Video Chat & Class Caricatures

I’d like to share a couple of fun things we got to do during our last few days teaching novices in Chiang Mai.

First, we were able to organize a video chat at the school between about seven novices and two 8-year-olds in the United States. The parents of the fraternal twins agreed to let their kids stay up late in order to meet the novices. During the video chat, which lasted about 20 minutes, the kids introduced themselves and gave their ages. Some of the novices asked questions of the American kids, such as whether they like Thai food, and the American kids got to learn a bit about their Thai counterparts. A very enjoyable experience!

And second, with our class at Wat Wang Tan we took turns drawing caricatures of one another while reviewing vocabulary for parts of the head and upper body. Deann and I were particularly delighted when one of the novices accepted the task of drawing both of us! Afterward, we posed for a group photo with our caricatures.

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Temple Dogs: Reflections of the Human Condition

Ah, temple dogs—those fine exhibitors of impermanence, decay and death.

It’s an interesting thing spending a lot of time—or any, for that matter—around temples in Thailand. Semi-wild dogs are seemingly everywhere. Exhibiting a curious unpredictability, they tend to be friendly toward humans but with an undeniable scruffiness that keeps folks like me on my toes. Indeed, one of the vaccinations recommended to—uh, perhaps everyone here—is rabies. It’s good practice, I’m told, to always carry an umbrella to ward off a potential bite from one of these weird little canines.

But in practice I see something a little different. Nearly all of the temple dogs we’ve encountered seem kind and gentle toward people: they want to play when the energy around the school grounds is up; they let the novices and others straddle them and play with their legs, scratch and rub them—whatever. The dogs’ sweetest side displays when they gently nibble on each others’ necks to ease the discomfort of fleas and other pests attacking those hard-to-reach areas.

But then that darker side declares itself when in the midst of, say, teaching some novices you hear a horrible dog-scream, look, and realize that one dog has just bitten another dog for no apparent reason. Or you witness near-daily fights over the plentiful uneaten food scraps offered to them by the monastics after lunch—nasty, teeth-bearing episodes broken up by a novice wielding a bamboo pole, nudging them gently but insistently to knock it off.

For the most part, though, there’s merely their quiet, if constant, scrappy presence. Never begging but almost always lingering around the food scrap buckets and young novice monks—the latter so full of energy and youthfulness.

Which is the point at which a teaching really offers itself:

At Doi Saket Phadungsasana School, where we’ve been teaching since mid-September, the contrast between youthful vigor and decrepitude is glaring. Most of the temple dogs would not be allowed in an American home—they’re mangy and gross, with bad skin, open sores, missing eyes, ribs showing, legs that don’t work, unpredictable behavior, and a seemingly endless assortment of other random ailments. They are reflectors of the human condition—fine exhibitors of impermanence, decay and death. 

It’s not pretty. But it’s real, and it’s honest.

These temple dogs are great teachers. They remind us of what’s in store for us. And they remind us to be compassionate toward all pathetic and decaying beings who are simply showing us what we are becoming, moment by moment.

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Wat Phra That Lampang Luang (Lampang)

One of the most revered temples in Thailand, Wat Phra That Lampang Luang has fascinating history (including bullet holes from a 19th century gun battle that took place there), legends, beautiful architecture, and some mysteries surrounding it as well.

One of many centerpieces to the temple is a small but beautiful jade Buddha image—Phra Kaew Don Tao. According to legend, some 500 years (or more) ago a woman was offered a watermelon from a monk who visited her from heaven. When she opened it, she found a green gem stone inside. The gem stone then turned into the Phra Kaew Don Tao.

The temple’s large chedi is said to contain one of the Buddha’s hairs, which legend says he donated during a visit he made to the area some 2,500 years ago.

There are two spots in the monastery where one can witness jaw-dropping reflections of the chedi. The better viewpoint is inside a small chapel near the chedi. These improbable reflections are hard to describe but a definite not-to-be-missed. They have been characterized as miracles.

In addition to the Buddha’s hair, the temple houses relics from a number of other Buddhist monks. My understanding of what I’ve been told is that a devotee with strong faith who leaves a glass out while reflecting on a monk who has died may have a relic of that monk appear in the glass.

To add to the mysterious and fascinating aura of this temple, during my visit I was told of someone that day having had a sort of premonition of another person’s death. The premonition proved to be true later that very day.

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Lamphun, Lampang & Phrae

We recently had the good fortune to travel to Lamphun, Lampang, and Phrae with Ajahn Saen and three novices.

In Lamphun we first visited Wat Chamtewi and its nearly-1,200-year-old chedi. Next, we visited Wat Phra That Haripunchai, which has a beautiful golden stupa said to contain one of the Buddha’s hairs.

After lunch we traveled to Lampang, which featured the most interesting temple of the day—Wat Phra That Lampang Luang. One of the most revered temples in Thailand, there are many fascinating things to see and experience here—from 19th century bullet holes in the railing surrounding the chedi, a jade Buddha statue with an interesting legend attached to it, and two almost-mind-blowing, improbable reflections of the ancient chedi. The last must be seen to be fully appreciated. We visited a second, smaller temple in Lampang—this temple remarkably similar in design to the Santa Barbara Presidio, curiously enough—before moving on to Phrae.

Although he left Phrae when he was 13 years old, this small village of about 80 families is Ajahn Saen’s home. His parents are no longer alive but he has three older brothers and an older sister. We met two of these siblings on our visit. But first, we visited the local monastery and sat for awhile having tea with the abbot. A small, peaceful temple, it’s a charming spiritual home for the little community living in this cozy valley surrounded by low mountains and carpeted with rice fields.

After tea we walked a couple of hundred meters down the road to the house of one of Ajahn’s brothers, his brother’s wife, and their grandchild. We had a short, quiet visit then walked a bit further into the village. The streets narrowed considerably and we soon arrived at Ajahn’s sister’s house. Unbeknownst to us, Ajahn Saen had informed his sister that my wife and I are vegan and so we found a beautiful veggie meal set out for us. We were touched by and appreciative of the warm and thoughtful, generous welcome. Ajahn’s sister and her husband were very kind to us. After our dinner, she took the time to demonstrate how she makes cloth handbags in the Karen style at her home. We learned that it takes about five days to make a bag. Very impressive and beautiful.

As darkness came, we said our goodbyes, piled into a vehicle, and started the longish journey back to Doi Saket. Just outside of Phrae, though, we visited a lovely hot spring.

I have been touched by the hospitality, kindness, and generosity of virtually everyone I’ve spent time with in northern Thailand—and this was no exception.

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Teaching English in Thailand

As we near the tail end of two months spent volunteering as conversational English teachers in rural northern Thailand, it seems appropriate to record some of our reflections on the experience.

My wife and I come from a professional background in the American educational system. She was a middle school and high school math teacher for many years. She finished the last 10 years of her career as a high school administrator. I, on the other hand, was never a school teacher. Fortunately, I bring to the table the ability to converse easily on virtually any topic—a skill that was to prove useful in Thailand.

We were loosely assigned to teach at Doi Saket Phadungsasana School but found ourselves teaching mainly at Wat Wang Tan—a small temple a few miles away with some 16 novice monks living there.

A few words on the novices:

There are about 180 novices, representing perhaps 30 different temples, that attend the school. They come from a wide variety of backgrounds and parts of Thailand. Many, of course, come from Chiang Mai or Chiang Rai, while others may come from Surin Province (in the northeast of Thailand) or from one of the hill tribe villages near the Myanmar border.

The novices (which are about ages 10-17) vary in their command of the English language, with two variables perhaps playing significant roles:

  1. Their cultural and family heritage. It seemed to me that a novice with at least one parent coming from an urban or more tourism-focused area might speak better English;

  2. Their interest in learning the language. Some students, frankly, just don’t see any relevance in learning English. Their families have survived for generations without English—what makes now any different?

Indeed, one who is interested in learning to work on cars, sees value in learning the trade, and has a parent who works on cars, just might become pretty good at working on cars. Who knows, though.

At the school there’s an elementary level, which is largely separated from the rest of the students during the school day. The bulk of the students, though, are separated into six levels. Perhaps I should simply ask someone for the answer but it’s not yet clear to me why some of the level 1 students (which I assume to be entry-level students) are not only physically larger but sometimes speak better English than, say, a level 4 student. (For that matter, there’s a particular 10-year-old elementary student who may speak better English than 90% of the students in the school.) Overall, the level 6 students tend to have the strongest command of the English language.

My lack of understanding of this grade-level thing doesn’t matter much, for there’s a saying here that means little in the U.S. but makes practical sense here: 

สบายๆ (sa-baai~sa-baai)

It basically means, “relaxed, chilled out, just rolling with it.”

My wife and I (who had good and honest intentions certainly) had a few good lessons to learn here. We were accustomed to professional predictability, strict scholastic regulation, and schedules that were meant to be followed—careers in government can imprint that on a person. But the “just roll with it” approach of teaching in a Thai monastic environment taught us that some (many!) things can be more important than a tight, compulsive structure aimed at achieving what usually amounts to some sort of arbitrary and fluctuating scholastic statistic; for instance, the desire to provide services to the community and the emphasis on monasticism over traditional formal education.

After all, this is a monastic school, not a public or private one. These young novices wear orange robes and have “gone forth” as 10-precept monks-in-training.

So what about the teaching?

Well, it is quite often exhausting but almost always very rewarding work. My wife and I have spent a lot of time brainstorming ideas and preparing lesson plans but one never knows how they’ll play out—again, the ages and English abilities vary considerably from student to student, and even within classes. Fortunately, my ability to conversationally riff allowed us to quickly open doors, connect with the students, and hopefully, pave the way to better conversing.

A slow work week here typically consists of one 90-minute class three days a week at Wat Wang Tan, while a busy work week might include the aforementioned plus maybe five 50-minute classes four days a week at the school. That’s a fair bit of teaching. 

Despite a lot of time and effort, progress is slow. Our strongest students can hold a very basic introductory conversation. But it’s heartwarming to see little improvements here and there. It’s even more heartwarming to hear one say that he hopes to one day become an English teacher. And it’s yet more heartwarming when a student shares that he wants to keep in touch with you after you go back to your home country...because you have touched his heart, and because you teach him, and because he would someday like to come to America. Why? Well, we’ve asked that question to many of them.

Most common answer: They want to see snow.

This has been a beautiful experience. I would encourage anyone with good intentions and an open heart to consider donating their time in such a fashion.

Those are some of my reflections. If anyone has questions or would like to know more, just let me know.

(photo by our friend and co-volunteer Sue)

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Pian Village Monastery (สำนักสงฆ์บ้านเปียน)

Today we had the good fortune to accompany Ajahn Saen and his entourage on a visit to his hermitage in the jungle-covered mountains about 45 minutes north of Wat Nong Bua.

Built some 20 years ago, I was told that the former temple was finally abandoned about four years ago and fell into disrepair. Perhaps a year ago, some restoration work was done, and this past vassa, Ajahn Saen began using it as a quiet place of retreat.

Sitting on a rather isolated ~5 acre plot of land accessible by a steep 4WD drive, this tiny hermitage seems a delightful venue for a meditation retreat.

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Ajahn Sujato Visit

Ajahn Sujato recently spent a weekend leading a retreat in the Santa Barbara area. On the morning of his departure, Ajahn Khamjan and Ajahn Saran had an opportunity to talk for a bit and have lunch with the visiting forest monk.

Ajahn Sujato—an Australian student of famed monk Ajahn Brahm—has been a monk for some 25 years. He is a respected teacher and author.

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Wat Phra That Doi Suthep (Chiang Mai)

This famed temple, situated on a mountain slope high above the city of Chiang Mai, is one of the most sacred temples in all of Thailand, as it is said to house a part of one of the Buddha’s shoulder bones inside its gold chedi. For this, and perhaps many other reasons, the temple is said to get some 120,000 visitors a month. Although the temple’s origin is unclear, it may have been built in the late 14th Century CE.

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Papae

We returned yesterday from a short but exhilarating visit to Papae—Ajahn Khamjan’s home, a Lawa hill tribe village in the jungly mountains of rural far northwestern Thailand. Since our visit was quite brief, I’m qualified only to share a few facts but many impressions.

I’ll start with the few facts:

Papae is not terribly far from the Myanmar border. It is enveloped by lush jungle-covered mountains, and nestled in a quiet valley far from any town of considerable size. To get there, one leaves the busyness of Chiang Mai far behind. (It required 4+ hours of driving from our base in Doi Saket.) The village is home to some 100 families. It is small but has grown considerably since the conditions in the village began to improve around the time of the first of four visits by King Rama IX some decades ago.

Now, my impressions:

First off, the drive to get there is simply amazing. Fortunately, we were in good hands with Vii and Phra Ake as our guides. Depending on which approach one takes, you’re treated to generally excellent road conditions and far-reaching views as you climb into the mountains. Arriving at the village, we passed a number of homes and a school, crossed a bridge over a small creek filled with large fish begging for vegetable scraps tossed to them by the villagers (an ordinance of sorts prohibits anyone from intentionally killing fish along this stretch of the creek) then drove up a short, steep incline to Wat Papae. 

From what I understand, this small but remarkably beautiful monastery is largely devoid of monks for most of the year. Typically, a few monks will come for the annual 3-month Rains Retreat. As this was a week before the end of this year’s Retreat, we arrived when three monks were in temporary residence.

Our group was offered comfortable accommodations in one of the main buildings. After getting situated, we proceeded to tour and visit the monastery grounds, which had not only beautiful architecture but a visually stunning position above the valley and much of Papae. It wasn’t long before we were met by Ajahn’s mother, sister, and niece. This was the beginning of a brief but wonderful connection we made with these kind and caring people.

After a time, we walked into the village, watched a man feed the fish, then paid a visit to the rice field of Ajahn’s family. He’d encouraged me to visit Papae soon, as the lushness of the rice fields was particularly captivating this time of year. We were not disappointed. It was indeed beautiful.

Before long, we headed to Ajahn’s home, where he grew up and where his family still lives today. (Ajahn’s mother was born in Papae and has lived in her home at least since Ajahn was a little boy.) In brief, I’ll just say that we met many members of Ajahn’s immediate and extended family—to include Phra Rit’s mother, sister, and niece—and were quickly captured by their warmth, generosity and sweetness. Despite a significant language barrier (and despite the fact that although my Thai is poor, Thai is not the first language of most of the villagers—Lawa is), we were able to connect in a largely non-verbal way—through smiles, sharing, and an attitude of gentleness—and through the interpretation skills of Phra Ake and Vii. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner together (and an equally wonderful breakfast the next morning) and eventually retired to a quiet night at the temple. 

Although I was largely awake quite early, I waited until the sounds of monks sweeping the grounds, the ringing of a bell to signal that the current resident monks would be going on alms round soon, and ultimately, my confidence to arise that the mosquitoes had gone to bed, before I emerged from the comfort and security of our sleeping quarters. The coast was indeed clear, so I wandered about the monastery grounds for awhile in the emerging day and practiced some walking meditation near the ordination hall.

I soon encountered Phra Ake, who was sweeping the grounds. We chatted for a bit then finished packing up before heading back to Ajahn’s mother’s home for a lovely breakfast before beginning the long drive home. Before departing, we shared some nice moments with Ajahn Khamjan and Phra Rit’s families, including not-a-few photos. 

I am grateful firstly to our guides and friends Vii and Phra Ake for making this trip possible; secondly, to Ajahn Khamjan for planting (and watering) the seed that took us there; and especially, to Ajahn’s extended family for being so kind and caring, generous and genuine. We were touched by everyone’s hospitality and inclusion.

Perhaps we’ll return to this charming and beautiful, peaceful and lush village in the not-too-distant future. And maybe with Ajahn Khamjan with us, as I told his mother.

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Wat Umong (วัดอุโมงค์—Chiang Mai)

In terms of old and beautiful Buddhist sculpture and architecture, Wat Umong is easily the most interesting temple I’ve seen in the greater Chiang Mai area. The ancient temple, built in 1297 CE, features fascinating tunnels with hidden alcoves, a field of broken and decaying stone Buddha statues, a large sculpture of the emaciated bodhisattva, and a tall, stone stupa.

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