Chapter Five:
Myanmar:
Myanmar wasn’t
as pretty Thailand. Again, we weren’t here for the tourism. Still, I hoped that
we didn’t have to stay long. It’s my choice on how long we are staying on this
journey, after all. Speaking of which, An led me to another temple. This one was
much smaller than the last three that we had been to. Only a single priest
greeted us.
“Welcome,
sisters,” he said at the entrance.
“Welcome,” An
said. I looked between the two, curious. They seemed to have known each other
for years. The priest’s eyes turned on me.
“Is this Bich?”
he asked. I held behind An as I gasped.
“Yes,” she said.
An pushed me forward.
“H-H-H-Hi,” I
murmured. The priest gave me a little smile.
“Nice to meet
you, Bich,” he said. My eyes trailed down to my feet.
“She hasn’t had
much contact with men, has she?” the priest asked in a hushed voice.
“No,” An said. I
gritted my teeth. No, that’s not it, lady.
Don’t be making up stuff! An and I followed the priest into the small
temple. Turns out, he had been in this little temple since he was twenty-nine.
That old man pretty much talked our ears off that first night. I couldn’t really
blame him because this temple was in the middle of nowhere. We were literally in
an empty rice field surrounded by grass, rice paddies, and not much else. Plus,
we stayed there for close to three months.
Yeah.
I couldn’t
imagine living like him into old age. An probably could wing it, but the more I
looked at her, the more I wasn’t too sure. Maybe. She looked like she could. I
lowered my chopsticks.
“What made you
want to become a priest?” I asked him.
“My village was
dying,” the priest said with his eyes to his bowl. I tilted my head.
“So you were
like me? My village was in a famine, so my mother gave me over to the nuns to
care for me.”
“Yes, my child.”
He lifted his head. “Myanmar has had a rough history. My village was nearly
wiped out from hunger and illness. My father and a few of the village elders
sent us children away to the city. Some survived while others didn’t. I managed
until my teen years.” He put his hands behind his head.
“I joined a
temple when I couldn’t find work. It was difficult for a youth like me, I had
didn’t have any other choices. Even when things grew worse in this country, I
didn’t give up. Eventually, my original temple was destroyed by storms and war.
I was left wandering for two years until I came out here to this falling apart
temple. And I haven’t left since.” He noticed the strange look on my face.
“Oh, I
apologize,” the priest said. “I didn’t mean to be so depressing.” I shook my
head.
“It’s fine,” I
said. “I was in a similar situation myself.” I took the last bite of my rice.
“How was your
dinner?” the priest asked.
“Good,” I said.
“I enjoyed it.” An bowed her head.
“Thanks for the meal,” she muttered in a low voice. We stayed with that talkative priest from March to the first of June. I think I still miss that old man. I hope he’s found new people to talk to again.