Chapter 5: The Monastic Life

Just after Ila waved good bye from the back of her taxi, nervousness, loneliness and fear kicked in. I was after all a twenty-six year old woman traveling alone in a foreign country where I hardly spoke the language and soon, I was going to be in the company of people I have never met before. The second part of my trip just began and seven days was a long time. Soon after, I hopped into a taxi myself and headed to the monastery. Oddly enough, I met this taxi driver for the second time in my trip and it felt somewhat comforting to see a familiar face in the sea of foreign faces and have him take me to Gurjudhara, Kathmandu. By now, I was an expert in negotiating taxi fares before the trip. That's an important skill to get around here and asking for the fare after a trip is a sure way to get one into trouble.

The monk who I was introduced to through a mutual acquaintance and with whom I have been in touch by email (though I am not entirely sure how much of what I typed was understood by this monk), was waiting for me at the gate. The monastery was built in the heart of a small Newari village in the outskirts of Kathmandu. The villagers seemed to have the basic facilities of water and electricity but the roads were still under construction at the time of my visit. The older generations looked and dressed in more traditional clothes, while the younger generations were dressed less conservatively and most of them seemed to work in the city doing 'modern' jobs in offices and shops.

After exchanging greetings, I was given a brief tour of the site. The monastery consisted of four separate buildings. One with the kitchen/ dining area with attached nuns' quarters, one partially completed building with a few guest rooms, other a shrine for devotees to carry out their rituals, and another farthest away was the monks' quarters. He explained to me that with the generous foreign funds they received, they were building a polyclinic with diagnostic equipment for the villagers. A hospital was no where close by and healthcare facilities in the village were very poor so a free polyclinic when completed and one which had dental and x-ray equipment would prove to be very useful for several villages in the area. The clinic was to be manned by volunteer doctors from the city.

I was introduced to the other inhabitants in the monastery - two nuns, two men and one elderly woman who helped out. There was yet another mostly bedridden elderly woman, who I was told was the relative of one of the nuns. Only the two nuns and the monk understood my English, that too, not perfectly. Communication with the rest of them was mostly in gestures and shy smiles. I was at first surprised to see monks and nuns living in the same monastery as this was unheard of in my country, where strict segregation was practiced. They cooked, dined and carried out religious services for the public together, much like a family. Even the monks and nuns looking after lay people, as in this case where they looked after a sick elderly woman and cooked for the others in the temple, was a huge contrast to me. During my stay, I was deeply embarrassed to have them cook and serve food for me, when my mind was conditioned to think otherwise. I had only known a tradition where lay people looked after needs of the monks and nuns, who were then free to follow their mental development, do their studies, practices and did the religious duties to the public that were expected of them. Here, they were more independent, managing nearly everything an ordinary lay person managed including finances and looking after their parents, siblings and relatives who lived close by in the same village. It is understandable that given the reality here, where the villagers were not within their means to feed the monks and nuns on a regular basis and where the monsoons and cold weather made it hard to get around in some periods of the year, they had to be self-sufficient.

Rules laid out in holy texts evolve and change when fused with the reality of existing cultural traditions in a given area. The success of a philosophy in a new geography also depends in it's flexibility to merge harmoniously with the culture while being able to uphold the core virtues that it teaches. This was a perfect example. In this close-knit Newari village as well as most parts of Nepal, the lines separating Buddhism and Hinduism have long been blurred by thousands of years of change, invasions and political causes and they now follow a mixture of both. Even the Buddhism followed here had the markings of both Tibetan and Theravada traditions. Everyone here celebrates the Hindu and Buddhist festivals alike. The influences are clearly seen in their art and architecture where statues of deities sit with Buddha statues. Religious customs involving both were seen in their festivals, funerals and other events in the village. The monk explained that they even carried out Buddhist rituals in festivals of Hindu origins. He might have noticed my initial attempt to try to draw a line and understand which parts were was Hinduism and which ones Buddhism and he said it was impossible to do that now.

The clergy play an important role in the society here. It is common for parents in poorer countries to give away a child from their large brood to the village temple for ordination as a monk when they can't afford to feed or educate them. In addition to being guaranteed food, lodging, safety, healthcare, moral guidance and a good education, all funded by the temple and benefactors, they are content to have their child follow a noble profession – one that is essential in undeveloped or developing areas. There are also those who voluntarily take up robes to fulfill a life of service to others, while closely following a spiritual path. Most monks get opportunities to go abroad and do their further studies and this is comparable to getting a scholarship with a bond that requires them to do social work and serve the public afterwards. With this system, they meet many friends and mentors who are also monks from different countries and they also meet many lay people during their experiences. With these connections, they are able to guide and help many other people and bring about change and development in areas of society that sometimes governments and NGOs don't reach otherwise. The system and religious order in place for Buddhist monks and their roles in society are more established than the ones for nuns. Roles of women in child bearing and looking after household duties, physical limitations and well as safety concerns might be the main reasons for this.

The monks and nuns at this temple were all educated in countries such as Sri Lanka, Taiwan and China and had returned to their village to take up their respective roles. They were quite learned, with skills in speaking multiple languages as well having exposure in different countries. During my short stay, I noticed villagers coming to the temple to see these monks and nuns with various intentions - to perform rituals, ask for advice and spiritual guidance or sometimes even ask for small favours. The villagers had a curious custom of giving small coins or small currency notes to the monks and nuns every time they saw them, even up to twice a day sometimes.

A cozy room with an attached bathroom 

It'll be hard to forget those freeeezing nights!

I was given a nice cozy room with an attached bathroom. In the past five days, I was not able to shower at all – I was mostly sick, out of the hotel and some of the rooms didn't have hot water. Also, I was afraid that a cold shower wound exacerbating my cough and the phlegm in my lungs and spoil the rest of my trip. Well, the feeling of living with unwashed hair all these days was beyond disgusting. Hot water was available and was powered by solar panels on the roof. So the first thing I did in my room was to take a nice, long shower. Damn, that felt like the best shower I ever had! I had loads of megabytes of data and an unstable internet connection on my phone, which allowed me to check my email (not that there was anything pressing), Skype with my parents and chat with friends on MSN Messenger. It was also during this time that I wrote my postcards to several friends. I love to write, and even more so in the old fashioned way of posting letters, cards and postcards. The practice is a little outdated now and overshadowed by more efficient electronic means of communication. Call me old fashioned, but nothing electronic can beat the personal touch of a handpicked and handwritten letter or a card and the surprise of receiving it by post! Despite having several layers of clothing, a blanket and two thick quilts, I suffered from the cold every night. I didn't know that two thick quilts can feel as cold as hugging a dead body when my body wasn't able to generate enough heat.

There was a sickly old woman, probably in her nineties living next door. Her spine was bent to form a right angle and although she spent most of her time in bed, I often heard her dragging herself and her chair a few yards out of the room to sit in the balcony and bask in the morning sun to keep warm. Every time she moved an arm or a leg, she shouted in pain. It was painful to watch. Often when I passed by her room and she was shouting, I would peep in. When she saw me, she desperately tried to ask for things, but it was impossible to understand her. Couple of times we had success using sign language and I managed to close her windows for her and bring her cup of water closer to her, but most times, I had to leave her there with nothing much I can do. She was fed and cleaned on time by one of the nuns, but the rest of the time, no one watched over her. A life like that - helpless, dirty, painful, sad, lonely – I wish I can avoid. I doubt she survived the winter that ensued.

The nuns checked on me regularly and saw to it that was I comfortable with hot water, snacks and books to read. They called me during meal times and I would make my way to the kitchen, to enjoy the extremely warm and delicious vegetarian food they cooked. Every meal was accompanied by a cup of warm fresh cow's milk. It tasted so fresh that it was tasty even without sugar. The food they ate was very simple, fresh and healthy. Breakfast was usually porridge, bread or chapatis. Lunch was usually the popular dhal bhaat – rice with lentil curry, mixed vegetable curry, greens, raw raddish, onions and pappads. Gosh, that was divine, cooked with goodness knows what combination of spices. Dinner was mostly light, either instant noodles or chapati with leftover curries from lunch. The monk explained that although one of the basic 'commandments' for Buddhist monks and nuns was abstaining from heavy food after noon (meaning no dinner), they had to be healthy enough to do more domestic activities than the average monk as well as have more energy to keep warm in cold temperatures and approaching winter. True enough, such rules were applicable to monks who didn't engage much in physical activity and spent more time in meditation and minimal food intake was recommended so that they didn't take more calories than what their lifestyle required.

The monk and nuns took turns to cook, with a larger responsibility shouldered by the nuns. This was still a patriarchal society. There was also an elderly lady who helped out in the kitchen and dined with us at mealtimes. We exchanged a lot of smiles and often sat together huddled near the electric heater but we were unable to converse at all. After a day of observing how things ran in the kitchen, I soon tried to make myself useful in the kitchen by helping to set up the table and forced them to let me help by cutting vegetables, cleaning and washing some of the dishes. They were reluctant at first but they must have sensed my despair at not feeling useful so they gave me small jobs. Washing the dishes, which I did voluntarily, in ice cold water was extremely excruciating when the fingers went blue and numb for awhile but doing other small jobs were enjoyable and felt gratifying. During meal times, we all sat in the same table and ate together, again uncommon for a clergy-layman relationship back home. It was a good time to ask questions and discuss traveling plans with them. They were good humoured and it was not too hard to make conversation. I arrived in Nepal with strong intent to stay true to myself and eat left-handed. But in this foreign place where culturally it was not acceptable to do so and armed with poor communication skills to do any complex explaining to my courteous hosts, I took the pains to eat with my right hand. It was hard to keep at it in the beginning and grasping food and eating took much longer. I had to be extra mindful of using my right hand to accept food from them because it was considered rude otherwise.

Overall this small community was a peaceful and well-functioning one. But it hit me that perhaps they spent too much time doing domestic activities and being caught up in worldly issues – the very things that are to be avoided when taking up the life of a monk or nun - that they had very little time for their own self-reflection, spiritual development or study. I suppose it is easier for me to say.

In the next few days, I would tour with them in different parts of Nepal as well as stay in the monastery on and off.