a story.

I met a monk yesterday. I was roaming the courtyards surrounding Wat Pho (Temple of the Reclining Buddha) just after a heavy rain, stepping sideways to narrowly avoid fresh puddles while wrestling with my camera strap to get that PERFECT shot of the orange-robed monks shuffling around the base of the nearby chapel as tourists and Thais recited prayers and lit ceremonious candles. So anyway, naturally I was caught off gaurd when a smiling monk approached me and asked where I was from.

"Er...New York City" I replied lamely, sure that he was going to reprimand me for using a camera in the temple grounds.

"Ah, the United States of America" he nodded, making me realize how presumptious I was to assume everyone knows every city in America. Way to go.

We started chatting, mostly about the U.S., he telling me about a trip he made to Calfornia a few years back, having been sponsored by an American woman who wanted the monk to teach her son Thai.

It all seemed quite ordinary, until he asked me if I wanted to teach English. At first I thought he was inviting me to sit in on one of his classes about Buddhism, which I learned he taught often through a series of tidbits of information and the giggling group of Thai schoolgirls standing behind him who he referred to as his students. When I was handed a cell phone by another monk - yes, monks carry cell phones tucked into the pockets of their robes- who had already dialed a number, I realized I was talking to an English speaking woman on the other end who asked if I would be interested in teaching an English class to students at the Temple. I told her, YESYESYYES!!!!...ok more like, "Um, well yeah, definitely, I'd be very interested"...and then she told me to meet her at the Temple office on Sunday at 9:00 am.

So there it is. A sign. The ONE thing I have always been sure I'd be good at, or at least find worthwhile, finds me in Bangkok, Thailand.

Fin.

P.S. To be continued...

P.P.S. Isn't the little girl behind the gate beautiful?