Faxian and Us
Faxian was one righteous
dude. As a Buddhist monk in China during the fourth century, he was concerned
that the monastic community did not have a complete set of Vinaya texts (the
texts that explain the code of conduct for Buddhist monks). Determined to
correct this situation, Faxian decided to travel to India himself and bring
back these precious texts. So in the year 399 CE, when he was 65 years old,
Faxian set out for India with a small group of companions. He would not return
to China until fifteen years later.
According to the famous
account of his journey, he traveled overland, following the silk road routes
through Western China, across desert of Dunhang, through Central Asia, and finally over the
snow and ice-covered mountains of the Himalayas, before finally reaching the
holy land of India. One of his companions died on the passage to India, and
another would die during their travels within the sub-continent.
The Journey of the Eminent Monk Faxian is one of the texts we are
assigned to read for my class in Buddhist Studies at the Rangjung Yeshe
Institute (RYI), in Kathmandu, Nepal. In reading about Faxian, I couldn’t help
but to compare his journey to my own situation, and that of my fellow students
at RYI. Like Faxian, many of us have traveled great distances to a foreign land
to learn something about Buddhism, and possibly with the hope of bringing some
small bit of knowledge back to our home countries.
The students that I have met
at RYI come from all over the world. I was surprised to find many students from the
United States here. The largest group of students here is from Nepal (34
students), and then there are almost as many Americans (30 students). The next
highest groups of students come from China (11), Germany (9), UK (8), Bhutan
(7), and then Canada (5) and Russia (5).
There are also smaller numbers from many other countries, including
Brazil, India, Ireland and Vietnam.
The Nepali students
themselves represent a mix of cultures. Some of the Nepali students come from
Hindu families, some from the Newari Buddhist community, and others from the
families of Tibetan Buddhists who have settled in Nepal over the past
generation.
The variety of students here
makes for interesting class discussions. When we are discussing the early
transmission of Buddhism to China, for example, it helps to hear the opinion of
students from China who can provide context about Buddhism in China today. And
when discussing the intertwined relationship between Buddhism and Hinduism,
it’s always nice to hear from the student from India with a Hindu background.
Of course, unlike Faxian,
the present-day students at RYI did not need to spend a year or more traveling
by foot over vast distances just to reach here. I was able to fly from New York
to Kathmandu in under 24 hours, for example. But many of us have had to
overcome different types of obstacles to arrive here.
One major obstacle for many
students is simply raising the funds for school fees, travel, and living
expenses. Younger students may have needed to convince their parents and ask
for their support. Older students with established careers had to make the
difficult decision to interrupt a career or leave it altogether, and to arrange
to sub-let or sell apartments or homes. In the end, many students will have
spent a year or more in preparation to make this particular journey.
And while the ability to fly
over vast distances in a short time is a great advantage, suddenly dropping
into a different culture can provide its own challenges. In my own case, I
experienced a lot of confusion and disorientation during my first days and weeks
in Kathmandu. I think the common expression for this experience is “culture
shock”.
In those early days I
frequently found myself wandering around Boudha (the section of Kathmandu where
the RYI campus is located) or sitting in my room at my guest house thinking:
“What the hell am I doing here?” And also, “Why did I leave New York? What was
I thinking? Was this really the right decision?” Many other students that I
talked with during the early days were experiencing similar types of confusion.
Like others, I spent a lot
of time early on just figuring out where to find suitable food to eat. As a
Westerner, the risk is eating improperly cooked food is a case of diarrhea. I
experienced my first case of diarrhea within my first few days of arriving,
followed by various colds, flues and other ailments. I also experienced
frequent visits from my old friends: Anxiety, Depression, and Self-Doubt.
Figuring out where to live
was also an issue. Should I try to find a room in an apartment? Should I try to
share a place? Who with? Or should I
just stay in my guest house for a while longer, even though it is more
expensive?
Communication with the local
people of Kathmandu can also be confusing for a beginner. The local people are
generally kind and gentle, and they are reasonably patient with Westerners. But
many local people do not speak English. And while many people do speak English,
the differences in culture and speaking patterns can easily lead to
misunderstandings.
And then there is the actual
school program itself. The academic program at RYI is designed for
serious-minded students. The Tibetan language classes in particular are
designed to train translators; they are not suitable for someone who wants to
learn a bit of Tibetan while they are on holiday in Nepal.
Students are expected to
come prepared to the first day of Tibetan language class—to know the alphabet
and to have basic reading skills. My first day of my colloquial Tibetan class
was another shock for me, as I realized that I was not fully prepared. Even
though I had studied the Tibetan language previously, I had not kept up with it
or done a proper review. I was already behind on the first day of class, and I
spent the next several months simply trying to keep my head above water.
Eventually, I realized that in order to study this exotic language, I had to
learn how to study.
Studying a language involves
two key aspects: grammar and vocabulary. I am comfortable with learning
grammar, but learning vocabulary was another unexpected challenge. I
continually underestimated the time needed to learn the new vocabulary words
each week. I struggled to stay focused and to find the right study method that
would work for me. Once again, I found myself wondering why I was doing this.
Sitting in my room one day,
reviewing my flash cards with Tibetan words, I had a flashback to my
childhood—I vividly recalled a memory of my mother showing me flashcards of
English words, to help me prepare for primary school. I really hadn’t expected
this process to stir up such deep memories and emotions.
In Faxian’s case, the long,
slow journey through deserts and over mountains would certainly have given
Faxian time to think about what he was doing, and decide whether or not he was
on the right course. I suspect that Faxian grew more resolved with every step.
In my own case, it is only
after many months of studying here, with many ups and downs, that I am certain
that I made the right decision for myself.
For whatever reason, this is a journey that I instinctively felt I
needed to take. Now, just over half-way
through my second semester, I feel a great sense of accomplishment for just
having stayed the course.
Faxian spent about ten years
traveling through-out northern India, including visiting many important
historical sites, such as Bodhgaya and Lumbini. He eventually obtained the
precious Vinaya texts that he was seeking, and traveled back to China via the
sea route to the south. He was 79 years old when he finally returned to China.
He lived for another seven years, and he spent his remaining years translating one
of the precious Vinaya texts into the Chinese language. The record of his
journey is important reference for modern-day historians.
For the RYI students who
have come from far away, it is often difficult to explain to family and friends
back home why we have come here. I personally often have difficulty explaining
this decision to myself. But I am sure that Faxian would understand.
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