vaga 1/15 Return to keyboard
Part XV
I RETURNED TO THE KEYBOARD AFTER 6 MONTHS DURING WHICH THE SANDALS AND i HAVE NOT STOPPED, I HAVEN’T TOUCHED THE KEYBOARD, NOR WRITTEN A DRAFT OR A NOTE
In this chapter we will be accompanied by images of a Buddha sculpture and his temple “the Golden Buddha” in Dambulla, Sri Lanka. The icons are impossible to ignore and are so important to the understanding of this continent that I cannot minimise them, I have selected the most relevant because of their context or because of their overwhelming beauty or their extraordinary location, which I have to share. This selection does not go correlatively with Myanmar, but there are so many sculptures of Buddha and I needed to relieve myself of the photos on the cell phone. I have never counted them ... ... there are at least 600!!!!!!!! So welcome to the download. The curious thing is, that each place, region or country wants to have the largest sculpture, the most imposing one, and it must be made of gold if possible, but if it isn’t possible, they paint them gold, which is almost all of them, except for the one that I saw that was made of gold. In a future Blog, I have more about the extraordinary, unique and complex Buddha that was made purely out of gold.
I've noticed things lately, many still uncertain, others in a state of incubation. Something has changed between my perception and / or sensitivity. I've already been in Asia for a year and a half. It is definitely not the same perception as when I first arrived at this continent that is so different, so incomprehensible; its religions, traditions, full of colours, smells, foods, landscapes ……… .and I always feel that I am hallucinating every second, every moment, with the big as well as the small things, every detail is observed and appreciated, with this time.
In these last months that my life has passed, (I clarify I am not travelling, this is a new stage of my life) and things have been accumulating and accommodating indistinctly inside me. Well I feel alive (I haven't always felt that way) and things are mutant, I'm just starting to see it at this stage, feel it, and now I'm trying to put it in perspective. Writing for me has always been the best way to order, process and incorporate my actions, be it the good, the bad, the boring, the unusual, the incomprehensible. So, my emotions, sensations and thoughts are changing, and it gives me joy that I don't get stuck in a single line or on a single path, without the fear of what comes next or feels, or I decided, for better or worse, daring to be attentive to what is new. What can happen to me, not only in the physical sense, but emotionally and mentally. Reopen myself to new sensibilities to understand others more, welcome the different, and to question myself less and respect others more, and this point is the most difficult, in another instance I will elaborate. Without fears about the unexpected, improvised experiences (almost all)…… everything is widening my thinking, my soul, my heart….
In this temple I had never seen it before, there is a series of sculptures representing many monks on a pilgrimage to Buddha. The sculpture is huge.
I will continue to tell about trips, anecdotes of all kinds, from the funniest to the darkest, apprehensions, irreverence and my always present humour and that does not change one iota. I will talk about excursions about being inside volcanoes with active craters, sleeping in a village with the Waerodo natives, Indonesia, to dive among some sculptures under the most amazing waters for their beauty and everything you can imagine in between. But also in the meantime to clarify my own changes. The Vagabond's personal report, I no longer know who it is for. First, it was for my group that motivated me, and they are close to me, then the others were added, those that I do not know or do I write for myself. Either as my personal diary of my wanderings, the way it was in the beginning, to move little by little and unintentionally to a life journal, which is more than a travel log. Sometimes I am confused who I am talking to. Today I see that all my entanglements are valid. And I have stopped trying to figure out who it is for.
I am not a writer as I have already said, nor a reporter, I only narrate what is happening to me, I am not good at describing images, so the photos complement my writing and make that work tremendously easier for me. They contribute to the general description of the place, the situation or the character, in visual form and from there I relate what happened to me, what I felt, what I imagined, what I did not understand, what surprised or disappointed me ...
I do not know how many monks there were, I think more than 50, and they showed their daily routine, their bowl of rice, their napkin and even the faithful giving them food as they passed, just as it is done until now.
In these 6 months, I have been wandering, even more in Nepal, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, returning to Indonesia for the third time, and now I was situated in Chiang Mai, in the north of Thailand, where I have decided to drop anchor for a while. You might believe it is because of fatigue, but I clarify, it is a yes, but what really has me exhausted, ARE MY EYES as well as the eye of the camera of my cell phone !!! WE ARE OVERTIRED !!! I could no longer fit one more image into my brain, I could no longer fit one more incomprehensible language, they are all incomprehensible. , those that use curves, circles, straight lines and those that mix everything up. They kill me, (I am now with one of the curves) because it cannot be spelled, to indicate some direction. Tired, of one more map of the city, of a currency to convert, tired of trying to understand the menu, of seeing how the ATM works, new streets to remember to know how to return to the hotel… .. !! No, no more !!! for a while. I want routine, I want to know where I have lunch or breakfast, I want to know my supermarket and know about what I buy, I want to know what it is, without surprises. I have not felt physical fatigue, only my eyes. Furthermore, I can't fit one more handicraft, all of them very beautiful, I can't fit one more pagoda, or one more landscape. My hard drive needs to be reset. Therefore, this time I will dedicate to deleting, and re-editing the 10,000 photos, !!!! PFFFFF COURAGE !!!!. I returned to my keyboard. And the funniest thing was that yesterday I asked reception for a calendar, I want to know what day of the week I am in. Here they give me a visa (my usual enemy) for only 6 months…. . TOO SHORT FOR MY LIKING, but perhaps for that date it is enough and back to being on the road again. You never know with me. I will relate an anecdote of my days of the subject. At the beginning of the 80s I was living in Paris, my father called me and asked - where will you be next month? I answered very convinced, Italy. His response was more than quick “I know exactly where you are NOT going to be ……” Hahaha. He knew beforehand what I hadn’t realised about myself… ..and things haven't changed. So from my past I learned that I don't make plans, because I'm sure I won't keep them.
In those last 6 months, the most remarkable thing was the wonderful, extraordinary and loving, company of my son, Peter, two months of his summer holiday. … .. This is a separate topic, which I will share later.
a small sequence of those months, so that there is not so much time left in the folder, memories that will be unforgettable for both of us forever, not only because of the adventure, but also because of sharing company with one another, day by day for two months, our domestic routines, “wash your teeth, flush the chain, what do we have for lunch? And so on all day. I felt blessed, and I was filled with pride to see him as a grown man, an upright man
It is confirmed in me, over and over again, that I am travelling alone as an old woman, now I do not call myself old, but I am in my "golden age", what a fantastic term, they are pure benefits even considering the natural wear and tear of the "golden age". More and more doors open for me, they are not temples or natural parks, but people. Travelling alone, with grey hair, with all the time in the world to dedicate myself to it, coming from a strange country, which arouses curiosity, my intention is always to communicate, to ask everything, to my easy smile. I only receive welcome.
I have started to reissue the first part of the blog, this is because I feel that I have just been loosening up in my writing, it has helped me a lot to return to literature in Spanish, instead of the gringo 'thriller' that I was previously was confined to. Still, I am not attracted to the "kindle". The pages with their smell, their colour between white and yellow depending on their age and the marks I make on them to mark my progress, thus leaving a trace in the book of my reading and all the beauty of having a book in hand. It requires me to have extra weight in my luggage, which is not easy to carry, and sometimes I pay extra for them because of their weight, but I still haven't loosened up ……. Yet. Peter, when he arrived in December brought me no less than 10 books. When I have lived abroad, which have been many times, I used to order wine, cheese, even Chilean bread. This time I only asked for books to which I entrusted my friends as a gift for birthdays, Christmas, Mother's Day, Woman’s Day, Elderly Day…. And I am grateful to them, I have been able to enjoy such an appreciated treasure. The photos will be the same, I don't have many of them. From time to time a reissued chapter will appear. There it is if someone is interested in recapping.
I will finish with Myanmar, which unfortunately was cut short for the reasons already expressed before making the previous closing, I feel that I lost the fluid thread of that surreal country, as I call it, I will return to it, as there is still much to share from that land that for me is practically incomprehensible in its life. I just realised that I was there 11 months ago, I am impressed by how fast time is going. To refresh the sensations and why not the knowledge (with my memory that was definitely weakened as a result of my stroke in September) or how to put on hold the many other more recent experiences that are so fresh ... I am sure that when I am "back into writing" the spark will emerge .
