What he told me was a story. The story of Nye San Di. I have often wondered since whether he had the gift to foretell the future because in a strange sort of way the story he told me did, indeed, save my life. He didn’t tell me the story in just one sitting. Instead it took days, weeks. And it started at Swedagon Pagoda in Myanmar.
And while he talked I sat cross-legged on the shiny wooden floor snacking on lotus seeds.
For an excellent log entry on ‘Lotus in Thai cuisine’ see http://shesimmers.com