A Forest Nun in Burma
"When entering the Forest, the
first thing that impressed me it was the deafening noise. I have been in many
forests and mountains but everywhere it was silent in comparison with this. It
was the full moon of April and all animals seemed to be out to celebrate the
summer with loud voices. For months I had wished to go here, but it was not easy do to
so as a nun. Eventually one day, unexpectedly, everything it was arranged in just
a few hours.
Huge trees, high and straight. We
arrived at the place when it was already night. One kuti was made of wood and
bamboo, and there was one latrine and a wooden ground area. This was all. I was
not discouraged but firmly decided to stay there as long as possible.
At first I was dwelling alone in an
open wood tent at the top of the mountain, where it took twenty minutes to trek
from the common areas. There was not latrine here for some time, and “showers”
could be had when one very kind local woman brought a fresh towel along with
the daily food she offered me. Even when it was rainy, or old in winter, or
when illness came, the woman never failed to arrive. Her generosity was
beyond words.
During my childhood, and also
later, I was afraid of being alone in isolated places. Perhaps there was some
infantile fear of ghosts. But during this time I felt happy, really happy…
there was a big freedom. Later I came to learn that local Burmese believed that
many unfriendly ghosts were in fact in this area, and intentionally avoided it
for this reason.
Besides for a necessary visa trip,
I spent the following three years living full time in this forest. Most of the
time I was totally in silence, only doing meditation in solitude… fascinated by
the wild life there… enjoying the incomparable brightness of the stars at
night.
Later, during some months I was in
a little open bamboo hut. When the rain started it was necessary to use the
umbrella to protect me and my bag. It was at this time that I was offered a
real bamboo kuti and a "luxurious" bathroom. Of course there was
still no electricity or running water, but I now had a roof and walls! Still, some
times in summer the water for shower was more similar to mud than to water.
The energy in the forest it was
extremely pure and fresh. Gradually I came to learn about all the beings sharing
this place with me, such as noisy monkeys, big snakes, all kinds of ants,
squirrels, precious birds, owls, first year wild elephants, and even tigers.
The rainy season was long—nearly
six months and so much rain came that the all the roads became inaccessible.
The winter really cold, and often it was entirely without proper shelter, and
sometimes the best one could hope for was a fire during the night.
During the first year, the food was
mostly rice and red beans for breakfast, but the warmth of the local villagers
who gave love in cooking and offering this every day made it delicious to to
me.
The forest is in a malaria area,
and twice I became sick, the last time becoming really weak. The care, warmth, and kindness that I received
at this time was far away higher than the huge trees.
The last night in the forest, many
of the Dhamma workers came to my kuti and one translated the following: "When one person who has engaged
in deep meditation leaves a particular place, it is good to give thanks to all of the
beings that have watched over and offered their protection.”
They then started lighting hundreds
of little candles and incense upstairs (where I used to meditate), downstairs
(where everyday they brought food and offerings for me), around the kuti (where
I walked daily), near the flowers (that with deep love they had planted for me),
and under all the many trees surrounding the area.
First in silence and later with
soft Burmese chanting the area became full of lights, delicious smells and so
much love.
Deeply touching.
Some tears arose to my eyes and
immense gratitude in the heart.”
