Life in a Thai Monastery (Part 3 of 7)

What a friendly, carefree monk! We felt at homelooking for food, adding casually that a monk and
already, but he wasted no time in getting down tonun were both presently taking anti-rabies shots
business. He asked me to remain in the courtyardafter being attacked on the porch of the sala!
for a moment while he and the other monkWell . . . I was relieved to hear that rabies shots
escorted Janet to the nun's section. Before theywere available, but not too thrilled about rabid
left with her, the British monk asked if I wanteddogs running loose all over the place.
to say goodbye. . . . Hmm. Why should I sayWe continued about a hundred yards on a narrow
good-bye? Janet and I were staying at the sametrail through a green cave of dense foliage with
monastery, weren't we? But I did as hetropical flowers spilling out of bamboo thickets;
suggested and said good bye. (You should neverwhich seemed to be welcoming me, and then,
second-guess a British monk).suddenly, there it was - my personal little kuti! I
As I watched her disappear into the trees, which,had been picturing it in my mind for months, and
by the way, happened to be my last personalit looked simply wonderful; quiet, peaceful, just
contact with her for months, I thought back tothe thing for an itinerate loner like me.
the train ride, and how apprehensive she wasBy Western standards, it was tiny, only six feet
when she noticed the small, thrown togetherby seven feet, but more than enough room to
shelters in the rice fields that farmers used asstretch out. It was made of sturdy timbers and
protection from the monsoons. She was certainperched on stilts seven feet high to keep out
that we would end up living in one of these flimsysnakes and ants, with ten steps leading to a small
huts that afforded zero protection from snakesporch. Inside were a few pictures tacked to the
and creepy things, and I was right, she waswall, apparently from a previous occupant - an
scared to death.autopsy photo of some poor chap cut from top
But not to fear; her first kuti (hut), although older,to bottom, (a monk's aid for contemplating the
was substantial, made of timbers with a tin roofbody), a picture of a Buddha image, and a picture
and perched on stilts for protection against herof a lotus blossom. There was also a small,
anticipated despicable critters. Her fear howevercut-in-half tin can that I later used to heat a few
was not entirely without foundation; an activetablespoons of water over a candle to shave with
family of seven geckos claimed the hut as well,every morning. Probably what the prior tenant
causing her to lay awake the entire first nightused it for. I mentally thanked him.
curled up in a rigid, fetal position being careful notMy kuti came complete with two shuttered
to touch the mosquito net that hung from thewindows, to keep out the rain, a mosquito net
ceiling and which she tucked firmly under her littletied to a ceiling beam, and some candles, matches
bamboo mat . . . while imagining things crawling alland incense sitting on an exposed two by four.
over her.Small pans of kerosene were fashioned around
Eventually, the nuns gave her a nicer kuti withthe bottoms of the exterior stilts to discourage
only two geckos, and then finally a new andants, scorpions and termites, and the roof was
beautiful one with only a single lizard . . . but it wascovered with tin, a beautiful tin, the sound of rain
a big one.upon which will remain with me the rest of my
Although Janet and I would see each other at alife. My little kuti was perfect!
distance while attending community meetings,Living at a monastery in Thailand costs nothing, as
meals and so forth, we weren't permitted tolong as you follow the rules - one meal a day,
speak with each other without a monk present.etc., and of course you must be on your best
Those were the rules; established so that nobehavior. Besides the rules, we had to quickly
misunderstandings would arise with villagers wholearn a wealth of cultural things, for example;
supported these monks, a support that reliedexposing the sole of one's foot is akin to
upon mutual trust. The villagers would take careexhibiting one's middle finger, so I soon learned to
of the monks and nuns necessities, and thesit puppy-up, or flat on the concrete floor of the
monks and nuns would devote their lives tosala with my feet curled demurely underneath -
nothing other than conquering their kileses (greed,no furniture or pillows to sit on at Wat Pah
hatred and delusion), and finding enlightenment.Nanachat! Just wood, concrete, and the jungle
The monks and nuns were the villagers' ideals.floor.
The British monk returned after getting JanetThe regional police station would subsequently hold
settled in and handed me the traditional small,our passports, which we cheerfully surrendered
rolled-up bamboo mat that would serve as myupon arrival. We couldn't have cared less; our
sleeping and meditation rug, along with an old,intention was to stay forever in this paradise that
dinged aluminum teapot that was my wateroffered such a rare opportunity to meditate with
kettle. After a brief stop to fill the kettle at thelittle disruption.
water barrels, he began escorting me to the farThe smiling British monk wished me luck, then
side of the monastery.turned and disappeared down the trail. I waved,
As we were walking along, a mangy dog with awhile at the same time glancing nervously in all
missing ear and absent clumps of fur ran into thedirections for signs of snakes, scorpions, or mad
forest not far ahead. The monk pointed anddogs, and then made myself at home in my little
issued a stern warning to stay away from straykuti, that to me was more beautiful than a
dogs that might wander about the monasterymansion with gold-plated faucets.