Showing posts with label anar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anar. Show all posts

Thursday, 1 June 2017

"Nothing But Nothing Should Be Taken at Face Value.”


In the same way that the notion of "face" can blend into the cultural trait of indirect communication, both of those together blend into the Burmese cultural concept of anar, which is a broader notion still. In fact, the characteristics of exactly what makes and goes into anar may be untranslatable outside of Burmese culture, where it is viewed as something of a national trait. Although anar can take years of living in Burmese society to fully understand, it is a very important quality for foreign yogis to try to at least begin to be cognizant of, since it will color nearly all interactions while in Myanmar in some way.

At its core, anar is a feeling of not wanting to impose on, or cause a strain in others, avoiding embarrassing them in any way, perhaps defined broadly as a constant attention to another’s state of mind. Chit San Win attempted to describe it in Myanmar Family, writing that anar means to feel shame in “expos[ing] other’s wrongdoings, willing to give things whenever asked for by others, acceding to someone’s request, and reluctant to go against someone.” Ma Thanegi explains it this way: “Feeling anar deh means feeling reluctant to take advantage of, to offend or to upset the other person…which means not saying no to an impossible request, or telling you what they think you want to hear because doing otherwise would just be too rude. In the same way they would agree with you even if they don't.” She then further emphasizes the role of indirect communication in anar by adding, “The locals have been used to this issue practically since birth, so they have learned to read the signs about the true state of things through facial expression, tone of voice, body language, etc., of each other. Due to this very strong culture trait, nothing but nothing should be taken at face value.”

Anar is a major component of the cultural glue that governs the parameters of general, social interactions, used between people where there is some degree of social distance (that is, age, rank, etc). But it is not as much of a feature of genuine, personal relationships, when people truly know each other well, such as between and among family members and close friends. 

Ma Thanegi remarks, “With close friends or school mates or cousins, I feel no anar because it sort of implies I am treating them like strangers and keeping them at a distance, which makes them mad. Among close friends—and we Burmese tend to have lots of them—a quick ‘thanks’ is okay.” She also notes that in the West, it’s less common to have such a large circle of what-are-considered close friends. Moreover, Burmese friendships are so strong that, in her words, “we can swear at each other, borrow their clothes, disturb them at midnight, ask favors any time of day or night, drop in at their homes any time or at their work place, drag them off from work to have tea, etc. At government offices we drag off friends working there to go with us to teashops or book browsing or even movies etc.” Although, new friends who one meets may feel anar until they know one well enough to sense what will or will not offend.

Many Burmese extend this concept of anar and modesty to meditation attainments as well. The possible powers some monks purportedly attain are treated respectfully but ambiguously in much of the literature, as well as in the ways people refer to them. Of course, it goes without saying that openly referring to one’s own progress on the path would tend to negate one’s words! U Mya Thaung relates an anecdote recorded in the Shwegyin Nikaya Sasana that the famous, 19th century forest monk, Thilon Sayadaw, was suspected of having developed abhiññā, or supernatural powers. The document neither admits nor denies this fact, noting, “The wise tend to keep things to themselves.” Therefore, it is considered very bad form to praise oneself in either the worldly or spiritual sphere.

Saturday, 10 January 2015

Photographing Novices: A Contrast of Values


The Huffington Post recently published a collection of photos of novices in Myanmar by Stephen Wallace, and which can be found here. Just as a previous post discussed the dynamic between Western and Burmese attitudes in regards to the imprisonment of Mr. Philip Blackwell, this photo collection raises similar concerns. To most Western travelers, the site of young, playful monks is something that brings a smile to one's eye and the camera immediately to one's face, as these young novices seem to represent an irresistible mix of the noble and the playful, the mature and the innocent, the wise and the young. However, many photographers ultimately end up taking pictures that would be considered highly inappropriate to Burmese, and what is more, then sharing and even selling these prints to other like-minded Westerners. This is certainly true of those photos in Mr. Wallace's collection, where novices are seen half-clothed and playing in some of the country's sacred temples. 

Again we see cultural attitudes come to play. The Western attitude here may be, "I am just taking photographs of what's really happening before me. What am I supposed to do, not take the photos? If novices are not supposed to be behaving this way, then their teachers should teach them how to behave, not blame me for taking the photos."

The Burmese attitude, however, may be one of anar, an essentially untranslatable word that means to not behave in a way that would disturb or disrupt other people. One may feel anar...

· when being offered the last piece of mango slice.
· when one has been helped by a friend who had to exert some effort on one’s behalf.
· by having one’s meal suddenly paid for by a friend.
· by being invited somewhere and not being able to come.

Similar to ignoring the demands of “face” in other cultures, it is said in Myanmar that one who behaves without this fear of anar is not acting in the “proper” way, since it shows a disregard for others in favor of one’s own wants or needs. As one local man explains, “When you ask us if we would like to join you for lunch or dinner, make sure you ask us twice or more because we will say no the first time, even though we’d love to because of our culture.”

In this way, simply because these scenes may be happening do not automatically give the foreigner license to photograph anything he wishes, let alone to then share or make a profit from his photographs. A similar observation was made by Australian journalist Peter Olszewski in Land of a Thousand Eyes, when he notes that the Burmese concept of modesty means that when a woman must breast-feed in public because she has no other place to do it, people automatically avert their eyes; and when neighbors talk about personal matters through thin walls, one simply decides not to listen. In this case, following the principles of anar, the culturally appropriate thing for people such as Mr. Wallace to do is simply to choose not to take photographs of such scenes. However, as one can see, Western cultural attitudes contrast with this.

Perhaps nowhere has this contrast between modern tourism and a search for exoticism, and the traditional Buddhist faith come more into contact than at Maha Gandayone Monastery in Amarapura. This was overseen by many years by one of Myanmar's great 20th century monks, Sayadaw U Janaka.

In addition to his many Burmese lay supporters, U Janaka also welcomed foreign visitors in the post World War II era. Initially this was a beneficial exchange. The Sayadaw remembered how “many foreigners came and talked with me. They looked around and said that they were quite pleased with everything they found here.” One Korean monk during this time was so moved that he commented: “This place is an ideal for monks and we hate to leave it. It is sad that we were not born here. We hope to mettā gain and hope to become this Venerable Monk’s disciple and pray that we reach nirvana together.”

Unfortunately, the monastery today has ended up on the tourist trail, with large tour buses showing up and treating it like a cross between a museum or a zoo, freely taking photos, walking around, with many of the foreign tourists unconcerned with dress or basic protocol. Monks report that nearly as many as one hundred visitors may come in a single day, and they usually do so just after 10 am in order to watch the monks take their meals. For many of the monks this ritual is part of their mindfulness training, but tourists strain to observe the exotic scene and record it with photography and video. There is even at least one package tour group that organizes visits here strictly for aspiring photographers.

Other monasteries may be threatened by similar issues in the future, and it’s worrisome to consider how this will affect their training, signs of which can already be seen in neighboring countries Thailand and Laos, where seeing an alms rounds is on the “to-do” list of most tourists. In some ways, the schizophrenia of the modern Western world’s relationship to traditional Burmese Buddhist sites and practices can be seen playing out at Maha Gandayon in real time. For example, in one past edition, Lonely Planet recommended that backpackers try to visit Maha Gandayone specifically during lunch to watch the monks eat; then, in a subsequent edition, they stood by their recommendation but advised against wanton picture taking; and in the present edition, they now call picture-taking at the monastery “worth avoiding.” In other words, while they may be commended for their growing awareness, they are now frowning on the very behavior they were hyping only a few short years ago!

One may wonder how the Maha Gandayone monks themselves regard such an increase in this frenetic activity. One response has been to plaster English signs throughout the grounds advising tourists on basic monastic discipline. They also have tried to restrict tourist access to just certain parts of the monastery, so the disruption can be contained. Towards this end, “No Entry!” signs hang throughout. Burmese tour guides are often implored to make certain that their foreign visitors are properly attired, but money talks loudly, and so this is not always adhered to.

The obvious question may be, why do the monks tolerate this? When asked, some senior monks admitted that they are not so fond of the noise, disruption, or occasional inappropriate behavior; however, as one monk commented, the Mingala Sutta teaches how even glimpsing the sight of a monk may give one faith in the Dhamma. He went on to say that “Buddhism is to share, and not to own. Foreigners may come for tourism but still find some happiness while here. The Buddha would also allow this, because the Sasana is open to all, it is like the moon that everyone sees.” He added that a foreign visitor may become more curious about the Buddha’s teachings, and in asking may learn something valuable. Such a sentiment is even found on the large English sign advising visitors on basic monastic etiquette, where Point #9 reads: We all the monks from this monastery thank for your visit and pray for your happiness and goodwill.