Today I recalled the title of the second episode - An Unfamiliar ceiling. I woke up in the morning and it was the third ceiling this week. Tomorrow I will see the fourth and the day after the fifth. Nothing wrong with that. There's only one ceiling that I really miss - it's the one sprinkled with millions of stars. And is blue grayish when you wake up, with all your stuff wet with dew, you swear because is cold and you have to wake up and go on, sometimes you even have no food for breakfast, but you put your backpack on and go on. Mad at yourself, why do I have to endure all this, but soon you see your only friend, the sun, you find a nice spot and let him warm you up. And you can just smile. Yes, that is so cool. Hopefully you find something to eat for lunch.
There's a small village in southern Istria called Brtonigla. It's a cursed village, cursed by me. I woke one morning, it was like the above mentioned, but I was not walking, I was horse riding. You wake up like crap after riding all the day, many days in row, believe me. But it all turns to something magic after few hours. And the magic is gone, if you're riding in summer through a country with no rivers. And I came to Brtonigla and asked for some water. Not for me, I can have a beer, for the horse. No. Nowhere. I will pay for it. No. No. No. I left the village and cursed it.
Yesterday I found Brtonigla in Korea. Is way way bigger, but gave me the same feeling. I was in no such urge like finding water for my horse, but the feelings are same. I'm used to nice Korean people. Yes, you find morons everywhere, I met many of them here, but they were scattered, not just put together like in Daejon. I may have bad luck, but it can't be that I met twenty cretins in a row. I'm used to Koreans who just shake their head in apology because they don't speak English. Why should they? It's fine with me, I thank them anyway. But I'm not used to be ignored when I ask a question. Neither I'm used to be shouted at just for asking for directions. When the final slap came, I wanted to kill somebody. I never tought, and I mean NEVER, that in Korea I will have a Japanese experience. When in Nagasaki I was forbidden to enter a bar because I'm a gaijin, I didn't really care much. I knew it's part of Japan, so why bother. But in Korea? Thank you, Daejon.
I put a curse on you, may your doors be closed for ever.
In the morning sun the bad mood was almost gone. I also had a heart warming destination, the place where it all begun two years ago. It's all so fresh in my memory like it was last week. Finding the way was so easy and even when the clouds covered the sky it still seemed a perfect day to me. I recognized every step of the path I was walking. I clearly remember this tombs when they were covered with snow...
They seemed like this.
And I remembered the rain that was pouring on me on that day, I rememberd it so much that I almost felt it again... no, it was not just a feeling. Fuck, it's started to rain! And wet like two years ago I came back to the temple Musang sa.
In a way I wanted to meet some of the monks, in other not. It came out the last. Everybody was busy with something in the buildings, so I was alone to go to the Buddha Hall . When I entered it was such a familiar feeling... almost like coming home. The delicate fragrance of the incense, not the heavy smell of the Indian or Tibetan ones, that are commonly used in the west. In Japan and Korea we use way more refined ones. The warmness of the place, the memories. I took a praying mat and strated to prostrate. It didn't matter that I walked many kilometers and my legs were aching. I just did it. And I left, with no hellos and no goodbyes. Empty as i wasn't for a long time. And on my way back to Gyeryong it started snowing. Like two years ago, when I was leaving the temple.
a te potemtakem kmalu čaka še eno ključno srečanje?
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