Practice Makes Perfect - Symbolic Behaviour and Experience in Western Buddhism. Sandra Bell Dept. of Anthropology University of Durham 43 Old Elvet Durham, DH1 3HN, UK This paper is concerned with the development of Theravada monasticism in Britain and in particular with the role of the monastery as a centre for the transmission of Theravada Buddhism to a Western context. It develops the idea that the stylised and ritual character of life at the British monastery is the chief means by which ideological content is shaped, transmitted and absorbed. And that this takes place within a continuous performance involving actors with distinct parts to play as monks, nuns and lay people. The people who occupy these roles in Britain differ from their Asian counterparts in two important ways. Firstly they are almost always adult converts, only a very few have been brought up by Buddhist parents. Secondly, they form but a small minority in a society with extensive religious pluralism and a fully secular state. Also, unlike Hinduism and Islam, Buddhism in Britain has not sprung from the midst of immigrant communities. Though Asian monks and lay people have provided encouragement and some material assistance, the growth of Theravada Buddhism in Britain has been instigated and fostered by mostly white, middle class and well educated people, and during the period from the middle of the nineteen seventies to the middle of the nineteen eighties, when the monasteries were being founded, monks and lay people in the twenty to forty year old age range played a significant and energetic role. There are currently four related Theravada monasteries in Britain that have evolved over the past two decades. The discussion presented here emerges from ethnographic research carried out at the largest monastery at Great Gaddesden in rural Hertfordshire and the smaller establishment at Harnham in Northumberland. Of the other two monasteries one, which is specifically intended for the training of monks, is situated at Chithurst in West Sussex and the other near Honiton in Devon. The Theravada "congregation" is far flung and covers small numbers of people who are often, though not necessarily, members of almost forty local groups throughout Britain for whom the monasteries act as focal points. A newsletter is published four times a year from the Hertfordshire monastery and is sent free of charge to a list of 1500 recipients. Many of the lay people are not personally known to one another, but their shared interest in the Theravada teachings, their mutual practice of meditation, their joint support for the monasteries through donations and attendance leads them to conceive of themselves, together with the monks and nuns, as a "community." This sense of community and its Buddhist identity is woven around the existence of the British Forest Sangha, the order of monks, who in this case are meditating monks, linked through pupilliary succession to the recently deceased Thai meditation master, and ascetic monk Ajahn Chah. In Britain the majority of the lay people are also meditators and the monks are their teachers and models. All the monasteries have facilities for lay people. Amaravati, the monastery in Hertfordshire was intended specifically as a centre for lay visitors and its locality selected because its position combines a quiet rural setting with access to the large population centres of the south east. Unlike many of the so called "new religions" the Theravadins have no established programmes for the recruitment and induction of supporters or converts. Instead the monasteries are regarded by the monks, nuns and lay supporters as inherently attractive. This belief is based on the notion that the monasteries embody the Buddhist aspiration to create exemplary moral and spiritual environments that are founded on the monks' discipline as laid out in the Vinaya-pitaka, a section of the Theravada scriptural canon. The principal abbot, an American monk of 28 years seniority, Abbot Ajahn Sumedho speaks of the monasteries as models of "virtuous society" <1> and so inherently attractive and self-evidently beneficial for anyone who might be genuinely seeking a spiritual home. To create and sustain the central symbol of the Theravada mission in Britain - the monastery itself - is therefore a priority. It requires supporters and participants of a kind who are willing to experience and contribute to a social environment that is constructed for the explicit purpose of affecting their own and others' moral and cognitive perceptions and responses. The manner by which this is achieved is the focus of the ethnographic material in this article while the theoretical perspective examines the institution of the monastery as a continuous ritual performance, creating a Buddhist world of experience that depends on certain preferred forms of behaviour and communicative genres. Ritual and performance In a discussion on the possible scope of what might legitimately be included in the social domain of ritual Tambiah cites "enactments, performances and festivities which one can identify as typical or focal examples of `ritual' events" <2>. For Tambiah, as a general rule ritual is "a culturally constructed system of symbolic communication - that is to say, its cultural content is grounded in particular cosmological or ideological constructs" <3>. Tambiah's analysis of ritual as "an enacted event" <4>. derives from his view that "ritual action in its constitutive features is performative" <5>. Tambiah employs the term performative as a portmanteau word. He goes on to explain that it bears "three senses: in the Austinian sense of performative, wherein saying something is also doing something as a conventional act: in the quite different sense of a staged performance that uses multiple multi-media by which the participants experiencing the event intensively; and in the sense of indexical values - I derive this concept from Pierce - being attached to and inferred by actors during the performance." Throughout this article I will employ the term performative in a manner that follows Tambiah in its inclusiveness, and aspire to demonstrate through the ethnographic data the flavour of Tambiah's "constitutive features" of ritual as conventional act, staged performance and indexicality. The ethnographic data also indicates the "real life" interdependency of these analytically distinct concepts At the British Theravada monastery the interactive processes between people are metaphorical and many-layered and the key to understanding them lies in their mutuality and inclusiveness. At the monastery, which is the domain of lay people as well as that of monks, interactions take place within a symbolic configuration that includes all the actors simultaneously. Familiarity with the ritualised meanings of this configuration enables participants to deduce and occupy their place in relation to immediate others and to the overall scheme of life in the monastery. It is thus possible to explore the monastery as an association of people occupying a sacred social space with parameters that are ritually acknowledged. One interpretation, I suggest, is to imagine this space as an arena in which specifically Buddhist ways of structuring activities, relationships and time are observed. Consider, for example, the way that the ordering of the monastery is encoded through the management of time. The monastic day begins at five a.m. with the sound of the monastery bell to summon inhabitants to meditation. Meditation is followed by a breakfast of rice gruel and then by chores. The second and final meal of the day is taken before noon. There is a brief rest and the afternoon is occupied by maintenance of buildings and grounds (building work has been a feature of the monasteries as they have been renovated and expanded). At 5pm beverages are served and evening meditation begins at seven. Even on festival days, apart from the afternoon work period, the schedule is adhered to. Because it is designed to meet the regulations of the Vinaya concerning the waking time of monks and their intake of food and to accommodate periods of meditation, it seems reasonable to regard such structuring of time at the monastery as an example of ritual behaviour and an aspect of the symbolic order. However, the structuring of time is but one element of a wider pattern that informs an on-going "enacted event," encompassing a strict and orthodox interpretation of the Vinaya tradition by the monks, yet sufficiently inventive to permit fresh developments such as the nuns order, about which more will be said later. The further elements of this pattern, the ascription of the participants into various roles, the means through which these roles are acted out, their meaning and status, their permeability, as well as the relations between them contribute to the social dynamics of the monastery being accurately figured as a performance. From an anthropological perspective this view is particularly interesting because it provides an example of performative behaviour that is neither theatre or spectacle for it exists solely for the performers. Neither is the routine of the monastery immediately recognisable as a specific rite or ritual in that it does not consist of an event that is marked by a beginning and a conclusion. Instead the monastery is a series of events that embrace and respond to the flow of everyday life, along with its unpredictability, its comings and goings and unforeseen circumstances. Though formalised and bounded ritual events do occur at the monastery, as for example the evening chanting and meditation session, they are only a part of the eternal performance which consists of many interactions and relations The idea that life at the monastery is a kind of performance is made quite explicit by some of these participants. During my research a nun described the daily life of the monastery as "like a beautiful dance." And a monk spoke of the monastic conventions as an attempt to "act out" the Buddha's teaching, the Dhamma. He told me: "These situations (the monasteries) are rather like a theatre where you are entering a Dhamma environment, rather like you enter a theatre and you become part of the Dhamma theatre." Taking this cue, I prefer to employ the word "arena" as an explanation for performative aspect of the monastery, rather than the word "theatre", because arena carries connotations of more accessible, extemporaneous and inclusive socio-physical arrangements than are commonly associated with the theatre in the West. Arena, as opposed to theatre, indicates a less radical demarcation between spectators (audience) and participants (players), as its common use in the term "political arena" implies. As will be demonstrated later, at the monastery, though physically bounded by hedges and fences and socially constructed through cultural codes, access is not strictly controlled at the margins and allowance is made for various levels of participation. The monastery For the most part ethnographic description in this article will concentrate on the Hertfordshire monastery known as Amaravati, a word that in the Theravada sacred language of Pali means "the deathless realm." Situated six miles from Berkhamstead, it was founded in 1985 and two years later there were forty monks and nuns and trainee monks and nuns in residence. It is officially known as Amaravati Buddhist Centre, as a way of indicating that it includes facilities for lay people as well as monks and nuns, but it is constantly referred to as "the monastery" and rarely as "the centre", because everyday life here is led according to the ethos and rhythms of monastic life. The monks are Westerners and many of the most senior took ordination in Thailand where they trained in the highly ascetic discipline of meditating forest monks. The Pali term for a monk is bhikkhu and in Britain the word is used interchangeably with monk. The Western monks follow a strict interpretation of the 227 rules of behaviour and comportment set out in the Vinaya-pitaka of the Pali canon, which prescribe absolute celibacy and mendicancy. The nuns follow a variant of the Vinaya and they too are mendicant and celibate. Mendicancy entails, at minimum, a relationship of economic dependency with the lay people providing material support for the monks. In Britain meditating monks have also to undertake a pastoral and a teaching role, partly because they are the only monks available. Consequently they develop relationships with lay people that go beyond the economic sphere. Conventions of behaviour within the monastery are referred to by British Theravada Buddhists as the "form", although sometimes usage of the term may refer to the Theravada itself, as opposed to some other school of Buddhism. The main behavioural features of the form involve polite, measured and restrained action in voice, movement and deed. It is "bad form" for an adult to run; to shout; to argue; to shriek with laughter or display too much excitement; to assert oneself forcefully; to interrupt conversations, especially those of monks or nuns; to dance or listen to music; to gossip about the business of others; to tell untruths about oneself or others; to swear; to boast about spiritual attainment; to drink alcohol; to eat greedily or to eat anything but tiny amounts of permitted foods after noon; to be wasteful; to act in a flirtatious or immodest manner; to wear shoes indoors, lay down except when resting in bed; touch monks, nuns or novices, including shaking hands in greeting. It is "good form" to be respectful to monks and nuns or if you are a monk or nun to be respectful to one's seniors and to the Abbot; to act in a quiet and kindly way towards others; to raise problems in a manner that eschews blame or anger; to share resources; to be generous; to offer assistance to others; to be good humoured; to avoid creating dissent; to ameliorate dissent; to avoid harm to living creatures; to harbour resources. It is arguable that the "form" exists not merely as a means of social control, but also as a means of communication, a compelling dramaturgical performance in which all-comers necessarily participate. Though many participants pay much attention to the physical surroundings of the monastery, which are adapted to facilitate Theravada practices and are adorned with Buddhist iconography, these elements are regarded primarily as an opportune setting for the exploration, management and desired transformation of the self. In Buddhism the notion of the self as an essential and enduring attribute of individual human beings is considered erroneous. The doctrine of anatta (no-self) together with the doctrine of anicca (impermanence) teach that all phenomena, including consciousness, are the result of a process of cause and effect which is constantly in flux. Existential truth reveals that "everything that arises passes away." Deluded and ignorant human beings experience discomfort and suffering (Pali - dukkha) because of their failure to internalise this truth. Human beings are said to compound their own misery by clinging to the idea of phenomena as permanent and mistakenly perceiving the self as the solid and enduring core of their being. Monks convey this teaching to lay people and to one another explicitly through their sermons (Pali - desana) and also implicitly through the strict observance of their rules which are intended to minimise the power of the delusions which lead to false views of self. Meditation is another means of discovering the true reality of selflessness. However, as well as the inner work of meditation the outer work of relating to others also determines progress along the path which leads to escape from the tyranny of false views of self. Arrogance, pride, self-importance, selfishness and lack of respect for the rules of the monastery are considered as kinds of behaviour that hinder progress for oneself, and distress and hamper others. The atmosphere of the monastery is intended to be both "moral" and "peaceful" as a reflection of the calm inner state (Pali - samatha) which is necessary for the more investigative penetration of insight meditation (Pali - vipassana). Theravada Buddhism holds that success in meditation requires a firm foundation in morality (Pali - sila). Without sila there is likely to be a disruptive dissonance between the inner and the outer worlds which will hinder the meditator and can only be averted by acknowledging their interdependency. Peopling the monastery - the dramatis personae The present buildings at Amaravati consists of twenty fairly large single story wooden structures that are clustered together in one section of thirty acres of grounds. They were previously used as a local authority school for children with educational difficulties and are unembellished and utilitarian in appearance. However, this arrangement of single storey buildings was considered by the English Sangha Trust (the charitable body which oversees the finances of the monastery) to be particularly suitable because it roughly coincides with a pattern of monastery building that is common in Thailand, where many of the most senior of the Western monks received their monastic training. In the centre of the buildings is an open quadrangle which houses the bronze image of a standing Buddha, while several yards away over a raised bank is a gleaming white stupa that is circumambulated by the monks and lay people on special occasions such as Wesak, celebration of the birth, death and enlightenment of the Buddha. The grounds are used for walking meditation , particularly during the all night meditation sessions held on "observance days" that follow the phases of the lunar cycle. The number of buildings was also considered by the Trustees - who include both monks and lay people - as befitting the requirements for segregation between different categories of persons at the monastery. As will be made clear these categories are several, but most important is the distinction between monastics (monks and nuns) and lay people.. Taking into account the different kinds of people and the various positions which each might occupy in regard to the whole I think it sociologically fruitful to regard the people at Amaravati as a shifting group. Membership of this shifting group, at any one time, varies in composition, individual degree of participation and commitment, from the monks and the nuns to the occasional lay visitor, to the lay person who spends much of his or her spare time at the monastery, to the retreatant, and the lone seeker for whom the monastery is a kind of haven. The concept of the shifting, yet cohesive, group resonates with the idea of the monastery as a ritual centre, an arena composed of interactive networks, with palpable yet malleable social boundaries. Moreover, just as the overall composition of the group of people involved in the social entity that is Amaravati alters and reforms, so do the composition of the categories within it. The peopling of the monastery is shaped and reshaped according to the relationship between the various niches and their symbolic ordering, but the personnel who inhabit those niches may move from one to another over time. As descendants of the Buddha through their links with a 2,000 year old ordination lineage, the monks occupy the centre of the symbolic order. Next are the nuns. Then come the novice monk and nuns. In Britain a novice is known as an anagarika (Pali - homeless one). After the anagarika niche there is that of the devout lay person of either gender who assists with the running of the monasteries and their Trusts or the organising of meditation groups in localities across Britain. People such as this are often referred to as being "close to the Sangha" and at present they are engaged in creating a more formal network of organisation which is to be termed the upasaka practice. Upasaka is a Pali word meaning lay person. In Asia it is sometimes applied specifically to those people, often the elderly, who are devout and spend more time at the monastery than does the average lay person. After them come the regular lay people who visit the monastery on a more or less routine basis. Next are the lay supporters who make donations by covenant, but visit only rarely, perhaps because they live some distance away, or who come bearing gifts on special occasions. They are followed by the casual visitor who may be a relative of one of the monks or nuns, or someone who is not a Buddhist, but who enjoys the monastery. Finally there are the one off visitors, such as the schoolchildren, who come to find out what a Buddhist monastery is about. All of these categories, which are not necessarily so finely calibrated in the minds of the actual participants, are permeable in both directions. A monk may disrobe and become a rare visitor, an anagarika may become a monk, or revert to being an ordinary lay person., a lay person may become an anagarika , and a lay person may change from being an upasaka to being a regular lay person. What is important here is the fact that just as the monks occupy a central position in relation to all the other niches that are more or less close or distant from them, so their rule, the Vinaya, including its instructions on how to relate to lay people, is axiomatic in determining the inter-personal behaviour of all the people at the monastery and lies at the heart of what was earlier referred to as the form. The central role of the monks is indicated by the asymmetry of their relations with lay people . Monks are known by Pali names and by the honorific title, Venerable, or if they have been a monk for ten years by the Thai term Ajahn, meaning teacher. The etiquette of the monastery requires lay people to defer to both monks and nuns. When greeting monks lay people place their hands together in the anjali gesture and make a slight bow of the head. Although junior monks will do the same when addressing senior monks, monks never return the anjali gesture to lay people. Within the monastery the monks and nuns are allocated separate quarters from the lay people The next most significant segregation follows the contours of gender. The nuns' order is an innovation peculiar to Britain, but resonant of attempts to establish similar structures in contemporary South and South East Asia. The original order of Theravada nuns (Pali - bhikkhuni) has not been extant in Asia since the period between the late tenth and twelfth centuries AD <6>. The nuns' order in Britain is not a full scale revival of the bhikkhuni order and the nuns are not known as such, instead they are known by the Pali term siladhara ("one who cultivates virtue"). The nuns have their own quarters and their own shrine room where they meditate each morning with the female lay visitors whose guest house is adjacent to the nuns' quarters. The male guest house is adjacent to the monks' residence (Pali - vihara). The male and female residential quarters are at a maximum distance from one another as might be expected in social environment that demands celibacy of its inhabitants. Segregation by gender and religious status combine during the communal evening meditation sessions when lay people sit towards the rear of the large hall, facing the shrine. Described from the lay people's perspective, monks sit in front of, and to the right of, the shrine. The monks face the nuns who are to the left of the shrine. The nuns and monks are lined up according to seniority, which is calculated not upon age, but upon the duration of time spent as a monk or a nun. The most senior is placed closest to the shrine. The seating arrangements as a whole, together with the shrine, form a four sided square with open space in the middle. If the Abbot of Amaravati and spiritual leader of the British Theravada community, Ajahn Sumedho is present he sits at the foot of the shrine facing the lay people, who are divided in two halves with the men sitting to the right, thereby associating with the monks, and the women to the left, associating with the nuns. The personal space occupied by each individual is marked by the cloth mat on which they sit. These formalised proxemic arrangements thus both separate and unify. The different categories of persons are grouped accordingly, and the individual is marked out by the allocation of bounded personal space. However, separateness of identity, while marked, is simultaneously merged in the corporate nature of the enterprise - to gather for meditation before the shrine -at the centre of which is a huge and shining image of the Buddha whose cross legged and straight backed posture the assembled company embody through emulation. Another dimension of segregation at the monastery is that between people who are not undertaking a meditation retreat and people who are on retreat. Certain buildings at Amaravati have been set aside to provide lay people with a retreat centre. Retreats, which may last from several days to several weeks, are led by senior monks and nuns. Though the retreat centre is close to the other buildings of the monastery it is cordoned off. Retreatants, as they are known in British Buddhist circles, spend several hours a day meditating and during the periods in between they may walk in the grounds or use the monastery library. Though they do not take a formal vow of silence, retreatants do undertake to refrain from chattering and "normal" levels of conversation. They are often to be seen carrying out walking meditation as relief from the protracted sitting, or simply taking a stroll. It is often possible to distinguish retreatants because of their particularly marked demeanour of studied quietude, but even lay visitors who are not on retreat may sometimes employ such a demeanour in order to communicate withdrawal. In contrast to the outside world, at the monastery it is not considered rude, impolite or a sign of distress to make it clear that one wishes to be left alone. Nevertheless, if lay visitors withdraw for long periods into their rooms and do not attend meetings, work sessions, meditation sessions or meal-times the monk or nun acting as "guest-master" will reprove them. When there is no change in behaviour the visitor will be asked to leave because of his or her refusal to join in what is termed "the life of the community." Lay visitors who are not on retreat range from people who are staying for up to three months and those who are visiting for a few hours. Not all are Buddhists. For example I met one man who told me that he was a Christian. He came from London once a week to spend a day at the monastery because he liked its "peaceful atmosphere." I have met many others at the monastery who represent some intermediate position between self-ascribed Buddhist lay people and actively hostile outsiders. The latter, usually in the form of inebriated local youths, do occasionally visit the monastery late at night. The two entrances from the road which runs along side the grounds have no gates and no signs proclaiming privacy; to the contrary the main gate has a sign saying "Visitors Welcome." One night a car drove round the quadrangle at high speed, screeched to a halt, disgorged its occupants who gleefully overturned the presiding bronze Buddha and then drove off. Other kinds of young people come to appraise the monastery as part of their religious education and there are numerous school visits. I met up with one group of teenagers from the north of England who came with their teachers to stay the night and to take part in what one teacher described as" the pattern of life." The teenagers' behaviour was shy and awkward, but under the watchful eyes of their teachers they followed the rules to the letter. Some visitors to Amaravati are long term supporters who contribute regular donations to its upkeep or to one of the other monasteries. Some are local people who may attend the evening meditation session on a regular basis, while others come from abroad during their vacations. There are those who live in Britain, but who only visit the monastery occasionally, perhaps for special festive occasions when they bring gifts of food and other items, but even these people may make regular financial contributions through covenants to the Trust. The primary intention of the English Sangha Trust was to establish monasteries to serve the indigenous population as Asian expatriates and immigrants were already served by small Sri Lankan and Thai establishments in London. However, members of these groups are welcomed at the EST monasteries and do constitute a proportion of the lay visitors, especially at Amaravati. It is very difficult to establish the proportions with regard to the ethnic mix among the lay people, as some Asian families may only visit Amaravati on special family occasions, such as a birthday or the anniversary of the death of a relative, and with the express purpose of making prestations to the monks. There are also British people of Asian and mixed Asian-British descent, but the majority of the visitors are relatively prosperous and educated British middle class people without Asian antecedents. Most have formally accepted the five lay precepts not to kill, not to steal, not to lie, not to behave with sexual impropriety or to take intoxicants that might lead them to break any of the four other precepts. Preparedness to accept the broad code of behaviour enshrined in the precepts is often marked by a short ceremony in which the lay person recites them in front of one or several monks. But in the monastery the lay person's code is more strict and comes closer to that of the monks'. For example they are forbidden any intoxicants or erotic behaviour whatsoever. The code also proscribes listening to music and prescribes modest attire and behaviour. Sometimes lay people come to the monastery to die. This does not happen very often because people with terminal illness tend to require special medical care which is not available at the monastery, although there has been much talk over the years of establishing a Buddhist hospice. But it can and does happen. The monks and nuns are especially likely to care for elderly people who have devoted much of their lives to the cause of Buddhism in Britain and one of them, a woman, is buried in a grave in the grounds close to the stupa. The "form" The "form" is a kind of shorthand term for the totality of the monastic conventions, and the interpretation and negotiation of its finer points contribute to the interactive quality of the ritual arena, as when the "guest master" is supposed to deploy kindness and tact to discover from the visitor who consistently fails to attend the morning meditation whether his reasons are legitimate ones, such as ill health, or if he is simply failing to play his part. It includes not only the rules of behaviour that must be followed by the monks and nuns, but also the etiquette which guides the behaviour of lay people towards monks and nuns and towards one another. It corresponds to what Erving Goffman has described as "guided doings", those "systems of entities, postulates and rules" that taken together create the frameworks that govern interactive processes within a particular social group and "constitute a central element of its culture" <7>. In the monastery a monk might be heard to say something like: "This form provides me with the foundation for mindfulness. Or a lay person might be heard to remark: "Oh, I wouldn't do that because it might offend against the form." "Form" when used in these expressions indicates tangible patterns of behaviour and communicative genres that take place between the members of the group. The form vitalises and gives shape to the entire performance of life at the monastery and it accomplishes this through the interplay of the "three senses of performative" referred to earlier. We have seen for example, that a regular feature in the sequence of ritual events is the "staged performance" of the evening meditation and there can be no doubt, as the following section will confirm, that the monastery is replete with "conventional acts." Indexical signs are also ubiquitous, pointing to Tambiah's "indexical values." If an index may be said to be caused by, or is part of that which it indicates and might be identified with it <8>, then the everyday comportment of the monks and nuns with its intention to both internalise and communicate equanimity is fully indexical in its expression of orthodox Theravadin values. The monastery is thus the performative arena in which the participants improvise their roles by testing their personal styles of behaviour in response to the form. The form is a template for the symbolic ordering of relations within a prevailing ideology that values accomplishments such as concentration ( Pali - samadhi ) mindfulness (Pali - sati) equanimity (Pali - upekkha), and a morality founded on control of the passions of greed, anger and attachment. These passions are said to account for the human capacity for self-delusion and ignorance and explain the universality of human suffering and anxiety (Pali - dukkha) which the Dhamma, the Buddha's teaching exists to overcome. Some players take largely incidental or "bit" parts, such as the members of the school party, who are close to being spectators in that they have come to "see" the monastery at work, or even the disruptive element who communicate their response to the main players through a brief act of pure iconoclasm. It is possible for a player within the arena to move from a modicum of participation towards the centre, or fulcrum of action which encompasses a more total experience. At its centre the performance is totally involving, complex, elaborate and increasingly potent with affective meaning that is communicated outwards towards the periphery. I will try to illustrate my arguments further by discussing some of the communicative genres through which form is created and expressed. These are appearance, etiquette and pragmatics. APPEARANCE: Those who are placed towards the centre, the monks, nuns and trainee monks and nuns are radically different in appearance to those towards the periphery. They explain and accept their shaven head and eyebrows as a means for diminishing features that distinguish and emphasise the uniqueness of personality. Bald head and eyebrows make people look more alike. From the outsiders' perspective this similarity of appearance signifies membership of the Sangha and from the insiders' perspective it signifies an important doctrinal requirement to overcome the limitations of the ego. The uniformity of the robes are also seen as a means for identifying the British Sangha with the wider Theravada Sangha and when adaptations were called for due to the inclemency of a northern climate they were carried out in consultation with Thai and Sri Lankan monks, particularly the elders of the Thai ecclesiastical authority, the Mahatherasamakom, who approved the suggestion that British monks should adopt the use of a jacket especially designed to wear underneath the robes. A document sent to the Mahatheras in Thailand described the jacket as "styled in accordance with the principles of Dhamma-Vinaya, i.e. it is cut without shaping, and only simple cloth tags are used" (as fastenings). Concessions were also made to allow the monks to wear socks, sandals and close fitting hats. Though the jacket was required for warmth part of the year, it is was decided that it should be worn at all times and that the Thai custom of draping the robes leaving one shoulder bare should be eschewed in Britain. The document states: "In England ordained people have traditionally used very modest flowing garments. The bare arms, shoulders and chests are associated with immodesty and low class." It should be noted how the issue of the modification of the robes, is cast in terms which seek first to confirm the orthodoxy of the British Sangha through its dealings with the conservative Thai ecclesiastical authorities, and, secondly, to establish a principle of responding and adapting to new cultural, as well as climatic, circumstances. The costumes of monks, nuns and novices are colour coded. Nuns wear chocolate brown robes which are formulated on a similar design to the saffron robes of the monks. The anagarika wears white and on formal occasions a white cloth is folded across the shoulders and may be used as a wrap. Each monk or nun is in personal possession of a bowl from which the main meal of the day is taken. The bowls are presented to the monks and nuns along with a set of robes by a lay sponsor at the ordination ceremony and are a powerful symbol of mendicant status. The Vinaya makes special reference to the handling of the alms bowl and the monks are taught to treat it "as if it were the head of the Buddha." It is significant that the alms bowl, which clearly stands for the monks' dependence on the laity, should be analogous to the sacred head of the Buddha, founder of the Order and personification of the principle of Enlightenment. The bowl is therefore treated as an important ritual object and a prop which proclaims the nature of the relationship between its owner and the lay people. ETIQUETTE: As strict mendicants the monks and nuns require that every item which they consume, even a cup of tea, must be "formally offered" so that it is unmistakably intended for their consumption alone. Left-over foodstuff that is offered to the monks and nuns may be consumed by any of the lay people once the monks and nuns have had their share. Doubt as to whether an item is specifically intended for the monks and nuns means that it will usually be left. I once came across two nuns who were taking a break from painting the outside of the nuns' residence. They were staring at a tray of tea which had been deposited on the grass by an unknown lay person at around the usual time for tea break . The nuns were thirsty, but they could not drink the tea because they were not entirely sure that it was intended for them, though it was hard to see for whom else it could have been set down in that particular spot. The tea had not been placed in the hands of the nuns, nor had the donor invited the nuns to drink the tea with the formulaic "May I offer you a cup of tea?" At the point of my arrival on the scene the nuns were staring at the tray and debating the propriety of drinking it. "If we drink it," said one, "we will have to mention it to a senior nun." But they were saved either the prospect of "confession" or that of going unrefreshed on a hot afternoon by my offering them the tray, thus rendering the tea freely drinkable. Such fine points of etiquette are particularly applicable to the monks and nuns who are meant to display a dignified and upright bearing and to sit modestly It is not necessary for lay people to behave so formally among themselves. Although there is a tendency for exaggerated politeness especially in relation to the sharing of food, and recently I attended a meeting of prominent lay people, none of whom were Asian, where it was interesting to note that some were making the anjali gesture when addressing one another. In the most public parts of the monastery, that is all areas outside the guest house lay people are expected to move and sit in modest postures. PRAGMATICS: According to David Crystal: "Pragmatics studies the factors that govern our choice of language in social interaction and the effects of our choice on others" <9>. By extension, regulations and conventions concerning the contexts in which utterance or non-utterance are appropriate or not; their style of execution; and their implications for others, may be placed in the realm of pragmatics. Just so too are the moral and imperatives which articulate collective views of what to choose, as are any assertions that may be present about the effects of such choices with regard to utterance. It is possible for a relatively homogenous world-view to embrace and express its own view on pragmatics which may seek to foster associations between it and other levels of the ideological system. Buddhism, of course, entailed such a development from its outset, and contemporary orthodox Theravada Buddhist doctrine continues to accentuate the moral dangers of "heedless" speech, and to maintain that it is through silence that fruitful spiritual endeavours are best pursued. The use of silence instead of speech and the stress on "appropriate speech" therefore fall within the communicative repertoire of the monastery. Through the practice of absolute silence in group meditation twice a day for those who are not on retreat, and more frequently for those who are, even the apparently intensely intrapersonal activity of meditation takes on an interpersonal dimension. To this extent the Buddhists practice parallels that of the Christian Quakers, or Society of Friends who value silence for what one modern Quaker describes as "the exploration of the interior life", and, in addition, for "loving communion" <10>. When the latter occurs the Quaker meeting for worship is said to be "gathered." In a similar way the corporate silence of the Buddhist meditation room creates the company of the savaka-sangha, the Pali term which literally means "the assembly of listeners" and is used to describe the combined company of monastics and lay people. The symbolic significance of relative, if not absolute, silence is extended to the monastery as a whole. The proximity of the retreat centre is a persistent reminder that others are practising long periods of absolute silence and notices are placed strategically to draw attention to the fact. Speech in all its variants is measured against the supreme value of silence, which is prized because of the moral dangers that are associated with speech. In Buddhism the third factor of the Noble Eightfold Path, the prescriptive path to spiritual liberation is Right Speech. There are numerous rules in the Vinaya pertaining to the requirement for guarded speech and the avoidance of deceit through the speaking of untruths. Right Speech appears in the five precepts of the laity as abstention from untruth. But at the monastery the lay people are taught by the monks that this precept is much more than a resolve not to tell lies. Lay people who are serious about their Buddhism are encouraged to emulate the monks in exercising restraint in their utterances. As pointed out previously, this means forswearing idle gossip and speculation which may smear the reputation of another, or lead to misunderstanding, as well as avoiding exaggeration, argumentative postures and derogatory remarks about others. Most admit to finding this a most difficult instruction to follow, both in and out of the monastery. It is quite common for people at the monastery to check themselves in mid-stream of a conversation and self-consciously change tack as they hear themselves embarking on what they judge to be an infringement. There is on the other hand plenty of talk at the monastery, visitors become friends and counsel one another, monks give sermons and advise lay people, meetings are held to plan events, work projects are planned and organised, people discuss the books they are reading and strangers readily share their stories with one another, but the prevailing sentiment is that language, particularly speech must be seen to be made to work for, rather than against the goal of self-cultivation. The message is relayed, repeated and reinterpreted through sermons which are often reproduced as tapes and booklets, in the monks' counselling of the lay people and in daily conversations. This can make for a very intense socio-emotional atmosphere and some people can become upset by it. Sometimes quite seriously distressed people end up at the monastery and relatives or social workers have to be contacted to retrieve them. Once when a guest became extremely agitated and aggressive the police were enlisted. When tension arises a majority tend to cluster around the firmly Buddhist idea that it is after all to be expected, because it is predicated in "the teaching" (Dhamma) that human beings find it difficult not to create disturbance and contention. Disruption, and the pain of disruption, are regarded as an unavoidable feature of life anywhere and the monastery which is open to all-comers cannot be considered immune, despite the best efforts of its inhabitants.. Experience, thus proves the correctness of "the teaching" from which it is concluded that "the teaching" can also be trusted when it prescribes a quietist response, through the cultivation of mindfulness and the development of equanimity (Pali - upekkha) which lead to wisdom (Pali - panna). There is also a great deal of trust in the charismatic and patriarchal authority of the Abbot, whose demeanour and behaviour is perceived by the majority as representing the refinement of equanimity and wisdom. The monks, nuns and novices are voluntarily subordinate to Ajahn Sumedho as a pupil is subordinate to a teacher. Anyone who seriously challenges these views in conversations at the monastery is unlikely to receive enough support to found an alliance because they emanate from and point to the frequently repeated core value of "trust in the Dhamma, Buddha, Sangha" on which the entire monastic enterprise in Britain is proclaimed by the major players to be founded. Conclusion Codes relating to appearance, etiquette and pragmatics as described above conjoin with the structure of social relationships described in the earlier section to produce a very particular and self-conscious cultural scenario. In the light of this it should be recalled that the monk and nun quoted earlier have no compunction about explicitly describing the monastery as a kind of performance. To do so does not denigrate their life as a kind of empty make-believe. In both cases the performance metaphor was used in contexts where the informants were keen to stress that although life at the monastery is governed by rules and constrained by routines it is for them a liberating and dynamic experience that challenges the narrow confines of ego-centric behaviour through the drama of its enactment. From the position of the monk and the nun, the prescribed styles and patterns of interaction at the monastery encourage and enable the practice of Buddhist virtues, such as equanimity and mindfulness, by focusing on the minutiae of interpersonal behaviour to an degree unusual in modern Western culture. The idea of religious practice as performance echoes the spirit of the Vinaya and resonates with a perspective that informs the whole of orthodox Theravada Buddhist teaching that reality emerges from the desires and volition of sentient beings. The performance analogy actually articulates a fundamental assumption of Buddhism that the moral transformation of outward interpersonal behaviour can purify the mind of the individual. Pursuit of the soteriological goal of Enlightenment is founded upon generosity (Pali - dana), morality (Pali - sila) and meditation (Pali - samadhi). It is considered fruitless to meditate without the support of a moral life. Among Buddhists a moral life is measured more in deeds than thoughts. Wanting to steal something is not a sin, transgression occurs only through action, "taking that which is not given." Providing the person acts as if they do not want to steal their actual feelings on the matter do not count. Behaving "as if" something is the case is quite permissible in Buddhism and does not lead to questions about authenticity as it can in Judeo-Christian moral theory. Concern about inner motives and degrees of authenticity have informed much discussion among scholars who study ritual as noted by Myerhoff who provides a thumbnail sketch of the debate in the following quotation. "Rappaport has stressed the irrelevance of 'authentic' experience in rituals. Lying, he points out, is common and permissible. Ritual is a performative genre; one performs a statement of belief through a gesture. That is all that is socially required and that is of interest to the society. Personal feelings are irrelevant; genuflection is all. Indeed, he suggests, all ritual is a kind of lie, the lie of 'as if' which Goffman and Bateson refer to as 'the frame', which Langer calls with more kindness a sort of virtual magic, which in the theatre is simply the willing, suspension of disbelief, which as experimental, ludic creatures, by evolution, we all know as 'Let's pretend'." <11> In his discussions on the relationship between ritual and belief <12> Rappaport stresses that he is not to referring to "lies in the ordinary sense," because sacred postulates are "in their nature unfalsifiable" <13>. Instead he is focusing on the contrast between acceptance, which he regards as "intrinsic to performance" in its public and participatory aspects and belief <14>. "Acceptance," he asserts "is not belief. It does not even imply belief" <15>. Participation in liturgical performance, though highly visible may not be very profound and does not necessarily indicate or produce an "inward state conforming to it directly" <16>. However, Rappaport suggests that "for this very reason it is in some sense very profound for it makes it possible for the performer to transcend his own doubt by accepting in defiance of it. Acceptance in this sense has much in common with some theological notions of faith." In the Buddhist view time spent at the monastery, abiding by the precepts, meditating and contemplating the "meanings" signified by monastic life is a spiritual method based on "acceptance." Understanding of the "resistance" that arises towards the discipline is considered by the monks to be part of the process of spiritual growth. Ajahn Sumedho has written about his early days in Ajahn Chah's forest monastery in Thailand in the following terms. "But the important thing is to understand is the doubting mind. I saw that it was not up to me to decide which was the best or the quickest way to do anything, but to understand my own uncertainty. So I began to investigate the mental state that would arise when doubt was put into my mind, and after a while I began to accept any kind of doubt, regarding it as a changing condition". <17> In discussing a similar set of problems Tambiah focuses less on the distinction between "ordinary lies" and the transcendence of doubt through acceptance, in favour of a distinction between "ordinary" communication and ritual behaviour. <18> Ordinary acts "express" things directly so that for example "crying denotes distress in Western society". Ritual conventions on the other hand "act at a second or third remove: they code not intentions but `simulations' of intentions" <19>. He goes on to discuss Langer's ideas that ritual is "not a sign of the emotion it conveys but a symbol of it; instead of completing the natural history of a meaning, it denotes the feeling and may merely bring it to mind..... when an actor acquires such a meaning it becomes a gesture" <20>. This implies that ritual is not about the free expression of emotions but a "disciplined rehearsal of `right attitudes' " <21>. In the Buddhist case there is a list of eight "right attitudes" listed in the formula known as the Eightfold Noble Path (including right understanding, right thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness and right concentration). As a rehearsal of moral orientations ritual therefore releases creative and transformative potential for groups and for individuals. In the example of the monastery ritual's transformative potential is linked to specific ideas about human perfectibility, and to an understanding of sociality which acknowledges the human facility to behave as "as if." The outcome is an intentionally affective social environment, aptly represented in the emic notion of the monastery as a "Dhamma theatre." References 1. The rhetoric represented in this quotation is commonplace. The phrase quoted here was used by Ajahn Sumedho during a talk at the Kathina ceremony at the Harnham monastery in 1987. 2. S.J. Tambiah, "A Performative Approach to Ritual." In S.J. Tambiah, Culture Thought and Social Action, 1985, p126. 3. Ibid, p129. 4. Ibid, p130. 5. Ibid, p128. 6. R. Gombrich and G. Obeyesekere, Buddhism Transformed - Religious Change in Sri Lanka. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1989. 7. Erving Goffman, Frame Analysis. Harvard: Harvard University Press, 1974 8. R. A. Rappaport, "The Obvious Aspects of Ritual." In R. A. Rappaport, Ecology, Meaning and Religion, Berkeley: North Atlantic Books, 1979, p180. 9. David Crystal, The Cambridge Encyclopedia of Language, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987, p121. 10. G. Gorman, The Amazing Fact of Quaker Worship. London: Quaker Home Service, 1988, pp 10-11. 11. B. Myerhoff, "The transformation of consciousness in ritual performances: some thoughts and questions." In R. Schechner and W. Appel, (eds.) By Means of Performance, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990. 12. Rappaport, 1979. 13. Ibid, p.229 14. Ibid, p194. 15. Ibid 16. Ibid, pp194-5. 17. Ajahn Sumedho, Cittaviveka, Amaravati Publications, 1987, p65. 18. Tambiah, 1985, p132. 19. Ibid. 20. Ibid, p133. 21. Ibid, p134. END