Lotus Lantern International Meditation Center

In keeping with my need to experience as much of Korea before leaving it, I decided to partake in a Templestay, an element of Korean culture that is thriving. People of all backgrounds, religions and cultures go to temples across the country and spend a weekend among monks learning about Buddhism, meditation and quietude.

I didn't want to go to a temple in Seoul, wanting to head out of the city for some fresh air. I didn't want to go too far either. Some temples provide English instruction so I decided to go to GangHwa Island, about 1 1/2 hours by bus outside of Seoul on the west coast.

Lotus Lantern International Meditation Center is located in the countryside, removed from the road so that no cars, horns or other unnatural sounds can be heard. I arrived a day early, on my own, wanting an extra night of rest, exhausted by my job, the grueling and unnatural schedules and the difficulties of life in general.

Main Temple

I was shown to my room and, there, spent the rest of the night reading and sleeping. The next day, other people arrived and there were a good 40 people ready to partake in the adventure to come. I was lucky enough to get my own room (the three adjumas who were initially supposed to share my room aware of my fatigue and letting me have the room only to bunk in the library). I felt slightly guilty, but grateful for their senstitivity. Saturday afternoon was pretty relaxed. It was a weekend of torrential rains so we didn't venture out too much.

Apart from me, the other foreigners included one British/Australian man and two American GIs from a nearby base. They were nice enough, though I hadn't gone there to meet new people. We were shown the vicinities, an old temple and fairly new buildings amongst a gorgeously manicured garden. Two small ponds housed coi fish and small green frogs and the trees were chockfull of cicadas singing their hearts out. It was just what I needed.

Our "English" speaker was a Russian monk who, with very broken English, informed us that he had come to Korea 8 years earlier to immerse himself in the world of Buddhism. He was very nervous but I had tons of questions and it was nice to get some direct answers.

We attempted meditation that evening, a feat I have still not been able to master or even perform correctly. I can sit still, pain radiating through my back and legs, for 15 minutes, but during the process I'm just trying to get through the time hoping the gong will ring indicating the end of the meditation period. We were informed to count our breathing as that would help us clear our minds of other distractions. But I'm a multi-tasker, capable of counting, cursing the pain and thinking of other thoughts, all the while waiting for it all to end.

The closest I've ever gotten to what people describe as a meditative state was while doing tai chi. The breathing in and out, in conjunction with the complex and slow movements, enabled me to focus on just that. The only other time that I approached that experience was when I used to go to the gym in Montreal. I would run on the treadmill with music in my ears, focusing on my breathing and forgetting about anything else besides the movements of my body, the feel of my heart beating in my chest and the rhythm of my breathing. This allowed me to run without looking at the time. But that was years ago. Over the past 5 years or so, I have been unable to reach that level, though I continue to seek it.

After our meditative session, we had dinner. As you may well know, devout Buddhists are vegetarian and I was afraid that the food would be bland. I was knocked off my feet. It was absolutely delicious! Roots, vegetables and rice all prepared with the perfect ingredients to bring out flavors that exploded in my mouth. What a truly decadant surprise.

We had a free evening with lights out at 9pm. The next morning the gong rang at 3:30am heralding the morning prayer and 108 prostrations. I readied myself and headed out to the big meditation center, a log cabin stretched long with an altar at the head and statues of Buddha in different positions.

30+ people assembled, rubbing sleep from their eyes. Now, prostrations are a complicated matter. First you kneel then bend over until your head touches the mat, your hands around your head, palms facing up. You cross your feet (the dorsal of one foot placed over the other) and then you return to your kneeling position, put your hands together in prayer and propel yourself onto your feet without the help of your hands. About 5 years ago, I broke my right toe and it has hurt ever since. The pressure exerted in this action strains every little toe you have on each foot. Not the most pleasant of sensations when your feet are not in top shape.

We did about 10 of these prostrations as a morning prayer and I managed to keep up, gritting through the shots of pain in my toe. This was just the beginning! After the morning prayer, we were to do 108 prostrations, the idea being that they would help up balance "the scales of our ongoing accumulated karma". It was hell! After about twenty, my thighs were screaming. Pushing yourself up without the help of your hands is really difficult! I looked around me and noticed that a lot of Koreans were using their hands to help them up. I felt no shame in following their example. That would have been the only way I could finish up the punishing rhythm that the monks performed with incredible ease.

When I later spoke to my students about this experience, they gawked at me, impressed that I had done it. None of them had even attempted it and the resounding question was "what went through your head as you were doing it?" In theory, the prostrations, as repetitive actions, are known to be a meditative action, clearing your mind and body of negativity etc... They all looked at me in anticipation of my answer. I said, " I was just thinking, don't give up! Don't give up! You can do this!!!" The room exploded in laughter and everytime I got up from my chair to write something on the board, I winced with pain, the lactid acid doing a number on my legs. Giggles would erupt as they watched me and I would smile too. It was pretty darn funny.

After the prostrations, we had breakfast which was to be followed by a walk which I forced myself to do. I was not in the mood! But the sky had cleared enough for us to have a nice walk and check out some really old buildings, and structures hundreds of years old.

We were then treated to a calligraphy lesson, albeit one where we only copied words written in Chinese, Korean and English as to the precepts of Buddhism. It was still fun. Free for another little while, I asked whether I could take some pictures of the location. As you can see, they were more than happy to oblige.

We were then invited to have tea with the head monk of the temple. He was an amazing man; calm, with pretty decent English, who I was surprised to find had a really great sense of humor. I was told by the English/Australian that Buddhism was full of humor. It was nice. I asked a few hundred more questions and we were then free to roam around again until the next activity. This man had entered Buddhism after university. He had encountered a lot of death in his youth and had at that time first been drawn to the quietude and study of Buddhism. After his mandatory military service and university studies, he decided to pursue Buddhism as his calling and has been with the Jogye order for over 20 years.

Me and the head monk

Around noon, we had another prayer and several more prostrations in the original temple, had lunch and were free to go. The templestay was over. I was offered a free ride back to the city on a bus but opted for the city bus back. I had come alone, I explained to them in Korean, I needed to leave alone.



Me and one of the American GIs with the temple's dog Yon Gun (Lotus Root)