The monks arrived clad in their saffron robes, walking single file with their alms bowls, on straps in front of them, and umbrellas over their heads. As they passed, eldest first, the laity, some standing – some kneeling, placed offerings of sticky rice, incense and flowers into the monk’s bowls. It all happened almost without sound. Only the rain and the monk’s bare feet padding on the pavement were could be heard. Even the dogs and the roosters seemed to keep a respectful silence as the procession passed. It was a beautiful thing to see and I consider myself to be quite lucky.