90 Days (Part I) – Religious vacuum leads to reverse culture shock
To be honest, I didn’t want to come back to America. Who in their right mind would? Consider for a moment: I had respectful amazing thoughtful intuitive progressive Thai students, I adored my job teaching English at a government school, the city of Pathum Thani-Rangsit was a thrumming inclusive environment, there were an infinite supply of cultural and religious sites to probe, the food was amazing, and I had phenomenal co-workers. Based on these factors, I knew with a couple weeks left in Thailand that I was going to have a rough time integrating back into American society.
During the last couple of days in Koh Samet, I made the conscious decision to engage with American culture in a completely different way. For me, this meant seeking out meaningful ways to engage with all persons and ignore all the bullshit that goes along with our Western expectations of success. Along with that decision, I came to the conclusion I would finish my Master’s degree, complete the requirements for my California teaching credential, and every weekend try to teach English to whomever would listen.
Since I’ve been back, the past 90 days have been a whirlwind of activity. Reintegration to societal expectations was periodically unsettling and provided a few moments of discord in my family dynamics. I stumbled through relationships trying to find my way around the muddy waters of past expectations and keep my focus on a new found inner confidence. Conforming to a daily work routine that consists of student-teaching, coaching baseball, completing school assignments, and fulfilling family responsibilities was daunting; coupled with the fact I found a massive spiritual vacuum within my surrounding community.
The first 60 days in the States, I spent part of my weekends searching out local Buddhist temples hoping to find a connection between Fresno and Thailand’s Buddhist community. My expectations of locating beautiful temples and monks who actively participated in their local community were quickly dashed on the jagged rocks of American isolationism and communal stagnation. If these words could weep, they would reflect the searing pain that a large segment of persons (myself included) are experiencing as their religious culture has been decimated by a defunct overbearing illogical hypocritical Christian society. Instead of interacting with healthy families, loving individuals, and educational houses of worship; what I found were caged environments that reflected the disconnect we have with our fellow human beings. As a result, I am thoroughly convinced the whole Western style pseudo-religious system needs to come crashing down on itself. Here is an extended summary of what I found living in the shadows.
My search started with typing “Buddhist temples” into the online Google map search engine, and I noted several religious sites were located in the city of Fresno — none in Clovis. I chose to start by visiting Wat Teilman (919 W Kearney Blvd., Fresno) because the photographs on the internet depicted a worship area that appeared to be similar to what I had experienced in Thailand.
Upon my arrival, I observed a secure metal gate along W. Kearney Avenue near the intersection of W. Kearney Avenue and Teilman Avenue that obstructed cars or pedestrians from entering onto the property. Surprised by my inability to freely access the temple, I drove south down Teilman Avenue and noted a small opening in the chain link fence with a small white address sign haphazardly affixed to a metal pole that signaled I had arrived to my destination. I stood outside my vehicle feeling dumbfounded by the sparsely decorated front yard area which was no more than dirt road lined by trimmed brown weeds, tiny sheds squatted uneasily in random spots, port-a-potties stood side by side like plastic sentries, and two overgrown trees provided a wide swath of shade from the pounding heat. Filled with a sense of trepidation, I fought through my initial revulsion and approached the gate trying to locate the actual worship area (temple). There was a dilapidated tan two-story house with a large porch blocking my view of the backyard. Seconds turned into minutes while I waited for some sign of life to appear inside the compound, but none occurred.
Wat Teilman
Moments like these have taught me fear is a good indicator change is about to happen and I’ve learned to embrace its icy tendrils. Girded by prior experiences, fueled by fear, and confident in my ability to engage with most persons, I walked through the open gate cautiously optimistic that my Thailand plan may work. I walked along the dirt path leading to the house still scanning for life forms. Eventually, I reached a truck that was parked near the house under the shade tree. Through a narrow walkway between two buildings, I observed several Buddhist icons that loosely resembled what I had seen in the online photographs. They were housed under a poorly constructed wood structure with no walls and a white tarp for a roof. Tables filled with miscellaneous pots and pans, colorful linens, wicker baskets, and other Asian inspired knick-knacks littered the interior.
One statue was a discolored Naga that lacked any connection to what one would see in Southeast Asia. The second statue was a form of the Buddha I immediately rejected because the image was nondescript and placed in an area not reminiscent of the respect it deserved. My mind roiled, muscles quivered, tears welled, and I came to the conclusion that I was not in “Kansas” anymore. Culture shock rained down like fire as an unyielding desire to scream for relief from what I was witnessing rippled through my consciousness. How could these cultural icons be so badly misrepresented? What is happening in our capitalistic free society that would hamper this global force for love and peace?
The silence was broken by an elderly Asian man who approached me and introduced himself. He wore a wide brimmed sunhat, dirty jeans, and a short sleeved collared shirt. I explained to him that I was looking for a temple to meditate in and offer my services to those who wanted to learn English. He explained that the temple was only used during special occasions and the two-story house was occupied by a small cohort of female Buddhist nuns from Laos. Sensing my disappointment, he stated there was a Buddhist temple on Fruit Avenue and Jensen Avenue in Fresno that was more open to accepting visitors. I asked him if there was an opportunity to assist anyone who might want to hone their English speaking skills and he politely declined.
I walked off the premises feeling a mix of emotions. Any expectation I had formed prior to my arrival had been systematically ripped apart by the circumstances; however, I didn’t feel depressed or sullen. Instead, there was an underlying energy current which sought to continue my journey and open Pandora’s box.