There seems to be a bit of a theme occurring. Not content with spending just one weekend with a guy in an orange robe, I find myself yet again doing the same, only this time instead of a yogi I am spending the weekend with my own personal lama (monk).
Technically I gatecrashed his weekend to Lumbini, the birthplace of Lord Buddha but you can't blame a girl for wanting to visit this World Heritage site that is one of the most spiritual places in the World.
So after an eight hour bus ride (yes, I can't seem to get enough of them), we arrived and checked into a local guest house. Unsure if I should share a room with the monk that I teach English to I was surprised when he led us to a twin room.
Then it was off sightseeing on a rickshaw ride along the canal before we retired to bed in a mosquito infested room, the monk sleeping in his robe and me in the most covered up clothes I could possibly find.
As morning broke we visited the birthplace of Lord Buddha, the monk choosing to meditate on top of the ruins much to the guard's horror. Then in blistering heat we visited each temple from all over the world; Korea, Cambodia, Switzerland, Tibet, Thailand and many more, sitting cross legged in each one until we were well and truly templed out.
With each person we met I was introduced as his ‘English teacher,' and we conversed in the English that I had taught; the monk practising each phrase and word. We even played noughts and crosses on the bus and shared a coke! Then with hours to kill, we watched the Karate Kid movie in a Nepalese restaurant before getting the nightbus back home to Pharpin.
It was the most humble experience I have ever had.