(This is Part 1 of the article. Read Part 2 and Part 3 here)
Imagine three large ponds in the middle of a field, with raised walkways all around and between the ponds. You can barely see the pond at night, as they are dimly lit by a few candle posts around the largest of the pond – the one in the middle. You now see eighty, maybe ninety, men and women walking in single file around the pond: the men first, followed by the women. They are all barefoot and walking slowly following the pace of the first person in the line. No one is speaking. After a few times around the pond, they stopped. As if on cue, they all turned sideways to face the pond. Still in silence.
Looking at the reflection on the pond by the faint glow of the candles, I can’t stop thinking about what a great scene this would make for a horror movie, right before we drink cyanide and throw ourselves into the pond en masse.
Chuckling at the thought, I quickly remind myself that I am NOT supposed to be thinking. I’m supposed to be meditating while walking – paying attention to my breath, inhabiting my body, noticing each step on this sandy footpath. But I can’t stop thinking about how surreal this scene must have seemed to the outside world.
I couldn’t remember how we decided to go on this 10-day silent meditation course. When my sister told me about it a few years ago, it didn’t hold much appeal. “Too hard core for me,” I thought to myself. Besides, with only 12 vacation days, I would rather spend it somewhere ‘exciting’. A Buddhist monastery does not fit my definition of exciting.
But we have no such excuse now. We have all the time in the world to do things we wouldn’t have done otherwise. Still I worried how we would handle the isolation and the solitude. Would we go crazy? My sister joked that maybe we would achieve spiritual enlightenment during the course and decide to renounce the world and become a Buddhist monk / nun. My only worry was if I would survive 10 days of vegetarian meals. Will I miss fried chicken halfway through the course?
We got there a day before registration day since we didn’t want to end up with crappy chores, like cleaning the toilet. Our plan was to stay at the main monastery that is affiliated with the retreat center, right across the highway. As soon as we entered the gate, a man told us to go to the information desk, where a Thai lady dressed in a white blouse and a long black skirt (Thai monastic attire for lay people) greeted us and asked if we were there for the 10-day course.
She asked for our passports and explained that this was not the ‘real’ registration. She told us about the pick-up truck that would take us to the retreat center tomorrow morning at 7am sharp, and that all our questions would be answered there. She then showed us the dormitory for the men and women. That’s right. For the next 10 days, Gabriel and I would be together, but apart. He would be living in the male dorm and I the female dorm. We would see each other, but we weren’t supposed to communicate or acknowledge each other. This would be interesting, I thought.
All my worries turned into full-blown anxiety when I saw what the dorm looked like. I had been told that the accommodation is ‘basic’ but I was not prepared to walk into a 3×5 dorm room with cement floor, cement bed (a platform made of cement), a straw mat and a wooden pillow. In case you have never seen a wooden pillow, think of a thick rectangular wooden block with a semi-circular cut out on the top end. The room was old and dusty. There were spider webs and wasp nests in various nooks, and a trail of ants under the door leading to the far end of the room. There is no fan in the room, and no privacy either. The rooms are walled off from each other, but the top part of the wall is made of cinder blocks with ventilation holes. I could hear everyone and everything that was going on in the dormitory.
On that sleepless night, I heard one woman speaking on the phone to (I assume) her husband to let him know that she got to the monastery safely. I heard the woman in the room next to me tossing and turning, similarly unable to sleep. I heard a few girls complaining to each other about the heat, the lack of fans and wi-fi in the dormitory. Yet another girl was telling her friend that she’s nervous about the retreat.
Perhaps it was a good thing that all of us could hear our neighbors. There was comfort in knowing that we all shared the same anxieties and worries — that we were not alone.
The next morning we walked to the retreat center, a sprawling estate with multiple dormitories and meditation halls scattered throughout the compound. Trees of all sorts (palm trees, Boddhi trees, flowering trees, banana trees) have been planted all around the property, providing much-needed shade for the hot summer heat. Sandy footpaths connect the buildings. There are two primitive hot springs (one for men, one for women) at the edge of the property where a small stream runs.
But before we were officially registered, they asked everyone to carefully read a booklet explaining the rules of the retreat. Participants have to follow a strict daily routine that begins at 4am and ends at 9:30pm for 10 full days. There will be 3-4 sessions throughout the day consisting of dharma talks (sermons about Buddhism) followed by guided meditations, interspersed with short breaks for meals and chores (or nap/relax). Participants also have to follow the eight precepts that Buddhist monks undertake:
- No killing of living beings – i.e. only vegetarian meals will be served and try not to kill any bugs, including mosquitoes
- No stealing
- No sex / sexual activities (not explicitly stated, but I think it includes onanism)
- No incorrect speech – i.e. gossiping/lying. In our case, no talking and interacting of any sorts. Any eye contact / hand gesturing / communicating with hand signals are also discouraged
- No alcohol/drugs/smoking
- No food after noon – just breakfast and lunch; not a bad deal if you practice 18/6 fast like me
- No dancing/ singing/ music/ entertainment/ accessorizing/ perfumes/ make-up
- No luxurious beds or bedding – hence the straw mat on wooden platform and wooden pillows. I cheated on this one by using an inflatable mattress pad and pillow.
We are also to surrender our ‘distractions’ – mobile phones, laptops, books, newspapers, anything that can potentially distract us from the present. Although we’re allowed to write notes about insights/ideas, we’re not encouraged to write long daily journals (as it takes away from the present). You can’t check your phone or leave midway through the course, so they really want you to settle your affairs in order before you go in.
It occurred to me that if Trump declared World War III, we wouldn’t know anything about it until it starts impacting Thailand.
After the registration, the retreat coordinators took the men and women separately around the estate to point out the various locations: the dining hall, the meditation hall where we would be spending most of our time, the ‘exercise’ hall for us to do morning yoga, and the dorms. The room setup itself is similar to the dorm we stayed in the previous night: concrete walls and floors, small room with wooden platform that serves as our bed.
Next, they showed us the communal bath hall with a large cement container in the middle. You’re supposed to stand around this shallow cement well, grab a scoop of cold water with a small plastic container and use that to shower. Not that I demand a luxurious shower stall with marble walls and rain shower head , but this is a throwback to ancient times before we discovered plumbing. I was actually surprised none of the girls dropped out after seeing the bathroom. Oh, and we’re also supposed to shower while we’re covered (in a sarong) for modesty since we’re all going to be showering together. I had considered the idea of not showering for 10 days and using wipes to wipe down essential areas. I abandoned this plan after day 1. Even without moving much, the heat and humidity still make one sweaty and sticky and gross.
“So,…” a girl raised her hand. “Where exactly do we shower?” she asked the coordinator, still not understanding that this is going to be our bathroom the next 10 days. Peering inside the cement well, I tried not to pay attention to the geckos and their excrements all over the inside and outside of the well. I didn’t mention this to anyone either when I saw a few girls brushing their teeth with the water from the well. I figured that what they did not know, wouldn’t kill them.