Religion... really??

I have been visiting some Holy places in China and have found things very confusing.

These very old Holy sites hold the most interesting history of religion in the area and include Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, Taoism, Confucianism and maybe more. Likely my confusion is mostly related to the fact that the information available is only printed in Chinese, (or Arabic) english is hard to find or minimal.
Much of this report will come from observation and informants, who's knowledge is also limited.

So, there are famous ancient "Twin Towers" in the city of Quanzhou that are temples to the Buddhist community. The grounds around also contain other temples, (many many temples on each site, maybe as many as ten and I am not sure why) It seems that in each temple there are large statues of the Gods or Buddha, and the prayers are offered for different things. I was told that the Deity worshiped had certain qualities and if you wanted to gain these certain qualities, that was where to go to focus your prayers. It could be that that was a Taoist belief, I'm not sure.

While at the Towers my Chinese companion had a conversation with one of the monks. These men were in orange robes with shaved heads. Their housing was within the complex, lots of orange robes out to dry on the porches and in the windows. He was expressing his opinion of community and marriage saying it was like a prison, restricting the growth of one's soul.

At another of the Holy sites (I think Taoist) we watched the 'process' of prayer. You begin by purchasing incense sticks, a small handful and go from alter to alter offering prayers. Each time you hold an uneven number of lit incense (three was a common one, but I saw more than that) and when you finish, you stick the incense in the holders by the entrance and light more and move on to the next station.
I must mention that all these things you need (incense, paper, firecrackers et al are available to purchase on site)

Once finished incense prayers, you borrow two wafers (they are small bamboo half-moon shaped blocks that fit in the palm of your hand) hold them in your hands and pray again for a while. When ready, you throw the wafers on the floor and if they land right (one right side up, the other right side down) it is a yes answer to your prayer and you move to the next step. If not, you must pray again until they land the desired way.

The next step is to approach a container (like an umbrella stand) filled with flat bamboo sticks (maybe thirty or so) about a meter long and grab them with both hands and lift them out a bit, then drop them back in until one from the bunch doesn't fall back but sticks up above the rest. You take that stick and go back to the wafer prayers to make sure that is the proper answer to your prayer. When you get the 'right' result, you take your stick that has certain markings on it, to the monk for interpretation. He asks what the prayers were for, consults his 'list' and interprets the answer as yes or no. If the answer is no, you must start the process over again. If the answer is yes, move on to the final step.

They sell fake paper money (but large and fancy with lots of gold and red colour) This money is burned in a special furnace as an offering of thanks for the answer to your prayers. The higher the monetary denomination, the greater the thanks.

It could be I just don't get it, or I didn't get any of it right. It sure is interesting.

to market, to market to buy a fat...

My daily visits to the market fill my mind with a million stories so to be told... don't even know where to start. Maybe I could just take you with me this morning and try to paint a brief glimpse for you.

Since it was raining I donned my newly purchased rain poncho, construction yellow with a cartoon sketch of Santa in orange carrying a green sack of toys? Dare I say it's a child's size and that could explain the graphics. They have odd taste here in many things. Lai kwan took her lilac umbrella as usual so we were nicely colour co-ordinated.

The local market is a block away, or should I say there is a market every few blocks. There is the usual street with shop upon shop of veggies, live and dead fowl, meat (mostly pork) dried goods (fish, rice, corn, seasoning, nuts, peppers, things I don't have a clue about) dishes and house wares, electric wires, fruit... so it goes the whole length of the block.
Added to this will be the illegal 'hawkers', those who can't afford a licensed stand of their own but load up their wares, usually fruit or veggies, sometimes ducks and chickens in bamboo woven baskets that they carry on a bamboo stick over their shoulder or a little wagon they pull, or the bicycle with the side cart (or the wagon on the back) These folks line the streets in front of the other shops and shout out their 'good prices'. They need to keep moving along the street to avoid blocking customers from accessing the other shops since the street is very narrow. And you must remember there are a few cars and many other bikes and these miserable motorcycles all wanting the same space that you happen to be standing in. There is danger involved.

Now in this stretch there is a covered area on one side that houses most of the seafood vendors, live fowl, tofu, in fact, I guess most everything. This might be my favorite part because it is all so new to me (and it's covered when it's raining or in cooking hot sun) Here's where you find a million different kind of water-related creatures. This is the wet, mucky, stinky area... to walk through here would explain why the Chinese never wear their street shoes in the house.
The tables in the seafood area, if there are any, are very low and the vendors sit on child-sized chairs with their wares in buckets and basins all around them. They all call to you as you pass by, ready to adjust their price for a sale.
Some of the buckets hold live catches, frequently leaping out at your feet and trying to follow you home, some already expired. The most fun are the bins of clams and shelled things that spit little streams of water at you as you pass by. Included in the price is the killing, gutting, scaling, deboning, whatever you want done. They either do it while you wait or you return after you finish your shopping to pick up your purchase. These folk are ankle deep in fish insides and scales from early morning on.
If you were wanting, say, fresh prawns, you must reach in to the writhing bin, with bare hands, and sort through, and chose the cutest ones. If I had to do this on my own, I'm sure I would be a vegetarian for sure.
I'm sayingthis job would not interest me, but the fresh seafood... priceless.

the traffic

The greatest danger to me here in China is not a healthy diet as I had worried, but staying alive outside the house.

My experience with traffic here in Quanzhou could be the worst I have seen but if not, it's high on the list.
There is a lot of it. There are a lot of people. Some say with a population of only 1 million, I ain't seen nothing yet.

The traffic rules are, um, kinda, you could say... more relaxed than you would find in Canada.
For example, imagine traveling on a bus, albeit early saturday morning, rocketing along the four lane road that runs straight through the smaller communities, the driver constantly on the horn. Now I don't mean a beep beep here, a beep beep there, I'm talking BEEEEPP,BEEEEPPP, non stop for the duration of the ride. He only stops beeping occasionally to massage his overworked horn wrist. You can get a size twelve headache in short order.
When coming up to traffic in the two lanes ahead, and the horn can't move it (as there is nowhere else to be besides where they are) he skirts out into the two left oncoming traffic lanes!!! It's here I have my eyes closed and have stepped up the prayers. The horn doesn't stop but as I steel for the impact, I squint ahead to see a couple of motorcycles passing us on the left?? It is a wonder to me how the population got to be so large, I think the traffic here aught to be working to control that. I must admit there are few accidents that I have seen. A mystery to me.

The main streets here are often four lane with two extra fenced off lanes for bikes and motorcycles (I thought) Then the sidewalks are huge wide tiled affairs so it looks like there is room for safe passage for all. Mistake. The bikes, cars, motorcycles, busses... everything really, go everywhere and anything with wheels always has the right-of-way. The walk lights at the intersections include the bikes and motorcycles and push carts, and anything short of a car can cross in the cross walk with the walk light. Very hairy, and terribly dangerous. I didn't mention that the turn lanes are still operating with the right-of-way to the traffic as the other hundred or so (people, bikes, motorcycles etc) attempt to make it safely to the other side alive of the multi-laned road, on the very short walk light.
Now the very lovely road set up, roadway, bike lane, sidewalk... means nothing. Again everything goes everywhere. There are cars, bikes, motorcycles... are everywhere, even on the sidewalks!! and they have the right-of-way!! So there is much honking, ringing, and leaping for safety as you walk along since the traffic travels in either direction on either sidewalk. Quite unbelievable and not so fun.

When I say motorcycle, it is mostly scooters and the small-engined Suzuki's and the like that we called 'foo-foo' bikes cause they had so little power. But power be damned, they load those little bikes up with everything you can imagine (or could never imagine), boxes, animals, up to 4 or 5 people, furniture, vegetables, sheets of glass... The bikes here often have a sidecar that allows an even greater usage since they can carry more. They use them as people carriers too, equipped with a seat for your comfort, and covered with advertising to gain extra money.
There is a motorcycle helmet law that they are slowly instituting. For now it is just for the drivers, I guess the passengers are more expendable. However, the helmets are few and far between, probably less than 40 percent, and they are never on the kids. But the kids are always on the bikes, often standing on the scooter between someone's knees. And yet they live to grow up.

China is full of mystery.

toilets

You knew this was coming, didn't you?
I am experienced with toilets, been using them most of my life and my mom says I have a quite advanced 'pee pee dance'.
But of all my experience I don't understand squat toilets... these are the ones that are most used in China. They are just as they sound, two footprints straddling the porcelain trough. To use, as with the bowl type we use in Canada, lose the clothes in the appropriate location and instead of sit, you squat over the trough and release. Sometimes the trough is one continuous trough going from one stall to the next, not nice at all as all the... never mind. You will find them everywhere, public toilets, restaurants and even homes (and the school dorms).

So here are the questions... why? why? and why? It's not like there is all that much more porcelain involved in producing a bowl, and add a plastic seat, and bob's yer uncle, and it's so civilized. But no!! they chose the other...
We all know that if you pour liquid from any height onto, say, a hard flat surface or a bowl of liquid, there is going to be splash. For example, we all are familiar with urinals, and men's toilets, yes? There are always puddles, wet tracks and smell, I am not wrong on this. No woman will, by anything except desperate choice, use the mens room. The seat is always up, and sprayed with pee and the floor is wet and it's all stinky.
Well here in China, the same is true of the women's toilets too. I don't love it at all.

And I have learned what a bad aim I am too. As a kid in the great outdoors I didn't worry to much when I came out of the bush with my right foot warm and wet, but here in China, I get a little red in the face. And of course the floors are all like swampland and so stinky. Just try to have a successful trip, with no toilet paper (and nothing allowed in the toilet but bodily waist, the paper is not to be flushed but goes in a smelly little bin nearby), no soap, no paper towels, often no water, your pant cuffs and shoes badly sprayed or dragged through... I'm sorry if you haven't eaten yet.

You might wonder about getting down to assume the position, being comfortable while there, being productive and then trying to get up again? There is nothing to help you, no handles, knobs, railings, nothing. Nor is there a hook for your coat, purse or very heavy backpack. So you will be trying to take care of all this with your tissues in your purse or pocket and your nickers at your ankles and then get back up, all the while keeping your cuffs as dry as possible. I think you might be laughing by now at the thought but for me, it makes me consider never drinking again before going out.

I didn't mention the doors? Or might I say lack of doors? Or even walls for that matter. Sometimes the walls are only waist high so there is never a problem wondering if your friends are still in the toilet or have exited already. There is no lingering in Chinese toilets. No comfy chairs to wait for your friends, no space to change a diaper, no nursing your hungry babe... There is much to be enjoyed with no doors though. Ever been in those toilets that forces you put one foot in the bowl so the door will close? Well with no doors, no problem. And the ones that you need climb under the toilet paper holder or sit side saddle to use the bowl? Right, with no paper, no problem.
So I want you all to enjoy your cushy toilet seats, dry floors and doors, but don't forget me over here, building my thighs for next snowboarding season.

Chinese food

There's Chinese food in China!
Not what you would expect though if you were judging from Canadian standards. But what else do we Canadians have to draw from? There is no chicken chow mien, egg foo anything, chop seuy... not here.
Now it's true the woman here cooking is Malaysian Chinese, but she assures me the only difference in her cooking, compared to the real Chinese cuisine is that she enjoys mixing more things together than do Chinese cooks. She likes the variety, and colour, and taste for that matter.
So here's how it goes... no easy meals. No 'open a can of soup and make a sandwich' kind of meal here. It's all carefully planned and prepared. And always cooked. No salads, I miss that. I think salads were at least half my diet.
Step one is a trip to the market, (two minutes from the door, and a story for another time) often with no shopping list cause you never know what will be there that's fresh and it leaves you open to 'inspiration'.

The meal preparation takes about an hour with the delegation of a few other hands chopping, washing, peeling, stirring... and the finished product will feed hordes (cause there are always hungry hordes here at meal times)
Often they start with soup, from some large boiled bones that might have been used a few times and in between uses, might have sat on the kitchen table for some time. Scary? Yes. And to that some green onions, maybe sweet radish (a huge white thing) maybe squash that they call pumpkin, a few floating balls made of fish paste but little else.
Next will come rice and lots of it, cooked it the microwave... Lia Kwan mixes in other grains and beans, but the Chinese usually use white rice. One day one of the youth here ate 7 bowls of rice!!! They like rice a lot, like the Persians I think.
But with the rice will be served many more dishes, several of veggies, and normally one or two that have meat, (fish or pork) It starts with a hot wok with oil, add maybe onion but always garlic. if it's a meat dish, the meat may have been marinated in oyster sauce/ soy sauce and other mysterious things. So add the meat after cooking the garlic a minute, brown the meat and push it up the sides of the wok (maybe 5-10 minutes) I feel like I'm writing a cookbook. Add water or some or that soup I mentioned earlier, then comes greens (could be sweet potato tops, baby bok choy, and about a million other choices I have never seen before)
The greens get put to the side and little by little pushed into the hot liquid on the bottom until wilted. It really looks easy but there are secrets I don't know.
Each dish is unique, each time they do it. That's the secret part, no measuring, no recipe... experience. When finished there could be 5 or 6 dishes all set on the middle of the table. Each person is given a small bowl of rice and the chop sticks... I know you are waiting for this part.
So the chop sticks allow you an increased reach if about 6" or more and everyone just reaches in and selects food from each dish to add to their little rice bowl. So civilized, except for me. I'm not real practiced with the sticks. I have been known to be reaching for, say, a fish ball and think I have mastered the grip when, halfway to my bowl the sticks do an unexpected criss-cross behaviour and fling my food headlong into someone else's lap, bowl or hair. Not a pretty sight. People try not to laugh. I turn red. The later in the day, the less coordination I have. Lesson: eat early.
So many more things of interest around food but I must tell you about the Hot Pot. The little restaurants have special tables with a hole in the centre under which there is a gas burner. In the hole goes a bowl (mostly just the broth as I mentioned before) the size and shape of those large silver salad/mixing bowls we all have. Then you go to the "bar" and chose stuff to go in it, like greens, fish, veggies, maybe twenty or more choices, all on little wooden sticks. You then load the stuff, a bit at a time, into the boiling broth, much like a fondu, and let it cook a bit and dig in with your chopsticks!! It's a ton of fun, and when you finish, they count the wee sticks and you pay per stick.
China, you all have to come.

day to day...China

Life in China is a very different experience that what I have become used to in, say, BC or ON.
There are things that happen that I don't expect.

I assume that the landlord where I rent has a responsibility to to keep my rental unit in a reasonable condition (like if the wall is crumbling down because of a water leak, he would repair it) My expectations are out of line for some of China's standards.
Where I'm staying, by chinese standards, is spacious and well equipped. And yet, me, the "badly spoiled Canadian white person" thinks I am living in "hardship". But, the Baha'i Holy Writings tells me "hardship" is good for me, it helps strengthen my character, which can use much in the strengthening department.

So...? here's my humble view.
Let's start with the bed. My friend cautioned me about the beds before I left Canada. I think he thought I was a sissy. He said "it's not like Canada, the beds are hard" I imagine hard and think, I (puffed up ego) can handle "hard beds"... well he meant HARD beds. They actually have a mattress (a surprise, to be sure) but the mattress has the softness of, say, a patio stone! Then, on top of that, is a kind of bamboo mat about 1/2 cm. thick, made up of small blocks of wood (1 cm x 2 cm) strung together. It's a little like those seat covers that you buy for your car that are round beads, these are just bigger beads (and flat). Now in the winter, the mat is covered with a couple of blankets and an electric pad for warmth, then a bed sheet... the summer (where we are now) the blankets and electric pad go under the mat, the mat gets flipped to the shiny side, the sheet gets packed away... and you sleep on the wood??? I'm trying to grow to this "strength" So far i make it to... putting and extra quit, doubled, and on top of my mattress/bamboo mat to get one little bit more of softness, so my poor old complaining bones can actually get some sleep on the torture bed. I know they are going to make me try the 'mat alone' thing soon. I think I might look for some" heavy duty" sleeping pills and give it a try.

Cu Chi Tunnels

In the south of Vietnam, near the community of Cu chi, (and not too far from Ho Chi Minh City) they have preserved some of the original areas where the war with the American soldiers was fought. This area is where the most intense fighting and bombing focused.

I knew nothing about this history but what I saw in the big American movies and I was shocked and alarmed by the truth.

Because of the ingenuity of the local people and their spirit of preservation, they built tunnels to assist in the communication and safe travel through the area in war time. The tunnels were originally begun during the war with the French, but weren't really used to there fullest until the American war years. (1960's)

So the building of the tunnels took place over a period of 25 years and the total length of the tunnels was somewhere around 120 km (in fact all the way to the Cambodian boarder) There was a whole community there, underground! 

The guides were excellent in explaining the inner workings. Models and diagrams showed where the people lived, the hospital, the cooking areas, how and when they cooked (and kept the smoke contained until the early hours of the morning when they could release it safely without risking detection)

The tunnels were up to four levels deep and in the planning they included traps in case they were invaded by the Americans. The final escape tunnel went to the river bank and at high tide their tunnel exit was under water.

They dug themselves underground areas to shoot at the Americans undetected. They collected all they could find from the Americans, metal from unexploded bombs, guns and other equipment and fashioned it into weapons or tools to use against their enemy. They built traps throughout the forest that were deadly and built with the simplest tools and included a lot of bamboo spikes.

They had nothing and were up against the equipment and technology of the US. And they were never defeated. They tried to bomb them out but they would just re-dig. Many thousands died there defending their freedom. The digging went on at night, like so much of their lives and they dumped the dirt from the tunnels in old bomb craters to hide it.

They walked us through the area to view some tunnel sights, traps, escape holes... and finally through a restored tunnel. It had been enlarged to accommodate tourists but I was on my knees through parts of it (and I'm not all that huge) Originally there was no light but they added two small bulbs at the beginning of the tunnel (to get you well in before you hit the thick darkness) I only travelled 30 meters before I ran for the air and light of day. Some travelled the entire 100 meters and down to the second level... very brave.

For me, this was a life changing experience.

I Hate Rats

I didn't expect to write about rats!

I don't like rats.

My daughter, one day, came home with a little story-joke...

 ' I was crazy once. They locked me in a room with rats. I hate rats! They drive me crazy... I was crazy once' ...  etc

Well, I'm there. 

They live in the house with us. Maybe not live, I think they just visit at night and search the kitchen for sustenance. 

The first one found me in the kitchen one night recently. I did the screech, dance, run thing... it just ran back and forth trying to get back to the cooking area where it has an escape route, but poor thing  (oh man, did I say 'poor thing') got locked out cause we had closed the inner door.

So unbeknowned to me, it found it's way to my room and set up housekeeping under my bed.  I didn't know  until about 2am when it began it's housekeeping or toileting routines.

That was pretty much it for sleep that night. It would scurry about under my bed and I would thump about and utter threats like "you better not come out from there cause I'm here, with a full bladder, and you could be at risk, unless you can swim" If I made enough noise it would get quiet, and if I stayed quiet it would get it's courage back and resume activities... so I would begin the thumping again ad nausium.  By the mornings light I must have dozed off in exhaustion and it made a daring escape out my window. I know cause of the teeth marks through the screen.

That morning I find him in the kitchen, resume the screech, dance, run behavior and watch as he climbs the wall in the corner and lets himself out the exhaust fan!  Brat.

Next night, with evidence of it's escape, I returned to bed with greater ease... well not so much as to leave my window open enough for a repeat performance.  And sure enough, 2am, I see him decend from the air conditioner outside my window. He climed down the screen and chewed a new hole (cause I had repaired the old one) but was too chubby to fit through the narrow window crack. I was at the window in a flash, afraid I was wrong about his size and the space available for his entry. 

Somewhat relived, I returned to bed, but sleep? aahh... no, not for a long while.  I shivered to watch his return to investigate a new entry spot. Big fellow he is, the screen droops with his weight.

 My host says just don't leave and food in your room and he'll get tired of being there.  She suggests just keep your mosquito net zipped up and "no worries"  I think she must not mind rats as much as me. And does she rally think they can't get through my mosquito net when it has made four new "doors" in the screen.

So he comes by every night to rip a larger hole in my sorry screen. I think it's time to keep the window shut, zip down the mosquito net and forget repairing the screen... 

unbelievable Vietnam

It aught to be called that.

Ryan and I travelled there with his friend, Prema and many members of her (outrageous) family. With 16 of us we were a tour group all on our own.

We landed in the cool and lovely north (from cookin' hot Battambang, Cambodia) and met up with the family at a hotel in Hanoi. 

Next morning we bussed to the coast to board a junk (the Thanh Hung #18) in Halong Bay. There were many, many, many other junks in Halong Bay but ours was probably the most fun. Our route took us through hundreds of curious small islands that rose up cliff-like out of the sea. Most looked uninhabited but a few showed signs of life and one had stairs to the peak (a lot of stairs, too many for me) with a Pagoda at the top! I think a great view.

The weather was grayish and cool but our spirits bright. I kinda reminded me of a rain forest, lush, with that kind of heavy humidity.

Our junk housed all 16 plus another 6 or 8 from another tour. There were two decks of cabins, (the middle deck had the dining area) and the top was a sun deck, or should I call it the games deck? In the other group were three young women from Seattle, Washington who were going into a remote village to visit the place where one of the girls was born.

After arriving at our destination they anchored in the bay and ferried us over to visit a huge cave, the stalagmite/stalactite kind (you know the difference, right? ... when the "mites" go up, the "tights" come down... you won't forget now) There were stairs and walkways built for easier access and the rock areas were all spotlit with soft colours. I was lovely and there I was without my camera, arghh...

Next came the ferry to take us to another dock of kayaks and they sent us out to explore the islands close by. What a fun day! 

We finished with a great meal, many dishes of seafood and veggies and things I couldn't identify. It was to follow with a night of karaoke but the machine was broken, some of us didn't mind. I was ready for bed after all that. I'm getting old you know?

wish you were there

I'm here in China!!! It was a "sleeper" bus from Hong Kong, little rows of bunk beds, on a bus, like the train without walls or a door, rocketing down the highway, stuff flashing by in the dark. The bunk under me held a wee child, less than a year (and mom) who had no interest in sleep, wanted to explore. I glanced over at one point to see her sweet smiling face at my bunk level? Alarmed, I looked down to find her standing on sleeping mom's right hip. I lunged for her shirttails as she loomed dangerously near the stairwell on the far side of the bunk. Mom awoke just then too and hauled her back (yet again) to the safety of the walled side amid protests from said explorer. She slept soon after, in mid climb over mom. Such a fun experience, not much sleep (of course) but the experience alone... priceless. 

I had made my way to the boarder via bus then train, through the official stuff and with much to smile about, on to the bus depot. And the bus depot was an event all on it's own. Lots of activity, big voices and hand waving to enhance the expression ... toilets with footprints where to stand (we Canadians know not of this) and no doors, (I'm beginning to think doors are over rated) at least you don't have to worry about what you might catch off a door handle if there is no door, right? 

In the light of day I was alerted urgently, in chinese, that my stop was at hand. The man who spent the night in the bunk next to me noticed my anxious face and took me in tow to the downtown area where he called my host and they arranged to come to my rescue. The people are so sweet and helpful. I am feeling somewhat overwhelmed and expect to meet a house full of people tonight at 6:30pm... "no room for vacillation"...

the adventure begins

Dear friends

It is finally the China adventure, in the making for nearly two years. 

The origin was a modest presentation by our beloved Dr. David Smith in Edmonton, I think summer of 2007. It was like he was saying, "hey Vikki, China is important, what's taking you so long?" I couldn't think of anything that looked more wonderful, so with some slight delay, I bought a ticket February 2008 for Quanzhou, south east China.

Packed and ready to go.... a family commitment came to the fore that took my full time, "China" went on hold.

So here I am after a full year and then some, I am having a prelude to China... the "real" thing will kick off April 19th I think.

I'm in Cambodia with number one son, Ryan (well the only son) I met him in Malaysia a few days back and but for a swirling in my head and visual images I have never seen before, it's just like home. Uuuhhh... well nothing like home really but for the people who are receiving me with such love and patience. I left Vancouver after a few days there with Beka, it was hard to leave her behind, my best choice would be to have her here too.

So more than 13 hours from Vancouver to Hong Kong, overnight there, then on to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia to connect with Ryan.

Next afternoon, flight to Phnom Penh, one night there, bus to Battambang and a few incredible days to catch my breath, adjust to new sleep patterns, food, water, air (heat)...wheeewww

So it needs to be a Cambodia story... hard to get it down to one, but on our last afternoon there came an urgent message for me to get to the "centre" (Cambodian Organization for Research, Development and Education or CORDE) I was picked up (two of us actually) by a young woman riding a small motorbike. She is the size of a minute and although we other two ( me and a young doctor woman, Queelie from Malaysia) are not huge or anything close, imagine driving through non stop traffic, mostly motor bikes, cars, trucks, bikes... all honking wildly and swerving about...( there need s to be a whole story on the traffic alone) with TWO OTHER PEOPLE ON THE BACK!!??? aaaahhhh and me praying in between screams and gasps.

The good part is we only had to travel a few blocks, (felt like more), to learn we were headed into the legendary "villages" where there resides 6000 Baha'is in the Battambang cluster alone. Can you picture it? I have been there and it's reality still escapes me.

So the kicker is... we will travel as we started, three of us, same bike, same driver, over back roads (you know the ones that often look more like dry river beds?)  through oncoming honking-swerving traffic, dust, cows, chickens. water buffalo, pigs... for 35 km??? no? really? I felt like a sissy. The little trek from the house to the centre stopped my heart for 5 minutes and I didn't yet know what I was in for.

So we drove and drove and drove and ate dust and our bums went numb and we couldn't see with the dust sometimes and our clothes all turned the same colour...

AND as we traveled,( trying hard to stay on, we two amatures) we passed through the "real world" simple, alive, tough... The houses lined the "road" and were so close that it often felt as if we were actually passing through the house itself.  

These houses look very precarious, upright poles (logs really) often tied together, no apparent doors, sometimes on stilts so that under the house there were cool spots for the family to avoid heat of the day. They hung hammocks there and slept as we passed. In front there might be little veggie and fruit stands, usually including water, and there the kids played, and the families cooked and livestock lingered and the people lived... 

The roofs, were thatch or tin and I'm thinking the rain must have flowed in too.

After nearly two hours... ya... we limped off the bike, slapped some of the dust from our clothes, left our shoes at the door and joined in.

Our destination was a junior youth gathering, maybe twenty kids (with radiant faces) all studying the materials that  kids around the world are studying. They were using the books in Khamer, with english translation so they could also improve their english in the process.

We watched with delight as they repeated the stories and asked questions and giggled together as I shot a few photos of them.

We taught (actually Queelie taught) them a song, the ol' "a smile is something if you give it away" which seemed to please them greatly... you could tell by the continuing giggles.

All too soon we again boarded the bikes, took a shortcut home and after our experience with the kids the ride didn't even matter.

Our world is quite wonderful, yes?