A lot of the Buddhist teachings focus on impermanence, how everything changes, and that much of our suffering stems from thinking otherwise.
I went into the meditation retreat on November 7th. I emerged on Nov. 15th, nine days later. Donald Trump is the next president of the United States. 500 and 1000 rupee notes are no longer legal tender in India, and Leonard Cohen is dead. Lesson learned.
in the Small World Dept, I ran into a woman from my Eastern Passage yoga class in a restaurant two nights ago. Never, ever think you can get away with having an affair on this planet.
The scene in banks across India right now. By the way, I succeeded in getting my money exchanged after four hours in the queue.
Been awake since 3 a.m. – one of the downsides of international travel – but I got six solid hours of sleep in my own (wonderful) bed. Â And there’s coffee, and mail to sort.
The journey home was uneventful with the exception of a brief fight at the luggage carousel in Toronto….no, I was not involved and I have no idea what happened but it could have been the result of frayed nerves and lack of sleep after 13 + hours in a tube in the sky.
The surprise came when I hit the airport hotel. Some background…The airline changed the schedule after I bought the ticket, necessitating a layover in Toronto. EVA Air was supposed to book and pay for the room for me, but when my departure date drew nearer with no word from them, I decided to book something myself and settle with them later. Heard nothing from them after leaving Canada in January.
At check-in, the clerk pointed out that I had two rooms reserved. I was about to tell him he’d made a mistake when it dawned on me, particularly when he said one was in the name of Mary Susan (that’s the way my passport reads). Sure enough, EVA had booked a room, they just hadn’t notified me. And they booked it at THE SAME HOTEL that I chose. Do you know how many airport hotels there are near Pearson??? Absolutely mind-boggling.
So, didn’t have to fork over any $$s for the room. Of course, my car found out so I had to pay for a new battery yesterday….. Still and all, great to be back!
One of the many whimsical features of Suvarnabhumi Airport in Bangkok.
With temples on every second street corner, Chiang Mai is similar to Luang Prabang, but it has a much different vibe. Faster, but manageable. I, on the other hand, have pretty much come to a complete stop, and it’s exactly what I wanted to do. My guesthouse has a pool, and I am close to everything, fresh food markets, good vegetarian restaurants and walkable streets.
My oasis.
I went to the Night Market two nights ago.. The whole street, for blocks, consisted of vendors lining the sidewalk, and there were two huge covered areas that look more permanent. I think one of them is the actual market but for me the whole thing melded into one. Lots of tacky stuff but a few things worthy of a second look. Didn’t buy a thing unless you count street food which was good!
Last night, I ate dinner at a tiny veg place a five-minute walk from here. A scrumptious green papaya salad followed by a veg dish featuring red rice, a healthier alternative to white. The place itself is nothing to look at but the food…. I’ll be seeing more of these folks before I leave.
Random shots from my wandering so far…
My friend Beth sees Jimi Hendrix in the water spray. So this is where rock stars go after death.Entrance to Chili’s restaurant. Haven’t tried the food; the decor alone is enough!Across the street from the night market…peace.I practically tip-toed up to these “monks”, thinking they were real and absorbed in meditation.So lifelike.Buddhas are calming to me.
Getting set to leave the River View Guest House and Bangkok tomorrow. Catching a river boat to Central Pier then the Sky Train to the bus station and heading southeast to the Thai-Cambodian border. My route involves several stops and starts but I’m looking forward to it. Bangkok is hot, humid and hectic, and I’m longing for some beach, somewhere.
As is usually the case, I’m just starting to get a sense of this huge, fascinating city as I’m about to leave. My guest house is situated on the river (or in close proximity), and there are excellent connections via various modes of public transit to all corners. I gained a bit of confidence this morning, getting to Wat Traimit and back without getting lost and beating a scam artist at his own game in the process! The fact remains though, I’m not much for big cities.
Said good-bye to new friends this afternoon. Kate and Ruth are heading south to surf, sand and (more) sun. I wish them a peaceful, relaxing month; it would be great if our paths were to cross again!
Twenty-four hours from now I’ll be awaiting the arrival of my friends who have kindly offered a lift to the airport (thanks Pat and  Miker).  Hair is short and sassy (thanks Jan), toes soft and shiny (merci Melanie), and arrangements are in place for condo and plants (thanks Betty).
As excited as I am about exploring a new part of the world, I am having strong flashbacks to last year at this time and experiencing weird bits of sadness. I miss my beloved Nepal as well as the sights, smells and sounds of India, and I’m having pangs about not returning this year. Oh well, there’s always 2017…
Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos and Northern Thailand! 12 weeks! Bring it on!
Mom opening gifts at her 90th birthday disco party New Year’s Day. Love this woman, but don’t tell her where I am!
Made the trek from the Passage to Bathurst today. For the number of times I have driven those 478 km, today was the first time I noticed that it is a microcosm of this country in a number of ways. I’ve always been keenly aware of the change in climate of course. I can’t count the times I’ve left a snowless Halifax under clear skies only to watch the clouds gather as I approached Truro. By the time I’d reach the Cobequid Pass it was often snowing, and the roads and landscape would gradually turn to a winter wonderland by the time I’d hit the Bathurst city limits.
Today was different. Yes, I left a green Halifax and arrived in winter but the highway in between was shrouded in thick fog that obliterated familiar landmarks and played scary tricks as oncoming cars and lumbering trucks emerged like ghosts out of the mist.
But back to my discovery. I’m familiar of course with New Brunswick’s sharp divisions when it comes to French and English communities. It’s almost as if the warring forefathers drew literal lines in the topography to claim their territories. It wasn’t until today that I noted the sprinkling of Mi’kmaq names in the mix and how representative this is of Canada as a whole. Love that diversity. Love that Christmas here will be white.
I spent the afternoon at the Syrian refugee donation centre today. After dancing my butt off at the Mic Mac boat club last night to the phenomenal talent of Charlie A’Court, John Campbelljohn, Bill Stevenson and my new favourites – the Mark Greene Band – it seemed like the natural way to balance my energy, the little I had left.
Looking left from main entrance.
It had been eight days since my last visit. If I was overwhelmed with the amount of stuff that came through the door that first day, I have no words for what has happened since. One of the government guys told me that 3,000 bags of clothing alone have been dropped off this past week. Add to that the furniture, small kitchen appliances, toys, toiletries, and miscellaneous items and, well, you get a lot of items to be sorted, categorized, displayed, etc.
And looking right.
Some volunteers were in the process of installing shelving while others were actually tackling the bags and boxes. For some reason (maybe all the dancing), it took me awhile before I found my niche. Hangers. Boxes and garbage bags and grocery bags and you-name-it bags of hangers. Wooden hangers, big black coat hangers, plastic hangers, pant hangers, padded hangers, hangers covered with Phentex yarn and finally, those #%+£€¥$&@/( wire hangers that seem to engage in orgies whenever two or more of them meet.
At first it seemed impossible. After awhile, a Zenlike quality seemed to settle around me and my life became about bringing order to the chaos…separating the offenders and getting them settled into orderly groups, never again to engage in such debauchery. I tied them up. Some of them probably liked it.
A little less than a month til my next winter adventure. I can tell it’s getting close because I got the call yesterday about the flight change. This is a critical part of my travels – the burst of adrenaline that comes with the realization of how helpless I am in the face of the airline industry. The flight to Bangkok has been booked for months…five or six at least. And yesterday they informed me of a schedule change by EVA Airways that makes the final leg of the return flight illegal.
In my opinion, the only illegal part about this is how they can make changes to my itinerary a scant four weeks in advance with no consequences. If the situation were reversed, we all know there would be costs involved. Mine. It seems that when they make changes, the costs are also mine.
On the bright side. I am heading for a part of the world that I’ve wanted to see for a long time – Southeast Asia. The sprawling temples of Cambodia’s Angkor Wat, the beaches of Vietnam, the mystery of Laos and finally, ten days or so in Chiang Mai in Northern Thailand. Preparation for this trip has been different from past travels; I have reserved a few rooms at the start and two nights in Phnom Penh but nothing beyond. A little more spontaneity, a lot more potential for spending the night at the bus station.
