Philip
Philip (20-something) / East Germany
Biking through Germany, Bosnia, Kosovo, Oman, UAE and Iran.
Hitchhiking in Iran, the easiest, poorest, most friendly. Oman and UAE? Not so much.
But having to leave Iran rather suddenly (the protests and killings - when every Westerner became a suspected spy), he had to leave his trusty bike behind, too. But he met a Dutch fellow who took the bike to the middle-east (where safe to do so). He’d bring it back to Europe with him, and they’d figure out a time and place to meet up.
The road is full of these tales of sweet serendipities; a confirmation of when you let go into the unknown, support and magic begin to happen. Or so I’ve come to know.
I met Philip while awaiting the yellow truck to take us back to Pai. The monastery abbot had a ritual of personally saying goodbye. He'd tell stories about his encounters with a King Cobra and a Tiger (that we’d heard several times before).
Such a jolly happy soul! Except he didn’t see us as having souls, per se; rather a “light body,” same shape as our physical body, that animates us, then lifts and separates at the time of physical death. He told several miracle-like stories, of auras and animals and supernatural powers. One to accept these accounts and encounters as true, plus the current of magical realism that runs through life here. I don’t have words to explain it further.
He also likes to tell, with great glee and chuckle, of the folly of his youth, when he smoked and drank and had a girlfriend. Then he became a monk and wandered throughout Thailand, India and Nepal for twenty (20) years, before coming to Wat Pa Tam Wua thirty (30) years ago.
Anyways, I happened to get a photo of Philip receiving a Buddha necklace from the abbot. I shared it with him, then we ended up on the back bumper together (prior
Biking through Germany, Bosnia, Kosovo, Oman, UAE and Iran.
Hitchhiking in Iran, the easiest, poorest, most friendly. Oman and UAE? Not so much.
But having to leave Iran rather suddenly (the protests and killings - when every Westerner became a suspected spy), he had to leave his trusty bike behind, too. But he met a Dutch fellow who took the bike to the middle-east (where safe to do so). He’d bring it back to Europe with him, and they’d figure out a time and place to meet up.
The road is full of these tales of sweet serendipities; a confirmation of when you let go into the unknown, support and magic begin to happen. Or so I’ve come to know.
I met Philip while awaiting the yellow truck to take us back to Pai. The monastery abbot had a ritual of personally saying goodbye. He'd tell stories about his encounters with a King Cobra and a Tiger (that we’d heard several times before).
Such a jolly happy soul! Except he didn’t see us as having souls, per se; rather a “light body,” same shape as our physical body, that animates us, then lifts and separates at the time of physical death. He told several miracle-like stories, of auras and animals and supernatural powers. One to accept these accounts and encounters as true, plus the current of magical realism that runs through life here. I don’t have words to explain it further.
He also likes to tell, with great glee and chuckle, of the folly of his youth, when he smoked and drank and had a girlfriend. Then he became a monk and wandered throughout Thailand, India and Nepal for twenty (20) years, before coming to Wat Pa Tam Wua thirty (30) years ago.
Anyways, I happened to get a photo of Philip receiving a Buddha necklace from the abbot. I shared it with him, then we ended up on the back bumper together (prior
