Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Three Burmese Monks
In Thai the letters WAT mean something like ‘temple’. About the city are numerous WAT.
One spots them by their distinctive style which reaches above an encircling wall and by an gargantuan tree which shades the yard…gargantuan is an understatement for this son of GAEA.
In appearance it is a dozen trunks that are braided together each branching into its own sky garden…but never mind that for this is not a tale on a tree but of 3 Monks who spotted me intruding on the temple grounds and be-wondering how the base of that bole was decorated …there being several miniature temples…each with a multitude of glazed exotic figurines, and within the model a barely discernible image…while all about the tree are forked poles of varying length 7-9 feet on which are festooned banners…a rather un-usual veneration for that son of GAEA…but this as well is not a tale on tree worship… though I rather have a caring eye for a sturdy tree…the likes of a muscular Cottonwood, or an élan Ponderosa, or a towering Sequoia…
but never mind that.
While considering how to snatch an image of this venerated object (one must be cautious about photographing sacred images) I was discovered, beckoned by one of the young Monks flagging his arm, a signal that had me set for an innocent apology and an obeisance …one of those uncommon gestures one sees in the cinema where a party gesticulates, bows the head, while clasping the palms of the hands prayerfully…but this not a tale on the foreigner’s foolish straying in alien cultural settings. It seems the trio simply wanted to be kindly.
I will not describe their appearance everyone recognizes their orange saffron robes worn like the Romans wore their Toga…except to say that their features were quite individual and rather bold in their shaven heads which disclosed a great diversity in the shape of the cranium…a matter I had never so startlingly observed…but again this is not a tale on Bur-mese physiognomy except to say that I was spotted staring on several occasions.
Naturally they were curious on what had me venture onto their compound and which land had my unusual costume…safari pants and a hat with a net…mosquitoes were buzzing… and a brief case…the most notable item being a collapsed umbrella…I have been drenched in several downpours and so since have dangled it…well with that charm in hand there has been no rain…the region of the cyclone being to the north the pelting downpour did not quite reach my path. In my correspondence I always have felt some urge to inform the reader on the status of GAEA’s distemper.
It seems these were quite a curious bunch and so with a strange art of the English language formed queries none of which on first reverberation was understandable. English is an aw-ful tongue to alien mouths. Well when words fail there is all manner of body language… and when that fails there is pad and pen for images…those without either talent risk jour-neying. A Patrolman on the grounds came by to caution that I perhaps was intruding and had best…but the 3 Monks assured him I was quite harmless…which I indeed was…all the foreign press needed was a tale of an American who was pestering Burmese Monks.
Indeed it took some strain for the ear to adapt to the new sounds for English words. I will spare the reader the numerous frustrations…except to note 1 or 2 that had had us groping with guttural sounds. Take for instance sounds that phonetically resemble—acebul. Their question: Was I acebul? Noting I was stumped these refined their pronunciation to—bhacebul. Perhaps if I had followed our national pastime more passionately I would have caught-on quicker…imagine Monks asking about bhacebul. Well I was curious about their interest in bhacebul…and while Monks have surprising interest…all 3 had cellular phones with numerous features… bhacebul?
Now what is there to be said about bhacebul …to Monks I ask you? I told them I was a Dodger fan…that as an immigrant to America…in New York…in an early civil act of in-tegration was obliged to choosing of sides between the National and the American League and being bewildered what that choice represented…and desiring to be loyal…we had been cautioned about loyalty on Ellis Island…but this is not the moment to digress on immigrant codes except to say the urging of some loyalists had the National League the safer choice… and the Dodgers the most celebrated among these.
Reading the faces of Monks is not easy their expressions are quite enigmatic often … likely due to their spiritual habit which commands some austerity. Well the 3 looked variously bewildered, rattled, dejected…and quite prodding with bhacebul! They then had switched abruptly to the Dali Llama (which the ear picked-up on after only three iterations) each Monk with his own intonation. Naturally I was acquainted with their symbolic Leader. Indeed I thought it respectful to mention their Leader was rather re-vered by none Monks as well…and so yes I was among those who…and then there it was again—bhacebul! Well not all interests of their venerable Leader are open know-ledge to the uninitiated…why not bhacebul?
After an interval of silence…an interval that had one feeling that something here was amiss…and that perhaps it was a suitable moment to grin and say how nice it was to meet and that the mosquitoes were rather nasty…which they were but seemed to avoid the three Monks…and that it was rather fine grounds and their Temple really was quite magnificent … which it surely was…and to which I can speak with authority having seen my share of Buddhist Temples… Buddha’s…and….yes bhacebul. Well I saw that is what they desired to hear—pheacewul!
And there you have it—pheacewul. Which naturally anyone that has an ear for a Monk’s English articulation means—peaceful!
Well an American prophesing to be peaceful is soon well treated. For the next hour I was escorted into their inner sanctums, offered e-mail addresses…yes, Monks write e-mails … indeed even the Leader has an e-address…oh, and naturally there were several more les-sons in phonetics which are to be written about at some later date.
