Saturday, October 22, 2005

Monk Call


Scribe 2, originally uploaded by camille94019.

My phone rang at 3 AM, friday morning. It happened to be by my bed, so I picked it up. For the life of me, I thought it was my alarm clock.

The voice on the other end was completely foreign. I recognized my name, which was repeated over and over, almost like a chant. I told the voice it was 3 AM here... he seemed rather shocked. Sitting at the Pagoda on a balmy afternoon, the flowers blooming, the air hot and sultry... its probably impossible to imagine that it could be any different on the other side of the world.

It was Sakol. The monk pictured above. He's coming to America soon and he wanted something, but between my comatose state and his issues with english, I never figured it out. I am imagining that he is leaving the monkhood. That saddens me. He'll grow out his hair. He'll wear jeans. Maybe he'll even go to wild Hollywood parties. He won't be as cute, but he'll have a more choices in America and clean water. I wish him well.

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I blog about life and soup, but mostly soup.

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