Cambodia
is big on monks. They are all over. Most bus stations have a
waiting area for them and there is even a designated line at the
airports. Which got me wondering whether they have to carry special
monk ID. Anyway, most seemed happy to have their photo taken, or at
least they don't seem to mind too much, which in my case works out to
be the same thing. I even picked up a couple of blessings along the
way. Hey, you never know, right?
Finally, my
absolute Favorite-Monk-Of-The-Trip: he works out of an alcove
someplace in Angkor Wat. He tied a piece of red cord around my wrist
and chanted a prayer. For the prayer to be effective, I have to wear
the cord until it falls off by itself. I suspect the prayer is
really one of thanks for the tourists who drop money into his bowl in
exchange for pieces of red string. Meantime, the cord is still
there.
2 comments:
Maury, You're still "out there!"Wandering the planet on your own. I wonder how much trouble you get into that way?
I love the monks and the saffron color. If you can buy a robe that color, please bring one back for me. I'll reimburse you. It seems as if they keep outsiders at arms length a bit, right? The last monk's expression is pleasing, yet enigmatic.
How much longer will you be gone?
cr
Maury survived multiple Cave Howls and traveling with Peter Zelin, what could go wrong ?
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