Image provided by: Clackamas Community College; Oregon City, OR
About The Clackamas print. (Oregon City, Oregon) 1989-2019 | View Entire Issue (May 24, 2000)
Part one of "On the Bus" ran in last week's A&E section. PART TWO “This seat, is it empty?” the old man asks. I look up, still a little dazed from my goodbye with Maribelle, and nod. I look up into an ancient face, a mask of wrinkles and creases crowned by a gleam ing, bald head. He must be close to the century mark and his eyes are all shiny and dark like two marbles. He’s carrying nothing but a small knapsack and his ticket. He sits down with intention, carefully resting his bag on his lap and smoothing out the layers of robe that cover him like an orange sea. A monk. He smiles quietly and intro duces hintiself as Wan Yen, placing palms together and nodding his head toward me by way of greeting. I tell him my name and stick my hand out, Maribelle-style. And, like me just a few hours before, he hesitates for a mo ment and then grasps it gen tly. Two gestures of hello, of goodwill, of peace. One an cient and unassuming, one forward, direct and distinctly American. It seems appropri ate. Then the bus driver is on the intercom, announcing de parture. Family and friends stand around the door and edges of the loading lanes, waving or dabbing eyes, ob scured by exhaust fumes and see an ink etching of a monk of America. Pollen specks we can become something the glare of the 3:00 sun. We sitting on top of a flower. He pick up speed as we fly past, better than where we are, what pull away, moving forward. He looks so peaceful and glad in swirling dizzily in the wind. we begin as.” has turned back to his own his jewels and robes. I smile The land and the sky dapple Something about this business, but I watch Wan faintly. with late sunlight. Children in makes me crumble inside. I Yen out of the corner of my We fall into a smooth, easy bare feet and overalls play on think of my past, so easily left eye, curiosity piqued. He sits conversation. I learn that old, rusty railroad tracks near behind, of Maribelle’s past, of quietly a moment with his Wan Yen is going to Sacra the side of the road. the future and what San Fran eyes closed, and then pulls a mento to join the Gold Moun “We change with it, leave cisco holds for me. Everyone worn book out of his knap tain Sagely Monastery. This home to find home,” he’s tell keeps talking about change, sack, flips to a page, and be bus ride is the last leg of a ing me. “What we leave be stretching and pulling to gins to read. week-long journey from South hind becomes what we seek wards something happier and The book is written in for Vietnam, his homeland. He out. Like the snake that sheds better. All the protesters and eign charac his skin to grow the riots and freedom ters and side ■■ the same one marches. ways lines back. All a I look out the window again, and I forget circle. ” watching the world speed I look up into an ancient face, a mask myself and And I keep past. Thinking about my of wrinkles and creases crowned by a crane my trying to under dreams, about Wan Yen’s dark neck forward, stand, wanting eyes. I have the strangest gleaming, bald head. He must be close i to understand. sensation of moving both to trying to de to the century mark and his eyes are cipher the Thinking about wards and away from some all shiny and dark like two marbles. language. Maribelle and thing at the same time. Without look where she is We pull into the next sta ing up, he now, about my tion. “Sacramento,” the inter murmurs, parents and be com booms. “Chinese lettering.” has come to America to es ing a musician. About the Wan Yen smooths out his My face grows warm and I cape the war. We talk about war. Wondering how the hell robe and stands. We share a quickly avert my eyes, watch that and the way people are I ended up on a bus in the smile and he nods towards me ing the passing scenery. changing. Wan Yen has lost middle of nowhere talking once again, saying goodbye, Trees and highway and pink his country to war and death, with a monk. heading up the aisle and out blue sky whir past. I feel the but he seems at peace with it Wan Yen knows I don’t the door, never noticing the weight of his eyes as they somehow. The whole thing quite understand, knows how stares and whispers. watch me, half-turned and makes me sad and angry and different our lives are, how I lean my head against the rosy-cheeked. small and I don’t understand different they have been up cool, smooth glass of the win “This is the Lotus Sutra. A why. Something in me feels I’ll until now. He tells me, “The dow and watch the people in most sacred Buddhist text.” I never understand. I tell him way of the world, it can only the loading lane, the same as look back at him and see his so. be understood here.” He the ones in the loading lane face and friendly, smiling We’re both silent for a points with an old knobby before that, and before that. eyes, and forget my embar minute, until Wan Yen says, finger to his heart. “Zen is Then I feel the jerky move rassment. “The world, it always chang this knowledge, holding it ment of someone settling into “Not just words, see. Pic ing, sometimes for better, there, not just here,” he con the seat next to me. tures too, for each set of sometimes for worse. Just cludes, pointing to his head. words. This here is Guan Yin. look around you.” He nods to “And, see, doesn’t matter Boddhisattva of mercy, helps ward the window. We’re trav where we come from. The lo others attain illumination.” elling down a random, dusty tus flower grows only in mud. "On the Bus" will conclude I look at the worn page and road somewhere in the heart We plant ourselves, knowing next week. Mouth-watering morsels are coming A sneak preview ofthe newface ofcafeteria food at Clackamas MANDY GOOD Sports Editor Fine Host, the new campus res taurant students will frequent on campus next year, proves there does not have to be a line be tween cafeterias and restau rants. Print cartoonist Joel Gunderson and I went on a brave mission last week to the Mt. Hood campus to sample the food that will replace Chartwells’ for the next school year. I have to say that when I go anywhere to eat cafeteria food, I get a little nervous. I remember my fair share of bad experiences and I didn’t want this to be another. I had a picture in my head of a dark cafeteria and a food line, where Joel and I were just going to cruise through the line and sample a few things they had to offer. If I was biased before, I no longer am. I have seen the other side. Fine Host offered a con siderable variety of food and an atmosphere that was bright and clean. A few things that jumped out at me as different from the typical “cafeteria” were: a salad bar that was plentifully stocked and looked fresh; a make-your- own sandwich bar (32 cents an ounce, with all the fixings); a pasta bar; soup variety; a wall of baked goods with another wall of coffees right next to it; and, in view as we walked in, a menu of items that were on “spe cial” for the week. The specials vary from week to week. When we visited, it was “Comfort Food Day,” and the menu included Baked Rosemary Chicken served with mashed po tatoes, gravy and a roll for the bargain price of $3.75. I did not sample that meal but I did see it, and it looked like something my mom would make. A vegetarian friendly Cheese Enchiladas served with beans and rice, again for a bargain price ($2.95), was also a featured special. The cafeteria also had a sepa rate section that sold Tortilla Wraps and Chinese food. Joel and I went straight to the wraps. The wraps, which will be typical at Clackamas, will be a hit. You may choose from cheese- jalopeno, garlic and herb, wheat, sun dried tomato or pesto torti llas. Then you may choose chicken fajita, chicken cordon bleu, turkey bacon club, chicken Caesar, or vegetarian wraps. The wraps cost $3.75 and they were huge. I ate half of one and I was full. They would be ideal to split with another person, and they are so good. Joel and I left with a brownie and a huge chocolate chip cookie for the road. Our bellies were full and our attitudes about cafeteria food were changed. I found the prices very reason able for the quality of food we enjoyed. Fine Host will spend $50,000 remodeling the Clackamas cafeteria and seems to have a lot to offer. It was obvious that there was a great deal of pride in their food ser vice. Variety, atmosphere and outstanding food raised Fine Host above the cafeteria cat egory. ■ It’s a scienti he's fuming After just minutes of expoqffl secondhand smoke, his immi system is weakened, blood t ens and his heart beats faste Magnify that by a day, a wee a year, and he may as well 6 smoking, himself. You want your teenagers to start working, not smoking. ■ ■■■ Fnd out what you can do about it! Call the Coalition for a Tobacco Free Clackamas County at (503) 557-5898
