Except they were monks.
Our tour boat was a veritable United Nations with these monks, a woman in a sari, people speaking French, Chinese and Japanese.
My kids were snoozing so I had plenty of time to ponder spiritual analogies of an international assemblage gathered on this small boat in the no man’s land between nations. As if we were sailing the River Styx, instead of the St. Lawrence or something. Yeah I don’t know that wasn’t well thought out.
Mapping it Out
Virginia Farm Table
“Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me” by Ian Morgan Cron
Protect Yourself From Monkeys