Went on an expedition about thirty minutes away from campus to a Catholic shrine and a Buddhist temple. One of my classmates drove me along with two others. It was a one-door hot rod (not literally but it was actually a pretty nice model. Tell me that it was used in one of the Fast movies and I'd believe it.) Because it was a one-door car, I had to get in the back seat which reminded me of my childhood when I went on the back of my friend's Porsche. While hearing the engine roaring, there was limited window view and the space was tight. She blasted out rap and rave songs while opening both windows. As far as car handling, there were some jerky moments. They got me worried for a few seconds but we made it safely.
The shrine was located in the foothills of nowhere. Gold, orange, and yellow leaves, and the fresh hills and plains colored the scenery. It was just like a scene from the Sound of Music. A beautiful landscape. Easily the spot for a romantic get-away. Fall never appeared so colorful and pleasing. It was surely the greater beauties of the season.
"Now I'm not the best tour guide," the professor said. It was his first time here as well.
We roamed around the shrine. It was in need of major construction. Reportedly they had faced a financial crisis that could possibly close the doors. Nobody else but a senior couple was there. A Father came up to us eventually and toured the class. The shrine was considered to be one of the most "Holy sites in the world."
Our next stop was the Buddhist temple. It seemed like a village at first. Getting there was a hassle, even though it was adjacent from the shrine. There was a huge wall that barricaded the area so we had to go around, through the woods. The place was muddy so all of our shoes got dirty. We discovered that the Catholic shrine and the temple were not in good relations with each other. One of the Fathers had invaded the temple property and destroyed their 100-year-old road with a tractor backhoe two months ago. There was racial discrimination. The church Fathers had put up road signs writing "No Dogs," a reference other than the animal itself. They had blocked mail delivery, roads, and completely isolated the Buddhist monks. Some even started to suffer from psychological health problems. As of now they were working on receiving humanitarian aid and instilling peaceful negotiations. This act merely ruined the reputation of Catholicism.
This proved that there was still racism in America, and it still loomed in society somewhere. Hatred.
I happened to chat with a few Buddhist monks, one of which was a 29-year-old documentary filmmaker. He was wearing a hoodie and sweat pants. Slung on his shoulder was a professional video camera.
"How old do I look?" he asked.
I took a guess and went for 22.
He laughed and told me his real age. "I look young because I engage in meditation."
"Meditation?"
"Yes," he said. "Meditation allows you to see the world differently. You'll begin to realize things you haven't realized before. So I encourage you to meditate."
In retrospect, that actually did make sense. Every time I meditated before taekwondo, I felt more alive, erasing all my current thoughts and entering in a state that was both blank and empty.
He was a fan of Japan. He visited all-around, more than I have.
It was odd taking out my phone in a place that seemed completely isolated from reality. If it weren't for the cars and the phones, I felt like I entered a veil transporting me back in time to a primitive setting.
All of the people who were at the temple asked me if I was Chinese. And, awkwardly, I'd correct them. But along with another student who was an international student from China, I engaged in a decent conversation with all of the Buddhist monks. The rest of the class already were walking back to their cars. Eventually the professor ran back as well, and so it was only me and her after we left the temple. In a beautiful scenery. I felt like an actor in a movie. Maybe a story about two college students going on an adventure and randomly stumbling upon landscapes after landscapes.
She was a regular, prompt, low-key student. We were walking back to the car. She was one of the students that was in the same car as me.
"Do you think we have to write an article about this?" she asked.
"Well let's hope not," I said, avoiding tree branches.
She asked me if I knew a certain girl.
"I know her," I said. "She's in my other writing class."
"She talks about you a lot," she said. "How you were such a great writer."
Odd, I thought. I didn't recall ever showing her any of my works. But hey, thanks.
"This is such a beautiful place," she said.
"Can't agree with you more. Amazing how it's just a few miles away from campus. It's like time traveling to another realm. A beautiful, realm that is."
We eventually made it through the woods and back to the car. The professor came up to us.
"We were afraid that you joined the Buddhist monks," he laughed.
Perhaps everyone misunderstood us. A boy and a girl. Alone. In a beautiful scenery.
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