NaNoWriMo

Hey people!

Once again, I have been neglecting the blog this month because it is the time of the year where I attempt to write a novel in only 30 days. NaNoWriMo. The month is almost finished, and my book is coming along quite well, so I figured I'd share a bit of it with you!

In all its glory, here is the prologue:

September, 1990. La Khongkhed, Laos.

Thala turned her head to look behind her, the wind whipping her long black hair in front of her as she climbed. She knew nobody was following her, and that she probably wouldn’t be missed, but she couldn’t help but nervously glance back every five seconds anyway. She continued to climb the mountain, trying her best to keep her stomach from hitting the rocks. 

She was almost there. Just a few more steps and she would reach the top of the hill. Just a few more steps and she would see the tip of the temple start to appear. As she climbed, she saw what she was looking for. The bright gold of the temple roof sparkled amongst the lush green backdrop. If it had been made of anything else, it surely would have been invisible amongst the greenery. As it was, however, the temple was a startling sight. With a gold roof, multicoloured glass walls, and intricate patterns carved into the surface, the temple was modest in comparison to others, but held just the right amount of respect for the spiritual path of Buddhists.

Thala took one final step and heaved herself over the ledge, taking care to land on her side and protect her unborn child from harm. She stood up and took a moment to wipe the sweat from her forehead. The air was still cool, but very humid. It felt like a blanket, instantly enveloping her in moisture as soon as she tried to do anything. She was tired, but she had come all this way, she might as well try. With that thought in her mind, she walked towards the temple, took off her shoes and lined them up in front of the entrance, and walked through the only door.

The inside of the temple was small, but well-decorated. In keeping with the Theravada style of Buddhism, the walls were intricately carved and decorated with stories of Buddha’s birth, growth, death and reincarnation. There was incense ready and waiting to be lit, and a large statue of Buddha sitting in the middle of the room. His eyes were closed, his palms facing upwards. He was at peace. “It must be nice for him,” Thala thought to herself, looking around. She had heard of the temple on top of the hill, but she had never been up here before. As a practising Buddhist, it wasn’t that she wasn’t allowed, but that whenever she wanted to pray, she just went to the wat in town. It was easy and convenient for her, just a couple of blocks away from her family’s farm. This one was reserved for men, mostly. People who could leave the town for a full day, since that is how long it took to climb all the way up. She had started at dark, walked through sunrise, and climbed for a few more hours. Finally, she had arrived.

Thala took her time, looking around and exploring before starting what she came up there to do. When she had finished looking around, she went back to the front, lit a piece of incense, and placed in the holder. She knelt in front of the statue, closed her eyes and bowed her head. “Clear your mind,” she reminded herself. “Only then will you achieve enlightenment”. She thought of the colour white. She thought of silence and stillness. She tried to think of nothing. She had never been good at the prayer and mediation part of her religion. She swatted at a fly that was buzzing around her head. Maybe it was time to change strategies. Maybe it was time to focus her attention on one thing, rather than trying to think of nothing. 

She thought. Her thoughts drifted all the way to the very beginning.

Thala had grown up in the small town of La Khongkhed, in Laos. In fact, the temple on the hill was the furthest she’d ever been from her little town, other than small trips to nearby farms to pick up vegetables. The town was quiet, peaceful. She wasn’t well off by any stretch, but then again, no one there was. They were equals, poor but self-sufficient. She went to a small elementary school, where she sat on the floor and shared a single book with the rest of the class, but she got an education. When she turned ten, she started to work for her family, tending to the small garden they owned, cooking meals for her parents, brothers and sisters. By fourteen, her family had found her someone to marry, a boy of sixteen from a town nearby. His name was Khamtai, and he was everything she wanted in a husband. He was kind, strong, brave, and he had a good name in the community. He was only sixteen, but he was already working  on his father’s rice farm. It was a family business, and one that made a decent amount of money. 

She fell in love with him instantly. They spent time together, talking about their future. They went for walks and frequented local festivals together. Even though it wasn’t official, it was only a matter of time before he would ask her to marry him. She knew it. And she was right. Soon enough, the families were discussing the bride-price. They went back and forth, and back and forth with gifts and alcohol, until they finally decided on the price. Then, they set the wedding date. The town elders were consulted, and everything was prepared, until soon enough, the time came. The evening before, Thala got together with her family and close friends at her house. Her mother rushed around the house, preparing the marital bed as was custom. Her aunts and grandmother were also bustling about, preparing enough food for the entire ceremony, including the pha kouen, banana leaves with marigold, a wedding specialty. Thala sat in the corner, unable to help for fear of where her life was going from then on. She didn’t know what the future would bring, but she was excited to spend it with Khamtai. She knew he would be good to her. 

The next day, the wedding had begun. She awoke from her bed by her mother shaking her at an unreasonable hour. “We have to get ready,” she whispered excitedly. “Khamtai’s family will be here in just a few hours!”

Thala awoke and groggily let herself get washed. Afterwards, she got dressed up in a sinh, a traditional Lao skirt, and adorned herself with mountains of jewellery. Finally, she tied up her beautiful long black hair with the traditional ribbon on top of her head. All of a sudden, she heard a knock on the door. Her mother ran to answer it.

“Hello, my name is Khamtai Phouma, and I am here to offer you money, a cow, two goats and ten buckets of rice, so that I may live with your daughter.” Khamtai still looked like a boy dressed up as a man. His formal attire was a little too baggy, and his short black hair still looked like he hadn’t combed it down. His mother smiled, accepting his offer, and he left to join his groom’s group. They all came back shortly after, smiling and laughing with each other, playing musical instruments and singing. Thala waited and waited as Khamtai talked and drank with her parents, answered their questions and had his feet washed. It seemed like it was taking forever, and she thought she might die of anticipation. Just when she could no longer bear it, she was finally called into the room to sit next to her groom. After a short ceremony, attended by all their relatives, they were finally led off to their marital room. 

Thala remembered hearing her relatives long into the night, drunk on homemade alcohol and delirious with happiness, as she laid beside Khamtai for the first time, unsure of what to do or how to do it. She didn’t have to worry though, because he was slow and gentle. That was the night that her child was conceived.

Things started to settle after that. She built a life with Khamtai out of her parents’ house. She tended to the house, washing the vegetables and learning from her mother how to cook and be a good wife. With a baby on the way, she also started making preparations for birth. Eight months passed more quickly than she could have ever anticipated, and she found herself nervous and anxious about the addition of a new life to their family. She had enough for herself and her husband, but they couldn’t afford to travel all the way to the next city to visit a doctor. She had no idea whether her baby was healthy, but she had a feeling that with all the kicking it had been doing, it was bound to be alive and well. It would probably be feisty, too. That didn’t really come as a surprise, given how headstrong Thala’s parents always said she was. 

Thala was due any day now. She was getting more and more nervous with every day that passed, until yesterday, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She had to do something. That was when she decided to come up to this temple for the first time. She crawled into bed with Khamtai, feigning sleep long enough to hear his snores, then silently crept out of bed, dressed herself, and tiptoed to the kitchen. She threw a few things into a small cloth bag, and crept out of the house, taking care to walk silently until she was certain that nobody from home could hear her. She walked down the main road for miles, not stopping until she could no longer see any lights. She wasn’t worried. Even though she had never been to the temple before, she had walked this street enough that she knew where the turn-off was. It was then that she started to falter. She stumbled a bit on the turn, and decided to use the time to rest for a little bit. She pulled a candle and a match out of her bag, lit the candle, and waited, using the faint light to observe her new surroundings. She was surrounded by thick green plants and shrubbery, but she could barely make out the beginnings of a path that she knew was there.

She picked up her candle, and started to follow the path. She hiked and climbed for two more hours, until she saw the sun starting to rise. That was when she had found herself here, at the temple. She was still kneeling, head bowed, eyes closed. She finished reminiscing and began to pray.

“Please bless me and my unborn son or daughter. I don’t want much, just let us be well fed and have enough to get by. Please bring money and prosperity to our town, so that we can build a livelihood for our new family. Who knows how many children there will be after this one. Please allow my child to be healthy and grow up strong and safe. Please bless them. with opportunity to move up in this world and achieve things I never did. Please give them an education. Please give us love and happiness.” Thala wasn’t exactly sure how to end these things. While she’d been to the wat before, she had never made a prayer for herself. She finished by leaving a small donation in the box, 1,000 kip, and putting out the incense. She stood up and walked out, taking one last look at the giant golden Buddha before closing the door behind her. It was still early and she had plenty of time to make it back to the house before anyone was truly worried. After all, she was sure they were used to her outbursts and disappearances, just as she was sure they would shortly get used to her child’s.