If I recollect my fading memories in the most nostalgic way; longing the friendship we had, it was one of mellow and slow-moving days toward the end of summer time in Nara; the city I personally find certain resemblance of my hometown, Mandalay, in many different ways. For instance, people of Nara speak distinct dialog different from Tokyo for that one could only fathom how the culture of past monarchy in the region still influence in ordinary daily life.
We were just strolling along side of deer park where deer were freely roaming around occasionally in close contact with human visitors. Her eyes were glistering with excitement and full of curiosity about me. On contrary, I was quite and shy one at the receiving end by simply answering the series of questions throwing at me without seemingly to stop.
“Chris-san. were you a monk when you are young?” she asked.
“You mean novice?” understanding what she meant to ask and confirming her question.
She said, “yes”. To my pleasant surprise with a bit of bewilderment and amusement to her question while my mind was processing every possible social misfortune whether I had revealed my protected childhood memory to someone she might know.
I asked. “How do you know?”
“Every Burmese men have to be a monk when they are young, right?”. She must have done her homework about Burmese men and culture.
“Ah. so desu ne”. I confessed in her language while my mind was slipping away to my childhood when I was a novice simply following the cultural footsteps of every Burmese boy who entered into novicehood at the age of 10 to 20 years old.
I was only 10 years old when I became a little monk wearing saffron robe.
It was a very important ceremony and big event for my parents. A month before the ceremony, I was sent to monastery in order to understand Buddhist teachings and learn prayers.
My grandmother used to offer rice, and occasionally combine with dishes whenever there was a special event, to every monk who stop by at the front door of our house every morning before I was born. I was told that one of those monks who received my grandmother’s offering became the head monk of the monastery after a few years. He also became a regular monk receiving my mother’s offerings every morning after my grandmother retired from her daily routine.
The time comes when I reached 10 years old, my parents started planning to ordain me as a young monk along with my sister and cousins. Girls will be prepared for becoming nun, but all focus are on boys who be entering into young monkhood officially. Head monk took me as his disciple and guided me with moral principles according to Buddhist way of teaching a month before my ordain ceremony.
It was a very foundation of Burmese society how religion and ordinary citizens are knitted together. It can also be reckoned as a sense of how Buddhist monk repaying their obligation to the families of offering charitable deeds to them, and therefore in return they preach Buddhism and teach Buddhist way of living.
I was regarded as the most intelligence one among other disciples by head monk. I could recite Buddhist prayers both basic and advanced ones. Buddhist prayers are composed of Pali language, classical and liturgical language of the Theravāda Buddhist canon, a Middle Indo-Aryan language of north Indian origin akin to Sanskrit dialects. The same way how Catholic monk reciting prayers in Latin.
It was a grand ceremony according to our lower-middle class family standard. Free flow of foods was served to everyone along with family, friends, and relatives who came and observed me as a little boy going to become a novice. My head was shaved in front of the monk while my parents were holding each end of the shaving cloth to collect my hairs. Once my head was shaved, I squatted down in front of the monk and held my saffron robe and reciting prayers in a way of asking permission to wear the holy robe. The head monk gave his blessing, and I was officially ordained to be a novice.
I was sent to a monastery at the age of 10 after the ceremony, and it was the first time I was supposed to sleep away from my parent especially from my grandmother. I did not know how to handle the loneliness. I was just only a child among other novices whom I did not know anyone. Traditionally, I was expected to stay in monastery at lest seven days but as soon as the light went down, I run away from monastery and went back home to sleep with my grandmother as usual. The next morning, I was playing with my friend outside of my house. My holy saffron robe was gone, and I became a layboy again. I do not know how much money my parents spent for that day just for only I lasted one night being as a novice.
To this day, Buddhist Burmese men are still regarded and expected to be a novice or monk at some point of their life. Some goes extra length and never come back to become a layperson again. Some only latest a few hours. Nevertheless, there are always certain people, outside of Burmese culture, who are always fascinated about Burmese culture and our way of thinking
