Rockfall in the mountains
Turning off the highway 33, to a little road, which takes me 27Km into the forest land north of Rock Creek, near the US border. 27Km in, hardly anyone lives here, a house maybe every kilometre. Then, turn off onto a dirt road which takes me another 7Km into the deeper forest I arrive at Humuh Monastery. The gates were locked and I have to shim over them in my Wellingtons and walk a seemingly endless driveway – lined on both sides with tall poles draped in preyer flags. Not a soul about. I walk into the main area. It has well tended gardens and a gold stupa in the middle. I sit facing the stupa, a plastic rock next to me with a hidden loudspeaker is playing mantras – at first I thought they were coming from inside the stupa.
A purple robed nun appears, then another and I am soon registered and set up my tent – all extremely efficient.
5:45 the following morning a clanging bell wakes s all up, at least I am in the shower at 6 before anyone else. By 6:40 we are in the temple, singing prayers and breakfasted at 8
The day starts at 6, with a clanging bell which chimes relentlessly – shower then into the morning prayers and then breakfast at 8. Teachings from the master at 10:30 and at 3:00 then a full on chanting and one hour meditation at 7pm after dinner.
This will be my routine for the next few days.
In itself, that is fine, it is why I booked into this place and it is run really well, even though the agenda (to get you to join them) pervades the whole day like a rank odour. Before each session starts up, one nun will start humming hummmmm then they all join in humming like a hive of bees on acid. Its both disturbing and compelling, you want to join in, its hysteria in a tightly controlled environment. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
The prayers are a home-spun series of names of saints and Sanskrit syllables, all in this weird Canadian dialect, all pronouncing the syllable HUM as ‘HUME’ rhyming with fume. This is ok but what is eerie is the prayers are recorded and played out via a series of concealed fake rock speakers around the Stupa (monument representing Buddha’s mind). “hume” the rocks sing. You cant sit there for long – it’s a bit like McDonalds where the musak finally gets to you or the secret weapon to disperse noisy teenagers from outside off-licences, a high pitched buzz – and you have to leave – throwing out music. I really think the words they chant mean absolutely nothing to them. Do they understand the difference between Nirmakaya, Samboghakaya and Dharmakaya, for example? These words are all trotted out like a list of vegetables in a parrot-like fashion each time the group assembles.
This was to be a silent retreat, in fact I was paired off with two deaf mute girls in our discussion group so I was off to a head start. In reality, everyone chatted as much as they wished, except when I was talking to someone at dinner by the office administrator nun who hushed me up. Later on, while on fours, while painting my rocks she came to apologize, I accepted her apology, thanking her for coming over. I just felt the whole thing so embarrassing. It was like being at a girl’s boarding school. Gawd.
The Wisdom Master arrived at 10:30 for the first of her teachings. She is an attractive 60-ish woman with blond hair and blue eyes. She is leading a little red Pomeranian dog which seems to steal the show, constantly fidgeting and yapping while she expounded the Crown Sutra to us. It was positively comedic, when in the afternoon session the dog breaks loose. We were sitting in the forest this session and I was nearest the wisdom master. The little retractable lead flies out of WM’s hand and I instinctively jump up to capture the little bastard. WM shouts, “no, no James, leave it” too late, the Pom starts snarling and yapping at me . Purple robed nuns and monks look on in horror as I jump about trying to avoid the red clockwork twerp of a clacking mutt.
Another senior aide to WM gets the lead without being mauled. At the end WM master thanks me acknowledging that ‘my intentions were good but little Dorje (Tib: indestructible) did not know me and it would have been impossible for me to capture him.
recording of the event for your listening pleasure
The retreat is in the deepest quietest place I have ever ventured to. Marmosets, chipmunks, prairie dogs and butterflies unselfconsciously parade about the grounds. The biodiversity here is extremely high and we drink pure well water, which is tested absolutely pure. Vegetarian food, meditation for the next few days will definitely do me some good.
The Humuh Website https://www.humuh.org/
No photos, not allowed. No talking.
See if you can spot me in here