Every day is monk day

Today, I spent the majority of the afternoon chatting with a Buddhist monk. One of the major temples has created a program in Chiang Mai called "Monk Chats." So many tourists view temples but never have the chance to speak to a monk. This program is designed to answer questions on both sides, whether from the monk about the visitor's culture or vice versa. The monk I spoke with, whom I know affectionately refer to as "my monk," is named Sunthorn (soonthorn) and is from Cambodia. His parents encouraged him to become a monk for the opportunities it provides to study. All things considered, monks are revered, if not cherished in society so one could hardly find a better opportunity. From what he said, monks can enter to study religion or to practice it. Sunthorn is interested in studying and this was his best opportunity.

As a monk you live for free at a wat as long as you follow Buddhist guidelines and rules. You live in a wat among other monks, no dancing, drinking alcohol, no ladies. Several hours of your day are spent chanting, and often with others in their support. Your daily life is an exploration of faith of all kinds. Sunthorn lives in the most elaborate wat I visited in Chiang Mai.

Sunthorn started the conversation about nuns in the States. I still have many questions, but think women are only allowed to speak to monks after having been addressed by one. We had a few moments of translation gridlock and resorted to his handy dictionary, which turned into a bit of a dance. Women are also prohibited from touching monks or passing them things directly, so trading the dictionary back and forth proved tricky. I could thumb the dictionary, then turn it his direction and point to the word, then remove myself. At that point, he would zone in on the word and our worlds reconvened. His name means cook or smooth-talker, while mine is supposed to mean grace. I know. How often does any of us live up to a name? He laughed when I told him grace, thinking I'd said grease, a word that I have definitely managed to live up to lately. We also discussed family, marriage, even gay marriage.

I learned also that if you wish to leave the life, you are able. There is no problem with moving on, getting married, having children, unlike other religions. Traveling, you do your best to respect the culture around you. And I have crossed paths with monks, usually stepping aside to let them pass first, and now I understand a bit more about them. I felt honored talking to a monk and was happy at the chance to speak to one.

I lunched at a wonderful spot called AUM Vegetarian. The house classic, and its rendition of the Chiang Mai speciality, I had kau soi. Crispy and soft egg noodles with mushrooms, cabbage, tofu, potatoes and red onion in a spicy coconut milk broth, talk about heaven. Who needs meat when you've got something this good?

All over Chiang Mai, someone has put up these stickers. And I mean everywhere. After googling it, looks like he/she is in fact everywhere. From the US to China, global. What a shame. With all that effort, imagine what one could do were it more than just stickers...