Kansas!

This blog is coming back to life soon...

china, here I am

wrong step

With one faulty step
An ankle can be shattered
And a wandering girl
Becomes a wandering cripple
- Zach (my poet of a brother)
























The meditation retreat ended on March 4th and much has happened since I last wrote. On the eighth day of the retreat I broke my ankle. Surgery was needed and I now have a metal pin in my ankle with five screws drilled into my bone to hold it in place. I stayed in the hospital for 9 days from December 18th through the 26th. I'm actually lucky I didn't break it during the three months prior: climbing Mt. Kinabalu, trekking in the jungle with no access to a phone or medical facilities or while learning to ride a motorbike in Thailand. It was a fairly good situation to break an ankle in. The temple and the doctor took good care of me and after 4 weeks in a cast and some limping I'm walking almost normal and the pain is almost entirely gone. In one year the pins need removed and I'm tentatively planning on Thailand for the surgery considering the staggering price of health care in America.

Korea again

After some problems at the Kuala Lumpur airport, which delayed my departure for almost 24 hours, I finally made it back to Korea at 6:45am yesterday. I made a hurried visit to Tom and Kaleigh's to get my winter coat and boots and we had pancakes and caught up while I repacked for the temple. Soon after I caught a train to Gyeryeong (standing room only) and now I'm here and in a mild state of shock brought on partially by the brutal weather change and also in anticipation of a drastic lifestyle change that begins tomorrow with the first day of kyol che or "tight meditation" at Musangsa temple in the Gyeryeong mountains. So here I am and here I will be for the next 90 days. I will be thinking of all my family and friends back home and abroad and hoping you all enjoy the holidays. Goodbye for now!

pai in the sky

Once arrived in Chiang Mai I decided to immediately get further from the city. Bangkok and the long train ride convinced me. I went to the bus station and got on the next bus to Pai, a winding 4 hour journey. The bus was maybe meant to seat about 30 people but they overbooked and we had about 45 people plus and all our stuff. Some people were sitting in the aisle and some actually stood the entire way. I was sitting next to a window with a Thai girl about 12 or 13 next to me. I slept against the window and she slept on my shoulder. I didn't sleep the whole way though, it was nearly impossible to anyways with all the windy roads pushing and pulling us back and forth across the seat. Our bus driver was a kind soul who stopped to pick up every one on the side of the street who needed a ride. By the time we nearly arrived we had about ten extras from when we started. I say nearly because a few kilometers before we did arrive the bus got a flat. We drove in on it until the first mechanic shop and then I walked the rest of the way.








Pai is a lazy little river town with beautiful surroundings and people and wonderful food, where every day is like a Sunday afternoon. It was good to stop for a while and relax free from the daily travels to and from, a different bed every night, trains, buses, boats, heavy backpack, no sleep. I've been staying at the coziest guesthouse with A-frame rooms for 100 baht per night (US$2.50), hammocks and pillows, campfires and stories, parties and music and many many eccentric guests from the world over. Never a dull moment. Around the area are many rice fields, hills and trees, waterfalls, temples, elephants, a hot springs, a swimming pool and a gorgeous canyon that was deserted when I visited-- only me and the red dirt and hot sun. Beautiful! I've also learned how to ride a motorbike since I've been here. It's quite easy but I've just never done it before. In Thailand no drivers license is necessary (I think mine expired about a year ago) and I think you have to be at least eight years old to ride. (Don't worry Mom, I've now made it out of Thailand uninjured.) The huge misspelled signs intended to curb the foreign accident rate made me smile, "Please remember, your drive on the left".





One of my most magical moments in Pai happened in the middle of the night when the stars were jumping out of the sky and the crickets were chirping and almost everyone else was sleeping. A small group from the guesthouse went on a hike, led by PO the owner, in the dark to find the perfect spot to release a small paper hot air balloon. According to Thai beliefs, releasing the balloon is symbolic of releasing everything bad you carry with you-- feelings, thoughts, intentions-- and then starting new with a clear mind. We walked on and on carrying with us the fragile paper balloon, amazingly not ruining it stumbling along in the dark. We kept going, hearing "almost there" about every five minutes but never seeming to get there. We came to a small river that had to be waded through and then shortly after we arrived in a field where the stars shone even brighter and it was perfect. The lights of Pai nowhere near, only the stars and the sound of the bugs and our own voices. We sat in a circle and took a few minutes of silence to think of all we wanted to release before we lit the balloon and sent it away. Without speaking, PO lit the bottom of the balloon and it began to fill up with hot air. We remained in a circle each of holding with our fingertips the edge of the balloon until it was ready to be released. We held on lightly until the balloon took of on it's own into the night sky. It was beautiful, it looked like a giant jellyfish swimming in the glowing plankton of stars. We watched until all that remained was a small burning dot, one more star, and then it was gone along with everything we sent up with it.

on a train on a train all day all night

Back going north again sitting on the sunny side of the train, no where else to sit, skin sticking to the seats, sweat falling in drops down the back of my legs, the large windows all open letting in a breeze and a view. Women and men walked up and down the aisle selling drinks, beer, noodles, fruit and chanting a never ending mantra of their product name and price. Not knowing Thai, I never knew what they were selling until they came right to my seat and I could look in their basket. Too hot to eat anyways though.

All day the train moved on making periodical stops at cities along the way and I moved with it. Past more flooding, it seemed to never end, houses underwater, nearly the tracks underwater at some parts. A man sitting across from me offered me some rice and told me that crocodiles were seen swimming through houses around the area we were passing through. There is such an acceptance with tragedy here that I'm not used to. Or at least acceptance is how I perceive it, maybe it's not. But people aren't going wild with grief everywhere, mourning the loss of their property and land for everyone to see. People shrug and move on and eat and sleep and laugh because really, what else can you do? Everyone seems calm and lets the path of life take it's course. Such enlightened sweet simple people doing everything with a smile and really meaning it.

So I read and looked out the window at the fields and trees and underwater trees and water and sometimes a temple. And the little girl in the seat on the other side of the window sat with her arms resting on the window seal and her chin on her hands, the wind blowing in her face the entire way. I noticed a faint rainbow out the opposite window and pointed it out to my new friend. The moving sunset was a beautiful change of scenery and then the train car was dark.

Right after sunset the train made it's last stop in Phitsanoluk and I bought a ticket for the night train to Chiang Mai. The man sitting across from me invited me to his house for the time between trains to relax from the long journey (and many hours to go still to Chiang Mai!). He told me he was a business professor and his wife and daughter live in Bangkok. Every weekend he takes the long train back and forth to visit. Crazy to me it seems but her job took her to Bangkok and he still had his job in Phitsanoluk and besides didn't like Bangkok anyways. Ht his house he gave me a sweet roll and some coffee and we talked about our families and shared pictures and then it was time to go. He came with me back to the train station and saw me off for the rest of my journey. Before he left he found someone else that was going on the next train to help me out if I needed anything.

The train was over an hour late and I went to the night market nearby and bought a pineapple- banana-orange fruit shake and some rice to take with me on the train if it ever showed up. It did and I got a seat to myself and after I ate my dinner I fell asleep across three seats. Some time later a train attendant woke me up. It was dark outside and everyone was filing out of the train car. That wasn't so bad, I thought, we're here already! But we weren't, they were just moving us to a different car. One that was packed full of half-awake and some asleep people and bags and boxes. After some shuffling I found a seat opposite three young boys clad in bright orange doing their obligatory monk training. For the next few hours I was in a half-sleep state until finally the sun came up and shortly after we pulled in to the final stop: Chiang Mai. Finally!