Sue and I left Manila on a Saturday morning. We left behind a devastating typhoon and another one on the way. Our big Thai plane took us out on our way to Bangkok where we would stay over night. This would be the first of six flights we would take before returning home. The next morning we were off to Kathmandu, the capital of Nepal for another over night. The next morning our third flight took us into the interior of Nepal to the town of Bharatpur for a National Convention of Word for the World.
Our home for the next three nights would be an experience. Our room had a TV. It didn't work. A phone. No, it didn't work. When they said wifi in the room. We took another look around us and doubted. It didn't work. He didn't say it did. Cold shower. Sue hates them. A place to sleep. What else do you need?
The gardens are beautiful with a huge variety of trees, flowering shrubs, beautiful large butterflies flipping through the flowers and singing birds with strange but beautiful songs. The place we are staying is man made. The garden is God's. What a difference.
We just came from a tour of the town via a hired taxi. Sue likes to take photos. With her two cameras and my one on my cell phone off we went. Stopping here and there taking photos we circle the town. Beautifully dressed ladies in the bright colors of the rainbow with long, black flowing hair down their backs. Children with coal black eyes sparkling back at you. Rickshaws drifting in and out of traffic. Water buffaloes lazily carrying burdens with a certain contagious contentment. Horns blaring as they do in Asia. Sidewalks filled with fruit vendors. Did I say there are no sidewalks? Sue has the driver stop for another photo. Did I tell you she likes to take photos? She has hundreds of them stored. Everywhere. While she adjusts her camera our dilapidated taxi is rear ended. By a motorcycle. Normally you would not feel this. In an ordinary car. As the Chinese would say, "Anyone can build a car." Someone tried on this one. I was grateful when our driver and the motorcyclist exchanged pleasantries and we were on our way. I was already imagining our being at the police station trying to explain, "My wife likes to take photos." We are foreigners you know. Finally we are back at our "resort." Sometimes it doesn't take much to make a place a resort.
It is dark and the lights are still on. We have our candles near by. A must in most of Asia's out of the way places. I made an ocular inspection of the generator. I felt on familiar grounds. It was very much like the one I fought with for three years in the Gilbert Islands.
I'll close for now. It is dinner time. Dinner time in these small Asian villages can be a pleasant evening time. The lights are subdued. Oriental music. Helpful waiters with giant size smiles and stumbling through what little English they know. Drinks are refreshing and made of fruit we have never heard of. The smells are always laced with garlic, ginger, peppers and other spices. Oh, by the way, when you pray for your food, really pray.
The lights just went out.
Our home for the next three nights would be an experience. Our room had a TV. It didn't work. A phone. No, it didn't work. When they said wifi in the room. We took another look around us and doubted. It didn't work. He didn't say it did. Cold shower. Sue hates them. A place to sleep. What else do you need?
The gardens are beautiful with a huge variety of trees, flowering shrubs, beautiful large butterflies flipping through the flowers and singing birds with strange but beautiful songs. The place we are staying is man made. The garden is God's. What a difference.
We just came from a tour of the town via a hired taxi. Sue likes to take photos. With her two cameras and my one on my cell phone off we went. Stopping here and there taking photos we circle the town. Beautifully dressed ladies in the bright colors of the rainbow with long, black flowing hair down their backs. Children with coal black eyes sparkling back at you. Rickshaws drifting in and out of traffic. Water buffaloes lazily carrying burdens with a certain contagious contentment. Horns blaring as they do in Asia. Sidewalks filled with fruit vendors. Did I say there are no sidewalks? Sue has the driver stop for another photo. Did I tell you she likes to take photos? She has hundreds of them stored. Everywhere. While she adjusts her camera our dilapidated taxi is rear ended. By a motorcycle. Normally you would not feel this. In an ordinary car. As the Chinese would say, "Anyone can build a car." Someone tried on this one. I was grateful when our driver and the motorcyclist exchanged pleasantries and we were on our way. I was already imagining our being at the police station trying to explain, "My wife likes to take photos." We are foreigners you know. Finally we are back at our "resort." Sometimes it doesn't take much to make a place a resort.
It is dark and the lights are still on. We have our candles near by. A must in most of Asia's out of the way places. I made an ocular inspection of the generator. I felt on familiar grounds. It was very much like the one I fought with for three years in the Gilbert Islands.
I'll close for now. It is dinner time. Dinner time in these small Asian villages can be a pleasant evening time. The lights are subdued. Oriental music. Helpful waiters with giant size smiles and stumbling through what little English they know. Drinks are refreshing and made of fruit we have never heard of. The smells are always laced with garlic, ginger, peppers and other spices. Oh, by the way, when you pray for your food, really pray.
The lights just went out.
Lol, I love what you said on the last paragraph "Oh, by the way, when you pray for your food, really pray."
ReplyDeleteI guess Pastor, women love to take photos, I do love taking pictures also.
It would be great if you post some of the pictures that Sis. Sue took:)
BTW, i enjoyed reading your post. Regards to Sis. Sue.
Blessings!
Jhunnelle