"First we see, then we do."

Disclaimer: This is a long entry. Something on my blog is malfunctioning, it flushes all the text Bold even though I've closed all the tags... Anyway, I apologize. I appreciate your reading as much as you can muster.

This is Cambodia. Hello, from Cambodia.

I've been staying in Phnom Pehn with my friend Lynn. We met during Segment 1 of my travels in Vietnam with Thich Nhat Hanh. She and her husband have been living in Cambodia for almost 3 years now. They have a beautiful tiled apartment, set back from a quiet street, a big sitting room with lots of windows, surrounded by trees and birds that sing in the morning. It's really an amazing place to be.

Lynn and I!

They moved here after all 3 of their children had graduated from college, intending to use the new freedom as an opportunity to help those in need. Currently, Tom is helping to orchestrate a team of Cambodia physicians in the AIDS/HIV arena. Lynn spends her time volunteering -- teaching english at two prisons just outside of PP, caring for severely disabled children at a government orphanage, and aiding a French-Catholic NGO which distributes information on safe-sex, healthy relationships, and HIV prevention to young Cambodians.

Something, huh?

My original idea in coming here was to follow Lynn's husband day and night for a week or two, just to get a feel for the life of an AIDS doctor in the developing world. I mean, here he is, doing the work I've been dreaming of (carelessly) for years. The opportunity seemed to good to be true.

And you know, it probably was. Real life is a million times better.

As it happened. the dates of my travel to Cambodia and time in Phnom Pehn almost perfectly coincided with Tom's departure for the good ole' US of A. He's still there, and I am here. I haven't been in touch with his world at all. I have, however, had one of the most amazing weeks of my life.

Being humanitarian and wonderful, Lynn happened to have a number of contacts lying around in the AIDS/HIV treatment world of Cambodia. One in particular jumped to mind when I mentioned my particular interest in AIDS orphans and infected children. She made a quick call, and set up a meeting with her eccentric, Catholic friend John for the next afternoon. John has founded an NGO in Phnom Pehn which has, in a matter of three or four years, single-handly blown open the door on care for HIV+ children in Cambodia. There were absolutely no resources for them before he came along. His organization, New Hope for Cambodian Children, now cares for more than 500 children in the southern regions of Cambodia. He is just in the process of building a village outside of town which will house more than 200 orphans, a village where they can not only receive treatment for their condition, but also learn vocational skills, live in a familial environment, go to school, laugh and play together. The designs are just amazing. And the first set of houses are complete! Children are moving in next week! It's just in time. Each of his 4 group homes in PP city are completely overcrowded.

The thing is, though. The thing is. His organization is different. It's different than the schools and orphanages I saw in Vietnam, different than the other places Lynn brought me to here in Phnom Pehn. The children he's caring for have a terminal illness. They are completely abhorred by society at large. Most were abandoned, even abused, by the families that bore them. Terribly tragic truths. But, in the centers we visited (one for infants and toddlers, one for elementary-aged youths) there was real joy. There was love and happiness and excitement. They call him Papa John, and when he comes to call, the cheer and run and shout and joke. These children are the happiest children I've seen in Cambodia. They have the most beautiful faces. I fell in love.

The kids, playing with Papa John

They kept calling him chubby (in Khmer)
He'd say Noooo, skinny!
While puffing out his belly
His organization is different, because it is based on true love and a deep desire to stop the suffering of others. It understands that suffering comes from isolation, neglect, and rejection. It understands the basic emotional and spiritual needs of humanity. John and his wife saw a need, and they filled it. They worked hard, they wouldn't take no for an answer, and they loved everyone, every step of the way. "I haven't turned away a kid yet," John says. "Not even the girl ones."

I could go on about NHCC for just about my whole life, but I won't. I want to come back next summer to be a live-in volunteer at the blossoming village. I'm also learning how to fund-raise, so that I can do so at Columbia during the year, for his organization and others. Gotta get the resources, man. Gotta get the resources.

Sokai and Lynn

The dancing fiend! He's ten years old.
Lynn and I also went to the orphanage and spent time with ten severely disabled Cambodian children. I was worried that the experience would be too difficult or too consuming, as people at home had warned, but it was simply wonderful. Though the children's bodies were under-developed, they smiled and loved and received love in just the same way as all the other children I've had in my life. They were in a clean, simple space, with toys and books. They lay together on a mat and absorbed our presence with such alert energy! One boy gave the most jubilant smiles whenever one of us would muster a goofy dance to the screechy radio muzak. Another radiated silent joy for simple peek-a-boo games. Pure and light and living, as much as possible. They squirmed when they diapers were wet, they fought against naptime, they exuded innocence and love. I feel so blessed to have met them. They gave me such a gift.

The slum, home to Aziza Schoolhouse

There's another American here, Drew, who came a little over a year ago as a tourist, saw and experienced the poverty and the need, went home, and came straight back. He infiltrated a really impoverished slum area just a block from Lynn's apartment, and started a free school for the children who live there. He just burst in, threw some things together, and opened up shop. He offers scholarships for medical and dental care to each of the kids, passes out toothbrushes and new sandals, pays Cambodian teachers and wrangles the odd volunteer, like Lynn, to provide guest lessons on English, visual art, karate, or leadership. It's a beautiful thing he has, but his mind is all over the place! His funding comes primarily from his friends, only $1000/month for the whole school which serves something like 90 children, 8 hours/day, 6 days/week. On Friday afternoon, Lynn showed the kids how to fold their own simple books from a single sheet of paper (actually, she taught me, too. It's a really cool trick!) and gave each of them the tools to write their own "Little English Books." It was great! 30something kids, in varying states of dress, huddled over folded computer paper and colored pencils, biting their tongues while copying Latin script, letter by letter, curve by curve.

A dedicated student

Those are the service projects we've visited. She's described at least a dozen more. The need is so great here. Cambodia was so devastated by the wars and the genocide. The government is still hideously corrupt. The rural areas are without jobs, without aid, without anything.

This is really difficult. There's so much to talk about.

If you couldn't tell, I've sort of ingested Cambodia and turned it over and over within me. Combining centuries of culture, architechture, and leadership with the recent years of devastation and suffering, Phnom Pehn is truly unique. Because of it, I feel a new awareness, a new existence. With everything I've learned being here, as hot and as buggy as it is, all I can think is I can't wait to come back. I can't wait to go home, learn more, and come back. It's beautiful and sad and so many things, it's terrifying.

I can't wait to come back.

Maybe I'll re-organize my thoughts and edit this post a little more cohesively. I think it's a bit allovertheplace, but then again SO AM I. I'll blame it on the fact that it's very late and the day has been long. Visiting Tuol Sleng genocide museum, getting lost, watching Pan's Labyrinth, packing for the next leg of my voyage. Withstanding the heat. But I am envigorated by the challenge and the promise of what's to come. Of what there is to be done!

I invite any and all of you to join me. Fo reals. Everyone. Really.

Also, this has lead me to great curiosity. If you've read this far, my friends, or if you've skipped to this paragraph: what issues are important to you? What cause draws you in? Is there something really pressing you into action? I see us as a pretty mobile and socially-aware bunch, my generation. My peers. My friends. My human family. Is there some suffering in the world or in your backyard that you feel a personal drive to alleviate? If yes, what is it? If yes, how do you intend to do so? What skills do you rely on? What skills do you hope to gain?

Until Next Time, "In our time, the struggle between old and new will reach its crescendo. It's not over yet, and we carry scars of this struggle in our hearts. Questions raised by contemporary philosophers makes us feel lost and anxious. Confused minds suggest that existence is meaningless, even absurd, and this adds another coat of black to our darkened hearts. "Existence is foul. Humans are loathsome. No one can hope to be good. There is no way to beautify life." Even while adopting such mindsets, people cling to the illusion that we are free to be who we want. Yet most of the time we are merely reacting to the wounds engraved in our hearts. Almost no one listens to his or her true self. But when we are not ourselves, any freedom we think we have is illusory. Sometimes we reject freedom because we fear it. Our true selves are buried beneath layers of moss and brick. We have to break through those layers in order to be liberated, but we are afraid it may break us, also. We have to remind ourselves over and over again that the layers of moss and brick are not our true selves."
- Thich Nhat Hanh, Fragrant Palm Leaves: Journals 1962-1966

Brown birds on barbed wire, listen to them sing

Assorted pictures from Phnom Pehn, Cambodia -- shared for the sake of sharing.

Phnom Pehn, adorned and abandoned

Brown bird on barbed wire

Tuol Sleng genocide museum
Bocce Ball

Tuol Sleng genocide museum
Statues, Wat Ounalom

Sex, monkey?

On a wire!
Fat, monkey?

Snuggle, monkey?

Until Next Time, silly monkey.

Craters in the earth

I'm in Cambodia! Arrived safe and happy without dangerous gangsta action or harrowing traffic close-calls. My AC Bus left Saigon at 9am with 6 people on it, one of whom was a 20-something Canadian woman just finishing up a few months of solo travel, so there were nice chats. Of course, I slept on and off -- buses make me tired! -- and so maybe missed the best of the countryside, but such is life. I nevertheless have a profound respect and awe for the Cambodian countryside, just based on the few glimpses I had.

Monument to honor nothern Vietnamese women and children

Seen from across the Ben Hai river, dividing line between N and S VN
I've been heavily pre-occupied by the events of the war over the past few days. The literature I had finished, the countryside, a tour of the heavy-fighting and mining areas, interaction with American Vet sentiments and Communist framing of the war. The DMZ tour was a 12-hour day in a non-AC Bus; we drove for hours with the front door open, past stilt houses and old military bases. Light clay roads and resurgant vegetation. Good lord, it was hot. So hot. Damn hot. I don't mean to be crude, but I've never sweat so much in my life. Ever. More sweat than skin. And the monuments, the museums, the war relics and battlefields. It was a hazy, dehydtrated, sun-spotted excursion, to say the very least. And the peace of these places. They're so calm now. You're told about the brutality and the combat. But what's left is heat and dust and profoundly-worded monuments. There was a 'guestbook' at one of the museums on Khe Sanh Marine Base, a pretty gruesome place if I understand correctly. And the guestbook was full of diverse remarks, in language and subject matter and feeling. But a number of American soldiers wrote things like "I can't believe I'm back. This is not the place I remember," or "This was a Hell, and now it's a museum. Thank you." It was so shocking and so simple. I have never lived in war. I have never experienced that terror, and I probably never will. Reading books, hearing stories, seeing pictures and feeling sorry, I will never know war. I will never know what war does to people, I will never touch their experiences. I empathize, I conceptualize, I feel. I work towards an understanding of my freedom as the freedom of others. I work to see more deeply, to really comprehend. But I do not know war. These reminders are not war. They are reminders of war.

I do not think that is enough.

The mountains of the DMZ

We went into the tunnels at Vinh Moc. Entire villages lived underground for five years. Sleeping, peeing, praying, giving birth. Seventeen babies were born in the Vinh Moc tunnels. They are all alive today. Our tour group, of which my friend Kate and I were the only Americans, went 60 feet underground in these tunnels. The system as a whole is hundreds of kilometers long, three different depths, spanning the whole DMZ, linked by trenches. Pictures of the land at that time are terribly beautiful -- the Earth was so full of craters, it looked like the surface of the moon. The dirt came off the walls on our hands and shoulders, bent over and shuffling in the brown darkness. They had oil lamps, they had bandages. They had guns. And not much else.

Scratched graffiti on a tunnel wall

We visited Peace Trees the next day, an organization which de-mines and plants trees all throughout Quang Tri province, which is home to the DMZ and the most brutal battles and traps of the war. The visit was like candy, it was so sweet. Tragic, yes, as the mines that were left behind ended up claiming almost exclusively the lives and limbs of local children. But Quang Le, a beautiful man with a powerful story, has been working there for almost 12 years now, after decades of work in the US and at refugee camps in Thailand. He got out just after the war, but his wife and children were held by the Communist regime for years after. He says he did his work just to "keep his mind busy." Now, he's instrumental to the cause of "reversing the legacy of war." Building schools, educating de-miners, and children who live in mined areas. Giving scholarships, planting trees. He was a true boddhisatva, he really took care of my friends and I when we visited.

Peace Trees!

This land was barren just 11 years ago
Thank you, for being here. More on Cambodia tomorrow or the day after. And my impromtu Vietnamese homestay last night! It's a brand new world, and there's so much to learn.

Until Next Time, "Medical statistics will be our standard of measurement: we will weigh life for life and see where the dead lie thicker, among the workers or among the privileged."
- Rudolf Virchow, 1848

Pictures from a day in rural, central Vietnam

Visiting local schools, supported by Plum Village.
Looking in


Heavily bombed area, next to the "Highway of Great Danger"


Vietnamese landscape (yes, rice paddies) -- Green!


Monk on a colorful swing


Thich Nhat Hanh's father

from his ancestral temple, outside of Hue
Today is my last day with the delegation. I hardly know what to say.

Touring the DMZ tomorrow, Peace Trees on Monday, back to Saigon on Tuesday, Phnom Penh (Cambodia) on Wednesday.

Until Next Time: Hello, Deepening Roots of the Heart.

For peace, please

I'm in Hue! The ancient capitol of Vietnam, Hue is HUMID. The air is saturated, I'm sweating all the time. I've never lived in a climate like this. Of course, the pollution is so much less than in Saigon, I'm not close to complaining about a little wet heat, but WOW. The middle of the jungle baby.

Jungle and tombs under rain, Tu Hieu Temple

Hue is the closest city to the DMZ (De-militarized Zone), which remains the most heavily bombed piece of earth on this planet. I've been told that more bombs were dropped over Hue than in all of WWII, but that that with a grain of salt. I have not verified its validity myself.

Currently, I'm in the middle of reading 3 books -- Thich Nhat Hanh's Old Path White Cloud, an epic and simple re-telling of the Buddha's lifetime (they're making it into a movie!); Sr. Chan Khong's Learning True Love: How I learned and Practiced Social Change in Vietnam, a beautiful and tragic account of the events of the war anf of Thay's life during that period; and Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, for the second time. With regard to the last two, and a visit to the War Remnant's Museum (or, A Showcase of the Atrocities Laid Upon the Vietnamese People by US Imerialists), I am slowly formulating a sense for the real devestation of this war, and all wars. It's horrific, this kind of violence, and the inhumanity it instills. I can't believe the destruction. I never understood. Agent Orange is still wrecking havoc on this nation, babies are being born still today with terrible deformities due to exposure. Many of its older victims are begging here on the streets of Hue and in the temples where we go to practice. I won't describe them, but I'm completely humbled before it. The suffering here is enormous and all-encompassing and continual.

The response that keeps re-surfacing is Thank god for Thich Nhat Hanh. A leader, a visionary. He has it, you know? He's fighting the beauocracy, he's fighting with peace and love and compassion and understanding. Without resentment or cynacism or demand. He is fighting, and he will win. It may take many more generations, but his message is true. LOVE ALL BEINGS. PREVENT ALL POSSIBLE SUFFERING. ACT WITH COMPASSION. DO NOT KILL. DO NOT DISCRIMINATE. It's simple, it's true, it's the most basic sort of honest. I am grateful for him, the man, but I am most grateful for the message he is unafraid to spread. The communist officials here are breathing down his neck, they repressed him and killed his supporters for 30 years, but he's here and he won't stop fighting, with love and grace and dedication. It's amazing.

Tombs of old Masters at Tu Hieu temple

Hue is home to Tu Hieu, which is Thay's root temple. It's in the middle of the jungle, wet and crumbling and beautiful. He was here 64 years ago as a novice monk, he was 16 and he embarked on his path from this very place. I love it, I really do. He leads walking meditation and tea cermonies with unfettered joy here, you can see how much he loves being home. Still, the conservative sides of Buddhist tradition in Vietnam, the ones that abandoned Thich Nhat Hanh and his message when it became too radical and too dangerous to their hierarchy, they are very strong in this region. Everyone is feeling a little on edge about it, even thought this is Thay's true home. A nun friend told me that every one of the monastics is focusing their energy on slowly transforming their elders trough example and practice. Such a complex system for such a simple message.

Thay and his children, pure joy

I am in great spirits right now. I was having a lot of trouble feeling settled in Saigon -- the pollution, the stares, the anger -- but Hue is much clearer. My roommate and I were also at odds, but I actually found the power in myself in confront her about it and we talked and she really listened to my difficulties, and we were able to come to a real understanding. I'm sorry if I'm gushing about something very small, but this is a really incredible moment for me. I've never had such clear and open communication over anger and misunderstanding. I'm actually growing. And I feel lighter, I feel more capable. I feel love.

Monk feeding dogs

Also, there's a french boy, Unai, here with his parents, and he made friends with a Vietnamese orphan at Tu Hieu. They've been spending all their time together even though they don't even come close to speaking the same language, and it's really wonderful to see. Taking turns on the french boy's gameboy. Whacking a basketball back and forth with huge sticks of bamboo. Playing with stray dogs. Like a corny movie, I can't help but Awwwwww all over the place.

Unai and his friend

And otherwise, I'm still enjoying fruit, long walks through the city, cheap-everything, and the prospect of travel to come. I'll be done with this part of my trip (following Thich Nhat Hanh, that is) by the end of the week, and heading to Thailand, Singapore, and Cambodia not long after. Friends and friends of friends to visit, volunteer work, back-packing, sight-seeing! Ah, my happiness is abound. I'm free.

Mosaic dragon

I love you all, hope you and yours are absolutely terrifically happy.

Until Next Time, "Those eight days (the Tet offensive) were a turning experience for me. Seeing so much death and despair, I learned that we must resist war at any price. Once a war gets started, it has a momentum and intensity that are very hard to stop."
- Sr. Chan Khong, Learning True Love (READ THIS BOOK!)

Return to Saigon: the great requiem ceremonies

This photo was taken on the down low...

Cigarette-smoking monk

So I'm back in Saigon! We returned on the 14th, had the 15th for rest (and some crazy Asian ass-kicking massage!), and jumped straight into the Great Requiem Ceremonies on the 16th. A few of my friends from Segment 1 left on the 15th, I've been very sad to see them go. It's been like starting all over again. But it's also quite the practice. Helping me to focus on my meditation and personal awareness.

Chanting and crowd

Anyway, the ceremonies! BIG, long, hot, intense. Some crazy Vietnamese chanting and prayer. Thay's dharma talks were really powerful, though. Really deeply delving into impermanence and transformation. The dead never leave us, they only change form, they are not manifested physically but they are still with us. It was a beautiful 3-day theme. I still have so much trouble swallowing my cynicism when it comes to those other-worldly theories, but I'm starting to see that they're really much less other-worldly than I originally thought.

Bridge to the Dead at nightfall

The ceremonies were meant to call the dead, the hungry ghosts who have not found peace since the war, to this place and allow them to find peace. We directed them with the lotus-light candles, and encouraged their re-birth in peaceful states through chanting and food offerings.

Candle-lotus vigil

We released these candles into the very fragrant Saigon River
7,000 candle-lit lotuses, floating
I was really worried the whole river would ignite.
(The pollution is palpable)
The most powerful thing was the sheer volume of Vietnamese people in attendance. Thousands of people, chanting and praying and grieving. I still have grasped the enormity of it.

Food offerings to the Buddha and a monastic procession

I don't have too much to say, I guess. Catch-up day, rested all morning, heading into town for shopping and dinner in a few minutes.

Saigon feels like...

This city is crazy.

Fo reals.

Until Next Time, "We know that hell exists everywhere in the world. We vow to practice in order to not create more hells."

Alms Round

Right now I'm on a website called Jetstar. I'm finding too many SEAsian flights under US$50. It's too hard. How on earth is a person supposed to continue functionning when they can go EVERYWHERE for so CHEAPLY? How can a person concentrate? How can a person breathe? (Then again, "The airline does not guarantee that it will be able to carry you and your Baggage in accordance with the date and time of the flights specified. Schedules may change and flights may be delayed or cancelled for a range of reasons including but not limited to bad weather, air traffic control delays, strikes, technical disruptions, network changes and late inbound aircraft (refer to section 8.1 of the Conditions of Carriage for more information)." HAH! Accident waiting to happen. I'm in.)

The following is a bit that I wrote yesterday (March 11) but didn't get to post at that time.



Today was the Alms Round in Bao Loc. Anyone need back story? In the time of the Buddha, all monks and nuns had one meal per day, and it was food gathered by begging local villagers for donations. A few Buddhist traditions still operate this way. However, it is customary to have a celebratory Alms Round every so often, where the monks and nuns carry their bowls around town collecting food in great abundance, later giving most of it to poor and needy families in the area.

Line of nuns

The Alms round today, led by Thay in a black highlander (The Buddha-mobile), was just crazy! 2,000 monks and nuns, walking the streets in a line being mobbed by old women, children, and families with toothpaste, medicine, sweet treats, yoghurt, fruit, the traditional 'rice wrapped in a banana leaf with seasame salt.' It was so powerful and jubilant!

The throng of people, the monks inside

The Western lay delegation stood on the sidelines with the Vietnamese locals, we helped to collect the unbelievable excess of food from the monks and nuns who passed and stuff it in army sacks for later donations.

The crowd

We also played with small children and had our pictures taken by the locals. They love taking our picture. My friends Brant and Ray are both 6'4'' -- they're GIANTS here in Asia. People are always running up to them and measuring themselves. They wave their palms over their heads and match them up with the middle of Brant's forearm. It's pretty hilarious, how novel they become.

Big Brant, little baby.

Baby monks on parade, little tiny children giving donations in order to "collect merit." Fantastic.

Hello, baby monk.

At the end of the day, we met at Ao Quang temple to eat together, the monastics, the Western lay delegation, and a delegation of monks and nuns from Korea!! They're passing through to say "Hey" to Thay! He spoke to them in Korean! I'm sorry, the little Korean in me just died.

Thay!

-- End yesterday, re-commence real time --

We've had lots of free time at home/the hotel because of monastic-only events at the monastery. HOT, sleepy, lots of ice cream and fruit, chocolate, a wonderful book, card games, fortune telling, goofy stories. It's been really lovely, lots of time with people (relatively) close to my own age and happy to be here. However, most of them are leaving on Wednesday or Thursday. And then I start all over, making friends. It's really a downer.

But I have made friends! And we will find each other on the path, someday.

Anyway, it's dinner time, I gotta get a move on. Making travel plans! Info to come.

Until Next Time, smile.

This is it, real life

Monks watching monks playing soccer!

The 5-day lay retreat was a wonderful gift. I hardly expected such intense practice! And so many people! Upwards of 7,000 Vietnamese retreatants from all around this area. You'd think it would be chaos, right? 7,000 people on a few green acres? How on earth could a couple hundred monks and nuns keep 7,000 people meditative and quiet for five days in 90 degree heat? Good questions, all. But it was incredible. These people are truly devoted. 3,000 people could cram into the meditation hall for Thay's dharma talks, and the rest would sprawl on the steps and the lawn outside. He was so inspiring, so down to earth. He brought the practice of mindfulness and compassion to a real world audience, to people who are very far from him and who need peace more than most. He was very direct. Of course, it was wonderful just to be there with them, experiencing his presence for the first time. We did a lot of communication work, loving speech and deep listening. It's amazing how simple happiness can be. It brought me much deeper in my own awareness, closer to something solid and ready. I don't know if that can be explained, but it's really extraordinary.

Eating Mangos!

Of course, there were other very good and very bad things about the retreat. To start, 7,000 people in close quarters pass colds like wildfire. I was moderately ill with local bacteria/intestinal issues, which are common and unpleasant for westerners arriving in SEAsia, and I battled a cold for a few days. Coughing, sneezing, runny nose, general exhaustion. The days are long! Up at 5:30, maybe a nap after lunch, not home to bed until 8:30 or 9pm. But I've rested since then, today in particular, so no harm done. I got to sleep until 7:30 today! What a gift! ;-)

Me in my hammock

Good things? My hammock! The Western lay delegation received army surplus hammocks as a gift from the monastics, they're incredible! I love it! Cool, comfortable, portable. Took a little while to learn how to set them up, but I'm a pro now, baby! And the scenery couldn't be better. On a particularly tired day, I bought a mango and a loaf of bread, and had lunch in my hammock next to the waterfall before falling asleep for a few hours. I swear, it's paradise.

Joy!

Also, for dharma discussion groups, I was lucky enough to be included in a bi-lingual, multi-cultural, youth exchange extravaganza! A large group of monks, nuns, Vietnamese, and westerners under 30 (or so), discussing our experiences and challenges. It was really interesting. The Vietnamese young people were really slow to share at first, really hesitant. They said that "sharing" is not a part of their culture, it's not something they're used to. But after just a few minutes on the first day they were really in it. Allowing us to share their suffering and be a part of their journey. Plus, we played fun energy games and goofy challenges. Stuff I haven't done since summer camp or before, but everyone could shout and laugh, Vietnamese or english. Whoo!

Wheelbarrow monks!

But yesterday!! I can't even begin to describe the joy from yesterday's adventure! Hah! Okay, the plan for the day was: visit schools. Plum Village has funded the construction, staffing, and supplying of 1,000+ schools in the whole of Vietnam. That's a million dollar charity organization. Yesterday, we visited nine of them. These are real schools, with real kids and real teachers. Just single room, no-frills buildings. Some have desks, some have chalkboards. No books, no toys. But they're clean, and they're built! The kids get one fully rounded, nutritious meal per day. They're cared for. Our first stop was a tribal village where most of the inhabitants weren't even speaking Vietnamese. Something else entirely. But we got to interact a little, I ended up playing tag with 40+ six- and seven-year-olds. you should've seen the smiles! It made me so happy, just interacting so closely with them. Not something I got to do for the rest of the day really. It felt like I was playing with my brothers. Completely natural.

The kids! (I’m on the left)

We continued to visit small, relatively local schools by bus until lunch when we had to switch to smaller vans. The group shrank a little, but we were off into the bush! Really bumpy dirt road, red and dusty. It was HOT, mid-afternoon, and the drive was long. We saw a few really beautiful pre-schools along the way, such children!

Pre-school, 18 months to 3 years

But the real adventure began in the jungle. No more plumbing, no more pavement, no more cars of any kind! Of course, as we’re driving, a nun turns to me and says, “You know, this road gets completely unsurpassable when it rains. Turns into nothing but mud. The tires can’t move at all. Hey, look it’s raining in the distance!” And you should’ve seen the clouds overhead. So, naturally, it rained. Cats and dogs. Torrential, tropical, southeast-asian rain, for about 35 minutes. We were completely frozen in a muddy river the whole time, tucked in our little monastic van. People passed around boiled peanuts and rice cakes and purified water. It was a beautiful storm, and it felt like a fever breaking, the heat and humidity just dropped. As soon as the rain slowed, Sister Chan Khong (the one and only! I mentioned her before. This woman has LIVED!) said “Alright, let’s go, the kids are waiting for us!” Our poor driver got us as far as he could, which was about a kilometer farther than the original location. We left the other two vans behind (poor guys, they waited for us there for two hours! I happened to be on the bus with Sister Chan Khong, luck of the draw…). Sister said, “Can’t drive any further, we walk!” And jumped out the fan. Crazy lady. There were about 12 of us in the van with her, all told. The sky had cleared by this point, and all the dusty vegetation had been rinsed clean and was almost glowing with color. Muddy red earth, big gray sky. It was so beautiful.

Landscape

So we were off! The walk was long and sticky. I almost lot a shoe at one point, so ended up going barefoot in the red mud. It was cool and fresh. Rain smells like rain everywhere! Local kids in blue and red uniforms were whizzing by us on motorbikes. After a little while, a man on a motorbike came by and asked us if we needed a hand. Sister Chan Khong was all about it! This 80 year old Vietnamese rock star just tucked up her robes and was off. It was FANTASTIC.

Sister Chan Khong on a motor bike!

The rest of us walked up and down muddy hills, through the Vietnamese brush. It felt like The Things They Carried, In Pharoah’s Army, I’m not kidding. Coffee plants taller than men. Little kids were walking with us by this point, the middle-school aged ones in uniform, and they’d peel off on little tiny paths every so often, presumably to their homes, hidden among the plantlife and mist.

Rural Vietnam and bikers

The school was much like the others. It was beautiful though, the people were so grateful to have us there, that we’d come all the wayfrom town. Most of them had never in their lives gone that far. It was the most wonderful group of people. We couldn’t bring the gifts for the children all the way out, they were still in one of the other vans. But a few people had crackers, someone had a brick of cheese, and they were all dumped into one of the cone hats and passed around to the children, who ate with joy. It was really beautiful. One of the poorest areas that Plum Village supports, but these people were happy, functioning people. They don’t need plumbing or cars to live. Not at all. Not even close.

Baby monks on bikes

That’s what I’ve learned. The third world is not suffering because it lacks for anything. These populations, tribal cillages, rural communities, are suffering when modern civilizations build gross production factories and pay their staff nothing. When they invade for land and agricultural resources. When they force these peoples to evolve and change, but don’t give them the time or the materials to do so. That’s what causes unhappiness, strife, extinction. It’s terrible, what our world can do. We’re all just people, living differently. I’m learning, anyway.

Fat Happy Buddha

And today I’ve been thinking back, relaxing, writing postcards. I’ve got enough energy to sustain me, I need a lot less sleep than I did at home. I haven’t figured out why yet, but I think it’s because I’m not dragging myself down with negativity so much anymore. I’m opening up, I’m finding apologies and forgivenesses, I’m breathing deeply.

I do, I love it here.

Until Next Time, "Anger is a mental formation. It is an energy. Mindfulness is also an energy. Think of your anger as a baby that is crying. First, you must hold that baby to calm it down, just take care of its pain. Then, you can look deeply into its source. Your anger is a child. Your mindfulness is its mother