We finally arrived at Puerto Escondido after an endless twelve hours bus trip. We could feel the fresh oceanic air again and we saw a little cove, bordered with verdurous rocks, where turquoise water was peacefully lounging.
In one of my classes, we were taught about Buddhist sand mandalas. Monks would spend weeks creating beautiful murals out of sand, only to wipe them away upon completion. Apparently, this is done to illustrate the notion of impermanence. Nothing is permanent but that does not erase the beauty of what once existed.
The sun is beating down in Oaxaca. In this American-like crisscrossed city, each building has a specific color, there is not a single black or grey or white property. Streets are like rainbows, a place where rain and sun mix up to bring out the most beautiful. These concrete rainbows are just as ephemeral since frequent earthquakes destroy the city’s life. However, buildings have always surfaced stronger and prettier, like a tiny three-leaf plant growing through ruins.
My idea of fun involves action heavy weekends, so the thought of spending my Saturday twiddling my thumbs and contemplating my every mistake at a Buddhist Temple seemed a little daunting. However, once I arrived at the temple, my previous worries melted away, and I readied myself to fully embrace the experience…