So first off, let us just say. We are not usually this culturally insensitive and we have really grown to love many of the Buddhist transitions.
The first temple we 
went to called the Lucky Buddha, was great. We were uncertain of what to do. We were clearly tourist, we are not Buddhist, and we really just came for the experience not to particularly workshop at the temple. The monk at the desk who allowed us to come in was indifferent, he sees dozen of tourist a day. He told us we could take pictures. So awkwardly I begin to take a few pictures of this beautiful golden Buddha (Ben took video). As I was taking pictures, I bump into something behind me and quickly turn around. I see two monks sitting quietly on a table appearing to be meditating. I was so embarrassed and apologized profusely before I realize they were wax statutes. (Giggle). We named then Bob and Aung San.
Next, we partake in a massive bike ride around the countryside 
of Mae Sot. We head out on a Sunday and appear to have hit the time and day when all monks take baths. There are about 10 dogs guarding all the temples and Buddhas. They growl and bark as we approach. A monk has to come out and 
quiet them down so we can continue to pass. Very inconvenient for the monks, especially during bathing time, but they always are nice. I kept wondering why they always looked and talked with Ben and not me, but I had gotten use to the gender thing after a temple or two.
We had gone about 30 km with another 30 to go, when we arrived at the farthest temple on our destination. We pulled up exhausted, sweaty, almost out of water, stinky, and bright red. The old monk warmly greeted us. He offered us water bottles. We were so grateful especially since we did not think we would be able to find any water on the way home through the country. Ben shook his hand and I, in my thankfulness, forgot the major taboos of Buddhist monk culture. I reached for the monks hand. The monk quickly moved his hand behind his back and turned his shoulder away from me. Opps. No touching 
monks Steff. So we explored the compound a bit and we get this bright idea to give the monks our bananas in my backpack as a thank you gift. I pull out the brown warm bananas and Ben tries to hand then to the same monk. He drops both his hands behind his back and shakes his head no. Ben tries again. We were not sure why he said no. We guessed maybe he could not accept fruit from others, or maybe he just did not like old warm brown bananas J We found out later that probably he could not accept them directly from our hands and we were supposed to set them down first. After Ben’s second try of offering the bananas the monk thought maybe we were asking for fresh bananas and tried to give us new ones.
The next weekend we biked back out to the Buddha’s footprint (the place where Buddha is 
said to have stepped and left a mark) and made the long hike up into the mountain to see this site and get a good view of the countryside. After a long climb, we got to a cave and found a lone monk sitting outside in his living room (a wooden platform structure) hanging out meditating. He gestured us into his cave across from his living room platform to see the Buddha. Soon after entering, we noticed a smaller cave opening behind the gold Buddha statue. The area to get down to it was full of crumbling rock and did not look well used. When we saw a fire glowing in the back I thought, hey this must be the Buddha’s footprint. I started to crawl down into the small opening at the back of the cave. I glanced back out at the monk. He was shaking his head at me trying to politely urge me not to go inside the opening. We went back outside and he told us that is his bedroom. Oops, I tried to climb into a monk’s bed. Chalk that up for one more faux paw.
I was worried I was going around Mae Sot corrupting the monks, but then we found out the sometimes they show up at the clinic with STDs and we see them smoking all the time, so I’m not too worried. I’d like to say this part of the blog would be done, but I think we’ll have a few more stories to add. We’ve had quite a few funny cultural blunders with the volunteers from all over the world as well. Let’s just say pantomime and flash do not mean the same thing everywhere. We also discovered there are a hundred different names to call a male Speedo. My favorite is Ruth’s from Australia, Budgie Smugglers, named after Australian birds…
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