Sri Lankan Journal - Entry #6

The pina colada was awful, but the tuna steak was excellent. Char-grilled and basted in a rich oinion sauce and served with crisp french fries and a small dish of teriyaki dipping sauce. I heeded the guidebook warnings about Third World eating and avoided the fresh greens garnishing the plate. Even if raw veggies themselves are okay, food preparers often wash salad makings in the local, contaminated water. Everybody here drinks cold H2O in two-liter bottles (see picture, previous blog). I also discovered the joys of a local beer called Lion Lager. Had one cold bottle late in the afternoon, then on the way home I stopped at a grocery store to stock up on cheese, bread, and a few liters of the Lion. Now this is getting to be my kind of spiritual retreat...

Spent the evening reading Deepak Chopra's book Buddha: A Story of Enlightenment. It's an historical novel and quite entertaining, but I'm thinking the Buddhists would likely be a little scandalized at the way young Siddartha is portrayed. Some good information mixed with historical fiction, nevertheless. I did not know Buddha's father had been such a warrior king, and that his goal for his son was to be ruler of the known world. How odd, the way one's aspirations for beloved children may come true in a manner wholly unpredictable to the parents. Good read.

I also spent a little time playing video games on my laptop, which adapts quite well to the 220 volt current here. Strange how playing a game I enjoyed back home gives me a feeling of comfort in this interesting yet profoundly diffferent land. For a quick instant my mind flashes on the irony--finding comfort by shooting cyber bad guys with a Buddhist peace center down the block.

Pushba and Karona came by to show me how to hook up the anti-mosquito incense dispenser. It seemed to help a little; I had fewer bug bites next morning. I ate a late breakfast at 7:30 AM local--God knows what time my body thinks it is. Bhante says I can stay in the Colombo area or go inland to Kandy, the second largest Sri Lankan city, located four hours away in the mountains. He emphasizes that the Tanmil Tigers have their stronghold far from that city, so the trip will be perfectly safe. He suggests I take another day to walk the beach and meditate first. He also recommends I buy some sunscreen, politely not mentioning my beet-red face from yesterday's exposure to the tropical sun.

I paused a little while to meditate in the lovely gardens of the Vishva, then ventured forth on foot to purchase a hat and sunscreen, after which I'll head to the beach. Deepak and Buddha are my companions. Tuna steak lunch awaits me. Three-wheel taxi rides will get me there. Little did I know what a wild street experience that would be...

More later.

Sri Lankan Journal - Entry #5

[To begin reading from the first entry, scroll down.]

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Table by the sea at La Voile Blanche, my favorite local hangout. .

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If you look closely, at the bottom of the photo (left) you'll see the notebook from which these journal entries are being transcribed.

.The picture below is the Mount Lavinia Hotel.

.Bhante's driver, Sadath, took me to the fancy and expensive Mount Lavinia Hotel, originally built for the governor in the old days of British colonial rule. I checked it out and discovered it was sprawling, western, pricey, and crowded with European tourists. They charged money to access the beach, and you get a free day pass if you buy the Sunday brunch. It was Sunday, but I wasn't hungry yet. So, I found the lounge and ordered coffee from a bartender in white, then reclined in air conditioned comfort to sip strong java and the ocean below (see picture, above). After about an hour of Western decadence, I decided this was way too far the other direction, so I conned the bellhop into snagging a local three-wheel taxi and we putt-putted away toward the real beach where the locals hang out.

.The beach below and to the north of the fortress resort was full of locals--dark bodies playing in the gentle surf. I walked abouty 45 minutes past fishing boats and lingering tsunami damage. I took off my sandals and went ankle-deep wading along the crest of the incoming tide, then came back to a beachfront bar and grill called La Voile Blanche (pictured above). I am writing this now from the table in the picture while sipping on a pina colada (it's past noon!) and watching the locals play in the surf. Lunch later, probably a tuna steak with onion sauce and french fries. I wonder if I'll get a K-F-S or eat by hand? More later...

Sri Lanka Journal - Entry #4

[Note: To begin this series with Entry #1, scroll down.]
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I looked around the small room and decided I could do this, so I unfurled the mosquito net and started unpacking my belongings. Various members of the Vishva staff shuffled in and out, bringing me a floor fan and a plug-in mosquito repellant device (I kid you not). Then Bhante appeared and announced that they arranged a bigger place for me. They saw I was a misfit for the smallish bed and room, although I was willing to be a trooper in Buddha's army and stay the course. Bhante reported that the Director of Vishva Niketan whom I had just met--a lovely lady with salt-and-pepper hair and a warm smile--graciously offered a second floor apartment in a gated courtyard building just outside the center. (See photo.)


Also without screens or a/c, but lots more room. I dutifully sprayed mosquito repellant on my extremities and crawled under the net, tucking it down under the matress on all sides. The mosquitoes however were not impressed by these defensive tactics and had a good night of munching on my ankles, wrists, and arms. They seem to prefer limbs, like I was a Christian appetizer before going out on the town for a Buddhist main course. I actually rested very well bug bites notwithstanding, probably because of the tube of anti-itch cream I kept inside the netting tent. And that was my Saturday, which because of the weird science of time zone travel (and spending 28+ hours in the air) actually began at Thursday morning 02-19, half a world away, when I left KCMO for the first leg of my journey.

Sunday, February 22, was my first full day in Sri Lanka. Bhante invited me to breakfast with him. He eats breakfast and lunch but not supper, which apparently is typical for monks. Sometimes he will take a little soup in the evening. Also, according to Sri Lankan Buddhist tradition, monks eat first while others wait, sometimes watching like adoring fans. It's actually quite polite, a sign of respect for the office of clergy, but I don't think our congregations would go for it. In fact, some ministers make sure their people eat first before they sit to join them at church functions, although I've never gone hungry at a Unity potluck. Bhante actually broke tradition and ate with me, even though I was perfectly willing to abide by their customs.

Not surprisingly, breakfast was nothing like American style eating. Well, there was bread and butter. The main foods were two kinds of rice spaghetti with spicy lentil chili poured over it. Very tasty. Also garbanzo beans and sliced fruit. Bhante ate Sri Lankan style with his fingers; I asked for a spoon. Seating at meals is quite different, too. Think of an open-sided pavilion—like the kind you’d find covering a picnic area at a public park in the US—only there are no tables. Along the half-wall sides is a concrete bench about a yard deep. You perch on the bench and eat with the food beside you. (See picture, above.) I achieved my customary ½ lotus, which delighted the staff. I actually stayed in that Asian pretzel configuration for a good five minutes before dangling my feet (bare, or course).

We ate and chatted. Bhante introduced the two servers, delightful women. Their names are Pushba (on left in picture, her name means flower) and Karona (right, meaning compassion). Pushba and Karona were laypeople, not Buddhist nuns. They were ordinary, early middle aged women with extraordinary smiles, and everything they did overflowed with friendliness. That is ordinary here, too. I remember thinking, “If the Sri Lankans I’ve met so far are typical, this has got to be the kindest, most gracious nation on earth.” And I would leave the country ten days later with that belief still in place. I met Buddhist and Christian Sri Lankans. I saw Muslim women in the marketplace with their distinctive head scarves--only they were colorful here, reds and yellows and bright green head coverings, not just the black veils of Arab Islam. And I also saw Indian Hindus and mainland Chinese and Japanese, Koreans, and European expatriots--it reminded me of California.

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California...That reminded me: What I really needed was a spiritual lift. So, with Bhante's prompting, I left the Retreat Center for the day and headed for the beach.

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More to follow...