Morning chanting was really fast and it’s going to be a struggle to go back to Pali-Thai. The alms round was especially painful for some reason and it might just be that layers of my skin were being grated away with each step.

After the meal we had an ovata where the abbot told us that termites had overrun sections of the kitchen. As a way of showing gratitude to the kitchen staff who prepare food for us daily, he got all the monks to help clean up the entire kitchen area and sala in preparation for Wan Phra where there will be more guests than usual. I didn’t know monks did this sort of thing too but given that it’s WPN it’s no surprise.

We helped with moving all the old tools and furniture out of the kitchen. Then we scrubbed all the furniture, railings and work surfaces. Given how much dust and cobwebs had accumulated in some places it wouldn’t be surprising if they had told me that they last did this 5 years ago. They also had 5-6m long brooms to clean cobwebs off the ceiling with were rather fun to use. We sprayed, scrubbed and dried the entire floor area then formed a chain to move all the stuff back in. What was really surprising was that nothing was broken at all until a kitchen staff mishandled a plate in the kitchen.

I think it took 1.5 hours overall and involved about 15 monks and novices. When we finished around 12 we had Nam Pana early but this time with all the lay people that helped too.

Having cleaned the kitchen we no longer had to do the long chores, so they were only half an hour today and there was no evening chanting either. We were expected to practice privately. I did this back at the kuti in the candle light. As I was about to fall asleep I’m sure I heard a tukkae fall onto the roof and move about, but it didn’t make its distinctive sound. This was the last thing I needed to be living with me.

For once the sleep wasn’t too bad. I had obtained an extra blanket to use as a lower layer to the straw mat which helped somewhat with the cushioning but not so much the insulation. Trying to sleep at 7pm didn’t help much either but turning on a light of any sort would draw all sorts of living beings to the kuti.

The morning chanting was surprisingly fast. It’s so much faster in Pali-English! The whole morning chant was done in half an hour at 4am and another hour of meditation followed. I spent half of that doing walking meditation as my legs were not feeling well from all the kneeling and came back to sit for the last half an hour.

The alms round went on a different route today and took about an hour. Some parts of the trip were excruciating but somehow manageable overall, although I was struggling to keep up with the others. Maybe without me and Tan C. the experienced monks would have paced it in less than an hour. Also wearing only the outer robe as Ajahn R. suggested was a lot easier. I’ve just realised that I haven’t eaten much meat recently and it’s not something commonly offered. Even so, given how much veg I consumed it was unusually hard to do a number two. This shouldn’t be that surprising given that we only eat 1 meal a day in about 25 minutes. After the meal there’s Ovata which is a brief talk or lesson given by the abbot and I was just late for it. We got a small telling off as a result. Remember, from now it’s at 9:30am.

I cleaned up the storage room #2 and toilet block #4 for the 3-4:30pm chores. The storage room I made sure to sweep inside and mop the paved area outside. The toilet was being used by the works people building the new Bot (temple building) so I only gave the block a quick spray. I finished it all before 4:30pm so took a quick shower by the bowl drying shed. This seemed to be the best time as the water is not too cold yet and there are no more strenuous activities in the evening.

At 4:30pm is Nam Pana and I talked to Tan C. as usual and getting to know Nen (Thai term of a novice monk) P. who’s from Laos and speaks really good Thai. He asked if I could help teach him some English as he was still a beginner and I happily obliged. Teaching was perhaps going a little too far as I was no teacher but I’ll try my best. Afterwards I hung around and practised some more of the chants.

Evening chanting was at 6:15pm and the Pali-English chant was rapid compared to Pali-Thai, only 30 minutes again. This was then followed by 1 hour of meditation sitting and/or walking. After we finished at 7:45pm I went straight back to sleep.

Last night was spent in fear and I achieved little sleep if any. First of all it was freezing. I couldn’t really work out why because it’s not as cold as Chiang Mai. I realised then that the floor boards had really big gaps and it didn’t help that I had most of the windows open. I thought that being Thailand without an air conditioning unit, windows were my last resort. I was so wrong, and tonight the windows will be closed.

There was also the noise, and it was coming from everywhere. The piercing chirps and squeaks of insects and the animals shuffling in the undergrowth and on trees nearby. I was constantly alert. And then there was the really hard floor, which is going to take some getting used to. The straw mat provided minimal cushioning and insulation. The pillow was more of a hard cushion and far from comfortable.

Morning chanting was terribly painful as it’s the day after Wan Phra and so it was the slow Pali-Thai chanting once again. Half way through I had to switch positions because my toes couldn’t take it any more and went into papiap. Unlike the relative luxuries in Chiang Mai there was no light morning snack. Here there was only one meal at around 8:30am.

I met another monk called Tan T. and I must have made a bad first impression since I asked if he was Malaysian but he turned out to be Singaporean. He showed me the morning routine of selecting your seat and rinsing your bowl before the alms round. Unlike in Bangkok, the forest monks here detach the bowl stand from the bowl just before the alms round. Ajahn R. saw that my attempt at wearing the robes double layered was failing miserably towards the end of the alms round. He was kind enough to tell me that I should just wear a single layer tomorrow.

On the alms round I learnt that the forest monks shift their bowls so the strap goes over the right shoulder under the robe at the start of the walk. I panicked as I had never done this before but was very thankful when a novice monk helped me out. Any risk of potentially making the lid fall off struck deeply. There were lots of people to offer food and check points every few minutes for us to empty our bowls so we could receive more food. Walking barefoot on the road was more or less fine until the car park at the very end which had lots of sharp stones designed to physically torment you. All the other monks seemed to have no problems at all.

All the food that was received was taken to the kitchen and then prepared by the kitchen staff. The monks then take turns in order of seniority to pick out their food. All the food that you will eat went into your own bowl. The abbot urged the monks to slow down and contemplate the food as they ate but everyone finished really quickly anyway. Luckily boarding school trained me to eat fast.

At the meal, each monk would not only have their bowl to eat from, but also a bowl stand to rest the bowl on (it has a curved bottom), a water kettle, a spittoon for putting rubbish in and other accessories like a cup and sitting cloth. I was glad that Tan M. taught me about how to carry all the stuff in one go (which every monk did) as the eating area was a little walk from the cleaning area. There’s much practice to be had, especially with the robe slowly undoing itself as you walk. After the meal I did some laundry and swept the leaves around the kuti. I’m definitely not used to having this much flora and fauna next to me.

In the afternoon we had quick chores (30 minutes instead of 1 and a half hours) and I’ve been assigned to clean up a storage building and a toilet block. The storage building looked troublesome as it involved mopping inside and outside and potentially releasing a tonne of ants. Afterwards at around 5pm we had tea with all the monks in a separate building instead of the bowl drying shed where Nam Pana was normally held.

The abbot read some passages from a book Noble Warrior and Tan C. and I introduced ourselves as new visiting monks. We sat in order of seniority around the perimeter of the room and I spent most of my time talking to Tan C. After tea I went straight back to try to sleep. There was a sauna session but I didn’t feel comfortable walking in the dark in a strange place with only a flash light to go by. Sauna in a forest monastery did sound somewhat enticing and I’ll give it a go at least once while it’s still bloody freezing in the evening.

I think if my parents saw the condition at the kuti they would be shocked. It’s essentially a wooden shed on legs with a straw mat and a hard pillow. I suppose I should have expected this when I said I wanted to go back to basics but I guess my definition of basic didn’t extend as far as I thought it should. Not having a mobile phone is both a blessing and a curse. I do feel truly disconnected and ready to start a new life out here in the forest, which was kind of the point.

However not being able to let mum know that I’ve reached the monastery at least must be worrying for her. It was easy to take instant communication for granted. Either way it might be best that she didn’t know for now what I have to go through here. The worst thing I’m anticipating by far is how to sleep at night given all the insects and lizards that will be swarming around this new juicy prey. The gaps in the floor boards are large enough that even house geckos can fit through.

I spent a while wondering the entrance to the monastery as no one was about. Then I ran into a layperson staying at the monastery, a Japanese man and he told me to go further into the temple area. Then I randomly met the first monk at WPN who goes by the name of Tan S. and he’s been monk for 4 years now. Judging by his accent he’s probably Filipino and has cheery personality.

I saw that he had a watch with the straps removed and attached to his belt with a string. I realised that I didn’t have any way of telling the time since I had given up my phone. I asked if I could have something similar. He took me to the dedicated store room which was looked after by an elderly German monk going by his accent. I ended up receiving a very old looking small digital table clock, a wry smile as I was leaving and a final “I hope the battery still works”. I could at least appreciate the sense of humour.

Tan S. took me to my designated kuti number 21 and I took a moment to dump my stuff and gather my thoughts as to what I had gotten myself into. The walk from the central area to the kuti was about 10 minutes. The kuti itself is in the middle of the woods with a singular paved footpath leading to it. It was a wooden shed, no larger than 2 by 3 metres covered with a zinc roof. There were windows on the 3 walls and a door on the other leading out to a small balcony. At least they had the fly screens on the windows but I don’t know how much it’s going to help given how many holes are around them. The construct is built on concrete legs to with wooden stairs leading up to the balcony. At the foot of each leg is an oil moat which keeps the ants from climbing up. Apparently out of all the dangers of the forest, it’s the ants that are the hardest to keep out. There was no electricity.

On my return to the central area I met another Thai monk called Tan C. who’s in the same situation as myself. He arrived at WPN 3 days ago and has been a monk for a month and half. He looks like he’s in his 50s but when everyone has no facial hair, eyebrows nor head hair it’s quite hard to tell. He seems like a pleasant bloke and told me a lot of information and about the “guest monk” who should have introduced me to the way of things here. There’s a lot of sweeping in the meantime and I was surprised that they don’t throw all the leaves away somewhere. If they sweep it all into a pile to the side of the path, surely the wind is just going to blow it all back again?

Then I eventually met Tan Ajahn Kevali who is the abbot at WPN and he’s a very compassionate monk and likes to crack a few jokes of his own. He was kind and accommodating and reassured me just like Ajahn Jaya. Nam Pana was calm and simple. I met a few monks I didn’t know and they were all warm and welcoming. Since it’s an international monastery, English is the common language here and honestly I felt much more at ease. Then I had to walk back to the kuti to put on the main robe for the evening chanting.

It’s been such a long time (if ever) that I’ve had to go by torch light alone in the middle of a forest, let alone a Thai one. There was a toilet block about 80 metres walk from the kuti. Using a torch to get to the toilet and then showering in the candlelight with cold water is not something I especially look forward to every day. There was no electricity in the toilet either. By the time I finished showering and walked back to the kuti it was already getting dark. I can see now why some monks roll the main robe one handed. It feels that it should be easier to do in the dark if one hand is just rolling and the other holding the cloth up.

By the time I was walking back to main sala it’s pitch black. You’d get used to the path after a while but it’s pretty scary to do the first time. I almost stepped on a toad on the way because it looked just like any other rock but noticed the shiny oily skin and eyes at the last minute.

Since today is Wan Phra the evening chanting was done in Pali-Thai. The Thai part was frustratingly slow, which did not help with the pain in my knees and toes. All the other monks remained unmoved with unflinching discipline as I was restless and shuffling my feet throughout in agony. I was told that normally the chanting was done in Pali-English. The walk back to the kuti wasn’t easy either. There was a late Dhamma talk which goes until late but I was absolutely knackered so I just went back to the kuti, took off my main robe and tried to sleep.

• kuṭī A small dwelling place for a Buddhist monastic; a hut.
• sāla (Thai) A hall.
• Wan Phra (Thai) Literally: ‘Holy Day’. A weekly Buddhist holiday, corresponding with the lunar phases.

I thought this would be a good point to reflect again on the experiences thus far as I will soon be departing for my final destination and where the true journey begins. It couldn’t have been more obvious how out of my depth I was during the previous few days. Initially what I struggled with most were of the physical nature. They were mostly related to the ritualistic part of the practice as they required me to sit in positions that I was not used to for long periods of time.

The morning chanting sessions begin with homages to the Buddha, the Dhamma (teachings of the Buddha) and the Sangha (the monk community). These chants take almost half an hour and as a monk you’re expected to do them on your knees and toes. Growing up abroad, one rarely encounters situations where you have to do this for any length of time. In preparation I spent a few weeks practising this at home on the floor and the longest I could persevere in that pose was almost 10 minutes. This turned out to be woefully inadequate for the amount of time that was actually required and would end up being a struggle until the very end of my practice.

Another posture that I had completely forgotten about was the papiap, which is a uniquely Thai way of sitting where one leg is folded sideways pointing backwards. It took a while to get used to as it puts a surprising amount of strain on your back but this was possible to alleviate. You could switch sides as only one foot is pointing backwards at any one time so you can share the strain between the both knees and sides of the back. As a monk you only have to be careful to not reveal your private parts when switching sides as you’re essentially wearing a long skirt without underwear.

Sitting cross-legged would prove to be surprisingly difficult, by virtue of the fact that you often have to do it for long periods of time. Growing up in South-East Asia, sitting on the floor cross-legged in itself was fine. Try doing it for an hour meditating though and you definitely start to feel some tension in the knee or knees which would never seem to dissipate until you got up. This would also prove to be problematic the entire time I was a monk.

Suffering of the body was most immediate and pronounced whereas the suffering of the mind would be more latent and require some time to contemplate. The first worry was around my conduct as a monk, and the fear of embarrassment from behaving incorrectly. I had become a monk very suddenly and I didn’t really know what I was doing. Monks are reserved and inconspicuous by nature and in a different environment I would be none the wiser to my various mishaps (unless my actions were obviously deplorable). However I was very lucky that I had a senior monk who I could openly talk to in Chiang Mai and ask to highlight my misdemeanours.

One particular episode that will stay with me was the very first chanting session when I didn’t have any idea about what I was suppose to be saying and decided to try and blag it. It was purely out of embarrassment and the assumption that I should’ve known the words and can’t let it be known otherwise. However a layperson right beside me noticed straight away and handed me the book opened at the right page.

From that I gleaned a few things. First of all I consoled myself that there was no way that I could’ve known any of it and openly admitted it at the interview later on. This was my second week after all. But also I should not have tried to blag it like I did as there was no reason to in the first place. There was no way that what I did would be sustainable. The worst thing about it was in some ways it was belittling the rituals of the tradition. These people turned up and did what they did because they are faithfully following those practices and for a monk to pretend to go along with it felt awfully ignorant in hindsight. I had placed my fear of embarrassment and ego before the practice itself.

The most important realisations would also come with ridding myself of that sense of self-importance. One aspect that I initially found hard to grasp was the act of prostrating in front of more senior monks and then being prostrated to by laypeople. With a western mindset I had seen it as severely outdated and almost barbaric for it to still be a thing in the 21st century.

However I had to be reminded by another monk to remove myself from that perspective. The laypeople were not paying respects to me, this person. They were paying respects to the practice itself. Once I heard that it became crystal clear that I had the wrong views to begin with. Instead it was a humbling reminder that I was merely a symbol of a practice and there was no “me” in that. This practice has been around for over two thousand years. In time this generation of Buddhists will suffer the cycle of old age, sickness and death. However the next generation of lay Buddhists will still be prostrating to the next generation of monks. We are mere snapshots in this perpetual cycle.

Once I managed to rid myself of these held views of the self, the understanding and feelings of compassion would easily manifest themselves when prostrating before a more senior monk. Just as the laypeople were not prostrating to “me”, I was not just prostrating to that individual monk either. Instead I was paying respects to the fact that he was an even more determined symbol who was on the same path as us all.

In western cultures we are strongly conditioned to view the world as an empowered individual and that our own interests reign supreme. It is no surprise then that society is suffering from a drought of empathy and compassion. One thing I learnt was that there were few better ways to cultivate humility than to prostrate before a symbol that reminded us that we would all face the same inevitable truth of old age, sickness and death, and that there was a right away to go about dealing with it all.

An aspect which would stand out to foreigners and secular people would be the great number of ceremonies and rituals as part of the practice. I had taken it all for granted since most Thais would be familiar to a certain extent to the rituals and chants in a Buddhist monastery. However to foreigners or non Buddhists it might all seem very archaic. What I would try and encourage though is for onlookers to see this with an open mind and if possible view things from the perspective where there are no personalities and egos. Author UpapanPosted on 2020-07-22Tags monkhood, reflection Post navigation