Bangkok
This past week has been rich with new experiences and a deepening of my understanding of Thailand and Buddhism. On a personal front, I have turned the corner. Hans Selye, the father of adaptation theory, would be proud. I no longer open my sliding glass door to the deck in the morning after I've switched off the A/C, and sigh as my senses are assaulted with the odors and overcast that is a Bangkok norm. Now, I just embrace it as part of the gig, the way it is for now. First, the feral dogs and cats; now this acceptance. What next? A friend after a phonecall from the States this morning ( my time ) emailed me after the call. 'You're sounding very zen these day," he wrote.
Maybe so.
I have a few new students who have been trickling in from other temples in the area. I asked them how they knew about class. With a very slight smile they all reply:"my friend is a this wat. He told me about English class." These monks travel a good way considering the transportation system in this city. (Don't get me started. ) One of them, Kraiksuk, asked me if I would come visit his wat one day soon. He asked three days in a row, and finally, I consented. I hadn't been reticent because I was too busy, but because I wanted to be sure he wasn't being polite since I was his new teacher. For example, every day, there is lunch on my desk before class starts, and, often, water. It is part of the alms that the monks in my class have received from the lay Buddhists in the community that morning before class that they are sharing with me.
After class, Kraiksuk and I went down to the river pier near our classroom. We took the sputtering river ferry four stops on the public ferry boat. The boat is an old steel-hulled boat, about 50 feet long, that rushes up and down the river dropping mostly Thai but some tourists back and forth to work or school or to do errands. The boatman whistles as the boat arrives which I'm guessing is a signal for the pilot, then the stern of the boat whips around to the starboard side, and the boatsman ties off a single, mammoth line as the passengers hop off ( often with a gap between the pier and the boat...and believe me, you do NOT want to fall into the Chao Phraya River. Trust me. ), and new passengers embark. A woman comes by to see how far I'm going so I can pay the tariff. My monk student is free. All monks are free on public transportation as far as I can see.
Kraiksuk points to the port side of the boat as we take off again with a huge lunge. He leans in close to me, and says after clearing his throat, a bit nervously: " Teacher, do you know that monks cannot touch a woman?" I told him that I did, and that I was very careful about that, and careful about what I wore in class so that I showed respect. He smiled, looking relieved at at least my rudimentary understanding.
After leaving the boat at Sa Phraya pier, we walked a couple of blocks in the punishing sun to another ferry pier that would take us across the river to the area of Bangkok that he lives in, Klong San district. After that quick ride, we walked through a street market with lots of textiles and footwear, a very narrow alleyway, and then out onto the street where Taksin Hospital, all shiny white takes up almost a block. The whole trip took us about one hour. That's how it works in Bangkok. If you catch the boats just right it could be faster, but, like the subway, you never know.
We arrived at Wat Thongnopakun about noon. This was to be Kraiksuk's last meal for the day, so I asked if he would like to go with the other monks and eat while I waited outside their two story residence. Instead, he brought me water and strawberry soda. He introduced me to his friends, three or four other young monks, maybe 25 or so, who I imagine had been told that I was coming to visit. One monk arrived with a digital camera, and started taking pictures of Kraiksuk and me.
The temple complex seemed much larger than the temple where I am teaching, and Kraiksuk told me that there were 50 or more monks living there--some as young as 8 years old. He handed me three books on Buddhism since I had told him I was studying the religion. One of them, a scholarly text from a symposium on buddhism and ethics, seemed too much since I imagine he has used it to study. But, over my protests, he insisted.
We walked to the wat itself and all the time, his fellow monk taking pictures: in front of the temple, in the temple, at the door of the complex. This is the very first time I have been in a temple in Thailand, and certainly the first time a monk has shown me it personally. We removed our sandals and went in.
The temple was about the size of an American protestant church--or maybe a very large chapel--chandeliers, rich red floor coverings, gold from the Buddha dazzling. The interior was a rectangle, and in the center, there was a raised platform that was probably 30 feet wide, and is the special place for only monks to sit and pray. Non monks are not to step onto the space.
The three youngest monks were in the back of the temple giggling at the farang ( foreigner ) who my student had brought home with him.
On all of the walls, there were depictions of Buddha's life that had been painted over two hundred years ago. For some reason, the coloring ( grey background and very intricate detailed figures ) reminded me of the mural of the people who were falling off of the ladder to heaven that I saw and loved at St. Katherine's monastery in the Sinai which, while it is much older ( my memory is 12th Century? ) the craftsmanship was similar.
Kraiksuk took me back to the pier near the Klong Son market, and bid me goodbye. I would have never found my way back alone--not because I couldn't have figured it out, but because without Thai, I am very conscious of the energy it can take to be understood without either specific written instructions ( in Thai ) so that someone along the way can help me.
The experience was important for many reasons, not the least of which was Kraiksuk's real desire to learn to speak English. His grammar skills are excellent, and his written work is good. But he wanted to learn how to be understood, and that is what we have been concentrating on--meaning and diction.
What a perfect segue to Mahka Bajaday which will be celebrated tomorrow evening with a candlelight procession ( called Wian Tian ) and chanting.
Three of my students spent several minutes on Friday teaching me about this, one of the three high holy days in Thailand. This holy day commemorates the spontaneous arrival of over 1200 monks from different places all converging to pay homage to the historical Buddha. It was not considered just some amazing coincidence. Oh, and there was no internet to coordinate such a large showing! So tomorrow night, at sundown, temples all over Thailand will open their doors to lay Buddhists to share this holy day--especially since this is the day for lay Buddhist to show special appreciation for the monks or "songha" which means literally the body of monks.
Now back to the zen remark. How could it not be rubbing off? Do you know how they determine their holy days? By the lunar calendar. The moon seems to be theme for this journey. The moon is the East. The sun, the West, said a colleague the other day.
It's almost full. Again. A month has passed swiftly. A million miles from home.
MC
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