A different type of travel

When reflecting upon a time, a memory from 25 years ago, which caused anxiety you let the common sense of age push some details aside or do you? I am going to let this event travel and write it as it comes.
Roy and I had volunteered to spend two weeks in Cambodia. We had some books: Advanced Learner Dictionaries and teacher support material that a kind friend had sponsored. These were for the teachers we would meet.
The countryside, rivers, temples and the people soon made us realise how very foreign we were. Then this happened.
We were guests at the home of one of the teachers, and it was getting close to the time I needed to get to class. A bodda-bodda was summoned. They were easy to spot, a young man and a motorbike.
I got on the back of the bike and an address was given by the teacher. All was fine until the road was no longer a road but brown stubble grass and hard earth with no track. In the distance, I saw what looked like a hotel alone with nothing much around it. My instincts told me something was not right as we got close to the building I brought both hands down on the driver’s shoulders and said ‘Stop’, jumped off and gave him $1.00, walked to the hotel and immediately felt OK. I asked for another motorbike taxi with a driver. I explained ‘city’ and ‘tar road’. There was only one leading in from that direction at that time. It was fine for a while then the motorbike engine coughed and it stopped. No petrol.
We walked but then unexpectedly under an umbrella on a table were glass bottles with a liquid. It was petrol. I bought two and soon we were on our way.
Yes, we saw the tar road then a school I recognised. I stopped paid and thanked the driver and walked the rest of the way. The strange thing was, I taught the lesson and afterwards met Roy and others looking for me. They were quite frantic because they couldn’t remember if I was wearing red, blue or green. I had three loose-fitting outfits, trousers and tops to match that I had bought at the local market, cotton comfortable and cool.
I think what carried me was my determination not to miss class.
Anxiety may come either through knowledge or lack of knowledge.
I was grateful that I seemed to have neither, just instinct.

What is instinct?

Here is what Socrates says:

‘ I decided that it was not wisdom that enabled poets to write their poetry, but a kind of instinct or inspiration, such as you find in seers and prophets who deliver all their sublime messages without knowing in the least what they mean.’

I then looked for some interesting Bible sayings from those who spoke prophetically: David about Divine protection, Solomon about obedience and Ezekiel about watchfulness.

Here is what they said in this order:

God speaking through David:

‘ I will both lie down in peace and sleep: for You LORD only make me live in safety.’

God speaking prophetically through Solomon:

‘ But whoever listens to Me, God, will live in safety, and will be quiet from the fear of evil.’

God speaking through the prophet Ezekiel:

‘ But if the watchman see the sword come, and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned; if the sword come, and take any person from among them, he is taken away in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at the watchman’s hand.’

Take care,

Sandy 🙂

Ps

I asked Roy what picture I should use and he said go out and take a picture on the street. There are plenty of motorbikes, so I did. There wasn’t a single one, but look at the legs of this crane.🤣