Don't Mess with my Teeth

It was time to get my veneers on my teeth replaced. A crazy orthodontist when I was a kid pulled 4 eye teeth out of my mouth at 13 when my jaw was not even developed and I was slow to mature anyway, essentially screwing up my bite forever. He actually over-dosed me on anesthesia, resulting in me tripping for a day and a half and yelling at my mom to leave me alone. Wrongly attributed to an allergy, and then to adolescent rebellion, my mom didn't know I was gay, the source of much anger. A loner only because society made it clear they hated me, I felt. I can still bring up the memory of me being escorted out of the office higher than a kite. I had braces twice, and I cursed him out later as an adult calling just to say, “You made money off my suffering.” Not exactly a bright thing to do, but that me twenty-five years ago. I kept them and had a hippie woman make Macramé a necklace of them in high school, never quite understanding until now that it was yet another symbol of my pain. I have veneers solely to beef up the teeth to make up for the ones pulled. They broke during the seizures I had with my near death in 1994, cutting into my tongue, and lower lip. Thankfully, I was so mentally gone I was in no pain, then. Yet another reason to enjoy the fruits of my brain injury, which has never come up in Vipassana ...as something I need to deal with. I have really effectively moved this into gratitude for who I am now.



Anyway, in the dental office today as the temporaries broke for the second time, meaning I won’t be able to eat food, only liquid until the real deal is put back in. I was thinking more about the money this would cost me, is enough to support a family of five in Myanmar, recalling the family I helped there. Looking at the ceiling light above me in the room, I thought about how foolish it is, to fix teeth on a man past his prime. Who I am trying to impress? Certainly, I don’t want my partner, family and friends to disregard any wisdom I can share, based on the fact that I have let myself go. I am still a member of their society, and as such… I have be play by their rules. It is for my health first and my ego second, but I would like wisdom above all.

“Now I'm just letting you know about these things... the suffering that arises from within, that arises within our own bodies. There's nothing within the body you can depend on. It's not too bad when you're still young, but as you get older things begin to break down. Everything begins to fall apart. Conditions go their natural way. Whether we laugh or cry over them they just go on their way. It makes no difference how we live or die, makes no difference to them. And there's no knowledge or science, which can prevent this natural course of things. You may get a dentist to look at your teeth, but even if he can fix them they still eventually go their natural way. Eventually even the dentist has the same trouble. Everything falls apart in the end.” — Ajahn Chah

We Are the Sum Total ...of What?

Are we are really only a sum total of everything we have experienced and have been taught? This came up during my ten-day Vipassana sit, of which 7 of the 11 hours a day were spent in a pagoda cell. My ways of dealing with life seem to be solely a product of what I have been taught combined with what I, as a gay child experienced. Not that I can’t unlearn some things, it just seems like the panic of having no where to go, and no one to turn to, even as a role model. Or even someone to explain to me why everyone is so hurtful. I was lucky enough to have some common sense and a few survival skills based mostly on the love that my Mom and I shared the first four years of my life, before my siblings came into being.

When the neighbor kid was playing with his friend, I did not join in, mainly because I knew love was never supposed to be an outcome. I felt this might be my reaction to any sexual affection, my intuition said stay away. The same when someone was interested in me in freshman year of college. Yet, in junior high and high school I had to mainly deflect the bullies and my parents crazy assumptions that two of the woman who were in my life were even remotely interesting. As a kid, I had firmly made a decision during a "birds and bees talk" that I was never going to have sex with a woman, for me it was un-natural. As a adolescent, one woman was an ugly bull dike that I worked with, and I had to be nice to her or she would kick my ass. Later, the other woman was an attractive and more affluent, yet lost in a sea of deadbeat straight men. The dike, I now feel ...served a purpose, she was physically uglier than I felt internally about myself at the time. When she threw a hammer at me over something dumb, and hit my arm…she was terminated from my life. It was time to move on, to where I met the other woman. Kinder and gentler, she knew deep down about me, but did not want to face it. I was more like a masculine mirror of her. Many years later, she was in town and I hope she did not agree to have lunch with the idea I might be a candidate for a relationship. When we parted it was for forever, and so I am beginning to think that she had other ideas. Did I have to play straight in order to survive. confusing others? It worked until my roommate in college ‘found’ magazines hidden under my mattress, in a planned attack to expose me among three friends studying in my room…my whole world was collapsing at the same moment some gay freak was stalking me. Embarrassed, I had to tell my R.A., and eventually my parents before someone else told them. Then I quit college and ran far away.

Running to a ski town, I landed with three other misfits, sadly all straight, I was no better off. But I held out for love, wanting my first relationship with a boy to be what I really needed and imagined. This intuition helped guide me into a few successful relationships, and kept me healthy. And my rejection by society as a kid, growing up helped form my phony elitism, where I set higher and higher standards. I went through this confusion and hurt from my childhood in my ten-day Vipassana, I cried for the kid who had nowhere to go…this cry came out in the form of anger. Anger that exhausted me the first day in appeared in my pagoda cell, to the point of folding over in a seated posture, snoring and fast asleep. It died down over three days, and worked itself out.

All this pain had wrapped my heart in "black tape", and it felt great to dissolve it. I never feared it, and actually looked forward to each sit, so when Metta came next it actually seemed like the perfect natural transition. I recalled the woman who helped to inspire me on this path, thanked her profusely. I was lucky enough to be able to say good-bye by email before she died, since I was far away at the time. She died happy, because she gave it all she got, natural love. This same natural love is my heart's true nature, and she knew this.

Bagan Photos

I could not say it better, but this signals my next ten days of Vipassana, see you in March!

Homage

to the peace of Moe Wai

Bagan Ends with What my Heart Wanted

This 5 part story starts with "Unexpected Kindness In Bagan" below

Later, back at the guesthouse, I saw how much money I had left and thought about giving it to my friend. I ran into the two women I saw in Mandalay who would not bring the $2 bill, surprised to see me. I was cordial and said I came back to help the boy(who helped me) and his family it was already a clear intent at that point. Knowing that they share everything they have as a family. It seemed so extravagant to use my remaining money on solitary travel, now that I know them and saw what they face everyday. A chance encounter allowed me to wake up, yet again. I could give them 205,000 Kyat (about $250) I had left, asking my friend if this would help when we were talking at a temple. It was then, that he told me his appendix operation used the 115,000 kyat they had saved for a used motorcycle, and he was so happy and grateful. I kept wondering in my head, what if they did not have the money for his operation. Just that afternoon, Mom had to bicycle to a far away village to chop trees for money, he told me when we talking at temple. At no time did he ever give me the impression that they needed money. They were very friendly, void of any requests, and certainly casual in interaction. It would help him when he goes to college which is far from the village they live in, and for his family to get around for work too far for a bicycle. You know they often ride three on a bike.

I decided to bring the money to dinner that his family wanted to prepare for me to give it to his father, so they could buy a used motorcycle or whatever they wanted. I put no restrictions on my gift. He and his brother picked me up on the old worn out motorcycle they had borrowed with no lights on it. And this time Mom and family were not embarrassed to have me eat at the house instead of in the garden, and she could try out the rice cooker and a neighbor told her what works best for ratios with their rice. She made my favorite fried fish and hot peanuts along with 10 other Burmese dishes all prepared with firewood. We talked and ate, my friend and I, while the family had eaten earlier this time. The youngest boy of 4, played a drum with great precision and joy, and kept us laughing. I had the following day until three to see a few more out of the way temples I missed before, but I told him I had no demands. It is up to you, he would say. Time was flying by but this time I felt this was a natural ending to what my heart needed to do. In the morning we met and I bought him over a year’s worth of floss, and his Mom a half-kilo of curry powder she could never afford. I knew he did not chew betel nor smoke or drank, and could keep his teeth if he took care of them. In my head I am thinking about when I return to help him with a dental care and make sure he went to college. The rest of his family it is too late with all the betel they chew, even his 24 yr old brother. My friend had the most opportunity with his morals and goals with his college planned to help change his family’s future.

My last day we went to his father’s old temple where he had ordained, at my friend’s age. It had extensive underground caves to meditate in, some even tiled. It had fallen from popularity as the monks matured, but the whole area is very devout, but I feel that economics dictate that more people had to work or sell to tourists to eat. I would like to ordain there, because it is away from the tourists and could offer me time to develop my Jhanas. We sat on a quiet bench and said our good byes in a relaxed manor knowing I would return to at least see him follow his dreams. We sat down to meditate in the temple to wrap it up, and he gave Thanaka gift he bought. He made the whole trip special with his natural friendliness and made it into a real human experience rather than a photo journey. It really was not a sad goodbye, we both knew that the world just got a little smaller or my family bigger! I have chosen not to show a photo the family out of respect. END

Back to Bagan

I made it back to pack in Mandalay and leave for an afternoon flight back to Bagan and the guest house I stayed at before, who were so happy to see me return that I got a free ride wanting at the airport. It was all beginning to be seamless unlike Mandalay. I felt it would all be a breeze, took a deep breath and I grabbed a bike to find my friend.

He was not at his friend’s bike stands, and so I rode to his house long the dirt road shortcut. I am pretty good with directions, guessing the road into his village, but off by one street. I know small villages, everyone knows each other and when I saw a young boy asked where his house was, and he lead me there. His mother was shocked to see me, ran to a neighbors house to get another boy to bike to get her son while I had tea she made. My friend arrived 40 minutes later and I said. “Guess what you asked about that I have?” He replied, “I forgot.” It was more a matter of things don't matter, but people do and he was just glad to see me again. I put an envelope in his hand and told him why I returned. With it, I bought 5 washable facemasks to wear while riding bikes in the dust to help save their lungs. It was great to see the ring on his brother’s hand, as he shared it with him because he wanted to wear it. That was something unheard of in USA. We made plans for the following day while mom cooked dinner again.
It was then that I decided to buy her a rice cooker, since they did have power and with 7 people it would make life easier. Early morning, we planned to meet at the village ordination ceremony called Shinbyu, where the boys are dressed as Buddha princes and shown off on horses. I found out this visit allowed me to see this once a year ceremony that happens after Full Moon festival. It has been happening yearly since the 11th century.



After that we planned we would bicycle to buy Mom’s rice cooker and take it by. And with the end of the day we planned to see his father’s ordination temple nearer my guest house. Continued...

1. This 5 part story starts with "Unexpected Kindness In Bagan" below

Times Running out in Mandalay

Amarapura U Bein Bridge

Mahamuni Buddha

Amarapura U Bein Bridge

Kyauktawgyi Buddha

Kuthodaw Paya Tripitakas

Amarapura Sunset

This 5 part story starts with "Unexpected Kindness In Bagan" below

The Surprise that Sparked it All

I awoke early and it became obvious what that the cause was. The time change did not register in my cell phone, because I had no SIM card in Myanmar. We took off at 8:30, and went to a gold leaf pounders shop first, and then it began to seem like a typical tourist trip. Everything from there on, took on an even greater feeling that this whole leg of the journey …that something was not right. Next stop, we went to see monastery morning alms round, and as soon as I saw tour buses, I walked in the opposite direction into a village and bought 40 drinking yoghurts to give them. I walked back and the taxi drivers near by helped me quickly unpack them. Instead of lining with other tourists to photograph them, I passed them out to the monks as they came from various buildings and lined up, avoiding all the shutterbugs at the opposite end. You can either live the life or photograph it but you can’t do both.

Moving on in the program, I felt like we had bought a tour so it all seemed lackluster. A hill of temples, boats ride, and horse cart but all at a local taxi’s price divided by 3. For a little excitement, I saw a government spy on the boat ride, dictating quietly in a hidden phone. Sure we saw bus tours and their guides paying 4 times what we did, but being lopped into the same tour it was getting old. At one site in Inwa, in an Asian leaning tower, Nanmyin I was asked by a vendor to change her dollars for Kyat and I quickly said yes, among three or four people. She pulled out the dollars out of her bag, and what was in it... but a new $2 bill. I just laughed, I get one now, after I leave Bagan. The mind just flew to Bagan. A few minutes later, in the horse cart, I was talking to the women about my experience in Bagan, since it was next on their route.

I told them about my friend there and asked them if would they take this $2 dollar bill to him saying he easy to find. I never got a real answer, but later went to ask again, at the end of our journey that day, and they just ignored me. On to Amarapura to see the U Bein's bridge, and they avoided me the entire time, which was just as well. I used this as yet another sign to get out of Mandalay, and I waited until they were done talking to the owner of the guest house, and told her of my plans to see if I can leave two days early, go to the airline office and change tickets to go back to Bagan. I thought I might as well make it a real surprise; I’ll give him the $2 bill in person since he thinks he won’t see me for another year. I managed to get the ticket changed free and buy one more leg, so damn easy that I had time to run around with a motorcycle taxi to see the temples I missed recommended by the Israeli earlier. While waiting early morning for the airline office to open we sat in a tea shop. It always amazed me how people would just crack a huge smile inviting them into their heart that I would see in the tea shop, and others coming by the pick-up some sweets to take. Continued...

This 5 part story starts with

"Unexpected Kindness In Bagan"

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