Our Jaded Visit to the Tipitaka Mahagandayone Monastery

I put the name in the title of this blog post so I don’t have to write it more than once.  (Btw, it’s not like any reader will know the difference between one monastery in Myanmar and any of the many others!).

The monastery was well away from the downtown area, and with traffic, it took over an hour to get there.  The driver made one wrong turn (there’s a reason tourists are not allowed to rent cars/drive them), but it was relatively easily remedied.

I think the monks might have been slightly impatient with our slightly delayed arrival (but I don’t know that for a fact) primary because they didn’t get to eat their lunch until we got there around 10:45.  It would be their last meal of the day – monks can have breakfast and lunch, and then that’s it.  I think it has been trademarked as the “Monk Diet,” and if it hasn’t, I see a new weight loss business opportunity!

Unbeknownst to us, our group had donated the day’s lunch, which is a special occasion for the monks.  Instead of having to go door-to-door to gather food for their lunch (apparently it takes up most of the morning, and often means going to 70-80 houses, because some people give none, and many give some food – but not enough) it was provided by the Inspirato group.

So when we arrived, five of us stood in a shoulder-to-shoulder line in front of the many bowls of rice, while five of us stood to the other side to take pictures.  Carol offered to serve, while I offered to take pictures.  I had visions of me spilling rice everywhere, messing up like Lucy in the famous production line scene, but it turns out it was so easy even I could have done it fine.

The monks came single file – it seemed oldest to youngest (at least big to small, and the young novice monks came at the end of the line – they wear white).  And it was a production line – they came forward (about 300 monks total) – and stopped, five at a time, next to the server who corresponded with their place in line.

The monks opened their large bowls, and the servers dumped their smaller bowls of rice in.  Once they had their food, they headed upstairs to the cafeteria, sat down on the floor four at a time at tables.

We took off our shoes, and went upstairs to watch them eat (okay, put it that way and it sounds creepy, but it’s not like it sounds when you read what I wrote. . .unless it was and I’m just fooling myself).  We started with a blessing by the Head Monk, and three of us went over to participate in the lifting of the table.

Each table had a variety of Myanmarian (pretty sure I just made that up) food, and the monks would spoon it into their bowls.  Most used a utensil to eat (some had spoons, some had forks, and hopefully some had sporks!), whilst others used their hands.  While they were not eating chicken wings, I’m still good with it!
Over by one of the doors one monk was spooning out scoops of ice cream, whilst others were taking the full trays and bringing ice cream to the many tables – there were probably 70+ tables of four monks each.

The head monk sat on the floor in the front corner by himself.  Later, on the bus, someone asked Ye Ye how a person becomes head monk, and I almost quipped “the Electoral College,” but sensitivities being what they are these crazy days, I self-edited (yea Glen!).  Not everyone gets my sardonic humor.

We then went back outside, and walked over to another building, where they had laid out the same food at a table (mercifully there were chairs) for us.  So we tucked into the Myanmarican (again, pretty sure I just made that word up) food with varying degrees of enthusiasm (Carol is NOT an adventurous eater when it come to Southeast Asian food).

Carol does not want to become the next Julie van Voorhis, our friend who got sick in India for four days after eating at a five star restaurant.  Like many (all) people, Carol does not handle stomach problems well.

To be fair to my bride, I also eyed the food dubiously, but found most of it (not all of it!) to taste pretty good.  The texture of the food left a bit to be desired, but the taste was spot on.

After lunch, whilst the others moved over to a row of chairs for a ceremony.  (Once I can get pictures uploaded – which might not be till Australia – it will all make more sense).  I went to the bathroom, which, in barefoot, probably now qualifies as the most disgusting trip to a toilet I’ve ever had, toping some memorable ones from port-a-potties at softball tournaments (swim meets – always clean bathrooms!) and my 1984 student trip around Europe.

(Afterwards, when others went to use it, they could carry their sandals to toilet, put them on, use the facilities, come back out, and take them off again to go through the main room to outside.)

Ye Ye’s staff, who came to help and observe, sat on the floor (you sit with your feet aimed 180 degrees away from the monks/Buddha statues – the feet being the dirtiest part of the body).

Several monks, including the head monk, came in and sat on nice patterned chairs on a slightly elevated platform.  We all had ornate tea pots with cups in front of us.

The monks did several prayers/blessings (given my lack of ability in the language of Myanmar, I’m really sure what was said, but I’ll bet it was positive!).  We gave the two novice monks a gift of money to help with the monastery’s needs.  Then, there was a water pouring ceremony during a prayer, in which we slowly poured the water from the teapot into the cup.  The water represents something, but I will be darned if, two days and nine hours of sleep later, I can remember.

The head monk also had each of us come up and gifted us with a small jade bracelet-esque thing.  Ye Ye assured us it wasn’t high quality jade (because that would have made us feel guilty), and that it was meant to bring good luck and health.  I’m for both.  (Now you get the title of the blog post!)

It was very cool and somewhat voyeuristic at the same time.  All in all, I’m quite appreciate to Inspirato for setting this up, because had we been here on our own, we would not have had such an inside look at a monastery.

After the monastery, we bused back to hotel where we had three free hours.  Carol and I got a light lunch to make up for her eating very little, we then hit the pool to cool off.  The pool is an oasis in hot city – surrounded by flowering trees that make it much more beautiful than the average city hotel pool.  I ended up talking at length with Rich, while Carol chatted with his wife.  It was a nice way to relax, and then we took a short dip in the pool.