The Birth of Ledi Sayadaw and the Birth of Insight

After over four years of continuous effort by dozens of volunteers, Part 2 of the meditator's guide to Burma is almost out! Here is a sneak preview introducing the birthplace of the great Ledi Sayadaw:

On the surface, Sain Pyin seems pretty much like any other nondescript, rural, Dry Zone village. But for Burmese followers of the Buddha’s teachings, it is anything but! This is where the future Ledi Sayadaw was born, novitiated and ordained as a full bhikkhu in the mid-19th century. 

U Sarana translates Sain Pyin as “plain with wild oxen.” But it was not only oxen roaming these plains in the lower Chindwin Valley, as many kinds of wild animals called this the once-vast wilderness home. While far from developed today, the land has mostly been tamed, and the much tinier village of Ledi’s time has become a modest town of around 1,000 homes.

Given the lay name of Maung Tet Khaung, a miraculous event accompanied his birth in December 1846. After turning ten, the boy was sent to study at Kyaung Ma Monastery, becoming a novice at age fifteen and being given the name Shin Nyanadhaza, or in Pāḷi, Ñāṇadhaja, this means “banner of wisdom.” He learned Pāḷi and the scriptures under Sayadaw U Nanda, as was common in pre-colonial Burma, when monasteries were charged with looking after the educational needs of the community’s young men. Shin Nyanadhaza continued his monastic studies in nearby Ye Thwet Village. By the time of his full ordination, he had read all the books to be found in the two towns near his home.

Soon after becoming a bhikkhu, Shin Nyanadhaza went to Mandalay with another monk to continue his formal studies at the royal capital. Erik Braun notes that this journey would mark “a radical change in his life, for during his time there he was exposed to the ongoing encounter with the West. Before he left the city, he would find himself an active participant in that encounter.” But Sain Pyin Gyi is where that boy became a young man before that adventure ever started.

In Monywa, They Don’t Meat Their Saviors

Over a century ago, Ledi Sayadaw gave rousing sermons in the Monywa area around the theme that the lives of cattle should be protected from colonial Burma’s burgeoning meat industry. It may have taken over half a century, but since 1985, Monywa residents have taken his advice to heart. Following the Water Festival each year, Aleyat Chantha Gyi Pagoda accepts any oxen that have been labeled with the dreaded “killing license,” meaning they are headed to the slaughterhouses. Individual donors come forward to save these animals, and their donation pays for veterinarinary care (so long as the animals are able to walk, and free from infectious diseases). Through 2017, 207 oxen have been saved in this way, and are now sent to Ingyin Myain Ngwe Taung Monastery in Thabeikkyin township, where pagoda trustees hope to construct a new building to house the oxen. Foreign yogis interested in this cause may give dāna.

Ingyinbin Journal: The Scratchings of a Broom

John, a meditator from New Zealand, spends extended periods in Ingyinbin each year, the home of the revered Webu Sayadaw and with his friend Ashin Mandala. This winter, he has decided to keep a journal, which he has kindly offered to share with us. His journal alternates between observation and poetry, between meditation practice and commentary about Burmese Buddhist society, from his learnings and his questions. The full collection of his musings can be found here.

8 January 

Each day on the way to breakfast we walk over dust that has been swept, at least from a ‘here’ to a ‘there’, the scratchings where the broom has passed forming an interesting pattern, more watery than the lake. Meanwhile various white birds are still settled in the trees; in ones or twos or threes they depart. The patterns left in the dust by other birds as they stroll about are in contrast tangled, like ripples.

Nearby, sweetly intoning monks; on mp3
U Jotika expounds the citasikas; & entering
at the window light, blend of blends.

Around the corner a monk reclines in his chair of wooden boards, reciting what is on the sheet before him. Someone has dropped a fresh gladioli stalk onto the ground, its serial flowers still fresh in the dust. A couple of schoolboys respond to my greeting and we high-five …otherwise it is mainly dust on the ground all the distance round the crumbling perimeter wall of the monastery to our sitting hut. I do notice, near the gate entrance, a couple of ox-carts loaded high with rice hay, the driver precariously balanced atop; and a sweet-looking light brown-grey bird of reasonable size, a firm beak and I think russet on the upper breast. Another bird like this, maybe larger, is perched high in the tamarind tree immediately opposite the entrance, where often we see the little squirrels take a leap from the bare electric cable on the wooden poles onto the tree, a good metre or two’s gap.

Half the length of its tail, the squirrel
scampers along the aerial cable:
earth its mirror.

Slower Modes of Burmese Transport

In this excerpt from the book, we pick up an entry from our "You've Arrived" chapter. Following is a short excerpt from the section on slower modes of transport:
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Bicycle Rickshaws: These can be found in quiet corners of cities and in every village. They won’t be able to take you very far (especially in Yangon), because they can’t traverse some of the busier thoroughfares. But they are immensely enjoyable, and sometimes know peaceful shortcuts and side-streets that the bigger cars can’t or don’t follow. Most are also equipped with a front and back seat, so you can sit back to back with your travel companion.

Ox or Horse Carts: This how many farmers get around. If one is out in a village, it’s possible to get a ride on these. They are not usually used to ferry people, except in Pyin Oo Lwin and Bagan, where they are done up for tourists. Patricia Elliott, in her biography of the Yawnghwe Mahadevi Sao Hearn Hkam, recounts in The White Umbrella that, “to survive the jolts of a bullock car ride you had to sit just so in the center, swaying lightly to the cart’s movements, outstretched hands resting on the cart’s high sides.” Yogis can try this technique and compare the results as they travel across rural Shan country roads leading to their monastery of practice. Sao Sanda adds to this description in Moon Princess, writing that in older times such transport were only for those that could afford it, and most just walked from village to village, avoiding the tigers and panthers that roamed just off-trail.

Tractors: noisier than a rock concert, bouncier than a trampoline, dirtier than a smoggy day, and slower than a light jog. But, for the adventuresome…why not? Like ox-carts they do not generally travel further than the next village, although many may be willing to provide a short lift.

Bicycles: Bikes can be rented in several towns by the day, including Mandalay, Bagan, and around the outskirts of Inle. Information about extended bike tours can be found in standard Myanmar guidebooks, or by looking online.

On Foot: There are many places in Myanmar where the best way to get around is by foot, from hillside trails carved into the Sagaing Hills, to backstreet paths that cut across Yangon congestions and noise, to the joy of following on an alms round. If one is planning for extended walking tours, plan to bring comfortable footwear with you. You’ll also want to make sure to have protection against the harsher climates you may encounter, particularly the rains and sun.

A local villager direct his ox-cart in Upper Burma