By U Hla Maung
The Sagaing Hills, in central Burma, run north-south for a distance of about 29 miles west of the Irrawaddy River. Once heavily wooded, the hills were long ago the habitat of wild fowl, deer, leopards, tigers, and myriad smaller creatures. Then, during the reigns of Burmese kings who ruled from nearby ancient cities, the hills became a sanctuary for hermits and monks needing to escape from the hustle and bustle of worldly common-folk engaged in activities driven by greed, anger and delusion. The first hermits and monks dwelt in small caves cut into the limestone hill-slopes, sufficient for protection from wind and rain and from the wild animals that formerly had dominion over these hills. The hills are still dotted with such caves, many now abandoned. Later, as the piety and wisdom of many of these hermits and monks became known, and as their numbers grew, well-wishers built simple dwellings of stone and wood, monasteries, and small shrines and pagodas. Presently, it is estimated that there are over 700 monasteries or nunneries and 7000 monks and nuns living on the Sagaing Hills. For more than a thousand years now, these hills have remained a sanctuary for monks and nuns.

In Rangoon, the capital of Burma, World War II era buses-timber frames and steel sheets riveted together-belch thick smoke and noisily ply through streets against the backdrop of colonial buildings baking in the sun. Five hundred miles farther north, in Mandalay, buses, cars, motorcycles, and bicycles compete with reckless abandon for the right-of-way at crossroads without traffic lights. From Mandalay, to enter the Sagaing Hills is to enter a time-warp, where worldly priorities of wealth and status and power are forgotten, and in the faces of the smiling nuns, one can see the love and humility that spiritual discipline can nurture. Despite the very simple, frugal living conditions within the Hills, one senses that here perhaps can be found true contentment and peace of mind. In truth, it may be partly because of these frugal conditions that there is contentment here. No newspapers and no television to distract and disturb the mind. No "modern conveniences" and nothing of the turmoil of city life, where the synthesized fantasies and seductions of modern marketing keep the unwary in a perpetual state of longing and dissatisfaction.

From January 9 to January 30, 2001, 35 foreign yogis, mostly from the United States, Canada, and Australia, gathered for the Fifth Annual Kyaswa Retreat for 21 days of intensive vipassana meditation.

The monastery is located at the entrance of a short valley leading into the Sagaing Hills. Individual dwellings of teak, mostly 10 by 12 feet, simply furnished with bed, table and cupboard, and outhouse washing and toilet facilities, are located on the hillsides, giving yogis each new day a beautiful view of the sunrise over distant plains, with the Irrawaddy River and its sandbanks in the foreground. The days were pleasantly cool, but washing was in water just this side of freezing. Sayadaw U Lakkhana (through an interpreter), Steven Smith, Grahame White, and Lynne Bousfield gave interviews and Dhamma talks. Deborah Crown and Greg Scharf were retreat managers who looked after the sundry needs of yogis. Alan Jassby participated as both yogi and manager for the ongoing MettaDana projects in neighboring Wachet village. These projects include improvements to the TB Ward and treatment programs at Wachet Sangha Hospital, financial support for pupils of Wachet Primary School, construction of school buildings, and repair and maintenance of monuments and pagodas long ravaged by weather and neglect. Carolle Gauthier, a French-Canadian yogi and acupuncturist, stopped her meditation practice a week early to give acupuncture classes to students of Burmese indigenous medicine. As word spread of Carolle's free treatments at Wachet Sangha Hospital, she found herself swamped with patients and working 10-hour days. Patients reported improvements and are already lined up for next year! Throughout the retreat, Sayadaw U Lakkhana, as always, showed great consideration and kindness, and the catering staff and helpers, again as always, charmed the yogis with their goodwill, patience, and untiring exertions.

The foreign yogis included several foreign monks who have been residing in Burma for one to three years. With their dedication and commitment to the practice of Dhamma, the yogis were a source of wonder and inspiration to the Burmese visitors to the monastery, some of whom had come to donate breakfast or lunch.

During the retreat, Steven Smith and Grahame White had the opportunity to talk with Shwe Taung Oo Sayadaw, abbot of a monastery in Kanbalu, about 100 miles north of Sagaing. The Sayadaw, with his forthright, engaging manner, was much grieved at having to talk through interpreters. It was, he confided, like talking through a poorly connected phone line. Oftentimes, he had said something somber and profound, but the interpreter's manner had been light and jocular. He was left wondering, "Had the message gotten through? Had I talked too long? Or too briefly?" The Sayadaw also remarked that the foreign yogis were like the bees that flew in from afar to alight upon the lotus flower and drink the sweet nectar and take away the golden pollen. All the while, the frogs, who lived in the muddy waters of the pond, were ever croaking, "The lotus is ours, the lotus is ours." The Burmese people, Sayadaw said, are like the frogs, always claiming the Buddha's true doctrine to be theirs, but very few get to taste the Dhamma's sweetness because the vast majority do not take vipassana practice seriously, but are satisfied with shows of devotion. As Australian writer Paul Croucher has written in History of Buddhism in Australia regarding attendance at Buddhist monasteries in Australia, "Typically, Australians come for meditation evenings and Asians for the festivals."

It may well come to pass that while Burmese Theravadan monks continue to extol their ancient lineage, a new hybrid lotus will be developed in the West, more vigorous, more attuned to modern conditions, and more able to attract devotees in Europe, Australia, and the Americas. For the present, Burma remains home to a large number of Sayadaws who are well-versed in both the (Theravadan) scriptures and the practice of vipassana, their ability to spread the Dhamma being hampered only by language.

Toward the end of the retreat, Sayadaw U Lakkhana presented each participant with a small gift, a souvenir of the 2001 Kyaswa Retreat. But yogis took home not just Sayadaw's gifts, but a greater understanding of the Buddha's Dhamma and memories to cherish of the kindness and generosity of Burmese well-wishers and the soothing, living stillness of the Sagaing Hills.

This article appeared originally in the Vipassana Hawai'i News, Spring 2002