Apr 2007

Our last day in Nha Trang, we splurged and treated ourselves to a trip to mud baths. We sat in a tub full of liquid mud and had the whole experience documented by an itinerant photographer! After the mud baths, we sat in the late afternoon sun, waiting for the mud to dry. Then we rinsed off the mud (or tried to rinse off the mud) and headed to a tub filled with hot mineral water. All around us were similar tubs of various sizes. There were mostly Vietnamese people, but some groups of Westerners as well. Then we went to the mineral swimming pool and paddled around until the final stop on our afternoon of self-indulgence--massage.

The massage therapist who drew the short straw and got me was a 20-something-year-old, probably from south Vietnam, although we actually didn't talk much. After hearing for years about the joy of having someone walk on your back, I finally experienced it for myself. She climbed on the massage table and started walking up my legs and onto my back. Every few steps, she'd stop, dig her toes into my back and crack it. Massage and chiropractic all in one! Then she turned me over, massaged my face and head and proceeded to crack my neck.

Earlier in the morning, the delegation was treated to a ferry ride over to Bamboo Island and the Vinpearl resort. Thay had been invited there, and we all accompanied him over. We were given a tour and then taken to a huge air-conditioned auditorium. The resort representative made a few remarks and then the exchange of gifts took place. As always, Thay offered a gift of his calligraphy.

Then Thay went on to tell us about the calligraphy. He sat at a small table on the large stage and, in his very calm and quiet voice, recited to us a line of poetry from a Vietnamese Zen master. The gist of it is this: the silk thread from the stem of the lotus can bind the tiger.

When the stem of a lotus flower is broken, there is a filament inside that holds the pieces together. This thin thread is very, very strong. A friend here told me that, in Burma, they actually harvest the fiber and weave fabric from it. In any event, the significance of this line of poetry is that our habit energies are strong, like a tiger. Our practice, which is gentle but strong, like the thread of the lotus, can calm and control the tiger.

We were all refreshed by this short and unexpected Dharma talk, even those of us who had thought we were going to be treated to a few hours on the beach at this resort. Instead, after the talk, we went to a cable car station and climbed aboard gondolas for the trip back to the mainland. It was a beautiful trip back across the water and is apparently the longest cable car in the world.

Today, we got up early and flew to Hanoi for the final stop on this segment of the trip. About 40 of the lay delegation traveled with Thay and the monastics. It was a treat to be with them, especially away from the craziness of the photographers who follow Thay everywhere.

It is good to be back in Hanoi, which feels a bit like home. It is cooler here and overcast. The traffic is horrible, and the pollution is stifling, but it is still a pleasure to be here.

On Friday, the heat, frustration of travel, changing schedules, close quarters, and fatigue seemed to set in for many of us. For much of the day, things seemed discombobulated, out of sync. But a good nap, some cool drinks, and a walk around town restored our spirits.

Nha Trang, like most of the cities in Vietnam we have visited, seems to be on the verge of an economic boom. There are numerous large hotels being built within a short distance of the beach. What was once a sleepy fishing village is now a destination for tourists from Asia and from the West. There is good diving here, so we see dive shops and companies offering outings. The beach is lovely, wrapping around a bay and looking across at mountains that seem to rise straight out of the sea. I haven't been in the water yet, but I'm told it's wonderful—very warm, which is wonderful by my standards! It seems the currents are also strong.

This is the first place I've seen a lot of litter. One of my friends here, who lives in India, said it was the first place she'd been that reminded her of India in that way. It would seem important, if Nha Trang really wants to capitalize on tourism, that they find a way to stem the tide of litter.

We went this morning to Long Son Pagoda, which was founded in the late 19th century. There is a huge white statue of the Buddha at the top of a hill on the property. He gazes out over the city and can be seen from many places down below.

The abbot of Long Son is an old friend of Thich Nhat Hanh, and many greetings were exchanged between the two octogenarians. There was clearly a great deal of affection. At one point, Thich Nhat Hanh commented that the abbot had been “a cute novice,” and that even now that he was older, he was so fresh and lively that he could “take a bite out of his cheeks,” which, in fact, do look a lot like apples. We were served lunch there today. Two soups, one warm and one cold...fresh pineapple...a salad of mushrooms with tomato sauce...vegetables...fried tofu croquettes...and the most divine coconut buns for dessert. As with all the temple food we've enjoyed, this was prepared with so much love that you could taste it!

The cathedral, which we visited yesterday, is also built on a promontory. Mass was taking place as we arrived just after 5, so we enjoyed a little of the beautiful ceremony, which concluded with some of the congregation walking out to a small alcove with a statue of the Virgin Mary to pray before leaving.

This afternoon, I've had some time to go back through the notes I've taken during some of Thay's Dharma talks. Much of the time, I just listen—a practice we call “Dharma rain,” just soaking up the teaching the way the earth soaks up the rain. But sometimes, the teachings are so wonderful, that I just have to make a note or two. Here are a few excerpts. If you do not understand them, treat them like Dharma rain.

Anger is like a fist. Mindfulness is like an open hand that can embrace it, like a mother who drops everything to attend to a crying child. We should acknowledge the suffering and embrace it. This is our practice.

We are like clouds. Clouds are not born, nor do they die. They can change form. They can become rain or snow. But they do not die. The cloud is in our tea, as water. The cloud is in our bodies, as blood. In the relative/conditioned realm, birth and death exist. But in the ultimate realm, they do not. We think when we die, we will no longer be here. We think when our loved ones die, that they are no longer around, but that is not true. Yesterday's cloud is today's rain. Our loved ones are still there and may be close to us. Like clouds, we manifest when conditions are appropriate and change forms when conditions are no longer appropriate.

Breathing in, I invite my father to breathe in with me.
Breathing out, I feel joy.
Breathing in, I smile to the mother within me.
Breathing out, I invite my mother to breathe out with me at the same time.
The two of us together, breathing in, what great joy.
Breathing out, I invite my mother to breath out with me at the same time.
The two of us breathing out together, such great joy.
Breathing in, I fell well.
Breathing in, do you feel well, mother?
Breathing out, I feel light.
Breathing out, do you feel light, mother?
Today I am here with my father.
Today, I invite my mother to sit with me.
It is a great joy.

(With love to my parents, who are with me here, now, and always.)

Two days ago, we had a temple marathon day. We made a short drive from Danang to Hoi An, which is a World Heritage Site. The town, which was saved from bombing during the war by an agreement between the two sides, is beautifully preserved and, needless to say, a tourist magnet. Our destination was several Buddhist temples.

The first two temples we visited were outside Hoi An. They were quite old--someone said 400 or more years old--and so beautiful and peaceful. All the temples have gardens. Some are large, as at Thay's root temple, Thien Mu, and some are small. But always, there are lovingly tended plants, many cultivated in a sort of bonsai style, although much larger.

The Vietnamese also have a lovely form of water garden that I've fallen in love with. It represents a mountain and is surrounded by a pool of water. These are constructed in basins or small ponds and come in many sizes. There are usually bonsai or small plants placed on the rock, and often small figurines. Sometimes there are fish in the pools. They are so peaceful and lovely.

At each temple, we are greeted by the venerables (the monks who are in charge at the temple). There is always an exchange of gifts, as well. And invariably, we get water, cookies, or a meal.

Our luncheon in Hoi An was at a large temple, and the meal was the most amazing one we've had. Not that every temple meal hasn't been delightful...believe me, they have been! But this one was a feast. The laypeople kept bringing plates of food. Just when I thought, "Okay, now THIS is it," here would come another exquisite platter. We were ravenous, having eaten breakfast at 5 a.m., so it was a little hard to know when to stop. And of course we wanted to try a little of each dish. At the end of the meal, we sang to the laypeople to thank them for their warmth and hospitality.

We had a little time to walk around Hoi An. It's a shopper's paradise. The town is well known for its clothing, and everywhere you look, there's a store with even more beautiful clothing than the last one. Several people had clothes tailored, including Sandra, who got the most divine outfits. (Don't worry, Billy, they were reasonably priced.)

Thay was invited by the owners of a resort outside Hoi An, and the entire delegation enjoyed a couple of hours of hospitality--a luscious buffet of fruit and cold drinks (and the ever-present Vietnamese coffee), a visit to the beach, a swing in the hammock. The monks played volleyball (my guess is that the Western family on the other side had no idea when they got up that morning that in the afternoon, they'd be lobbing the ball back and forth with a group of Buddhist monks!). The nuns went for a swim. It was a nice bit of downtime for all of us.

Yesterday, we deviated from the planned itinerary and took the train rather than the overnight bus. The train (the Reunification Express) was well maintained and the ride was so scenic. It was really the first we had seen of the Vietnamese countryside. Water buffalo, rice paddies, corn fields (yes, corn fields). Children playing soccer. Women and men tending the fields. It was like a moving meditation to watch the scenery.

Now we are in Nha Trang, a seaside resort. Not that we'll do much resort-ing. We have temples to visit!

See some new photos at http://tinyurl.com/326l3h.

It has been several days since I had reliable Internet access. We travelled to Danang from Hue, settling into a hotel that, while friendly, lacks some of the--shall we say?--modern amenities. In any event, we have been too busy to do much besides sleep outside the sangha schedule.

Each day, we have enjoyed a Dharma talk from Thay. The first two days in Danang were marked by an incredible, indescribable festival at Kwan Um Temple. It you think "carnival," that's about as close as I can come to describing the atmosphere. The first night, the crowd was very lively and talkative. Thay had the monastics do a lot of chanting to try to help calm the crowd.

Thay's talk there, and the several he has given since, are marked by such warmth and compassion. Our Vietnamese Buddhist brothers and sisters practice a devotional form of Buddhism, which has its own beauty and effectiveness, but Thay's hope is to introduce the practice of mindfulness and to begin, ever so gently, to show people the simple forms of meditation that he has developed in his work with Westerners.

We have been to a number of temples here. At each one, on at least our initial visit, we participate in a formal procession with the monastics. Local people line the path, and we walk quietly and mindfully. Part of our role here is to embody the practice of mindfulness as much as possible.

I hope that it's clear from my few entries here how very much Vietnam has affected me. The warmth of the people, their gentleness and good humor, are endearing. As a Buddhist, I feel that the practices that Thay teaches will take root here. The quietness and tranquility are definitely present here. They may be buried under a few layers of "progress," but I do believe they are the nature of the people here.

On the tourist-y side, we did yesterday get a chance to do a little shopping in area of the Marble Mountain of Danang. Marble Mountain, among other things, is the site of a number caves where temples have been established. It isn't called Marble Mountain for nothing. There are many artisans in the area working in marble. We were able to browse in a few shops. I bought a beautiful marble Buddha.

Other than that brief shopping expedition, we did go to the central market in Danang. The markets are always an experience! Here and in Hue, the markets are buildings ringed by stands of people selling various foodstuffs. Inside, there are other vendors and, on the second floor, stalls selling fabric, shoes, and ready-made clothing.

On the cuisine front, we have been very well fed. We often eat at the temples, where the food is, of course, vegetarian. One person commented that the food is very sattvic, and it does feel that way. It is light, soothing, and delicious! In some places, the lay people prepare the food. In others, the nuns do much of the preparation. Always, the food is prepared with a great deal of love and mindfulness, and I know this makes the food taste better!

Tonight, a number of us are going on a boat cruise on the Han River. We'll have dinner and be entertained by musicians performing classical Vietnamese music.

Today has been a "lazy" day, meaning I chose not to accompany the rest of the delegation (120+ lay people and 200 or so monks and nuns) on temple visits and outings to the Cham Museum and beach. Our day yesterday was very, very long, and I needed some time to recuperate. Happily, it's acceptable to take a "lazy" day occasionally.

I will stop now. Rather than let this get too long, I'll try to post another entry in a day or so. I appreciate emails and comments on the blog and if I can't respond to them, know that I do get to read them and enjoy them!

April 1st found us making our way to the Hanoi airport en route to Hue. En route, I realized I didn't have my passport. (In Vietnam, as in many countries, hotels keep your passport during your stay. I was too tired when I arrived to offer a Xeroxed copy instead.) The hotel's driver made a quick call. We pulled over to the side of the busy road, and after a quarter hour's wait, along comes a motorcycle driven by the hotel's manager, my passport in his hand!

Arriving in Hue, we entered a different climate zone. It was 34 degrees C! Toasty. Many other group members arrived on the same flight, so slowly, we are becoming a travelling sangha.

The Green Hotel, our new home, is elegant and has all the amenities one could hope for...a lovely pool, a gymnasium, Internet access, restaurants, shops, and, of course, air conditioning. We settled into our rooms quickly. Sister Tue Nghiem greeted us and helped us get oriented. Each of us received a nametag, a grey robe, and a bowl. The grey robe identifies us as lay members of the sangha. The bowl is to use when we have meals at the pagodas.

With two hours of arrival, we were on a bus to a nearby hall to hear Thich Nhat Hanh give a public Dharma talk on power and happiness. Local government officials, as well as many monastics, were in the audience. Thay (the Vietnamese word for “teacher,” which we used respectfully to refer to Thich Nhat Hanh) spoke about the difficulties of power. He talked about the Iraq war and wondered whether George Bush, who has tremendous power, sleeps well at night. I suspect that most of us sitting and listening didn't have a hard time understanding that power is not a path to happiness.

Thay invited one of our fellow lay travellers, Cheri Maples, to speak to the audience about her experience as a police officer and a practitioner of mindfulness. Cheri was taken by complete surprise. She spoke about her work organizing mindfulness retreats and trainings for police officers and other criminal justice professionals and how it is possible to transform attitudes through mindfulness practice, even in those very challenging professions. (More information about this can be found at http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/thichnhathanh/transcript.shtml.)

Thay offered his Dharma talk in Vietnamese. Some of the nuns provided real-time translations for us as we sat on a veranda overlooking the Perfume River. As Thay spoke, the sun set, the bats emerged, and the geckos scampered across the walls.