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khao banda-it caves. the intermingling smell of guano and incense. strangely, not that bad.

Only an ignoramus like me would waltz into a Buddhist temple and demand to see caves. Buti na lang, when you’re a tourist, you are allowed mistakes. (Slaps self on forehead.) My apologies to the confused monks. Sayang they couldn't speak english. They could have said something apt but profound, like "What you are searching for is not here" or "Turn back to where you have come from" or "Do not ask where to find 'it', ask first what 'it' is" :-D All in stereotypical breathy-chinese-monk-accent of course. (Never mind that they aren't chinese! I want my cinematic illussions!)

But then, buti na lang din I walk into open doors of any sort. Because behind one door, i found some dubious-looking steps (a dog was lying there blocking the way pa) that led to a cave with golden Buddhas lining the walls. Shafts of afternoon sun slipped through a hole in the ceiling, laying timid fingers on one particular golden statue. And while i took a picture, a monkey straddled the hole's chicken wire cover, casting his shadow on my shot.

I wish they'd left the cave alone. Let it be lit by sunlight rather than flourescent. Let the packed earth lead you to the hidden niches instead of cement. Let the smell of ancient earth and guano and incense be your only companions in the dark. But anyway, despite these attempts, if you let your mind reach back to where this must have began - a line of monks in flaming orange, their robes lit by torches as they watch their steps, descending into their cave sanctuaries - if you imagine it all without the chicken wire and the flourescent and the cement, as it was, the first time someone had been enough of an ignoramus to step into a cave and find a golden buddha illumined by a shaft of sunlight, imagine it then and there is magic.

(oh, and the monkeys were cute too!)