Smells like teen spirit

If July 4th was zen-like, then July 5th was nirvana. It will be one of those days that I remember for the rest of my life. The day started off with me driving--my motorcyle again--to a rural temple on the Mekong River. The only monk there happened to have lived in San Antonio for a few years. We drank tea and spoke about Buddhism for several hours all by ourselves in the temple's great hall.

After the Buddhism discussion/lesson I got back on the motorcycle and drove further out into the countryside. I pulled over when I saw 20 Thai women working in the rice fields, meaning only to take a few pictures and briefly speak with them. I asked them to teach me how to gather and transplant the rice. They were absolutely astounded and I imagine that they were asking each other--they spoke ZERO English--what the hell a gigantic white man was doing in their rice fields. It was all fun and games for the first 20 minutes--then these ladies put me to work! Harvesting and transplating rice shoots is not easy.

I spent 5 back-breaking hours stooped over in the mud and water-filled plots. They were thrilled to have me and I was thrilled to be there working along side them. I harvested, transplanted, drove a tractor, sang songs, and got really dirty. Good times! I must have proven my worth because they invited me to a barbeque at day's end. (I have never eaten so many types of unidentifiable meat products--not even in hot dogs. Ugh.) We spent a few hours barbecuing and singing Thai (folk?) songs.

They still weren't through with me yet, and one of the families invited me to their house for dinner and whiskey. I lost count of how many marriage proposals I turned down over the course of that day. They insisted that I stay the night at their house, and only relented after I promised that I would come back to the rice fields the next morning. More smiles and hugs all around. If you want to see more pictures of my time with the rice farmers, click on the smiling woman:

Golden Triangle