Tag Archives: Buddhism

My first “Buddhist Day” – vegan dinner and temple ceremony

August 4, 2023 Sharon 3 Comments

When it comes to Buddhist temples, I have definitely seen my fair share. (Check out my Wat’O’The Week series from when we lived in Laos.) However, I never participated in a temple ceremony … until now.

I was chatting with our school’s athletic director, Matt, earlier this week about being a vegetarian in Thailand. He mentioned that his wife, Oon, ate vegetarian once a week to honor Buddhist teachings. I texted her to say, “Hey, I would love to join you for vegetarian food some time!” and she immediately wrote back, saying, “Today is Buddhist day! We can go find vegetarian food for dinner if you’re interested.”

That evening, Oon picked me up in her golf cart and took me to V-Kitchen, a vegan Thai restaurant in our ‘hood. The food was delicious, albeit a tad spicy. (And since it was Buddhist day, I didn’t want to order a beer to cut the fire. ) Each dish was bursting with Thai flavors and tasted like their traditional meaty counterparts. I will definitely return!

During dinner, Oon mentioned that she was hoping to visit the temple because it was a Buddhist holiday. Always keen for a cultural event, I jumped at the chance to join her.

First, we drove to Oon’s house to switch vehicles and outfits. She put on a white top, and we both donned long embroidered wrap-skirts, called sinh. I actually own a gorgeous sinh from Laos, but we didn’t have time to swing by my house. I loved the bright yellow color of the sinh Oon lent me.

Golf carts can’t venture too far from our neighborhood, so we jumped in Oon’s car and headed for Viriyadhammo Meditation Center, about 30 minutes away. A full moon peeked out from the cloudy sky, and bright lights illuminated the rural temple. I couldn’t see much beyond the car headlights, but Oon said the temple was surrounded by rice paddies.

Asahna Bucha Day, a national holiday, occurs on the first full moon of the eighth lunar month. This year, it fell on Tuesday. It commemorates the day that Buddha delivered his first formal sermon after his enlightenment.

According to the Fan Club Thailand website, Thais celebrate Asahna Bucha Day with a visit to the temple.

In Buddhism, white represents purity and many devotees will wear a white top when visiting the temple on the main Buddhist holidays. Temples across the country are busier than usual on these dates with Thai people giving alms to monks and performing the wian tian ceremony. This involves a person holding a lighted candle (tian), incense and flowers as they walk clockwise in a circle (wian) three times around the main bot of the temple.

Sure enough, that’s what we did.

We kicked off our shoes and climbed the steps, which were flanked by a huge silver Phaya Naga, the mythical half-human half-snake that guards the temple. At the top, people were kneeling on mats and chanting. Someone handed Oon a couple of mats for us, so we found a spot to sit. Oon took a book of chants, found the correct page, and joined the chanting, while I just soaked in the peaceful vibe.

Chanting at the temple.

Oon explained that the people dressed in white with dark sashes were staying at the temple to study and meditate. The women with shaved heads were nuns. She said women can become a nun temporarily, something she hopes to do someday for a month or so.

At the base of the temple, a waterfall flowed over two nagas, while a monkey figure appeared to climb the wall. I asked Oon why there was a monkey, and she said when Buddha would teach, even the animals gathered to listen. A huge golden Buddha topped the temple, and Oon noted it was the “Saturday Buddha,” and she was born on Saturday, so it was particularly special. I previously wrote about the Buddha’s days-of-the-week poses here, so I knew that Saturday Buddha is sitting in meditation with the naga protecting him.

On the other side of the water, a raised platform held an altar replete with special treats and drinks to attract spirits. Several monks faced the altar, and a master held a microphone to lead the chants and offer teachings.

After awhile, everyone stood up, stacked their mats, and took a candle, a lotus flower, and three sticks of incense, which symbolized Buddha, his teachings, and the monks, according to Oon. Worshippers repeated a chant as we walked clockwise around the temple three times. Then we stuck the incense sticks in a big pot of sand, and placed the candles and flowers near the altar.

Everyone sat down again, and the master invited people to come forward to present their prayers and receive blessings. Oon gripped a white envelope, and told me to hold the other side. “Make a wish,” she said. “Think about the people you love.” Then she grabbed my hand and we shuffled forward on our knees across some turf and up a couple stairs. Of course, I didn’t understand what was being said, but it was clear the monk was receiving our wishes. I imitated Oon’s gestures to show respect, and then we shuffled backward down to our spots.

Soon the master stood up with a bundle of sticks and a helper carrying a bucket. “It’s holy water,” Oon said excitedly. The master dipped the sticks in the water and shook them over the kneeling worshippers. A few stray drops landed on my shoulder. “Oh, that’s lovely,” I thought to myself. Then the master approached, dipped the sticks in the bucket, let all the water pour down on my head, and then pounded me on the head and upper back with the sticks. “He must have thought I needed a LOT of holy water,” I whispered to Oon.

After watching him douse a few other worshippers, we stood up to leave.

On the way home, Oon joyfully shared her feelings and beliefs about Buddhism. She sticks to the commandments: Don’t lie. Don’t steal. Don’t commit adultery. Don’t kill or harm living beings. Don’t drink alcohol. I told her I might struggle with that last one a bit, and she reassured me that you’re allowed to enjoy your beer or wine; just avoid intoxication. Sounds like a good plan.

Evenings like this are why I love living abroad. I could always pop over to a temple on my own, but experiencing the ceremony with Oon and sharing in her passion was profoundly moving and great fun.

Daily Life, India

Tibetan spiritual leader tells students in search of peace: Just relax

November 9, 2012 Sharon Leave a comment

The most important Tibetan spiritual leader, after the Dalai Lama, visited our school today as part of our Peace and Global Citizens initiatives. His Holiness the 17th Gyalwang Karmapa arrived with little pomp and sat in the theatre, answering questions from students. Born into a family of nomads in Tibet, Ogyen Trinley Dorje was recognized as the 17th Karmapa as a young child. In 1999, at the age of 14, he left Tibet to meet the exiled Dalai Lama and other teachers in India.

According to the website kagyu.org,

In the case of an enlightened being, rebirths are taken consciously, motivated by a desire to benefit all living beings and made possible by the depth and clarity of an individual’s realization. The first such reincarnation (tulku) was recognized in thirteenth-century Tibet. His name was the Gyalwa Karmapa, “The Victorious One of Enlightened Activity.” Thereafter, he continued to return, generation after generation, until the present seventeenth Karmapa. The Karmapa is said to embody the activity of all the buddhas of the past, present, and future. Citing ancient texts, traditional histories trace his lives back for eons and continue it forward into the distant future.

The Karmapa held several Q&A sessions with students from all grade levels; I attended his session with some middle school kids. The Karmapa leaned forward in his chair to address the students, carefully mulling over each question.

One student asked, “What is the most important value of the Tibetan culture?” The Karmapa responded in a low voice, interspersed with English words, and shared with the audience by a translator, Sister Damcho, an American who lives in a Dharamsala nunnery and frequently works with the Karmapa. “The life that we live is a pretty simple life,” she quoted. “We put at the center of our life altruism, the wish to benefit others. We’re pretty direct and straightforward. I think if you look at Tibetan culture, the most important values at the center of our culture are loving kindness and compassion, and we develop these feelings not just for other human beings but for all forms of life. Whatever we do, whatever activities we engage in, whatever studies we do, we always try to put the value of other beings in the center.”

He was open about neither choosing nor necessarily having fun in his role as Karmapa. In response to the question, “How did you decide to be a Karmapa?” he shook his head and laughed. “Decide?”
Sister Damcho translated: “So actually, I did not decide to be a Karmapa. In the west, people have a lot of choice and generally you decide what you want to study and when you finish your studies, you decide what job or career you want to have, but that was not the case with me. When I was 8 years old, I was just a normal boy. I played with other kids. I had a normal boy’s life. Then some people came and they told me, ‘You’re the Karmapa.’ At that time, I didn’t even understand what the Karmapa was … I thought, if I’m the Karmapa, I’ll probably get a lot of toys. I found out later being a Karmapa is not all that fun. It’s a lot of work and a lot of responsibility and a lot of studying. So becoming the Karmapa was not something I decided. It was more like something that just fell from the sky.”

My favorite bit of advice was the Karmapa’s response to the question, “What can we do to maintain peace?”
“We have so many different things that we’re constantly doing, and there are all these changes going on all the time, so it’s really not that easy, is it? I would say, to put it simply, just relax. Just relax and stay quiet. Generally speaking, this is a difficult question. For you, as kids, to be able to make peace, maybe don’t make it too complicated. Make it simple. Just relax.”

Arriving at AES, the Karmapa gets mobbed by the paparazzi (aka our director, principals and other interested onlookers).

Getting escorted to the theatre.

Speaking to the students.

I feel privileged and grateful today for my school and its commitment to fostering peace. What an honor to share a bit of time with this humble man.

Daily Life, Laos

Loi Ka Thong – looking for peace in all the wrong places

October 28, 2010 Sharon 2 Comments

One glimpse of the crowds at last year’s Boat Racing Festival was enough to send me straight home, where I watched the dragonboat races on TV. Later I regretted being such a coward. I vowed to step out of my comfort zone this year to experience one of Laos’ most highly-anticipated celebrations.

The holiday, which is tied to the lunar calendar, fell on a weekend this year. The boat races were scheduled for Sunday, and the Buddhist ritual of Loi Ka Thong would take place Saturday night.

I arranged to join some Lao friends for Loi Ka Thong. Websites, such as Laos Guide 999, set the stage for a tranquil, holy tradition.

Boun Awk Phansa is the last day of the Buddhist lent. It occurs in October, three lunar months after Khao Phansa on the 15th day of the 11th month of the lunar calendar. It is a day of many celebrations, most notably the boat race festival held in Vientiane.
On the first day at dawn, donations and offerings are made at temples around the country; in the evening, candlelight processions are held around the temples and it is the celebration of lai heua fai or Loi ka thong, when everyone sends small lighted ‘boats’ made of banana stems or banana leaves decorated with candles and flowers down the rivers.
These are said to pay respect to the Buddha and to thank the mother of rivers for providing water for our lives. Some believe that the lai heua fai procession is an act to pay respect to nagas that lives in the rivers, while others send the lighted boats down the river to ask for blessing and to float bad luck of the past year away enabling the good luck to flow in. Most towns with a river bank nearby will engage in this lovely ceremony. In bigger towns there are also processions of lighted boats, and the ceremony is more popular especially among young romantic couples. Villagers who live far from rivers set up model boats (made of banana stems) decorated with flowers and candlelight, while others simply light up some candles in front of their houses and do their little prayer wishing for good luck. This colorful rituals have been carried on by Lao people for thousands of years.

We were going to visit a temple, purchase a banana-leaf Ka Thong boat, join the procession to the Mekong and set sail our little boats after blessing the river and asking forgiveness for any eco-wrong-doings.

But first, we had to meet for Indian food in the heart of the festival chaos. The river road in downtown Vientiane was cut off from traffic and lined with stalls selling all sorts of wares usually purchased at a supermarket (and at the same prices). Massive speakers faced off, blaring what I can only assume were the qualities of the shampoo, toilet paper, cooking oil, or other products for sale at that particular stall. Vendors without a swanky audio system used static-y megaphones to promote the free samples, which flowed like … well, like juice, milk, whiskey, beer, soda and hand lotion. Complementing the cacophony, loudspeakers pounded out a steady bass beat with no discernable melody.

Tony and I parked where we always do, a few blocks from the action at Nam Phu Fountain, and then dove in to the melee. At this point, the river road was crowded but not unbearable. With so many storefronts blocked by the stalls, we occasionally had to pause to get our bearings. Finally we found the restaurant, Nazim, and scoffed at the option to eat outside. We eagerly plopped down at an indoor table, happy for a break from the noise (although we really couldn’t escape from the pulsing beat, which created ripples in our water glasses and reverberated through our bodies).

Soon we were joined by Lao friends Lae and Mai (and Mai’s friend, Khanha), as well as our school librarian, Jeannete, and her husband, Basim. I enjoyed the meal and the company, but I was itching to experience Loi Ka Thong.

Jeannete got a call during dinner from some cyclists riding through Laos. “We’re here!” they told her. She and Basim participate in an online organization that finds spare beds for people bicycling around the world. So they had to dash home. Tony also took off (and then came back to retrieve his keys, which he’d left on the table). Finally, the rest of the girls were ready to go.

I made the classic expat faux pas of assuming that because my friends were Lao, they certainly must know how this tradition works. Unfortunately, after wandering aimlessly for a while, I discovered that was not the case. Lae admitted she hadn’t participated in Loi Ka Thong since she was in high school. Mai said her family lived too far from the river, and they only had one bicycle, so participating in the ritual at the Mekong wasn’t feasible.

We ducked in to Wat Ong Teu, only to find we had missed the temple’s procession. Several monks were sitting behind a large table lined with metal bowls. Mai explained that you make a donation, collect a little plate of tiny coins and then drop one coin in each of the 99 bowls to ask for blessings. Cool. Of course, I was chatting the whole time I did it, so I kept losing track of where I had dropped my coins. “Is it bad karma to skip a bowl or to drop in more than one coin?” I asked. They just laughed at me.

Back on the river road, the crowd had reached maximum capacity. We slowly shuffled upstream as the Mekong River – blocked from our vision by market stalls, inflated bouncy castles, towering loudspeakers, and thousands of other pilgrims – rushed past us in the other direction. We reached one access point to the river, where a mob had bottlenecked with their Ka Thongs. The thought of joining them made my heart sink.

Lae received a call from Addie, who told us to keep walking. “It’s much less crowded up by the Mekong River Commission,” she said. And so we did. As we stumbled along, Lae shouted to me, “Now you see why I never do this!”

Eventually, we caught up with Addie, and sure enough, there was room to breathe. Addie had made her own Ka Thong (and many more, which she distributed to family members), so the rest of us purchased some from a vendor. Then we walked across a muddy stretch, descended some steep steps, scrambled down large wobbly rocks to the river’s edge and stepped on to a slippery floating dock. With my long temple-appropriate skirt tangling around my legs, camera dangling from my neck and one hand carrying my Ka Thong like a pizza, I felt quite relieved to make it that far in one piece.

The girls helped me light the candles and a sparkler on my Ga Thong, and then we each took turns offering a blessing to the river and asking forgiveness before reaching down to release our little boats. The strong current immediately swept them away, and the lights quickly blended together in the darkness.

Dripping with sweat, shaking from the treacherous climb back up to the river road, and still reeling from crowd-induced anxiety, I thanked my lovely friends for sharing their tradition with me. It wasn’t exactly what I expected, but I had the same experience as thousands of Lao people on this holy day, and that’s exactly what I had wanted.

It’s still early, and the crowds are thin.