Time with Buddhist Nuns
I have been to a Vispassana retreat in Cambodia. For those not familiar, Vispassana is a Buddhist based style of mediation that involves a 10 day retreat of silence, mediation from 4.30 - 9pm and fasting for a third of each day. There are lots of strict rules and life is regimented by times for rest and meditation.
It is supposedly identical across the world and so the Cambodian centre is an "international centre" but hehehehe ....... it’s a poverty-stricken-developing-world version of the Vispassana centres others might be familiar with or seen photos of.
Was there really a course beginning at this outlying Buddhist temple?
· It was all quite unwelcoming as I arrived, with an older Khmer man demanding to know who I had given my name to, was it via email or by telephone. An unusual way to greet a guest but I tried my best to respond
· we moved onto him yelling at my motodop (hired motorbike taxi man who had taken me the 40 min bone jarring trip out to the retreat) for leaving the moto outside the gate and starting to carry my bag in for me. The older man angrily gestured for my motodop to ride through. When the motodop politely pointed out the incredibly large sign in our faces saying "DO NOT BRING MOTO PAST THIS POINT" I knew I was in for some odd moments
· my lovely motodop refused to leave me, until he was assured that I was staying. He was becoming so protective and clearly thought I crazy to stay in the face of this unwelcome welcome! But I got the older man to admit that yes there was a course starting that day and so I ignored his other demands. I paid my motodop assuring I would see him in 11 days safe and sound and wouldn't be sleeping in the rice paddy nearby.
· I was convinced it would all work out okay
· we then had a fascinating moment when the older man, angrily takes me into the large dining room nearby, while telling me he not understand much English and my politely pointing out that currently and for the past 20 minutes I had been talking in Khmer to the motodop and himself
· ahhhh it was going to be interesting ..... turned out he was the head dude in charge and it was all as organized as my welcome had been …….
Its all relative
· I was excited as I was eventually shown to my room. We had a cement shack with a roof and doors. there were 3 iron based camp beds with a 1/2 inch mattress on each bed
· AND there were closed cubicles for toilet and shower. I mean 3 cubicles had shower roses. Woohoo!!! No flush toilets but a sit-down western style toilet and just tip bucket of water in. A do-it-yourself flush system
· Now what I ignored as I settled in but my two New Zealand room mates immediately saw was so much more different. On that first afternoon silence had not begun and it was a mother and her two daughters who arrived soon after me, one daughter being in the room beside us. They were genial and not angry but more astounded. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!!! preceded each of these mumblings to each other;
- there is no ceiling, look at the open spaces up there, can rain come in?
- there are no window glass, gauze, shutters ....
- the loos just empty out right there! I mean right there! (I did look again and did then notice how healthy the trees seemed to be, right beside the toilet block)
- no laundry....
- eeeeekkkkkk, what's that ........ (I decided to tell them it seemed to be a small scorpion on her backpack .....) Ahhhhhhhh
- and best was they pointed out to me that we seemed not to have a power point in the room. I chose to point out that I remained unsure was there power at all on site.
But truly they were fabulous people and the best room mates I could have wanted. It just showed that I was excited cos I was not bathing at a hand-pump well in sarongs, with the nuns and so had not noticed the things they saw. I thought that I a small cubicle to be able to stand, alone, under cold water was complete luxury.
In comparison they had experienced New Zealand and Indian Vispassana centres which apparently have western motel style rooms with ensuite.
Observations
- Seating by status
We had about 50 Nuns, who all wear white sarongs, scarves and skirts, 4 westerner women students and about 10 Khmer women students. On the other side of the hall, lined up in a different configuration to us, were about 15 monks in the orange sarongs, 3 westerner men and about 5 Khmer men students. All are so heavily segregated into sections and the hierarchy, which is according to experience with Buddhism Vispassana. Everyone is allocated a blue cushion so there are lines and lines of cushions and every day one sat in the same space. Thus the head Monk is right near the head teacher and the head Nun is a little further away from the teacher, showing she is inferior to both the teacher and monk. And men all on left side of hall, women to the right.
In all this seating by status, I was 4th from the end of it all …. right near the doors. I was happy to accept my non-status status within all this ranking business
Incapable of a queue
1/3 of the Nuns clearly not from a regimented monastery and were very new to harsh discipline of Vispassana.
For example many of the Nuns were unable to grasp the concept of making a line to pick up dinner tray, cutlery and then get the food dished out. It was a sensible servery system of women standing behind pots of food and we held out our trays at the correct angle. Except these poor nuns wanted to get their tray and they go straight to the food people and which we would label as pushing into a queue. But it was fascinating to see these 20 odd women thinking it was normal.
Seriously they were unable to grasp the concept. The female manager (the men in their dining area had my unwelcome welcoming party as their manager) tried to how the women how a queue works.
Things I and many of us, take for granted.
Food
The Khmer food was great by usual standards in towns and villages but its again all relative. It was still over-cooked bedraggled leaves and stir fry cucumber style of food.
There is a moment when one wants to scream out “hey the wars are over and you are allowed to eat palatable food.” Sigh. That seems harsh but seriously the food has little joy.
But then again, the food at the retreat was of a superior quality and I could differentiate flavours in the hot meal. There were also two meals with an Indian influence with a satay style dipping sauce that was sensational. About 3 or 4 meals I really enjoyed, I did wonder was it just cos I was fasting for half a day and so any food would be good?!? But then I was typically brought back to reality the next day with less than palatable food.
I took lots of fruit and raw cashews with me, that I bought in town and openly had a piece of fruit after breakfast as I couldn’t eat the rice porridge for breakfast 10 days in a row. It’s a starch soup rice with nothing else. Yummy!!!! Not.
Friendliness
The serving women soon figured out I only wanted small scoop of the rice porridge in the morning but come lunch I had my two full scoops of rice and whatever was going. And always one of the women was slipping past me after everyone was served and beside my plate would appear another banana. The other western women after the retreat also reported similar acts of kindness – not patronizing, just acknowledging we were not clearing our plates every meal.
Clearing one’s plate no matter what – and size of a typical meal
In the west I know plenty of you really will eat all you are given. And if I was dining at your house, my dietary habits of eating smaller meals may accidentally offend.
The hot meal is at 11am and then at 5pm a snack is served and then the rice porridge is served at the following 6.30am meal.
Well the snacks were usually awesome – perfect midget size for me. The equivalent of a meal many times. Example, munching on cooling roasted sweet potato at 5pm after being up 11 hours already, was perfection. Just a third of a potato in its jacket, eaten without a plate, eaten in one’s hand. As I say, perfect sized meal for me.
But I am hoping that even those of you compelled to eat what is given to you, would have hesitated with one snack. All the fruit had been brilliant quality, until the 2nd last day.
We were served the small “finger” bananas. They skins were discoloured but I was not worried, they often look like that.
Took a mouthful and chewed.
And chewed.
Rested, with same mouthful. Then chewed some more. Sneaked looks at people around to see how others were contending with this thing I had thought was a banana. Couldn’t see many people eating at all.
Chewed some more. Gave up and swallowed the hard lump of something. Not to be awful but I’d guess its still in me trying to be digested.
Now I debated, do I look at whatever it is I just ate or not????? I looked. On inspection, I am thinking that I was trying to eat unripen banana that had gone off. It was hard white mess but the outside … hmmmm I shan't describe it too you all. This is all too much information.
I simply don’t have the value system of being able to eat unripen mouldy fruit. I delivered my fruit back to the servery area when the women had stepped away from the tray and I escaped outside. Glad I had those cashews to much on when I was starving about 8pm.
So I don’t know if the nuns ate those bananas. I would guess yes. They are disciplined to eat all offered to them and not to be fussy. It is only me probably that was fussy. The other westerners also gave up on the mouldy rubbery effect – we compared notes at the end of the retreat.
Gentleness in mundane tasks
Fun interactions with the Nuns came as we did our hand washing of clothes. There were about 5 large metal tubs that could be lifted easily and fit about 5 items in each. Perfect for washing every day one’s clothes. There was clothes detergent powder, one tap with hose near the toilets and about 3 scrubbing brushes.
And about 60 women all needing to wash.
Clothes were strung up in trees, on the railings around the toilet block and on two ropes strung out. So many white clothing items everywhere. Do the nuns argue over a particular scarf?
Yes! I saw a dispute over a scarf, as two Nuns were getting clothes already dried and they reached for the same huge long scarf. Another Nun eventually stepped in, silently placed the scarf back on the line, led both back to their rooms and I can assume made them check their belongings to see how many scarves in their belongings. Don’t know how it was resolved!
But back to gentleness.
There was a meditative silence at all times, yet the moving about in a cramped space was so lovely and so coordinated. Unable to queue for lunch and yet could wait for a basin, help each other fill basins, pass the scrubbing brush about (which they need to try to keep those whites, actually white!) and really interesting, when finishing one’s washing, there was no unsightly scrum as women might have dived onto the basin. Just one stepped forward to use it after you finished. It was like magic.
How inappropriate might it be, that I find myself thinking how sexy some of the women my age were, with their shaved heads? It must break so many Buddhist precepts for me to even be noticing the beauty of the many women I was surrounded by! Back to hand-washing my clothes I would tell myself, as my eyes started to wonder ….
Meditation
The actual meditation experience is deeply personal and much more difficult to write about. Suffice to say, I had amazing moments that took me to an advanced level, exactly as I wished. If people want to ask about hovering as vibrations with no structure, after leaving one’s body, as I was achieving from Day 7, most welcome. But will skip the details for now.
Also plenty of online info if people curious about the technique taught
So the days become a lovely but exhausting cycle of gongs ringing across the air and we all moved slightly from meditation hall, bathing, food and rest. The rudimentary camp like nature of the monastery meant no nice walking areas, no outdoor seating and so it was a ‘confined to barracks’ feeling at rest times.
Khmer cultural values – I would call it cruelty but what is it here in Cambodia?
Older women, who in the west would be considered no longer coherent and fully functioning (mindful that my darling Nan and Pop, rightfully will virtually nudge me if I make any assumptions here about age!) were being made to meditate 14 hours each day. These were a few disoriented women who no longer could see, hear or move freely. I am not being ageist but making a comment about women who appeared quite ill. And yet their sister Nuns enforced them to sit on a small cushion in a huge hall.
A truly awful moment was when I was in deep meditation and yet heard a distinct "klunk!” and then whimper. Breaking my own discipline and opening my eyes I saw the inevitable; a woman on the floor learning on her forehead, but then being propped back up and chastised.
Finally she fell so soundly asleep (must have gently fallen over, avoiding that “klunk” and so no-one knew she was asleep for a while) that she couldn’t be woken and was carried to bed.
I call that cruelty to someone who does not now have any means to protest her treatment. And yet this is a loving compassionate act, in Khmer eyes, of giving Vispassana training to everyone.
So many contradictions in this country.
Leaving
About 10 Nuns and 2 of the male students left on Day 3 or 4. It was after the heavy focus on trying to impose order on the feeding frenzy and it was after the women being carried to bed. I suspect that one group did think, like myself, that the enforcing of the older infirm to stay seated for 14 hours was wrong and so left.
But of course I might also be projecting my own values onto it all. Possibly they left for very different reasons.
Upside down Mouse ears
Did you know that rats and mice really do have perfectly round ears that sort of pinch together at one point? And they can twitch separately. Never had them as pets so not really inspected them closely.
At the afternoon break, when laying on my back staring up at the ceiling, I realized a rat or mouse was also having a siesta. Sitting on a rail all I could see from my angle was an upside down mouse; paws first, then snoot, then eyes and whiskers and finally the ears. Cute little round grey ears. That twitched as he or she day dreamed away.
Saw my upside down mouse from the perspective of my back on about 4 days I think.
Which is a great way to say that’s how slow life moved for 10 days – a mouse/rat becomes a constant rather than a novelty!!