I did it. I bought a pair of those Aladdin-style pajama pants with the elephants on them. The paper thin, rayon kind. It’s quite similar to being home in LA and sneaking out to Trader Joe’s in “shouldn’t be seen in” sweat pants.
Today we’re on a $5 minibus ride to Cambodia (now that’s a sentence I wouldn’t have put together before this trip). My highlight four days into my Thailand experience was last night. We happened, quite spontaneously, into a buddhist temple finally leaving the confines of Khaosan Road and venturing out into the city. How I prefer the local flavor to the “Vegas” style strip.
It’s remarkable how similar this city is to say, parts of Sicily or even NYC. Bangkok is dirty. I love the feminine nature of this place. Must be all the moonlighting or retired lady boys. They’re sweet and pretty. Our travel agent was a kind, natural beauty.
As we explored the smoggy outskirts, we heard Monks chanting from the street. After asking permission, we headed into the temple grounds. Everyone’s flip flops were outside the temple staircases. Inside there were many lavish gold Gods and Buddhas, a money tree, a comfy red carpet and a few kindergarten style, plastic chairs.
The ceremony started with prayers, then shifted into sing-chanting. It was beautiful. It was peaceful. The worshippers joined in like a well-rehearsed choir. It felt like an ocean’s wave of ohms resonating through my body. I was cross-legged on the floor and happy.
You can follow Cynthia’s stories, and become a “fan” at The Huffington Post.
She is also writing for Amnplify – the Australian Musician Network.
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