While I’m drifting down the Rhine on a river cruise, I thought I’d leave a series of out-takes about the Buddhist monk, Bhante, from my memoir, Real People. He met Mr. Bennett and visited Sherborne for the first time in 1973, during my course.
Bhante, a Cambodian Buddhist monk, arrived at Sherborne from India. He came during England’s cold, wet, green, Spring. To be exact, he was The Most Venerable Samdach Vira Bellong Dharmavara Mahathera.
The story was, that one day as Mr. Bennett and Michael Sutton were leaving morning exercise, Mr. B turned to Michael and said,
“Your Bicu contacted me this morning.”
Apparently, Michael’s long sought-after meeting between his two most venerated teachers was about to come to pass. We soon learned that Bhante, as he was efficiently called, would be arriving to teach us “green” meditation.
Preparations were made by cleaning up an old cinder block out-building around the back of the Chapel. It’s internal walls and ceiling were painted a solid vibrant green. Small windows towards the top of the walls were draped in green fabric. The cold cement floor was likewise painted green with cushions lining the walls in anticipation of meditations. A lamp with a green light bulb sat in the middle of the floor.
About Bhante
When Bhante arrived, he appeared to be an indeterminately aged Asian man with shaven head and bright orange robes. He had an infectious smile, often accompanied by a knowing chuckle. He ate in his room once a day and then only what was offered to him.
We learned that he had not always been a monk but had come to this later in life. Inexplicably to me, he had left his wife and infant daughter, as well as his career as a judge, to study Buddhism.
After he became a monk, he sought solitude in the jungles of Burma. He told us he had been unharmed by tigers and snakes as he sat entranced in meditative states.
It was also rumored that in his youth he had been quite wild. Even that he’d been a sailor. A few students reported glimpsing tattoos on the rare occasion that he reached an arm out from under his saffron robe.
My First Impression of Bhante
Somehow, I had the mistaken notion that as a woman, Bhante was not allowed to look directly at me or I at him. Because I thought so, it was hard to thoroughly check him out. I would take surreptitious glances at him as we students sat on the floor in the horse parlor at our introductory meetings.
Students were encouraged to make individual appointments to confer with Bhante on an as-needed basis. I eventually made an appointment for a private meeting but was afraid to look at him and don’t remember much of what was said. My initial impression was surprise at the high pitch of his voice and its lyricism.