A reformed young man

‘I hope you can keep away from the alcohol today – it’s the first day of Buddhist Lent.’

That was Phra Kew, formerly known as Kew, warning me about the evils of taking the sauce.

As a monk, he has to say such things, I suppose. Still, I was surprised by the extent of the transformation my friend has undergone since he entered the monkhood.

‘I was working as a DJ, getting drunk every night. One day, I found a website on dhamma (Buddhist teaching) which I liked.

‘I decided to do something more useful with my life,’ he said.

I visited Kew yesterday at his temple, a rambling place set in leafy surrounds close to his home.

Kew entered the monkhood in a mass ceremony at Dhammakaya temple in Pathum Thani last Tuesday. He was one of 1000 novices who took the robes (see pictures).

His temple is home to more than 50 monks. I saw few visitors, but perhaps I turned up at the wrong time.

Phra Kew is warming to his new vocation as a monk.

‘I could carry on being a monk indefinitely, moving from one temple to another,’ he said enthusiastically.

Kew introduced me to a younger orange-robed friend with a beautiful smile.

‘This is my nong [junior],’ he said.

I tried not to show too much interest. The young man is a monk after all.

-
I took a motorcycle taxi to the temple. He let me off at the entrance, close to a prayer room.

A senior monk stood outside, welcoming visitors. He asked me who I wanted to see.

I gave my friend's name.

‘Oh, Kew!’ he said, as if his reputation was already well known.

He disappeared for a moment and summoned Kew over the microphone.

‘Kew....a relative is here to see you,’ he said.

A few minutes later, my bald-headed young friend emerged from the prayer room, in the company of three or four younger monks.

‘How did you know...what are you doing here?’ Phra Kew asked as he approached.

Phra Kew looked as if he was about to cry, but was trying not to let it show. He hitched his ill-fitting orange robe back on his shoulder.

I almost cried myself.

Visiting temples is an emotional experience. Whenever I do it, I weep.

I did not give Phra Kew a wai, as he is younger. However, I felt awkward. Next time I shall have to bone up on the etiquette involved in greeting a monk.

‘I didn’t tell anyone I was here...how did you know?’ Phra Kew asked again.

Phra Kew invited me to sit with him. We took a plastic chair each. His friends left us alone to talk.

I told him the story of how I had visited his apartment last week, and left my phone number in the hope that we would make contact. I had visited the apartment many years before, but didn’t know if Kew and his family were still there.

The condo office recognised Kew’s sister from the description I gave, and passed on my telephone number. Kew’s mum called, and told me her son was about to enter the monkhood.

'How is Maiyuu?' Phra Kew asked.

He looked disappointed that I did not bring Maiyuu with me, but I explained that Maiyuu was busy.

Phra Kew looked a little ragged, but it’s been 12 months since I last saw him. I have not seen him bald before. His robes fail to disguise an enormous bad-boy tattoo which Kew wears on his back.

On the plus side, he appears to be growing into his new role in life as a monk.

Phra Kew and I spent 15 minutes together. I sat on the edge of my chair, as eager pupils must when in the presence of a teacher, while Phra Kew expounded about faith and Buddhism, with the odd personal comment dropped in.

I was surprised at how much he had changed. Phra Kew himself seemed unaware of the irony, but he is still young.

Just a few weeks ago, he was living a life of debauchery. Now he warns his visitors off all the vices he himself pursued so enthusiastically, as if he has turned his back on his old life and has sworn himself off the pleasures and temptations it once held.

I told myself not to be to hard on my young friend. Since he took the robes, Phra Kew has a duty to perform.

‘Thailand is full of vice...men pursue lust, teenage girls get pregnant, drugs are rife...Thais are turning away from religion, and society is worse off as a result,’ he lamented.

‘As a farang, I hope you can spread the word,’ he said.

‘Any time you want to meditate, please feel free to pay a visit – and luang pee [a third-person reference to Phra Kew himself] will introduce you to the senior monks here,’ he said.

I tried to steer the conversation away from religion, and back to Kew himself.

‘How is it here...are you coping on two meals a day?’ I asked.

‘At first I wandered around, looking for cigarettes. Here, they ban monks from smoking. But now that I am meditating, I am more at peace. I don’t need them any more,’ he said.

'Meditating was hard, as my legs hurt. Now I am used to it. As for the food, we have a big meal in the middle of the day, so I don’t get hungry,’ he said.

A noticeboard close to the prayer room set out a day in the life of a monk. It lists their daily activities, from when they rise before 5am, and when they go to bed almost 18 hours later.

Some of the Thai words were new to me, and I asked Phra Kew what they meant.

As he explained what he does every day, a small group of his friends in orange gathered around us to watch.

Phra Kew was patient. 'You should have been a teacher,' I thought to myself. Now that he is a monk, his opportunity has arrived.

Phra Kew excused himself, as the monks were gathering at the prayer room to confirm their solidarity with each other. That was mentioned on the noticeboard, too.

‘I am going to see my mum and dad on Sunday morning. My sisters will be there. I can talk more naturally at home. Please come and see me,’ he said.

I agreed.

Earlier, I bought a bucket of personal effects and supplies for Phra Kew. I handed it over, and said goodbye to my reformed bad boy from the Thon Buri side.

At the age of 26 - not before time, his mother would say – Kew appears to have found a place to belong.

Good on him. I hope his happiness lasts.