Sixth Intensive Buddhist English Course
Che's Report

What did I expect from this trip to Bodh Gaya? What did I think it would do for me? What did I think I would get from it? How did I expect it to affect me?

Trying to think back to a month and a half ago, before the trip, and relive whatever anticipations/apprehensions I had as I sit down to write this report, I realize that, whatever the answers to these questions might have been, they would fall far short of the truth: nothing at all could’ve prepared me for this trip, and it was nothing at all like what I expected.

First of all, at the risk of sounding selfish, I want to say that, honestly, this trip was a pilgrimage for me, first and foremost. I saw where the Bodhisatta practiced austerities for six years prior to his enlightenment; I saw where he finally was enlightened and became the Buddha; and I saw where he preached his first three sermons: and, that was all well and good. But, far more importantly, I saw the people to whom he preached; I saw the land that reared him and them; I saw the ignorance and suffering of the people, and realized why he formulated his teachings the way he did; and I saw the modern struggle of Indians who are trying, once again, to use the Dhamma as the vehicle for their social and spiritual liberation. This trip, more than anything else, made the Dhamma something very real for me; as opposed to just being an abstract philosophy from 25 hundred years ago, I saw very clearly what this Dhamma was designed to do: free people from all their suffering.

The Class

I had never met monks from Myanmar before; I’d read just a bit on the Burmese tradition, but just a bit. I knew they were renowned for their mastery of Abhidhamma, which was never too popular at Suan Mokkha, in Thailand, where I’d studied, but that was all I knew. Well, all I knew had nothing to do with reality, because who I met was a diverse group of young men and boys from a small corner of the country who were working to overcome a disenfranchisement I could have never imagined if I hadn’t seen it myself: people who were so starved of education and exposure that,...well, let’s just say that it was staggering. I just threw myself into the class and, by about the half-way mark everyone--all the teachers, all the students--we all realized that they we were giving of ourselves on both sides of the podium: they were putting themselves, their futures, those of their people all on the line, so how could I give anything less? It was hot, it was trying, it was hard, it was long and tiring, it was frustrating--what can I say? It was beautiful!

It’s three weeks, three plane flights, and two countries later, and I still haven’t touched the ground yet: I’ll probably be ruminating a while yet with this one. Ken and Visakha, thank you so much for a trip that has changed my life.