Berkley Center

This morning I woke up at 5:45 a.m. and began my daily run, which typically takes me on a winding dirt road, out of the village I live in, around a mountain, through a rubber tree plantation, and into the next village. The switch from dirt road to pavement signals my proximity to the village. Typically when I get into the village, the streets are empty aside from a few grandmothers going about their morning chores and the stray dogs that terrorize me as I run past their property.

On one particular morning, however, I felt like Pheidippides running into Athens. As I entered the village, there were people lining the street, smiling and loudly calling to me in Thai. This reception confused me until a burnt orange flash caught my eye at the top of the street.

Realization dawned, as I understood that the village was giving honor to monks, and that I was violating multiple cultural norms. I quickly had to decide how to respond to the approaching monks. Later on, this incident challenged me to reflect on the extent to which I was willing to participate in customs that I am morally opposed to.

In Thailand, Theravada Buddhism is an integral component of religious, social, and political interactions. At the center of this faith sits the paragons of spiritual purity: monks. In addition to being role models of virtue to the Thai people, monks are at the apex of a social pyramid that influences a large number of beliefs and daily practices.

Incorporated in religious observance is the belief that respect is an essential pillar of a harmonious society. Respect is a value that I have no qualms with upholding, and it is therefore essential that I understand the Thai hierarchy of social importance.

The king is second only to the Buddha in importance, and as such he is the apex of the pyramid of social order; directly below the king follows the monastic order. After this comes a ranking of gender, age, race, social status, and body parts. This social order manifests itself in daily life through the Thai language, which allocates different titles to individuals based on age and position, and through the wai, a physical acknowledgment of your inferiority toward another.

As a 20-year-old white American female, my place within society is constantly oscillating depending upon the company in which I find myself. As such, when I realized the nature of the procession that I had interrupted, I felt rather uncomfortable. The problem was that I was running on the sidewalk, and the monks were standing in the street; this put me in a superior position because I was standing on higher ground than they were. Secondly, I was very sweaty from my run, and Thais value cleanliness very highly. Finally, I did not have anything to offer the monks and felt rather conspicuous running through their merit-giving procession.

Although I value respect and reverence, social stratification is a notion that is irreconcilable with my deeply held beliefs. It is hard for me to accept the idea that because I am a woman, I cannot stand in close proximity to a monk without creating an uncomfortable social situation; nor can I walk in front of a speaker without offending the person, nor be physically higher than someone who is socially superior to me.

Similarly, my Thai roommate, who is one year younger than me, continually defers to me in her decision-making. When I lived with a host family in a slum community, my host parents waied to me first because it was clear that I was from a higher economic standing. In these instances, I am tempted to reject cultural norms and stand for the human rights that my own culture has ingrained in me.

Despite these feelings, when I found myself approaching these monks, I stopped, stepped down into the street, waied, bent my head down, and concentrated on a spot just in front of the monk’s big toe. The villagers seemed happy that I had paid my respect to these monks. As I started to run again, however, one question circled around in my head: What reaction would have ensued if I had simply continued to run past these monks?