A Few Unfortunate Events

March 28 & 29. The schedule for the next 3 days consisted of nothing but climbing the sides of enormous mountains until our fingers were blistered and our feet were raw from our cramped shoes. We met Adam and Dane on the morning of the 28^th outside Sunny Lodge. Adam pulled up in his small Nissan and the idea that he would fit 5 people and our luggage into the car. None of us were looking forward to the 4 hour drive to Kunming. As we shoved our bodies, bags, and sulky attitudes into the car, we noticed a slight dip in the level of the car. When I turned to look out the window I noticed the back right tire was completely flat. That was the first sign that this would be a good day.

We spent nearly an hour trying to change the tire, but it turned out to be the most inconvenient tire in existence, because we couldn’t pull it off the car after we had unscrewed it. In the end, Adam took it to a shop, leaving us on the curb for the next hour and a half. Some of the things a bunch of guys talk about while sitting on a curb are absurd and hilarious. I’m not saying it was profane, but it was entertaining.

We ended up walking to the shop anyway and, with a new tire, drove for the next few hours to Kunming, a journey that surpassed my uncomfortable expectations. I tried to doze off during the day, but was constantly awoken by a jerk of the car as Adam weaved through traffic, which how most Chinese citizens drive. 4 hours later we arrived in Kunming, but our day of misfortune was not yet over. As Adam pulled into a parking spot he slammed right into a car approaching from his rear. The other driver stormed out of his car, livid, and started shouting at Adam. Adam shouted back in a similar manner and they both began to compare the damage of their cars, which turned out to be nonexistent. Both cars were unscratched, but that did not deter the other driver from yelling at Adam and forcing him to stay put while he called the police. Not wanting to get involved, Erik, David, and I went into the restaurant where we planned to meet Leung.

An hour later, Adam arrived in the restaurant explaining that all the other driver wanted was money from a foreigner. The police saw how ludicrous the situation was at once, and sped on their way, but not before the other driver became desperate enough to yank off part of his own front bumper in an attempt to display any sign of damage to the car. Yet another fine example of local Chinese citizens trying to take advantage of tourists.

The next day proved to be a slightly better day, but not by much. We planned to rock climb one last time before David and Erik left for Tanzania (they are leaving earlier than expected and I will be left with Leung until the 31^st). We traveled to a ravine with great climbing routes, and I tried my hand at climbing a 5-10A, which supposedly was long thought to the extent of the human limit of rock climbing before someone proved that humans could climb more challenging routes. I didn’t break once. However, my hands were utterly useless afterwards and I didn’t dare climb again because I still had one more day to enjoy.

We ate dinner in Kunming again, but this time we ate locally, for it was David and Erik’s last Chinese meal before Tanzania. We ate greasy potato pancakes, smelly tofu (which is its real name), and soggy vegetables with rice. Afterwards, Erik had time to hang out in our hotel before setting out to the airport. During this time we reminisced about our last 2 months together. We had not done this in a long time and it brought back wondrous memories, as well as a lump as sadness. I said goodbye to David and Erik after an hour of chatting, but I was too exhausted to feel that this was really goodbye. I had become close to Erik, but I doubt I will miss him too much in my next month. We didn’t have too much in common, although he was a great friend and an impeccable story teller. David, I will see again, because he lives an hour away from my home town. Quite convenient, don’t you think? So, without the heavy weight of loss in my heart, which had haunted me almost exactly 1 month ago, I fell into a peaceful sleep that night.

Thanks so much to everybody who has been posting comments on my blog. I have heard from a few followers that it is difficult to post comments due to Blogger’s settings and I apologize for this inconvenience. I hope you are still enjoying keeping up to date with my travels as much as I enjoy experiencing them. I also posted new pictures to my Picasa album. Hope you enjoy them as well!

Climb Dali

March 26 & 27. Now I’m starting to enjoy the continuous activities being planned for these last 2 weeks, which was what I had become accustomed to last month. We met with Adam and Dane, our rock climbing guides, at Adam’s house in Dali. It was only a 10 minute walk from Sunny Lodge, but after dragging a luggage bag packed with 4 months of clothing and materials through cramped, windy streets, I would consider it more of a hike. 

Adam, who lives in Dali with his wife and son, owns a rock climbing company called “Climb Dali”. Dane agreed to accompany him on this trip, although he doesn’t usually work for Adam. Both being expert and enthusiastic climbers, they wasted no time in fitting us with climbing shoes as soon as we arrived. Then we picked up some provisions for lunch (mostly peanut butter and bread) and packed into a taxi van.

The ride was only an hour long to Saoang and we were soon setting down our things in the hostel that we would be staying in tonight. Adam led the away from the hostel, trekking from the streets of Saoang to the trails on the surrounding mountain. As the bright, blood colored dirt was kicked up into my face, I turned my head and studied the surroundings. The trees had been replaced by rough, desert bush and cacti and instead of locals staring curiously at my pale figure, cows were munching on grass as their bells rattled against their hides. This mountain was significantly different from the mountain I had climbed in Dali, almost an exact opposite.

When we finally reached the ridge we would be climbing, Adam and Dane laid down the supplies and handed us harnesses. As we slid them and our climbing shoes on, Adam and Dane climbed the first ride to set up the anchors for the climb. The first one was extremely easy for Adam, who had not only climbed it almost 150 times, but had discovered and cleaned the route as well. He stated it was a good warm-up run, which was lucky for me because I hadn’t done any serious climbing since I was around 12 or 13. In fact, Adam told me, with an air of modesty and pride, that he had discovered and cleaned the entire ridge, totaling in about 50 routes.

So I was the first to climb the beginner route, but I found that it wasn’t difficult at all. It was more or less like climbing an indoor rock climbing wall and the climbing shoes made it that much easier. Their rubber traction allowed me to place my foot on the tiniest holds and stand their comfortably. While Erik belayed me, Dane and Adam set up a couple more routes for us. They all turned out to be relatively easy, but they were progressively more difficult. Some had a few difficult holds and others had ridges that you needed to climb up at a 150 degree angle, but there were several rest spots. When I repelled down on my last climb, I noticed that my knees were cut in several places and my fingers were numb with pain. I hadn’t even noticed my discomfort during the concentration of my 5 climbs.

We took a break after that, intent on eating our fill of peanut butter, bread, and apples. During this lazy period, I watched Adam climb a 5-11a route with awe (Dane described the grading system to me during our hike up the mountain). He placed his hands such unlikely holds and continuously lodged his feet in the smallest of cracks and juts. At one point he was almost directly upside down, climbing with all his strength and skill. As I watched him put one leg over another, I spotted a hold that looked dangerously crumbly. I was just about to warn him not to grab onto it when he lunged out and grasped the hold. It immediately shattered in an explosion of red rock and Adam fell towards the earth. Dane’s reflexes and superior experience was the only thing that saved Adam from death. He bounced literally 6 inches from the ground, but, thankfully, never made contact. Adam tried this route again, and when he finally reached the top, he came up with an appropriate name for the route: 6 inches from 6 feet under. That, I thought, clearly stated just how dangerous climbing can be. After all our fingers were nearly bleeding with the pain of climbing, we headed back down to the village for a dinner readily prepared at the hostel, a warm, welcoming shower, a wooden bed, and a roommate who snored relentlessly through the night.

The next day was one that I was not looking forward to. Although we did enjoy a kayaking adventure that occupied most of the morning, Christen left in the afternoon and the only other enjoyable part of the day was when I made the most of my last night in Dali. We went kayaking in groups of 3s and didn’t finish until noon. By far, the funniest part of the day was Leung teetering into his kayak (which he had never done before) until he sat, became situated by shifting his forcibly weight, and made the kayak flip completely upside down, which left him struggling under water. Thankfully, he was a capable swimmer and came up sputtering and shivering. He refused to continue after that.

Our car ride back to Dali wasn’t fun. We crammed into the largest van ­­­­­­­Saoang could provide, and even that was too small to occupy 7 people, 5 bags of luggage, and 7 backpacks. My afternoon in Dali was spent walking around with David and Christen, just making the most of the time left before we all parted our separate ways. All too soon, Christen was saying her goodbyes and I was telling her that I would see her back home. Leung took her to Kunming, which left Erik, David, and I to fend for ourselves for the next 24 hours.

We ate beef steaks at Café De Jack, ordering our favorite meal at our favorite western restaurant. Then we came back to Sunny Lodge, where Erik was forced to organize our receipts for the last month. Wanting to spend my time doing something, and because the prospect of doing nothing was unbearable, I suggested to David that we meet up with a few of the people we had met earlier at the Café. Probably because he was too exhausted, or because he was pondering his next month in Tanzania, David refused to accompany me. That didn’t deter me from going out however. I took a taxi to the café, which took longer than I thought because it is extremely difficult to use proper mandarin (all provinces have their own versions of mandarin) to explain where you are trying to go.

I arrived and hung out with everybody until most were forced to say goodnight due to their studies tomorrow morning. All except Amanda and me were left. She is 18 and doesn’t have a curfew, so we went out to Dali and spent the most of the night talking and playing pool at the Sunny Lodge. When Amanda finally said she had to leave, I walked back to the room, but found that it was empty. I peered through the window of my room and saw David and Erik dancing in the bar of the Sunny Lodge. Smiling to myself, and half wishing I was 18 so I could join them, I slipped into bed and fell asleep, probably with that same silly grin spread on my face.

Loss of Composure

March 24 & 25. I know I could stay here for 30 years and still not know everything about Kong Fu, the monk lifestyle, and the monastery itself. There is a plethora of knowledge to be gained here. It is so vast that sometimes I need to stop and calm the violent currents of information buzzing in my head. Learning Kong Fu is more about increasing and maintaining your balance than increasing your fighting skills. Although I’m sure it does help in self-defense, I doubt that if you displayed the different forms of Kong Fu in front of an opponent that he would be running away in fear by the end of the routine. During my last full day of lessons I gave it my all and pushed my muscles and strength to the limit, which seemed to impress the master, but it also made me thoroughly exhausted by the end of the day. I fell asleep at 7:30 that night, intending to take a well-earned nap, but instead I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next day I was forced to take Tylenol in order to cope with the pain of walking. I had never felt more worn out in my life. I started the morning run early, intent on regaining some of the energy needed to get me through the half-day of Kong Fu. I chose a smaller rock than I ever had, now trying to preserve the energy I had just gained. When I arrived back at the temple I practiced every position I had been taught so far. By the time I had finished my routines, Master had come back from his run and he was ready to teach me additional steps in Kong Fu.

Then came the blissful sound of our cook banging on the breakfast bell. I was delighted to see the layout of the enormous sweet dumplings when I walked through the dining room door. I concentrated on nothing but eating my way through 5 of the heavenly treats. Afterwards, I slumped back upstairs and massaged my legs before the next round of exercise.

The next 2 hours of stretching went by in a hazy blur. I only remember following exactly what everyone else was doing. Wasting energy to even think would have been detrimental to my stretching, and Master must have guessed as much because he ended today’s session earlier. We had an hour to spare before lunch. I amused myself by playing with the kids on the outside exercise ground. There, we climbed trees and hung upside down from their pull-up bars. At one point they made a small ramp, where they would launch themselves off the ground and perform flips and kicks in the air. They tried every variation of their flips they could think of; they once wore pink glasses pretending to be airplane pilots, another time they held a stick and tried to draw a circle in the ground while doing a no handed cartwheel, and they even made me sit near the ramp before flipping clear over my head.

During lunch I was able to converse with everybody more than I had done during breakfast. This was our last meal before leaving the monastery, so I hungrily gobbled up every scrumptious morsel I could reach. Immediately after lunch Leung and Erik arrived in the taxi to pick us up. We were just about to say goodbye to Master when he stopped us and said “We must take pictures!” Leading us off to the outside terrace, he made us perform several poses in Kong Fu while he snapped away happily. Erik and Leung watched with grins on their faces, obviously amused to see Master so enthusiastic. Then we were allowed one picture with Master, the only picture we were ever able to get of him because he never allowed us before. It is strictly enforced to make sure the foreigners take one picture with Master and none of any other monks. It is also customary to not smile during these photos, but I couldn’t resist. While Christen and David stood beside him unsmiling, I stood in the back of the photo and grinned broadly as I put up surfer signs.

We said our goodbyes to Master and were just about to enter the van when I remembered something and ran back to the temple. I wanted to say one last goodbye to the monk children. I entered their room and narrowly missed a ninja star that was thrown towards the wall. They all laughed and yelled “Mi Ji!!!” (they flip the two words in my Chinese name sometimes). I said goodbye to each of them, but then one kid (who I nicknamed Godzilla) pulled out my camera and said “Picture!” I was stunned by his proposal, but nevertheless took the opportunity. I snagged a quick picture with them, although they barely cracked a smile during the photo, and ran back to the van.

We arrived back at the Sunny Lodge in Old Dali to spend the night there. I have already bought souvenirs and I have wandered almost every street in the town, so I doubt I will be going out anytime soon. I plan on relaxing in the sun and reading for most of the afternoon and maybe taking a shower (after not being able to take one after nearly 5 days). One thing is for certain, however. I am indefinitely inhaling a beef steak tonight.

Weapons of Flesh and Steel

March 23. I started the morning with another glorious session of bell ringing and chanting. I curled up in the sanctuary of my covers and blasted music through my headphones in the hope of drowning out the noise. However, it was in vain. I could still feel the bell’s vibrations in my chest and it distracted me from my sleep. Groaning, I stood up and was immediately hit by a wave of pain. Every muscle in my body ached. They protested my slightest movements and I was forced to sit back down and massage the will to move into my body. I tried for a second time and to my relief the pain had receded slightly, yet was still ever present.

My morning run went well enough until, due to the urging of my Master, I carried a larger rock on my head than yesterday. It made my neck muscles burn more than ever and my head throbbed when I finally lay down the small boulder. Then, during the 30 minutes before breakfast, we were taught new segments of Kong Fu. It all seems to come together after a while and I become confused at times between one position and the next. Though, with plenty of practice, I’m sure I’ll be able to memorize them.

I devoured the breakfast of noodles, onions, carrots, and tofu. Again, I wasn’t disappointed, mainly due to the replacement of meat with tofu. I’m sure if the tofu was anything less than the quality it is now, I would be praying to Buddha to send me a steak. After breakfast we performed our stretches and various exercises. Even after one day I am able to remember most of the exercising positions, although I couldn’t execute them as vigorously as before. My muscles still shot a jolt of pain through my body during kicks and cartwheels. During this session I kept glancing over at one of the monk children who stood resolutely still with a 30 pound rock on his head. He constantly looked forward and his eyes never wandered. He stood as still as a statue for the entire 3 hours. I asked one of the other children what he was doing and his answer was short and contained copious amounts of disapproval. “His punishment for insulting Master.” He said. I didn’t inquire further on the subject.

Lunch was short today because I was still full from breakfast, but I still sat and waited for at least one person to finish their meal. Ella, a foreigner of about 21 years old, was the first to be finished and, following the rules of etiquette, we said “R Me Tofo.” to the Master and left together. After washing our bowls, Ella asked me if I wanted to see the rest of the temple. “There’s more than just this?” I asked as I gestured to our surroundings. Nodding, she led me outside and we walked about the property. There were several paths leading in almost every direction and she led me down the first one on the right. We came to a pond with a large blank, white wall except for a border of decorations and a single picture in the middle. Then we walked to a field for practicing Tai Chi and Kong Fu in the summer. From there she led me to the Master’s house, which was exceptionally decorated with gardens of beautiful spring flowers. Finally, we came to the main temple. I had suspected that the temple we resided in was the main one, but apparently not. The golden characters labeled it as such and the enormous golden statue that resided inside reinforced the fact. It was a gorgeous area. Even the temples shown in movies couldn’t compare with this one.

We passed the time talking and comparing stories of our travels until it was time to continue our training. I learned several more positions of Kong Fu. I wondered how many more positions were involved in it, because if there are several more than I doubt I will be able to memorize it in 5 days. The ones we had learned now almost took 5 minutes to complete. I politely asked Master to perform this segment of Kong Fu. He completed it in roughly a minute with incredibly fluid, yet powerful movements. I couldn’t even keep track of which positions he was doing, but it seemed as if we weren’t too far away from the end. Then we finished our training with stretches and push-ups (which they do with their fists here).

I was ravenous during dinner and ate everything in my bowl including all the leftovers on the table. Afterwards, Ella and her family had to leave for the next leg of their journey and I said my farewells to them all. Then, as I wandered around aimlessly for something to do, I ran into several of the monk children and they brought me into their room to talk about America. I was surprised to learn that they knew of Batman, Superman, Spiderman, Hulk, Transformers, and most every other superhero or action character I had grown up with. Hit with a spark of inspiration, I ran to my room and grabbed my iphone, some chocolate, and the ninja star. I first handed them the chocolate (although, just to make sure, I asked if they were vegans and they stated that they ate meat), which they loved and ate with a gleam of pleasure in their eyes. Then I gave them my ninja star, insisting that they keep it. It wasn’t very sharp and it could probably be of more use here. I also witness them practicing with swords so I think they can be cautious with the star. Then I let them play a racing game on my iphone. Taking turns, they played for almost 2 hours and refused to stop until my battery had burned out. I don’t mind however, it’s probably better that I don’t have it here. When darkness fell and they were forced to perform their ceremonies, I headed back to my room where I am now. Reflecting on the day, I decided it was definitely one of the top 10 days of my life, despite my aching muscles and the guilt of giving a weapon to a few 13 year olds.

Through the Halls of Buddha

March 22. *Dong* I jolted upright, delirious and alarmed. *Dong* Then the singing started and I looked out my window. *Dong* A monk garbed in blue robes was chanting and hammering a large bell with a log. *Dong* This must be the wakeup call I thought. *Dong*But as I looked outside, I reasoned that it must still be early. *Dong* Looking at my watch I saw that it was 5am! *Dong* Our morning run didn’t start until 6:30am. I crawled back into bed wanting another hours rest. *Dong*I never got back to sleep.
After counting down the seconds until 6:30, I finally stumbled out into the courtyard for the run. It was still indistinctly dark and I required a flashlight to get around this early. Dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, we began our run out into the road. Most of the monks were running today, though I noticed several other foreigners running with us. All were women and their ages varied from around 21 to 55, yet they were all impressively agile. The run wasn’t an arduous one. We jogged for possibly 5 minutes before coming to a dried out river. A monk I had been running with picked up a large boulder and, with great, unexpected strength, put it atop his head where it balanced there. Without hesitation, he began to walk back up the road towards the temple. I was left gaping at the back of him. I chose my own rock, although it was smaller than his neck breaking bolder, and began to walk back to the temple as well. I slipped a few times, but generally the rock stayed balanced during its journey. I followed the line of monks balancing rocks atop their heads until they came to the temple, then they veered downhill to a neatly made rock path. They placed their heavy rocks in a precise pattern in order to form a walkway down the hill. I tried to place mine, but one monk took it from me, though not unkindly, and placed it himself. Then, stretching my neck muscles, I ran back up to the temple.
At the temple’s large front doors, we met the Master of Kong Fu and Tai Chi. He bowed and said “R Me Tofo.” We all responded with a bow and returned his “R Me Tofo.” (This was stated in the etiquette guide). He introduced himself as “Master” and we haven’t received a name beyond that. Speaking in decent English, he asked if we would rather practice Kong Fu or Tai Chi during our stay. The 3 of us chose Kong Fu. So he began teaching us the first movements of the martial art. We started with painful slowness and Master concentrated on perfecting the form of one movement before we began the next one. As to be expected in Kong Fu, there were several punching and pushing motions, but the most taxing positions required squats and lunges. I had not done either since I had left school and my muscles burned before long. Soon a layer of cool sweat soon coated us all as we practiced. The foreign Tai Chi students and the younger monk boys practiced alongside us. The monk children performed aerial kicks and flips with ease, and I was beyond impressed by their humility when it came to their abilities. No one competed with one another; on the contrary, most helped the less competent children to Master their practice. It made me feel slightly foolish remembering all I had done in high school when I had constantly tried to outstrip everyone in classwork and practices.
Suddenly Master called out that it was breakfast time. Starving, I ran to the kitchen. The cook handed the three of us bowls of our own, which we must wash and clean after every meal, as well as keep safe in our rooms. We sat down with Ella, one foreigner of about 21 who would be practicing Kong Fu with us. As explained in the etiquette, the Master must start eating before we could start. Our cook handed out 2 separate plates of giant dumplings and a bowl of what looked like rice porridge. It all smelled tantalizingly delicious. When the Master had exclaimed “R Me Tofo!” and bit into his food, I grabbed the first dumpling I set my eyes upon. The first was slightly salty with veggies and tofu inside, and the second was sweeter with crushed nuts and honey oozing from the dough. I ate at least 5, which was no easy feat due to their abnormal size.
After breakfast there was another round of lessons. We first stretched with our Master in a separate atrium that held several statues of different Masters and Buddhist guardians. Our Master shamed us all by stretching to the limits of the human body. He formed 200 degree angles with his splits and could put his head through his legs. Then we performed diverse exercises involving jump kicks, deliberate punches, cartwheels, and handsprings. Not wanting to offend our Master, who was very kind yet strict, we participated in all of the exercises, even if our backs smacked hard against the stone floor. The speed, agility, and stamina of the younger Buddhists astounded me. At one point a boy of 10 years old performed a no handed cartwheel flip! It was beyond anything I could have expected. The process of the exercises took longer than I thought because Master needed to show us the proper technique.
Too soon, 3 hours had passed and it was time for lunch. It was another delicious meal of tofu, rice, and various vegetables. I was beyond thirsty however, and resorted to drinking the steaming hot water they passed around, not caring weather my mouth burned or not. I left the table with David (you must leave the table in 2s and 3s) and said “R Me Tofo.” to each table. After cleaning our bowls and stowing them away safely, we played tag with a few of the monk children and I showed them a ninja star that I had kept in my bag. They took turns throwing it and each excited kid possessed deadly precision, though it was not unexpected.
While I was walking back to the room, Master called me to join him for some tea. It didn’t occur to me to refuse his request and I sat down with him at once. He drew out a large wooden wheel and smacked one side of it on the table. A part of the wheel shattered and he put a large chunk of the wood into a steaming pot of water. Only then did I realize that the wheel was made of compacted tea leaves. It wasn’t a strong or tasteful brew, but it filled you with immense energy. I felt like running a few miles afterwards. We talked of my Chinese lessons, his life at the temple, and my travels of the world. He spoke more English than I expected and was much more willing to converse in a friendly manner than during lessons. Then he clapped his hands and said “Lessons now.”
We finished up with a review of our Kong Fu positions and learned a new series of moves. Then came dinner, which was tofu bacon, rice, carrots, and peppermint soup. Immediately after dinner I dragged my feet up to my room. I only have the energy to type this post until I fall asleep, but hopefully I will be able to find a way to post these days while I am here.

Racing With Time

March 21. A hectic day was what I had to look forward to when I awoke this morning. I immediately dressed and showered, then set off into the markets to buy various souvenirs for my friends and family. I bought scarfs, ninja stars, incense, tea and several other items. The time I had spent practicing my bargaining skills had paid off, as well as my Chinese lessons, for I was usually able to cut the price down to a quarter of what the merchants originally gave. However, the bargaining took longer than I thought and it was almost noon before I had bought all the items I needed. I scarfed down a breakfast of eggs, bacon, bread, and cheese (which I made into a classic bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich) and drank a Chai tea, which brought new life back into my throbbing head.

From there I scrambled up my items and, with Leung’s help, shipped a package home. Even last month I had realized that my suitcase was bulging with unnecessary items so it was necessary to pay the 180 yen ($30) to send a package home. Almost an hour and a half had passed when the postwoman finally cleared all my items to be shipped away. I tore out of the post office with Leung on my heels and came to a barber shop. This took more time than normal because I was wary of the barbers in China, but again with Leung’s help I was able to get the exact cut that I wanted.

I ran back home and sent a few emails and had just finished when Erik told us that we needed to have dinner before heading to the monastery. We ate at Café De Jack again, which we eat half our meals from. I ordered a massive dinner, partly because I had only eaten one meal today, but mostly because the monastery only provides vegan food. I shoveled down a 9 inch pizza, a beefsteak with fries and an egg, and finished it off with a fresh oatmeal cookie from the bakery.

Beyond bloated, I lugged my suitcase onto a taxi and set out towards the monastery. It was only a bumpy 15 minute drive from Dali, but it was as secluded as any Buddhist temple. It was slightly dark when we arrived so I could only make out the outlines of the temple and the surrounding area. We walked down several steps and came through the opening of the large front doors. A boy no older than 13, wearing a headlamp, greeted us upon entering the temple and I introduced myself in Chinese saying Wo xing Mack, Wo jiao Jimmy. He laughed at my pronunciation and in good English said “Come this way everybody, you need to sign in.” I was slightly embarrassed to notice that his English is better than my Chinese. However, I studied for only 3 weeks where he has probably been studying for a few years.

The boy led us over to the sign-in book and we wrote down our information near candlelight. I even signed my name in Chinese, which pleased the boy. Then we were handed the temple etiquette, which was simple, yet strict. For example, it stated that no food can be left in your bowl; if you drop food you must eat it, no sexual contact, and above all no insulting the master. Leung and Erik wouldn’t be staying with us on this leg of the journey, though they probably will visit from time to time. So we said our farewells and it amused me to see Erik’s look of longing as he gazed around at the outlines of the surroundings.

 Then the boy led us to our rooms separately because the girls are not allowed to be in the boy’s dormitory and vice versa. As you may have guessed, there is no power in the temple and obviously no Wi-Fi, which might make blogging a bit tricky, but I will figure out something. The boy gave us a thermos of water and said goodnight. Thirsty, I gulped down some water, but gasped and sputtered when the boiling liquid ran down my throat. I guess that must be the way they purify the water here. I’m not going to complain. Better safe than sorry. We are now stretching out on our beds, eager to sleep so we can experience tomorrow, though the vegan meals might prove to be a heavy obstacle to overcome for 5 days.

The Little Things

March 15-20. For this post, I must start on the 20^th, for the days beforehand were as continuous as ever, although I do need to explain why I never followed through with my taekwondo lessons. When I consulted with Erik on the subject, he explained that 5 days of this trip are dedicated to learning either Kung Fu or Tai Chi at a Buddhist temple. Therefore, I decided that since I had already paid for martial arts lessons I might as well not spend my money learning an entirely separate martial art. It was, however, the loss of another unique experience, but I’m sure the time spent in the temple will make up for it.

So the 20^th was our last full, free day before the monastery, and I made sure it was worthwhile. Waking up to the bustle of the Saturday crowd, I awoke Christen and David and had a scrumptious breakfast at The Sweet Tooth. Breakfast consisted of savory blackberry pancakes and an enormous blackberry muffin. I was also able to stomach some coffee, which I have grown fond of since New Zealand, although plenty of sugar is a necessity.

Afterwards, our plan was to meet Erik and Leung at some stables a few blocks away from The Sweet Tooth. Leung, Erik, a raggedy, old man, and 4 small horses met us at the stables. Only Leung wanted to join on this ride, for it was his first time riding and Erik was busy with other demands. The old man greeted us with a toothless grin and, wasting no time, ushered us onto the horses. The horse stood no taller than my shoulder and I swung myself easily into the saddle. The “saddle” was a crude impression of a seat. It was made of wood and cushioned with a thick layer of Styrofoam. I felt that it would be cruel for the horse to have to bear my weight with only wood to comfort it. When I looked down I saw a layer of Styrofoam between the horse and the saddle, though it looked worn enough to be of barely any use.

When we were all situated on our horses and the toothless old man had comfortably loosened the stirrups, we set out on a leisurely walk towards the mountain. It was soon apparent that the horses weren’t bred for riding and I suspected they were mainly used as packhorses. The horses were hard to control as a rider, but the toothless old man barked orders every few seconds and they obediently followed them. Only David seemed to have full control of his horse, though he has been riding for 6 years.

We walked until we came to a dirt road. Then the toothless old man bellowed a command in Chinese and the horses sped off in a steady gallop. It caught me by surprise, but I had ridden before and I switched my rhythm without hesitation. Leung, however, was thrown off balance and nearly toppled over his horse’s neck. He screamed and tried to reign in his horse. The horse didn’t even respond and kept at its ground eating speed. The toothless old man boomed with laughter and ran to keep up with us. When he stopped the horses Leung was in a towering rage and almost walked home from there, but we were too far from home.

Contrary to what I believed, we only rode to the base of the mountain and then veered back towards the way we came. The entire ride took only an hour, but it was fun nonetheless. We passed through much of what we had seen when we had hiked the mountain with our teacher, but riding atop a horse made the journey much more exciting. We soon came back to the stables and patted our horses down before setting out to our next destination. From there we met Erik at a massage parlor. Our original plan was to relax and enjoy cheap oil massages, but that was until Erik pointed out their special on cupping.

Cupping is when a masseuse takes an ordinary, glass cup and, with the cup upside down, fills the cup with a flame. This in turn consumes all the oxygen inside and the masseuse quickly places the now flameless cup on your back, giving it a slight twist. As the suction causes your skin to try and fill every inch of the deoxygenated void, your body supposedly expels all its toxins through that suction. After 30 minutes of the hot cup sucking on your skin, the masseuse takes the cup off, leaving large, circular bruises that refuse to fade for days, or even weeks.

This special was only 25 yen per person. Erik suggested the idea, to which I responded “Party.” When else will I have the opportunity? Besides it was my last full day before the monastery. So our group, excluding Christen, was led to a room consisting of 3 lounges. Christen was led to a separate room for her cupping, for obvious reasons. The 3 of us, Leung didn’t want to try it, lay shirtless on the lounges. We talked excitedly, eager for the cupping to begin. 3 masseuses walked inside and lay 12 cups on the table beside me. I watched with slight apprehension as the masseuse grabbed the first cup and lit the inner air. He shoved it on so suddenly, I let out a groan of surprise and pain. The hot cup felt unpleasant and my skin immediately was taken up into the cup. He repeated the process 12 times until my skin was stretched so tight over my back, I thought it might split open. Then he laid a blanket over me and walked away, leaving me to squirm uncomfortably for the next 30 minutes.

As I lay in throbbing pain, I thought how uncomfortable it must be for someone to have an itch while they were feeling the sting of the suction. No sooner had the thought entered my mind when I yearned to scratch every part of my back. It was torturous to lay there unmoving, for if you moved, your back would change its posture and the suction would cease. Finally, after I had tried everything to distract myself from the irritation, the masseuse came back in and took the cups off my back. Afterwards, I sprang up and shook around, though I felt different than I had before. I felt full of energy and felt no pain anywhere on my body. I believe the sensation was caused by the pain I had felt earlier and not because my body was suddenly toxin free, but it was a pleasant feeling.

Erik and David stood up and shook themselves, but neither had expressions of relief on their faces. On the contrary, they both seemed disappointed. When I asked them how they felt, Erik replied “Well that was a rip-off.” Neither had felt anything during the cupping, yet both their backs looked as if they had been beaten. Pulling our shirts back on, we left the parlor. With sullen faces, the pair of them walked out towards the town and flagged down a taxi. David, for one, was eager to wash down his disappointment with the next scheduled event.

Last Saturday we had signed up for a baking lesson at the café. It was being taught by the American family that ran the place so it was easy to relay directions back and forth. We made the dough, kneaded the bread and churned out several dozen cinnamon rolls. It was a welcome change to laugh and joke with kids you are barely acquainted with. I had grown so accustomed to the presence of Erik, Leung, David and Christen and only then did I realize that it had been almost 3 weeks since I had met an English speaking person, save last Saturday. We again played cards and Apples to Apples while we enjoyed our cinnamon rolls.

As I licked the icing from my fingers, I pondered the happenings of today. I replayed everything that had happened and, subconsciously, I ordered them from favorite to least favorite. Surprisingly, my top choice was the present moment. I realized that I had forgotten to enjoy the small things in life and I was bent on enjoying momentous events. Of course, the last 2 months have been fun and momentous, but if you look back at all you can remember it’s the jokes you tell, the emotions you feel, and the people you share your life with that make those memories extraordinary. Sometimes, there is nothing better than enjoying your friends’ company while biting into a freshly baked cinnamon roll.