DENGFENG — 1 November 2012 — When I was looking on the Internet for lodging near Shaolin Temple, I wanted to stay as close to the grounds as possible. The temple (a k a Shaolin Monastery) looked remote and I wanted to avoid having to travel back and forth from my hotel. But I had no idea that my choice was actually in a small village above the monastery, or that Kung Fu students would be practicing right outside my window: 
Or that I’d be eating in the same convenience store as the monks:
He was watching TV and keeping an eye on the kitchen.
While these creepy dudes were keeping an eye on me:
I had my first bowl of Henan meintou, finally!
It was SOOOO delicious and HOT!!! It had Chinese greens, pickled cabbage and two types of handmade mein — round noodles and flat ones. Yummmmm!!!
Before I knew it, I had eaten the whole thing, every last drop:
It was a good thing I filled my belly with such a big bowl of hot meintou because after that I went outside and watched the Kung Fu students training in the cold mountain night:
It sure made me wish I could do Kung Fu too!
Worse, this morning as I walked downhill from the village toward the monastery …
I saw Kung Fu everywhere …
Even the garbage receptacles had a Kung Fu-ness about them:
And the streets were paved with Zen:
You could do Kung Fu anywhere!
Especially inside Shaolin Temple:
Where the guardians are formidable Kung Fu warriors:
and all the monks are fierce warriors too
but look more like Zen masters,
guarding the altars
or dispensing medication.
There were a million tourists:
and worshippers:
And people seeking healing:
Everywhere it smelled like flowers
and prayers
and gratitude on fire …
Even if you knew nothing of the history of Shaolin Monastery — such as that it’s been around for nearly 2,000 years, or that it’s the birthplace of Kung Fu and Zen Buddhism, or that it’s been burned to the ground a sqillion times by emperors, bandits and warlords, and rebuilt a sqillion times — there’s still something about walking on its stones and leaning close to its fires that’s transporting — like you’ve stepped through a time machine
into another place.
I can’t explain it.
I lingered.
And didn’t want to leave. 
I wished that I could sit like one of the Buddhas and bless the tourists all day.
Or do Kung Fu all over the place.
Or in place.
But I couldn’t.
When you’re an author, there are always more things to see.
So I left.
And walked over to the Pagoda Forest. 
It’s the largest one in China.
It was very quiet.
According to a guidebook I bought at the monastery, pagoda means the grave in Sanskrit.
They hold the bones of Buddhist monks. 
Creepy!
No wonder it was dead silent.
After that, I couldn’t hold my iphone straight to take a picture!
a globby bloogie by lenore look 