Geistergrab einer buddhistischen Pagode

Kapitel 43

For impoverished families, this was the only way their sons could receive an education. Wealthier families took their children home after two weeks, but the poorer children stayed as long as possible. The children studied Pali in the temple, with older children supervising their memorization. The older children were selected to remain in the temple as ordained monks; they grew increasingly cultured and devout, honing their piety amidst poverty. But to me, this piety did not extinguish the young monks' mischievousness.

But Wendy knew nothing about the young monks' situation; she hadn't read the materials on my reading list.

"It's unbelievable that these poor children have to become monks."

"Look at these smiling faces,"

"Wyatt said. He showed her the photos on his digital camera, and the kids crowded around to look, pointing at their own pictures and laughing."

Wendy couldn't smile at all. Wyatt didn't answer her question. Did he no longer love her? Lately, she felt something was off about him. She thought it might be because her enthusiasm, clinginess, and capriciousness had made him hesitant.

She'd left her sunscreen in the car, and the freckles on her arms were turning red. The sun was strong, and she worried that when she returned to the car in half an hour, the freckles on her face would be even bigger. What would Wyatt think when her face turned a juicy pink and her nose peeled like a garlic clove? He, on the other hand, didn't have that problem; his skin, tanned a beautiful brown from years of outdoor activity, was perfect. Good heavens, why did he look so charming? She wanted to devour him right then and there.

Just then, Wendy saw the woman in the hat. She recognized Wendy too. She carefully gestured for Wendy to come over.

Wendy looked around, tugged at Wyatt's sleeve, and whispered, "Look, that's what that woman wants to tell me."

“She wants to exchange money,” Wyatt said.

"What?"

“Cash exchange, see? She wants to exchange money.” Wyatt turned to the woman. “How much?”

"What are you doing?" Wendy exclaimed. "You're going to be arrested!"

"I was just curious."

Just then, two policemen passed by, watching them warily.

“That,” Wendy said, pointing to the woman’s conical hat, “how much is this hat?”

She randomly pulled out a banknote; it was a hundred yuan.

The woman took the money, took off her hat, and handed it to Wendy. The police finally left.

“They’re gone,” Wyatt said. “You can give her the hat back now.”

"I need a hat. I got sunburned, how much did I pay? Was it too much?"

“I paid twenty-five cents,” Wyatt said, shaking his head. “It felt like theft.”

Rescuing Drowning Fish (3)

Wendy pulled the hat over her head—an unexpected bonus that saved them from being arrested by the police. For just twenty-five cents, she'd gotten such a stylish hat, both attractive and chic, like something out of a 1950s Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly movie. Meanwhile, the locals snickered; a foreigner wearing a farmer's work hat was like dressing a fish—how foolish!

Around the corner of a small alley, Murphy and Rupert found a shop selling basketballs and badminton shuttlecocks. They each bought one and started tossing them around as soon as they got them. The shopkeeper and other customers watched them and laughed.

"Mike Jordan!"