Window open, birds fly, morning checks in

I shared the view from my window before here but I think one of the many joys to the current living arrangement is the morning on the third floor with the window open and birds sing some kind of song I cannot hear with the window closed. Siem Reap is quiet where I live in the mornings. No roosters. No dogs barking to a morning song. Good time for a coffee and a consideration of the morning.

I told this friend of mine Paul in Vietnam that Siem Reap feels like home to me. For the longest time I had no home. The places were a refrain of long or short stays until Hanoi Vietnam. Hanoi was always the superset of homes. It was like home+. So much to do on any given morning even if I weakened and only took West Lake and a very close cafe for a Banh Mi and a wonderful Vietnamese coffee. Hanoi always felt welcoming and warm with layers of life built up around the old parts of town and the neighborhoods I’d walk in. People that would smile and nod and tell me hello. Street food stalls that sometimes I would partake in. Friends that would invite me for beer and time. There was also time to not have any of that. There was the personal investigation of life.

Here I have a different vibe of home. Siem Reap is not large and in charge like Hanoi. It is small and personal and my walks become little tools to see different expressions of the same things. I love the coffee and food explorations here too. I just live the same life in this home as the life in Vietnam but I feel the expression of it is so different. Siem Reap is small yet vibrant and small coffee stands and beer joints await with abandon along the river. I feel with home here I have moments to explore, to lose, to find.

The red wristband of life

About 5 years ago in Da Nang Vietnam, a deaf girl gave me a red wristband with a small buddha on it. I wore that wrist band forever. It never came off until a few days before I left Mexico. Then one morning in Merida with some dread I noticed it had finally come apart. What did it mean? I wondered at the timing. I happened to read the importance of red and wrist bracelets here so I visited a buddhist temple and had a monk give me a new one that will never come off until the time comes. When it absorbs bad luck or feelings. I like that vibe. If the first one finally deserted after 5 years, I feel pretty good about being in the grasp of any bad luck.

Now I have a new red wristband. The color is important across many belief systems. This one stays on now and I thanked the monk that wished me good luck and happiness at the Wat. I felt complete almost immediately and realized it was the new red wristband of life. That I needed that element of life and I found it here in Siem Reap at a beautiful temple with a kind monk.

Back to morning coffee times

Some bird is singing out my window. Perhaps they duel in song. Test each other. Find the small pools of water from our instant of rain yesterday.

Joni Mitchell goes on now singing about A Case of You. Her voice has always thrilled me, distilled me, left me sad and happy. But I have my morning coffee and the morning has checked in.

Yep Paul, this is home now. Vietnam is a dream. But just a place now. Not a place called home. I realized that perhaps arranging the flights and a short hotel stay in Saigon. It is not going to home. I am already there for awhile. I already made arrangements for two more months here when I get back from the month. This place satisfies and satiates me at many levels. It gives me a wonderful host and everything I could need from food and beer to sometimes people around me.

Thanks for checking in on me Friday morning. I like you but I would rather not know what day it is.