Sin

it's synonymous with tradition
even though the word itself just means "skirt"
if you're female, and you're visiting a temple or government office, you must wear one


for foreigners: covering up your arms + legs will do. for guys, a collared shirt. but if you're a woman in this society, it's a non-negotiable. it's not akin to the Korean hanbok, worn only for weddings or festivals. respectable older women wear the sin (pronounced seen) around the house. the ceremonial ones are brushed, stiff silk, while the everyday ones are cotton. it falls almost to the ankles, and it's a rather straight, tubular fit. for special occasions, a long-sleeved blouse of the same material + an embroidered sash will do


unless you're a city girl. if you're a 20-something here + you wear a sin around, people call you a country bumpkin. old fashioned. the young people wear short shorts + T's, or Forever-21-esque tanks with strings + lace.

+ when they do go to weddings, they'll break out with a sin, but it won't look like their mom's. it'll have a high riding slit, + they'll wear a low-cut matching silk top with an open-back. the old people will tsk tsk: "a sin isn't supposed to look like that." or they'll wear a Western dress - the tighter + shorter, the better. they make em for little girls too


@ weddings, they do a traditional dance with the guys in the middle, and the girls on the outside. just side-step slowly with your partner and move your hands up + to the music. or there's a slow line dance with toe-tapping and sashaying. feels like a medieval courting ritual, combined with Texas two-stepping, + throw in some Korean old-folks karaoke music.

it's not any freaky stuff; nobody even gets closer than a couple of feet. the respectable dads are up there. but as soon as the young girls came prancing onto the patio, they had the guys' attention. something about a young girl moving her body with music, does that. i still haven't decided if that's unnatural or evil, and under which circumstances. i always thought if it's slow music your parents like, and you're not touching, + it's not too dark + there's no alcohol, then it must be ok...but i dunno anymore. maybe it's from my sordid past of racy memories in nightclubs, or maybe my standards of modesty have changed from being in a more conservative Asian culture.

all i know is, there's always going to be the type of girls who'll show more skin + cast more flirtatious looks than they should. + the guys that notice them.


+ there's always going to be the type of girls who'll choose to keep themselves covered up + act more modestly...as stuffy + old-fashioned as it might seem. + the guys that notice them.

their world is changing so fast, a whirlwind dance that's remapping millenia of habits + attitudes + sin-lengths. in the West, the powerful force of female sexuality has been unleashed, liberated, all up in your face. a freedom that ironically, comes with its own set of chains. it's fascinating to see the East wrestle with this conundrum: how to embrace progress without scandalizing their heritage?

I wonder what their sin will look like in 10 years

Loss

i've lost 16 lbs in 6 weeks
i did get food poisoning this week (that helped)
but it's also because i'm sweating all day from the heat


+ riding my bike all around town
+ i don't really eat processed foods anymore
(just soybean oil, ketchup, tomato paste)
on a local salary, you can only afford local food: lots of rice, veggies, fruits

i'm losing all the extra baggage i was lugging around in the states
the extra calories i thought i couldn't live without
feels like i'm being boiled down to the essentials


along w/ the 95% of my wardrobe i left behind
my books
my camping gear
my minivan
living with 5% is simpler
less to worry about
clean + polish + preen about
keep up appearances + insure + stress about

amazing how little i really need to live
it's a lot less than i thought
i'm proud of myself, really


+ then i visit a dormitory for a local school
it's smaller than my living room
it houses a dozen girls
they could fit 20 people in my spacious hallway

last night, i see a man rummaging through my trash for scraps
he's covered in filth, like that guy on Charlie Brown
he smiles @ me as I pass by. content
with all that i have, how is it that i'm so discontent?


i still have much more to lose

Tying Knots

I've been here a month
the neighbors have already invited me to a wedding. this neighborhood is one big family, and one of the boys is getting married. we drive 20 minutes on dusty country roads + come up to what looks like: a giant Korean pojangmacha (outdoor restaurant) with tacky green-blue netting + wooden posts. a sound system + pails of ice + bottles of beer on rickety fold-up metal tables


the groom's family marches up to the bride's house to much hooping + hollering + drumming + dancing. toasting of Johnny Walker Red + more hollering. the couple, both dressed in traditional garb, duck into a bedroom to do the basi ceremony


an older male relative chants in an ancient tongue. relatives tie strings + money on their wrists, + chuck handfuls of raw rice (rice + eggs are symbols of fertility). little kids peering in the windows to catch a glimpse. old ladies eat chicken + beer in the corner


+ it's all over in 20 minutes, the ceremony anyway. the reception lasts all day. at least 300 guests and only 2 tables but somehow everyone gets fed in orderly fashion. rice noodles with fish sauce, a spicy raw beef salad, and a water buffalo stew


felt like 2 families were getting married: mingling, eating, dancing (traditional, none of that freaky American stuff). a day at the beach kinda. the bride + groom didn't seem stressed at all. no schedule, no fancy programs, no bridal registry, no "gift-drop-off" station. my friend + i brought a bag of apples, but nowhere to put em, nobody to accept em. as if they were saying: just come + eat + enjoy this moment with us!

made me wonder about the symbolism of our Western weddings. a schedule for everything + a chapel to decorate + gifts to compile. + who made up the garter/bouquet toss thing anyway?

+ does it reflect the principles of the 1st (jewish?) wedding? should it?. the cultural + spiritual always tangled together like so much string. i wonder if it will ever get untangled here. + if so, will it look like a faded carbon copy of the West, a lifeless mime? or will it end up a more knotted-up, confused mess than before?

or perhaps it will be re-born into something new, beautiful, familiar, but unique. the kind that is made anew when love + truth finally kiss

Dust

the kids here don't cry much
they're shy + quiet
+ they always look a little dirty


we're driving down an unpaved country road pocked w/ potholes, dusty + bumpy + noisy + uncomfortable. in the back of a songthaew (a converted pickup truck) w/ our backs leaning against a thinly-padded railing. once in a while, we hit a jarring bump + passengers in the back hang on for dear life. or the driver brakes suddenly + everyone slides on top of each other. it's 90% humidity as usual + the sun is out. water buffalo crossing randomly. it smells of musty swamp, chicken poop, outdoor vendors (over)grilling meat. without warning, a motorbike roars past + orange dust is flying everywhere


one of the little kids has to take dramamine; last time she threw up mid-ride. the kids are hot + tired, sleeping in awkward positions on people's laps. not enough room, so one girl is asleep on the metal truckbed, bunched over a backpack.


i can't help but think, these poor kids. if they were in America, they'd be in a clean, air-conditioned, leather-upholstered SUV, dozing off to a Brahms lullaby in supreme comfort. instead, they're bouncing around a junky pickup w/ bad shocks, cracked padding, + an open back that gets sprinkled with fine dirt particles everytime a motorbike flies by. a little girl is eating a banana with one hand, and covering her mouth with the other to keep the dust out.

no A/C
no DVD player
no Ninentendo DS
no leather seats
no clean, quiet cabin


it's saturday
the parents are out visiting some new friends in their "village"
instead of sitting @ home, bored, playing w/ the same toys
they're out getting their hands dirty w/ their parents
learning to live + to love



i felt bad @ 1st because i thought they were suffering
but i shouldn't have
they're the ones who are really living
building dirtcastles with their Father

Holiday

The entire city is shut down. the bustling morning market is relegated to a ghost town. 100s of 1000s of worshippers from all over southeast asia along with 1000s of monks have gathered to worship here. it's the full moon on the 12th lunar month, the holiest day in theravada buddhism. + here is their holiest site, a temple that contains the breastbone of Buddha.


it's 5:30am. the dawn rays slowly filter through the cloudy charcoal sky. worshipers place flowers, light incense, and pray at the concrete "altar" that surrounds the temple, then lay out mats and wait. suddenly, a monk begins to chant in a monotone over the loudspeakers, which the people repeat. prostrations. hands clasped in prayer. more chants. @ one point, 2 candles are lit. some memorized prayers they sing-song in unison.

the night before, was the final procession into the temple to welcome the wandering spirits of the deceased. unbridled joy, because the dead shouldn't see you mourning. people dancing to portable boombox speakers, carrying huge towers of yellow flowers in the shape of a beehive, crisp bills tied together, flapping in the wind, along with incense and candles. a massive crowd clambers through a 10-foot wide entrance to circumambulate the holy temple 3x, once for the Lord Buddha, another time for his teachings, and lastly for the monks: the mediators of merit, mystical knowledge, bringing good luck and warding off the bad.




The almsgiving to the monks happens each morning at 6am as they walk from house to house, or every 15 days at the temple, when the spirits roam again. But on this special day, and in this special place, the merit received is even greater. for such a transcendantally-oriented belief system , there is a curious emphasis on time and place.




All for a better rebirth in the next life. The rich have expensive bills, the poor have bills worth less than a dime. Folded + tucked neatly in their ornate metal bowls, along with boiled eggs, sticky rice, snack cakes for the monks, and a bottle of water (or an M-150 energy drink) for a drink offering, made for the thirsty spirits of deceased relatives.

The serious ceremonies of the pre-dawn are for the devout, while the rest of the day is for the common folks. Families sprawled out on bamboo mats, vendors selling chicken and noodle soup and chilies and meatballs frying in woks. Even bumper cars blasting loud rap music. Combine the excitement of a county fair with the solemnity of an Easter mass, in a culture that is uberly-proud of its heritage.




During some of the early morning chants, I caught some of the words. But others, were spoken in an ancient dead language that even some of the monks merely memorize. It made me think of how easily ritual can override meaning. I remember having to explain the significance of St. Patty's Day to a foreigner once: "Umm...you wear green + you get drunk." Perhaps that's how Christmas can morph into shopping + gluttony. Instead of the spiritual transforming the secular, the two become indistinguishable. + the holy day becomes nothing more than a holiday.