The Extent of My Religious Programming

My family are German immigrants to Australia. I was four years of aged when we arrived. I come from a long line of non religious folk on my father’s side, quite a few generations to be exact. On my mother’s side, her father who comes from the south of Germany, one of six brothers was educated in a Catholic monastery and trained to become a priest. Something happened; my mother has only hinted my grandfather as a teenager was ‘diddled’ by an older priest and an altercation (fist fight I believe) ensued. My grandfather ran away and was excommunicated, a senior Catholic priest also ‘cursed’ him saying he’ll never father children.

My grandfather met my grandmother, they got married and she gave birth to my mother, the first girl child born on my grandfather’s side for a few generations. Two years later my aunty was born. My grandfather (a colourful character in his own right) trained to be a chef, was conscripted into the Wehrmacht during WWII, and was captured by the British in Norway. An interesting story in its own right.

When my father was applying for Australian citizenship a couple of years after arrival, he was unable to fill in the ‘religion’ part. Being from northern Germany where most Christians are Lutheran, he filled in ‘Lutheran’. I was packed off to Sunday school at the age of about six or seven, how this happened is not clear to me. I remember a Lutheran deaconess picking up the kids on Sunday in her Morris Minor 1000 (funny how I remember the car) and cramming as many kids as she could in her little car. On the second Sunday of going, the deaconess told me she had never seen my parents in church so they’ll never go to heaven. I told my father this, he forbade me to go back.

Enter high school days. I went to a state school and all pupils had to attend one period a week (40 minutes) of religious study unless a note was signed by the parents exempting attendance. I packed myself off to the ‘Lutheran’ room and lo and behold, there was the same deaconess.

The ‘Baptist’ room was the most popular with the kids. Now, I come from a very beach suburb and surfing is huge. The Baptist minister was a young guy and surfer well known in the area. His ‘religious’ instruction was talking about the nature of the ocean and paying homage to ‘Huey’, the god of waves. An interesting fellow.
Since that time I have never attended church, except for weddings, a couple of funerals and two Christenings.

Fast forward to 2003 and my first visit to Laos. My wife had just put her hand up to project manage an education project. I would spend as much time as I could with her each year. Forced separation is difficult but I always looked forward to my yearly visits to Laos. The project lasted four years. I became fascinated with the culture and as a photojournalist found Laos a wonderful country. I trained as a journalist but changed to photojournalism, worked for 17 years as a photojournalist for one of the major print media groups.

I found Buddhist temple life extraordinary. The discipline of the monks is amazing. Monks, especially the young novices always willing subjects. They were very easy to talk with as most wanted to hone their English speaking skills. They would talk about culture, temple life but never about Buddhism itself. One young monk asked me if I was monk in my country. I shave my head by the way.

My wife and I moved to Laos in 2007, were offered jobs and decided to stay. I get involved in all the major Theravada Buddhist festivals and celebrations. It’s one way to get immersed in the culture. There festivals are vibrant, colourful and a heap of fun. Our Lao friends are all Theravada Buddhist, well educated and connected. A few have university degrees from western universities or Thailand. They very devout and spiritual, a couple even superstitious, believing in ‘pi’ (spirits). I can relate stories that will leave you scratching your head. Theravada Buddhism is in every fabric of society, even in the way they prepare meals. The temple (or wat) is the focal point of village life. There is a small temple at the end of my street. I’ll often go there, sit under a tree and clear my head.

Lao Theravada Buddhism is also different to Theravada Buddhism in Thailand, Cambodia or Sri Lanka. The Animist ethnic groups in Laos have influenced Buddhism in its own right.

Interesting, only once I have been asked if I’m Christian by a very good friend. Many Lao and Thai relate westerners with Christianity.The Lao rarely talk about their religion, they practise it . When I told him I have no religious beliefs, his reply was, “Then you are adaptable”.

 

Thanks for sharing. You have had an interesting life.

 

That's interesting. Thanks.

 

Still am. It's not over yet

 

And if you convert to the local faith it may never be over lol -Buddhism has always had a lot of respect because the basic tenets are be cool and learn stuff. A concept we could all find value in

 

What an interesting and cool story. Thanks.

 

they also advocate an avoidance of deification, but some practising buddhists have a problem with that. it was the main reason I moved on from practising - too much monk worshipping. granted some of those Thai monks are total hotties, but still!

where were we?

 

oh yeah, Lizard

your life has indeed, been interesting. and strangely familiar!

 

I would find it very difficult to convert to Buddhism, even Lao Buddhism which is a little different from Thai, Cambodian even Sri Lankan Theravada Buddhism. As mentioned in my opening post, I love attending Buddhist celebrations here. The Lao Buddhist wedding ceremony is a hoot (literally). Pity I can't understand Pali, and my Lao is a bit better.

I had a student a couple of years back. Her father is a monk. Kind of weird as monks aren't allowed any physical contact with women. He became a monk after his children were born. He is still legally married. As it seems, he became a monk after a family crisis. My student was in her mid twenties. She visits her father regularly at his wat, bringing food and stuff like that. What she misses is the physical contact with her father.

Like in Laos, many of the monks you see are novices. Lao boys will spend some time in a wat as part of their education process. Some stay a lifetime, others for a couple of weeks or months. No contracts. A male joining a wat gives merit to his mother.

 

I have a friend, Lao in her mid 30s. She's well educated, well connected and highly intelligent. But,, she is frightened to death of pi (spirits). My wife used to live behind a wat and Nui wouldn't visit my wife after sunset or and would leave before the sun went down. In most wat grounds there a small stupas which hold the remains of the departed. Buddhists cremate their dead.

Early 2003 my wife started managing an education project for AusAid. Nui was her personal assistant. My wife would leave some of her field trips until I arrived in Laos so I could come along.

My wife had planned to head north in the very remote mountain regions of Laos for a field trip. I was to join her. We drove from Luang Prabang in the central highlands to Luang Namtha on the Chinese border. In those days, AusAid employees weren't allowed to drive from Vientiane along Route 13 to Luang Prabang as there was still a bit argy bargy between Hmong tribesmen and the Lao military. There had been a few car jackings and cars being peppered with gunfire. We flew to Luang Prabang and then connected with my wife's car and her driver there.

It was the wet season so the journey took longer than anticipated. We were in a Toyota Land Cruiser,,my wife, Nui, my wife's driver and I. Because of the poor road conditions we had to make a unscheduled over night stop in a small town in Oudomxay province, about as remote as one can get. We stopped at a guesthouse which looked OK. Hot showers and aircon was what we needed.

My wife and I booked into a 1st floor room, Nui and the driver a room each on the ground floor. We had planned to meet in 30 minutes for dinner. Anyway, we went down stairs and here was Nui sitting in reception with her bags. Nui mentioned (in her usual calm manner) she can't stay in the room because of pi. Bloody hell.

We queried the receptionist via the driver (she spoke no English). Apparently two weeks before, a tourist had died from an opium overdose it that room. Absolutely gob smacked. What was also interesting was the receptionist was so blasé about it all, like it was an every day event.