Life as a Buddhist Nun

We woke early at 4 am. It was quiet and dark, but we could hear the nuns around us getting ready to go to morning prayers, moving and talking softly, before they made their way to the temple room where the nuns worshipped. The temple was very segregated – the monks worshipped separately, in a larger but, I thought, uglier room. The women had a more intimate space down by the canal.

Some mornings we sneaked in late, kneeling on the mats at the back of the room. Louise was always hard to wake at that hour of the morning, and the others took their time. Despite the fact that I love my bed and am definitely not a morning person, then and still now I tend to be a rule-follower, and wanted to be there on time. Besides, once we got there it was worth it.

The room was decorated in classic Thai temple style, with an altar type arrangement of Buddhas at the front. The temple was dimly lit, candles surrounding the Buddhas cast a golden glow, silhouetted in front of us were the lines of nuns in their white, flowing robes and shaven heads. All was quiet, until the eerie chanting began. We joined in when we could, as we had had to learn the basic chants before we were permitted to join the temple and wear the robes. The chants echoed around the temple:

Namo tassa
bhagavato
arahato
sammā-sambuddhassa

Homage to
the Blessed One,
the Worthy One,
the Rightly Self-awakened One

Towards the end of prayers, we would hear the occasional long-tail boat on the klong (canal) alongside the temple, its motor sounding softer than usual, moving slowly, more cautiously in the dark of the early morning. But it was the first sign that the early morning tranquillity, with its serene magic, was about to be broken; the day was beginning, the city starting to wake, and dawn was not far away.