Author: bhikkhu cintita

  • Pa Auk Tawya: Practice

    Life at PAT is very familiar for someone who has been to Tassjara Zen Mountain Center and has done Zen sesshins. Life is centered around meditation practice with emphasis on silence and minimal social interaction. Some differences exist as well: First Tassajara is more self-sustaining, with monks keeping things running and doing the cooking. At PAT there is more dependence on lay people to do these things, which they happily do here as dana. Some monks, those who have a long affiliation with PAT do some work, mostly office functions, but occasionally even construction work. Next, there is little enforcement of rules around silence at PAT, or for showing up on time. In the Zen context one is always closely watched. There is also no expectation that you will not move during meditation. Someone does take attendance in the meditation hall. The monks are pretty much self-regulating though, even if fuzzy around the edges by Zen standards. Another difference is there is not the least visible hint of interpersonal strife or competitiveness at PAT. People just do what they are supposed to be doing.

     

    The sima hall is used for meditation, and it is huge, two stories, each story about half of the size of a football field. People sit in a grid pattern facing forward toward the altar, on each floor. There would be plenty of room for 1000 meditators.

     

    The meditation periods are long: one and a half hours. I found that this was manageable by shifting from left foot forward to right foot forward then back again during the period. The Burmese monks sit often in positions that are inconceivable in Zen, but the standard cross-legged position is … (you guessed it) the Burmese position; no one sits half or full lotus, except for foreign monks.  The monks are very diligent in their practice. Many of them sit in the afternoon right through the walking meditation period, so from 1 – 5pm, four hours, often without moving. PAT is the sittingest place I’ve every been. Of course they’re professionals: they’re monks! Very inspiring. The Burmese claim to have produced a few arahants in the last century, and it is easy to imagine that this could well be true. Most of the monks at PAT are working with teachers of the Pa Auk Tawya method, which is basically that of Buddhaghosa in the Path of Purification (6th century AD), with particular emphasis on concentration prior to vipassana.

     

    Once when I was meditation the thought came into my head of Western teachers that facilitate no-effort enlightenment experiences in a pleasant seminar context, and what the Burmese monks would think of that. I imagined the hundreds of them having enlightenment experiences like popcorn, but thinking that this is a pretty frivolous way to spend the time.

     

    Meditation hardware is sparse at PAT: Everyone has a 2′ x 2′ x 1/2″ piece of foam plastic to sit on, on top of a hardwood floor. About half of the monks just lay their bowing cloths over that. Sitting cushions are available; they are rectangular, about 2″ high and stuffed with straw. Most are pretty dilapidated. There are a few thinner cushions and people like me use towels are whatever they need for knees. There are no chairs or special arrangements at all; everybody is on the floor.

     

    One of the things that we probably need to reconsider in the West is the advisability of forcing people into Eastern sitting postures. We really are a chair culture. Burmese, as Japanese, grow up on the floor, and sit completely comfortably there. They have a wider range of postures they can assume. In Burma squatting is considered almost the most comfortable posture; they do it with both fleet flat on the ground, which is beyond my capability. In the West people are often advised to sit through the pain, a practice whose benefits are less available to Easterners, then we end up injuring ourselves. On the other hand there is something very grounded about sitting on the floor.

     

    Once when I was meditation the thought came into my head of Western high-tech multi-layered, adjustable meditation cushions, and how the simple monks at Pa Auk Tawya would react to such consumer products.

    There were a number f Mahayana monks at Pa Auk Taya, mostly Korean and Chinese. This was interesting for me because they look more like I looked a couple of months earlier. Most of the Mahayana monks observe almost the same precepts as the Theravada monks, and an additional set to boot. But their attire and style is quite a bit different, reflecting the development of the school over many centuries in the Chinese cultural area. They have robes for formal occasions, but generally wear monastic work cloths (in Japan this would be samu-e), for instance, for meditation. I noticed also that the Mahayana monks always have a much more deliberate, and for me much more familiar from Zen, posture in meditation, very erect, generally in lotus, and sitting on a raise cushion. There is a stronger emphasis on physical deportment.

  • Pa Auk Tawya Meditation Center: Alms Rounds Part II

    (Electricity came back on again, this is a daily occurrence anywhere in Myanmar.)

    Bhikkhus line up for alms in order of seniority, that is, how long since ordination, with bhikkhus before samaneras (novices). This would generally put me way down the line. However at Pa Auk Tawya they conventionally put foreigners ahead of Burmese. They also put Mahayana monks after foreign samaneras.

    The monks have a choice of where to sit for lunch. Many eat in their kutis. There is a room downstairs in Pindapata Hall reserved for foreigners where I generally ate. A spoon is the only instrument used for eating. I think most Burmese monks just eat with their fingers, as in the Buddha's time.

    There are a lot of rules for monks around eating. Foods must be offered by had. Most foods must be consumed by noon the day they are offered, so cannot be saved for a snack or for the next day's meal, except to return them to a layperson. Filtered fruit juices may be offered and consumed after noon, until dawn the next day.  "Tonics" (sugar/molasses, honey, butter and a couple of other things) may be consumed any time and save seven days after being offered Medicines can be kept forever.

    Sitagu handles meals quite a bit differently. Here there is no formal alms round. The staff here simply places food in dishes on the table, family style), then offers the whole table to the monks, by means of members of both lay and monk groups holding the edges of the table and lifting it.

    The food at Pa Auk Tawya is nutritious. It is also vegetarian; Sitagu is definitely not vegetarian. I had some difficulty with the food at Pa Auk Tawya: After I arrived I did not seem to have much appetite, which is rare for me, without feeling at all sick or feeling the food was inadequate. Then after about a week and a half I got sick (both  ends) for about a day, after which my  appetite returned completely. Then about a week and a half before leaving Pa Auk Tawya, I got even sicker for about two days, after which my appetite never recovered until I left Pa Auk Tawya. Go figure.

    Coming Soon: Practice at Pa Auk Tawya, Wildlife of Pa Auk Tawya, Wearing the Robes.

     

  • Pa Auk Tawya Meditation Center: Alms Rounds

    The monks were offered two meals a day, at about 5:45 AM, and shortly after 10:00 AM. Monks, of course, cannot eat after noon, except for certain things that have medicine or tonic status. In the traditional alms round (pindapata, which colorfully means "dropping a lump [of something into the alms bowl]" monks leave the monastery to walk into a village and them from house to house. This can be seen every day in any village in Myanmar. However, this does not work so well for a large monastery with 400 – 600 monks and no substantial village in the immediate vicinity. Instead, lay people come to the monastery to make offerings, and also the local staff prepares food supported by lay offerings, and the pindapata is staged at the monatery. This is a common arrangement, and in fact before I ordained I was able, with our itinerant pilgrimage group, to participate from the other perspective. There is a special building, Pindapata Hall, constructed with this in mind.

    Otherwise the form of the alms round is very traditional. Monks wear their robes covering both shoulders (an art I will describe in a later post), each with alms bowl in hand. What the bhikkhu actually carries is a rather large bowl, a lid for the bowl, a covered cop and a cloth napkin. The lid was added sometime after the Buddha; I can imagine to scenarios that might have motivated this, both involving birds.

    One walks through a gauntlet of people offering food. The first generally offers rice. Poper deportment is to focus on the food and avoid eye contact or any kind of interaction, including no acknowledgement of thanks. Most of the offerings go in the big bowl; the bhikkhu just lifts the lid to the side: noodles, sauces, beans, cooked vegetables, … However, by leaving the lid, turned upside down to form a tray, on the big bowl, one can receive something in the lid which you might have trouble envisioning as part of the stew accumulating in the big bowl: mango slices, cookies, soap, razor blades (some non-food items are also occasionally offered), candles. The napkin is necessary to hold under the big bowl in case someone offers a soup or sauce that is really hot. The cup stays in the lid and is filled with a drink, generally coffee or tea. Once we received milk shakes. One must be very mindful in carrying the bowl.

    The electricity just went out (for the fourth time today). I'm running on UPS, so I am going to go ahead and send this.

  • Pa Auk Tawya Meditation Center

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    My 52-day stay at Pa Auk Meditation Center represents phase II of my adventures in Myanmar. In the six weeks of Phase I our pilgrimage group (varying in size and composition with time) of Burmese monks and American lay people traveled through much of Myanmar and met many people from all walks of life, focusing mostly on Buddhist culture and monastic life. In the final days of the pilgrimage I joined the monastic contingent of group. Many photos were taken, but I understand that none have been posted yet to this blog. The group disbanded, as Aung Ko and Wendy returned to the States, and now Ashin Ariyadhamma a month later.  Phase I was very busy and very informative. For me it was overwhelming to be in such constant contact with so many new people and to be on the road so much. Phase II was just the opposite.

    The pilgrimage group dropped me off at Pa Auk Tawya on March 18. The hot season had begun in Myanmar, which will end with the coming of the rainy season in June. It is particularly hot and dry in Mandalay and Sagaing, so the Academy virtually shuts down. Quite a few people, including Sitagu Sayadaw, had recommended that I just take this time to attend a meditation retreat in a cooler part of the country. So, at the last minute, I heeded their advice.

    Pa Auk Tawya Forest Monastery, in Southeast Myanmar near Moulmein, is very famous for its founding teacher, now known as Pa Auk Tawya Sayadaw for the monastery he leads, as is the custom in Myanmar. At the time I showed up there were 700 people living and practicing there, including 400 monks, a large group of nuns and a large group of lay people. These three contingents are located in separate sections of the 500-acre (as I recall) property, so I joined the monks’ practice. Of the 400 monks, 76 were non-Burmese, including a number of Mahayana monks from China, Taiwan, Korea, etc., and a number of Theravada monks from the above named Mahayana countries. Most of the rest of the internationals were from Theravada countries. There were about ten of us Westerners: one other American, a Dane who looks like Reb Anderson, a Dutch guy, a French guy, three Germans. Oh, and a Ugandan, who has been ordained for about 20 years.

    The daily schedule looks like this:

    3:30 am – Wake up.
    4:00 – 5:30 am – Morning chanting a group sitting.
    5:45 – Pindapata (alms round).
    7:00 am – 7:30 am – Cleaning and personal time.
    7:30 – 9:00 – Group sitting.
    9:00 – 10:00 – Interview, walking meditation, personal time.
    10:10 – Lunch pindapata.
    1:00 pm – 2:30 – Group sitting.
    2:30 – 3:30 – Interview and walking meditation.
    3:30 – 5:00 – Group sitting.
    5:00 – 6:00 – Interview, work period and personal time.
    6:00 – 7:30 – Chanting and group sitting.

    7:30 – 9:00 – Dhamma talk (in Burmese).

    The schedule is almost the same everyday, no special days off, or skit nights. The only exception is that every full and new moon afternoon we recite the Patimokkha, bhikkhu precepts.

    The bhikkhus live in individual kutis (huts) scattered through the forest. In general silence and relative isolation is encouraged. The feel is very familiar to me from Tassajara Zen Mountain Center and from sesshins I’ve attended. If you relax into it, and can stand spending so much time with yourself, it is a very easy lifestyle. All you have to do is show up for meditation and for meals and keep your kuti clean

    More to follow …

  • Cintita Back On Line

    Readers of this blog my despair of not receiving postings from me since early March. I decided to enter Pa Auk Tawya meditation center on March 18, from which I emerged 52 days later, on May 9. I write from Sitagu Center in Yangon and will be back in Sagaing in about two days, where I should be in more regular contact for the duration of the year. I will offer a full report of my experience at Pa Auk Tawya presently.

  • Wearing the Robes

    Our group has been doing some more traveling, me sporting my new robes, before most of us (not me) return to the USA on March 20.

    The monks' robes carry a deep symbolic significance in Burma. People pay respect through bowing, often three times all the way floor, and these are often complete strangers acting quite spontaneously. Burmese people are well-informed about the lifestyle and rules of etiquette around monks, for instance, what monks are allowed to eat when, and how things, especially food, are properly offered. For me it is for me a lesson in what it must be like to be famous: I can't just go out for a stroll without anticipating interactions that I otherwise would not have. Readers who know me will not have missed that I am by nature reclusive, so this is a challenge for me, and at the same time a profound responsibility.
    Then, being a Wester monk seems to carry an additional charge. Any Westerner is exotic here, but a Western monk elicits particular interest, usually starting with a double-take. People seem to appreciate that a Westerner would embrace something so dear to the Burmese culture as I have. I think many Asians are somewhat in awe of Westerners in general (probably for all the wrong reasons) and this is probably all the more so in a country that is so far from achieving First-World status as Burma is. I imaging Western monastics must be seen as a striking and very full endorsement of the predominant Burmese faith.
    The proper mindset for the monastic is always to remember that he or she is only plaster that happens to have assumed the shape of the Buddha. I'm sure the Burmese are quite aware of this, given their tradition of temporary ordination and the close personal connection everyone has with monastics, often as family members. It's particularly easy for me to feel like a lump of plaster as I struggle with learning to wear the robes, learning the etiquette, and learning the Pali chants that I've heard six-year-old children recite by heart. Much of what I've learned through Zen practice simply does not carry over. It's very awkward, but the awkwardness is not unexpected or new, reminding me of the beginning of my tenure at Tassajara.
    Mostly I am pleased as I could be with the step I've taken. One of the Burmese monks with good English, U Suntara, aked what felt different to me after ordination. I replied, "I know what I am!" He seemed to understand and be pleased with my answer, but after thinking about it, I realized it does not quite get to the heart of it:
    A monastic is someone who makes a choice, a choice that few others see clearly they have the freedom to make. That choice is what the shape of his or her life will be. Specifically for the Buddhist monastic it is the choice to live, as a matter of vow, as if the Buddha's teachings were true. This is the mold that gives the plaster a recognizable shape. The value of exercising the freedom to live a life of vow was something I learned through years of Zen practice and through my reading of Dogen, that I was reenacting here in Burma.
    What is different after ordination is that now for the first time more than a few others, in fact an entire culture, recognizes the shape of my life. So, it's not so much that I know what I am — I've chosen to be it, after all — but that others know who I am. Not only that, but through their expressions of respect for the robes they show that they fully endorse my faith in this way of life. My gratitude for receiving this kind of support is boundless.
    U Chintita
  • Bhante Cindita

    Theravada ordination happens in two stages: (1) novice ordination, (2) higher ordination. Most typically novice ordination is undertaken by youngsters under the age of 20 and full ordination occurs at the age of 20. However after the age of 20 (like me) both can happen in quick succession, at least in the Burmese connection.
     
    Novice ordination involves shaving the head, donning the robes and taking the refuges and ten precepts. It requires only one monk to perform. Since full ordination for nuns died out in Theravada countries, novice ordination is the only option available for nuns in Burma, at any age. At the last minute it was decided that I should take novice ordination on the day before my full ordination was scheduled, in order to simplify a very busy March 10. A small ceremony was planned with Wendy and Aung Ko or our itinerant group in attendence along with two donors and U Lokanattha (from Jamaica), and with U Ariyadhamma giving the Precepts. We went outside to a large community outdoor bathing facility, basically a well-like structure common in Burma, where I got my hair wet and let U Loka shave my head. Of course, I have been shaving my head since April, 2003, when I ordained in Zen, but I had let my hair, or what was left of it, grow for about 3 weeks for just this occassion. The procedure attracted many curious Burmese of all ages, who were of course quite familiar with the procedure, but not so much with the nationality of the main participant. Back inside U Loka helped me put on the lower and upper robes in a side room after U Ariya had ceremonially offered them to me. In the main room the refuges and Precepts were administered in Pali. Tradition requires that this be pronounced precisely. Luckily I and a few others had been studying Pali with Bhante Sumedha back in Austin, but still U Ariya had to correct me a few times, then made me say them in Burmese pronunciation of Pali to boot.
     
    After novice ordination we reported to Sitagu Sayadaw, who would be my preceptor the next day, with me sporting my new burgundy outfit, just like U's Loka and Ariya, as well as Sayadaw. At this time Sayadaw came up with my name as follows: He asked me how long I had been thinking about this reordination. I answered, "For about four years." Then he said, "Usually if someone has a little name they do great things. If they have a big name they do little things." Then he pondered and came up with "Cindita," pronounced "Chin Dee Teh" in regular Pali or "Say Dee Tuh" in Burmese Pali. He says this means, "Great Thinker," sub subsequent research indicates that it means "One who has thought it through." So now approprate things to call me are: "U Cindita" or "Ashin Cindita" (both common forms in Burma), or Bhante Cindita or Venerable Cindita (which mean the same thing), or "Cindita Bhikkhu" or "Hey you, with the peculiar garb." My kids have permission to call me either "Daddy Cindita" or "Ol' Cindita."
     
    I felt like Lawrence of Arabia that evening, testing out my new clothing, except tht mine is much more primative, much like waring a beach blanket in public … all the time … forever. Apparently such fasteners as buttons, straps, zippers and velcro just didn't exist at the time of the Buddha, so the outfit stays on more by willpower. In the evening a Burmese family came to the room I share with Aung Ko and immeditately did full prostrations when I walked in. I discovered what it feels like to be a Buddha statue: just plaster but the recipient of so much reverence.
     
    Full ordination involves acceptance into a sangha, a group of at least five monks. (In Theravada "sangha" always specifically refers to a monastic community), after examination of qualifications, and then instruction in the basic parameters of one's vows. One's "instructor" does most of the talking and presents the candidate to the preceptor and sangha. The candidate takes on a set of 227 vows, though only the first four, those that can get you permanently kicked out of the sangha, are explicitly mentioned. My higher ordination was at 7 AM, March 10. Many people had mentioned that this timing was auspicious: It was a full-moon day; it was Sitigu Sayadaw's birthday, and it was the first ordination held in the newly built and magnificent conference center and ordination hall at SIBA. Sitagu Sayadaw acted as preceptor, Ashin Ariyadhamma as instructor, a group of about 110 monks including the students of SIBA as the sangha, and Cinitita in the role of "The Candidate." Also about 30 lay people were present, including all of the Americans and the Burmese in our pilgimage group. I hope that pictures will be availalble on or through this blog after my fell pilgims return Austin on March 20.
     
    Bhante Cindita
  • Big Theravada Conference

    March 5-8 I attended the 2nd conference of the Association of Theravada Buddhist Universities here at SIBA in Sagaing Hills. This was very much like many of the academic conferences I used to attend in the United States is format and feeling, bringing together a huge international set of scholars for general sessions and simultaneous panel sessions an a variety of topics.

    There were hundreds of participants, perhaps 60% of which were scholar-monks and nuns, and 40% lay people. Many participants, both lay and monastic were professors or advanced graduate students. Countries represented, in approximate descending order of number of participants, were Manmar, Thailand, Sri Lanka, Cambodia, India, Napal, Laos, USA, Indonesia, Singapore, Vietnam, Malasia, Australia, Uganda and Mexico. From the USA were Burmese monks and our group from Sitagu-affiliated centers, and the famous Bhante G. (Gunaratana, author of Mindfulness in Plain English; I've been a big fan for a long time). There were also a couple of Mahayana monks. Everyone was interested to meet a monk from Uganda, the only one. People are also very interested in Buddhism in the other frontiers of Buddhism, the USA and Mexico.

    Topics for lecture included scriptural teachings (pariyatti), practice (patipatti), Engaged Buddhism, monsticism, current development of Theravada, and current Pali literatures. All talks were in English, except for the sessions on Pali literature, which were in Pali. One of my tasks over the next year is to master Pali, but I see I am just starting. One of the things I've discovered is that the Burmese have their own pronunciation of Pali (e.g., sadhu becomes thadu, with English-like "th," paccaya becomes pissiya, etc.). But I learned during the conference that while the Burmese call their version of Pali "Pali," they call the standard pronunciation, found for instance in Thailand and Sri Lanka "Sanskrit"! I'm not sure what they call Sanskrit.

    An Indian scholar gave a talk on the role of Vipassana (Insight) meditation in Theravada. He declared it the heart of Theravada Buddhism, and stated that the Buddha's primary contribution in the area of insight or wisdom is the recognition that mere intellectual understanding of the nature of reality does not suffice, that one must go beyond conceptualisation and meet reality at the level of direct experience. This sounds exactly like Zen to me.

    Bhante G. gave practical talk about Buddhism in the USA. He came to the USA in 1968 (from Sri Lanka) and has founded the Bhavana Society, so spoke directly from experience. Some asked him how he sees the future of Buddhism in the USA. He said he thought the future looked "very bright," pointing out how many Buddhist groups are sprouting almost everywhere. But, he warned, that there is a lack of teachers and as a result a lot of misinterpretation of Buddhism. He said this is a very dangerous thing, comparing it to grabbing a snake by the wrong end. I had an opportunity to have a long talk with him yesterday morning. He was very encouraging of my intentions here.

    The conference also incorporated a lot of pomp and circumstance (the prime minister of Myanmar was here for the opening ceremony, for instance) and entertainment. The "cultural program" included chanting from Myanmar, chanting and dancing from Nepal, and music and dancing from Thailand. A group of about 20 young performers from a Buddhist university took a bus from north Thailand to come here. Their music was an interesting blend of traditional Thai and modern elements, for instance with very strange looking electric "guitars" and various percusion instruments, bamboo flutes, etc. The dancing, all be women, seemed completely traditional, very slow and graceful, moving in unison. The Thai's were a huge hit. Many normally constrained monks, many with cameras, seemed to take a lot of interest in the female dancers. (sigh.)

    My ordination is set for tomorrow morning. After that, our group will make a final trip, to Rangoon and the Mailay peninsula, bringing me back here to SIBA about March 20.

  • English Lessons

    The upcoming conference of the International Association of Theravada Buddhist Universities is almost underway here in Sagaing Hills. Many of the about three hundred visitors are beginning to arrive. Bhante Gunaratana of the Bhavana Society and author of Mindfulness in Plain English arrived yesterday. Originally only about 100 delegates were expected, preparations have gotten very busy. My ordination date has changed til after the conference, to the morning of March 10 here or the evening of March 9 in real (Texas) time.
     
    The conference is almost entirely in English, except for a smaller Pali language session. Some of the senior monks at Sitagu are busy preparing and rehearsing their talks, which for many is quite challenging. Many have much difficulty with pronunciation, even though the vocabulary is there, so I have been helping some of them to prepare. Although English is widely taught here, and Burma is a former British colony, few Burmese have contact with native speakers of English or with foreigners in general. I noticed in our travels to smaller villages that most Burmese have never even seen a foreigner outside of TV or movies. This made the native American component of our party very exotic indeed. It was interesting to be stared at so much, expecially by kids who would crowd around our car when we stopped and press their noses right up against the windows, then get very excited if we so much as waved, or if one of our party took their picture.
     
    I intend to offer a course focussing on the pronunciation of English as Sitagu. Sitagu Academy is supposed to be English-language speaking, but I understand that I will have to try to learn more Burmese than I intended to be able to communicate with people here. I was helping one of the monks whose rehearsal presentation I had attended without understanding more than a few words. While we were re-rehearsing I asked him who was currently teaching English at Sitagu. He answered that he was! People, kids and monks, are very eager to learn English or anything else, and work very diligently. So teaching English here should be a rewarding experience.
     
    One of our party, Scott Conn, has returned to Austin already. If he has not done so already, he intends to post some pictures to this blog so that you can see what it looks like around here.
     
     
  • Peculiarities of the Burmese

    Our itinerent group has taken two more trips since the last posting without enough time between for me to get a post off. The first was to Taunggyi and Lake Inwa in Shan State. Shan State seems to be the most prosperous in Burma and Taunggyi is very clean. In Burma a vacation trip is a pilgimage and vice versa, since anything worth seeing includes a pagoda as the dominating feature. Near Taunggyi we visited a very deep cave… containing over 8,000 Buddhas. The second trip was to Monywa, the home town of U Maho, the leader of our expedition. We stayed at his old monstery, at which he has recently founded a new grade school. Near Monywa there is what is reported to be the world's largest Buddha: 400 feet high, with stairs and windows all the way up. From Monywa we made an excursion to near the border of India, Kassapa National Park. It is deep in the jungle, and we rode elephants for the last couple of miles. It is reported to be the site of MahaKassapa's (MahaKashyapa's) demise. Kassapa is known for leading the First Council after the Buddha's death, and is also considered to be the second ancestor of the Zen lineage, right after the Buddha.
     
    Let me record a number of impressions I have of the Burmese:
     
    Most Burmese and slender and attractive in appearance. They exhibit a lot of racial variety; you can see Chinese-looking faces, Indian-looking, characteristic Burmese with rounder eyes than the Chinese, and sometimes European characteristics. The women are so attractive, it makes you wonder why there are so many monks (or what I am doing).
     
    Almost all Burmese, men and women, wear longyi, long skirts that wrap around and constantly have to be retied. In wealthier areas a certain proportion of Western-style clothing is found.
     
    Most women and many children wear thanakha on their faces. This is made from a tree bark, protects the skin and is supposed to be cooling. Its color is an off-white. Some women wear it stylishly symmetrically on each cheek, others just cover their whole faces (and bodies, I am told), giving them a ghost-like appearance.
     
    A lot of Burmese, mostly men, young and old, chew betel nuts, which are a mild stimulent. This turns the teeth red, lending a vampire-like appearance to the consumer.
     
    Burmese are very playful and smile a lot. This is even true of people hawking small items at tourist sights. They take their profession as a kind of game and generally feel no resentment when turned away; for instance, they will be glad to give you directions thereafter.
     
    I suppose Westerners are disorganized in their own ways, but it is more noticable in a foreign culture. Schedules change constantly. Some may recall that our group was originally going to embark on our trip from Austin on February 14, then this changed twice. This seems to be quite normal here. For instance, I have been scheduled to ordain on March 5 for some time now, right between two other events. Now I notice that the two events have been merged without notification (I don't know what that means for international travelers to the second event who have already made travel arrangement). Another thing I observe constantly is that no one seems to paint a wall or ceiling without dribbling paint on the floor. Sometimes beautiful wood or marble floors are impaired by this. I am not sure what they are thinking; they do have newspapers here.
     
    People tolerate and feed cats and dogs, which are abundant, but rarely claim ownership of are particularly fond of these animals. One reason, it occurs to me, might be that monks provide an outlet for their affection, and may be even more good natured and loyal.
     
    The hardest thing for me to understand is that people seem to be completely insensitive to noise. Americans get mad when a neighbor plays the stereo too loud or too late. To the Burmese this seems to be a kind of offering; they even set loudspeakers outside for the benefit of their neighbors, full blast, and this can be any time, even at 3:30 in the morning. People just don't seem to care. Buddhist temples often plan Pali chants full blast, sometimes throughout the night. Weird.
     
    People seem to have a completely different sense of personal space than we. Their houses tend to open directly to the outside. They don't care if people peek in on them. On tours of hospitals we have been surprised at the places we were allowed to visit. Men have a lot of freedom to wear as little as possible, and often bathe outside. Monks too. Women always maintain a high degree of modesty, even if bathing outside.
     
    I'm getting to understand traffic patterns, or lack thereof, a bit better. Initially I interpreted the inceasant honking and meaning "get out of my way!" and wondered why no one who was targeted in this way appeared in the least angry. I now see that there is part of an interactive process. I honk means, "I'm right behind you." The response is typically to look ahead, determine if it is safe for the honker to pass, then to turn on the left blinker to signal the go ahead. After passing there are usually a couple of seemingly friendly hand gestures involved. Right of way seems to depend entirely on relative size of vehicle, even when a car is entering the street from a driveway as a bicycle is passing. There seem to be no traffic laws, no traffic police and no auto insurance.
     
    Myanmar has some light industry, and manufactures a couple of different cars, from, I understand, 65% domestic parts. One of these is a kind of Jeep. Another is a little blue truck, hardly bigger than a skate board, that apparently comes in a kit for home assembly. Most of the economy is agricultural, and seems not to have changed through the centuries. Farmers work with little more than hoes and sometimes oxcarts. Even highway construction is very primitive, with large numbers of people hauling rock and sand by hand, and heating asphalt in barrels with wood.
     
    There is for the most part little protection of the environment. Most cities have no garbage collection; people simple burn trash wherever they want, producing some awful smells. Exceptions are Taunggyi, in which I was surprised to find garbage trucks. The air seemed very clean there. People dicard rubbish rather indescrimately. Kassapa National Park is another exception, in which the forests are well preserved. Apparently the park was endowed with a huge grant from the Japanese.
     
    Electricity is very unreliable here. We have power at SITA about 70% of the time, with daily outages. If you get a very abrupt email from me, it is probably because the power has just gone out and the computer is running for a short time on battery.
     
    Public health is an issue. I've seen little evidence of emergency care. Most health clinics are run by monasteries at very little cost. We have been very careful about the food and water we consume; it is easy for Westerners to get sick here. It is lucky that we are traveling with Burmese monks who have lived in the USA for a time, since they are concerned that they have lost their immunities. Sitagu Buddhist Academy, where I am now, is very careful about food and water. I read that the life expectency here is about 53 years.
     
    Burma is a country where, working through Buddhist organizations, a little help from abroad can go a long way. We visited a new school in Monywa, two stories tall, with classrooms and housing for teachers, that was built through a donation from one person in Baltimore for $20,000. Health care and education are to two biggest concerns of Buddhist organizations, though I would like to see orphages and nunneries also better supported. At the same time, Burma in turn has a lot to give the West; though not materially, it is certainly spiritually much stronger.
     
    Kojin