Saffron Days in L.A. (eBook)

Chapter1: The Robe Ithad been two months since I ordained Sunanda. It is not an easy adjustment tobecome a Buddhist monk. It was especially difficult for Sunanda, who was notonly a Westerner, but was born and raised in the Jewish faith in Beverly Hills.He had not been brought up around monks, or in a culture that knew about,incorporated, and honored the sanghaasan essential part of society, as it is in most of Asia. Sunandahad been struggling quietly with a few issues, and he thought I had notnoticed. I decided to wait for him to come forward to ask for help, knowingthat he needed to choose his own time. As the waters of his frustration rose,the dam holding his silence eventually broke on a clear early sunrise in thespring. Sunandausually came to my room in the morning to pay his respects to me as his teacherand abbot, a tradition he seemed to enjoy and appreciate. Even though he wasalways friendly, he was often quiet and usually spent only a few moments withme, eager to begin his daily work. On this particular spring day his face wasfull of concern and question, and he stayed with me longer than usual. Hesuddenly shouted out loud, 'Bhante!' The force of his voice, comingfrom such a usually quiet monk, sent a shock wave through the room. I turnedand looked at him with amazement. 'Bhante!'he called out again. 'I think I have to give up my robe. I have to leavethe monastery!' Sunanda'seyes were downcast, and I could tell that he was having a difficult timegetting up the courage to face me. I knew that this was the time to talk atlast. 'Sunanda,' I calmly said, 'please tell me what's on yourmind. You are obviously troubled. Perhaps I can be of assistance to you.' Helooked at me with trepidation, like he wished he had not spoken out soabruptly. 'It's OK,' I said. 'Please feel free to continue.That's how we learn. There is nothing you could say to me that would shockme.' Sunandalooked at me again for reassurance, and I nodded. He took a deep breath andbegan. 'Bhante,I am so embarrassed about what I am going to tell you. Since I was ordained acouple of months ago, I have been harassed endlessly. People yell out names,whisper as I pass, ask me if I forgot to change my Halloween costume! They say,'Hey, are you a pumpkin?' They have kicked me on the bus. Sometimes I think Iwill be beaten up! I am afraid to go outside. How can I live this way, Bhante?I don't know what to do.' Sunandawas starting to sob, thinking about the abuse he had endured. I am sure he wasalso thinking about the possibility of giving up his vows. He was a devotedBuddhist monk, and I could well understand the pain he was feeling. 'Mydear Sunanda,' I said, in a reassuring manner. 'You are not alone. Ihave suffered the same treatment on many occasions. Sunandalooked up at me, absolutely startled. 'You what?'hesaid with widening eyes. 'How could anyone abuse someone like you?' 'Well,I will tell you, Sunanda. I'll share a few stories with you and then you'llunderstand.' Sunandanodded and then moved closer so he could hear me better. He obviously didn'twant to miss a word of what I was about to say. 'Sunanda,a few months ago I was traveling with Bhante Sumedha and Nanda from Los Angelesto Berkeley. Do you remember that trip?' Sunandanodded his head and I continued. 'Westopped at a rest area to go to the bathroom. As I was going into the men'sroom, a man stopped me and shouted, 'Hey, this isn't the women's bathroom!' Iignored him. Then again he called out, 'Hey, lady! Don't you understandEnglish? This isn't the women's bathroom!' 'Iremoved the knit cap on my...