Leaving Home

By Alvin Tsang

Our writers leave the everyday ordinary and seek out the strange, and the provocative

 The words “leaving home” carry many different connotations. Sometimes the words imply a relief of stress; other times, they fill us with tragic thoughts. On this particular evening, the “leaving home” I learned about holds a much deeper meaning. The words entail leaving everything behind: family, friends, school and work, the heart and its feelings, even a person’s own name – all in order to live life as a Buddhist monk. And as strange as it may be for the average person to understand why someone would “leave home” for a life dedicated to religious practice, I now know that it is conversely strange for a monk to look back and talk about his personal life.

As I arrive in front of the suburban home, I give a quick hello to an elderly man at the curb. It turns out he is my translator and advisor for the night. He is a “Si-Hing”: a monk in training. I address him as Ho Si-Hing. He spends a couple of minutes prepping me, reminding me that I am not to shake hands with the Master. Whether it is an irrelevant gesture or an outright forbidden law, I wasn’t sure. He goes on to teach me the correct way to greet a Master, which is to bow very low with both palms pressed together.

The Master I’m here to meet is Master Fa Long, president of the Ottawa Amitabha Buddhist Society of Canada. He travels around the world, performs spirit-cleansing ceremonies, and helps dedicated followers of the Buddha to train and seek perfection within themselves. He is in Ottawa for a month, scheduled to perform a mass spirit-cleansing ceremony at the local Buddhist temple on March 27th. So I’m here to talk to him, to seek the hidden innate Buddha within me, inquire about what it takes to become a Buddhist monk, and to find out what “leaving home” might mean to a Master.

I follow Ho Si-Hing into the house to find it bustling with activity. I didn't stop to make a head count, but I notice there is a crowd of worshippers here, all praying and paying tribute to the Buddha in some way. As we walk through the house, Ho Si-Hing explains to me that a Buddhist monk can never own property, and that it’s an essential part of “leaving home.” To be a monk means to leave behind the “false sense of self” and all the earthly things attached to it; which includes, family, friends, school and work, emotions and feelings. A devotee will even give up his or her own name. Everywhere Master Fa Long goes, devout Buddhists within the local area lend him shelter and bring him food. Apparently, whatever residence he occupies at the time becomes open to any followers of the Buddha.

The music of the sacred instruments give glory to the prayers.

Although crowded, the house is in perfect order; floors are swept, windows are washed, and the mantelpiece is dusted. Hanging from the walls are various pieces of Buddhist art and calligraphy. In the living room, tables are set with silver and golden instruments. I am told that the monks, and monks-to-be, like to read their hymns and sutras while playing instruments. It makes their prayers more fulfilling. Ho Si-Hing says it is the “highest form of praise” to the spirits when mantras are sung.

We walk on to meet Master Fa Long in a more secluded setting – the kitchen. Here I finally meet the Master and his translator, Fung Si-Hing. I bow with the proper hand placement, and in return, Master Fa Long gives a bow of his own and smiles as if to reassure me.

The interview process is complicated: I ask questions in English, Ho Si-Hing translates my English to Cantonese, Fung Si-Hing translates the Cantonese to Mandarin, Master Fa Long answers in Mandarin, and our conversation goes back and forth in a four-way language chain. Before I get to ask my first question, it is required of me to tell Master Fa Long everything that I already know about the religion and on being a Buddhist monk. Although I have no understanding of the complexities and depths of the matter, I do have a basic hereditary knowledge. I go on to tell them what I know of the “leaving home” concept, the spiritual awareness required of it, and the importance of practice of virtue. I sense that the two translators are helping me out a little and revising what I might have gotten wrong, but I guess I’ll never know. Master Fa Long nods and gives permission for me to go ahead and ask my questions.

Fung Si-Hing (left, back), Master Fa Long (left, front), Ho Si-Hing (right, back), me (right, front)

First we talk about the concept of “leaving home.” Master Fa Long explains that the minimum age requirement is seven and that the maximum is 60. Once a person leaves home, he or she will belong to a Buddhist temple, and will reside at the temple from then on, fully devoted to spiritual work. The person will no longer attend school, go to work, or associate himself or herself with family. He or she will also be given a new name. The devotee must also have no belongings, no property, and must remain asexual at all times.

Before a person can leave home to join a temple, he or she must pass a test. This test ensures that certain sutras have been memorized, and additionally, that “leaving home” is something the person wants and feels is right. “One can’t be forced into it,” say all three of them in different languages. “The choice must come from the heart.” Master Fa Long, and the two Si-Hing, explain all of this in a tone that suggests this concept is second-nature to them.

Next we talk about Master Fa Long’s personal experience of “leaving home.” He seems to have been so immersed in the religion that when I ask why he left home, he replies with a bit of questioning, as if to say, “why wouldn’t I?” At the young age of 13, he approached his parents and announced that he wanted to leave home. In just a short amount of time, he passed his test, joined a temple, and became first person in his family to do such a thing. His Buddhist studies went from morning to night, and although exhausting at times, he assures me that it is well worth it in the end, and that being a monk is a lifestyle worth considering.

There is a moment when Master Fa Long gets a little personal and speaks about his family. He tells me that when he first decided to leave home, his mother cried. I’m not sure whether it is relevant, but I notice him pulling at his knitted bracelet and letting it snap back at his wrist. I don’t exactly understand the reason for the behavior, but I have a profound sense, or opinion, if you will, of one’s attempt at warding off longing and nostalgia. Later in the night, I ask Ho Si-Hing about it and he tells me that Buddhist monks rarely talk about their families and that it can be an emotional subject.

Master Fa Long (left), me (right)

Our last conversation of the night is about the future of “leaving home.” Master Fa Long tells me that the Buddhist temples have done a great job in translating the ancient language of the sutras to English. There are now Buddhist institutions that teach in English, and that the English-speaking Buddhist population is growing in number. He ends our meeting by saying that it’s great that young, English-speakers like me have the heart and mind to show an interest in spiritual work.

On my way out, Ho Si-Hing invites me to the mass spirit-cleansing ceremony on March 27th. I accept the invitation with interest. Now that I have a fully-formulated idea of what “leaving home” is all about, I’m definitely curious to see it for myself. I bow and agree to see him at the ceremony.

At the ceremony, several hundred people are in attendance. The vast majority are wearing black robes, a few are in red and Master Fa Long, along with five other Masters, wear their usual brown. I sit in the very back, casually dressed among the cameramen. The chamber is large like an auditorium, complete with a high ceiling and a theatrical light set. At the front of the chamber are statues of the Buddha – the biggest I’ve ever seen, at over two stories tall.

The ceremony consists entirely of musical prayers and mantras. I can’t understand a word of it, but I take note of the energy and enthusiasm, and I sense a high level of concentration and devotion in the room.

Now that I see Master Fa Long at work, I can see that he’s right at home.