From West to East

The waves rocked the boat. The waves, the moon and the sun; the clouds and the rain drops. They all seemed to guide the small boat as Jack and Pinkpot sat yet again on the deck. Michael was fast asleep in his small cabin. Pinkpot held Jack's hand tight. They had not spoken a word during the trip. They both felt slightly apprehensive about this new adventure yet were very calm. Jack had never before felt this type of connection with anyone in his life, not even Germain or Elisabet. What him and Pinkpot had was something different, something special. Neither one needed to explain anything, the other one could just fully understand what the the other meant. As if they had the same thoughts and ideas all the time.

The boat rocked and the destiny of Jack and Pinkpot was getting closer. One night, Jack woke up startled and could feel the new start coming from around corner. He sat up and looked into the horizon. He could see land in the far distance. The land was getting closer and closer, getting bigger and bigger.

'Pinkpot', Jack shook his friend's shoulder. 'I can see the land! We are getting there!'

Pinkpot opened her eyes and rubbed them. They stood by the railing looking into the distance. 'There is our new homeland then', Michael said as he walked over to them. 'We will need to take a bus from the harbour. The orphanage is a long, long way from the sea. It is up on the Himalaya mountains. Oh so beautiful! You will love this place!' Michael jumped around and started singing an Indian song.

Once in the harbour, Jack got a very different feeling of the place than what he had felt in Africa. People were dressed in traditional Asian clothes, with women covering their heads with brightly coloured scarfs. Sparkly bangles were hanging in their arms. There were riksaws circling around. Jack could see cows standing in the middle of the chaotic traffic that consisted of bikes, very old cars and motorbikes. There were temples every where. Whichever direction you looked, you could spot at least three within a square mile. Some of them had pictures of their gurus on them, some had the picture of the Buddha. Sensual music flooded out of each one of them.

'Different kind of feeling to this place', Pinkpot said as they ascended the boat and walked over to a bus.

'How come there are so many cows on the streets?' Jack asked Michael.

Michael laughed. 'Hindus believe that the cow is a Holy animal. They don't kill any of them and let them roam around. They even worship the cows! Now, you need to get used to just having purely vegetarian food here, as Hindus and Buddhist are vegetarian. These are the two major religions here. You can see temples for both everywhere. The one's with the flowers and pictures of gurus are the Hindu ones, the ones with pictures of the Buddha are the Buddhist ones.'

'Do people go to the temple every day?' Pinkpot asked.

'Yes, they do', Michael explained. 'They go for prayers in the morning, some go in the evening as well. They say prayers for the day and get a tikka, a red spot on their third eye, to be protected the whole day and to feel connected to their spirit throughout the day.'

'Oh, interesting', Jack nodded. 'So the religion here is very different to Christianity in Africa, it seems.'

'Yes, that's right', Michael started explaining further. 'Hindus believe that there are many different Gods, each for a different entity. Such as a God for the sun or God for the rain. They pray for the specific God when they want something. Like they would pray for the God of prosperity when they want more money and for things to move on with life. Buddhist turn to the Buddha. They see Buddha as the example of a being who was able to see things how they really are and attained enlightenment. They go to the temple to offer their gratitude and thanks to the Buddha and to learn from the sanga who are a spiritual entity dedicating their life to serving the Buddhist community.'

'Seems like we are going to be learning a lot during out stay here', Pinkpot laughed, as they started to walk towards a colourfu, old bus.