Reflections on Kason

Melissa Tun is an Australian-trained lawyer who came back to her homeland of Burma, and currently co-organizes the TedX annual talks. She wrote the following reflection on the holy Buddhist holiday of Kason.

"It was the evening of the eve of the Kason full moon, the second month of the Buddhist lunar calendar, and a day highly important to the Buddhist for it marks the birth, enlightenment, and nirvana (death) of Buddha. I paid a visit to the Shwe Dagon Pagoda to enjoy the wonderful serenity that envelopes it at night. Under various pavilions around the pagoda, there were groups of pilgrims chanting prayers, sharing their merits with other fellow worshippers. Their chants so ethereal and meditative it almost brought tears to my eyes. This land can be so beautiful surrounded by so much metta and loving kindness and yet be subjected to so much poverty and violence, desperate and abject poverty that no one deserves. It never fails to shake me to the core.

As I left the pagoda that night, I saw small children sleeping on cardboard at the foot of the stairs to the pagoda on the Eastern Moat; where a market sets up every night. They were young and bony, wearing tattered clothes and clearly exhausted from a hard day. By their side were sleeping a pack of small puppies, whose fortunes looked similarly unhappy. And a deep sense of sorrow washed over me. Sorrow for all the suffering, unnecessary suffering by those who were born into this world with a bleak life ahead. Sorrow for all the decades of wrongs that cannot be undone. Sorrow for all the quagmire and failed policies, the failures of institutions which were meant to serve the people.

When will deliverance come for those children? When will their brighter future appear? How can I be a part of making that future become a reality? Is there room in this country for those who want big bold change like me? A future that this country and all of its people deserve. A future that is much brighter, safer, secure, and full of opportunities.

As I left the pagoda that night, all I could do was pray. For a future when the children do not sell flowers on the streets. A future when the teashops will not be served by children who have had no schooling. For a future when the children do not beg at the foot of the Shwe Dagon. Am I asking for too much? A future without children flower sellers, child labourers and child beggars? Am I asking for too much for that future to come faster and to be this impatient for change?"

Vinaya in contemporary Burmese Buddhist culture

In the 2,500 years since the Buddha lived, his teachings have been exported and implemented in dozens of countries to various extents, and over time cultural customs and conventional practices have become integrated and influenced in the doctrine that this spiritual teacher established. As these Buddhist societies have developed over time, it may be all but inevitable that they begin to take the individual cultural leanings of their respective societies, which over many decades and centuries also begin to affect the basic vinaya (monastic discipline) that the Buddha himself laid down. In some cases these cultural tendencies can loosen up the stricter guidelines that the Buddha mandated, and yet in other cases these cultural practices do the opposite, making a tighter practice than was clearly allowed for. In the Burmese context, an example of the former is the prohibition of the Buddha that monks may never touch money, which an overwhelming number of Burmese monastics do today despite the clear violation. An example of the former is a largely rural, superstitious belief that it is bad karma to walk in the shadow of a monastic, even though no such guideline was ever uttered by the Buddha himself.

This brings us to this rather alarming photo, shared by one concerned reader of this page, in which the center subject, a Burmese woman, took and shared herself. It depicts her grasping the full body of a Buddhist novice (while he peers through a viewfinder) with a joyous expression whose underlying meaning can be interpreted according to the generosity of the viewer. According to the monastic code, any contact that a bhikkhu makes with a female is a clear violation, however in the case of a novice, while physical contact with females are surely not encouraged, it is technically not a violation unless the novice experiences feelings of lust while the contact is being made. So while one cannot say that a clear technical violation is being made as it would depend on the mental state of the novice, it is certainly concerning to see such full-bodied contact not only made at the country's most sacred Buddhist site, but then publicly shared and broadcast to garner hundreds of reactions and comments online.

Comments and captions remark that the photo no more declares a kind of sisterly or maternal care and regard the image as more cute or endearing than harmless. However the Buddha rightly foresaw the dangers that lust could cause on the spiritual path and this is why he gave the guidelines he did, so it is more than a little shocking to see such open physical contact between the genders flaunted and shared so openly, not only at the famous pagoda itself, but also across social media platforms. In other words, this was not just an unexpected act taking place at such a holy site, but also one that was intentionally and publicly broadcast for others to enjoy-- which is why it has been re-shared here after its recent popularity, although with a wholly different commentary.

Burmese Buddhism: Vast, Brutal, Gentle, and Sticky

 By Miles Bukiet 

"Much of the Buddhist world has been crushed over the last century. The wake of devastation stretches across the Asian continent, a result of the Communists in Mongolia, Vietnam and Laos, the Cultural Revolution in China, and the ongoing ruthless occupation in Tibet. Even the countries spared violent political suppression have been assaulted by modernization and development. In Thailand, for example, economic growth has led to the wholesale destruction of the forests that once served as the ground of the Forest Tradition. Is there anywhere dharma is still at the root of things, where the people have been steeped in it for millennia, where the built environment reflects the devotion of a nation, where the spirit of the society is infused with the wisdom of the Triple Gem? 

Welcome to Myanmar. 

Many know of Myanmar as an incubator for the modern Vipassana movement, the home of Mahasi Sayadaw and the birthplace of S.N Goenka. Others know it as the base of the fabled Pa Auk monastery. These strands of teaching and practice lured me to Myanmar with their promise of fourteen hours of meditation a day, the strictness of their demands, and the fullness of their support. Wake up before dawn, keep your mouth shut, and sit through pain in exchange for a bed and a free lunch. This was the brutal no nonsense approach I sought. If this is what you seek, Myanmar won’t let you down. 

My own journey began last winter at Panditarama, a sprawling 100-acre campus still presided over by the indomitable Sayadaw U Pandita, a man who has been in robes for more then 80 years. Here the task is an unremitting focus on the moment-to-moment arising of phenomena. From 4:30am until at least 9:00pm you alternate sitting and walking meditation in one-hour blocks. There’s a ferocity to the approach here. It’s not about feeling good; it’s about relentless application of the technique, and hopefully over time a breakthrough to liberating insight.

Pa Auk has a similarly driven attitude although the focus is, at least in the early stages, narrowed to the breath and sitting meditation is prioritized. Its 500-acre campus inhabits a forested hillside with kutis spreading up steep pathways and extending deep into the jungle, making the scale almost impossible to grasp. These kutis house the monks, whose numbers sometimes swell to over 1000. Go to either Pa Auk or Panditarama and you will be assured a clean and comfortable lodging, abundant food twice daily and the expectation of rigorous practice.

I most likely would have stuck to this limited itinerary if it weren’t for a chance encounter with a man named Joah that would radically alter my trajectory. Neat, trim, fit, he carries a quiet calm matched by a fierce intensity of purpose. Two years ago a small group of foreign yogis at the Shwe Oo Min center north of Yangon met to exchange tips about where to study. Seeing that most of these yogis were new to the country and understood very little about the ins and outs of Burmese Buddhism and culture, Joah began gathering and collating information in order to deepen and enrich the experience of foreigners living and practicing in Myanmar. The project has since snowballed into an exhaustive and long overdue guide to Burmese Buddhism. This guide will become an immediate classic of indispensable value to anyone looking to experience the dharma first hand in Myanmar as well as for those with a more armchair style curiosity. But the book is about more then just satiating idle curiosity and facilitating the experience of foreign yogis. It’s a treasure trove of history and a chronicling of one of the richest extant cultural realms on this planet. It arrives at a time of radical change and will help to redefine what development and progress can mean, not only in Myanmar, but in Southeast Asia and the world at large.

The book is called Shwe Lan Ga Lay (Shwe Lan for short), which translates as The Golden Path. It contains a thumbnail sketch of hundreds of monasteries, practice centers, monuments, pagodas, shrines, and stupas across the country. It profiles dozens of Sayadaws, both contemporary and historical, and it contains information from interviews with Sayadaws, scholars, lay devotes, and seasoned foreign yogis. Much of this content has never before appeared in English, and some of it has never before been written down in any language whatsoever. The book has a section on Burmese culture and the ways to be respectful, focusing on common guffaws and cultural differences. It notes the practicalities of travel with information on transportation, health, food, and visas. It will even teach you how to ordain as a monk.

With dozens of artists donating original pieces, both professional and amateur photographers contributing photographs, and professional designers working to create a dynamic layout, it promises to pack a strong visual punch to match the hefty written portion. When Shwe Lan is completed Pariyatti, a non-profit devoted to disseminating the teachings of the Buddha, will publish it in a way that insures as broad a distribution as possible including freely available e-versions.

More impressive still, the entire document has been created exclusively by volunteers and a scanty few thousand dollars of dana (donations) to cover various costs. I was floored and struck with a powerful urge to lend a hand. Joah emailed me and another young American, Sam Hanft, a list of 25 places to scout in Yangon. For each place we were instructed to report back on the conditions, the food, the sleeping arrangements, the style of teaching, and the vibe. We were asked to iron out directions, cull anecdotes, interview Sayadaws, record relevant history, and take pictures.

The scale of the task begins to crush me as even finding the monasteries proves to be a maddening undertaking and a herculean test of patience. Hurled into Yangon, the pulsing hub of the emerging nation, I spend a sweaty confused week lost and stuck in traffic. Busted sidewalks, with potholes big enough to fall into, heave with swarms of people hawking cheap Chinese merchandise and local fruits. Several stories above the mayhem, trees grow through the cracks of the function over style concrete flats that dominate the downtown. A rooster sits on the top of a glass counter full of the latest model knock off smart-phones. This is the angsty epicenter of the nation set to set to become the newest democracy in Southeast Asia, set to increase its GDP ten fold in the next decade.

But despite all the hustle, and bustle, despite the promise of modernity, despite the smog, and despite the traffic, there is the palpable sense of a collective, expectant pause. On a balmy evening, wandering the streets of Yangon, a Burmese friend and a poet, quips to me “it’s like Godot around here, everyone’s waiting, but they don’t know what they’re waiting for.” Myanmar is poised to transform, but in the interim you’re still hard pressed to find internet or an ATM and you can still see an older, gentler way of life and practice of dharma. This poisedness lends a poignancy to all that I see, a sense that the world that’s unfolding in front of me, the world that Joah is eager to share, is open, but only for a moment. 

Even within the crowded downtown, each monastery is a universe unto itself. Aletawya Monastery is lost in time with decaying colonial relics interspersed with lush green foliage and hidden pagodas. Orange robes hang on lines as elderly monks move quietly about their business and cats bask in the sun. Dhamma Theidhi Kya Ung center is full of the charged youthful energy of hundreds of novices showering and running about. Smart new concrete school buildings stand proudly above the well-marked sports fields. The Mogok Headquarters occupies the sprawling former tax building. In the 1950’s this was a crucial center for the massive post war meditation boom, when tens of thousands took up the practice for the first time. Drenched in history it’s a Blade Runneresque maze of corridors and rooms, some filled with huge dusty machinery. Everywhere wires and pipes run this way and that. Dhamidaow Daya Dhukhidarma is an orderly and serene nunnery housing hundreds of well fed young women dressed in the classical hot pink robes. Some monasteries ooze a turgid energy with pudgy monks lazily lounging, chewing betel nut, the fast acting narcotic of choice in Myanmar, as packs of mangy dogs roam the grounds.

The continual refrain from the monasteries is: come stay, come practice, come learn. Everyone is ready to roll out another mat to sleep on, ready to set up another mosquito net to meditate under, ready to make room on the floor around one of the round tables laden with food. Whatever your style, whether it’s learning Burmese and studying Pali; practicing one of the many different types of meditation; or helping the young novices there’s somewhere to suit you. Shwe Lan will highlight this diversity of options opening dharma doors both within and beyond the formal practice of meditation. 

Something of both the relative and absolute scale of it all can be grasped by noting that Myanmar is a country with 53 million people and a whopping monastic population of over 500,000. Those 500,000 live off donations alone. Myanmar is one of the poorest nations in the world, and yet the society somehow manages, through extraordinary generosity, to unfailingly support its bulging monastic population. Much of this generosity comes in the form of a single spoonful of rice given daily. Indeed this generosity, and the faith and understanding that inspires it, is legendary. This spirit of giving has created a softening effect on the country, such that despite the poverty, and despite the political oppression there is an air of friendliness and safety. The people possess an unusual uprightness both physically and psychologically, and they have a remarkable brightness and warmth. Some of the money that flows into the monastic world is squandered on flat screens for the Sayadaws, vain building projects, and sluggish monks, but much of it is funneled towards education and authentic practice whose fruits radiate through the entire society.

Watching a long line of monks marching through the streets at dawn, large metal bowls held out expectantly, people bowing and filling them with all types of food, I wonder how long such generosity can last as Myanmar hurtles into the 21st century. Shwe Lan reminds us that change is not new to Myanmar, recounting the mighty kingdoms that have come and gone, the rise and fall of colonial rule, the passing of the World Wars, and the five decade long grip of a corrupt military regime. Somehow through it all the dharma has remained strong and relevant, often reinventing itself to do so. But the juggernaut of consumerist culture that is already descending on the land is something unprecedented. How the society galvanizes to protect what’s worthwhile in the culture, while also working towards valid development goals concerning health, sanitation, infrastructure, access to education, ending hunger, the alleviation of poverty, and protection of minority rights, will have effects far beyond the boundaries of the nation.

Although originally tasked with investigating particular monasteries, it seems Myanmar is so saturated with Buddhism that I can’t help but trip and fall over it everywhere I go. Riding on one of the busy highways I see a massive Buddha, perhaps dozens of stories high, rearing up from the flat lands visible through the haze like a mirage. “What’s that?” I ask the cab driver excitedly. He dishes back a deadpan shrug as though such things are so commonplace as to be forgettable. Trundling through the streets on one of the 1950’s wood floor buses, I look up and notice that above the driver the bus has its own shrine, with flowers, pictures, and a small statue. I soon discover this is nearly universally the case.

Stumbling upon the former residence of Aung San, the much-loved father of modern Myanmar, I learn that despite being both a general and a communist, he was also a devoted Buddhist. In a turret of his house I pause for a moment of meditation in front of the gold, oddly squat Buddha statue where the general sat quietly each morning in the last few years of his life. My spine tingles and, chills course up and down my body. There’s a palpable charge to this turret. It’s not only here. Almost daily I find places that provoke this peculiar energetic reaction. 

At night Shwedagon Pagoda, beaming over Yangon, beckons me to retreat north of the downtown. As the heat recedes and the crowds dissipate, I walk barefoot on the still warm marble, head craning up to see the 344ft golden spire stretching towards the heavens. The profound allure of gold, its austere and relentless beauty against a dark sky, captivates the eye. Listen carefully and you’ll hear the singing of the small brass wind chimes placed high on the monument. Lovers walk hand in hand and families picnic idly.

In Myanmar the romantic rarely comes without a reminder of the real as the nation grows up. A youth anxiously spins his smart phone in his hand as he talks in a jittery manner with his girlfriend. LEDs have been affixed behind many of the bronze Buddhas nestled at the foot of the pagoda and cheesy looking plaster statues have been added around the base. The true devotees don’t seem to mind, kneeling silently by the Buddhas in the various reliefs, the altars full of offerings, fruits, flowers, dried goods, incense. A time for prayer. A time to tune into something beyond time.

I’ve become lost in this strange timeless momentum and have taken a young Sayadaw named U Asabha, at his word to come and stay. On the outskirts of Yangon is a vast sprawling neighborhood known as South Dagon. Flat, dry, hot, poor, and dusty, its massive blocks stretch for miles, lined with rickety wooden houses packed close to one another. Small makeshift footbridges cross the open sewers that run alongside the bumpy dirt streets. Sayadaw U Asabha speaks impeccable English, and teaches in the Mogok style, a style that is barely known in the West, but with more then 700 major centers, represents the most practiced tradition in Myanmar today. He presides over Shwe War Win monastery on a small plot at the corner of one of the blocks.

He takes me with him everywhere. Day after day we wind through the neighborhoods in his Toyota 4Runner, his infatigueable driver spitting betel nut out the window, honking his way through pedestrian-choked streets. We’re off to lunches and breakfasts, Sayadaw U Asabha blesses the homes, the babies, the marriages, and gives dharma talks everywhere he goes. Each home, no matter how modest the family, provides an immaculate spread, of fruits, rice, tealeaf salad, fish, curries, tea, sweets, on and on. Rolling out low wooden tables to sit around, they take great joy in offering food to the monks and me.

At night we’re often driven to this or that neighborhood of Yangon for large public talks where many hundreds of people cram into a temple or onto the streets that have been closed off for the occasion. The Sayadaw’s normally cool temperament is here augmented by a ferocity that sweeps the crowds on a roller coaster from excitement to hushed silence and on into the rollicking laughter so typical of the Burmese people. When he leaves the organizers present him with piles of cash gathered from the attendees, shoeboxes or plus sized envelopes stuffed with kyat. As per monastic code he doesn’t touch any of it. Instead one of his lay supporters carries it faithfully back to the car. This will go towards the construction of his monastery and towards feeding and educating the monks and young novices under his care. Somehow in his spare time he manages to instruct me on the Theory of Dependent Origination, the central teaching of the Mogok tradition. He’s adamant that the link between vedana (feelings) and tanha (craving) is the crucial link that must be severed in the karmic cycle.

He takes me south with him to the bottom of Mon state for a retreat. We clunk along in the 4Runner for twelve hours on poor roads with four people to a three-person seat. The retreat is an assault on my senses as Burmese continuously blares through loud speakers across the monastery. But the dharma is between the cracks out here. A young man noting the awkward position I’ve ended up in takes me on his motor-bike on an impromptu tour around the state to see massive religious monuments and enormous forested monasteries supported miraculously by local farming communities. I get a glimpse of the vastness of the monastic network and gain a new respect for the power of a spoonful of rice. In the small “kitchen” a handful of middle-aged women with large smiles, a few immense woks, and a small pile of wood, crank out enough food to feed hundreds. They consistently come by and ask me “alright?”, “happy?”, “enough?”. I assure them “kaun deh,” Burmese for “it’s / I’m great.” 

Golden Rock Pagoda in Mon State

When it’s time to part ways with Sayadaw U Asabha a young man offers to take me to the bus stop and once there he buys me a ticket before I know what he’s doing. It’s only 5000 kyat, a few dollars, but for him it’s likely a week’s pay. To refuse would be obscene so I accept as graciously as I can. “Call me when you get to Pa Auk, it’s good place, it’s good thing you do, good luck.” He leaves me with these words and I leave with a heart bursting with the absurdity and the profundity of such a gesture. There’s a saying that when it comes to Theravada Buddhism: if you want the universities go to Sri Lanka, if you want to learn the Viniya go to Thailand, but if you want to practice, go to Myanmar. Everyone is relentlessly ready to help and is determined to support you in any way they can.

Before I leave Myanmar I head north to the Sagaing Hills, a place I had never heard of, but for a few words from Joah and the battered pages of printed notes from an advance copy of Shwe Lan. “It’s difficult to overstate the majesty and wonder of the Sagaing Hills. And for the yogi intent on Burmese Buddhist practice, there are few—if any—places that compare... with an estimated 1,000 monasteries and 200 nunneries—many of them consisting of just little more than a scant collection of buildings on a quiet hillside— and well over 15,000 in robes, it is a living, breathing Buddhist community almost unparalleled in the modern world.”

Further along in the Shwe Lan section is a quote from V. C. Scott O’Conner in Mandalay and Other Cities of the Past in Burma that seems as true today as it was one hundred plus years ago when he wrote it. “By far the most interesting part of Sagaing lies in the hilly country above it, where austere monks live; and every peak bears testimony to the piety of bygone kings and people…. The effect of the spectacle is enhanced, and lifted up to something strangely majestic, by the atmosphere, dry, prismatic, mystical— glorious with all the effulgence of Sagaing… One does not come upon sights like this out of Burma. There is some unconscious undercurrent of great qualities in the Burman personality that alone makes them possible.”

At a quiet monastery, tucked into a valley in the Hills, I stumble upon an old friend and a small gaggle of foreigners. I tell them a bit about the project and they nod. “Ohhh, just don’t tell them about these Hills” they giggle to themselves, wanting to keep Sagaing a secret. For a moment I falter. Perhaps they’re right. Maybe sharing these places will just spoil them, leave them overrun the same way the Lonely Planet often destroys the very places it highlights. Joah has already considered this, opting to craft the Sagaing section not as a traditional guide, but as a monument to the unknown and untold history of Sagaing and an open invitation to make your own path there… still I wonder.

But as I wander for days up and over and around the hills I begin to see just how embattled this ancient bastion is. Only a generation ago wild tigers roamed these Hills, today the towns on the edges steadily encroach on the habitat once reserved for these magnificent animals and the seekers brave enough to live alongside them. In the Hills once quiet forest paths have been paved and tractors blare as workers illegally mine rocks that will be crushed and made into cement. The historic Dat Ma Ku Kan Pond has been reduced to a puddle by a strangely dry year. On the peaks you can hear the speakers of the nearby towns blasting pop tunes. Myanmar is surrounded by nations eager to plunder it. It’s filled with people enthralled by the promises of material wealth and its climate, like that of the rest of the world, is becoming strangely unpredictable. It’s these forces that will radically reshape the monasteries and transform the character of the nation and not a few earnest seekers. It’s these changes that also lend an urgency to the completion of Shwe Lan and to the explorations it will engender.

I leave on a direct Air Asia flight from Mandalay to Bangkok, one of many such new connections that are facilitating Myanmar’s rapid transformation into just another cog in an increasingly monolithic global capitalist culture. The plush red and black pleather seats contrast sharply with the brown earthy hews of the Myanmar landscape fading beneath me. The tight-fitting uniforms, fake smiles, and menus where everything is for sale likewise contrast sharply with the modesty, authenticity, and generosity fading beneath me. As I sink back into the seat I begin to reflect that perhaps Myanmar doesn’t fade from you quite so quick as that. Maybe its got more of a sticky hard to rinse off quality.

I went to Myanmar hungry for a certain almost violent approach to practice, but in experiencing such practice delivered in impeccable form I began to navigate towards something else. Of course there can be enormous value in hardcore practice environments, but the dharma is not one size fits all and even an individual will need different things as he or she evolves over time. Myanmar seemed to effortlessly accommodate, perhaps even instigate, my own shifting orientation and turned out to be more diverse, gentle, and nuanced then I’d ever imagined. It swept me along in its current, delivering teachings on its own time and its own terms.

Like a pebble emerging from a river I feel a little smoother and softer around the edges. I fear that upon returning home I’ll effortlessly regain all my old prickly hardness, but this is far from fated. Despite what the dominant culture may encourage, culture is not a one-way street. Individuals create culture just as culture shapes individuals. At one point the dharma was new to Myanmar, carried slowly by pilgrims, seekers, and wise men from the Indian subcontinent. I’ll be taking home a burgeoning understanding of how these initial seeds of dharma can root and flower and grow into something of tremendous scale and multifaceted value. Tempering this awesome possibility, I’ve also seen how even mighty trees can be threatened by storms and disease. And alongside these grandiose conceptions of how radical large-scale social transformation emerges and declines, I’ll carry something on a much more intimate, and visceral level, a quiet twang in my chest reminding me of the deep worth and infectious quality of human kindness.

Hopefully the majesty, the grandeur, the mystery, the improbable scale of it all can be a reminder that the world still holds pockets of wonder and goodness. As we consider the people who make all this wonder possible, as we reflect on the relentless drive of Joah McGee, the welcoming embrace of Sayadaw U Asabha, the patient persistent contributions of peasants offering their daily spoonful of rice, and the monks and yogis battling to transform their minds we can settle back in these reminders of uprightness and benevolence, finding solace and warmth in their glow. We can also use these reminders as an edge to inspire us to dig deeper in summoning our own relentless drive, in conjuring our own warm embrace, in finding an arena for our own consistent contribution, and in waging our own inner battle."

To read Shwe Lan Ga Lay Part 1, go here.

About the author: Miles Bukiet has followed a consuming passion for yoga, bodywork, and meditation to India, Malaysia, China, Myanmar, Laos, and Thailand.

Miles Bukiet

Art from Zwe Yan Naing: Shwedagon Pagoda

The original art from Zwe Yan Naing can be seen here.

An Inspiring Memory

A European meditator who was on the 2014 Winter Pariyatti pilgrimage has recently shared how she remembers the more inspiring memories of this trip. She has made a collage of four important photos from this trip: starting from the upper left and going clockwise, one sees a Shinpyu (or novitiation) ceremony taking place at Shwedagon Pagoda, where a young boy takes on the monks' robes. Next is a photo from Ingyinbin showing Bhante Agga from the Netherlands along with the newly ordained Russell Quinn from New Zealand. Third shows the long line of brown-clad pilgrims making their way to Anauk Monastery in Pyaw Bwe Gyi, where Saya Thet Gyi taught during the last two years of his life. And finally is a wonderful, smiling photo of the Shwekyin Sayadaw and Dr. Khin Maung Aye, who delivered a Dhamma talk to the group.

For those wishing to make such memories of their own, a pilgrimage will take place on January 23, 2015, and spaces are still left... see Muditā Works for more information.

The Maha Bodawin Museum

Near Shwedagon Pagoda, meditators may wish to visit the Maha Bodawin Museum, which is underneath the Western Entrance. Not to be missed outside the museum are the original teak posts that King Tharrawaddy used to make the Southern Stairway in the mid 19th century. One section is funded by the Goenka family, and overall this museum teaches visitors about the Buddha’s life and the Dhamma that he imparted, as well as more recent Burmese Buddhist history. The museum features a combination of paintings, murals, statues, dioramas, and other artistic and educational exhibits. 

This section on Bodhgaya was funded by the Goenka Family

One of the many paintings to be found at the museum

A Shwedagon Replica in the Sagaing Hills

On the Pya Phone Ridge in the Sagaing Hills, one is treated to a spectacular view of the Ayeyarwaddy River to one side, and the many stupas and pagodas of the Sagaing Hills to the other. It is here where a great project is currently underway to build an exact replica of the wondrous Shwedagon Pagoda in Yangon.

How Burmese Spend a Saturday Night

In the area known as the "Land Of Victory" at Shwedagon Pagoda (both where kings would come to receive blessing during stressful periods and where large groups mediate together), a slideshow is set up of the sacred sites relating to Buddha's life in India and Nepal. Several hundred faithful gathered to hear the description of sites as they were displayed on a large screen placed towards the North Gate. While various forms of entertainment may be predominant in other countries, here families came to learn more about the special sites where many, due to a lack of funds, may never get to see personally in their own lifetime.

(Click the photo to see a larger size)
Several hundred Burmese gather to watch a slideshow about the holy sites in India related to the Buddha's life

An Italian-Burmese Friendship Sign

"Visitors have noticed a great change to the 2500 year old Shwedagon Pagoda. Entirely from his own volition, Italian Speaking Tour Guide Ko Min Min Myat Thin has donated a helpful sign that now greets visitors at all four entrances to the great pagoda. In addition to the bilingual English and Burmese being written and translated by the Italian Speaking Tour Guide Ko Min Min Myat Thin, he also arranged for the particular photos, design, and the entire stand that allows the appartus to free-stand as it does easily, with little work needed from other pagoda caretakers.

The helpful sign begins by pointing out four of the things that foreign visitors (or any other visitor) should not do upon entering the pagoda, particularly pertaining to their style of dress. The upper most left square advises that one should not wear any kinds of socks, stockings, foot coverings, foot socks or other foot accoutrements. Going clockwise, the next picture, just to the right, clearly shows a lower garment that unacceptably goes only until the mid-thigh region, and one may not wear any mini-skirt, skirt, shorts, pants, or towels that only go this far. Next we come to the lower right, which helpfully displays a blouse that is too revealing, too short, out of style, and disproportionate to the wearer's actual body size frame. Finally, the final square, now moving to the lower left, shows two pairs of white and black sneakers, possibly cross-trainers or heavy walking shoes; although in this case one must keep in mind that any and all footwear of any kind are not allowed, and this also includes socks, stockings, foot coverings, foot socks or other foot accoutrements. 

The sign is also helpful in that it has English as well as Burmese language to remind the visitor. The upper most square reads "No Socks", then there is "No Short Pants," followed by "No Spaghetti Blouse," and finally "No Shoes."

As most visitors who come have some basic understanding in the English language, further translations into other languages (such as Hindi, Farsi, Urdu, Arabic, etc.) were not deemed needed.

Finally, the Italian Speaking Tour Guide Ko Min Min Myat Thin kindly included his own name as the donor of these signs. It reads: "Donated by Ko Min Min Myat Thin [first line]; Italian Speaking Tour Guide [second line]." It is likely that the Tour Guide Ko Min Min Myat works primarily with Italian-speaking tourists from various parts of Italy, who come to Myanmar centrally on vacation."

-- the following post was contributed by Ko Kyaw Kyaw

This is the sign in question that was produced by the Italian Speaking Tour Guide Ko Min Min Myat Thin. The helpful sign begins by pointing out four of the things that foreign visitors (or any other visitor) should not do upon entering the pagoda, particularly pertaining to their style of dress. As most visitors who come have some basic understanding in the English language, further translations into other languages (such as Hindi, Farsi, Urdu, Arabic, etc.) were not deemed needed.

Burma Yatra #2, Day 1

The following excerpt was written by an American yogi about the pilgrimage in Burma. The first pilgrimage has ended, and the second one has just begun! (To see and compare Day #2 of the first yatra, see here, and to another account of the IMC and Saya Thet Gyi visits, see here) You can also consider joining a later pilgrimage in Burma yourself.

Shwedagon Pagoda as seen from the pilgrims' Yuzana Hotel

"I wasn't planning on writing unless inspiration struck. Based on how things unfolded today, it may strike more often than not...

Pardon any inaccuracies...

There's a corner of Shwedagon where depending on which tile you step on, the diamond on top of the main pagoda shimmers a different color. At the right place, at the right time, the unexpected materializes... So it was with day one of the yatra.

The morning found us barefoot walking from the motorcoach into Shwedagon. For those of us unaccustomed to walking on gravel (stained with local flavors, nonetheless), it was a great opportunity to practice with changing unpleasant sensations. It was especially sweet to remember that this is how (as Harold Fielding put it) the 'Knower of Great Peace' walked, and all the line of monastics after him...

After a brief tour of Shwedagon, we headed to IMC. There was a course ongoing, but Snow and Joah had gotten permission for us to do a one hour group sit on the platform outside the pagoda cells. After a strong sit, Sayagi U Ba Khin's (normally locked) cell was unexpectedly opened for viewing. We each sat briefly in the outer portion of the cell, just long enough to feel the coolness emanating from within and to pay respects.

The view of the inner pagoda area where Sayagyi U Ba Khin would sit, and where Webu Sayadaw meditated when he visited IMC, was specially and unexpectedly opened for pilgrims

A sample of the books by and about U Ba Khin that are available in the IMC bookstore

There was tremendous gratitude welling up from this visit - how special to be able to sit where it all (more recently) began. The radiating out of dhamma from this place has rippled through many lives across the world. May it continue for generations to come.

The powerful impression of the Shwedagon at night

And then... another unexpected surprise was in store - Sayagi U Ba Khin's son and his wife would be joining us for lunch... We were able to hear some stories from him, including how he took his first course. He recently wrote a book on his father - currently only in Burmese, but English translation is underway.

The post lunch afternoon flowed toward more mundane matters - a quick trip to Bogyoke market to pick up necessary items and/or gifts. And the evening wraped up with a group sit at Shwedagon. As it was Saturday night, the ring of candles at the base were amply lit. Dancing flames flickering in the breeze accompanied a walk through Shwedagon's Saturday crowds.

And so ends a day of unexpected surprises - what a start to a grand adventure!"

See here for Day 2 at Saya Thet Gyi's!

Scenes from Shwedagon Pagoda

"To the traveller approaching from the sea the pagoda is a vision of dazzling brilliancy and is visible long before the low-lying shores and distant mountains have evolved themselves from the waste of waters. If the approach is in the early morning when the sun has not yet risen his eyes will gaze into a misty void, grey and colourless, but with the first rays of approaching light a vision as of something celestial will be sharply silhouetted against the darkness, something which has fallen from the walls of heaven, and now floats a golden glory for the delight and astonishment of man. As the light increases this brilliancy becomes almost too dazzling for mortals to gaze upon. Finally the mists grow thinner and thinner, and then sail away, leaving the structure resting upon a mound of delicate green that rolls downward and away across the valley where stands the city of Rangoon, and where the Irrawaddy forces its way to the ocean." M.M. Shoemaker, Quaint Corners Of Ancient Empires (1899)

Burma Final Days

The pilgrims pose with the famous Sitagu Sayadaw

One can read about the previous days in the Sagaing Hills and Mingun here. Kory Goldberg continues to record in his personal journal about the current pilgrimage now underway in Burma. You can also consider joining a later pilgrimage in Burma yourself.

"We were supposed to have an early start on the road back to Yangon, but like always something came up. Sitagu Sayadaw, the most influential monk in Burma, returned to the Academy and wanted to meet our group. Sitagu Sayadaw said that he was like a brother to Goenkaji, so it was natural that he wanted to meet with his foreign “nieces” and “nephews.” This famous monk is famous not only for creating and supporting great centres of monastic learning, but has been a key figure in establishing a network of social projects involving healthcare, literacy, vocational training, access to potable water and disaster relief. Our meeting with the warm, yet tired celebrity was brief, but the rarity of such an encounter was worth the delay. 

In the Department of Meditation Hall at Sitagu Academy, Sayadaw U Nyanissara discusses dhamma with pilgrims

Day 19 in Yangon was really our last day together as a group as some were flying out that evening, many others first thing the next morning. After such a long bus ride the previous day, and from the intensity of the entire journey, many of us were feeling quite exhausted. Nevertheless, almost everyone joined the only activity planned that morning—a visit to the Kaba Aye Pagoda and a chance to meditate in the presence of the relics belonging to the Buddha, Sariputta and Mogallana. While some monasteries claim to possess such holy relics, these are genuine since they came directly from the Sanchi Stupa in India. The unique vibration, commented by many of us, in the room where they are housed also testifies somewhat to their authenticity, although I am certainly aware that the energy of the atmosphere does not constitute solid evidence. 

Kaba Aye Pagoda trustees hold the sacred relics above Kory Goldberg whilst chanting

A close-up of all three relics

That day we had a wonderful Nepalese lunch with Sayagyi U Ba Khin’s son, daughter-in-law, and grand-daughter. A very happy family they are, signifying what happens when a close-knit group of people live in wise and loving attention. They answered our numerous questions, trying their best to explain what it was like to be related to one of the greatest masters of our time. An enormous pressure, yet they seemed to handle it well. As we left each other they invited us to their home for tea, contemplation and sharing more stories together. Burma’s pace of life (in general) and generosity exemplified in the smallest details is unsurpassable. If there is one thing I hope to bring home with me is to become intimate with the characteristically Burmese joy of giving.

Our pilgrimage concluded with an evening loving-kindness meditation and circumambulation of the Shwedagon Pagoda, followed by a lovely farewell dinner. Snow, once again demonstrating her innate munificence, shared kind words to the group and offered five Teak Buddha statues to pilgrims whose names were picked out of a bowl. We then went around the table, sharing our insights and gratitude for the organizers, other participants and all our hosts. It was a delightful moment and a wonderful way to close the first—of many—Pariyatti pilgrimages."

The reader's journey need not end here! To read about the second pilgrimage that would start just days after this ended, see here.

A view of the illustrious Shwedagon from the rooms of the pilgrims.

A Dhamma Yatra in Burma

Foreign yogis sit in meditation at Nga Htat Gyi Pagoda as a monk chants through a loudspeaker, seated before them

Journal entry by Kory Goldberg after the second day of a Dhamma Yatra in Burma.... (to see how the next yatra turned out on this same day, see here!) You can also consider joining a later pilgrimage in Burma yourself.

The view of Shwedagon from the pilgrims' hotel

"What a privileged life we live! Morning stretching with spectacular dawn views of Shwedagon followed by a traditional Burmese breakfast of stirfried veggies and a fruit platter. i was not alone in the joy that I felt as was clear on the faces of all my companion pilgrims in the Golden Land. our first stop was Dhamma Joti to join the local community for a group sitting in the centre's fabulously charged pagoda. Sharing a cell with three of my companions, I observed the piti arising from a sense of well-being, security and trans-national community that dominated this mind-matter structure. After the session, our group of 23 from seven different countries shared metta with the local yogis, and I was pleasantly surprised to briefly rekindle a connection I had made with a yogi from Pyaw Bwe Gyi eleven years back.

From the Light of Dhamma our group continued onwards to the country's largest and most beautiful reclining Buddha statue at Chotagyi. On the way Snow and Joah showed us how to wear the Burmese pilgrimage uniform composed of a Brown longyi, white shirt, and brown sash. Although I understood intellectually the value of everyone in the group wearing the same thing as a marker of breaking down distinction and creating a group bond, for some reason I didn't really feel comfortable with the standardized attire, especially the sash. nevertheless, I wore the sash at Chotagyi, as did everyone else, and thought to myself this is a great ego destroying practice. As soon as we got off the bus I noticed how everyone's eyes turned on us. While the handful of foreign tourists at the site looked at us as if we were more alien than the culture that they were visiting, the Burmese were all smiles, feeling proud that a group of foreign yogis came to their country to practice the Dhamma and wear specialized local attire to boot. Listening to the monks chant at the temple and feeling the metta coming our way while we meditated and toured the site was precious. Our next stop at Natagyi Pagoda with jewel laden Buddha image wearing royal regalia was equally interesting, providing us with food for thought about the nature of appearance and the ease of projecting erroneous conceptions onto a transient, disatisfying, and impersonal reality. Whatever opinions we form about the unknowable only cause further confusion and suffering.



Next we went to IMC where Goenkaji first learned vipassana. Although we were unable to enter the meditation hall or pagoda because a course was in progress, we were permitted to meditate on a small pavillion just ouside the pagoda. Despite the sounds of nearby construction work and honking cars in the distance, the tranquility in the atmosphere was tangible. Upon opening my eyes after the session and seeing the doors of the pagoda I visualized Sayagyi standing there (as In the photo that many of us have at home). i felt waves of gratitude for what has taken place at this powerfully charged space and felt so fortunate to have the opportunity to experience it first hand. We then continued the journey to the monastery of the recently deceased arahant Pakoku Sayadaw to meditate with and examine his corporeal relics, and also have all of our questions answered about this phenomena of relics (and their multiplication) by two of his disciples-one a radiant bhikkhu and the other a knowledgable and inspiring lay yogini who spoke perfect English. Another rare and fortunate moment in all of our lives.

The Pakkoku relics on display in Yangon

To top off this wonderful late morning, we feasted at a Chinese Buddhist Temple. Never have any of us had so much delicious vegetarian food presented to us. One dish after another kept arriving at the table, each looking and tasting more delectable than the last. Buddhist vegetarianism is a concept and practice that all of the yogis in our group embrace with open arms.

From the lofty spiritual realms we visited all morning, we then descended into the mundane, physical realm of Bogyoke Market. Most of us shopped for ourselves and for our loved ones back home. An exciting moment, but also a little draining as our attention was challenged. Fortunately, our next and final stop was Shwedagon Pagoda. Although we did not have time for a formal sitting practice, simply walking around the sacred monument containing eight of the Buddha's hair relics recharged our batteries. Snow guided us through various nooks and crannies, pointing out spots that are so evident but so easy to miss amongst the plethora of monuments, statues, paintings, ATM machines, money changers, monks, nuns, yogis, devotees, tourists, security guards and other beings whose presence contributes to the site's power and meaning. Finally, before heading back to the hotel, we stopped in for dinner at a restaurant that had already prepared us a wonderful Burmese vegetarian meal even though we weren't really hungry, allowing us to attune to Burmese sensitivity by practising the avoidance of anar. A great first day to a great first yatra."

To read about Day 2 at Saya Thet Gyi sites, click here!

Pilgrims begin their yatra with a group meditation sitting at Shwedagon Pagoda

Footwear Diplomacy

Original artwork sketched by one of Shwe Lan's artist contributors shows a typical pair of monk's sandals 

In this excerpt from the book, we pick up an entry from our "Monastic Life" chapter. Following is a short excerpt from the section on proper pagoda protocol:
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The tense relationship between England and Burma in the 19th century and their contrasting cultural perspectives was perhaps nowhere better displayed than through their opposing attitudes towards footwear. While the Burmese demanded bare feet on all religious sites, the British insisted that the public removal of one’s shoes was a degrading, humiliating, and servile practice. It was further exacerbated by the intricate boots that British officers wore at the time, which were time-consuming to unfasten, as well as by the fact that no similar custom was anywhere near present in Victorian society at the time. Long diplomatic meetings attempted to clearly designate appropriate shoe-wearing and non-shoe-wearing zones, which eventually proved to be so ineffective that “meeting houses” were actually built in a kind of no-man’s land. On these sites, the British could comfortably keep their shoes on while the Burmese could still feel were within their premises. When Yangon fell in one of their Anglo-Burmese wars and the British gained control of the city, the victorious British troops paraded around Shwedagon. At this time, one soldier recorded in his diary his immense joy and pride at finally being able to approach the religious monument while clad in boots. This sensitivity to footwear goes back some time, as there is a story of King Narathiapate executing an entire Mongol diplomatic mission when they didn't remove their shoes for a royal audience. And it was taken up by the Young Men’s Buddhist Association in 1916, when they protested British authorities who continued to wear boots on the upper platforms of Shwedagon.

Today, of course, bare feet are the requirement for all nationalities, and one that the current world power has no difficulty in following— as evidenced by the photos from the 2011 and 2012 visits to Shwedagon Pagoda by US Secretary of State Hilary Clinton and President Barack Obama, respectively. Unfortunately Jackie Chan did not follow suit, and a recent photo of him at Shwedagon in sneakers gathered immediate criticism from Burmese voices across the web.

Old Picture of Shwedagon Pagoda in Rangoon, Burma

Old Picture of Shwedagon Pagoda in Rangoon, Burma