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Entries in history (138)

Thursday
Feb042010

Blog dance

Greetings,

Let's dance. To the sound they're playing on the radio. Under the serious moonlight. Let's blog to the dance of letter-words.

There are 30 million bloggers in the states. Various states of confusion. Let's be various. Young people prefer social networks like Facebook (Fabulously Boring) and Twitter. Faster, shorter and easier. It's so exciting to live fast, short and easy. If I suffered from Attention Deficit Disorder, and everyone suffers from something because existence is suffering, I'd be a bird practicing social twittering. Kiss and type. 

Anxiety meets the tourist. They whisper, "I'm behind in getting my images up on Where Is My Face?" Once upon a space-dance there was a humbling life changing experience. Laughter was life learning dialogue.

I arrived hoping to teach at an isolated rural school 50km from Siem Reap. HOPE, the U.K. based charity organization sponsors the proposed school; My Grandfather's HouseThey require volunteers to have a criminal background check. As everyone knows, all-knowing, all powerful authorities do not issue this bureaucratic paper to aliens, nomads, misfits, vagabonds, itinerant weird genius teachers or other highly dubious life forms. So it goes.

I exist outside adult time.

Metta.

 

Sunday
Jan312010

Dance hall

Greetings,

The dancing hall at Preah Khan is where dancers don't smile. They dance. They are slave dancers, all the women.

They dance for the king. He is the god-king. He has resurrected his desire and fury creating new customs, new decrees for dancers. They dance for the mighty and powerful. They dance Khmer stories about war, conquest, harvests, seasons, sun, and moon. 

They are submissive dances of life/death. They dance to celebrate life. They dance the celebration of tranquility. They dance or die. They wear tinkling bands of gold around wrists and ankles. They wear diamond diademed crowns and shimmering silk clothing. They do not smile. Their faces are frozen in the trance of dance.

One dances to escape the tyranny. She's danced all her short, sweet life.

The hall of dancers is surrounded by columns, portals and broken jumbled green moss stones. Thick gnarled silk-cotton tree roots crawl toward dancers. They dance through roots, past Shiva and Vishnu. The preserver and destroyer of life. 

 

 

 

Two foreign dancers dance with guide books. Golden leafed pages dance past their eyes. A guide who knows everything watches them. They are blind. He dances alone.

Metta.

Phimeamakas, Preah Pithu, Thommanon, Chau Say Thevoda...

Friday
Jan292010

Leica the day

Greetings,

What a pleasant day. I visited four temples - there are perhaps 1,000 - at, around and away from Angkor Wat. An evolving diversion from previous impressions.

Phimeanakas, 10th c., in a large forested enclosure means "flying palace" in Sanscrit. It was topped by a golden spire. I sat near Phimeanakas and then wandered toward ancient walls. In between were painters offering their art. Green and yellow leaves fluttered through broken light. Earth's new blanket. 

The Preah Pithu Group are five Hindu and Buddhist temples from the 15th c. The forest path is crackling. I walk slow, breathing in the fragrance of leaves, trees, fresh air, leaving only footprints.

Over a simple meal of rice and vegetables a group of young Czech men talk. One said, "We have to DO everything in a short time." That sums it ALL up.

 

Thommanon, 12th c. is in great condition with fine Buddhist art and complements Chau Say Thevoda. Chau is undergoing renovation using Chinese government funds. Dedicated to Shiva and Vishnu.

A cleansing ceremony at Preah Palilay.

Metta.

Phimeamakas, Preah Pithu Group, Thommanon, Chau Say Thevoda galleries...

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.