushed me to the front to speak to the students directly.

As I stood in front of them, a bit nervous at first, I was greeted by a sea of smiling faces and a cup of tea. A fairly even mix of men and women stared back at me, all ranging from older teenagers and college students to young adults with established jobs or families.

I really had no idea what I was doing, so I decided to start slowly and see where things went. After a short introduction, the girls especially, seemed very interested in knowing about my life, and I found myself answering questions about my age, what I did, my marital status and what I thought of Myanmar. At some point, I found myself drawing a mitten on the chalkboard surrounded by some half-haphazard wavy lines as I pointed to my hometown(s) and explained Michigan’s shape, lakes, industries and surrounding states.

Kyaukme English School

Me with the students at “Best Friend English School” in Kyaukme, Myanmar

My second visit to the English school took me a little by surprise. Instead of a Michigan geography lesson, this time the teacher asked if I would teach the students a song. Luckily for them, I’m a bit of a diva ;).

Perhaps I was a little homesick, or maybe I just thought a sweet tune with simple, happy lyrics would be a great tool for teaching English, but the next thing I know I’m belting out “My Girl” by the Temptations and pointing to the words I’d scribbled on the board. To my delight, the students really seemed to enjoy themselves, and I got them to do a pretty good rendition of it, if I say so myself. It made me really happy to be able to share a little bit of my home state with them, even if it was in the form of a Motown song that came out 20 years before I was born :P.

Though I enjoyed teaching at the school, I had other ideas on how to spend my time in Kyaukme. As part of the volatile Shan state, the town is only a few hours away from some of Myanmar’s ethnic fighting between the Burmese state and the Shan people, fighting for greater autonomy.

While I was not interested in getting too close to the fighting, I was curious to explore one of Myanmar’s ethnic minorities and see how an entirely different group of people live among a controversial and repressive military regime.

To my delight, John was free to take me to the Shan mountain villages, and since he had his motorbike, I did not have to go trekking after all. It was perfect!

The next day, as promised, John met me bright and early for our journey to the Shan villages. Our plan was to visit three villages that day, sleep over in the last town and return to Kyaukme the next morning.

Helmets on, backpacks attached, we rode through the mountains past endless green rice paddies, grazing water buffalo and children playing in the fields. Surprisingly, we did not pass many other travelers on our two-hour long journey, though the all-encompassing dust resulting from the villagers’ annual burning season let us know that we were far from isolated.

Shan Mountains

Reaching our first destination, I discovered a scene that would repeat itself throughout the subsequent Shan villages. All around, wooden houses with corrugated tin roofs dotting along the windy, dirt road that looped its way through town. Tea leaves lay on mats outside, drying in the sun, as John explained that nearly every villager was a tea farmer. While largely quiet, men worked outside, chopping up bamboo stalks for building or weaving, while women took care of the housework, washing clothes, weaving fabric or preparing food. Nearby up the hill, children gathered in the village’s lone school house, repeating the chanting of the monks to learn their native Shan language.

In the middle of town, a small shop sold snacks, drinks and basic necessities, where adults and children alike gathered to pick up supplies, have a drink or simply to visit. And resting quietly at the top of every village lay a gold-covered pagoda, the town’s center for worship and most sacred point.

Kyaukme Pagoda, Myanmar

On my trip, John took me to visit several families he knew. While communication was limited, these people graciously invited me into their homes, offering me tea and sunflower seeds while I explored their houses. Surprisingly large, the wooden Shan houses were often two stories high, comprising of a main room, kitchen and one or two bedrooms containing basic beds or lots of open space for bamboo mats and blankets. Plastic or wooden chairs and tables filled corners, while photos of family members and children fulfilling their traditional monk duties dotted the walls. And in every home, a large cabinet full of Buddhas, flowers, incense and photos served as the family shrine. Out back, basic, outdoor faucets on concrete floors provided running water with wooden outhouses nearby.

Shan House

Inside a Shan House outside in the mountain villages outside Kyaukme, Myanmar

When we reached our final destination, John took me to the home of the village chief who often provided accommodation to the village’s visitors. While he was out of town, his wife made us a simple dinner of rice, eggs, peanuts and a watery vegetable soup. As the power was often out, sunset covered the town in a silent, all-encompassing blackness where even the stars’ vivid brilliance was not enough to keep the town awake.

Around 9:30 p.m. John and I headed up to the second floor to find our pillows, blankets and bamboo mats laid out among those of the female farm hands who come to the village seasonally to pick tea leaves. Despite the early hour, I fell asleep quickly in a surprisingly restful night sleep. Around 5:30 a.m. in a stereotypical rude awakening, the roosters began to crow to signal the start of a new day. While John wasn’t too keen on the early rise, I enjoyed watching the women prepare for their day, saying their morning prayers, combing their hair and carefully applying the bark-based thanaka paste to their faces to protect their skin from the Myanmar sun.

After breakfast, a large spread of noodles, peanuts and eggs, John and I said our goodbyes and began our descent back to Kyaukme.

While I never did make it to Hsipaw, my last-minute journey to Kyaukme ended up being one of the best travel decisions I’ve ever made and a true adventure off the beaten track.

Though I know much of the rest of my travels will include the well-paved and well-shared roads to monuments, big cities and tacky souvenirs, I will be forever grateful knowing there is at least one memory that is all mine.

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Feb22

The Dalai Lama Experience

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Despite the awe-inspiring beauty that is McLeod Ganj, India, arguably the main draw to the small Dharamsala suburb is to see the Dalai Lama.

Meaning “guru” or, literally, “ocean teacher,” the Dalai Lama is the current head of Tibetan Buddhism as well as the former leader of the Central Tibetan Administration, the Tibetan government in exile, which India has allowed to govern Tibetan refugees from its part of the Himalayas.

While I had never really had a strong desire to see the Dalai Lama before, spending a week learning about Tibetan Buddhism while residing less than two miles from the place where he lives, seeing him in person became a priority.

But despite being so close to the source, seeing the Dalai Lama in person is no easy matter.

To start with, the Dalai Lama does not make frequent public appearances, but usually speaks only when sponsored and is often abroad.

So we were lucky that, just two days after the meditation course was finishing, an organization from Korea had arranged a three-day lecture series. With all our new-found Buddhism wisdom, of course we had to stay!

But as I said before, seeing the head of Tibetan Buddhism is not easy.

First, you must register in advance at the Tibetan Branch Security Office in McLeod Ganj, where, after providing your passport and visa information and two passport photos, you are given a little ID card to bring with you throughout the lectures.

Next, for all the non-Tibetan speakers, you must acquire a radio and headset to tune into the broadcast translation of the Dalai Lama’s speech in your native language. For a more comfortable rump, you may also opt to buy a cheap throw cushion to use as a seat for the duration of the speech.

And finally, to secure a spot, you may arrive at the temple the day before (careful not to arrive too early or too late) and place a blanket or scarf on your selected spot, preferably with your name written down and attached.

If this sounds confusing, let me break it down. To try to organize the mass crowds that inevitably come to hear the Dalai Lama speak, organizers section off portions of the temple by language, making it easier for people of the same tongue to access their designated radio station. About the day before the lectures begin, organizers cover the areas with mats, making seating more comfortable for viewers. However, rules say you are not allowed to tape, stick or otherwise attach anything (such as place markers) to temple property. To get around this, people tape their names to personal property, such as blankets and scarves, and leave these items lying on their chosen mat space. I don’t know who came up with this idea or how the organizers feel about it, but somehow there seems to be an unspoken rule that you don’t mess with other people’s stuff.

In our case, since we had no extra blankets or towels, we left clothes. Or, rather, my friends left clothes, and I wrote my name with theirs. Yes, in honor of seeing the probably-enlightened, current father of one of the oldest religions in history, I attached my name to a pair of pants.

Marking our place to see the Dalai Lama

The next morning, radio in one hand, cushion in the other, all potential explosives removed from my purse, I was ready to go.

Joining the masses heading toward Gangchen Kyishong, the Dalai Lama’s residence and government area, our little group passed through security and were relieved to find that our little pants-marker, though no longer alone, was undisturbed. As we sat down, squished between Spanish and other English speakers, we did our best to attain some line of sight to the procession area ahead or at least to one of the screens nearby.

And then, it was time to start. Despite our carefully-selected, pants-designated location, the Dalai Lama procession entered through the opposite side of the temple than the side we were at, and I only managed a glimpse of the crowd around him before he entered inside.

As I tried to tune into the English station, I learned that $3 radios bought on the street work just about as well as $3 radios can be expected to work. After playing around with the tuning buttons, catching bits of sound here and there, we learned how the system works.

First, the Dalai Lama speaks undisturbed for a few minutes. Then the translators speak and you fight with your radio to catch on to what the Dalai Lama just said.

Though not ideal, I did manage to catch most of what was going on. To my sort of surprise, however, everything the Dalai Lama was saying was a repeat of what I’d just spent over a week learning about at the Tushita Meditation Centre. Apparently the Dalai Lama speaks according to the request of the sponsors, and our sponsors were Buddhist newbies.

I’m not sure what I had expected, perhaps something more profound or enlightening, but I realized, more than the lecture, I was there to see the Dalai Lama himself, in person.

And after his two-hour lecture, I finally got my chance.

Covered in his standard maroon and yellow robe, encircled by an entourage of supporters and protectors, the Dalai Lama made his way through our side of the temple. Despite the vast amount of people pushing to reach him, the Dalai Lama simply smiled, trying to shake hands and bless as many people as he could.

As I was a good 10 feet away from the edge, I knew there was no one way I would be on the receiving end of any handshake or blessing, but I was hoping for a smile.

More than a week of intensive preparation, hours of silent study and meditation, numerous internal debates on whether or not I could become a Buddhist had all led up to this moment. How would it feel to look into the eyes of the Dalai Lama?

And then…nothing. The Dalai Lama turned his gaze to the forthcoming stairs and continued on for our scheduled lunch break.

No handshake, no blessing, no smile, no eye contact. And honestly, no real spiritual stir on the inside either.

But truth be told, I was ok with this. I was, after all, only a novice “Buddhist” at this point, and my history and skepticism were not exactly conducive to having impromptu spiritual explosions. It was, however, fascinating to watch hundreds of followers from nations all over the world gather to hear words of wisdom from a beloved leader.

But as much as I admire hundreds of people coming together for positive reasons, I don’t always appreciate those people coming together around me. After a morning of scrunching in the cold, squeezing through crowds and fighting with my radio to hear mostly a repetition of what I’d been taught the week before, I decided I had had enough of the Dalai Lama Experience. With his lectures available online, in the comfort, space and warmth of your own home, I figured I could listen to them in private later. My main goal was to see the Dalai Lama in person and that mission had been accomplished.

While I will not list seeing the Dalai Lama in person as a life-changing experience, it was a fascinating one. In a world that appears to become increasingly more secular, it was incredible to see the effect a spiritual leader can have on people from all over the globe, especially on people who would have had little exposure to that religion in their native countries.

Maybe the world isn’t becoming so secular after all.

I wasn’t able to photograph the Dalai Lama, but here are some images of McLeod Ganj. I hope you enjoy.

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Feb17

Buddhist Beginnings

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When I started my India trip, my plan was to travel for the first few months then settle down in an ashram in the end to focus on yoga and meditation and, hopefully, learn more about Hinduism.

As I mentioned in my Mehandipur post, I have always had a fascination with religion, psychology and philosophy. I enjoy learning about different belief systems, their history and what motivates people to behave in ways that they do. Hinduism, in particular, has become religious fascination number one since I arrived in Asia, and I was dying for a chance to learn more about the Hindu gods, karma and all their rituals.

So when I heard about the eight-day “Introduction to Buddhism” meditation course being offered at the Tushita Meditation Centre in McLeod Ganj, I had mixed feelings. As home of the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government in exile, McLeod Ganj is a magical place in the Himalayas full of Tibetan refugees, monks and lots and lots of Westerners, all there to enjoy the breathtaking views, peaceful atmosphere and positive energy. (McLeod Ganj was MY FAVORITE destination in India).

Me in front of the Himalayas in McLeod Ganj

However, a week-long introduction to Buddhism course was never in the plan. India was supposed to be learning about Hinduism, not Buddhism, and I was afraid my Buddhism course would cut into my ashram time in the end.

But something pushed me to stay. I don’t know if it was the desire to stay in McLeod Ganj, sheer curiosity or something more powerful, but in the end, I decided to embrace Tushita. And it ended up being one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Located about 15 minutes outside the city, the Tushita Meditation Centre is a Tibetan Buddhist center that hosts free daily meditation sessions and regular Buddhist courses and retreats. It is also home to several monks and nuns.

As the title suggests, the “Introduction to Buddhism” course is an intensive retreat focusing on the basic philosophy of Buddhism through a series of lectures and guided meditations.

The days were fairly routine. Every morning, a gong would sound at 6 a.m. to wake us up in time for our morning meditation session. The rest of the day followed in a sequence of breakfast, morning lecture, stretching, lunch, chores, discussion groups, afternoon lecture, dinner and evening meditation.

I’m not sure if I could pick a place more suitable to learn meditation. Situated right in the mountains, Tushita is completely surrounded by trees, fresh air and beautiful views of the woods below. The gompa itself, our hub for meditation and lessons, was also impressive. In front of the rows of cushions and tiny desks where we sat, a massive gold Buddha commanded the attention of everyone in the room, surrounded by walls of colorful paintings and a photo of the Dalai Lama.

The gompa at the Tushita Meditation Centre in McLeod Ganj

Our housing, however, was a bit more humble, consisting of basic single beds and shelves with shared toilets and showers on the outside (some can opt to pay more for their own room and bathroom, however). And as if you’re not removed from society enough, Tushita was quick to take away any distractions that may otherwise hamper our development, including our phones, cameras, laptops, etc. that got locked away for safekeeping. But I think the one thing that kept the distractions most at bay was one particular rule: no talking.

Yes, apart from asking questions during lecture time and group discussions, the entire retreat was meant to be in silence. No meal-time conversations, no chatting with your roommates, just lots of time to reflect on the day’s lesson, meditate or read Buddhism books.

Ok, I’m pretty sure the ones watching from home right now are laughing in astonishment at the idea of me being quiet for a week, but I’m proud to say, I did it! Better than many others in our group, I might add (you know who you are).

Surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. In fact, it was a bit of a relief at times to be able to sit quietly alone and not feel bad that my frequent anti-social self wasn’t participating in the seemingly-exciting discussions nearby.

Instead, I listened. I read. I watched the monkeys play in the trees (an endless source of entertainment). But most of all, I thought.

Buddhism, when you break it down, is fairly simple. Basically, it’s the idea that through aging, sickness and death (among other things), the human condition is one of suffering. But through meditation and awareness, one can learn to be unattached to temporary, material and emotional things (the causes of suffering) to attain peace, knowledge and, ultimately, enlightenment, an eternal God-like state of bliss and understanding.

On the surface, it’s an easy enough concept to grasp. Removing any sense of karma, reincarnation or beliefs in the spirit realms, even the most devout Christian or adamant atheist can find Buddhism a useful tool for coping through life or deepening one’s own, different, sense of spirituality. In fact, many argue that Buddhism is more of a philosophy than a religion anyway.

For me, who is often overly-emotional, irritable, and/or anxious, Buddhism, in its most basic form, promised a way to find peace, despite external circumstances. But learning to meditate is not easy, especially for one with the charming aforementioned characteristics. To start, just sitting upright, cross-legged for a prolonged period of time can be quite painful without proper strength, flexibility and practice (that’s where yoga helps). And then the really hard part: stilling one’s mind. In training, they teach you to watch your breath, sometimes counting, to help you focus. When thoughts come, as they inevitably do, the idea is to simply observe them and let them go, as if watching a still from a movie. No analyzing, no obsessing and no judgment (not even to scold yourself for thinking), just recognition and release.

If you’ve ever tried this yourself, you know how difficult it is. It’s amazing how many thoughts go through our heads each day, even more amazing when you consider how much of them are repetitious or useless, serving no purpose whatsoever for our ultimate well-being and oftentimes, causing more trouble.

When one gets really deep into meditation, some claim to get glimpses of enlightenment, sublime experiences that are out of this world. Others drudge up old or repressed memories or, sometimes, even past lives. And still, with intense concentration, some gain the ability to transcend human limitations of pain and endurance (so I hear). The whole process is, essentially, a massive clearing out of the junk inside your head that distract or otherwise prevent you from seeing things as they truly are and reaching enlightenment.

In my eight days at Tushita, I got nowhere near enlightenment, nor did I have any freaky out-of-this world moments. I did, however, have one strange experience that took me by surprise, a memory, actually, from the 10th grade.

This was not my first kiss, not some melodramatic teenage argument, nor some significant award or competition that was important to me then. Instead, it was a simple lunch with friends in my high school cafeteria. While I still can’t figure out why this image came to mind, I do remember the olive green color of the shirt I was wearing, the exact positioning of my friends at the table and the random 15-year-old thoughts going through my head at the time, happy to chat with my friends, nervous to talk to the boys I had a crush on. But that’s it.

I still insist this memory was rather trivial, but the one thing I do take from this scenario is how incredible the human mind really is. Maybe we don’t actually forget as much of our lives as we think we do, maybe it’s just a matter of training our minds to drum up the past and, with practice, we can relive the most amazing or even insignificant events that made us who we are today.

As for the rest of the group, we all seemed to have powerful experiences in some form or another. In addition to stilling our minds, our meditation guide, Rinchen, also took us through a series of intense, and at times painful, meditations where we focused on love, forgiveness and death. I tell you, nothing gets the emotions up like imagining what it would be like to say good-bye to loved ones if you only had six months to live or recognizing who you still have grudges against when forced to concentrate on forgiveness.

But, in one of my favorite moments in all of India, Rinchen says, with complete seriousness, “And if you’re older than 26, death is closer than you think.”

In a massive relief of tension, the entire room, made up largely of 20-somethings, bursts out laughing in a tremendous, gut-level release that even Rinchen partakes in. Apparently, there’s only so much gloom and doom we can take.

By the end of the week, despite not talking, we’d all found a deeper connection, not just with ourselves but with each other. In a massive show of unity and friendship, nearly all 100 of those in our group filled the rooftop of Carpe Diem restaurant in McLeod Ganj the day the course ended for dinner together, and I still continue to keep in touch with many of those people today.

I won’t go so far to say I’m a Buddhist just yet, but I will say that after Tushita, I have opened up my heart and my mind to seeing what Buddhism can do for me, and maybe those around me indirectly. Though still a beginner, I have started to meditate regularly and try to use Buddhist philosophy when I find myself frustrated or overcome with emotions.

Could Buddhism be the new Xanax? 😉

Feb20

Cambodia and Vietnam: Part 1

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As I sit here, just a couple weeks after returning from my one-week trip to Cambodia and Vietnam, all I can say is that this trip was one of the most eye-opening experiences of my life. Cambodia, a country that has been through so much political unrest, genocide and famine, was one of the most fascinating yet heartbreaking places I have ever been to. Likewise, Vietnam, the first communist country I have visited, also proved to be a reality check, as I saw firsthand how much control the government exerts on information. Additionally, both of these countries were the two most polluted I have ever been to (especially Ho Chi Min City), and I’m still recovering  from the cough I picked up from the three straight days of congestion I suffered as a result of the pollution aggravating my allergies.

So the trip came about after I found myself with nearly an entire week off work with the celebration of both Federal Territory Day and Chinese New Year in one week (gotta love the many cultures of Malaysia)! Since it was only a few weeks after the massive preparations for Thailand, I decided to join my Finnish friend Karri on his pre-planned trip, which included four days in Cambodia and four days in Vietnam, with my friend Danielle joining us for the second half.

I must say, in the (rushed) weeks planning my trip to Cambodia, I was pretty terrified and extremely anxious of what was to come. After receiving a typhoid vaccine and accumulating a mini-pharmacy including anti-malaria pills, anti-diarrhea pills, stomach medicine, anti-histamines and rehydration salts, I turned my worries more to the country’s lack of infrastructure, unsafe traffic and crime. Plus the image of the nasty scars on the legs of a New Zealand girl I met in Thailand due to a sink and mirror falling on her in her guest house in Cambodia left quite an impression on me.

But as we arrived at the Siem Reap airport and headed to the city, my fears mostly began to melt away. Cambodia is fascinating! To start with, it’s a lot like Thailand, except poorer and “Frencher.” Like Thailand, we rode around in tuk tuks, though the ones in Cambodia are simply motorbikes dragging the carriage as opposed to one, connected (stable) vehicle. Similarly, the food in Cambodia is like that of Thailand, though less spicy and with more French influence, like baguettes and croissants. Additionally, the country has a history of Buddhism and Hinduism with beautiful palaces and temples built with architecture similar to those of Thailand.

Cambodian Child

The country is, however, EXTREMELY poor. I’m not kidding, as we looked at all the children running around, some naked, nearly all barefoot, playing in the dirt and the dirty water in the ditches, I felt like I was looking at a Sally Struthers infomercial to adopt a child. Beggars are everywhere, especially in the city’s capital, Phnom Penh, where one child followed me for two blocks, begging me to buy a pirated book, while another waited for more than 15 minutes next to my dinner table at a restaurant to try to get me to buy one. In addition to the children, the country is full of land mine victims, some who beg on the streets and others who have formed a musical band where they play at tourist places and collect money in a basket.

Landmine Victim Band

Though I normally don’t give money to beggars, it was especially hard to refuse in Cambodia after seeing and reading about all the hardship these people  have endured during the past few decades,  especially under the Khmer Rouge communist government from 1975-79 where between 20 and 25 percent of the population died or was executed under the brutal regime. I found myself, instead, doing quite a bit of shopping, including buying two skirts, two books, earrings, a painting and a t-shirt, always justifying my spending that I was supporting this NGO or the local economy. (Plus, some of the stuff was really cool).

So the whole trip started in Siem Reap, Cambodia home of Angkor Wat, one of the most spectacular temples in the world, and an entire complex of ruins spread out outside the city. As some of the ruins are quite far away from each other, many guidebooks recommend spending at least three days to view everything, but since we only had two days, Karri and I decided to hit the ground running on day one and try to see as much as possible.

Angkor Wat

Our first stop was Angkor Wat, the crown jewel of the entire archeological park. The temple and its surrounding complex were built in the early 12th century for King Suryavarman II. Though now a Buddhist temple, it was originally a Hindu temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu and built to resemble Mount Meru in Hindu mythology, including a massive moat that surrounds the whole thing. Though under some reconstruction at the moment, Angkor Wat was beautiful. The complex is quite large and contains several buildings including a few large entryways, two libraries and the temple itself (side note: make sure to cover your shoulders and legs before you visit, otherwise you will be forced to wait to borrow the temple’s lone scarf for visitors).

Ta Prohm

After Angkor Wat, Karri and I managed to see the rest of the park’s main circuit, and though exhausting, is quite incredible. Actually, despite the national icon that is Angkor Wat, I think I prefer some of the other ruins we saw that day. Ta Phrom, another 12th century temple nearby, was amazing. Most of the temple has already fallen apart and what remains doesn’t look like it will last much longer. What is really beautiful, though, is that the temple is full of huge, old trees which have grown around the ruins, sometimes framing them with their roots.

Karri, Me and the Bayon

Perhaps my favorite ruins, however, were those of the Bayon temple, which were definitely the most unique of all the buildings we saw. The entire thing is covered in FACES! I mean, really, it’s COVERED in actual faces carved into the stone, and they’re all the same face! There are 216 of them, which face all four directions of the building’s 54 towers. Some say the face is of King Jayavarman VII, who commissioned the building in the late 12th or early 13th century, while others say it is supposed to be the Buddhist essence of compassion, the Avalokiteshvara, while others say it is a combination of the two. Whatever the case, the faces are really interesting, albeit, a bit creepy. I’d hate to be stuck there at night…

After more than seven solid hours of ancient ruins, thus ended day one in Cambodia.

Jan21

Thailand Part 2: Ayutthaya

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So after our stay in Bangkok, Josh and I hopped on the train for a day-trip to Ayutthaya, Thailand’s fallen kingdom that dominated the region from 1350 to 1767. Originally I was a bit hesitant to go there, since I hadn’t heard much about it and was not that interested in seeing old ruins, but I am so glad that I did!

Ayutthaya just might be my favorite city in Thailand. It had the feel of a quaint, friendly small town that just happened to be covered with old ruins. In a welcome contrast from Bangkok, our guest house was friendly, charming and had hot water!  And despite having some of the country’s most interesting sites (in my opinion) it wasn’t yet destroyed by tourists.

Wat Phra Mahathat

One of the best ways to explore Ayutthaya is by bicycle, which can be rented cheaply at any of the shops around town, and we found them to be in pretty good condition. You just bike around the city and you’ll see ruins everywhere, and the best part is, you can go right in and walk all over them! You could spend days exploring all of them, but honestly, many of the ruins looked quite similar to me. When the Burmese took over the kingdom in the 1700s they burned and destroyed everything. What remains today are crumbling piles of bricks and chedis (big bell-looking things) that still hold some of the majesty and glory of their golden days.

Inside one of the chedis of Wat Phra Si Sanphet. Holding my breath, but smiling :).

In the interest of saving time, Josh and I just selected a few of the main ones. Our first stop was Wat Phra Mahathat, a beautiful temple with iconic images such as a peaceful Buddha face surrounded by tree roots that just happened to grow around it. Next was Wihan Phra Mongkhon Bophit, home of Thailand’s largest seated Buddha (yet another awe-inspiring moment) and next door to Wat Phra Si Sanphet, the former site of the ancient royal palace when it was located in Ayutthaya. This palace/temple has three massive chedis that hold the ashes of former kings. One of chedis had this little entryway in it, and though I tried to convince Josh to join me to check out the inside, he refused (something about not wanting rabies, whatever). Luckily, I found some braver tourists around to join me and managed to enter into the little dirt hole long enough to grab a photo, ignoring the creepy-crawly noises around me and the overwhelming smell of excrement.

Wat Chai Wattanaram

Later that day, Josh and I joined some other travelers at our guest house for a boat tour of some of the ruins off the island. This was pretty fun. Our non-English speaking guide drove us around this long, canoe-like boat and dropped us off at random places with virtually no explanation, simply saying “20 minutes.” Luckily, we managed to find Wat Phanan Choeng, home of another MASSIVE Buddha, Wat Yai Chai Mongkol, a smaller, less impressive temple with an old chedi, and Wat Chai Wattanaram, the most picturesque of them all. Wat Chai Wattanaram was absolutely gorgeous. Of all the ruins we’d seen, this one seemed the most intact, the most symmetric and was, surprisingly, sparsely populated with tourists. We were there around sunset and the whole thing made just a beautiful silhouette against the sky. It was a great way to end our tour. Next stop, Kanchanaburi!

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Jan13

Thailand Part 1: Bangkok

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It’s been a couple weeks since I returned from my Christmas trip, and let me just say, Thailand is AMAZING! Seriously, it is by far the most exotic, interesting country I have been to yet in Southeast Asia.  I must admit, as much as my mind loved the country, my body was not always a fan. Over the course of a week and a half my allergies were terrible, my face broke out, and I got diarrhea on several occasions, not to mention I was forced to take several cold showers and totally got my butt kicked on a really strenuous jungle trek. But in the end, everything was worth it, and I got to see some of the coolest sights of my life.

So it all started in Bangkok, Thailand’s capital. Josh, one of my best friend’s from high school, was meeting me there from Tennessee to join me on a two-week, Thailand/Malaysia adventure. Since Josh’s first flight was canceled due to snow, I found myself with an extra day in Bangkok to see some of the sights he hadn’t been interested in. As I made my way down Khao San Road, the touristy/backpacker area near where we were staying, I started to get really excited. Khao San Road was so cool! All up and down the street, the road is filled with markets selling, surprisingly, really interesting stuff including clothes, food (deep fried bugs, yum), paintings and a whole bunch of knock off goods. At night, all the restaurants play pretty good live music and the street performers come out, and it’s just a really fun atmosphere. Before we left the city, I already had bought a t-shirt, a dress, funky Thai pants, a backpack and a Buddha wall hanging, it had been a much-enjoyed shopping trip!

Our room in Bangkok. This was the farthest back I could get without leaving the room, it was so small and the mattresses were so hard!

But as I was walking down the street that first afternoon heading to the bed and breakfast we had reserved, I soon became acquainted with the room accommodations in Bangkok. Our room at the Tuptim Bed and Breakfast was one of the smallest rooms I had ever seen in my life. It came with two twin beds (with hard mattresses) merely a few feet apart and was so small we could not even open the door completely before hitting one of the beds. Not only did this room not have a bathroom, it didn’t even have a closet, and our luggage space was limited to one shelf with a bar overhead. The place had promised hot showers in the community bathrooms down the hall, but as I soon found out, that was often a myth in Thailand. (According to an American woman who was living in Thailand, the water heaters are quite expensive but break easily and no one knows how to fix them, so they just don’t). Thus began the first of many cold showers that would punctuate my Thailand trip.

Anyway, after settling in, I went to the place’s restaurant to order my first official Thai meal: green curry chicken, rice and chocolate milk with ice. It was absolutely delicious, but as I soon learned, don’t drink the water, and ice counts as water…  Things were fine until I reached my first destination, the Jim Thompson House. On first arrival, things were fine. The house is beautiful. It is a mansion made of teak wood comprised of several traditional Thai houses, with quite a collection of art and china. Jim Thompson was the American who made Thai silk famous in the west by organizing the silk production using traditional hand-woven methods. He disappeared in 1967 in Malaysia’s Cameron Highlands and, to this day, his death is still a mystery.

Things were fine and dandy until my stomach started cramping up, and I found myself regretting part of that first Thai meal I had found so delicious. Seriously, it was quite embarrassing. Every time I would stand in line to wait for the next tour group, I found myself running to the bathroom! The only thing I can say is I was eventually able to make it through a 25-minute tour with no problems and was grateful I found myself at a relatively high-class, well-maintained tourist attraction with clean, well-equipped bathrooms.

As I took a cab back to Khao San Road (most of the cabs are delightfully bright pink!), feeling weak, exhausted and dehydrated, I decided to take it easy the rest of the night and chuckled to myself that of course this would happen on my first day, such a stereotypical travel story!

Josh’s plane arrived later that night and by the next morning, we were both semi-well-rested and ready to really hit the ground running. Our first stop was Ko Ratanakosin, Bangkok’s former royal district. Let me tell you, this was one of my absolute favorite sights in Thailand. The grounds are full of temples and former palaces/royal buildings that are absolutely beautiful, full of architecture that I had never seen before. To start, the temples are huge and often come with a “chedi”, a large, bell-shaped tower that often hold relics of Buddha or a Thai king. The temples are covered in gold, colored tiles and mosaics that just sparkle in the sun. They are also full of images of mythical creatures with tails and strange faces that was really just unusual and interesting to see. And unlike all the churches in Europe, these temples are well-maintained and look like they were built yesterday.

Wat Pho, Bangkok's oldest temple housing Thailand's largest, reclining Buddha.

Next we headed to Wat Pho nearby, Thailand’s oldest temple and home of the largest reclining Buddha in Thailand. After having spent a couple hours in awe of the buildings in Ko Ratanakosin, I was delighted to find myself in awe once again: the Wat Pho Buddha is HUGE!  Seriously, as Josh and I waited in line outside the temple, I got a glimpse of Buddha’s head through the window slit, and I’m pretty sure my jaw dropped. This Buddha is 46 meters long and 15 meters high, with my head making up the size of just one of his toes!

Wearing the sarong I was forced to buy to enter the Ananta Samakhom Throne Hall.

Later that afternoon, we headed over to Dusit Palace Park, Thailand’s current royal district containing the Vimanmek Teak Mansion, a former palace from the early 20th century full of Victorian-like décor after the Thai king got inspiration from Europe. More interesting, however, was the old parliament building turned museum, Ananta Samakhom Throne Hall. The museum has a pretty interesting collection of Thai arts and crafts, including some really cool-looking gold thrones/decorations and some really intricate, iridescent green tapestries colored from beetle wings. What I found both interesting and irritating, however, is that I was forced to buy and wear a sarong to enter the building! Now, just to be clear, I was already fully-dressed including long blue jeans, closed-toe tennis shoes and a t-shirt with my hoodie JUST IN CASE I had to cover even more. Not to mention the fact, I wasn’t even in a temple! But no, on King’s orders, all women must be wearing a skirt or something, so I paid the 40 baht (about $1.30) and wore the sarong, over my jeans. Yeah, I looked hot.

After all the excitement and beauty of day one, I must say day two was a little bit of a letdown. The day started off just fine. Wearing my brand new, super cute (super cheap) Thai dress, Josh and I headed out to visit Wat Arun, a temple full of tall, spire-like buildings covered in porcelain tile. The buildings were beautiful and you can take extremely steep, dangerous steps to walk all over them overlooking lovely views of the Chao Phraya River.  From there, we took an hour-long boat tour of the river to reach another part of the city, where we were treated to a relaxing ride viewing modern Thai houses and giant lizards sunbathing on the rocks.

Bangkok tuk tuk driver covering his nose and mouth while driving around Chinatown

All was great until we reached Chinatown, when all the negative ideas I had about Bangkok being crowded and dirty suddenly came to life. The sidewalks are so full, you can’t even walk down them without touching people and the air is so polluted a lot of people cover their mouths and noses as they walk or drive down the street. Furthermore, the stuff they’re actually selling is mostly a bunch of tourist junk, nothing interesting at all. And worst of all, it is never ending!  I swear to you, every time we turned a corner in the hopes of leaving Chinatown, we just found more Chinatown! Finally, I told Josh we just had to grab a cab and get the hell out before I went crazy. I finally was able to get some much needed peace at Wat Traimit, home of a three meter tall, solid gold Buddha where I was able to “meditate” (Josh called it napping, whatever…).

Our day ended with an evening of Muay Thai boxing, a very long evening… Unlike American boxing, in Muay Thai boxing boxers can use all parts of their body (except the head) to hurt their opponent, including the more fun parts like elbows and knees. Honestly, after expecting a really brutal fighting match, I was a bit disappointed that a bunch of the moves ended with the guys really close to each other, almost “hugging” it out. Not that I’m really interested in watching people beat each other for entertainment (not enough testosterone), but if I’m going to sit through five hours of this stuff, I’d at least like to see someone get knocked out or something. Of course, that is exactly what happened during the most interesting fight between the current champion and his opponent. That one was quite exciting but the guy got knocked out in the third or fourth round, so it was over pretty fast. All in all, I’m glad I saw it, but find it unlikely I’ll ever do it again.

So thus ended our stay in Bangkok (at least for a few days). Then Josh and I headed back and prepared to visit Ayutthaya!