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Sunday
Feb212010

No cars today

Greetings,

Today is Sunday. It is the quiet second day of Chinese New Year. 

I pedal my bike into Siem Reap for iced coffee. It's cold and delicious. Men play chess slapping wooden pieces while talking, gesticulating at high decibels. Kick boxers on a screen pummel each other with knees and gloves and violent fury to the endless delight of invisible millions. 

Idle men with their backs to the river sit in the shade of empty white tourist vans waiting for business. 

I pedal across a bridge over a wide brown river bisecting the town. I go to a car wash business with a small restaurant. I discovered this place one day by chance. The woman owner is pleasant and happy. She has high cheekbones. She is pregnant with her second child. She employes four kitchen kids and six for the car wash. 

Her husband is a driver. He sleeps in a green net hammock. His wife plays cards with all the workers. They cannot afford to go home to see family.

Usually the car wash business is busy with two high open raised bays for cars. 

Today it is empty. I eat a simple meal of wide egg noodles, carrots, bamboo shoots, pork and eggs.
(Eats, Shoots & Leaves)  amphibology—a verbal fallacy arising from an ambiguous grammatical construction.

One car wash boy lays his one white shirt on the rusty brown cement platform. He wears a brown sarong towel. He scrubs the shirt with a bar of soap. He turns on the high pressure car hose blasting white flying soap from the shirt. He rinses it. 

He does all his laundry. He walks over to a standing metal rack, shakes out his only best shirt and hangs it up. He carefully adjusts the collar, buttoning the top button. He slaps water out of a yellow t-shirt, small towel, another dark shirt and hangs them.

He owns two pairs of long dark pants.  He turns them inside out, putting them on hangers where they will dry quickly in the tropical heat. He disappears behind a green plastic screen to his room for a nap, enjoying his day off. No cars today.

Metta.

  

 

Friday
Feb192010

Mine

Greetings,

Here I am. I communicate my reality to the world. 

Do you like my shirt? Can you read words or do you need a picture? How about a picture of a picture?

I don't know how to read so I like to look at pictures. 

My country has 11.5 million people and maybe 6-10 million mines. Adults say there are 40,000 amputees in my country. Many more have died because we don't have working medical facilities.

Mines are cheap. A mine costs $3.00 to put in the ground and $1,000.00 to take out of the ground. I'm really good at numbers.

Talk to me before you leave trails to explore the forest. It's beautiful and quiet. I know all the secret places.

I showed my picture to a Cambodian man and he didn't like it ;-(

They call this denial. He said it gave him nightmares. So it goes.

My village is my world. Where do you live?

Metta.

Cambodian Land Mine Museum...

Landmines in Cambodia...

Monday
Feb152010

Bike S.E. asia

Greetings,

The girl and her boyfriend from northern California arrived in Siem Reap by bike. No petroleum consumption.

Since December they've covered 2,500 miles through Thailand, Laos - spectacular, mountains, valleys, great roads. Central and southern Vietnam - terrible roads and heavy traffic. Southern Cambodia, delightful.

Advice? Get a good seat. Get a larger tire pump. Carry extra tire valves. 

Spin them wheels. Go.

Metta.

One day in China after escaping the tyranny of school systems.

Saturday
Feb132010

Tiger Voice

Greetings,

Tell me about your future
all laid out in perfect reconciliations 
of existence
overflowing with play, discoveries, exploring your labyrinth
rapacious fluidity,
exercising complexity science
where imagination tells the truth
these days before Chinese New Year
and Mr. Murakami sighs,

"Memory is like fiction, or else it's fiction 
that is like memory. Human existence in absurd activities. 
Right and wrong drop out of the picture. Memory takes over and fiction is born.
It is a perpetual motion machine, tottering through the world,
trailing an unbroken thread over the ground."

It is now the Year of the Tiger
believing their strength, solitary nature, nocturnal way,
running to survive
swimming in deep water
leading you into deep forests
when a shadow spirit named The Other
whispers
"It's time to go, it's time to go."

Metta.

 

Thursday
Feb112010

Passage 

Greetings,

People are more affected by how they feel than by what they understand.

When they met she was anxious. Tall and talking fast. She was in a highly frantic state. She was from Sweden. After a couple of days she calmed down. She had a dream after visiting a temple at Angkor.

She said, "I don't know what I'm running away from. I'm traveling for a month. I just knew I had to leave. Now I don't know what I'm running toward."

"Yes," he said, "one door opens and one door closes but the hallways can be a bitch." She laughed. She felt better releasing her anxiety, her uncertainty by laughing. If only for a moment.

She's been here a week. "A week here," she said, "seems like a month. Now I feel like I can be in the moment. It's hard but I'm working on it. I want to cut all my hair off."

"Nothing like modifying your outward appearance to affect your self-esteem."

Shy Cambodian girls with straight black hair cut off her long blond movie star hair. They treasured her tresses, wrapping it with rubber bands to decorate their hair. 

"I feel better now," she said feeling the searing heat of tropical sun. "I'm going to begin sketching again. I loved to sketch when I was younger. I lost it somewhere. I'm starting again."

Here's one entrance/exit passage.

 

Here's one entrance/exit passage. There is NO EXIT.

Metta.