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.