I wake up early. I'd like to take a stroll around the grounds of the hotel before breakfast, soaking in every bit of this place before heading back to Ho Chi Minh and to grab some pictures with my iphone. A dog resembling that of a Basenji greets me at the door of my room. He is medium in size with a camel-colored coat, dark-brown muzzle and very sensitive, almond-shaped eyes. The regal creature stands before me ready to walk the landscape. As I head out the door, he follows me as I go, always several paces behind. Every time I turn around, he stops and turns in the other direction walking away, but when I continue moving forward, he again is on my tail watching over me at a slight distance, not wanting me to notice. In the glow of the sunrise we walk up to the statue of Maya, Buddha's mother.
*The woman who gave birth to Buddha Shakyamuni is called in the scriptures, Mahamaya, meaning Great Maya, or Mayadevi, the Goddess Maya. In English, she is generally called Queen Maya, a designation that obscures more than it reveals. Maya is actually the Sanskrit term for Illusion in the sense of an interplay of Substance and Energy that contributes to our believing that there is something "there.” When our bodily organs of perception interact with the interplay, we usually call the product of the interaction, Reality. So Mahamaya actually means The Grandest Deception or Illusion of all -- that which convinces us of Existence.
Maya stands tall in the center of the grounds. There are flowers, bowls of water, and incense placed at her feet. Every day since arriving at this place, I’ve seen an elderly couple walking through the gardens. The woman, with long, flowing, grey hair elegantly statuesque, and her husband, of equal proportion, shuffle along the tree-lined paths hand in hand. Eventually, they always make their way to Maya, lighting incense at her feet and bowing their heads in prayer. Now I am standing at the base of Maya, and like the couple before me, I, too, find myself bowing my head praying for Thao and all of the children that I have met on this trip. I ask for strength and the courage to see the library through. I talk to my sister who inspired this journey, and I thank anyone, who might be listening, for this life I was given.
After breakfast, the team and I head over to Thao's. Her family has dressed for the occasion. We go one at a time, having everyone's picture taken with Thao. Then, we situate the family for their portrait, Grandpa propped up against the frame of the house. Stephen puts the camera on a timer, and we all take a picture together. The grandfather, who this whole time has been silent, uses all of his energy to pick up a crutch and attempt to swipe it at Stephen mumbling something. The family rushes to lower the crutch and nervously laughs. I ask what is going on, and they tell me he is convinced that Stephen is trespassing. The grandfather is 100 years old and has managed to hold onto the property that we are standing on for his entire life. Within that time many foreigners have tried to occupy this land, and he has always returned reclaiming what was temporarily taken from him. Even at 100 years old and practically immobile, he fights. After grandpa has settled down, we try the photo again, and it's a success. Loc arrives and thanks us for coming to the village. He presents us all with pens. The guys receive purple pens, and I receive a rollerball pen. Vanessa tells us that this is quite an honor, and that pens are expensive and very special. We all head back to the hotel where a mini-van is waiting to take us back to Ho Chi Minh City. Be Hai wheels Thao along the road and over the rocky pavement. We load up our things, and it is time to say goodbye. Thao starts to tell me something in Vietnamese as tears well up in her eyes. I bow down so I am directly facing her. She looks at me and says in perfect English, "I love you forever". I tell her I am going to do everything I possibly can to see her library through. It is time to go.
*http://www.khandro.net/Bud_mother.htm
