Letter 1.25

…I left the island 2 weeks ago at 5:30 AM, arriving in Colombo by 8:30 AM. (On the return trip I left Colombo at 12:25 PM and arrived on the island at 6:00 PM the following day - never take a slow train in Ceylon. The distance, by the way, is 65 miles.) My passport was renewed promptly with no difficulty by a Mr. Rosenblatt, formerly of Haifa, with whom I had a pleasant chat on the subjects of Israel and cremation (a natural couple?). The visa is handled through the Ceylon Government and so that, of course, will take some months, in spite of the fact that it's only a renewal of a visa issued only 3 months ago…

'Working for a living cannot be the meaning of life, since it would be a contradiction to say that the perpetual production of the conditions of subsistence is an answer to the question about its significance, which, by the help of this, must be conditioned.'
(Kierkegaard, Either/Or)

Journal 25

December 10 - Yesterday: I left Nugagala immediately after noon dána, but not before I came face to face with a cobra. I was about to open a gate opening onto the porch of the kuti, when I saw it - black-grey, with indistinct white markings - coiled on the pillar right next to the gate, resting its head on the gate itself. It more or less ignored me for a while, then finally slid off the post to the porch floor, went once around the porch, out the partly-opened gate and away. All very polite, no threats, but not friendliness either. We both seemed perfectly willing to simply leave each other alone and this, from what I have been told, is the normal attitude of snakes, who will only bite if attacked (or if they think they will be attacked).

I was a bit sorry to leave, since the place was great: only the manager, so to speak, left something to be desired. Mahathera – Ven. Saránadoti (Sarána, by the way, is Pali for 'refuge'), who is a very active 72 years old, gave me an umbrella which I have since discovered to be a more useless item than I formerly thought, since it is awkward to carry about. But I could not refuse: he was scandalized to learn that I didn't have one, for in Ceylon one is hardly considered; a real monk without such props. Now I'm stuck with it, unless I can find a monk who will accept it - it would be improper to give it to a layman (it's yellow, considered a monk's color), and wrong to discard it.

I left with the dáyakás, taking a different route out, which brought me to the other side of the bend in the road through a much easier path, which gradually disintegrated from very fine jungle to jungle, then to scrub, and finally marsh through which we had to wade - very muddy. At last we came to a high ridge which looked down on the valley through which the road ran - splendid view - and then we descended to the valley floor, with its rice fields and civilization…

Letter 1.24

…I've just returned from flood-ridden Colombo to flood-struck Dodanduwa. The monsoon has begun. Colombo is under 2 or 3 inches but I was told that while I was gone the outlet from the lagoon to the Ocean here got blocked up with rubble, it rained for 4 days and nights, and the water rose 4 feet! It was necessary to swim between the two islands, since the foot-path was totally submerged. (Fortunately, the houses are all on high ground.) For meals the monks made do or did without. No reports of ducks in robes washed ashore…

Journal 24

December 8 - rain last night: got up at daybreak, about 5:45. Dreamt I was being called at 4:00. Was the dream real? I don't know; but I certainly needed the sleep; no one said anything. There was a short worship at 7:30-8:00 this morning; otherwise I am left alone. I found a vantage point where I could look down into the valley, covered in steam this morning, which very slowly dispersed and reassembled above us, finally resulting in a slight misty rain. Finally the clouds moved out and new ones came in, at our level, and suddenly the whole place was enchanted: a silence descended, broken only by one song-bird, and outlines became indistinct, and everything not immediate seemed remote - all very fine. This place could be great; but it is merely comic: that people should expend such a great effort to build a place so far from everything, only to have flocks of dáyakás coming daily and overnight, with things so arranged that isolation is quite difficult and often impossible - that is comic, like one man digging a hole and another filling it up. Besides, except for the dhammasala - which is the arañña's raison d'etre, the place, in comparison with the jungle it is within, must be termed squalid: mud rooms with corrugated tin roofs. Couldn't they use some of the trees to build a timber hut? Or would termites destroy it? There are some araññas, I hear, where the kutis themselves are caves, finished with wooden walls where there is no rock, or even stone walls. (Anuradhapura is constantly mentioned in this respect, and I shall have to visit it some day.) Upon reflection the place could only partially be termed squalid - there are some redeeming features as well. But it is the layout that is unfortunate: everything is too close together for a hermitage, and also there are no fine long paths to walk on. (Though I fully appreciate the difficulty of cutting a path through this jungle.) There is a walking area outside this kuti, a real requirement of any meditator - a long narrow prepared strip of land - but unfortunately the former occupant of the room has put a clothesline up over it so it can't be used. That shows the real purpose of this place more than anything: show. They must have a walking area, for it is a need of a meditator, but they don't go so far as to even pretend to use it, let alone actually do so.

Dána was, of course, a farce, and not very pleasant - the surroundings that is - but I hardly expected anything else.