Thursday 4 March 2010

More than a thousand words

The cow dung drying business by the Ganga, Varanasi.

Ganga, Varanasi, looking north.

Not seeing scandinavians for 3 weeks, suddenly there were 5 at the Varanasi train station.

Nice view near the Achanakmar tiger reserve. (We saw no tigers.)

Sunset from the same roadtrip.

Interesting fusion. Buddha, Jesus and Gandhi.

One of my friends chilling with the coolest drink ever.

Tibetan monastery, Bodhgaya.

Vietnamese monastery, Bodhgaya.

Some Japanese monks, temple caretakers and me chilling during the Holi festival.

Some culprits.

Wednesday 3 March 2010

Little lost monk

I am walking back to the Bhutanese temple, where I have a mattress, as a young monk comes up to me with a flashing smile, with his hand outstretched.
"Hello my friend!" he almost cries, as he jumps into a hysterical hug.
"I'm fine, I'm fine!" I reply, as I try to understand his reaction. He is not a local, and looks very much like a monk; i quickly assume he is not a thief or scam-artist and I allow him to get physical.

We exchange a few curtsies, as he asks:
"Have you got a girlfriend?"
"No, sadly not, and I am getting old," I laugh.
"No, do you have a girlfriend for me?"
I laugh nervously and say that I do not. I explain that I am tired, and that I am going back to my room. He follows me, and as we walk, he shouts out to people at the road, a blend of his native language, english, and grunts.
"Nice festival going on", I say as we see a lot of Indians covered in multicolored powder walk past us. "Holi is really special".
"Thank-you-very-much" he says quickly. At this stage I am quite sure that something, or rather he, is a little "half twelve", as we say in Norwegian.

He follows me into the compound, and I try to explain to him that I can't bring guests. He says that's no problem, and follows me further, in a very energetic way. I tell him off a bit more, and he want's to go to the office, which I know is closed. After some consideration I choose to lead him to the nearest monastery of which I think he belongs to.

"You have changed color," he says suddenly, and grabs my necklace.
"No, I am still the same me, I think," as I wonder if he'll go physically whacko with me, and if I can subdue him. "Like my necklace? It's sort of the same as you have."
He fingers it for a while, settles down, and we walk on.

At the first monastery we find the only monk that is awake, but he won't help us, as he has a visit from his father. He tells me which monastery the first monk belongs to, and leaves, to my protests. I see no alternative but to continue.

I notice that my new friend is very warm, so I buy him water, of which he drinks incessantly. As we pass a billboard, he reads some of it aloud, shouts to some locals in gibberish, and laughs. We get to his monastery, and before I can say "My friend here is a little confused," they have already taken a good hold of him.
"Well, take care of yourself, and drink plenty of water!" I get to say, before he is escorted further into the compound. A few of the monks nod their head in thanks, or perhaps wonderment, and I leave.