Looking for Nirvana. Part 2

Day 2.

So we got to the monastery the next day early morning and found Mutia washing dishes. That is one of the chores that monks and nuns have to do. According to Mutia, sweeping the floor and washing the dishes helps to calm and clean the mind, similarly to meditation.

And so we saw monks getting ready for the ceremony:

Though don’t ask me what the monk in the middle is doing… Special striding ceremony?..

Since being a monk is supposed to somehow help enlighten his family, it’s a big event and honor for family members, thus they come, support and take pictures. Then the ceremony begins with monks and family members (or volunteers) going round the temple:

Then, in the temple they pray and bow:

In case you were wondering, it is totally okay for non Buddhist to bow alongside everybody. It is just respectful.

Then they literally crawl with their knees to the center of the room:

It looks..totally and utterly humble..

Then they listen to the master monk preach:

The preaching lasts for about an hour (sermons in the church doesn’t seem so long now, huh?). The nun sitting next to me was kind enough to write down in English what the master monk was talking about. He was holding the preaching in ancient Pali language in which Buda spoke thousands years ago.

The monk talked about duties of monk novices and their everyday lives. Monks usually get up at 3 o’clock in the morning, shower, eat, do their morning chores, study, meditate, perform ceremonies, do charity, paperwork, etc. They usually have to meditate for half an hour or an hour and then walk for the same period of time. If you would try sitting with your legs crossed for hours on a hard marble floor, you wouldn’t ask why they have to walk… When I asked the nun when do they go to sleep, she just laughed resignedly…. 21,22, 23 ..she wrote. A lot of paperwork and things to do. Life of monk or a nun doesn’t sound so much fun even with the superpowers, does it?

Don’t worry it gets worse. Similarly to Ten Commandments in Christianity, monks have 10 precepts. Although these are applicable only to monks, not to regular people. The harshest of those sound like: do not sing, do not dance, do not listen to music, do not sit on comfortable sofa or sleep in a luxurious bed, do not touch women, do not hug women, do not use perfume or jewelry,  do not eat after 12 in the afternoon… No comments there.

Then the chief monk spoke about human body. Classified it into outside body (hair, skin, etc.) and inside (lungs, liver etc.). He told that body is dirty and smelly (I’m citing the nun who did the translation). Therefore, monks and nuns have to take a shower everyday and learn to be free of their body, not to give in to its cravings and try to reach nirvana. I don’t know how they find the balance between just being humble and actually  despising your own body...

In case you’re wondering, there is a way out. Monks novices are monks until they graduate from Buddhist university (4 years). Then they can choose to disrobe and become a regular Buddhist or to further continue on the path of the monk.

In the end of the ceremony, they receive a brown robe, indicating their new status as novices:

The boys are young, from 18 to 22 years old.

And then receive they packages with toothbrushes, towels, some food etc.:

Now they have no money or other personal belongings. They live from donations, similarly to Christian priests.

Here is the donation ceremony:

Although this donation is special one for the ordination ceremony, as I understood that normal donations are much less bombastic than this one.

After the ceremony, monks went to eat. I wouldn’t blame them if they want to eat a lot before 12! Then they have to fast until 6am next morning. And all the onlookers had to pour water from one glass to the other thinking about good things and then water any plant growing in the garden with this water while making wishes. I have to admit, it felt like a huge blast of positive energy with all the people doing the same act.

After the ceremony, we walked around in the territory of the monastery and then visited a neighboring town of Batu. Since there are no more stories to be told, photos of that coming up next on Facebook!

P.S. no comments=no readers

no readers=no blog... :P

Looking for Nirvana. Part 1

Kids,

In the fall of 2011 one rainy Saturday evening me and Angeliki, intern from Greece, decided to visit a Buddhist temple in Malang. Just so you know, Buddhism is nowhere near the leading religions in Indonesia (1% of people, still gives you roughly 2 million).This story will involve looking for enlightenment, being in the right place at the right time and meeting many strangers which at least for a second had impacts on our lives.

Thus after work (yes, we work on Saturdays) we got into a public transport carrier (it is NOT to be called a bus) which looks something like that:

And yes, they do drive with open doors. If you fall out, it’s your own fault. Just be sure to pay before you do.

Usually these “carriers” are not so empty and you have trouble squeezing your buttocks somewhere between screaming kids and Muslim women too lazy to motorbike and too poor to take a taxi. And it’s never boring in public transport. You can, e.g. play a staring contest with kids (usually kids win) or talk with strangers on the carrier. They aaaalways talk, trust me. That particular night I had the luck to sit between two babies one of which was kicking my leg and the other was pinching my arm. Ahh, that damn romantic and cheaper than nothing (0,2 euro) public transport…

After getting out, we were greeted by the amazing view of the temple at that stormy night:

And also by some Buddhist nuns which are somehow really adept at noticing bule’s (white men in bahasa Indonesia). Common, we’re not THAT different..are we??? They started talking to us and asked if we wanted to see their “headmaster” (I have no clue how the highest Buddhist monk in rank should be called..). So here he is:

 A happy old man. Free of all the physical desires. Or so he should be.

After a short small-talk with the chief monk (later I heard he’s the chief of the chiefs, has the highest rank in all Indonesia or something) we met a nun called Mutia. I’d like to elaborate more on her since she’s definitely an outstanding personality you don’t meet on every corner. To begin with, she was Hindus, then converted to Christianity and then chose the path of a Buddhist monk. On top of that, she studied medicine. An extremely smart and helpful woman who finally found her path.

Here she is, lighting the incense:

She offered us an hour’s worth of Buddhism wisdom and generosity as well as invitation to stay at monastery overnight. Unfortunately we couldn’t benefit from this offer because of host families which patiently wait for their kids to come back home before the curfew. Still, we found out more about Buddhism that we ever would from books.

The guy standing with hands put for prayer besides Budha (cf.picture above) is supposed to be both holy and to have superpowers. If you’re holy, you don’t necessarily have superpowers or the other way around. The guy was a lucky one apparently. Or so I thought until I found out what his superpower was. And it was to transform into a dragon! (naah, please, I wouldn’t take this superpower even if someone offered..) But this superpower was beneficial for him and Budha as, while in dragon form, the guy defeated the other dragon which was plaguing the village.

 BUT apparently there are some monks which have cooler and more useful in everyday life superpowers, e.g., mind reading. Mutia assured us that she has experienced that superpower herself as there are a few monks in the monastery who can do that. She asked us half jokingly if we would like to meet them. Would we? I wasn’t so sure. But damn.. mind reading superpower. Kinda tempting to convert to Buddhism, isn’t it? 

The monastery keeps the cremated remnants of Buddha’s body under the glass: 

The unenlightened skeptic within me was wondering how many more Buddhist monasteries in the world pride themselves in having remnants of Buddha’s body. Doubts aside, the room itself had an amazing atmosphere of calm and serenity. Mutia lighted three sticks of incense which symbolized Buddha, his teachings and the holy path of brotherhood (being a monk or a nun).

Then Mutia told us about the meditation, that monks have to partake in.

WARNING. The picture below depicts atrocities and gore.

Ok ok I know, it is not that bad. Not when you look at it. But imagine that you would have to sit a long period of time, clear your mind of everything around you and contemplate the death and decay of your body for hours. How you die, how your body starts to collect gas, how you rot and decay, how your rotting body attracts animals, the animals and weather contribute more to the decay until there’s nothing more left than a few white bones glinting in the sun… I feel bad only writing about it, and thinking for hours???? The purpose of it is to realize the temporality of your physical body and gradually become free of it, not to be reborn anymore and be able to reach enlightenment.

Since that night we couldn’t stay long, Mutia offered us to come early Sunday morning to witness a ceremony of ordination of 11 new monks novices that happen only once a year.

To be continued….

Fun

I feel the compulsive need to categorize my experiences in Indonesia. And the ones described below definitely falls under “fun”.

Fun in the nature. Waterfall

After yet another out of town tourism conference my boss suddenly decided to be really nice (not that he’s usually bad..) and take me to see a waterfall on the way back home to Malang. This wasn’t exactly planned so we ended up climbing up 1 km up the mountain with office clothes and shoes. Oh yes, we must have looked totally out of context for the normal tourists. Imagine: nicely dressed boss with shirt and tie, perfectly polished shoes and at the same time sweaty from head to toes climbing up the mountain. And asking me to stop every five minutes. Told him to quit cigarettes and coffee … not that he ever listens. On the top he actually decided to reward himself with meatballs from a stall that possibly breached all the hygiene requirements there are. The conversation was something like that:

Boss: “Do you like meatballs?”

Me: “Not really…”

Boss: “I buy you meatballs”.

I just love his listening skills...

And baaack to the topic. Check out the waterfall:

And you might as well take a look at one of the volcanoes:

Fun in the shopping mall.

Massage

Some time ago me and some other interns had a massage in a shopping mall. Probably the most accurate word to describe it would be powerful. It felt like thumbs of steel were slicing through my ribs and backbone. I still felt my back after two days! Remember the movie “Eurotrip”, when one guy forgot the safe word at one place of…hmm, special kind of experiences? Similarly situation happened to me. One American, who has been living here long enough to speak some bahasa Indonesia, told me what to say if the massage was too hard. Needless to say, I forgot the word after not more than two seconds.

P.S. I paid for the back and shoulders massage and got my ass and legs massage included.. According to our American friend, that is totally normal. Not that I’m complaining.

Different kind of massage

Well, this one was for the feet:

http://www.google.dk/imgres?q=fish+that+eat+dead+skin&hl=da&biw=1639&bih=800&gbv=2&tbm=isch&tbnid=_pYTLCsnJ6HgPM:&imgrefurl=http://www.sodworking.co.uk/category/all-countries/singapore%3Fsubmit%3DGo&docid=SCEa7rXaVAeyEM&imgurl=http://www.sodworking.co.uk/wp-content/gallery/kl-singapore/p1030652.jpg&w=800&h=450&ei=GYDYTvryHMbprAfc2uX5DQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=175&vpy=519&dur=300&hovh=111&hovw=198&tx=203&ty=151&sig=101395844449798654266&page=1&tbnh=112&tbnw=199&start=0&ndsp=28&ved=1t:429,r:21,s:0

Special fish which eat the dead skin.

And then top the day with live haunted house and fresh coconut juice. Mhmm.

Fun facts

Fun fact #348: Indonesians don’t use knives, only a spoon in a right hand and a fork in left. Not too difficult to eat this way, not when you compare to e.g. chopsticks.

Fun fact about #349: this is how a normal Indonesian toilet AND a shower looks like: http://www.google.dk/imgres?q=Indonesian+toilet&hl=da&biw=1639&bih=800&gbv=2&tbm=isch&tbnid=tFGa9WHwDMhCnM:&imgrefurl=http://finalaeon.wordpress.com/2007/11/14/our-new-bathroom/&docid=SjAaaLmhKJPAaM&imgurl=http://finalaeon.files.wordpress.com/2007/11/20071113_bathroom.jpg&w=520&h=390&ei=WZfQTvr4Ao7krAfigvDvDA&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=1335&vpy=148&dur=1130&hovh=193&hovw=258&tx=211&ty=80&sig=101395844449798654266&page=1&tbnh=134&tbnw=186&start=0&ndsp=30&ved=1t:429,r:6,s:0. You can see this kind of toilet almost everywhere: schools, cafes etc.

This is how a modern one, the one we have at home,  looks like: http://www.google.dk/imgres?q=Indonesian+toilet&start=62&num=10&hl=da&gbv=2&biw=1639&bih=800&tbm=isch&tbnid=O9LF6aUK4wi5OM:&imgrefurl=http://www.tripadvisor.com/ShowUserReviews-g294230-d1580272-r21448084-Grand_Quality_Hotel-Yogyakarta_Java.html&docid=2AfcAvTY9Y4EUM&imgurl=http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/1c/e6/b9/oh-so-dirty-toilet.jpg&w=550&h=412&ei=LpjQTsbzHMTprQekgZHlDA&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=1335&vpy=484&dur=60&hovh=193&hovw=258&tx=166&ty=97&sig=101395844449798654266&sqi=2&page=3&tbnh=124&tbnw=168&ndsp=35&ved=1t:429,r:16,s:62

Fun fact #350: when you put a new sim card to your phone, you have to provide a lot of information. And I mean A LOT. E.g. passport number, birthday, religion, sex, hobbies and etc. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t have to indicate my hair color…

Fun fact #351: there is a raining season from November till March in Indonesia. So, practically all the time I’ll stay there. During the raining season every morning is clear and bright, with sunshine. Then, around 12-13pm it starts heavily raining and lasts for an hour or two. And then again you have a nice evening.

Fun fact#352: Malang is surrounded by 4 volcanoes. Active ones. Would be fun if all of them erupted at once, wouldn’t it?

Fun fact #352: This is how a Muslim swimwear looks like:  http://www.google.dk/imgres?q=muslim+swimwear&hl=da&biw=1639&bih=800&gbv=2&tbm=isch&tbnid=U62A7UtyCYqQuM:&imgrefurl=http://www.digitaljournal.com/image/47517&docid=K3HX3wNvVB2q3M&imgurl=http://www.digitaljournal.com/img/2/5/7/7/3/3/i/4/7/5/o/Bourkini_Muslima_swimwear_bourkini_nl.jpg&w=248&h=350&ei=hAzWToymEtHIrQee_7W9Dg&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=865&vpy=394&dur=120&hovh=266&hovw=188&tx=87&ty=170&sig=101395844449798654266&page=1&tbnh=150&tbnw=84&start=0&ndsp=46&ved=1t:429,r:29,s:0 I went to buy one with my “mom” since she asked to teach her how to swim. We’ll see how that goes…

Fun fact #353 : When the coffee is too hot , Indonesians simply pour a little bit of it to a coffee plate and drink from it…Trust me, it’s really weird when someone offers you to taste a coffee from… a coffee plate.

And a random fact about my family. Remember when I said that boss calls me Tina? Well, he usually calls three times (Tina-Tina-Tina) and knocks on the door meanwhile. Reminds you of something? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XCy0EgW_od0&feature=related

More on the family, house, everyday life

I got the chance to meet other relatives of my family that live in other cities. Not that I was too eager to meet some Indonesians that speak no English whatsoever, but I didn’t have much of a choice. So we went to Mojokerto (another relatively small city) to spend the day with the family. Needless to say, it was utterly boring for me. And dammit, I really need to start taking money for posing for pictures! Well ok, not everything was so bad, got the chance to get accustomed to Indonesian traditions, e.g. before leaving the house children (well, including me…) have to ask parents’ permission to leave the house. I managed to do that in Indonesian and felt so damn proud! Hehe. Then the grandpa gave me permission and apologized for his house not being too comfortable. Oh, it just reminded me of some houses in Lithuanian countryside plus the in-house praying room/mosque. Then dear grandpas decided to go to a shopping mall, and guess what, praying time came! That meant that we had to look for a mosque in a mall and I had to wait while the whole family prayed while being stared at by some children. And I thought shopping with my grandma was bad enough!

Ok, I’m done bitching, now I want to show you a bit of the house since I assume you’re all curious where  I live.

That’s the living room and you can see the praying room on the left:

And that’s the house:

And I can’t, simply can’t leave out this picture:

Isn’t the little guy cute? Getting ready for the kindergarten! Yes, the uniform is compulsory at Muslim kindergartens. Don’t ask me why it’s pink though.

And this is an example of what we eat. A fish with chili served on banana leaves. I will never ever remember the Indonesian name for it.

And a short news flash, I joined a gym. The gym also includes  sauna, Jacuzzi, and a huge swimming pool. Take a look:

Kinda beats Fitness World for a slightly higher price. Swimming in the dark under palm trees and looking at the stars. Seriously, what can be better? 

High School. Indonesian High School

Since my “mother” is English teacher , she asked me to show up at her school a couple tikes this week to talk about European culture and just to talk, in general. Since apparently Indonesian kids in Malang can see foreigners only on TV this was a big deal for them. REALLY a big deal. You have no idea. We arrived to school early morning by motorbike. Three persons on one. Yeah, lil’ guy who had to go to kindergarten in front, “mother” who was driving and me in the back. Apparently Indonesians are quite economic people, who manage to fit three people on one motorbike. Saves money, saves gasoline, saves the planet… probably doesn’t save that many lives, but anyway.

So, we arrived to school and I was given a tour around the premises with heads turning everywhere I went. I went to say hi in a couple of classrooms and the reaction was literally as if they had seen a Hollywood movie star… I also visited teachers’ room which was just a simple classroom with many desks loaded with books and papers and many shy teachers hanging around. Only a few of them could speak some basic English. Despite that, I got called a Barbie girl at least three times that day…

Then I went to the actual classroom where I had to give presentation and there were only boys, maybe around 20 boys aged 17-18. When I asked the English teacher if this was a special class for boys, she said that they don’t discriminate between boys and girls while composing classes. The thing was, that English is supposed to be a “masculine” subject and that’s why mostly boys choose it. Yeah, I know..humanities and languages=masculine. Wtf? Indonesia, land of wonders.

So I shortly presented where I’m from, what I’m doing in Indonesia and guess what, the teacher had to translate almost every word to Bahasa Indonesia…. Then there was the question time. And the questions were posed in Indonesian again, translated for me in English and then translated back to the kids in Indonesian. Teacher was embarrassed..God damn, she should be!

The next class was the class of my “mother’s”  and the situation was much better, there was hardly any translation needed, I could understands kids’ questions and they could understand me. Also, it was a mixed class.

Who knows me, knows that I’m totally not a kids’ person and I usually have no patience whatsoever to teach. So I was not expecting too much from this schooling experience. I was so wrong. I loved to see how unspoilt Indonesian kids are. They were curious, respectful and actually INTERESTED. They had no clue how life in Europe actually is, but did their best to find out.

One of the most popular questions were how old I am, where I live in Malang and if I’m married. These questions might seem inappropriate for Europeans but are perfectly normal conversation starters for Indonesians.

Fun fact  about Indonesia #347: kids, while leaving the classroom, have to kiss their teacher’s hand. When class is constituted of around 30 -35 kids that takes some…They even kissed my hand as well. And yes, that was weird. I actually talked to one elderly American who works as an English in one of many Malang’s universities. He was also totally freaked out by this tradition. He didn’t mind the girls though. But he feared that he might look like a pedophile to western onlookers who saw young boys kissing his hand and then touching their cheek with his hand. Again, this is Indonesia, take it as it is or leave it!

P.S. I heard that younger classes are protesting that I didn’t visit them...School principle promised to do something about that, i.e. invite me again. At this rate, they should start paying me for this!

So, this is picture of me and the 1^st class with only boys:

This is school’s parking lot. Quite different from Denmark, huh?

The So Called Work

Ok guys, I’d like to tell you more about my work. I’m supposed to help boss at the office with marketing activities, planning, brochures, website and etc. I say supposed because so far I’ve done the normal office work for maybe three days only. The office is being renovated, there are workers going in and out so it’s practically impossible to work. So until the renovation is over, my work is to go with the boss to many tourism conferences he goes to. During one week, I’ve been to three of those.

A conference usually looks like this:

That is, around 40-50 Indonesian guys wearing traditional hats and shirts with traditional patterns and me sitting in front. Yes, in front…. Yes, they do their best not to stare.. Doesn’t really work out though.

The conferences are of course held in Indonesian. Yeah, fun for me. So the first part of the conference I usually spend daydreaming and playing the game called ”find 5 differences between  40 men” and during the second part I have to say something smart about tourism marketing in Malang. Then I have to “test” tourism driver’s ability to answer questions about trips and try to sit in the jeep. Drivers usually do not speak much English making the test even more fun… I have to give the evaluation and at the end shake hands and take pictures with many government officials. If I’d asked money for pictures I’d already be a millionaire. Oh wait, with the rate of Indonesian rupees, I already am!

That is how usually every conference goes. Oh yeah, and they have free food after the conferences at the best hotels!

Testing the jeep:

Fun fact about Indonesia #346 : the handshakes in Indonesia are limp. I read  about it before coming, but it still felt weird in practice when they barely squeezes your hand while shaking it. I probably almost crushed the first hand I shook before realizing that I should just gently squeeze it, since a limp soft handshake is simply polite.