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Entries in history (135)

Thursday
Jan142010

Banteay Srei, Kbal Spean & Roluos Group

 

Banteay Srei

Greetings,

Angkor Wat is huge. It is the largest spiritual building on Earth. It is a peaceful mixture of Hinduism and Buddhism. This makes it unique among other reasons. It dates from the 9th-13th Century.

Most tourists dash in, around and through spending four days of their very short existence. They get to Angkor Wat to see the sunrise along with hoards. It's a zoo. They visit the high points: Angkor Wat, Angkor Thom, the interior of Bayon and, depending on their time and planning, other temples and areas of interest. 

A day pass runs $20, 3-day pass, $40 and a seven-day pass $60. The week long pass allows visitors the luxury of time (a great wealth) to enjoy the diversity of Angkor during a month. Seven visits in 30 days. I selected this option after visiting The National Museum and various galleries around town to learn about Angkor.

I wanted to go far away. For $25 I hired Pat, a tuk-tuk driver with three kids to feed and we left before dawn. A tuk-tuk is a motorized bike pulling a simple carriage. The air was chilly and refreshing. We reached the main entrance. It resembled a well designed airport immigration section with windows and attendants for the 1-3-7 day tickets. I paid for seven, they took my picture and a girl punched my ticket. Buy a ticket and take the ride. The meter began running.

It ran through deep forests, along empty roads, past forgotten shadows and figures of villagers stoking small red fires for cooking and heat beneath or beside their bamboo or wooden stilt homes. It skirted a long deep reflecting pool at Sras Srang. We stopped for coffee. A brilliant orange ball of flaming gas rose over expansive fields. 

We headed for Banteay Srei, 37 km from town. Objective: get there for early light before multiple buses of tourists.

As I'd witnessed earlier at The Silk Worm Farm, according to my guide there, "The Chinese, Japanese and Korean groups are the worst. They totally destroy the ambiance." Obnoxious Japanese camera idiots posed with a woman and her small boy sitting on the floor chopping kindling. Tourists hid behind dyed silks for funny pictures. They were rude and inconsiderate.

In brief: Srei was built in 987 AD and never a royal temple. Small and intimate, rumored to have been built by women with their fine hands. The carvings of pink sandstone cover much of the temple and the reliefs are deep and beautiful, the most incredible at Angkor. Discovered by the French in 1914, covered by forest and earth.

After Seri we continued north to Kbal Spean. We climbed through forests for 1.5km. This is the source of waters for Angkor and the Siem Reap river. Water flows over 100m of carved sacred lingas and Hindu deities; Vishnu, Shiva and Brahma. The Sanskrit name is Sahasralinga, or "river of a thousand lingas."

Kbal Spean

In the afternoon we headed south and then east of Siem Reap to the Roluos Group, a series of three temples, Bakong, Preah Ko and Lolei, dating from the 8-9th century. Roluos is the pre-Angkor original site. 

Bakong was consecrated in 881AD. The layout follows Mount Meru, five ascending levels, moats, and ten surrounding temples. It was reconstructed from 1936-1942 under the direction of Maurice Glaize, the conservator of Angkor.

Preah Ko, or Paramesvara, "The Supreme God," or Shiva was built in 880 AD. It contains a steele in Sanskrit with an inscription about war, fearsome in battle, flashing swords, and invincibility; a eulogy to Indravarman I.

Lolei, 893 AD. Four brick buildings in poor condition sit on an island above a former reservoir. The lintels, door jambs and inscriptions explaining the construction and divisions of tasks are well preserved.

Srei, Spean and Roluos galleries. Visually articulate.

Metta. 

Thursday
Dec312009

Amazing New Dream!

Greetings,

Wow, seems like just yesterday we were all cruising into the final lap of a decade's year and here we are approaching a new beginning. Fresh senses, a renewal of heart-mind awareness with clear vision and gratitude.

2000-2009. Just a bunch of numbers times 365. Hmm.

Let's see. In 2000, I was living in Hanford, Washington, teaching tennis and writing. On September 1, 2001, I left the states of confusion for six months to live, travel, collect material and write in Morocco and Spain. Then the 9.11 fiasco, debacle, horror. 

I returned in March 2002 living in Eugene, Oregon, teaching and writing a memoir. I received 50, yes 50 beautiful rejection letters from literary agents. They knew a) they couldn't make 15% flogging it to publishers and b) it wasn't mainstream material, so they passed. Ce' la vie.

I shifted focus and energy to working on A Century Is Nothing and moved to Sichuan, China in 2004 to teaching English. By June 2007 it was in manageable shape and I contacted Iuniverse about self-publishing. I moved to Turkey to teach and work on final revisions. It was published in late October.

It was amazing to see the opus slide out of the brown wrapper. Thud! on the Ankara table with the face of the young Chinese girl on the cover. Her eyes held all the secrets of the world. The stories didn't belong to me anymore. They never did. I was just a conduit to bring them into being. A process of discovery and joy.

An amazing decade.

May everyone dance their love, beauty and inner vision free from desire and attachment.

Metta.

   

 

 

Tuesday
Dec292009

Prom Rath Wat

Greetings,

I've been sitting down in Siem Reap for a week and it's delightful after the hysterical hustle of Saigon in particular and Vietnam in general. 

I've been exploring Siem Reap on foot, hearing and speaking with a variety of tourists and travelers and settling into the pace and rhythm. I will visit the Angkor Wat site and multitude of 7th-16th C. history, art and spiritual wonders down the road.

 

An orphan girl at a Christmas party.

Siem Reap population is about 130,000, a far cry from the 8 million in Saigon so you can appreciate the lack of motorcycles, noise and chaos as previously written. There are also 7.99 million fewer hustlers.

Minus small guesthouses and hostels there are approximately 110 hotels and 10,000 beds. Inflated stats say there is a 60% occupancy rate. Tourism is down due to world economics, tighter travel money, and small yet significant regional internal and border troubles. So it goes.

The Angkor National Museum was amazing. An excellent introduction into the Khmer culture. 

Angkor National Museum...

My first Cambodian photography gallery is of Prom Rath Wat, a serene temple complex in Siem Reap. Enjoy.

Metta.

  

 

Saturday
Dec122009

old poem

Greetings,

Seeing or watching 
even blind people see
- the tailor on the Saigon sidewalk feeling threads, 
a needle points magnetic north, true north? Such a question.

evolutionary GPS navigational systems inside his fingers

sharp diabolical edges of conversations
laying out splendid contorted plans
program expectancies 
there is so much we do not 
or will not or cannot know

where the inside is hidden
in the outside inside
 

old black and white portraits 
of grandfathers from 1936 Spanish civil war years 
feast or famine centuries

cover walls 
eating grass soup 
grandmothers doing their white 
crochet handicrafts wearing fingernails 
down to the bone into the lentil soup it goes 
under watchful framed wedding dress prop remembering

how it was running with bulls
beneath grateful gladiolus spilling their blood
for tourist images

a day after climbing sharp stones steps
over valleys buried in mountains
to Cueva de la Pileta caves

seeing, feeling, hearing, touching, tasting, absorbing 27,000 year old Paleolithic paintings  
bison, goats, seal, deer, archers, fish, traps, calendars, stalactites, stalagmite organ music

sweeter than dream time ancestor stories
 
dripping water pure pools
hibernating marsupials species specific  
2,300 bats zooming toward night
 
fires for illumination
no cooking
eat it raw
fertility symbols
even the archaeologists 
do not know 
exactly what they mean
calcium carbonate 
copper and iron 
5 cm of animal fat pigment
traces of fingerprints
pure water

releases itself inside mountain

we took tea
near heavy ripe lemons 
spring flowers struggled toward faint sun 
crying words 
sharing silence
pink and white petals dancing in a clear blue sky

Metta.

 

Monday
Dec072009

Myth's Mask

 

Shaman's mask, Vietnam.

Greetings,

People here love to look back. It is a passion. It is a genetic molecule of fear, doubt and uncertainty. Perhaps also just a plain childish innocent curiosity of wanting the past, needing.

Yes. Focus on needs, not wants. Needs manifesting their desire. A desire for a ghost. We are all passing through. 

They look back to see if they see, yes, in their vivid reptilian imagination a ghost. Their ghost. A ghost from a family, friend, lost. Looking for clues at their personal ground zero. 

They've arrived from distant galaxies. Human habitation sites were discovered here 500,000 years ago. Primitive agriculture began 7,000 years ago. A. Go. 

So it figures, accepting an evolutionary premise, their DNA star chart continues its genetic dance today. 

I live in talking monkey zones. They eat rice. They drink water. They wash one set of clothing and hang it out to dry on poles. They burn down the forest. They harvest brooms. Their shamans bring rain. Tropical downpours allow people the luxury to wash cars. 

They use their faint star energy to look, not really seeing, behind them wondering, all the wondering. 

Food is cheap here. Medicine and education is expensive. This has nothing to do with simians. It has nothing to do with the two women sitting in a dark neighborhood food joint. Plastic chairs faces a tall cinder block wall. Chickens, goats and cats prowl, peck and forage through garbage and dreams.

One woman sits quietly in a deep meditation. Her friend parts her hair gently, looking for minute insects, cleaning her scalp. They take turns cleaning and inspecting. This genetic behavior is being repeated in zoos, jungles, and rain forests.

Chattering oral story tellers play Bronze Age drums, pounding out 3rd century tunes.

Healing the people with music.

 


Males wash their little toy machines. They study the accumulated grime under long yellow curling fingernails. They play chess along the road waiting for passengers. People eat spicy rice mixed with tofu, chicken, veggies, and green and red chillies.

One human creates a brave new world. Forging new futures with a patriotic purpose. An assessment on process in a data based star cluster.


Dream mask mirror and swimming...

She showed me how to swim with gigantic sea turtles and practice sitting.

How to dive deep exploring coral and amazing underwater life forms. How to explore below the surface of appearances.

Experiencing the Temple of Complete Reality on a Taoist mountain in Sichuan once upon a time. Climbing through primal forests with young mature smart Mountain-Nature Girl. She lives in the mountain. Some live below. Others live on. She lives in. She knows every herb, plant, flower, tree, river and medicinal process in the forest.

Mountain-Nature girl with Vivian.

How the heartbeat was an eternal rhythm.

Then we were going up. Now we are going down.

How to breath through a mask. "What kind of mask? Is it hand carved from the wood of tribal memories?" I asked her. 

"Yes," she said, "it is a manifestation of long lost symbols, a primitive culture. It is a shamanic ritual, a dance trance. When you put on the mask you become the thing you fear the most, your basic human nature."

"Does this mean I will evolve into a being filled with the ability to scheme and deceive?"

"Perhaps. This is a highly evolved trait of human intelligence. Do you remember what you wrote about J. Joyce, how he went into exile with silence and cunning?"

"Yes. He knew how to put seven little words in order. He was a cunning linguist."

"Well, this ability to scheme and deceive is your cunning, your instinctual learned behavior. It separates you from less evolved life forms like apes, plankton and sea enemies-anemone (fish eating animals) and androgynous androids in the deep subconscious."

"Are you a clown fish?"

"Look in your dream mask mirror."

Play your drum music.

Metta.