I have been wanting to write about this for a while now… but I kept putting it back probably because I know that deep down, it’s going to be a feat writing about it. I am still going to try. The inspiration came after my visit to Mahagandayon Monastery when I saw throngs of tourists with their cameras and camcorders and how intrusive the whole scene and encounter between “outsiders” – me included – was. A wave of guilt surfaced from within. That feeling tugged at me. Disclaimer: It’s a sensitive issue to write about but I am going to attempt to lend a voice to them, whether they are novice or senior monks. I am writing based on the perspective of what I see through their routines and the places I have visited in Mahagandayon Monastery in Amarapura, Mandalay. I have also talked to some of them about their lives in the monasteries and what they do every day. It is one of the largest monasteries and educational platforms for monks and nuns in Burma. I might fail to accurately represent the community of monks and nuns in Burma because they all have their own individual personalities, mindsets and perspectives of the world. In addition, there is the element of unobtrusive photography used here hoping to capture the ordinary and the candid nature of the friendships amongst the monastic community. The bell goes, like a school bell that sounds after every 30 minutes signalling the end of another period. It is 09 45. It’s almost time for lunch – our second and last meal of the day. It has become a routine for me and my friends. Will there be another tourist crowd today? Needless to say, our school has become a stomping ground for many travellers across the globe. My friends liked it – the attention given to them and the chance to practise the English language they have learnt on their own. I liked how they look forward to it every morning. We needed to get ready to make a beeline before we receive our meals that were generous donations from the local community. Our teachers and the senior monks are the first few in line. We as novice monks followed suit. It was a sign of respect towards them. My teachers taught us meditation techniques every day and we learn an immense wealth of knowledge about Buddhism from them as well as whenever we do our readings in every pocket of time we find available. That is my favourite part – I embrace all the free time I get indulging in my own reading pleasures. Reading about the way of Life, governed by Buddhism – the simplest things in life are not things, but the relationships we have with Buddha and my friends. I enjoy my time spent in the monastery because that meant I can be in school, be with my friends and be learning many things about the world through my religion. It’s the camaraderie we share, the tight discipline we have and the sense of community and belonging we feel in this space we call our second home. If I can, I never want to leave this place. We use a cloth to clean the tables and wash the utensils before lying them neatly on the dining table. I like how we all did this together daily. As we did so, I felt more gazes on us. The tourist crowd multiplied as it gets closer to lunch time. I am being watched and I have to behave according to how I am expected to. I adjusted my robe quickly. Do I look at the cameras facing me? I feel awkward… maybe I will just walk away quickly. It will be fine – I do not think it is appropriate for me to look at the cameras and have my pictures taken. It’s almost time – just a few more minutes before we receive our alms in our black, lacquered bowls. We always made sure that we have them with us, together with our cups and towels. Sometimes, I have a red pen with me because we will be heading back to our study rooms to proceed with the day’s lessons right after lunch. I am thankful for the alms we receive from the charitable donors – our school seemed to be quite renowned because it felt that we have an increasing number of curious-eyed travellers drawn to our compound with each passing day. Sometimes, our teachers tell us that we must be grateful and not take for granted the monetary donations from the local and international community. Without them, we will not have the reading materials essential for lessons and basic necessities like food and shelter. It’s time – yes! – the bell is going to ring any minute now.We stood in line, patiently waiting. Just that with every second it took, the surrounding glares and attention given to us made waiting so agonising. I wish I could look away instead of facing front as we were told to do. Maybe I should look down, at my toes. Then I can avoid the gaze of another curious outsider. Is it time yet? I cannot wait for someone to hit the gong when the clock strikes exactly at lunch time. I was waiting fervently for that moment because that meant that the queue will start shortening as we start walking, it will soon be my turn to collect my alms, walk to my designated dining space, sit down and blend in with my friends and not continue to worry about “how to avert the tourist’s gaze.” I don’t think I can ever get used to this. My friends, especially my seniors and my teachers have grown used to this. Me? Maybe a few years later when we grow “immune” to the tourist’s gaze. The bell rang. Finally – the wait is unbearable. We started walking, looking ahead of us, bowing in respect to thank our donors who scooped a portion of the food from the tin trays. There were sweets and biscuits in addition to our staple – rice and some gravy. I sat down, heaved a sigh of relief and began eating. I looked around hoping to see that I have successfully escaped from the uncomfortable situation I was in earlier. No, they are still snapping pictures of us eating. Thank goodness I am seated right in the centre of the dining room. Nobody will be able to see me clearly. What’s so special about us queuing for food and eating? Minutes passed. Lunch hour was over. We proceeded to wash our bowls and utensils. Before that we had to leave the dining room (that meant having to make our way to the communal washing points where there are people lingering around who still have their cameras strapped on their necks), it is starting to feel tiresome having to deal with the kind of unnecessary attention that I do not desire. It’s okay. We will be back in the study room right after this. No more (awkward) tourist gazes today. The cycle will repeat tomorrow. There was some time left before our study sessions commence. My friend, as usual, goes around to converse with travellers. He told me that it is the best opportunity to practise what he has learnt – to talk about the world issues outside of the monastery, to communicate his ideas in English and to know more about the people he has come in contact with. He said that it is amazing getting to know two or three different people each day – about their nationalities, their beliefs and the kind of information they bring forth and have with them through each unique encounter. Every conversation was like a piece of valuable information that he could add on to his wealth of knowledge and life experiences. Sigh, if only I was like him. Even though we tried learning English on our own, there was no need to practise English with each other because it was only natural that we speak to each other in Burmese. “English is my cup of tea.” He often said. I knew why. Our teachers often told us that it was important that we learn a universal language. It was also one of those social levellers that will enable him to cross cultural boundaries, connect with people all over the world and increase his social status and position when he grows up. One day, when I have enough courage and have gained enough confidence to overcome the tourist gaze, I will. It is time for lessons – my favourite part of the day. I enjoy time spent on meditation. It makes me feel calmer and brings me closer to the realm of Buddhism. We all sit cross-legged on the mat in the prayer hall, silently devoting our time and minds to the teachings of the Buddha with our teachers seated in the teakwood chairs before us. I like how our minds are clear after prayer and devotion – away from the clutter I had earlier in my mind. Like many school students, we also have to sit for our semestral examinations in our huge study room. We are assessed based on what we have learnt and studied from the assigned books before we can move on to the next level. I also feel the jitters during the examinations because it will determine whether I can progress together with my friends who are in the same level as me. We also have ambitions and dreams that we share with each other. During the examination period, the spacious study room is converted to an examination hall where we spend hours in. I love being in communal spaces because that always reminds me that we are as one – one monastic community. In that study room, the senior monks have their own private spaces allocated to them where they retreat to after a long day. A senior monk brought me and showed me his humble abode, piled high with books at the sides near the windows. He passed me some of his books and showed them to me eagerly, wanting me to take a look for myself even though I am going to see them again in the next few years of monastic education. He was giving me a prelude to what I am going to learn. I appreciated that gesture. He once shared with me that he hopes to become a teacher to many monks one day. He hopes to do well in his final examinations so that he can pursue his Master’s Degree in his desired academic field one day. He dreams to become a meditation teacher because the power of meditation is as important as education is crucial to the development of young healthy monks. I listened to him as he spoke with so much enthusiasm that I was inspired to be a teacher myself. Our teachers in the monastery are extremely dedicated, they have profound knowledge given their life experiences and all that they have been through all these years. They have all our respect and they also treat us the same way, just like how we treat others kindly, seeking to understand and educate the people around us. I believe that is the central core of humanity – to be kind to others and respect them for who they are and what they choose to do. I also stick to it in my daily life as a monk.
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