Engaging with the Dhamma: Advice for Burmese Monastic Life

One hidden trap that some foreign yogis bring to their stay in Myanmar is coming with a frame of understanding how Dhamma is practiced in the Golden Land by idealizing it; this certainly applies to stays at monasteries as well. One becomes quite attached to this expectation, which ultimately carries within it the seeds of disappointment, as it is an preconception that will be impossible to meet. And when one’s experience inevitably starts falling outside that unrealistic frame, frustration (and even stronger emotions) sets in.

For example, it is not the case that all monks have joined the order with the sole purpose of attaining nibbana, that all lay supporters behave with perfect scruples when at monasteries and pagodas, that all young children possess a clear comprehension of the basic Buddhist principles as a result of their upbringing and education. Yes, some monks do watch the English Premier League while playing with their smart phones, some lay people flirt and listen to music at pagodas, and some children seem to take a pleasure in torturing monastery dogs.

There can be also be a well-intentioned but counterproductive (and condescending) Western meditators' bias that exults in finding wisdom in the poor, simple Burmese countryside, as if devotion and purity of practice can be explained by merely being burdened with less material opportunity in life. Some would-be monastics seek out monasteries in particularly isolated, rural villages with this as a partial motivation. But such an approach ignores the commonalities that form the fundamental human experience, whether in an affluent Los Angeles suburb, downtown Paris, a poor Delta hamlet… or almost any monastery. Lobha, dosa, and moha are encountered at every turn, as is the intention to follow the Noble Eight Fold Path.

In other words, this whole issue exemplifies the very thing Dhamma students who come to Myanmar come to practice… Dhamma! Yogis should examine their expectations carefully, and experience the country with open eyes, appreciating it on its own merits, not filtering it through an ultimately impossible standard or distorted set of expectations. The Middle Path is negotiated with life circumstances, and it can be inspiring to see how some of Burmese monks and meditators work to bring the Buddha’s teachings into every moment of (real, unvarnished) life.

A Proper Attitude

The following is an excerpt from the upcoming book Shwe Lan Ga Lay. This is the introduction to a chapter called "Settling In," which describes how foreign meditators can adjust the dhammic life of living at a Burmese monastery.

"When looking for a hotel room, it is quite reasonable—smart, even—to ask about the room, the shower, the bed, etc, and one is not being rude even to ask to inspect the room before choosing to stay; indeed, one would be remiss if they did not! But monasteries are not guesthouses. They are a place for yogis to develop their nekkamma parami, or the perfection of renunciation. By definition, monasteries are places of simple living, where only the most basic necessities are met. Various Burmese proverbs attest to the value of nekkamma, which is considered the wellspring from which true contentedness may arise. One is Yaung ye tin tain, or “one is satisfied with one has.” Another goes shi ta lay ne ya aung nay. Shita lay ne wa aung sar, or “one tries to live with what one has, and to eat what is available.”

And one should not interpret nekkamma as having to “put up with” or “bear” one’s circumstances, rather, these situations where one can really practice renunciation are genuine opportunities rarely found among daily society where the craving for “more” and “better” is ever-present. Naing Naing Tun speaks to this when he tells of a simple forest monastery he stayed in for some time, during his temporary monkhood. There were no amenities, and not even electricity, but he relates that “as soon as I arrived there, I didn’t need to worry about anything. I just pulled up a mat on the floor and that was my bed.” As the days passed, he found that the monks had happily adapted to the situation and become more attuned to their environment. For example, every evening they would open the western windows and watch as all the mosquitoes flew out, then close them before lighting one of the few candles they had. Despite not having mosquito coils or insect repellent, they found this trick somehow worked to remove them. When there were no candles, or when it wasn’t safe to use them with may dry leaves around, he remembers: “We just sat under the natural light, the moonlight, and discussed Dhamma. For food, we just ate from what we got on alms rounds. And I didn’t feel any of thoughts of ‘I need this or I need that.’ I was free of wanting this or that because I accepted that here, there is nothing. I already accepted things. If you have less things, you have less worry, less anxiety. This is the benefit of having nothing! Today, whenever I rewind this experience, I can’t compare it with any other time in my life. Now, when I have one more thing, I have one more worry—and sometimes a lot more!”

Yogis who have a medical condition or an important special request may inquire whether their need can be accommodated at the monastery. An example of a “special request” is having a bad back and needing a certain amount of padding when sleeping, or feeling under the weather and needing a quiet place to rest or some medicine. But yogis should realize that most monasteries have limited capacity to meet even these kinds of legitimate needs. And mere personal preferences for this or that are worth letting go of, such as wanting almond-flavor soymilk instead of 2%, or asking the kitchen to prepare separate dishes with fewer chilies. While many Western meditation centers may try to meet such requests, they are not appropriate at Burmese monasteries. Also, one should make sure to reimburse the office or kitchen for any additional expenditure that has been undertaken for oneself personally.

It is also important to keep in mind that many monks and Sayadaws, especially in more remote or smaller monasteries, may have had little to no previous contact with foreigners. For this reason, one’s behavior will impact not only one’s own relations with the monastery, but will likely have consequences for many more yogis who may wish to practice there in the future—if your stay causes any difficulties or complexities, then they may hesitate to offer such an opportunity to the next yogi. If this proves too great a challenge, then one may consider staying in a nearby hotel and visit the monastery during the day."

From the Other Side of the Mirror

The current Sayadaw at Aletawya Monastery in Yangon

In the fourth chapter of the Monastic Life section of the upcoming book Shwe Lan Ga Lay, we look at some of the adjustments needed when foreign meditators stay at Burmese monasteries for extended periods. The following is the introduction to this section:

"For many decades, the idea of retreating from the world and entering a Buddhist monastery has been gaining traction in the West. At present, it has come to take on a connotation that for those fed up by the ways of the world and the problems of human society, one can give up this modern world and opt instead for a more idyllic community, where the usual mundane problems will somehow be no longer present. Such a sentiment was expressed by journalist Megan Stack in Every Man in this Village is a Liar when she wrote that after years of covering the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, “I wanted to burn my notebooks and join a Buddhist monastery someplace.” The idea of simple monastic life being a cure-all can also be found in the words of the motivation guru Tony Robbins. Along with encouraging his followers to achieve financial riches and attract their dream partner, he also suggests that they set their sights on such esoteric pursuits as deep-sea diving, public speaking or... joining a Buddhist monastery.

However, once one understands the nature of kilesas, it becomes obvious that one cannot be truly happy in any environment so long as any defilements are present. To paraphrase a Ajahn Chah's response to a student who expressed dissatisfaction with the conditions at that monastery, "It’s like you have a piece of dog poop in a little bag you keep on a string around your neck. Everywhere you go, you say, ‘Yuck, this place stinks!’” And given that monastic communities (thankfully) open their doors to those who still have such defilements, it stands to reason that even these organizations are bound to have the same failings as can be common to the human condition. The important difference may be that at monastic settings, one at least tries to remain aware of the nature of these kilesas while striving towards liberation from them. However, as with most expectations, spend enough time at monasteries and even this basic premise may become challenged."

An Attitude of Renunciation

When foreign meditators stay for extended periods to practice Dhamma at Burmese monasteries, their attitude of renunciation is very important. For this, one may keep in mind the Burmese proverb, pyaw yah ma, ma ne ya. Taw ya hma, ne ya. Translated literally, this means “Where one is happy, don’t stay; and where one is in seclusion, stay!” U Sarana renders this further as “one should stay at a place conducive to one’s spiritual development, regardless of the comfort to be found there.” He notes that this Burmese proverb can be traced to the Vanapattha Sutta, in which the Buddha advises monks to remain at any site where “unestablished mindfulness has become established.”

In this Sutta, the Buddha goes on to state: "Here, bhikkhus, a bhikkhu lives in some jungle thicket. While he is living there his unestablished mindfulness becomes established, his unconcentrated mind becomes concentrated, his undestroyed taints come to destruction, he attains the unattained supreme security from bondage; yet the requisites of life that should be obtained by one gone forth...are hard to come by. The bhikkhu should consider thus: 'I am living in this jungle thicket. While I am living here my unestablished mindfulness has become established...I have attained the unattained supreme security from bondage; yet the requisites of life...are hard to come by. However, I did not go forth from the home life into homelessness for the sake of robes, almsfood, resting place, and medicinal requisites. Moreover, while I am living here my unestablished mindfulness has become established...I have attained the unattained supreme security from bondage.' Having reflected thus, that bhikkhu should continue living in that jungle thicket; he should not depart.

"Is it Easy to Communicate in English at Burmese Monasteries? Are Interviews and Guidance Provided?"

Meditators from the Pariyatti Pilgrimage had many successful experiences communicating with monks, despite the language gap

One yogi recently sent us a question asking how foreign yogis may communicate with Burmese monks. Following is our answer. For more questions about Dhamma in Burma to be answered on this blog, shoot us an email at burmadhamma(at)gmail.

"Is it easy to communicate in English at these monasteries? Are interviews and guidance provided?"

This depends on the type of monastery you are visiting. If you are staying at one that is consistently engaged in meditation practice and instruction, then a means of English communication is more likely to take place, especially if foreign yogis already come in some numbers. Translations and communication may occur through either monks or lay people who have spent time abroad, or written or audio material that is made available. At some monasteries sit may depend upon your luck when happening to visit, as there may be times when no bilingual people are present. For those monasteries that double as meditation centers, it is likely that they will have their own protocol as to when interviews, guidance, and Dhamma talks are given, and how (and if) translation is available. If you wanted to discuss meditation or Buddhism directly with a monk or Sayadaw, you would be welcome to, however a translation or English-speaking monk would be needed (and women yogis should take care to initiate such conversations only when another male is present).

Dhamma Found in a Burmese Teashop

A young child awaits a fresh cup of tea

Sam Hanft, an American yogi, spent several months in Burma in the winter of 2013/2014. He relates some of his more special experiences that he had in the Sagaing Hills:

"I arrived in Sagaing in the evening, having taken the bus from Mandalay, and decided I would get a hotel and start my search for a monastery the next morning. I was approached by a motorcyle taxi as I got off the bus, and within minutes was at a newly built hotel several dusty lanes away. After settling in, I asked the owner where I could get a bite to eat, and he suggested a place just down the road.

In retrospect, I'm sure he was talking about one of several beer stations on the corner. But I was new to Sagaing, and I walked into the first place I saw: a teahouse.

My arrival caused some commotion. The owners, a couple in their 50s, greeted me with smiles and ushered me to a plastic chair in the center of the shop. There were shouts behind the counter. Soon after, their youngest daughter emerged with a bashful smile. 'Myanmar food?' she asked. 'Yes, please.' All around, wide eyes diverted their gaze from the Myanmar movie blaring on the TV and settled on me.

Within minutes, I had a soup, two bowls of curry, and a plate of steaming rice in front of me. I didn't know at the time, but this was from the family's dinner; normally, they only serve noodle dishes to customers. The rest of the teashop's patrons looked on with envy as I dug in. When the owner saw that I had finished my soup, she generously gave me her own as she was sitting down to eat. Another bowl of curry arrived soon after. As I ate, I took in the scene. Customers laughed along with the film, chatted among themselves, or quietly sipped a cup of tea. The owner's three children bustled about taking orders, while two grandchildren ran under and between tables, tossing a ball back and forth. Satisfied, I asked to pay and was charged only for the tea. I was stunned.

Sam with the family that offered him breakfast each morning

I spent the next day hunting for a monastery with no success. I was looking for a place with an English-speaking Sayadaw where I could go on solitary retreat. At lunchtime, I headed back to the teahouse, where I was met with more smiles and food. Despite my best efforts, the family once again refused payment.

U Pinnisami, the Sayadaw at the monastery where Sam stayed

That evening, as I was preparing to go back to the hotel empty-handed, a taxi driver shouted at me from across the street--'Hey! Would you like to stay at a monastery?' It seemed like a dream come true. He took me to the hotel to collect my bags, and I settled into the monastery that evening. Now in a different part of town, I couldn't head back to the tea shop to eat or say goodbye. Little did I know, they had prepared a special curry and were awaiting my arrival.

The next day I heard from a friend who invited me to join him for the tail end of a pilgrimage. He was leading a group of foreign meditators around Myanmar to visit sites of interest to the lineage of U Goenka. Six days and many monasteries later, I was back in Mandalay planning the next leg of my trip. After my experience on the pilgrimage, I felt like sitting a Goenka meditation course. I also had an urge to head east and see the Shan plateau. But the tea shop family had been so generous to me, I felt I couldn't continue on without thanking them. So I bought some toys for the grandchildren and headed back to the monastery in Sagaing, thinking I'd stay a night or two.

I went to the shop the next day for lunch. Still new to the norms of giving in Burma, I was nervous about how my gifts would go over. My entry met with familiar smiles. I offered my gifts, which were received as if my gesture was the most natural in the world. Soon I was sitting next to the mother, sipping tea and snacking on boiled radishes. I spent all day at the shop. Before leaving, War War, the youngest daughter (and only English I speaking member of the family), offered to take me to Mingun the next morning. I hadn't planned on staying in the area long, but I couldn't say no.

War War and her mother prepare the tea

I spent the next day with War War and her friend Soe Min Htet, touring Mingun and Kaung Hmu Daw pagoda and getting lunch at their favorite restaurant in town. Again and again, I was caught off guard by their generosity. War War saw that my bag was torn and bought me a new one without saying a word. They paid for all the gas and food--I was never quick enough to beat them to the bill. Having little prior experience with Burmese hospitality, I felt anxious and wondered how I would repay them.

I spent the evening at the teashop, and at the end of the night War War offered to take me somewhere else if I came back the next day. Of course, I agreed.

The tea making area at the cafe

I ended up spending six weeks in Sagaing. I slept at the monastery, where I maintained my daily meditation and practiced English with the friendly Sayadaw. Every morning, I was offered breakfast by a family down the street who sold me water. With not a word of English spoken in the household, it promised an interesting start to each day. After that, I headed to the tea shop. War War and I would go to the market to buy the day's supply of food and drink, then sit together while she made tea and served customers. We practiced English and Burmese. Slowly, I learned how to make tea and was eventually allowed to take orders for the shop's regulars, who got a kick out of my serving them. I ate lunch and dinner with the family. I tried to help out wherever I could--washing dishes, cracking peanuts, sweeping--but the family did their best to ensure I didn't do any work. Mostly, I sat around and drank tea.

I met friends and friends of friends and made contacts through the monastery. I was invited to visit local sites, like Inwa, Amarapura, and the pagodas of the Sagaing Hills, as well as nearby villages, which my hosts told me had never before seen foreign visitors. I witnessed several novitiation ceremonies, whose glittering ox-carts and fanciful costumes were unlike anything I'd ever seen. More than once I was invited to stay overnight. The more time I spent in the area, the more I let go of my inhibitions and opened to the local way of living. Soon, I was eating with my hands, sporting jade jewelry and fuzzy flip flops, and smiling more than I ever had before. Everywhere I went, the hospitality was overflowing--food, lodging, smiles--and no one would ever accept a single kyat.

The novitation ceremony that Sam witnessed

One such occasion left a particular impression on me. Five young men my age, English students of my monastery's head monk, took me to their village. After a day of eating, swimming in the river, and singing and playing guitar, I was ready to go back to the monastery. I was offered an overnight stay but declined. Feeling a little guilty, I wondered who would take me back. It was dark, the drive was thirty minutes each way, and the windy dirt road was littered with bumps and holes. There was a festival in the village that night to boot. To my surprise, without exchanging a single word, all five of my hosts jumped on two motorbikes and accompanied me back to the monastery, singing and joking the whole way. All I could think of was all the times my friends back home and I had argued over who would give who a ride home. When we got to the monastery, we parted with earnest handshakes and warm goodbyes.

Sam with his new Burmese friends

I did my best to give back by teaching English and computer skills to anyone who was interested, which was almost everyone. I bought year-long memberships to the British Council in Mandalay for several friends who were sincere in their effort to study. I also had many long talks with War War, who secretly desired to leave the tea shop to seek professional work but, as the youngest daughter, was too scared to tell her parents (or anyone, for that matter) about her ambitions. Before leaving, I signed her up for an accounting course and facilitated a conversation with her mother, who happily agreed to hire a new worker to allow War War to pursue her dreams. Today, I got an email for War War telling me that she has an interview in Monywa for a hotel reception job.

I finally left Sagaing with plans to attend a Goenka meditation course in Mandalay, spend a couple days in Bagan, and then take a flight from Yangon to Bangkok, and from there back to the States. To my surprise, on the morning of the last day of the course, War War and Soe Min Htet showed up to drive me to the bus station to catch my ride to Bagan. As soon as I arrived in Bagan, I felt like I'd made a mistake. So I made a quick tour of the temples and booked a ticket back to Sagaing, where I spent my last three days before heading to Yangon and leaving the country.

My stay in Sagaing has left me with a lot to think about. I witnessed and received kindness, generosity, and consideration such as I had never known. Just as impressive, I saw people act with a straightforwardness and sincerity I assumed were relics of a bygone era. I also glimpsed some of the darker sides of such traditional life, particularly with respect to the treatment of women. Above all, my experience constantly challenged my ideas about how and why life should be lived, which is the greatest gift I could ask for."

Thazin Khin, the sister of War War, with her child

Burma Day 5: The Road to Mandalay

The pilgrimage group takes a final photo at Thoke a Monastery before departing for Mandalay by bus

Kory Goldberg continues his Burma pilgrimage journal while on the Pariyatti yatra. You can also consider joining a later pilgrimage in Burma yourself.

"The morning began at 5:00 am with another offering of alms to the Sangha. By this point everyone had already had the chance to serve the monks, nuns and yogis. It was beautiful to watch each one of us make space for the other, not being greedy for the chance to serve and make merit. During breakfast, Ven. Komala, the monk who hung around to answer our questions before going off to a cave to meditate for the next several months gave us instructions how to eat mindfully. He said when tasting the food we recognize without prejudice or preference that we are merely tasting and that this moment like all moments is impermanent. If anything, this pilgrimage is deepening the understanding that meditation is not an on the cushion, off the cushion experience, but a continuous exercise 24/7. Sure we slip and slip some more but the effort and determination is a practice in itself. Maintaining this awareness we made our way to the last meditation session in the ordination hall, feeling anicca in our minds, on our bodies and in the sounds of novices and the two young orphan children laughing and running around outside. Our last offering is of Burmese Dhamma books by Goenkaji, robes, and financial support to the monastary and the various charitable projects overseen by the Sayadaw was a touching moment for all as Ven. Komala demonstrated a sincere desire to help us in whatever way he could to continue our dhamma practice. Like all Sayadaws, he too had a particular zeal to disseminate the Buddha's teachings worldwide and for the first time in Burma's recent history the doors have swung wide open making that wish a possibility.

U Komala, a forest monk, graciously delayed his return to his private meditation cave to answer foreign yogis' questions about Burmese Buddhism 

A few of us took the luggage by truck to our bus waiting for us about 5 km away because the road was too narrow for our wide, super delux coach. While waiting for the others to arrive we spotted a line of about a dozen young monks walking along the road on alms around. We quickly got out a crate of tangerines and a tin of crackers to offer them. Curiously, most of them accepted our gifts, but a few of them did not. We all followed the standard protocal so I was surprised to eperience this rejection, especially since we were foreigners clad in Burmese attire and probably the first outsiders to ever have been there. Monks are supposed to accept whatever food that comes to their bowls, partly to cultivate a sense of detachment and equanimity, but even more so to create an opportunity for laypeople to gain merit. Did we do something wrong, or was improper practice from the monk's side? A healthy lesson that while they do wear the robes of the noble ones, they too are just human beings riddled with imperfections. 

With great happiness and rejoicing we see that our dhamma group has performed the wonderful merit of feeding an entire monastery for one meal

The road to Mandalay was fairly smooth and easy, giving us ample opportunity to restfully prepare for the next few days loaded with activity. And the hotel we are staying at also contributes to our rest. Incidentally our group is the first cutsomers to ever stay here . The owners, devotees of Pa Auk Sayadaw and who just donated a one million dollar monastic complex on 200 acres in Pyin Oo Lwin, provided us with brilliant hospitality and are very excited to receive the merit from serving a group of foreign yogis."

To see Day 6, go here!

The monastery kindly provided mosquito nets for the pilgrims to use during group sittings, and turned over use of their Sima Hall for such purposes during our stay

"Uncovering Monastic Life"

The opening lines from the subsection Uncovering Monastic Life...

“A person from the modern Western world can only marvel that a life of such beauty, grace and peace can even exist in this day and age. To live a life of such exquisite simplicity, refinement, and devotion is an extraordinary example of what is possible and indeed required of us in order to fulfill our perfections. With purity, concentration and wisdom as our foundation, we are able to follow the Buddha’s teachings in an exact way.” Daw Sanda Wadi, From One To Nun

Compared to other Theravada Buddhist countries such as Thailand and Sri Lanka, few Westerners have integrated into Burmese monastic life for a sustained period. In some ways it seems there has been more commentary on Burmese Buddhist life by 19th century Britons than by modern day foreign yogis and monastics. As the country continues to open, hopefully this will change as Buddhist practitioners are able to visit and appreciate the opportunity that Burmese monastic life provides.

A Burmese woman pays respects as monks pass on an alms round

Interactions with a Burmese Monastery

This from the chapter on "Roles and Relationships" in the Monastic Life chapter:

“People would have a fine time meeting friends at the monastery. ‘Apart from being a happy outing, a day at the monastery is satisfying in many ways, social, cultural and spiritual.’ I heard my grandmother used to say, never failed for all time. I concluded my diary the day at the monastery by the end of a perfect day.” Junior Win

“[My grandfather] usually had an interesting time discussing Buddhist scriptures with other retired gentlemen, who, like him, had found a useful vacation in the study of the scriptures in their retirements. Sometimes the discussions were spirited and they would often take their arguments to the head monk for decision. [My grandmother] would have a fine time meeting friends and she had an opportunity to do deeds of merit like sweeping the grounds. Children happily helped with chores and were taught the sacred duty of keeping the monastery grounds clean… Late in the afternoon we would come home, the end of a perfect day.” Khin Myo Chit (grandmother of Junior Win), Colorful Myanmar

A Burmese nun reads Buddhist scriptures at her nunnery

Introduction to Burmese Monasteries

In this excerpt from the book, we pick up an entry from our "Monasteries" chapter. Following is the introduction for the "Monastic Life" chapter:
---

One of the great joys that your visit in the Golden Land can bring is to experience an extended stay in a monastic environment.

Integrating into monastic life can involve joining a devoted community of practicing monks, nuns, supporters, and lay people. While you may have to negotiate some gaps in language and culture, many monasteries warmly welcome foreign yogis who come to learn more about Burmese Buddhist practice and take it as a privilege to look after them. For many, it is a treasured meritorious deed as through their actions they are able to spread Buddha’s teachings beyond their own limited region. It is also a wonderful way to make lasting relationships with Burmese monastic and lay people, and by joining their community wholeheartedly, it can deeply transform one’s practice and understanding of Dhamma. As one American monk notes, “My teacher, Venerable Pa-Auk Sayadaw says that if you like this place, then you have certain qualities, or as we call it, ‘parami’… eventually it comes down to being one who ‘enjoys themselves.’ Those who cannot and who want an easy and relaxed life eventually leave.”

Burmese monks at a local monastery