Teaching monks

I write this from the Sunset Coffee Bar in Hikkidua, on Sri Lanka’s south coast. The scenery is perfect, although the wi-fi leaves a lot to be desired.

When I have not been shuttling back and forth between Ambalangoda (the place I currently call home) and Colombo (where my crippled iPhone is still in intensive care), I have been teaching Buddhist monks.

The phrase "teaching Buddhist monks" comes with a few caveats. While it is true I have been working on simple English phrases and sentence structures with monks aged between nine and sixteen, and I have also been doing some basic maths with them, it is also true that I have been slapped cheekily around the face, had ice poured down my back, and been assaulted with a variety of flying kicks and punches.

Admittedly, the ice was extremely welcome. Buddhist etiquette round these parts insists that knees must be covered in the vicinity of Buddhist temples, meaning I have no choice but to wear the one pair of trousers I brought with me - a pair of tight jeans.

Don't wear skin hugging jeans in the tropics.

Shoulders must also be covered, so after an hour of teaching these monks my shirt is usually soaked.

If I'm honest, I'd struggle to complain about the punches and the kicks. These monks are about one-third to one-quarter my size, and so the threat level is low - even when I am heavily outnumbered, as I always am. Having engaged in some monk fighting, I usually finish the day's session feeling like a level boss in a computer game - impervious to the spirited, if futile, attacks thrown at me.


Over the last few days I have become fond of these kung fu monks. In addition to the mixed martial arts, there are hugs at unexpected times - and lots of smiles. I have learned to play their favourite clapping game at warp speed. 

The kid in this picture - Suseela - was the cheekiest of the lot. He borrowed my camera on one of the days and took a load of selfies. Some of them came out really well. I'll miss those monks.

 Note: this post was originally published 22nd October 2016.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dudhsagar Falls

Image
From my position in the travel hammock – bright orange against the endless variations of green within the forest, and the bright aluminium of the MacBook Air – I can hear the constant white noise generated by India’s third highest waterfall – Dudhsagar. The monkeys came close just now – threading through the trees, like a diminutive hit squad – attracted by the smell of cooking. Lentil and rice curry. Robin and Manuel threw sticks at them, while I stirred the pot. They have receded – for now. But they will be back. We arrived last night, having left the Indian tourist Mecca behind us. In truth, Palolem beach was so beautiful, and our beach huts were so cheap, and comfortable, I could have stayed longer. In truth, I could have stayed there forever. So it’s a good thing I had Robin and Manuel with me, to save me from becoming a fully-fledged Goan Beach Bum. We arrived here last night, having spent the day travelling. We only covered 70km from Palolem beach, but our firs
Read more

The Hornbill Mural, Borneo

Image
Following on from our stay on Pulau Tuba, we spent a couple of days in Kuala Lumpur, where we pretty much exhausted what the city has to offer. We goggled at the Petronas Towers in daylight, gorged ourselves on terrific street food, and then goggled at the Petronas Towers at night. Then we flew to Borneo. We were met in Kuching by John -  an affable Malaysian man - who drove us to his modest beach resort, near the small town of Lundu. The place was yet to open to the public. It had been a work in progress for three years - and the end was clearly in sight. There was smart-looking guest accommodation, a pool, a covered dining area overlooking the sea, and a large service kitchen. There was a difficult and neurotic dog called Bonnie, who had been rescued from her previous owner, who had abused and neglected her. As a result of her experience, she harboured a strong antipathy for “local people”, but she was fine with westerners. She spent her days attached to a
Read more