This week in southern Thailand has really felt like rest and relaxation. It seems we needed a break from our pilgrimage. David found a somewhat isolated place, Poseiden Bungalows, which also runs three day live-aboard snorkeling trips out to the Similan Islands which are about four hours off the coast of Thailand (60 km). After a few nights in the bungalow and a couple of days getting used to the warm water of the Andaman Sea, we along with 13 others climbed aboard and headed out to sea. On the way out we saw a minke whale and flying fish. We went to about three different snorkeling spots that afternoon. We are right on the cusp between monsoon season and high (tourist) season which is great because it isn’t yet crowded, though the weather can be somewhat unpredictable. Some places had quite a bit of wave action and others a strong current. Some were blessed with both and a few had quiet water so that one could focus completely on the rich and colorful sea life. We swam with very friendly, very large sea turtles and an electric jelly fish as well as many angel fish, sergeant major fish, a water snake, parrot fish, unicorn fish, trigger fish and many others. David swam at each of the 10 snorkel stops but I passed on a couple that seemed particularly challenging. We were all exploring one of the islands, when the winds really picked up and the waves combined with the wind made it impossible for our dingy to safely get to shore to pick us up. As we watched, conditions continued to deteriorate. Fortunately, we were on an island in the tropics and knew we would survive the elements if we were stranded overnight. Even more fortunately, however, we were on the island that houses the Navy Rescue team for these Islands. They saw our predicament and came to our rescue with their large heavy duty pontoon boat. When we got out to our boat, however, our captain and the captain of the rescue boat realized that the sea was too rough for us to move directly from one boat to the other so we had to jump out of the raft and our crew pulled us in with a rope. We all made the transfer safely, cheered the Thai Navy rescue team, our own very competent crew and set down to another Thai feast that the cook and her assistant prepared in her closet of a kitchen amidst the storm and the rescue operation. The crew, the guide and the other 13 snorkelers were great to get to know. It was a very international group with at least 8 nationalities represented. We returned to our bungalow for a night, then headed out to the jungle which is about two hours away. We stayed in a bamboo hut on a raft in a huge lake surrounded by jungles and limestone mountains. It was gorgeous and full of exotic sounds. We were able to kayak along the shore and, thanks to our guide’s sharp eye, observe monitor lizards and langur monkeys, several long tailed macaque, and an iguana. As evening came, we saw about 15 gibbon monkeys gathering in one tree for the night. There was quite a symphony of bird song in the morning as David and I went for an early morning paddle in a soft warm rain. As we were having our first coffee, we saw a pair of great hornbills fly above us and land in a tree and take off again. They are very awkward flyers and are reminiscent of pterodactyls. Later in the day we did a short trek with our guide, a couple from Germany and a Japanese woman. We went over a pass to another lake, then into a cave filled by stalactites and stalagmites and formations like none that we had ever seen before. The cave was only discovered 5 years ago and is in quite pristine condition since it is difficult to get to. We are back in the bungalow and having spent the morning lounging on the beach, will have our last evening in this sweet place before we head to Bangkok to meet our friend Todd and see what unfolds in our final 10 days.

I had heard that southern Thailand had some nice beaches and good snorkeling sites, so we decided to catch a flight to Phuket. From there we took a taxi north to Khao Lak, a popular takeoff point for trips to the Similan Islands Marine National Park. The Similan Islands are 60 km west of Khao Lak, in the Andaman Sea. The nine islands of the park are surrounded by protected bays and coral reefs that are rich with sea life. The beaches are a soft, very fine pure white sand the consistency of sugar. There is some evidence of damage to coral reefs due to the tsunami of December, 2004. It hit this part of Thailand pretty hard. But there is new coral growing on the rubble of the old and there are plenty of fish making their homes here. We saw thousands of fish, from 18-inch blue and green parrot fish to schools of iridescent blue minnows. I saw a sea snake for the first time, a reptile about 3 ft long that crawls along the bottom like a land snake and periodically rises to the surface to take a breath of air. Cynthia and I had some very personal encounters with a large curious sea turtle who swam within inches of our faces before diving below us. One of the most interesting creatures I saw looked like a jellyfish — roughly cylindrical in shape, maybe three inches across and 2 inches top to bottom. The thing that caught my attention was the flashing lights inside the animal — looked like violet LED lights going on and off, similar to a firefly, but less regular. I have never heard of blinking jellyfish before, but I have heard of bioluminescent jellyfish that can glow. So I need to research this a bit more before I know whether I’ve come across a new species hitherto unknown to science. It turned out that we were diving at the time of a full moon and this is when baby jellyfish, literally millions of them, each about a quarter of an inch across rise to the surface in a big cloud. I had been wearing a silk undershirt to protect myself from the sun but I suspect it also served to trap baby jellyfish, who, not too happy about being trapped, naturally gave the offending piece of flesh a tiny sting. It felt like a slight tingling across my back. So now, three days later, my back and shoulders are covered with little itching red spots, slowly healing. After returning from the snorkeling trip, we decided it was time for the jungle. So we headed off for a two-day trip to Khao Sok National Park. On the way to the park, we stopped at a rubber tree plantation at the side of the road where a worker was busy collecting the latex that drips from the trees. Six days a week, after the monsoon season, workers start around midnight (or before for especially large plantations) carefully cutting away by hand a strip of bark on the rubber tree, which then starts to “bleed”. The rivulets of latex flow into a coconut shell attached to the side of the tree. By morning, the collecting shells are emptied into shallow trays where the latex starts to harden. After a few hours, the chunks of latex are removed from the trays and passed through a wringer (like the wringer on early washing machines, for those of you fortunate enough to be able to remember that far back) to remove the excess water. After running through the ringer, the piece of latex is 18″ X 36″, about half an inch thick, ready to be sold by the farmer who earns about $2 per kilogram. Khao Sok Lake is a large lake that recently formed after construction of a dam and a hydroelectric generating station. The lake is surrounded by huge limestone cliffs and dense tropical rainforest. It’s a fantastic place to just sit quietly and listen to the sounds. Birds, monkeys and many creatures you can only imagine. It rains frequently, as you would expect, but the rain is soft and warm and you realize there really isn’t any reason to try to stay dry. Our latest slideshows: Snorkeling http://www.flickr.com/photos/11790404@N02/sets/72157622634027761/show/ Rubber Production http://www.flickr.com/photos/11790404@N02/sets/72157622758272662/show/ Khao Sok Lake http://www.flickr.com/photos/11790404@N02/sets/72157622634142565/show/ Limestone Cave http://www.flickr.com/photos/11790404@N02/sets/72157622634046917/show/

Coming into the last week of our 18-week journey gives me an opportunity to reflect on the various fears I’ve harbored along the way, how I’ve tried to deal with them, and what’s actually come about. Even before we left our home on Whidbey Island, I had plenty of time to imagine all manner of disasters, calamities and misfortunes. It seems that planning and fear go hand in hand– you try to anticipate things that may go wrong, and attempt to minimize the risk of consequences. The first set of concerns had to do with the kora around Mt. Kailash, which includes crossing a mountain pass at an elevation of 18,600 ft. Any time a person goes that high, there is a danger of altitude sickness, or hypothermia, or freezing of fingers or toes. Altitude sickness is somewhat unpredictable and can occur even among those who have been or similar or higher elevations before. The recommended treatment is to descend to a lower altitude immediately, but when the base of the mountain is at 15,000 feet, you can’t go lower than that. In order to deal with this eventuality, I decided to rent a Gamow bag to take along in case of emergency, but as it turned out, neither Julian nor I had any significant difficulty with the altitude. With the perspective of hindsight, I would say that the Gamow bag was unnecessary. [In fact, at the last minute our Tibetan guide, without consulting us, didn’t bring the bag on the kora anyway.] Both Julian and I were relatively fit and we ascended the mountain more gradually than many others do. So while it was highly recommended by our trekking agency, if I were to do it again, I would leave the Gamow bag behind. Hypothermia or frostbite are usually the result of winter storms that can bring windy and cold conditions. We only had one night where the temperature dropped below freezing, so there was never any danger of frostbite on this trip. I had heard stories of people being bitten by dogs in Tibet, especially by the Tibetan Mastiff that can be particularly fearsome as it tries to protect its territory. Our Tibetan guide in Lhasa described one of his clients who got bitten when she went to pee behind a nomad’s tent. I had thought about trying to take along some pepper spray to have on hand, but didn’t do so. As it turned out, we saw plenty of dogs in Tibet, but they all seemed to ignore us as long as we ignored them. We never felt in danger of being bitten by a dog. I had also worried about having difficulty sleeping in Kathmandu or Lhasa where there are often dogs that bark a lot at night. A Nepali friend of ours, on a recent trip to Kathmandu had difficulty sleeping almost every night due to barking dogs. I took along some ear plugs and there were nights when there were barking dogs, but the ear plugs had limited effectiveness. So I wasn’t able to find a satisfactory remedy. Insomnia is an issue I deal with more frequently as I grow older. It’s not always easy to figure out why it happens when it does, though noises can definitely keep me awake. Certainly caffeine and alcohol contribute to the problem. I feel much better and sleep better when I don’t have any caffeine after noon and limit my intake of alcohol to no more than three drinks a week. But sometimes, even without caffeine or alcohol I find myself lying awake, feeling in need of sleep, but not feeling sleepy. The best remedy for this I’ve found is to get up and sit zazen. Usually 30-45 minutes of zazen will quiet my mind enough for me to fall asleep. Sometimes, I fall asleep soon after going to bed, then wake up around midnight or 2:00 am with insomnia. If I do some meditation then, it seems to help me to go back to bed and sleep. Sometimes, my insomnia is associated with muscle cramps. If I have over-exerted a set of muscles during the day, then for some reason, at night those muscles will cramp up and give me a “charley horse”. I’ve found that if I make a point of drinking lots of water, sometimes fortified with a calcium tablet, the cramps will go away. I feared that muscle cramps would be a problem on this trip, especially with the mountain trekking, but as it turned out, I never had any problem with this at all. Food and water-bourne illness was also something I was concerned about. When I was living in Nepal in the early 70s, I was extremely cautious about food and water. As advised by Peace Corps staff, I never ate any raw salads, except when the vegetables had been soaked in a solution of iodized water. And I never drank any water that had not been either boiled or treated with iodine. These were clearly effective measures then, as Westerners, who drank untreated water or uncooked food, often came down with diarrhea, giardia, amoebic dysentary, hepatitis or typhoid fever. So before we left, I was prepared to follow the same regimen. On this trip we carried a UV water purifier (Steri-Pen) and used it to treat the tap water we used for teeth brushing and some drinking. For drinking water in restaurants, we usually purchased bottled water. However, I also drank well water (for the first time) from homes in Nepal where we were invited to share meals. Neither Cynthia nor I suffered suffered any ill effects. We’ve been happily surprised that in all of our travel through these several countries, neither one of use has had any stomach problems at all. In all previous trips to Nepal, we have taken medication to prevent malaria. There are lots of mosquitoes, especially in the Terai, where we would be going to visit our friends in Taulihawa. But this time, we decided to forego the malaria medication and just bring along insect repellent. Also, we knew that dengue fever is common in Cambodia and Thailand. A friend of ours came down with a nasty case of dengue fever in Thailand recently. But since there is no vaccine or prophylactic for dengue fever, here too we were dependent on insect repellent, mosquito coils and mosquito nets for sleeping. I’m definitely not Buddhist when it comes to mosquitoes or the microbes in the blood that are responsible for malaria and dengue fever. Not only do I think it is necessary to kill those living organisms that cause illness in our bodies, but that it is perfectly reasonable to kill mosquitoes that land on our skin or hover around our bodies attempting to. I remember at a meditation retreat on Whidbey Island, during one particular round of zazen, I had mosquitoes land right on my nose and forehead. As they bit me, I kept telling myself, “There is no malaria on Whidbey Island. THERE IS NO MALARIA ON WHIDBEY!!” I could barely resist slapping the insects, but somehow the peer pressure of sitting motionless kept me from doing so. But here in the tropics where there IS malaria and dengue fever, I’m okay with slapping mosquitoes. I just wish I knew how so many people seem to be able to live here in the tropics with mosquitoes all around. They are certainly not using insect repellent, and you don’t see them killing many by slapping them. Occasionally, people do sleep under mosquito nets. I do know that the incidence of malaria and dengue fever are both high in this part of the world, but I guess my question is, why isn’t EVERYONE sick? I just don’t know. In fact, the not knowing seems to be a big part of all these fears. The not knowing is a given when you travel. It seems that an essential part of venturing out is acceptance of the unknown. It also helps when you travel with a partner who can help balance the fear and the fearlessness. Often when I am feeling a bit vulnerable or worrisome, Cynthia is the one who figuratively (or sometimes literally) gives me a shake to make me snap out it. Other times, when she starts to indulge in a bit too much speculation, I am the one to be decisive. It actually works out quite well. Also, it helps to have so many friends who wished us well in our travels. We feel the support connection all the time. And I still carry the tiger eye amulet in my pocket everyday as a reminder of that connection.

Ayuthaya is a city about 45 minutes north of Bangkok. It was the royal capital of Siam from 1350 to 1767, before Thailand was established with its capital at Bangkok. We spent three days there visiting some of the sights, including ruins of temples (called Wats) and monuments. Most of these were built in 14th and 15th centuries and show both Hindu and Buddhist influences. They are reminiscent of Angkor Wat in Cambodia. What struck me is how many of these temples seem to have been built by kings to accrue merit or for their own glorification. Several monuments were built in recognition of victories in subduing other peoples in warfare. In fact, it seemed a bit incongruous to see so many statues of the Buddha in places designed to honor persons with big egos and questionable achievements. Maybe we have just visited too many Buddhist temples on this trip. But it also brings up questions I have about the interrelated concepts of merit, karma, rebirth and reincarnation. The idea of doing “holy” acts in order to build up one’s own store of merit, with the idea that it will somehow help oneself after death seems to me misguided. It’s the same disillusionment I felt growing up with the idea that through good works, people can better their chances of going to heaven rather than going to hell. Except in a metaphorical sense, I just don’t buy it. And then there are the concepts of karma and rebirth that I really cannot get my mind around. I just don’t believe that any kind of individual personality or identity persists after death, except among the people who remember you. Don’t we have a responsibility to recognize when we are engaged in wishful thinking and set this aside? My own experience resonates much more closely with the Buddha’s teaching of anatta– that there really is no “self” there. It seems very simple and true. Why complicate it with endless conceptual webs of “good” and “bad” karma, karmic connections, rebirth and reincarnation? To me it just feels better to drop all that. As an alternative to visiting lots of Buddhist temples in Thailand, I decided to pick up a copy of the book, “Monk in the Mountain: Simple lessons you can use from a Western Buddhist monk,” by Ajahn Sumano Bhikkhu. Sumano Bhikkhu was born in Chicago. In the mid-1960s, he attended college and went to law school. He married and made a career in real estate. Then in his mid thirties, he quit work, divorced and took up his spiritual practice in the thudong lineage of Theravada Buddhism. Since 1991, he has been living in a cave near Ubonratchathani in eastern Thailand, following a strict regimen of meditation. His book reflects some deep wisdom, springing from his meditation practice. It’s a collection of questions from visitors to his cave and his answers. The idea of karma is a key point in many of his responses, and many of these are no doubt helpful. But his response (p66) to a woman who as a child had suffered sexual abuse by a male relative really stuck in my craw. He talked about the possibility that in a previous lifetime, perhaps she had committed some dastardly deed to this person, and that this was a process of karma working itself out. What nonsense! (In my not-so-humble opinion) The idea of karma as somehow providing just rewards for good or bad deeds seems to me like pure fantasy. I am reminded of an interesting exchange between Johannes, a sangha member at our own Tahoma Monastery on Whidbey Island with our teacher, Shodo Harada Roshi during a question and answer session a few years back. Johannes asked, “What is karma?” Roshi replied, “It’s not part of Buddhism.” !!! I always remember that with a smile.

We are happy we connected with our Whidbey Island friend, Todd, in Ayuthaya. As we are nearing the end of our journey, he was beginning his. It was lovely to have this intersection for an afternoon, after which we boarded a night bus for Chiang Mai in North Central Thailand. Though we were on a luxury bus with reclining seats, a good night’s sleep still eluded us. We arrived in Chiang Mai grateful to have booked a room in Riverside House, a small quiet bed and breakfast with a lovely garden. We were about 15 minutes walk from the center and right on the river which runs through the city. After spending a quiet first day, we set out to explore. Chiang Mai is absolutely loaded with temples and monasteries. I don’t think you can walk more than two blocks in any direction without finding at least one and often more. I was quite amused to come across one that had a large Donald Duck among all the other animals staged in its garden. It has surprised me to see a fair bit of kitschy stuff amongst the buddhas. Plaster and plastic figures and plastic flowers abound in all of Asia. One of our must do’s was a Prison Massage. We read in our guidebook that the women’s prison trained inmates about 6 months before release in a number of skills. One of these skills is Thai massage. Upon reaching a level of skill, they are able to work in the prison massage shop and the money collected is saved for their release. We had great massages and were put in some positions we hadn’t experienced before! Once again, we felt great about where our tourist dollars were going and that these women would leave prison with a way to earn a livelihood. The following day, we both took a Thai cooking class at an organic farm in the countryside. We first had a brief visit to a market where we were introduced to about 20 different kinds of rice. At the farm, we found all the fresh ingredients that we would pound into our green, red or yellow curry paste. Most of these ingredients grow year-round in Thailand which gives the food it’s wonderful freshness. Our teacher was a very charming and humorous Thai man, who, while showing us traditional methods and ingredients, offered encouragement to modify his recipes and make the food our own way with the ingredients available to us when we returned home. David and I are looking forward to giving it a try.