Mahachulalongkornrajavidyalaya... say what?!

Rather than sit in lecture with Ajaan Supawadee as she tells us what she knows about Buddhism, ISDSI thinks it’s best to learn directly from the source: monks. So we piled into the rotdangs again and went to Mahachulalongkornrajavidyalaya University, a school for monks. Different than becoming a monk, this school is for monks who want to continue their education. They can earn bachelors, masters, and even PhD’s in Buddhist studies, philosophy, or related fields. Our teacher for the day was Pra Joelee (Pra is the respectful title for a monk, like Pi is for someone older than you). His English was better than our normal teacher, and he liked to joke around, so we had no problem keeping our attention focused.

 

Some of what he had to say I already knew and some I didn’t but I’ll give it all to you anyways. I knew there was a fat and a skinny Buddha, but wasn’t sure of the difference. Turns out the fat (Thai: oo-ahn) Buddha comes from China where they practice Mahayana Buddhism. This is also the dominant practice in Korea, Taiwan, and Japan. These monks train in Kung Fu for self-defense and to keep their bodies strong. Vajirayana Buddhism is practiced popularly in countries such as Tibet, Mongolia, India, and Putan. I didn’t write any other notes except “different meditation”… maybe if I had written this post a little sooner I’d remember what that was about. And finally there is Theravada Buddhism, which is practiced in Thailand, Sri Lanka, S. Vietnam, and Laos. This is known as the conservative group, is what we learned about from Pra Joelee.

First thing to understand about Buddhism is that is it NOT a religion. There isn’t any godly aspect, it is seen as a philosophy and a way of life. The “goal” of being Buddhist is to be happy in the here and now, to be free from suffering, and to manage the mind and body in harmony. The first to bring this philosophy to light was Siddharta Gautama, otherwise known as Buddha (which translates to waking one, or enlightenment). He was a prince in Thailand. Married at 16 with a son at 29, he left his life behind in search for the truth of life. He spent six years in the jungle meditating. He came back a changed man and others caught on to his way of thinking.

Some things he picked up were detachment – to learn from and understand the truth, but not to dwell on it. To free oneself from anger, desire, and passion in order to reach enlightenment.

 

Buddhists primarily want to live peacefully together. In order to do this they must be able to gain, get, give, forgive, and forget. In basic, there are three ‘goals’: 1. Avoid bad 2. Do good 3. Train your mind. Pretty vague, but that’s the point. The first point can be expanded to include the five principles laymen try to follow:

1.      Abstain from killing

2.      Abstain from stealing

3.      Abstain from sexual misconduct

4.      Abstain from lying

5.      Abstain from alcohol

Notice the wording I (and the monk) used: Avoid bad, try to follow, abstain from killing. But if you really just want to kill that mosquito that landed on you, that’d be bad. You’re trying, but that’s the 20^th damn one that’s landed on you in the last hour and you just can’t take another itchy bite. Unlike in religions such Christianity where you can be scolded in your family or even publicly for not following your religion (like cheating on a spouse, always go to church on Sunday, and not lying, all of which are stated as something which must be followed) the philosophy of Buddhism does not affect those around you. You don’t see Buddhist going door to door like is the common stereotype of Jehovah’s Witnesses (shout out to the Smith family) or flying internationally to build schools and wats (temples). What you do/don’t do to follow that way of life is your merit or problem, no one elses.

 

The second part is to do good. I’m not sure what happened to point three, I didn’t write down where the two split in my notes, so I’ll just talk about what I have written here, the middle path. This is the way to happiness. Negative thinking = a negative life, therefore positive thinking = a positive and happy life. You have to work towards the right understanding and the right thought in order to stay on the middle path. So you locked your car keys inside your car, why should you get angry and throw a fit? You’re not fully in control of your mind and therefore yourself if you allow this type of reaction. Instead, you can look at this as a nice opportunity to meet and talk with a police office that comes to open your car. It’s also a lesson you can learn from, to be more aware of where your possessions are (though if you’re a monk, you wouldn’t run into this problem as they have very, very few possessions). Or maybe you walk that day, and get to enjoy the beautiful outdoors.

 

That’s the right thought and understanding that a Buddhist might see the situation as. Of course, they are human so a little anger might flare up in there, where this makes them late to a job interview or a test at school. It’s not about eliminating emotion, far from it. This way of thinking is to recognize the emotions as natural and normal, but be able to control how you deal with the situation. In order to do this, one must have a strong mind. To demonstrate this, the monk has us meditate for 5 or 10 minutes, I’m not actually sure how long it was. He joked that he couldn’t imagine how dirty and unorganized our “monkey minds” must be, having never (or hardly ever) practiced meditating, training, cleaning, and controlling our minds. You say it would take a “strong willed” person to behave a certain way in their circumstances, but I think that person just has a better control of their mind. In meditation we were to focus on nothing, thinking about not thinking was still thinking, and that we were trying to stop.

It was a difficult task, but the monk walked us through it. It’s not really just thinking about nothing, it’s allowing yourself to recognize that you’re tired, to hear to birds outside, to feel the wood chair your sitting on, then to do nothing; to not react, to not look or touch or think about it. You recognize that it exists, the move past it. Such is the way a Buddhist tries to handle emotional situations. This is why you see Thai’s smiling all the time. Instead of being upset, they smile. They control their emotions, they control their voices (not many Thai’s are loud) they control themselves. And not all meditation is sitting, they also practice standing, walking and laying mediation (the latter I tried, but then I quickly fell asleep).

A few other point I didn’t work in there: in Thailand there are two types of monks, forest monks and city monks. Those in the forest meditate nearly all day, and this is really a time to work on themselves and train their minds. City monks have much more interation with people by performing funerals and ceremonies, blessings, accepting food in the mornings, sitting through monks day processions, and just conversing with people they meet. You’ll also see many monks just standing silently, waiting, as people kneel before them and make wishes and prayers. The monks are the living representation of Buddha, so they are very highly respected in Thai society. Another point is that there are 5 principles laymen try to follow, 10 little monks and novices try to follow, and 227 that ordained monks try to follow. So if you think the first 5 I have you would be hard, following the monk lifestyle is not for you. These men (and only men, in Thailand) are strong of mind. They do naught else but work to follow these principles, gaining merit along the way.

Also, for those wondering why monks can’t touch women… It is to keep the mind clean. The monk described it as such (using me as an example). Say he were to shake my hand when I left. The next time he meditates maybe he’s thinking “she had smooth hands. I’d like to touch them again” He tries to clear his mind, but he can’t stop thinking about that woman’s soft hands. And BAM! concentration broken. Therefore, to reduce temptation and thus help keep the mind clear, monks do not touch women. An accidental brush in a busy market is frowned upon, but can’t always be helped. Though when a woman sees a monk coming, in his bright orange robe (the monk showed us the different ways of wearing the robe too! It was so cool!) they make sure there is enough space for him to pass (plus doing so is doing good for the monk, and thus making merit for oneself).

Side note: we did ask Pra Joelee about what Buddhism had to say about the theory of any gods, to which he said they supported evolution. However he was really vague on this topic and didn’t fully answer our question. Though he did state that Buddhism by itself is not a religion, and thus does not recognize or believe in any god, but his support of evolution was shaky. We felt that with all that time to ponder, or think about nothing, he’d have a more sure-sounding answer for us. It seems like something someone would want to think about, but I guess they don’t. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to share with a bunch of 20 year old American students. I don’t know.

It was a really great day, listening to Pra Joelee talk about what he does, what he believes, and how he looks at life. It gave me a much better understanding of Buddhism, definitely more-so than any sort of high-school or college religions/philosophy class would have. It also gave a great insight into why Thai people act as they do. Knowing that, I think it will help me integrate better into Thai society. I’m having such a blast learning about Thailand! and I hope you are too as you read these posts.

Sawadeeka!

Sara

Rule #1: Always Check for Spiders

From my bed I can see 9 spiders hanging up along the corners of my celling (those are only the ones I can see, not the total number in my room. I’m sure there are more under the bed and behind the furniture, but I’m not about to go counting). They’re relatively small and look like the ones you’d see hanging out in the basement behind the dryer back in Ohio.  No big deal, they’re up there and I’m down here and they’re not about to come any closer.

That’s all fine and dandy until the spiders start getting a little bigger. And you’ve just taken off all your clothes while standing underneath it. And you’ve started to shower and turn around only to discover this spider. This spider which is hanging out above your clothes and towel and the door, a combination of two of the three you will need to leave the presence of the spider. In times like these spiders become a big deal. It was a very stressful shower, and now what I was looking forward to after spending the weekend sick and taking cold, miserable showers. [I told my sister it was there. She told my dad and he killed it. My mom was then sitting outside with the still twitching spider, picking it up and showing it to me. I stayed a few feet away at all times, telling her “de chan mai chop mang mom mack maaaaack!” (I really, reeeaaaaly don’t like spiders!) and making faces. She asked laughed questioned that I ‘didn’t like little spiders?’ (Fern translated). “Little?! That’s not little! It’s huge!” They then became very curious to know what spiders were like in America, to which I very unhappily described Ohio household and garden spiders.]

This picture does not do the spider justice to its size. The little one to the top right is about an inch wide. This guy is about four. This is as close as I could get + zoom (we have tall ceilings).

Another time it’s a problem is when you realize the sun has gone down and your clothes are still hanging outside. So you go to get them with your headlamp on and almost miss the gigantic spider web a few feet in front of your face and your clothes, that you somehow managed to miss in the daylight. And it has a thick, colorful spider sitting in its center, and you almost walk into it. Then it’s a little bit bigger deal.

Or your hiking and all 28 + instructors have to crawl underneath the spider web as to not disturb it. And the web is massive and you don’t even know how big the spider is or how close it might be lurking.

Or you have a choice between the western toilet and the squatty potty and you choose the western without first checking it out. You’re in an outdoor bathroom. You pull your pants down, sit, and realize there is an inch and a half long black and red spider sitting a foot away from your leg. Its web is attached to the trash bin, which you have to throw toilet paper in if you use it, which is a nice convenience where it’s available, as you finally don’t have to spray off and pull up your underwear on a now even wetter underside. 

Or when you go to put on your shoe, realize there is something else in it besides air, kick your shoe across the porch, and run screaming into the house and hide behind the door. In times like these, you’re actually laughing at your host sister, who is afraid of frogs… which happen to find shoes as superb temporary homes during the night. That was actually funny as hell. From her scream, I thought it must have been a giant spider, what else could be so scary? Nope, it’s a frog. I put it back in the pond.

So from now on, I’ve found out the best way to avoid and extremely unhappy confrontation with a spider is to check first. It still will result in seeing the spider, but will hopefully prevent from touching the spider, and the panic that ensues from even nearly touching it. Always check for spiders. Always. Before you get into bed, before you shower, before you take your clothes off the line, before you pick up your Frisbee (and unknowingly reach your hand through a spiders web, the yelp and fall across the floor). Rule #1: Always check for spiders.

I'm Hot Blooded, Check It and See...

I’ve got a fever of 103.7

This weekend we went on a retreat to a national park. I went over my packing list Thursday night to make sure I had everything. I was in such a great mood while I was packing because I was so excited to go. I felt just the slightest bit off but I couldn’t figure out what is was, so I took my temperature: a perfect 98.6 degrees. I went to bed an hour later than I planned, but still was going to get a good amount of sleep. Unfortunately, I could hardly get to sleep. After I did, I woke up at 4 am, and about every 20-30 minutes after that until I had to get up at 7:30. My digestive system was not having a good time, and I was not thrilled to have lost over three hours of sleep to constant tossing and turning. I took my temperature when I woke up: 99.4 what a great way to start the trip. I did not eat breakfast.

When I get dropped off at ISDSI I tell one of the field instructors (Pi Amy) what’s going on. I’m a little tired, and just slightly off, but otherwise feeling alright. I’m still optimistic about the weekend at this point. Well the first thing of the day is a swim test. We go to a gorgeous lake at the base of the mountains. 300 meter swim + 15 minutes treading water. I grew up swimming at Prairie Lane, so normally this would be no problem for me. However, by 10 am when I’m stepping in the water, I’m starting to notice how little sleep I got the night before. I pass the swim test alright, with a little more labored breathing the last 100 meters, but I passed (and on a normal day, I’d be fine).

Lunch comes around and I’m still not hungry, but I knew my body needs energy so I force myself to eat a little bit of fish, vegetables, and drink some water. We’re also having the Thai dish “dancing shrimp”. Can you guess why it’s called dancing shrimp? Yep, it’s because they’re still alive and jumping (quite high, I might add!) around. They’re only tiny little shrimp about the size of a nickel. They come in a closed container with spicey-lemony sauce. In a perfect world you shake it up to knock them out for a second, open it quick and scoop one out, shut the lid, and eat it before it wakes up. This is not a perfect world… At first my table had a few shrimp jumping all around. It landed in the fish plate, on the table, on the bamboo mats we were sitting on, into the spice sauce, these little things could move. After a few too many shakings our shrimp no longer ‘danced’ and they weren’t as exciting to eat anymore. I did eat a live one! It wasn’t bad at all, and the sauce made it really tasty (aroy in Thai).

The waterfall. We went past it on the hike so I finally got to see it.

When we got to the national park, we set ourselves up in the cabins: 15 Thai mattresses (meaning hard as a rock) all lined up along the walls on a raised floor, about 1 ½ feet off the regular floor. I don’t even remember what activities we had planned that afternoon, all I know is that when everyone went swimming at the 200 ft. waterfall during their free time, I slept. Through dinner, I slept (Pi Amy brought be a peanut butter sandwich. She’s the sweetest!). I brought my thermometer and was checking my temperature often. I figured out my temp was rising steadily at about one degree Fahrenheit per hour. This went on for a few hours, as I steadily got worse and worse. By the end of our Risk Management session with Ajaan Mark, my eyes were watering from the pain. It hurt to move and it hurt to stay still. It was the day after a crossfit workout, so I had normal muscle pain from that. I also over-exerted myself swimming, and had the full body ache like when you’ve got the flu. Add to that the bad nights sleep a day without food, and I was not in a happy place.

I tried to make it through the whole activity, but I couldn’t even pay attention to what my group-mates were saying directly to me, let alone figure out what the hell was going on as a whole. Once my temperature got up to 103.5 I called it quits. Pi Amy walked me back to the cabin. She gave me water and electrolytes “Here’s some electrolytes for you. It’s like Gatorade”. I took a sip “Doesn’t taste like Gatorade” I said as I made a face. She just laughed. She took my temp again and it was up to 103.7, which is when we decided to go for some Tylenol to bring it down. I tried to sleep, but every position was uncomfortable. Pi Amy slept in the bed next to me that night to make sure I was okay. She was on the phone with a doctor asking me a lot of questions because I usually have stomach pains after I eat any food at any meal (even back in the States this has been happening occasionally for a few years, and usually only after I ate cereal for breakfast but my doctor just thought it was lactose intolerance. I drink so much milk, it’s definitely not that). Anyways, she asked a bunch of questions, poked me in a bunch of places, and finally just game me more water and said to try to sleep it off. Then woke up every 4-5 hours to give me more meds and take my temperature again.

I had a very restless night. Either I was in too much pain to sleep, too hot and sweaty, too cold, or else was being woken up by Pi Amy for more Tylenol. Throughout all this I was supped to drink my full Nalgene, but every sip of water made my stomach hurt. After 20-30 minutes of pain, my intestines would rumble around for a little while, then I’d need a trip to the bathroom. I’d make it out of the cabin then have to stop and wait for the pain to go away before I could walk any further. Then I’d make it up the stairs and into the bathroom and have to stop again. Then finally into the stall, but bending my body down to the toilet was the most painful of all, and therefore usually came with a couple extra gasps of breath and/or tears (and once with a few minutes of sobbing, though that was partially because I knew I still had ¾ the Nalgene left, and I didn’t want to drink it and be in this pain the rest of the night).

I slept through breakfast, and made it to the second half of some talk we were having, but I honestly don’t remember what it was about. I remember walking what had to be at least half as fast as normal to get there. Sat there for half an hour, then went back to sleep. I slept through every single activity that day, including lunch, the second trip to the waterfall, dinner, and the bonfire games that night. Luckily though, my fever had been going down (very, very slowly) throughout the day. By Sunday morning I was actually feeling close to normal. My temp was under near 98.6, but not quite there yet. Every muscle was stiff and ached, but I was actually feeling a little happy that morning. I was feeling like a real person again, not a zombie.

A look down one of the paths we crossed over on our hike.

We had a 2 ½ -3 hr hike that morning which I decided to try. With a little help from my hiking group over the steeper terrain, a walking stick someone found me, and the good moral, I made it through (without falling! Which is more than some of my healthy peers can say). During that hike I had a clearer mind that I’d had all weekend, and got a lot of time to think. I’ve only been in Thailand for two weeks, but the friends I’ve made here are just amazing. They’ve helped me through the whole weekend and made me laugh when I didn’t want to smile. Alex practically forced me to leave the risk management activity when my temp was over 103 and my eyes were tearing up. The next day he asked me a few times how I was, and in just the most sincere way wished I got better soon. I don’t even remember what he said, I just know even in my clouded state I couldn’t believe he cared so much. Kari sent her good wishes with Pi Amy when she’d come to check on me throughout the day. Pi Amy herself slept by my bed to make sure I was alright. Daniel found me my walking stick, and he and a few others hiked behind me and made sure I didn’t fall. Michael pulled me up a steep slope. Megan, Charlotte, Rita, Erin, Aaron, Emma, nearly every single person asked how I was doing and some checked in with me throughout the day.

Saturday night, when we had our second bonfire, my temp was only around 100-101 and I was feeling pretty good, in relation to the previous days. Everyone’s laughing and singing and giggling made my mood so much better. We played a ridiculous tape game, where you put a piece of tape on your nose and touch it to someone else’s and whoever gets both pieces wins. Then you find another person to challenge (The Thai Pi’s joined in, but were a little weirded out by this game. Pi Pui was absolutely hilarious!) I sat out the next two games, as they played chicken fighting (grab your ankles and try to knock other people over. If you ever let go or fall, you’re out. Really entertaining to watch) and birdie on a perch (think musical chairs, but people are the chairs, and there’s a matching number, and a designated “chair” and the last one there loses). I joined back in for the sitting games thumper and mafia. I still felt pretty shitty, but it was a great night with all my ISDSI friends. And it’s to them that I say thank you. You all care so much and I appreciate it greatly. It in its own way made my weekend slightly enjoyable and meant a lot to me. 

Liz and Zena in tape wars.

Chicken fighting

Birdie on a perch

A Day Shane Would Love

“Wake up at 6, we go to temple tomorrow!” Awesome, I’m going to a Buddhist temple with my Thai family! Damn, waking up at 6 am on a Saturday, after hiking a mountain. It was definitely worth it. I groggily shower and change into respectable, yet cool, clothing. (In Thailand, the lightest, coolest clothing available is always best.) “We’re leaving at 7” which of course means be ready by 6:30, because we tend to leave ½ - 1 hour before the time they tell me we’re leaving. I’m not really sure where the mix up comes in, but it happens every time.

Anyways, the wat is just down the road. We walk in and immediately I’m getting stared at. Can you blame them? It’s not often a white American girl comes into a small temple in the countryside outside of Chiang Mai. We sit in front of the Buddha statue holding a small candle, flowers, and an incense stick. We wai, dip three times, and place our candles in with the rest of the row along the floor. The incense go into a jar of sand so they can continue burning. The two dozen incense already in there made the wat smell absolutely wonderful. We also place flowers, incense, and candles all bound together with string onto a triangular dish. Three are places, one towards each point. An additional bundle is placed on another plate. I forgot to mention that each of these were accompanied with a sprinkle of broken up popcorn. Then we go outside (or maybe this happened before the incense, I don’t remember) and give gifts to the monks. They aren’t actually there, but tables and plates are set up. I pour a little water into three containers, and place food and toiletries onto the plates. We take our seats in the back where there is space and wait. It sounds just like any other service might before it starts, quiet chatter going around, especially between all the women.

Females are not permitted inside this. In Lampuhn

A monk walks out and seats himself on a raised platform along the wall. This is done because commoners are supposed to be physically lower than monks and Buddha statues at all times and if the monk sits on the floor, there’s not much left but to lay down. So they sit on platforms. A man picks up a microphone and starts a chant in Bali. Everyone, myself included, is in a constant wai. Three more monks walk out and sit down along the wall with the first. During specific parts of the chant, and I don’t know which parts because I don’t know Bali, we place our palms and heads on the floor (or as close as one can get, depending on physical ability).

During one part everyone files out and places rice into bowls for the monks. I think there must have been two more monks hiding out somewhere because there were six bowls out. Anyways, we walk back in and sit down, and the chanting resumes. We pour water into little bowls in front of us and hold them up at face level. Then everyone gets up, walks outside, and leaves. I had no idea it was even over until someone poured out their water, hopped on their motorcycle, and sped out.

Fern on her second try with the wishing elephant

Later on that day we head to Lampuhn, the province below us. We visited many different wats, and some of them had multiple temples. They’re gorgeous, awe-inspiring structures. The builders take the time for every little detail, so the wats shimmer and shine with all the different glass. Mosaics, painting, or detailed woodwork line every inch of the wats. Outside of one there is a giant gong which you’re supposed to hit three times, so I do. In another there’s a small metal elephant statue with a ring on it. You make a wish and lift up the statue. The ring is only big enough for one finger and the statue is really heavy. I think the higher you lift it, the better sign it is that your wish will come true, but don’t quote me on that. It’s just a guess from Fern having to do it twice when the first attempt didn’t go over so well.

Also, Thai’s put a lot of stock into when you were born. The month, day of the week, date, and time of day are all important. I believe there are seven differently oriented Buddha statues for each day of the week, but again I’m working in some pretty constrained language barriers… so don’t quote me on that. Mondays is a standing Buddha with the right palm facing outwards, as if waving in Thai fashion (yes, the Thai’s do wave differently. Yet it’s not that different at all, just more structured. Picture someone with palm facing you, and the arm at a 90 degree angle from that. Then they rotate the hand back and forth as if on an axis).

A very ornate wat, in Lampuhn

We finished off the afternoon with some lunch and a trip to the market. My host mom graciously bought me a bracelet that I seemed to look at for just a second longer than everything else. I’ve noticed she’s incredibly attentive to me. If I yawn or rub my eyes a combined total of two or more times, I’m sent to bed. She feeds me often, asks if I’m thirsty, and always tries to keep the fan pointed more towards me. She also doesn’t speak any English, so body language is key.

So is charades… which I got to play with her today. Some Thai’s don’t wash their bras, socks, and underwear together with their clothes, and some won’t allow them in the washing machine at all (which is outside and we fill with a hose for the wash and rinse cycles. On the plus side, it’s hard to forget about your laundry when you’re forced to me so attentive! My dad would appreciate that, as I always forget my laundry until he reminds me of it). I wanted to do my laundry, so I grabbed a sock, a pair on underwear, and a shirt. I mimed putting the shirt in the washer, then held up the sock and underwear and mimed putting them in with the shirt, and washing them by hand. She pointed to the washing machine (yay, because that’s so much easier and less time consuming). Even without a common language, we can still communicate (sometimes) and I always know she cares.