INFORMATION TO USERS
This manuscript has bean reproduced from the microfilm master. UMI films the text directly from the original or copy submitted. Thus, some thesis and dissertation copies are in typewriter face, while others may be from any type of computer printer.
The quality of this reproduction is dependent upon the quality of the copy submitted. Broken or indistinct print, colored or poor quality illustrations and photographs, print bleedthrough, substandard margins, and improper alignment can adversely affect reproduction.
In the unlikely event that the author did not send UMI a complete manuscript and there are missing pages, these will be noted. Also, if unauthorized copyright material had to be removed, a note will indicate the deletion.
Oversize materials (e.g., maps, drawings, charts) are reproduced by sectioning the original, beginning at the upper left-hand comer and continuing from left to right in equal sections with small overlaps.
Photographs included in the original manuscript have been reproduced xerographically in this copy. Higher quality 6a x 9” black and white photographic prints are available for any photographs or illustrations appearing in this copy for an additional charge. Contact UMI directly to order.
Bell & Howell Information and Learning 300 North Zeeb Road, Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346 USA 800-521-0600
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. DIVERSITY IN PRACTICE: PEACEMAKING AMONG SINHALESE AND
AMERICANS AT THE WASHINGTON BUDDHIST VIHARA by Bridget Fitzpatrick
submitted to the Faculty of the College of Arts and Sciences of American University in Partial Fulfillment of
the Requirements for the Degree
of Doctor of Philosophy
in Anthropology
Chain Geoffrey Burkhart ljuLd2JltsyTj^£t______Brett Williams o — ______Elizabeth Sheehan
Dean of the College JO ______Date
2000
American University Washington, D.C. 20016
AMERICAN UNIVERSITY IIBPJIS
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. UMI Number 9973422
UMI*
UMI Microform9973422 Copyright 2000 by Bell & Howell Information and Learning Company. All rights reserved. This microform edition is protected against unauthorized copying under Title 17, United States Code.
Bell & Howell Information and Learning Company 300 North Zeeb Road P.O. Box 1346 Ann Arbor, Ml 48106-1346
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. © COPYRIGHT
by Bridget Fitzpatrick 2000
All rights reserved.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. DEDICATION
For Lynn.
“Just as a single light attracts attention on a dark night, action informed by knowledge attracts and awakens others,
inspiring emulation,” (Tarthang Tulku).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. DIVERSITY IN PRACTICE: PEACEMAKING AMONG SINHALESE AND AMERICANS AT THE WASHINGTON BUDDHIST VIHARA
by Bridget Fitzpatrick
ABSTRACT
Since the 1960s, more than a million Buddhists have immigrated from Asia to
the United States, joining descendants of Buddhists who came from China and Japan as early as 1840. The impact of these “ethnic” Buddhists on American religion and culture has been overshadowed in the media and scholarly research by the growing numbers of Americans who, in recent decades, have converted to Buddhism or sympathize with its teachings. These two groups of Buddhists, converts and immigrants, developed along
separate historical and geographic trajectories, and it is only at the end of the twentieth century that all the traditions of Buddhism have come together in one place. In terms of
their religious beliefs and practices, immigrants and converts are often considered so fundamentally different that researchers speak of a gap dividing the “two Buddhisms.”
At the Washington Buddhist Vihara, a Theravada temple in Washington, D.C., Sinhalese immigrants participate together with American converts in classes, worship services, ceremonies and informal gatherings. This mixed congregation challenges the assumption that ethnic and convert Buddhists constitute naturally separate, homogenous
communities; in fact, the Vihara functions as a point of contact through which relations of
community and difference are negotiated. This study, based on fieldwork at the Vihara,
ii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. problematizes the notion that people, place, and culture are inherently linked, and shows that differences in practice and perspective are constructed and maintained through ongoing interaction within an existing hierarchy of relations, rather than being the natural outcome
of historical and geographic separateness. Participants at the Vihara express a variety of interests, constraints, and abilities, as
evidenced by the multiple and highly contextual ways they define and use this place—how they practice, plan and organize events, modify their surroundings, interpret one another’s
actions, contest opposing views, and engage with the rapidly changing world around them.
Through these kinds of “placemaking” activities, participants negotiate cultural meanings, relationships, and values on both local and global levels. As this diverse group of Buddhists comes together in the pluralist context of the United States, they may also be
producing a place in which difference acquires new meaning.
iii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. DIVERSITY IN PRACTICE: PLACEMAKING AMONG SINHALESE AND AMERICANS AT THE WASHINGTON BUDDHIST VIHARA
by Bridget Fitzpatrick
ABSTRACT
Since the 1960s, more than a million Buddhists have immigrated from Asia to
the United States, joining descendants of Buddhists who came horn China and Japan as early as 1840. The impact of these “ethnic” Buddhists on American religion and culture has been overshadowed in the media and scholarly research by the growing numbers of
Americans who, in recent decades, have converted to Buddhism or sympathize with its
teachings. These two groups of Buddhists, converts and immigrants, developed along separate historical and geographic trajectories, and it is only at the end of the twentieth century that all the traditions of Buddhism have come together in one place. In terms of their religious beliefs and practices, immigrants and converts are often considered so
fundamentally different that researchers speak of a gap dividing the “two Buddhisms.”
At the Washington Buddhist Vihara, a Theravada temple in Washington, D.C., Sinhalese immigrants participate together with American converts in classes, worship services, ceremonies and informal gatherings. This mixed congregation challenges the
assumption that ethnic and convert Buddhists constitute naturally separate, homogenous
communities; in fact, the Vihara functions as a point of contact through which relations of
community and difference are negotiated. This study, based on fieldwork at the Vihara,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. problematizes the notion that people, place, and culture are inherently linked, and shows that differences in practice and perspective are constructed and maintained through ongoing
interaction within an existing hierarchy of relations, rather than being the natural outcome
of historical and geographic separateness. Participants at the Vihara express a variety of interests, constraints, and abilities, as evidenced by the multiple and highly contextual ways they define and use this place—how
they practice, plan and organize events, modify their surroundings, interpret one another’s
actions, contest opposing views, and engage with the rapidly changing world around them.
Through these kinds of “placemaking” activities, participants negotiate cultural meanings,
relationships, and values on both local and global levels. As this diverse group of Buddhists comes together in the pluralist context of the United States, they may also be producing a place in which difference acquires new meaning.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am indebted to the participants at the Washington Buddhist Vihara who generously shared their thoughts and experiences with me, and made this project possible.
Special thanks goes to the monks of the Vihara who provided assistance whenever asked, and whose kindness was unfaltering. You have my sincere appreciation andmetta.
I am grateful to the members of my dissertation committee, Geoffrey Burkhart, Elizabeth Sheehan, and Brett Williams, for their guidance and encouragement throughout
this study. In particular, I thank my advisor Geoffrey Burkhart for his patience, open- mindedness and thoughtful advice, and for his careful attention to this work. In addition to receiving fellowships for the first three years of my graduate program, I received financial assistance during the first year of my fieldwork through an endowment from Harvey and Sarah Moore. I thank the Department of Anthropology for providing this award and for the support it communicated.
Finally, I thank my colleagues, friends and family who sustained me throughout this project. Thanks to Jessica for her insights and fresh perspective, to Lynn for her passionate interest and faith in my work, and to Pete, who always kept me smiling.
iv
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CONTENTS
ABSTRACT...... ii
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS...... iv
LIST OF TABLES...... vi LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS...... vii Chapter
ONE: INTRODUCTION...... I
TWO: PARTICIPANTS, PRACTICES, AND PERSPECTIVES...... 27 THREE: NARRATIVES ABOUT THE VIHARA...... 67
FOUR: NEGOTIATING RELATIONS AT THE VIHARA...... 90 FIVE: PRODUCING A BUDDHIST PLACE...... 140
SIX: CONCLUSION...... 174
REFERENCE LIST...... 204
v
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. TABLES
Table
1. Average Attendance by Participant Type...... 6
2. Percent of Total Attendance by Participant Type...... 7 3. Core Participants by Ethnicity and Gender...... 28
vi
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. ILLUSTRATIONS
Figure
1. Original shrine with resident monk seated in front, photographed Nov. 21,1993...... 70 2. New shrine, photographed Jan. 17, 1999...... 70 3. The shrine as it was modified during a ceremony on Aug. 22, 1999...... 75
vii
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER ONE INTRODUCTION
The Washington Buddhist Vihara
On most days, the Washington Buddhist Vihara is a quiet, peaceful place to visit. Located in an urban residential neighborhood in northwest Washington, D.C., the Vihara resembles many of the other two-story houses nearby. Visitors might notice the six-
colored Buddhist flag in the front yard, a wooden sign, and remnants of paper lanterns
hung along the eaves which visually identify this as a place distinct from the rest. The
building was purchased in 1966 by a small group of Sinhalese and American Buddhists,
with support from the government of Ceylon,1 for use as a Theravada2 Buddhist monastery and temple. As many as six monks can stay at the Vihara, though usually only
three or four are in permanent residence. These monks conduct religious services and
classes for the Buddhist community and for those interested in learning about Buddhism.
On a visit to the Vihara, one is first greeted by the lingering aromas of incense and
curries. Visitors place their shoes along shelves in the entryway before entering the hallway leading to a large shrine room. At the far end of this room, seated on a raised altar, is a larger than life-sized, radiant white Buddha statue surrounded by flowers, candles, and
Ceylon was renamed Sri Lanka in 1972.
2Theravada is translated as “way of the elders.” The Theravada tradition is distinguished from other forms of Buddhism (e.g.t Zen, Tantric) by its conservative monastic lineage, the use of Pali as its sacred language, its reliance on the Pali version of the Canon (thought to be the oldest), and a belief in gradual, individual progress toward enlightenment Theravada Buddhism originally proliferated in Sri Lanka, Thailand, Myanmar (Burma), Laos, and Kampuchea (Cambodia). It is now practiced in Bangladesh, Vietnam, and other parts of Asia as well as in Europe, Australia, and North America. 1
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 2
offering bowls filled with fruit. A pottedbodhi tree (the type of tree under which the
Buddha attained enlightenment) sits on one side of the altar, and a large wooden donation
box flanks the other. Light tan carpets cover most of the floor and colorful paper lanterns hang from the ceiling. The room is empty except for a few stacks of dark green ‘zafus’
(round cushions) leaning against the back wall. Two windows wash the room in a soft,
pleasant light, and overhead fans cool the room on warm summer days. Visitors are welcome to sit here mindfully contemplating the Buddha’sDhamma (teachings),
meditating, performing rituals of worship, or simply enjoying a retreat from their hectic lives beyond the temple. Typically, a monk dressed in a butterscotch-colored robe will welcome visitors with a broad smile and a friendly greeting. Later, he might perform a
blessing ceremony, or invite the visitors to the kitchen for a cup of sweet and creamy “Sri
Lankan tea.” On these occasions, the Vihara is a peaceful, comfortable, and calming place. On certain Buddhist holy days though, the Vihara buzzes with activity and visitors
spill out onto the sidewalk in front of the building. In the entryway, shoes of all shapes and sizes line the shelves and pile up on the floor. The amplified sound of monks chanting, or of a single monk preachingbana (sermons), rises above the chatter of lay people gathered
in the hallway. Women crowd into the kitchen to prepare dishes of food for the Buddha puja (offering) and the monks’ dana (donation). The shrine room is packed full with
worshippers seated shoulder-to-shoulder, cross-legged on the floor facing the altar. The air
feels dense and warm with the breath of more than one hundred people. In addition to the monks who sit along the altar, there are a dozen or more temporary renunciates,3 many of whom are dressed in white, seated in contemplation near the front of the room. Women
3On holy days, some participants choose to take the ten precepts of the novice, rather than the five precepts normally taken by lay people In order to practice mindfulnesssila (morality), and these participants isolate themselves from the rest of the congregation and refrain from unnecessary speech. They wear white out of respect for the Buddha as well as to communicate their temporary identity as “renunciates.”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 3
dressed in saris, suits, and flowered dresses huddle together in groups of three or four; men in white shirts and pressed pants sit with their families or lean against walls in pairs;
and a few adolescents occupy themselves at the back comers of the room, while younger children whisper and wander among the adults. Included in the crowd are many Sinhalese immigrants, as well as non-Asian Americans and other immigrants from China, Vietnam, Laos, Burma, and Bangladesh. Over the course of the day they will chant devotions in Pali
(the sacred language of the Buddhist scriptures), listen to sermons, blessings, and announcements in English and Sinhala, perhaps hear a song performed in Burmese or Bengali, and listen to a short talk in Vietnamese. On these occasions, the Vihara is a blur
of sights and sounds as worshippers gather to celebrate the Buddha's teachings.
The Research Study
This study is based on fieldwork I conducted at the Washington Buddhist Vihara from March 1997 through March 1999. The Vihara serves a multicultural congregation which distinguishes it from other Buddhist temples in America which typically serve predominantly ethnic, “bom-Buddhists” or American convert populations. As such, the Vihara provides an observable point of contact between groups of Buddhists who are often
presumed to share few interests, perspectives, beliefs, or practices. Guided by research
suggesting that people endow places with meaning in ways that are socially purposeful, this study examines how the Vihara functions as both a context and a medium for
negotiating relations and values among Buddhist immigrants and converts. Rather than
taking for granted relations of community and difference at the Vihara—based, for example, on where people came from—I show how participants’ religious and cultural
identities are constructed, contested, maintained and reproduced, in part, through their
mutually influential understandings and uses of this place.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 4
During the course of the study, I used fieldnotes, photography, and taped interviews to record participants’ “placemaking” activities—the multiple and highly
contextual ways they endowed the Vihara with meaning and purpose. As a participant observer, I attended weekly classes, devotional services, and annual ceremonies, in addition
to visiting the Vihara on a more informal basis. The ethnographic data I collected shows
that participants exhibited diverse interests, experiences, and abilities, and that they faced a
shifting array of constraints and opportunities based on existing hierarchies of power. My research also revealed that activities at the Vihara take place within a global context of rapidly changing technologies, movements of people, and shifting economic opportunities.
By linking participants’ local activities to these global developments, this study sheds light
on the multilevel process of placemaking, while also pointing to larger issues concerning
cultural and religious change worldwide. Finally, this research addresses the importance of the Vihara as “a Buddhist place.” Through the course of this research, my own understanding of the world has undergone
subtle changes as a result of Buddhist study and practice. Based on my findings as an anthropologist as well as a ’friend of Buddhism,’ I suggest that Buddhism itself challenges the ways social scientists have thought about people, place, and culture. Inasmuch as the
Vihara is experienced, perceived, and imagined as a Buddhist place, it may provide opportunities for participants to reconsider the meaning of their differences, and to
recognize diversity in practice as socially and spiritually productive.
Overview of the Washington Buddhist Vihara According to its mission statement, the Washington Buddhist Vihara welcomes all
visitors “regardless of religious affiliation.” The Vihara currently serves a multi-ethnic, multi-lingual, multi-generational, and multi-gendered congregation. Membership is not
required for participation, and participation is rather fluid, so the actual number of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 5
participants is difficult to estimate. Important annual events can attract as many as three hundred people to the Vihara during the course of a single day, but most activities tend to
be rather intimate, with groups ranging from as few as two to twenty participants. Official membership listings provide a rough estimate of the number of people
who regularly take part in Vihara activities and contribute to its maintenance. According to the Vihara’s 1998 Annual Report, as of September 30,1997, there were 695 individuals on
the Vihara’s official mailing list. During the course of the previous year, 415 of these individuals had supported the Vihara through dues, donations, food, or services, or had
otherwise shown interest in Vihara activities. These “active” participants included 150
“paid current members,” fifty “active lifetime members” and 215 “active non-members.”
The remaining individuals on the mailing list had shown no interest and made no contribution in recent years. These figures are slightly lower than estimates given to me by a resident monk and a lay board member who both suggested that the Vihara serves between three and four hundred families, of which approximately half were considered actively involved. A reliable estimate would therefore put the number of active participants
at between four and five hundred individuals. My own observations suggest that over half of all active participants are Asian American immigrants and their descendants, many of whom describe themselves as “bom
Buddhist.” The vast majority of these are Sinhalese immigrants who came from Sri Lanka
within the past thirty years; the rest are from Vietnam, China, Bangladesh, Laos, Cambodia, Malaysia, Korea, and Burma. The remaining participants are non-Asian Americans of mixed ethnic and religious backgrounds who have adopted Buddhism or
sympathize with its teachings. Most of these Buddhist converts and sympathizers are racially white, though a considerable percentage are African American. A very small percentage of participants are Asian Americans from non-Buddhist backgrounds, or
immigrant converts from Europe and Central America. Non-Asian participants have a
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 6
higher rate of turnover than Asian participants, and are more likely to be one-time visitors,
so the proportion of Asian to non-Asian “regulars” (those who participate frequently or for an extended period of time) might be greater than membership estimates suggest. Resident
monks at the Vihara are almost always Sinhalese, but the Vihara has also hosted monks
horn the United States, Europe and many countries in Asia.
In general, lay participants come to the Vihara to study or meditate, talk with the monks, or perform meritorious deeds, either alone or in groups. Some activities, such as
having tea or receiving a monk’s blessing, may occur during an impromptu visit; however
there are also scheduled activities in which lay participants are involved. During my fieldwork, I recorded the involvement of monks, immigrants, and converts in the context
of more than twenty impromptu visits, as well as in four types of scheduled activities:
meditation sessions,sutta (scripture) study classes, devotional services, and annual ceremonies. My findings are recorded in tables 1 and 2 below.
Table 1. Average Attendance by Participant Type
Monks Asian Immierants Non-Asian Converts Total Sinhalese Other Euro- African Other Asian American American Visits 0 3 0 0 0 0 3
Meditation 1 2 0 3 2 0 8 Sessions Sutta study 0 1 0 6 0 0 8 Classes Devotional 3 4 1 3 0 0 11 Services Annual 5 114 8 8 I 0 136 Ceremonies4
^Totals reflect peak attendance in the shrine room during ceremonies: total attendance is actually higher because participants come and go throughout the day.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 7
Table 2. Percent of Total Attendance by Participant Type
Monks Asian Immigrants Non-Asian Converts Total Sinhalese Other Euro- African Other Asian American American Visits 1% 81% 4% 9% 4% 1% 100%
Meditation 14% 22% 8% 39% 16% 1% 100% Sessions Sutta study 1% 17% 0% 75% 6% 1% 100% Classes Devotional 28% 38% 9% 22% 3% 0% 100% Services Annual 3% 84% 6% 6% 1% 0% 100% Ceremonies
As tables 1 and 2 show, activities at the Vihara tend to attract different types of lay
participants. Annual ceremonies are predominantly attended by Sinhalese immigrants. Sinhalese are also more likely to visit the Vihara on an impromptu basis. Euro-American
converts, on the other hand, dominate the sutta study classes, and converts in general make up the majority at meditation sessions. The devotional services tend to be more mixed,
although immigrants typically outnumber converts. Usually all monks in residence
participate in the devotional services. A single monk leads the meditation sessions, and
other monks rarely attend. Similarly, resident monks do not attendsutta the class which is
led by a lay person. A quorum of at least four monks is required for certain annual ceremonies, so non-resident monks are often invited to participate in these activities.
Both men and women participate actively at the Vihara, although generally there are
more male than female converts, and women tend to dominate the devotional services.
Lay people participate in certain activities along gendered lines: women are more involved
in behind-the-scenes activities like cleaning and food preparation, and men are more
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 8
involved in arranging the physical environment and making public announcements. Both
men and women practice meditation and participatesutta in study, both chant and make
offerings during devotional services and ceremonies, and both talk privately with the
monks and receive blessings during visits to the Vihara. Women cannot currently be ordained within the Sinhalese Theravada tradition, but there are few other restrictions on lay
participation related to gender.5 In many Theravada countries, including Sri Lanka, men and women sit separately during religious services, and monks are not allowed to meet privately or have any physical contact with female laity. The Vihara does not enforce these
gender-based restrictions, though some participants may observe them individually. Children and adolescents are seldom present at activities other than the Vihara’s annual ceremonies. Approximately twenty Sinhalese children attend weekly Sunday
school classes at the Vihara, and occasionally devotional services are organized specifically for youth. Board members have acknowledged the need for more programs aimed at adolescents and young adults, though currently this group is underserved and under
represented at the Vihara. Similarly, elderly participants were relatively few; most were Asian immigrants who attended annual ceremonies with adult relatives or visited the Vihara for a personal blessing ceremony. My research focused on adult participants, who ranged in age from mid-twenties to mid-seventies, with the majority in their thirties, forties
and fifties. Participants at the Vihara spoke a variety of languages, and many were multi lingual. Monks and Sinhalese lay participants often used Sinhala, their first language, in informal conversations and during individual blessing ceremonies. Most non-Sinhalese
5The Theravada order of nuns died out during the tenth century and according to some interpretations of the Vinaya (the Buddha’s rules for monastics) it cannot be reinstated. In the United States, several prominent Theravada leaders have supported the ordination of women through a lineage of nuns in Southeast Asia. The ecclesiastical hierarchy in Sri Lanka is still opposed to women’s ordination though, and the monks at the Vihara defer to the opinion of the patron founder who has held a conservative tine on the issue.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 9
participants spoke no Sinhala though, so activities at the Vihara were typically conducted in English, a language spoken fluently by almost all participants regardless of their
background. Chanting was typically performed in Pali; most of the monks were able to read Pali texts, but only a few lay people pursued such training. Most lay people could recite at least a few verses in Pali, such as the request for five precepts, but generally they
relied on English translations of these verses for meaning. Beginning in April 1997 and continuing throughout my fieldwork, I worked with language tutors to develop
conversational competence in Sinhala. I conducted all of my interviews in English though, and in most cases, I found that knowledge of English was entirely sufficient for understanding and participating in Vihara activities.
Most striking to many participants, as well as to outside observers with whom I
spoke about the Vihara, was the fact that the Vihara serves a multi-ethnic congregation. Unlike most Buddhist centers in America which serve mono-ethnic congregations—either
Asian immigrants or American converts—the Vihara, and other Theravada temples, tend to attract a mixed group of participants. In general, participants at the Vihara distinguished between two main groups: ‘the Sinhalese’ and ‘the Americans.’ Even though many
(probably most) of the Asian participants were American citizens, they typically referred to non-Asian participants, particularly Euro-American and African American converts, as
‘the Americans.’ Similarly, non-Asian participants tended to refer to all Asian participants as ‘the Sinhalese.’ Non-Sinhalese Asian immigrants were often lumped together with
Sinhalese participants, perhaps because American converts failed to recognize differences
among them, and because they represented a relatively small percentage of all participants. Sinhalese participants, on the other hand, frequently referred to other Asian immigrants as “our Chinese and Vietnamese friends” or “the Bangladeshis.”
Participants recognized differences between groups in terms of their religious practice, interest in and approach toward Buddhism, and an assortment of cultural and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 10
ethnic differences including language, country of origin, style of dress, and food preferences. The perception of the congregation as consisting mainly of two distinct
populations, one made up of ethnic immigrants and the other made up of converts, reflects a phenomenon observed among Buddhist groups in America more generally. Because of
their historically different developments, and typically distinct and separate practices, ethnic Buddhists and American converts have been said to represent two Buddhisms.
Two Buddhisms In an overview of American Buddhism in 1979, Charles Prebish argued that there
were in fact two Buddhisms being practiced in America: one identified with American
converts and sympathizers, and another identified with Buddhist immigrants from Asia.
Asian American Buddhist communities, he suggested, were primarily focused on adapting to their new environment. They tended to be relatively conservative, emphasizing basic Buddhist doctrines and practices which reflected their specific cultural traditions. American
Buddhists groups, on the other hand, were often drawn to Buddhism through charismatic
Asian teachers, and typically favored more esoteric forms over basic Buddhist doctrine and practice (Prebish 1979).
Much of the research on American Buddhism during the 1960s and 1970s focused
on the forms of practice and beliefs adopted by non-Asian practitioners. Earlier Buddhist
studies had focused on theological interpretations of sacred Buddhist texts, but by the 1960s, scholars were increasingly interested in Buddhist practice. Buddhism was
associated early on with other non-western, and non-mainstream traditions which attracted significant numbers of mostly white American converts who were looking for spiritual
alternatives in the midst of the counter-cultural movement. Scholars concerned with “new religious movements” (NRMs) viewed non-Asian Americans’ interest in religious
traditions outside of their own Judeo-Christian background as essentially “new” and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 11
noteworthy. Buddhist studies often fell under the emerging field of NRM studies, even though by then, Buddhism could hardly be considered new even among white Americans.
Buddhism has had a physical presence in America dating back to the arrival of
Chinese Buddhists in California in the 1840s, and Buddhism has elicited waves of intellectual and spiritual interest among non-Asian Americans since the late 1800s. What is significant about Buddhism in America today is its growing diversity of practices and
practitioners: American Buddhists represent all the major expressions of Buddhist
philosophy and practice known in the world. Traditions which developed in Asia over the
last two thousand years are not only mixing with newly emerging American Buddhist
traditions, but for the first time in modem history, with one another. Just as Asian immigration has increased and diversified in recent decades, there has been, since 1990, a
simultaneous surge of interest among Americans in Buddhism and Buddhist studies. Because of the early interest in the esoteric aspects of Buddhism, and its
classification as a new religious movement, many of the first studies of American
Buddhism focused on non-Asians’ interpretations of Buddhism. These studies over emphasized the contributions of ‘new’ non-Asian Buddhist organizations in creating a
uniquely American form of Buddhism. The large number of Asian Buddhists who
immigrated to the United States following the passage of the 196S Immigration Act6 made it impossible for scholars to continue to ignore the impact of Asian immigrants on American Buddhism. In proposing the notion of two Buddhisms in 1979, Prebish sought
6The 1965 Immigration Act repealed previous immigration quotas based on national origin (in effect since 1924) and replaced them with an annual limit for all countries outside the Western hemisphere and a numerical cap on immigration from any one country. New preferences for immigrants with particular educational and professional backgrounds led to what has been called the Asian “brain drain” (Williams 1988: 15). The act allowed family members of permanent residents to immigrate to the United States without counting against a country’s numerical limit, so actual immigration in recent years has exceeded caps. As a result of this Act, immigration to the United States has increased dramatically, with an unprecedented proportion of immigrants arriving since 1965 coming from Asia. During the 1980s, forty-two percent of all legal immigrants to the United States came from Asia, up from six percent in the 1950s (Daniels 1993: 310).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 12
to foster mote balanced attention toward all Buddhists in America; however, the early bias toward non-Asian forms of Buddhism continues to influence American Buddhists’ view
of themselves, and many now observe a growing “gap” between the two Buddhisms. In 1991, Helen Tworkov, the editor of a popular Buddhist journal, Tricycle: The Buddhist Review, sparked a controversy when she argued that ’The spokespeople for
Buddhism in America have been, almost exclusively, educated members of the white
middle class,” while Asian American Buddhists, despite numbering at least one million, have so far “not figured prominently in the development of something called American
Buddhism” (1991:4). The history of Buddhism in America reveals that, on the contrary,
Asian Americans were fundamental in bringing Buddhism to America over a century ago,
and that they have since protected the tradition during periods of deep suspicion and intolerance by mainstream Americans, helped converts to establish their own institutions,
and developed vital and innovative adaptations (Fields 1992). Tworkov’s comment
highlighted what many view as the deep divide separating ethnic Buddhists from American converts, a divide that scholars were initially alerted to by Prebish, but which has since
been fueled by misunderstanding and prejudice on both sides. Recognizing their own neglect of Asian Buddhists’ contribution to American Buddhism, and perhaps also wary of the bias inherent in past studies, scholars have
directed more balanced attention to Asian American Buddhists in the last decade. In doing
so, they have begun to clarify the nature of the two Buddhisms. Some have attempted to
define “ethnic Buddhism” in more precise ways, hoping to avoid the implicit racism of that phrase, by using terms like ‘cradle Buddhists’ and ‘baggage Buddhists’ to describe,
respectively, those who were bom into Buddhism and those who bring Buddhism, along with other personal belongings, when they immigrate. At the same time, the categories
scholars are using to describe all Buddhists have become more specifically practice-
oriented: Richard Seager (1999) distinguishes between ‘chanters’ and ‘sitters'; Thomas
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 13
Tweed (1999) separates full-fledged ‘converts’ from ‘night-stand Buddhists’ and Buddhist ‘sympathizers’ (including those identified earlier by Emma McCoy Layman (1976) as
‘inquirers,’ ‘seekers,’ or ‘Dharma hoppers’); and many others recognize a variety of ‘not-
just-Buddhists’ who practice Buddhism in combination with other belief systems, or practice a hybrid, syncretic, or creole form of Buddhism (e.g., Tweed 1999, Soeng 1998, Chandler 1998). Still others have focused on the transmission of Buddhism, rather than
the characteristics of its practitioners. Jan Nattier (199S), for instance, distinguishes between ‘import’ forms of Buddhism such as Zen, which Americans have actively drawn
from Asia since the late 1800s, and ‘export’ forms of Buddhism, such as the evangelical
Japanese lay movement, Soka Gakkai, which spread rapidly in America in the 1970s and 1980s.
Even so, two decades after Prebish first coined the phrase, the notion of two
Buddhisms—one ethnic and one American—continues to resonate within the discourse on American Buddhism. The concept has been reinforced by the media through its disproportionate coverage of the ‘new’ American Buddhists. These stereotypically white,
well-educated, middle-aged, and middle-class Buddhists have received enormous media attention in the past decade, in part because of a few famous converts and sympathizers
(e.g., actor Richard Gere, National Basketball Association’s coach Phil Jackson, and the
rock group Beastie Boys’ singer Adam Yauch). Asian or ethnic Buddhists, on the other hand, have remained largely invisible in the media. When they are discussed, Asian
Buddhists are typically characterized as passive, conservative, and socially disengaged. In cases of scandal, such as the Hsi Lai Temple fundraising controversy of 1997, ethnic
temples are portrayed as merely a front for foreign governments’ activities (for an
alternative perspective on this issue, see Chandler 1999). This disparity in media coverage
contradicts the fact that the vast majority of American Buddhists—perhaps as much as
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 14
80%—are Asian American immigrants and their descendants. Likewise, it ignores the fact
that Asian Americans’ approach to Buddhism continues to be diverse and vital. Prebish noted in 1993 that although the descriptive language had softened, clear
distinctions and biases remained between the two groups:
One Buddhism now referred exclusively to ethnic Asian American Buddhist groups in America, to some extent considered highly ‘fundamentalist’ or ‘dogmatic’ or ‘devotional’ by its rivals. The other Buddhism included mostly members of European-derived ancestry, deemed ‘intellectually arrogant’ or ‘purely enlightenment seeking’ or even ‘White Buddhists’ by its seemingly adversarial ethnic Buddhist counterparts. Needless to say, ethnic Buddhist groups apparently felt that they represented the various ‘true’ lineages and authentic heritage of Buddhist teaching, while the newer form of emergent American Buddhism felt it had made innovations that were both necessary and important for Buddhism’s successful move to the West (1993: 189).
To some extent, Prebish argues, all of these claims, while not necessarily reflecting
Buddhist values of tolerance and compassion, are true (1993: 189). Recent studies suggest
that there are real differences between immigrant Buddhists and Buddhist converts when considered generally. A survey of over 350 American Buddhist converts belonging to seven different organizations revealed that converts are typically white and middle-aged,
disproportionately from Catholic and Jewish backgrounds, highly educated and politically liberal, and among the middle to upper-middle class economically. A “desire for spiritual fulfillment” was cited as the most important motivating factor attracting them to Buddhism, followed by an attempt to resolve “personal problems.” Meditation was
considered to be significantly more important than devotional practices, and more important than any social aspects derived from membership in the group (Coleman 1999).
Other studies highlight the involvement of American converts in “socially engaged”
practices, including providing support to the gay community during the AIDS crisis, aiding
the transition of Asian refugees to America, and providing food and jobs for the poor and
homeless (Corless 1998, Rothberg 1998, and Fields 1992).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 15
Studies of ethnic Asian Buddhist groups, on the other hand, reveal an
overwhelming concern with preserving and passing down Buddhist values and belief
systems specific to their cultural traditions; adapting Buddhist merit making and other
devotional practices to the American context; and maintaining institutional hierarchies
related to the monastic tradition (Tanaka 1999, Mullins 1988). Among refugee groups in particular. Asian Buddhists tend to be concerned with finding culturally and religiously
appropriate ways to cope with their community’s social and spiritual upheaval (e.g., Van
Esterik 1992, Welaratna 1993). Kenneth Tanaka cautions against oversimplifying such
findings by concluding that ethnic temples serve the cultural and social needs of their
members while Euro-American groups focus on spiritual practices. He argues “We
should...remain cautious about the underlying implication in these observations that ethnic groups are less spiritual. Cultural activities have always played a vital part of Buddhist temples in Asia and were integrated with the spiritual life of the larger communities”
(Tanaka 1999:3-4). Prebish has insisted that the distinction between ethnic Buddhism and American Buddhism is religious and not ethnic, and that it deals with practice, not race (1993). The
two Buddhisms are simply the result of two distinct lines of historical development, he
argues. In a collection of essays on American Buddhism, he states:
It is important to realize that two different groups were primarily responsible for Buddhism’s earliest growth in America. On the one hand, Buddhism is the native religion of a significant number of Asian immigrants. On the other hand, it became the religion, or at least the subject of serious personal interest, for an increasing group of (mostly) Euro-Americans who embraced Buddhism primarily out of intellectual attraction and interest in spiritual practice... (Prebish 1998:7). Other researchers have also acknowledged the distinct lines of historical
development characterizing the two Buddhisms and have consequently treated the two
groups as fundamentally different In a recent volume on methodological issues in
Buddhist scholarship, editor Christopher Queen explains that the book has been organized
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 16
in such a way that it considers “Asian American Buddhists first, both because they are
more numerous and because they have been practicing Buddhism in North America for longer.” Studies of the “New Buddhists” are grouped in a separate chapter, followed by an examination of various modes of transmission, and essays on the role of Buddhist
scholarship (Queen 1999: xv). By studying Buddhism and presenting research in such a
way that Asian Buddhists are analytically separated from ‘new’ American Buddhists,
contemporary scholars reinforce the perception of difference and isolation, and contribute to the growing gap between American and ethnic Buddhists. Historical factors are indeed significant for understanding Buddhism in America, but to suggest that two Buddhisms
developed or currently exist independently of one another is to overlook a considerable
amount of interaction and mutual influence. To speak of a ‘gap’ denies any commonalties, overlaps, or points of contact. By focusing on two branches of Buddhist development, corespondent with race and ethnicity, scholars also overlook those who cross-over and
inhabit the boundaries between various Buddhist groups and traditions. Similarly, they overlook activities (including ways that Buddhism is studied) which serve to maintain
these boundaries. Paul Numrich’s 1996 study of two Theravada temples in the United States
deserves special attention in this regard because in it he addresses an important point of contact between American and ethnic Buddhists. Numrich’s finding, that American
converts and Asian American Buddhists form “parallel congregations” demonstrates the fact that there are significant differences in the practices and beliefs generally held by members of these two communities. At the same time, while he argues that there is little direct interaction between members of these groups, his study shows that they are not
wholly isolated from one another. Numrich conducted fieldwork in two Theravada temples: a Thai-American temple
located in Chicago and a Sinhalese-American temple in Los Angeles. Based on this
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 17
fieldwork, he observes that “In such temples, under one roof and through the guidance of a shared clergy, two ethnic groups pursued largely separate and substantively distinct expressions of a common religious tradition” (1996: 144). This observation confirms
what others have found: that there are differences between the forms of Buddhism brought to this country by Asian immigrants and the forms of Buddhism adopted by
predominantly ‘white’ American converts. By this definition though, and as Numrich’s
study demonstrates, the parallel congregations formed by immigrants and converts at these Theravada temples nevertheless share a common space and common religious clergy. In order to grasp the relationship between these congregations then, it seems important to
consider the role of the clergy, and the role of the physical environment itself, as mediums
for negotiations between the two Buddhist groups. My study therefore focuses on the way participants at the Washington Buddhist Vihara define and use the Vihara itself, and how, in the process, they are negotiating relations across the ‘gap’ between immigrant and convert forms of Buddhism.
The popularity of the two Buddhisms concept has led to several problematic
assumptions. In addition to assuming that immigrant and convert forms of Buddhism are
isolated and autonomous, the two Buddhisms concept suggests a high degree of homogeneity within each group. This is contradicted by a wealth of evidence which suggests that there are in fact many ‘faces of Buddhism’ in America (Prebish and Tanaka
1998). As the number of Asian Buddhist immigrants increases, there may even be greater
internal difference among Asian Buddhists as a group than there are differences between Asian Buddhists and American converts. On the other hand. Queen (1999) has identified a
unified pattern within ‘American Buddhism’ generally, as evidenced by both Asian American Buddhists and non-Asian converts. Despite different goals, practices, and
beliefs, he argues, both groups are becoming more democratic, pragmatic, and socially
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 18
engaged. These common trends may prove to be significant in understanding what is
happening in American Buddhism.
Perhaps most problematic is the failure by both scholars and practitioners of Buddhism to address the differences among Buddhists as problematic in themselves.
While terms like 'cradle Buddhist’ or ‘night-stand Buddhist’ are less explicitly concerned with differences based on race or ethnicity, they still suggest an inherent link between
people, their religious beliefs and practices, and the place where they were bom or where they come from. Similarly, by categorizing Buddhists according to nationality (e.g.,
Tibetan, Thai, or Korean Buddhists), a natural link is assumed to exist between people, their religion and culture, and some physically bounded place. Such a link often reifies and naturalizes ethnic, racial, and even religious distinctions which can carry discriminatory
connotations. At the same time, it ignores the problem of how such differences continue to be created and reproduced in the context of ongoing interaction.
Placemaking Akhil Gupta and James Ferguson argue that the tendency among social scientists to
assume a natural link between people, place, and culture has meant that “space functions as
a central organizing principle in the social sciences at the same time that it disappears from analytical purview” (1992:7). In reality, the links between people and places are always
“contested, uncertain, and in flux” so that a 'place’ is more accurately conceived as a
cultural construction—the product of and context for social practices (1992:13). Recent studies in the field of cultural geography demonstrate that people define and use places in socially purposeful, though not necessarily intentional, ways (Jackson 1989, Pred 1990,
Duncan 1990). Throughout this dissertation, I refer to this process as “placemaking.”
Scholars concerned with such diverse topics as diaspora, postcoloniality, and
nationalism have likewise challenged the notion that social relations are the product of a
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 19
natural, underlying spatial order, suggesting instead that relationships are, at least in part, the product of placemaking activities. James Clifford (1994) for example, characterizes
'diaspora’ as a strategic claim to a history and homeland for the purpose of identifying with other members of a displaced group. Members of a diasporic community, he contends,
are linked not by cultural and historical ties to a distant place, but by their use of these ties
to differentiate themselves from members of the host country. Similarly, Ruth
Frankenberg and Lata Mani (1993) argue that the term ‘postcolonial’ represents a claim to a particular historically and geographically constituted social relationship. For both
colonizers and colonized, the link to a postcolonial place is not predictable or transparent, because it intersects a constantly shifting matrix of race, gender, and class relations. These scholars suggest that a sense of ‘community’ lies not in the fact that members are
inherently linked to a common place, but by the fact that they share at least one interpretation, or narrative, of that place that makes symbolic and rhetorical sense to them.
Typically, members of a community share not one but rather a range of possible narratives about a place, which reflects their alternative values and provides a framework for negotiating social relations (Duncan 1990).
Just as placemaking is used to link members of a community, it is also used to
contest claims to a place, thereby creating or maintaining relations of social or cultural ‘difference.’ In the context of post-independence Sri Lanka, Sinhalese-Buddhist
nationalists promoted a place-related narrative which effectively alienated members of the
Tamil-speaking minority, most of whom are Hindu. Drawing upon archaeological and historical evidence that a “tank, temple and paddy field” were prominent features of pre colonial Sinhalese villages, Sinhalese-Buddhist nationalists began to associate these
features with a sense of order and continuity which naturalized their claim to Sri Lanka and
reinforced their sense of national identity. Projects to rebuild tanks and uncover temple
ruins, especially in areas predominantly occupied by Tamil-speaking Sri Lankans, further
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 20
substantiated Sinhalese claims to the entire island, while discrediting the claims of Tamil- speakers, some of whom are now demanding a separate state (Spencer 1990). This example demonstrates the effectiveness of placemaking as a tool for promoting certain
values over others, and naturalizing linguistic, religious, and ethnic differences. As Allan Pred (1990) contends, all struggles—ranging from subtle acts of disruption and resistance
to warfare and rebellion—are, at some level, over the meaning and use of space.
Placemaking “practices,” or acts of defining and using a place, can be as complicated as buying a house or as simple as cooking a meal in it (de Certeau 1984).
Through these practices, people define and use a place, endowing it with meaning. As
people endow places with new meanings though, the places themselves become the content and context for future narratives which can express alternative, and sometimes
contradictory, values. In this way, people and places mutually influence one another. For
this reason, placemaking can play an especially critical role in the lives of immigrants. Vasudha Narayan (1992) has shown, for instance, how Hindu immigrants from south
India transformed, and were simultaneously influenced by, their new location in western Pennsylvania. In order to accommodate the demands of living in the United States, the
group celebrated religious events on Sundays and added ecumenical outreach programs to
their services. However, by building their Srivaisnava temple in the likeness of its parent
temple in southern India, and then declaring this new property “land where [the law of]
karma is in effect,” these immigrants created a place, geographically distant from their homeland, which nevertheless reflects their shared values and experiences, and provides an
ideological framework for interpreting future activities (Narayan 1992).
Religious Places in a Globalized World
Placemaking processes at places like the Washington Buddhist Vihara point to
intriguing theoretical issues regarding the cultural role of religious places in a globalized
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 21
world. The modem world has been described in terms of fluid, overlapping movements of people, technologies, money, images, and ideas (Appadurai 1990). Given the interrelated
nature of this "globalized’ world, even the most localized placemaking activities articulate in
complex ways with global social structures, events, and ideologies. In such a context, the
concept of discreet "cultures’—whether a culture is defined as a group of like-minded
people, a cohesive system of meaning, patterns of behavior, or characteristic traits—is
theoretically problematic. People and places have never been as static, isolated, and
disconnected as early anthropological accounts might suggest, but now, as people and ideas
seem to move more freely than ever before, the analytical relevance of a culture concept which links people to places needs to be reconsidered. At the same time, the processes by
which culture is created, and cultural difference is defined and negotiated, are becoming increasingly important for social scientists to understand. Religion provides one context in which to examine how local culture articulates with, and is constructed through, global forces. So far, there has been little research
devoted to examining the ways “world religions” (e.g., Christianity, Islam, Buddhism) currently manifest in such diverse forms around the globe, but some scholars have begun
to address the role of religion as people themselves move around the world. Sociologists
have long been concerned with the adaptation and acculturation patterns of immigrants in America, and religion has been an important facet of immigration studies. Raymond Brady Williams explains:
Immigrants are religious—by all accounts more religious than they were before they left home—because religion is one of the important identity markers that helps them preserve individual self-awareness and cohesion in a group.... In the United States, religion is the social category with clearest meaning and acceptance in the host society, so the emphasis on religious affiliation and identity is one of the strategies that allows the immigrant to maintain self identity while simultaneously acquiring community acceptance (1988:11).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 22
Yet, despite the importance of religion in America, researchers often disregard its influence
on everyday life. As R. Stephen Warner (1998a) observes, religion is frequently
understood as at best “ephemeral” and secondary to such identity-shaping issues as race,
gender, class and sexuality, or at worst, in its Western, institutionalized forms, as “a despised arm of colonial and capitalist hegemony.” An alternative paradigm based on the
American experience of “an open religious market, constitutive pluralism, structural
adaptability, and empowering opportunities,” suggests that “the master function of religion in the United States” is “the provision of social space for cultural production” (Warner 1998a: 202). Studies that put this new paradigm into action focus on congregations of
immigrants, practicing and producing their own religious traditions in an effort to adapt to new surroundings (e.g., Warner and Wittner 1998).
Peggy Levitt (1998) argues that to understand the everyday religious life of
immigrants in America, researchers must also take into account sustained homeland
attachments and the effect of “social remittances” across local-level contexts. Many immigrant communities now sustain transnational congregations which are influenced by
changes occurring in both the homeland and in the new “host” society. Through
communication and transportation technologies, immigrants actively and repeatedly bring experiences in one context to bear on the other. This suggests a need to combine studies of immigrant religion with studies of globalism and transnationalism.
It is equally important to consider how new religious communities are formed and
maintained within the multicultural context of North America. In their study of Latino and
Asian immigration to the United States, David Lopez and Yen Espiritu (1990) found that
among non-white immigrant groups, panethnicity is proving to be an alternative to both
assimilation to the dominant culture (the presumed path of immigrants in the past) and
ethnic particularism. Religion can play a role in establishing panethnic connections, or it
can be used as a way to express and maintain ethnic and racial differences. Rodolfo Torres
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 23
and ChorSwang Ngin (1995) show that ethnic and racial differences are generated both
internally by a group as claims to a culture, and externally by the larger society or institutional structures in order to exclude particular people. Research on multicultural
congregations, like the Vihara, can provide insight into how these processes work. Finally, it is worth considering the role that religious philosophies and practices
play in the formation and maintenance of religious places. Fenggang Yang observes how
participants at a heterogeneous Chinese Protestant Church in the United States exerted a “tenacious unity” in the face of potentially divisive factors (1998:354). Despite their different languages, politics, ages, denominations, and regions of origin, refugees,
immigrants, and the descendants of past immigrants maintained a unified church by emphasizing aspects of their shared Chinese and Christian identities; namely, a Confucian- inspired respect for harmony and equilibrium and a professed, Christian brotherly love
(Yang 1998). Among Theravada Buddhist temples in America (and many other religious
organizations in this country), there has been a tendency toward conflict and schism. At
the same time, there have been efforts, particularly in recent years, to establish local inter- Buddhist associations (Numrich 1999). Recent work by Numrich (1999) suggests that
these inter-Buddhist organizations favor a pluralist approach, rather than either an assimilationist approach where one school or tradition is dominant, or a fusionist approach
where an entirely new, shared tradition is created. Buddhism teaches that all things are impermanent and interconnected, and that there is therefore no autonomous ‘self,’ only fleeting sensations and thoughts which we interpret as selves. Suffering is caused by attachment to impermanent things, including this sense of self. Buddhist practice is aimed
at developing insight into the way things really are, and compassion based on the
recognition that as unenlightened beings, we are all subject to the same kammic
conditioning which leads us to become attached and to suffer. There may be something
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 24
about Buddhism then which promotes religious and ethnic pluralism—a tolerance and
appreciation for diversity, but more importantly perhaps, a recognition of difference as culturally constructed.
Understanding Difference
“Perhaps you were bom in Sri Lanka in a past life,” a monk suggested to me one
day, trying to make sense of my presence at the Vihara. I happened to be bom the same year the Washington Buddhist Vihara was established, but to suggest it was more than coincidence that brought me to this place will strike most readers as a bit superstitious.
Like many other non-Asian Americans living in the Washington area in 1993,1 came to
the Vihara looking to learn something about a religion to which I had only superficial
exposure, and in which I admitted only moderate interest. I intended to do anthropological fieldwork there, if only for exploratory purposes at first. I located the Vihara in the phone
book and stopped by one afternoon for a visit. Five years later, another monk told a Sinhalese family visiting the temple that I had
been a Sri Lankan in my previous life. That was why I seemed so “familiar” and
“friendly," he explained. On another occasion I was told, “You must have been a
Buddhist in your previous life.” “It’skarma," others assured me. I am willing to accept these explanations for my involvement with the Vihara as at least as plausible as any my
own personal and cultural upbringing could provide. Still, none of these observations
adequately explains how I came to be at this place—or more accurately, how I came to be an American anthropologist studying at a Buddhist temple in Washington, D.C., while
other people came to be Sinhalese immigrants, Theravada monks, American converts, and
a number of other ’others.’ In part, this dissertation is about the problematic notion of ’self and ‘other,’ and how ’I’ and ’they’ all came to be in and of a place ’we’ called the
Washington Buddhist Vihara.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 25
When I first visited the Vihara, I was identified as neither Sinhalese nor Buddhist, and yet to say I did not belong suggests that some ‘others’ did. The problem arises in
determining who those others were, and how they came to be different from me. In an
interview I conducted early in my research, a participant from the Vihara remarked that he felt “native” being interviewed by an anthropologist. What was startling about this
comment was that he was much like me: a white American who had been raised as a
Catholic, gone to college, and somehow ended up living near Washington, D.C., and becoming involved with the Vihara. What made him feel ‘native’ was the fact that in requesting an interview for my research on the Vihara, I had implicitly linked him to this
place, in much the same way that early anthropologists have been said to have
“incarcerated” their subjects by locating them in a distant and distinctively different place
(Appadurai 1988). By ascribing this participant to the Vihara, I had defined him as
different—‘other.’ He responded by taking on the identity of a ‘native’ of this place.
My presence at the Vihara was initially problematic (mainly to me) in the same
way that the presence of Sinhalese Buddhists in America, or a Sinhalese Buddhist temple
in Washington, D.C., may at first seem out of context. People and places that do not belong point to our assumption that all things have their rightful and natural place.
Although the identity of people and places is never completely static or autonomous, our apparent sedentarism and resistance to change make it possible for us to assume that as
social actors, we possess a continuous and given identity or ‘self (Gupta and Ferguson
1997:20-21). We take for granted, for instance, that Sri Lankans live in Sri Lanka and
Americans live in America, that Americans practice American forms of Buddhism and immigrants practice ethnic forms of Buddhism, that anthropologists study exotic ‘others’ and that these ‘others’ exist somehow ‘elsewhere.’ My concern in this dissertation is to
problematize and examine this process by which ‘difference’ is constructed, contested, negotiated, and reproduced. At the same time, I will suggest that through their
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 26
placemaking activities at the Vihara, some seemingly ‘different’ people are coming to view
the world as interconnected and interdependent, and are challenging the way difference
itself is experienced and understood.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER TWO PARTICIPANTS, PRACTICES, AND PERSPECTIVES
Description of the Study I conducted fieldwork for this study at the Washington Buddhist Vihara beginning
in March 1997 and continuing through March 1999, following three and a half years of exploratory research. During the fieldwork period, I participated in the Vihara’s weekly
meditation sessions and bi-weeklysutta studies classes, attended weekly devotional services, and took part in religious ceremonies, including the annual Vesak and Kathina
Pinkama, various blessing and memorial services, and special ritual offerings calledddna
(voluntary donations from lay people, often in the form of meals served to the monks as a
merit making activity). In addition to scheduled activities, I often visited the Vihara on an impromptu basis, and accompanied other participants to other temples and cultural events.
I conducted interviews with several participants, but I came to know most of them by
talking with them informally, observing their activities at the Vihara, and participating in classes and services with them. I used fieldnotes, photography, tape recordings, and
sketches to document my observations, note participants’ interpretations of events, record
changes in the Vihara’s appearance and use, and map groupings and movements of people
during events. The participants involved in this study were necessarily a very fluid group. While most were considered “regulars” (participants who have visited the Vihara off and on for several years), there were also a few who visited only once or for only a few months. Through the course of this study, I observed and interacted with a core group of seventy-
27
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 28
five participants representing various ethnic, age, and gender groups (see table 3 below). I conducted formal, taped interviews with eight of these participants, and interviewed twelve more informally.
Table 3. Core Participants by Ethnicity and Gender
Monks (all male) Male Laity Female Laity Total Asian Immigrants Sinhalese immigrants 6 13 17 36 (age teens to 80s) Other Asian immigrants — 2 3 5 (age 30s to 70s) Non-Asian Converts
Euro-Americans — 13 7 20 (age 20s to 60s)
African Americans — 5 6 11 (age 20s to 60s)
Other converts — 1 2 3 (age 20s to 40s) Total 6 34 35 75
My conversations with these participants, as well as my observations of them, confirm the general trends described by other researchers regarding involvement by and motivations of American converts and ethnic Buddhists. Nearly all of the Sinhalese
participants, for example, had attended annual ceremonies at the Vihara. Most of them had
also visited the Vihara to make offerings and receive blessings from the monks. Only
three had participated insutta studies classes, and just three others had regularly attended
meditation sessions. All of the other Asian immigrants had attended at least one annual
ceremony, but only two participated in more than one meditation session, and only one
attended a sutta studies class. On the other hand, over three quarters of the Buddhist
converts participated in meditation sessions (fifteen of them participated regularly) and over
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 29
one third had attended more than one sutta studies class. The devotional services attracted
a mixed group of participants: approximately one third of all converts, and over half of all immigrants, had participated in devotional services. Five of the converts and ten of the
immigrants attended these services with some regularity. All of the monks in my core
group regularly participated in annual ceremonies and devotional services while they were in residence, and four had led meditation sessions. None had attended the sutta studies classes which were organized and led by a lay person.
It is worth noting that among the Euro-Americans in this core group, males outnumbered females by nearly double. While this does not reflect general trends in
American Buddhism (Coleman notes that in meditation groups in particular, female
converts typically outnumber males (1999:94)), it does, from my observations, reflect the overall participation among Euro-Americans at the Vihara. The emphasis within
traditional Theravada Buddhism on male monasticism and individual striving for
enlightenment may account for the fact that male converts tend to participate at the Vihara
in larger proportions than is found at other Buddhist places. Even so, female converts attended classes and services in proportions that were similar to the males, suggesting that
participation was motivated, in part, by factors other than gender. Numrich has observed, for instance, that among Western converts, “most of those who become and remain
Theravada Buddhists, both men and women, hold a conservative, even fundamentalist outlook” toward Buddhist practice and philosophy (1998:161).
While there are certainly common trends based on ethnicity, age, and gender, I found that participants came to the Vihara with a variety of expectations based on their
personal experiences and dispositions. In this chapter, I will examine a few of their diverse
perspectives and show how interpretations of the Vihara are influenced by participants’
unique backgrounds. Before considering these perspectives, it will be useful to review the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 30
history of the Vihara as an institution, in order to make sense of how this diverse group of
participants came together.
History of the Vihara Prior to the 196S Immigration Act, there were few Theravada Buddhists living in
the United States.7 During a visit to Washington in 1964. the Ven. Madihe Pannasiha Mahanayaka Thera, head of the Amarapura Nikaya (one of the largest monastic fraternities
in Sri Lanka), took notice of Americans’ interest in Theravada Buddhism on the occasion
of a Vesak ceremony organized by Buddhist sympathizers and staff at the Embassy of Ceylon. Upon his return to Sri Lanka, Ven. Pannasiha initiated plans to establish
America’s Erst Theravada Buddhist center here in Washington, D.C. (Roehm 1991).
In 1965, with support from the Government of Ceylon and the Sasana Sevaka
Society (an organization of Sinhalese lay Buddhists in Sri Lanka), a small group of Sinhalese Buddhists and American sympathizers established the Buddhist Vihara Society.
In 1966, the society purchased the current Vihara building from the Royal Thai Embassy
(which had used it to house Thai students) and set up its first resident monk, Ven. Bope Vinita Thera (Roehm 1991). Currently, the Vihara is locally funded and administered by a board of directors made up of lay people and monks. The abbot, or chief monk, often
referred to as the “head monk,” 8 also serves as the Vihara Society’s president. The Vihara
7The United States Census does not record religious affiliation, but Numrich notes that prior to 1965 the number of immigrants from countries where Theravada Buddhism is pracUced was very small, suggesting that few Theravada Buddhist immigrants were living in the United States (1996: xviii). Until that time, American interest in Buddhism had focused on Japanese Zen Buddhism, but as changes in the immigration law made it possible for Asian Buddhist teachers to come to the United States, other forms of Buddhism, including Theravada, began to attract converts beginning in the 1960s (Fields 1992).
8In Buddhist temples, the highest ranking monk or priest in residence is typically called the “abbot” At the Vihara, Sinhala speakers refer to the abbot as “loku hamduruvo.” “Hamduruvo” is a respectful title used for all Sinhalese monks, and “loku” means “high" in terms of status or prestige.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 31
maintains ties to its parent affiliate in Sri Lanka, referred to as the Bhikkhu Training Center,
and major decisions must be approved by its patron, Ven. Pannasiha. In Sinhala, the language spoken by the Sinhalese majority in Sri Lanka, avihara refers to a structure or architectural complex which provides housing for monks and
religious facilities for the Buddhist community. The Washington Buddhist Vihara fulfills these requirements in the context of an ordinary-looking two-story house. The central living room area on the first floor functions as a combined shrine, meditation room, and meeting hall, while the upstairs rooms are used for the monks’ living quarters. The building also features a kitchen, a library, and a small Buddhist bookstore. In addition to
organizing religious services, the Vihara Society currently rents out the shrine room to the
Washington Mindfulness Community (followers of Thich Nhat Hanh, a Vietnamese meditation master) for its weekly meetings, and hosts the Sri Lankan Embassy’s Food
Bazaar, held annually in the Vihara’s basement. The Society publishes a quarterly newsletter which is distributed to members and friends around the world, and in 1998, the Vihara introduced its own web page featuring photographs of the shrine room, a mission statement, a schedule of activities, and links to sites dealing with Buddhism and Sri Lanka.
Since 1966, the Vihara has served as a “religious and educational center dedicated to presenting Buddhist thought, practice, and culture” (Vihara Mission Statement).
According to one long-time board member, the Vihara was initially expected to function as
a Buddhist mission serving a mostly non-Asian American audience, with only a secondary role as a center for Sinhalese Buddhist worship (since there were few Sinhalese Buddhists in Washington at that time). By 1990 though, the number of immigrants from Asian
countries who were living in the United States had quadrupled in just two decades, and the
Sinhalese participants typically translate “loku hamduruvo” as “head monk,” and though the English translation lacks much of the honor conveyed by the Sinhala form, I use this translated form because it is the most common term used by both Sinhala-speakers and English-speakers at the Vihara.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 32
number of immigrants from predominantly Theravada Buddhist countries alone had risen to nearly three-quarters of a million (Numrich 1996: xviii-xix). It is likely that no one
anticipated the effect that changes in immigration laws, combined with developments in the
global economy, social changes in the United States, and political unrest throughout much
of Asia, would have on the population of Asian immigrants in the United States over the past three decades. Today, Washington, D.C., is home to an estimated two thousand Sinhalese immigrants. Since its establishment, the Vihara has faced demands from a
mixed congregation of American converts and a growing population of Sinhalese and other Asian Buddhist immigrants.
From its beginning, the Vihara has served as a link between the Sinhalese diaspora and the Sri Lankan homeland. It plays an unofficial role in United States-Sri Lanka
relations by sending monks to officiate at Embassy-sponsored events, and by hosting government officials and business leaders visiting from Sri Lanka. As the first Theravada
temple in North America, the Vihara has also served an important role in helping to establish Buddhism in the West. It has hosted clergy from all branches of Buddhist tradition and served as a model for many other Theravada temples. As new groups of Asian immigrants and refugees arrived in Washington, D.C., during the 1970s and 1980s,
many lacked the resources to establish their own temples. Over the years, the Vihara has served Buddhists from China, Burma, Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos; most recently,
Buddhists from Bangladesh have been using the Vihara as a “jumping-off point” for the
establishment of their own temple. At the same time, the Vihara has fostered Americans’ growing interest in vipassana bhavana, the distinctive Theravada form of Buddhist meditation aimed at developing insight.9 One of the Vihara’s chief incumbent monks,
9 Vipassana bhavana was popularized during the first half of the 20th century by a Burmese meditation master, Mahasi Sayadaw, who developed a method previously used by forest-dwelling monks in Burma. His method involved ‘watching’ one’s breath, thoughts, and feelings with detached awareness in order to realize the truth of the Dhamma. At first, Sinhalese clergy were critical of “the new Burmese approach,” not only because the newly established meditation centers, devoted to
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 33
Ven. Henepola Gunaratana Mahathera, used the Vihara as a base for establishing the Bhavana Center, a popular meditation retreat center in West Virginia. In recent years, the need for additional space to accommodate the growing Sinhalese Buddhist community and demand for an even more accessible meditation center
have combined to make expansion plans one of the Vihara Society’s top priorities. In
1994, the Vihara’s facility was partially destroyed by fire. Although the damaged areas
were repaired and the building reoccupied within six months, the fire prompted members of the Vihara community to reactivate a decade-old plan to build a new, larger complex
outside the District of Columbia. In 199S, the Vihara Society purchased 7.13 acres of land in Silver Spring, Maryland and began making plans to “translate [the Vihara community’s]
dreams into real Vihara buildings” (Buddhist Vihara Society, The Washington Buddhist Winter 1995). Lack of funds and the difficulty of establishing priorities among such a diverse congregation have delayed the process of establishing this new center. In the
meantime, in May 1998, a small Buddhist temple catering especially to the Sinhalese community was established in a nearby residential neighborhood at the border between
Washington, D.C., and its Maryland suburbs. Some participants at the Vihara also visit
and support this new temple, and participants generally regard it as supplemental to rather than in direct competition with the Vihara. The long-term effect of this development on participation at the Vihara is still uncertain.
teaching vipassana bhavana to lay people, competed with traditional temples for lay support, but because the new technique bypassed training in samadhi (concentration) and the attainment of trance states known asjhanas which were traditionally viewed as necessary prerequisites to insight training. However the Burmese method has proven highly effective among lay meditators, and over time it has gained acceptance among all but the most orthodox Theravada Buddhists (Bond 1988: 156-173). At the Vihara, monks teach what I understand to be a modified version of the Burmese method: in accordance with Theravada tradition, breathing is focused on the tip of the nose rather than on the belly (as Mahasi Sayadaw taught), and basic concentration meditation is taught before proceeding to vipassana or insight training.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 34
Various Views. Various Opinions Every other week, a group of lay people meets at the Vihara to read and discuss the
suttas, the sacred texts of Theravada Buddhism. The sutta study class uses English translations of the Pali suttas, so a central part of the class involves clarifying the meaning of terms and references used in the readings. During one discussion, an American student
asked the rest of the group about a passage referring to the 'Three Realms of Existence.”
A Sinhalese student in the group responded with an elaborate explanation of Buddhist
cosmology. The Buddha taught that there are three realms into which we are reborn. Only those beings who have advanced along the path toward enlightenment and nibbana 10 are reborn into the higher realms, the realms of form (rupa-loka) and formlessness (arupa-
loka). The rest of us continue to be reborn into the first realm, the realm of desire(kama -
loka). This realm is further divided into six parts: the human world, the animal world, the lower heavens, the hells, the world of titans, and the world of hungry ghosts. Buddhist art
and literature is filled with vivid descriptions of these worlds. The location of our rebirth is a consequence of ourkamma 11—our intentioned thoughts, speech, and action in this and in
previous lifetimes. As the student elaborated upon the details of this complex cosmology, the group’s
leader began to quietly chant a phrase from a verse read earlier in the evening. “Various views, various opinions...” he repeated over and over, as if it were a mantra. On another
occasion, he had explained to the group that Western scholars have understood Buddhist
cosmology in terms of psychological metaphor. There is evidence that the second and
l0Sanskrit: nirvana. (In most instances, I use the Pali form when referring to key Buddhist concepts, since Pali is the sacred language of Theravada Buddhism and the Pali terms were more commonly used by participants at the Vihara. In cases where participants used the Sanskrit form of a word, I have retained their usage.) Nibbana is described in sacred texts as the destruction of craving, the end of suffering, the highest happiness, the ultimate peace, security, and liberation. It is referred to both as a state which arises in an enlightened person, and as something, or some place, into which an enlightened person achieves access.
11 Sanskrit: karma.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 35
third realms may coincide with certain higher states of consciousness attained and subsequently described by Buddhist meditation masters. The worlds of the first realm are
thought by some to describe various states of being. In our own minds, we experience the bliss of the heavens, the baseness of the animal world, or the torture of the hells. In this
sense, our pastkamma shapes the way we experience the world, rather than shaping the
world itself. It was clear on this occasion that the Sinhalese student describing the Three Realms of Existence interpreted them as real, physical places, not simply states of mind. The leader’s chant suggested to the rest of the class that this view should be considered as
merely one interpretation among many. Participants at the Vihara express a variety of views and opinions about Buddhism,
and about the meaning and function of the Vihara itself. In many cases, these views reflect
the backgrounds of the participants, but participants’ present circumstances are also influential. Experiences, opportunities, and capabilities combine to create “habitats of meaning’’ which shape the way participants understand what the Vihara is and how it fits
into their lives. As Hannerz points out, “Habitats [of meaning] can expand and contract.
As they can overlap entirely, partially, or just possibly not at all, they can be identified with either individuals or collectivities’’ (1996: 22-23). While some participants share similar perspectives, others may be rather unique, and some are even contradictory. A few
examples will illustrate how participants’ understanding of the Vihara is influenced by their
diverse habitats of meaning, and how these habitats intersect and overlap with one another.
Four Sinhalese Buddhists Sinhalese participants at the Vihara exhibit diverse backgrounds, skills, resources
and needs. They vary in age, class, education, family status, and gender, as well as in the
timing of their immigration. Although most are fluent in English, they vary in their ability to speak and read Sinhala and other languages. Most have immigrated from urban areas,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 36
particularly from Colombo, Sri Lanka’s capital, but some grew up and have family
remaining in rural villages. The ability to return to Sri Lanka, and the amount of time they have spent away from Sri Lanka, also influence participants’ perspectives.
Chandra12 Chandra has lived in the United States since 1966. when she left Sri Lanka as a
young woman. She managed to get a job here, she explained, and after a while, she “just decided to stay.” A friendly and generous woman, Chandra considers herself a good Buddhist. After a meal, she would wrap up crackers and bread in a napkin and stuff them into her purse to bring home for the squirrels near her apartment. Her deep concern and
affection for animals developed early in her childhood. Chandra’s mother died when she was five, and she chose to stay with her grandmother who was a Buddhist and a
vegetarian. Chandra went to Buddhist schools where she learned to be kind to all living
beings. Her father was a Catholic though, and like other non-Buddhists, he sometimes
hunted animals to eat. Chandra told me that she would often come home from school and ask her father why he was killing and hurting animals. Decades later, she still spoke about
this experience with real anger in her voice. Chandra arrived in Washington, D.C., just as the Vihara was being established, and she became one of its earliest supporters. She speaks proudly of her role in providing
dana to the first resident monk when he still lived in a small apartment in town, even before the current building was purchased. Chandra continues to be an active participant at
the Vihara today. She attends devotional services and participates at most annual holy day
ceremonies. She also visits “a god temple” in town, where she worships a Buddhist deity
12Except in cases where a participant is a public figure (usually a monk), I have used pseudonyms or initials to protect the privacy of those involved in this study.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 37
and prays for worldly intercessions. The practice of worshipping gods is a feature of
traditional Sinhalese Buddhism, and devales (temples dedicated to one or more gods) and
vihdras often occupied the same site in Sri Lanka. Some Sinhalese Buddhist gods evolved
from local, nativist, spiritual protectors, but many are closely related to Hindu deities. The Buddha taught that gods cannot “save” human beings, but they can be asked to protect Buddhism and assist humans in worldly affairs (Malalgoda 1976:23-24). Sinhalese Buddhists have traditionally distinguished between practices with worldly efficacy— astrology, white magic, and making offerings to the gods—and those aimed at attaining
enlightenment, namely meditation and merit making (Gombrich 1988: 23). Chandra sees
no contradiction in visiting the nearby Hindu “god temple,” because for her and many other Sinhalese Buddhists, devales and vihdras fulfill different, but compatible functions. Chandra has also been involved in organizing activities for the Sri Lankan
community beyond the temple. An active expatriate, she helped plan the annual Sri Lankan New Years Celebration in 1997, and she regularly attends cultural events and shows sponsored by the Sri Lankan Embassy. During our conversations together, Chandra often
reminisced about the Sri Lanka of her youth. She described the food, the markets, and the village temples in vivid detail, and fondly recalled her days in the Buddhist schools. If she can manage to save enough money to retire in Sri Lanka as she hopes, it is clear that she
will not be returning to the same place she remembers leaving thirty years ago. Once,
when she was nostalgically describing a “typical village” scene to me, a monk standing nearby observed that she had not been back to Sri Lanka for a long time. “It’s not like that
now,” he assured her, describing the crowded, impersonal conditions that characterize the
country’s rapidly spreading urban centers. She frowned uncomfortably, suspecting his remark was true, but not wanting to believe it.
For Chandra, the Vihara has been a refuge from all that is foreign in this country.
Photographs of Sri Lankan pilgrimage sites, familiar Buddhist ritual items, traditional
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 38
flower arrangements, and tiffin containers filled with aromatic curries, all conjure up
familiar and comforting images. Traditional practices like transferring merits to deceased
relatives allow her to maintain her identity as a Sinhalese Buddhist, even while adopting the
dress, language, and mannerisms of the majority culture. In this sense, the Vihara
functions primarily to preserve and promote the values of an 'imagined community’ based
in a past time and distant place (Anderson 1983). Most of the early Sinhalese immigrants left Sri Lanka voluntarily, unlike some of
the Theravada refugees who have arrived in recent decades. Although Chandra was
reluctant to discuss it, it is likely that she and others chose to leave a place that was already
becoming quite different from the ways she now imagines it. Because she cannot afford to
return to Sri Lanka regularly, Chandra’s ’homeland’ is based in large part on memories and idealized events. Following Sri Lanka’s independence from Britain in 1947, Sinhalese
nationalists popularized an image of the new nation as an historically peaceful, unified,
Sinhalese Buddhist homeland. Efforts were made to reinvigorate conservative Buddhist
values and practices, and to reestablish the rightful place of Buddhism throughout the island. In the process, most researchers contend, they alienated the non-Buddhist minority
and laid the foundation for the on-going civil war in that country (e.g., Bond 1988,
Dharmadasa 1992, Tambiah 1992). When Chandra left Sri Lanka in 1966, the failure of the nationalists’ reform policies was becoming clear, but the government continued to
make symbolic gestures toward the majority Buddhist population, for example by sponsoring Buddhist missions around the world (Phadnis 1976, Bond 1988). It was in this context that the Washington Buddhist Vihara was established. Chandra views
Sinhalese and Buddhist culture as inseparably intertwined. For her, the Vihara is not
simply a Buddhist place, but necessarily a Sinhalese-Buddhist place and Americans’
interest in the Vihara is a source of both religious and cultural pride.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 39
Rohana
Rohana is much younger than Chandra, and he arrived in the United States with a later cohort of immigrants during the late 1980s, a turbulent time in Sri Lanka.13 Like most Sinhalese immigrants, Rohana says he plans to go back to Sri Lanka to live someday; however, he has not returned since coming here for school several years ago, and seems
unlikely to visit anytime soon. He has created a modest but good life here: his college
education secured him a satisfying job, he has several Sri Lankan friends his own age, he
has his own apartment, and his car sports personalized license plates. When an illness in his family threatened to force him to return to Sri Lanka in 1998, he lamented his
predicament: “It’s not like here,” he said. “[You] can’t call 911!” Yet, despite his
attachment to his American lifestyle, Rohana works hard to preserve certain elements of his Sinhalese Buddhist identity. He proudly wears traditional Sinhalese Buddhist attire on
special cultural occasions, and urges fellow Sinhalese young people to use Sinhala, their native tongue, when speaking to one another. He ridicules those Sinhalese who try to fit in to the majority culture by imitating Euro-American tastes in food and entertainment.
Rohana also views himself as a good Buddhist, but as he told me, one does not need to go to a temple to be a good Buddhist. “I don’t have to come to the temple,” he explained. “If [theDhamma] is in our minds, if we are trying to do that, that’s enough.”
Nevertheless, he attended most annual ceremonies at the Vihara, occasionally participated
in devotional services, and became actively involved in raising funds for the Vihara by
13Since 1983, Sri Lankans have endured a violent civil war between the Sinhalese majority, who are mostly Buddhists, and members of the Tamil-speaking minority (mostly Hindus), who are demanding an autonomous state. During the late 1980s, Sinhalese nationalists, primarily members of the Janalha Vimukti Peramuna (JVP), initiated a violent anti-government campaign in response to the government’s efforts to negotiate a settlement with the Tamil separatists. The government responded by closing down schools and universities, and executing hundreds of students, monks, and soldiers accused of insurrectionary activities. Meanwhile, ethnic strife between Tamil Hindus and Sinhalese Buddhists continued to escalate (Fitzpatrick 1995).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 40
performing in a Sinhalese cultural show. During an interview, he explained to me why he felt that Buddhist temples and monks continue to serve an important function:
But still I believe we need temples, we need monks, because these are the places to keep theDhamma, to protect theDhamma. And even the monks...they cannot do everything according to the[Dhamma]. I mean, they are people like us, you know, they make a lot of mistakes. But still, you and me can’t come and do this, you know, we are in ’material life.’ They are doing something for free. They dedicated their lives, so that is a good thing 1 think. So because of them, years and years, a thousand years now, they’ve protected Buddha’sDhamma , generation to generation. So because of that I think we have to help the temple.
These comments suggest that, for Rohana, the primary function of avihara is to provide a place for monks to preserve, protect, and passDhamma, down the though not
necessarily a place for lay people to practice it. When war and famine threatened to
decimate the Buddhist tradition in the first century BCE, the Sinhalese Sangha (order of monks) made a critical decision to protect the Buddha’s teachings, even at the cost of maintaining the practice.14 As long as the teachings were available, they believed, the
practice could be reestablished; without the teachings, Buddhism would not survive. It was the Sinhalese Sangha who first recorded the Pali Canon,15 and historically, Sinhalese
monks have taken as their primary role the preservation and interpretation of the Buddha’s
Dhamma and discipline, which may have saved both the teaching and the practice.16 This
14The Buddha’s prediction that this sasana (the cyclical period during which the Buddha’s teaching would gradually be lost to this world) would end in 500 years would also have been a concern among Buddhists at this time.
15The Pali Canon was recorded in the first century BCE, and is believed to represent the earliest record of the Buddha’s teaching (later versions were composed in Tibetan and Chinese). Arguably, no one knows how accurate a recollection of the Buddha’s own words is recorded in the Pali Canon, but Gombrich points out that the internal coherence and originality of thought exhibited in “the main edifice” of this collection suggest that it is the work of a single “genius” rather than a later collaboration (Gombrich 1988: 20). The “main edifice” to which Gombrich refers includes the Vinaya Pitaka. the Buddha’s rules of discipline for his monastic followers, and much of the Sutta Pitaka. the recorded sermons of the Buddha (plus poems and other texts not attributed to the Buddha). The last collection of texts is the Abhidhamma Pitaka. a systematic psychology based on Buddhist doctrine, developed by Theravada monks after the Buddha’s death.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 41
conservative, scholarly tradition is a source of cultural pride among Sinhalese Buddhists, and it provides them with important symbolic capital when interacting with other Buddhists in America.17 While Rohana credits the Sinhalese Sangha with preserving and spreading the
Dhamma over the past two thousand years, he implies that it may now be time to share this responsibility with others. In the same interview, he argued that the Vihara should
ultimately be run by Americans:
[T]hey are trying to leam the Buddhism and try to practice the Buddhism, the Americans. That is very good. I am very happy. But...my idea is the American temples [are] not for Sri Lankans. These temples should spread the Buddhism for the Americans and one day [there] should be American monks running the American temples, not Sri Lankan temples. That’s what should happen....Because...Buddhism is not for any race, or any religion, or any country or nothing. It’s for everybody who likes it, right? So these monks who bring the Buddhism from Sri Lanka, ...[they] give this truth to Americans. I mean, tell the Americans. And then they [the Americans] have to take it and they have to produce their own way.... The same thing happened to Sri Lanka many years ago. Some Indian monks, they bring the Buddhism to Sri Lanka. And after that, the Buddhism is there but it spread according to the Sri Lankan culture, you know...after that there is no connection between them. So even this temple should be American, I mean, not Sri Lankan. The notion that Buddhist temples in America should be ’American’ in terms of both the
style of practice and ultimate control is significant given Rohana’s obvious pride in his Sinhalese heritage. Comments he made during a ceremony at the Vihara in 1999 help to
clarify his perspective. During a ceremony in which a group of mostly Sinhalese
participants chanted for several hours, Rohana expressed his belief that “real Buddhism” in
Sri Lanka is dying out. It will disappear within a few generations, he believes, because the
16DumouIin (1976) argues that it is likely that the Theravada practice of insight meditation was passed down through texts rather than through personal transmission.
17Despite the popularity of more progressive Mahayana schools of Buddhist thought, the Theravada tradition is generally well-respected and admired for its preservation of the Pali Canon, its unique form ofvipassana bhavana, and its strict monastic discipline.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 42
monks today are increasingly corrupt and because the lay people only practice superficially now. “People don’t meditate,” he pointed out. “They just do chanting and devotional
things” as indeed participants were doing during this particular ceremony.
The opinion that “real Buddhism” involves meditation is pervasive among many non-Asian Buddhists, but it has also become common among urban, educated Asian
Buddhists. Over the past century, modem reformers throughout Asia, critical of corruption within theSangha , urged lay people to practice Buddhism more directly, without relying on the monks as religious mediators. At the same time, many of these
reformers were influenced by Western interpretations of Buddhism, which dismissed
some non-meditative practices as merely cultural accretions onto to the “true” or “real”
Buddhism. The subsequent popularity of Buddhist meditation, often stripped of its doctrinal and devotional counterparts, is evidenced by the establishment in recent decades
of thousands of lay meditation centers around the world. Rohana’s comments reflect an awareness of these changes within Buddhism, and point to the complicated ways that
religious and ethnic identity intersect with social status and economic power.
Rohana’s views on the Vihara seem to be shaped by two overlapping processes of identity construction: one cultural and the other religious. On the one hand, he cultivates
and maintains his Sinhalese identity by using his native language and following Sinhalese
customs in regard to food and clothing. Yet he displays this aspect of his identity primarily
in the context of fellow Sinhalese Americans as a form of cultural critique and in defiance
of those who, in his opinion, try to act too American. On the other hand, he advocates the Americanization of Buddhism in the United States and specifically, the Americanization of the Vihara. Probably more than in Sri Lanka, Rohana asserts his religious identity as a
Buddhist, though importantly, not a Sinhalese-Buddhist.
Research has shown that religious identity is often central to the immigrant
experience. The process of immigrating itself may be a “theologizing experience,”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 43
prompting increased religiosity, in that moving to a new country poses dilemmas requiring
spiritual interpretation (Smith 1978 as cited in Warner 1998b: 16). In many cases,
Williams argues, immigrants are more religious than they were before they left their homeland (1988:11). In the context of the United States, religious identity may be
especially salient because unlike in countries where one religion dominates, religious
identity here must be actively constructed. As Warner explains:
.. .to say that religion is salient for immigrants is not to say that they merely cling to what they had before they left their home countries. As religion becomes less taken for granted under the pluralistic and secular conditions prevailing in the United States, adherents become more conscious of their tradition and often more determined about its transmission. Religious identities nominally assigned at birth become objects of active persuasion ( 1998b: 17).
Rohana actively asserts his identity as a Buddhist, in part because it is through this
identity that he is able to negotiate relations with members of the dominant culture, on his own terms and on relatively equal footing. If the Vihara were to remain a predominantly
Sri Lankan temple, he suggests, it would be isolated from American culture; this could potentially result in the further exclusion of those who participate there. For Rohana and other Sinhalese Americans, the Vihara may provide a way to become Americans without losing themselves in the process.
Dipa
Dipa came to the United States in 199S for a three-year tour of duty at the Sri Lankan Embassy. Before leaving Sri Lanka, she had read a book by a lay meditation teacher and began attending his weekly vipassana classes at a nearby temple. When she
arrived in Washington, she located the Vihara and began attending meditation classes
regularly. She enjoyed talking with the monks about theDhamma , and tried to incorporate
the Buddha’s teachings into her own life. She attended annual ceremonies but sometimes
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 44
felt “lonely” and alienated among the other Sinhalese participants. “I just think differently
than they do” she observed.
“I’ve had a lot of suffering in my life,” Dipa confided in me during a long drive together. Her first husband, the father of her children, had been violent and abusive to her from the beginning of their marriage. In retrospect, she conceded that she was never really in love with him. but had merely acted in fear. “I don’t know why I was so scared of him”
she said, looking back on the experience. For seventeen years, “I suffered under his belly” and endured his “harassment.” Then one day, when he had gone away for a while, she
packed up herself and her children and moved out. Relatives protected her for a while, but
fearing for their own safety, they eventually asked her to leave. “I guess you can only do so much for someone," she acknowledged. After that, she explained, things were difficult, and “in difficult situations, one does
what one needs to do.” This is why she married her second husband, despite feeling no
affection for him. As a single woman with three children, including a daughter whose marriage she would someday be responsible for, Dipa felt she had no other choice but to
remarry. Eventually her second husband became impossible to live with too, so they separated. Dipa attributes her suffering tokamma, the results of actions taken in her
previous lives. A spiritual adept once told her she had been married to her first husband in
a past life. In that life, her husband was a young girl and Dipa had been the abusive husband. “Now, so many lives I will have to suffer for this,” she lamented. Even now,
she characterized her children as neither loving nor obedient. “Even children can be your
enemies. Perhaps I did them some wrong in a previous life.” On another occasion, Dipa
confessed, “I don’t want to get married in my next life. I don’t want to have to suffer like this again.”
Buddhism teaches that dukkha, suffering, is the first of Four Noble Truths about
human existence. In this sense, dukkha refers not only to the kinds of physical suffering
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 45
linked to living itself (birth, old age, disease, and death), but also to the kinds of suffering caused by the impermanence of all things, and by the unsatisfactoriness of being—the
suffering associated with the 'self itself. According to the Buddha, what we call “the self’ is merely a collection of impermanent phenomenon: the body and its senses, thoughts, feelings, perceptions, and dispositions. We become attached to these phenomenon as a
self, and through them we become attached to other things, as evidenced by thoughts like
“I am” and “I have.” The Buddha realized that dukkha is caused by tcmha (thirst) or craving, and that dukkha ends when craving ceases. The fourth noble truth, which
constitutes the heart of the Buddha’s Dhamma, is described as the path to end all suffering.
Dipa found that meditation and practice of theDhamma helped her to cope with her
suffering over the past few years. “People say I look happier now,” she said. She treats
her difficulties as “lessons” now. She laughed as she told me that a wise woman once told
her she was very fortunate, because she had so many lessons in her life. During a visit to the Vihara, Dipa complained to one of the monks that she had a bad experience at work. Despite efforts to view the situation rationally according to the Buddha’s teachings, she
found that all she could do was cry. “Why can’t we put these thoughts out of our heads?"
she asked the monk. She had tried to remind herself that it was only her ego that was hurt,
and that there was no 'self to get hurt. Yet she remained upset and was frustrated by her
inability to do what seemed so logical. The monk explained that even though she understood the Buddha’s teachings intellectually, she would only be free from suffering
when she had developed real insight through meditation. As a mother and a full-time
worker, Dipa had little time for meditation at home. She often found that when she tried to meditate there, she was distracted by thoughts of laundry, work, and what to make for
dinner. At the Vihara though, she was able to find a sense of peace and calm.
For Dipa, the Vihara was primarily a place of refuge, but it was a personal and spiritual refuge rather than a cultural one. It was here at the Vihara that she could distance
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 46
herself from the demands and worries of her daily life long enough to see them for what they were. In vipassaha bhavana, the meditator strives to analyze thoughts and emotions
in order to develop insight into the true nature of existence. In the Theravada tradition, one begins by meditating on the breath in order to calm the mind and provide a point of focus
to which one returns again and again. Buddhist teachers frequently talk of the “monkey
mind:’’ normally the mind is like a monkey swinging from branch to branch, jumping from one thought to the next. Breath meditation develops concentration and awareness so
that the meditator is able to calm the monkey mind and eventually begin developing insight. During an intensive meditation retreat, Dipa found herself “clinging” to thoughts
of her children and her job. When she explained her dilemma to the monk leading the
retreat, he advised her by saying, “You worry too much about everyone else. You need to
take this time for yourself.” Later, reflecting upon her retreat experience, Dipa concluded, “Bhante18 was right. Now I must think of myself.” For participants experiencing
personal pain and suffering, the Vihara may be an important place of safety and security. It may also provide a source of spiritual comfort; from this vantage point, they may begin to
see their lives more clearly and take action guided by greater insight.
Sunil In addition to those Sinhalese immigrants who move to the United States
permanently, and those who are able to stay for only a limited tenure, there are some
immigrants who make this their second home. They continue to visit Sri Lanka at least once a year, often for a month or more. These true ‘transnationals' are perhaps most
clearly aware of the changes that have occurred in Sri Lanka in recent decades. Like earlier immigrants from Sri Lanka, they have chosen to immigrate, often for professional reasons,
l8“Bhante” is a title of respect used when addressing the monks. It is less formal than “Venerable” and is often used, as in this case, without including a proper name.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 47
and often bring other family members here to join them. Their financial, social, and political status allows them to maintain strong ties to both countries though. Sunil is one such participant. An immigration lawyer who travels back and forth frequently for both
business and personal reasons, Sunil’s ‘habitat of meaning’ is clearly influenced by his
transnational lifestyle.
Sunil first came to Washington in 1971 when there were fewer than ten Sinhalese Buddhist families living here. He served as editor of the Vihara’s newsletter throughout the 1970s, and has been on the Vihara’s board of directors for over twenty years. Early on, Sunil participated in various classes and services at the Vihara, but because of his
current focus on the administrative affairs of the temple, he now visits mostly to discuss
business with the monks and other board members, or to attend the large, annual ceremonies. He also visits the Vihara occasionally to receivepirit , individual blessings performed by the monks. In Sri Lanka, Buddhists request blessings for a variety of
reasons: for success in a business endeavor, high marks on a school test, good results from
surgery, support in times of personal crisis, etc. Well-educated and world-sawy, Sunil
admits that he would not even think about leaving for Sri Lanka without receiving a blessing from the monks. “I just feel better,” he explained, “more secure.” In general, Sunil says, he tries to be a good person: to be kind and not to get angry, to refrain from
killing and lying, and to follow the other Buddhist precepts. Buddhism, he says, has
helped him to bring balance into his life, his job, and his relationships.
As an immigration lawyer, Sunil has played a major role in arranging for monks to serve at the Vihara. He is well aware of the institutional difficulties in transplanting
Buddhism to America. The monks who come to the United States are not always as
proficient in English as he would hope and most have had little experience interacting with
Westerners. There are also new demands on the monks, such as performing marriages,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 48
which require them be properly licensed. Sunil is involved in making these arrangements for the Vihara’s monks.
Because he frequently returns to Sri Lanka, Sunil is also aware of how Buddhism is changing there, and how these changes are influencing the Vihara. One recent service
offered by the Vihara featured a type ofpuja and chanting ceremony never performed in the United States. Sunil described this service as an example of “popular Buddhism” as
practiced in Sri Lanka today. In traditional Buddhism, he explained, one was expected to be reflective and meditate, but now lay people want to have a more active role. They want
to express their devotion and earn merit, so they prefer opportunities to chant and offer
food to the monks over more passive activities such as listeningbana. to The monk who performed this particular service had earned a reputation in Sri Lanka for his knowledge of the ceremony, which is why he was invited to visit the Vihara on this occasion. Sinhalese
Buddhists in America are exposed to popular trends in Sri Lanka, including the most favored ceremonies and reputable monks, through transnationals, newcomers, visiting
monks, and relatives remaining in Sri Lanka. Americans and younger Sinhalese Buddhists who make up the second generation in diaspora place further demands on the Vihara. Sunil observed that Americans are
mostly interested in meditation, and younger Sinhalese people want to Dhammahear talks
presented by Buddhist scholars. Both groups are unlikely to view the Vihara as primarily a
place to “mix and mingle” because unlike the older generation of immigrants, they have
other opportunities to interact through school and leisure activities. Knowledgeable, native English-speaking monks are needed to serve these groups, Sunil observed, but it has been difficult to attract and keep such monks here.
For Sunil, the Vihara represents a constantly shifting and malleable institution. In
his view, the function of the Vihara is to provide a place to learn and worship for anyone
who is interested. In order to remain viable though, the Vihara must continuously adapt
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 49
and respond to new demands and effectively compete with other resources. Sunil sees the future of the Vihara much like he views it today. There will always be recent arrivals from
Sri Lanka, he speculates, as well as the children of these families, and there will always be
Americans. Because of the Vihara’s reputation for securing visits from knowledgeable
English-speaking monks, even if only on a temporary basis, Sunil believes the “academic types” in particular will always come to the Vihara rather than other temples. The
Sinhalese remain the majority though, and they continue to provide much of the support
for the Vihara, so their diverse needs must be fulfilled as well. Buddhist temples established by Japanese and Chinese immigrants earlier in this
century have faced many of the same problems plaguing the Vihara, namely the need to accommodate the diverse needs of multiple waves of immigrants, future generations of more ‘Americanized’ Asian Buddhists, and non-Asian Americans interested in learning
about Buddhism. Successful institutions have adapted to change by offering services in
multiple languages, providing a broader range of services, and over time, reinterpreting or eliminating specifically ‘ethnic’ practices. In the case of Jodo Shinshu Buddhist Churches of Canada, Mark Mullins (1988) has found that the process of adaptation resulted in the
gradual assimilation of the Japanese congregation to the dominant “Anglo” culture. While Sunil advocates a responsiveness to change that has served other religious
organizations well, he describes a future which is more pluralist than assimilationist. As
long as the Vihara remains open to a variety of practices and approaches, it will likely
continue to attract a diverse group of participants. But such an accommodationist approach may eventually stretch the resources of the community, as well as the tolerance of some members. At the same time, issues of democratic leadership remain highly contested and unresolved at the Vihara, presenting perhaps the most significant challenge for the Vihara
in coming years. As if to acknowledge this fact, Sunil concluded our interview by noting that some lay people were currently disgruntled over recent decisions by the board of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 50
directors. “There will always be dissidents,” he admitted. Everyone “want things their
way. All chiefs and no Indians!”
Three American Converts Just as Sinhalese participants bring a variety of experiences and perspectives to the
Vihara, Americans’ habitats of meaning are equally complex and diverse. Americans
bring an entirely different set of meanings to the Vihara, influenced by factors like age, race, gender, education level, economic status, religious background and exposure to
Buddhism. Here I consider three individuals whose habitats intersect and overlap with one another, as well as with those of the Sinhalese participants discussed above.
Barry Barry, a baby-boomer who grew up outside of Washington, D.C., has been a participant at the Vihara for nearly twenty-five years. He was first exposed to Buddhism in
college, when he read some articles on comparative religion for a course in philosophy. It was an “interesting headtrip,” he recalls. Years later, Barry came upon a story about one
of the Buddha’s disciples. This disciple had suggested that the world is made up of tiny
bits of matter which come into and out of existence so quickly that we experience things around us as solid and permanent, rather than fleeting and constantly undergoing change.
More than two thousand years later, physicists are now confirming what this monk had come to understand through his practice of Buddhism. “That blew my mind,” Barry recalled, and turned him on again to Buddhism.
Before discovering the Vihara, Barry became involved in Soka Gakkai International (an evangelical, chan ting-based form of Buddhism originating in Japan). He explored a
number of Mahayana temples in the Washington area as well, but found them a bit
“closed-off.” Finally, in the mid-1970s he read a brief interview in a local newspaper with
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 51
Ven. Gunaratana, who was then the chief monk at the Vihara, and concluded that the
Theravada Buddhist tradition was best suited to his own interests. He appreciated “the Indian-like tradition” and Ven. Gunaratana’s “thinking approach” to Buddhism. “This,”
he thought, “is real Buddhism.” For several years, Barry “dabbled” in Buddhism at the Vihara. He attended weekly
meditation sessions and participated in the variousDhamma classes and sutta study groups which coalesced over the years. He attended annual ceremonies and grew especially fond of the Sinhalese food served on these occasions. A personal crisis ultimately prompted him to reconsider the role of religion in his life though. Out of work and alone, without a
place to live on his own, he decided to devote more time to meditation and committed himself to practicing the Dhamma. The effort was transformative. During a period of
deep meditation, he experienced a profound shift in consciousness which led him to believe “There really was something to this.”
Although he is still reluctant to participate in devotional practices such as offering puja, Barry has since taken up the practice, ubiquitous among Asian Buddhists, of bowing
to the statue of the Buddha in a gesture of devotion. He interprets this practice as an expression of admiration for one who has experienced and shared the truth of these
teachings. Growing up as a Catholic, Barry had an understanding of religious faith as “belief beyond reason.” In Buddhism, he found, one merely needs to have enough confidence in the teachings to try them, and then gradually faith grows from the conviction
of one’s own experience rather than through blind trust. In explanation, Barry referred to a
frequently cited sutta in which the Buddha is said to have cautioned a group known as the Kalamas against placing faith in any teaching they have not experienced for themselves:
Yes, Kalamas, it is proper that you should have doubts; that you should have perplexity ...do not be led by reports, or tradition, or hearsay. Be not led by the authority of religious texts, nor by mere logic or inference, nor by considering appearances, nor by delight in speculative opinions, nor by seeming possibilities, nor
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 52
by the idea: ‘this is our teacher.’ But, O Kalamas, when you know for yourselves that certain things are unwholesome, and wrong, and bad, then give them up....And when you know for yourselves that certain things are wholesome, and good then accept them and follow them. (Anguttara-nikaya as cited in Rahula 1959:3).
Barry particularly appreciated the emphasis in the Theravada tradition on the Pali Canon, including suttas like the one he cited above. Reading the suttas, he pointed out to a
group of students visiting the Vihara, is “like going right to the source.” Some Buddhist
teachers discourage students from becoming deeply involved in the philosophical aspects of the teachings, since they can become attached to concepts rather than experiencing the
Truth itself. Barry finds that his extensive reading of the suttas and the Abhidhamma has helped support his practice though. Thesuttas are the most accessible way to learn about
Buddhism, he said. They are like “a how-to book on how to become enlightened.” For Barry, enlightenment is the ultimate goal of Buddhist practice, and his main
reason for coming to the Vihara is to support his practice and “keep him on the path.” He
acknowledges the difficulty in achieving enlightenment, but believes it is attainable for anyone who seriously pursues the Buddha’s path. Historically, Theravada Buddhism
advocated a ’gradual path’ to enlightenment. According to the Pali commentaries, one
pursues the gradual path by developing in turn, and over the course of many lifetimes,
morality, concentration, and wisdom. In pursuing this path, one gradually progresses from
the level of mundane existence to a supramundane level thought to be rarely achieved
today. It was assumed that in order to progress to the supramundane level, one must
necessarily renounce lay life with all its responsibilities and distractions.
Although the Buddha’s teachings suggest that all human beings are capable of attaining nibbana, the suttas imply that some were further along the path than others. For the laity, the Buddha typically preached about moral defilements, the virtues of merit
making and generosity, the law ofkamma, and the goal of a better rebirth. For those
further along the path, as reflected in their renunciation of lay life, the Buddha addressed
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 53
issues related to the penetration of higher states of wisdom and the release of attachments
necessary to attainarahantship (a supramundane existence leading directly tonibbana) (Bond 1988:28-31). Modem Theravada Buddhists reject the notion that the only training
appropriate for lay Buddhists is the development of morality. They advocate a more accelerated path in which Buddhists who are still involved in lay life can pursue insight
more directly through vipassana bhavana. In Barry’s opinion, the validity of the religion
lies in the fact that the Buddha was an ordinary person. This fact, he explained, provides
the inspiration, “I can do this too.” Barry acknowledges a number of intermediary benefits to meditation. Once, in a
conversation outside the Vihara, a young Asian American woman told Barry and me that
she was convinced of the potential for psychic power within all of us, provided we are
aware enough. Barry agreed, pointing out that meditation increases one’s awareness, and while it was not his intended purpose for meditating, he believed it was possible, as a side- effect of meditation, to develop certain psychic abilities. On another occasion Barry
reported having experienced paranormal phenomena himself since learning to meditate.
During an extended meditation retreat, he heard the sounds of past occupants of the site
where his meditation hut stood. The sounds included Buddhist chants which had been
sung to sanctify the newly-built hut just a month before, as well as the drumming sounds from long-dead Native Americans buried nearby. Like most meditators, Barry
acknowledges more mundane benefits of meditation as well. Before he began meditating,
he frequently became upset by “idiots” driving recklessly around him on his way to work. Meditation taught him to mindfully watch his thoughts and emotions as they arise and simply allow them to fall away. As he discovered, “If you watch a feeling long enough,
you find that it is impossible to sustain it.” When I interviewed Barry in 1998, he told me
he had been “away from meditation” for about a year. He noticed a change in his
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 54
disposition though, and intended to return to meditation. As he put it, he had begun to feel “something missing, or rather something that meditation took away is coming back.” An important part of why Barry participates at the Vihara is his belief that “this is
real Buddhism.” While he has meditated with other Buddhist groups made up of mostly
non-Asian Americans, he found that they often oversimplify the Buddha’s teachings and take a “wishy-washy” approach to practice. At the same time, he is critical of Buddhist
teachers who attempt to politicize the teachings by linking them to feminism, Marxism,
and environmentalism, thereby straining the Dhamma to fit their own needs. Theravada Buddhism has historically been considered the purest, most original form of Buddhism,
because of its conservative monastic lineage, its reliance on the Pali version of the Canon,
and its belief in gradual, individual progress toward enlightenment. In Barry’s opinion, Americans have been too quick to modify and adapt Buddhism to their own needs without
fully understanding these original teachings and practices. He expressed a wish that more
Sinhalese temples be established in America, so that real Buddhism could be taught and practiced here. Barry was drawn to the Vihara for both spiritual and intellectual reasons. Like
many non-Asians looking for an authentic alternative to their own religious background, he appreciated the purify of the Theravada teachings as they were presented at the Vihara.
Insight meditation was the central element of Barry’s practice. At the same time, he
enjoyed opportunities to expand and display his own knowledge of Buddhist philosophy, by participating in classes and talking with student groups who visited the Vihara.
Aleisha Aleisha, a middle-aged African American woman, also expressed the view that
meditation was her primary reason for participating at the Vihara. Coming to the Vihara
“keeps me from falling away,” she explained. “It’s keeping me on the path, keeping me
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 55
doing the practice. And then the result of coining [is], little by little, I get more insight.”
Unlike Barry though, Aleisha read very little about Buddhism and she embraced
meditation as simply one of many practices which constituted her personal spiritual path. A self-described “yoga-Birkenstock kind of girl,” Aleisha pointed out during our interview
that she was “not a strictly Buddhist person.” She discovered Buddhism about ten years ago, at a critical time in her life. She was about to end her marriage of nearly twenty-five
years when a friend introduced her to vipassana bhavana. “I think it was karma” she
said. Initially, everything was “a disaster” after the divorce, but then she started meditating, visiting a Thai temple occasionally, and even traveled to Thailand. She was
introduced to yoga at this time too, and found that together, yoga and meditation helped her feel “more connected.”
Aleisha first visited the Vihara in 1992, after she had moved into the neighborhood
and discovered the temple on her way to work. She began attending the meditation classes,
and now also participates in the annual ceremonies and day-long retreats. She contributes
to the Vihara financially and makes offerings of food and flowers. She does not participate in the sutta classes though, and resists such an intellectual pursuit. “I’m trying very hard
not to read so much and get into the philosophy study part but to just do the meditation,” she said. In this sense, Aleisha’s Buddhist practice was an exploratory, experiential
endeavor, intentionally unencumbered by doctrine or discipline. Aleisha had little interest
in socializing at the Vihara either. During our interview, she recalled a time before the fire
when participants gathered after the meditation class to have tea and chat. That “was nice,” she remembered, “but it didn’t fit for me. I’m pretty much a loner, I guess,” she laughed.
In addition to the Vihara, Aleisha visits a Tibetan temple regularly, where she
performs circumambulations of the sacredstupas (dome-shaped monuments), and is
learning a Tibetan Buddhist practice which “prepares you to be awake when you die, [so]
you die consciously.” She occasionally sits with other meditation groups, including the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 56
Washington Mindfulness Community. She has attended several weekend retreats at the Bhavana Center, and has also visited a yoga retreat center. She continues to practice yoga
and takes classes at a small yoga studio in town. Recently, she has gotten involved in
studying ayurveda, an ancient Hindu art of medicine, and pranayama, a yogic breathing
practice. During other conversations, Aleisha explained how she has begun to incorporate insights from astrology andfeng shui into her daily life. “It’s like there’s not one place that
I’ve found that I could get everything,” she explained. Nevertheless, she’s found that “it’s
[all] the same Truth. And no one is saying ‘We are the only way’ but it’s the same Truth just said in different ways, and sometimes different styles to reach it.”
For Aleisha, the Vihara is a spiritual resource, but it is only one of many. Since the 1960s Americans have gained access to a wealth of spiritual alternatives, many of which were previously practiced and taught only in the East. Over the course of that decade, Westerners traveling throughout Asia encountered hundreds of mystics and holy men, and
experimented with a wide range of meditational, ascetic, and psychedelic practices, which
they later brought home to share with other Americans interested in spiritual development.
At the same time, Asian teachers were finding their way to North America. By 1970, dozens of Buddhist centers and lay Buddhist ‘sitting groups’ had formed throughout
America. Some teachers took this opportunity to strip Buddhism of Asian customs, and
entirely new practices such as the ordination of lay Buddhists developed to meet the
demands of American audiences. These efforts made Buddhism increasingly accessible
and attractive to non-Asian Americans (Fields 1992:239-240). While some people viewed the situation in America during the 1970s as a spiritual
renaissance, others denounced the emergence of a “spiritual supermarket” (Fields 1992: 309). Some Asian Buddhist teachers have been critical of Americans’ tendency to adopt
eclectic concoctions of spiritual practices, only to find themselves further from the truths
they were seeking. Others have criticized efforts to colonize Buddhism by separating
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 57
Buddhist philosophy from religious practice, and eliminating so-called cultural accretions. In Theravada especially, there has been a tendency to separatevipassana from the rest of the tradition, so that there are now many meditation groups which make no claim to
practice Buddhism. New Age spiritualists, for example, draw freely upon decontextualized forms of Buddhism and Buddhist meditation in combination with other Asian and Native American belief systems to create their own eclectic traditions. In general, the Vihara has
been quite open to participants whose practices reflect these varied influences. “I love everything I do!” Aleisha explained, but she believes what she really wants
and needs is a personal teacher: “someone that actually... takes me on as a student.” There have been five meditation masters at the Vihara since she began coming here. She
described one of them as friendly and compassionate, another as very scholarly, and another who sometimes offered “down-to-earth” lessons. “Some I get hooked [on] right
away,” she found. “And some I think, ‘Oh, you’re very different from the last one...’ But then given time, you know, then I’m hooked again.” Aleisha is among many Americans
seeking individualized spiritual direction and advice. During the 1980s, some of the most
prominent Buddhist teachers in America were exposed by reports of sexual indiscretions,
abuse of power, misappropriation of funds, and other related scandals. American Buddhists who had been attracted to these charismatic teachers became deeply disillusioned
and suspicious, and many retreated to their meditation cushions to go it alone (Fields 1992). Aleisha continues to subscribe to the belief that when she is ready, her teacher will appear, perhaps at the Vihara. In the meantime, she explores an assortment of alternatives
with an open mind and a willingness to learn what she can from each of them.
Dan
Dan, an outgoing white man in his early thirties, told me during an interview that he viewed the Vihara mainly in terms of social connections. “I enjoy it very much for the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 58
social aspect and connecting with people who are into this thing I’m into. You don’t meet people into Theravada Buddhism every day,” he laughed. Growing up in a non-theistic Jewish household, Dan described himself as “an outsiders’ outsider,” who grew up to be
“sort of individualistic in the things I believe:”
There are people, they go through their whole life and it’s just a very automatic, straightforward process—or it least it seems like that to me. But I know that’s not always the truth. They grow up. They have problems with their family, but they get along reasonably well. They go to school, they meet somebody, they get married, they punch out a couple kids, they pay off the mortgage, they retire, and it’s all very orderly and automatic. And there’s never, it seems like there’s never, a thought to look over the fence, or even [that] there is a fence! I mean like, “Well, what the hell’s going on?” Since I was a little kid, I’ve always been like “What the hell’s going on?”
Dan became fascinated with science fiction as a young boy, and took up karate
when he was fourteen. He studied yoga before graduating from high school and went on to study Western philosophy in college. In 1994, while living in Maryland, he began looking into Buddhist meditation. In addition to sitting with a number of small meditation
groups, he was involved with the Washington Mindfulness Community for approximately one year before it relocated to the Vihara. Ultimately, Dan found that the path of the
Washington Mindfulness Community was not for him. The group follows the teachings
of Thich Nhat Hanh, who advocates mindfulness as a way to tap into the peace and
happiness available to everyone in each moment. They practice basic breath meditation
using a technique similar to what is taught at the Vihara as an introduction to insight
meditation. When asked to sum up the Washington Mindfulness Community’s approach, a long-time member of the group explained to me: “We smile. That’s our method.” Dan
said he had noticed the “huge smiles on their faces,” but felt like he was missing something there. “I wanted more structure, more guidance, more of a path,” he explained.
As a student with little extra cash, Dan took advantage of the Washington Mindfulness Community’s free book loan service and used the internet to find out more
about Buddhist meditation. His college days had given him “an aversion to the musty-
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 59
dusties” and he found that many popular contemporary books on meditation focused too much on personal stories, while any discussion of Buddhist doctrine tended to be watered-
down. “There is really a dearth of popular stuff for people who want to learn about the thought and the doctrine," he complained. Ultimately, he discovered a web site dedicated
to Theravada Buddhism which provided free access to a collection of brief doctrinal texts published in English by the Buddhist Publication Society in Sri Lanka. “I started reading
this stuff and it just built up momentum," he said.
As a self-proclaimed atheist, Dan found that the Theravada tradition was “more
compatible with my values and temperaments.” He was turned off by the “New-Age-ish
visualizations" used in “Americanized” versions of Buddhist meditation, and he was uncomfortable with many of the non-meditative, devotional practices he found at other ethnic temples. Although he has a greater appreciation for the role of Buddhist ritual now,
at first he says he was attracted to Theravada because it seemed less ritualistic than other
forms of Buddhism. The message presented in the Theravada teachings also seemed to be
more consistent, simple, and literal than in the Mahayana texts he had read. “I’m not into metaphors and the Joe Campbell thing," he admitted. For Dan, the Vihara embodied what
he appreciated most in Theravada Buddhism: its straight-forwardness and authenticity. But
importantly, the Vihara also remained open and tolerant of others’ views. As he explained:
It’s nice, I mean, actually coming and doing something that hasn’t been adulterated as it’s Americanized. It’s meditation and it’s Buddhism but it hasn’t been Tex-Mexed, you know? It has a nice authentic feel to it. And it’s not like walking into a foreign church... the monks are very relaxed. They don’t care what you believe or what you do...it’s very nice.
Dan initially participated only in the Vihara’s meditation classes. Recently he began
attending the sutta classes regularly in order to gain a better understanding of the contents
of the Pali Canon. He points to a bad experience he had at a meditation retreat center run by S. M. Goinka (a charismatic Burmese teacher with centers around the world) as the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 60
primary reason for his interest in studying thesuttas. A friend of his suffered
discrimination at the center because of her sexual orientation, and Dan determined to expose the center’s prejudiced policy in light of the Buddha’s teachings. “I’m a firm believer in knowledge is power” he said. With the help of a friend in journalism, he
intended to gather and disseminate as much information as he could regarding the Buddha’s teachings on tolerance and homosexuality. Dan has also developed his own web site in which he provides links to other electronic resources on Theravada Buddhism. His Theravada web page makes available
downloadable versions of hard-to-access Buddhist texts, and includes the web’s most extensive collection of resources related to women in Theravada Buddhism. He moderates
an electronic list-serve in which over 200 people around the world discuss issues like
reincarnation and the proper posture for meditating. Dan’s dedication to making the Buddha’s teachings more accessible to the general public, and making Buddhist teachers
and institutions more accountable and transparent, reflects a trend in American Buddhism
toward the democratization, feminization, and laicization of the tradition. Like many non-Asian American Buddhists, Dan treats meditation as central to
Buddhist practice, but he implies that his individual practice is still socially engaged and relevant. Meditation had improved his performance at work, he said, and interacting with different types of people at the Vihara has “enriched” his meditation practice. Dan’s
interest in Buddhism is motivated by his own personal experiences and diverse interests,
but his involvement at the Vihara is driven by a desire to share these interests with other people. While he believes that some people come to the Vihara mainly for meditation, he thinks there are many others who come for the same reason he does: “They’re human
beings just like I am. They want to meet other people who share their values and, you
know, network and meet people and stuff.”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 61
Fjvg Monks Like the lay people who participate at the Vihara, the monks who live hete for
months or years at a time bring with them a variety of interests and perspectives. Since the
Vihara was established in 1966, there have been five chief incumbent monks, who also
serve as President of the Buddhist Vihara Society. The current head monk, Ven. D, has served as president since 1988 (with a brief hiatus in 1998 and 1999). Bhante D is credited
with securing the land for the Vihara’s new center and is largely responsible for the
Vihara’s good relations with other Buddhist organizations in the area. He has an infectious laugh and a keen sense of humor—his three favorite English phrases are “So what?” “Who cares?” and “No problem!” He is also a savvy leader though, and he is personally involved in conducting the Vihara’s business and organizational affairs. He travels
frequently and globally, speaks English fluently, and seems to enjoy the life of a Buddhist
monk. Being a monk is like being a bird, he says: a monk travels through life with very little baggage.
Bhante D has been a monk for nearly all of his life, and believes that he was a monk in his previous lives as well. As a young boy in Sri Lanka, he ran away to the
village temple, and pleaded with the monks to make him a novice:
My mother said no, I could not be a monk. She told me that monks are very quiet and calm and I could not be that way. So I continued going to school, but when I was ten, I told my mother again, “I want to be a monk.” Again she said no, I could not be a monk. I was the youngest child and I was very mischievous, I was very naughty. One day I ran away to the temple. It was only a half mile away but that was a long way for that age. When my mother found out where I had gone, she came and brought me back home with a few knocks to the head. My brothers and sisters laughed at me. They said I could not be a monk. But, this only made me stronger in my desire to become a monk. I threatened to run away again, so my parents finally took me to the monastery. It was not usual for such a young boy to become a monk but my family had contributed to the temple, and they were known to the monks, so they had to take mein. Looking back I don’t think there was anything in this life that made me want to be a monk. I hadn’t read any of the books so I didn’t know about Buddhism. But I
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 62
remember going to the temple (our parents took us to the temple) and I remember feeling very peaceful, and I felt, “This is where I belong.” So I think I was a monk in previous lives. After ten years of training at his village temple, Bhante D was appointed chief
incumbent of a small rural temple. Two years later, he went on to the Bhikkhu Training Center in Maharagama where he taught from 197S to 1987. In 1987, he traveled to the
United States and visited the Washington Buddhist Vihara. When the General Secretary at
that time decided to resign, Bhante D received permission from Ven. Pannasiha to take over that position. The following year, Ven. Gunaratana resigned as president of the
Vihara and Bhante D took his place. His tenure has been the longest of any of the Vihara’s
presidents, and it seems likely that he will remain at the Vihara for some time to come.
During my fieldwork period, four other monks and one lay helper also resided at the Vihara. Ven. P, an older monk in his 70s who speaks little English, has lived at the
Vihara since 1993. He served as interim President of the Vihara Society while Bhante D was in Sri Lanka from 1998 through 1999, but he has since resumed the position of Vice President. Bhante P’s warm smile and gentle manner charms Sinhalese and American
participants alike. He is considered an excellent cook and sometimes prepares special Sri
Lankan dishes for the other monks, though he has developed a taste for pizza since living in the United States. Ven. V, a sociable monk who had also taught at the Bhikkhu Training Center, served as General Secretary of the Vihara during the time of my fieldwork. Along
with the Vihara’s resident lay helper, Bhante V was responsible for much of the daily
maintenance of the temple. Ven. K, who joined the Sangha at the relatively old age of twenty-five, served as
the Vihara’s meditation teacher from 1997 through 1999. Tall, poised, and reserved, Bhante K exhibited the qualities of self-control and amused detachment that one might
expect in a meditative monk. He knew Bhante D from their years together as students at
the Bhikkhu Training Center, and accepted his invitation to serve as the Vihara’s meditation
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 63
master, leaving behind his own rural temple to be run by one of his students. Bhante K
seemed curious about American culture and enjoyed learning from his American students
as much as he enjoyed teaching them. Even so, he sometimes complained about the noisy atmosphere of the Vihara, and the demands placed on the monks by lay people’s frequent visits. He took regular walks in the park near the Vihara, and practiced meditation daily. A
palm reader once told Bhante K that he would achieve the status of “stream-enterer,” the
first stage in the path to enlightenment, within this lifetime. After his service at the Vihara,
Bhante K planned to retire in a quiet forest monastery in Sri Lanka, where he could pursue
a meditative lifestyle undisturbed by his duties as a teacher. Although he enjoyed living in
the United States, he worried about securing health care and support as he approached his
old age, issues which were of less concern in Sri Lanka, where lay people have traditionally provided for the needs of theSangha.
The fifth monk who resided at the Vihara during my fieldwork was Ven. A, a
bright, well-respected young monk who was a faithful personal assistant to Ven. Pannasiha
at the Bhikkhu Training Center. Bhante A was allowed to visit the Vihara for one year in order to improve his English. Although he took formal lessons in English as a second
language while he was here, he also agreed to meet with me weekly to exchange a lesson in English for a lesson in Sinhala. Because of his passion for language, Bhante A was an excellent teacher, in addition to being a pleasant companion and the Vihara’s best tea-
maker. A typical day for him involved waking up around 6:00 or 6:30 (considerably later
than he would in Sri Lanka). He meditated, read the Washington Times, ate breakfast, then studied or went to his English language class. The monks usually ate lunch before noon,
in accordance with the Vinaya (the Buddha’s disciplinary regulations). In the afternoon, Bhante A liked to watch “Days of Our Lives”—in order to practice his English, he
insisted. Around 3:00, he took a nap, then studied some more or met with lay people who
stopped by throughout the evening. He and the other monks usually retired to bed around
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 64
10:00. Bhante A led the meditation classes at the Vihara when Bhante K was away, and though he confessed to being nervous about this role, most lay people appreciated his
counsel and characterized him as “a good monk.” Many lay people hoped that Bhante A would stay on at the Vihara and serve as its General Secretary after Ven. V left, but he was
considered too valuable by his teacher, and had to return to Sri Lanka in 1998.
Living in the United States posed unique problems and opportunities for the
monks. The clearest challenge they faced was living up to rules of theVinaya. Money handling, for instance, is traditionally forbidden for Theravada monks, but in the West,
most monks have managed to side-step this regulation by placing bills in an envelope. Transportation was an especially controversial issue at the Vihara, as lay people were
divided over whether the monks should be allowed to drive. To a lesser extent, lay people
were also divided over whether the monks should eat meat and whether they should be
allowed to meet alone with female laity. Because of the nature of the Vihara, the monks were also required to perform some non-traditional tasks such as gardening, cooking,
typing, and basic carpentry, so accommodations to their traditional roles were necessarily
made. These accommodations were constantly being negotiated with the laity and with authorities in Sri Lanka, and the monks themselves held different views on what rules they
considered negotiable. In the United States, Buddhists are a minority, and Buddhist monks are still a relatively rare sight. As a result, the monks often experienced incidents of unwanted
attention. During one of my visits to the Vihara, Bhante K complained that when he went
out for a walk wearing a t-shirt and his bottom robe, people had mistaken him for a “gay
guy!” Bhante V told me about a young American boy who once saw him in his robes and began pestering his mother with questions. Ignoring the mother’s “shushing,” the boy
finally came out and asked, “What’s with that outfit?” Traditionally, a monk’s attire
includes a simple set of robes and perhaps a pair of sandals. Except during the summer
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 65
months, this wardrobe was entirely inappropriate for Washington’s climate. The monks at
the Vihara frequently wore knit hats, sweat socks, shirts, sweaters, shoes or sneakers, but their shaved heads and orange robes still set them apart outside the temple. On one
occasion, Bhante K recalled, two men had yelled out catcalls to him as he walked by them.
He was wearing a coat and hat, he explained, but his robe was still visible underneath.
Other monks recalled being likened to the Dalai Lama or “a kung fa expert.” Bhante D
had once been asked if he could teach a man karate. He had replied in his usual witty manner saying, “Yes, but you will have to live with me for three years!” Balancing the monastic requirements of a Theravada monk with the realities of
living and serving in an urban temple in America was a challenging task for the Vihara’s
monks. Some monks arrived at the Vihara with little training or experience interacting
with Westerners, and were ill-equipped to handle the practical demands of such a diverse
congregation. A few expressed frustration over the fact that the laity’s requests were often impractical or contradictory. Because they relied on the laity for support, they were usually careful to appear responsive and worthy of that support. And yet, because they lived at the
temple, they exercised considerable control over the appearance of the Vihara, the
involvement of particular participants, and the types of activities conducted here. The
monks were also in a unique position to mediate among the lay people, and to mediate between participants and outsiders. Each monk brought a particular set of qualifications and experiences with which to meet these challenges and to take advantage of the opportunities life in America offered. Like the laity, they also brought an individualized
’habitat of meaning’ which shaped their understanding and experience of this place.
As these diverse participants came together at the Vihara, they expressed their multiple views of what the Vihara was, and placed overlapping, competing, and often
contradictory demands on how it should be used. Despite individual preferences, together,
participants recognized and shared certain narratives about the Vihara which they
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 66
acknowledged as meaningful and rhetorically useful in a given context. In Chapter Three, I describe these highly contextual narratives, discuss how they are multiply constituted and therefore necessarily ambiguous, and demonstrate how they were reflected in participants’
shifting definitions and use of this place.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER THREE NARRATIVES ABOUT THE VIHARA
A Not-So-Simple.Cup. of Tea When I first began visiting the Vihara, I noticed that in the kitchen some of the
cupboards were labeled with red plastic strips punched with white letters. On one cupboard, just above the sink, the label read“bhikkhus dishes” (bhikkhus referring to the monks). Across the room, two more cupboards were labeled “dishes for lay people.”
Except for the labels, there was little to distinguish the dishes in one cupboard from those
in another. On Sundays and holy days, when participants gathered for devotional services, I noticed that tea was served to everyone in the appropriatebhikkhus’ cups: cups for the
monks, and lay people’s cups for the rest of us. When I began meeting with Bhante A to exchange lessons in English for lessons in Sinhala, I noticed that he invariably served me
tea in a cup from thebhikkhus’ cupboard. When I asked about this, he replied that in this
case I was his teacher, so I was the one who was “honorable.”
As this example demonstrates, a simple cup of tea can convey many meanings. In fact, what is meant by any object or gesture is rarely obvious, constant, or definitive. In his classic illustration of this idea, Gifford Geertz (1973) pointed out that a simple eye
movement can be understood as a wink or a twitch, depending on the history, setting, and relationship of the people involved. Cultural constructions are meaningful, he argued, only within a context of other meaningful events, ideas, objects, and institutions—a web of
meanings (Geertz 1973). To ’read’ an object or gesture as meaningful ’text’ requires a
shared understanding of the web of meaning in which it is embedded. Similarly, shared
understanding is required to create new cultural meanings. 67
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 68
The range of meanings which can be applied to an object or gesture is therefore potentially great, but never completely arbitrary or endless. Physical characteristics of an
object, previous definitions and uses, and the relationship of those involved, all function to enable and constrain the range of meanings that can be applied and interpreted by a given group of people. In other words, the object itself limits what sorts of definitions and
activities make sense, while simultaneously allowing new definitions and activities to be
rendered meaningful. The custom of using separate dishes for monks and lay people, and storing these dishes in separate cupboards labeled according to their use, rendered the tea cups at the Vihara meaningful to participants there. Some cups conveyed the sense that
one was considered especially honorable, while others did not. This meaning was not
inherent in the cups, which were otherwise not especially distinct, but was constructed
through their use over time, and in the particular situation described, through a process of social interaction and interpretation. By serving me tea in a cup which conveyed honor,
Bhante A had communicated a reinterpretation of our relationship which in turn affected our future interactions.
Places are endowed with meaning and efficacy in much the same way. A place is
made meaningful through an on-going process of description and use which I call ‘placemaking.’ The meaning of a place, whether it is a building, a city, or an entire continent, is always ambiguous. As I suggested in the previous chapter, the Vihara is
many things to many people, and often different things depending on the situation and
those involved. Participants at the Vihara create and respond to changes in their physical
environment, and to shifting relationships among themselves, through their placemaking activities. In this way, they continuously endow the Vihara with meanings that are multiple, shifting, and highly contextual.
Furthermore, as the tea cup illustration shows, the ‘sediment’ of past placemaking
activities frames current activities and provides the content and context for future
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 69
interactions (Jackson 1989). Participants’ definitions and uses of the Vihara are therefore
purposeful, if not always intentional, in the sense that they have socially significant consequences. Placemaking affects the ways the Vihara can be defined and used by other participants, in other contexts, at other times. Moreover, the Vihara provides a record of
past placemaking activities—an observable ‘text’ through which various meanings can be
read and interpreted. Observed over time, the Vihara reflects the range of meanings participants have applied to and through this particular place.
A Tale of Two Shrines
As the focal point of most activities at the Vihara, the shrine room provides a physical record of meanings participants have applied to the Vihara. Participants
continuously recreate the shrine through placemaking activities. Depending on personal
experience and disposition, they may choose to make offerings of flowers or fruit, light candles and incense, or perform prostrations here in front of the statue of the Buddha. Participants use the shrine during services and ceremonies, and adapt it to their various
ritual activities. As a result, the shrine changes subtly from day to day, just as its meaning varies from person to person, according to the activities taking place here.
Since I first visited the Vihara in 1993, several changes have occurred in the physical appearance of the shrine and shrine room and in its use by participants. Some of
the most dramatic changes occurred after the fire destroyed the original shrine and caused serious damage throughout the shrine room in February, 1994. When the Vihara was restored later that year, the shrine was noticeably transformed. As figure 1 shows, the
original shrine was raised up two steps above the rest of the shrine room and featured an
assortment of ritual objects surrounding a gold Buddha statue. The statue sat on a raised platform with a low table in front of it to hold offerings and incense used during
ceremonies. The room was carpeted in deep red, and dark drapes hung behind the statue.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. Figure 1. Original shrine with resident monk seated in front, photographed Nov. 21,1993.
Figure 2. New shrine, photographed Jan. 17,1999.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 71
Two large elephant tusks, a gift from a Sinhalese donor, flanked the sides of the shrine, and
tall decorative fans, associated with Theravada monasticism, leaned against the back comers of the shrine. Statues depicting two prominent figures in Sinhalese Buddhism stood on each side
of the Buddha statue. The statue on the left represented Mahinda, the son of India’s Emperor Asoka who introduced Buddhism to Sri Lanka over 2.500 years ago. On the
right was a representation of Sanghamita, Asoka’s daughter, who brought a sapling of the
original bodhi tree to Sri Lanka and initiated the order of Sinhalese Buddhist nuns. Several other statues, including a standing figure of the Buddha, were placed on shelves along the
side walls of the shrine. A small stupa was placed directly in front of the Buddha statue,
and other smaller ornaments and ritual objects were interspersed among bouquets of flowers, candles, and offering bowls. Vases filled with artificial lotus blossoms, a common motif in Buddhist art, and “coconut flowers,” traditional symbols of prosperity in
Sri Lanka, provided a permanent backdrop for the fresh flowers brought daily by
worshippers. Gold pillows, reserved for the monks to sit on, were typically scattered around the floor of the shrine. A small bowl-shaped bell, used to signal the start and finish
of meditation sessions, was stored beneath the offering table. On one side of the shrine, a
set of microphones was hooked up to a public address system through a mass of black electrical cords.
The larger shrine room, which extends out in front of this shrine area, was also
carpeted in red from wall-to-wall, with two large oriental rugs covering heavily trafficked areas in front of the shrine. Colorful paper chains and streamers hung from the ceiling and
a string of tiny white lights framed the opening into the shrine. During meditation classes
and devotional services, lay participants sat on zafiis (cushions), which were available in an assortment of colors and stacked at the back of the room. During services and other
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 72
activities, monks sat along the raised edge of the shrine. Lay people sat on the floor of the
shrine room, in a random pattern resembling a semi-circle facing the shrine. Objects in the shrine room included a small table with a locked donation box on top of it, a large standing gong, a pottedbodhi tree, and a Buddhist flag strung up on a pole.
Prior to the fire, several participants explained to me that many of the objects on the shrine
had “nothing to do with Buddhism” but were merely decorative and pleasing to look at. The function of the shrine, they suggested, was to remind visitors of the Buddha’s
teachings, while simultaneously evoking a sense of peacefulness and respect. Although
one participant suggested that a pure white wall would provide a more appropriate focal
point for Buddhist practice, most seemed to find the room appropriately inspiring.
In the years following the fire, several changes have been made in the appearance and the use of the shrine room (see figure 2). Although conversations with participants indicated that the function of the shrine remained the same, its physical expression changed
dramatically. Clearly, the most prominent feature of the shrine now is the Buddha statue.
While the new statue resembles the old one in style and pose, it is significantly larger than
the old one, and its finish is pure white rather than gold. Many of the decorative objects, most noticeably the elephant tusks, were destroyed in the fire and never replaced. Incense
and other small statues are currently stored in cabinets on each side of the shrine. The
artificial coconut flowers remain, but they now hold a less prominent position in the back
comers of the room alongside a pair of decorative fans. There are now several bowl
shaped bells on the shrine, as well as a clock used to keep time during services and
meditation sessions. The small pottedbodhi tree now sits on the shrine, to one side of the statue.
The shrine itself is raised up only one step above the shrine room, rather than two, and a simple piece of glass placed on a step in front of the statue forms the offering table.
Dark drapes still hang in the background but now lacy white curtains frame the edge of the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 73
shrine. The tiny white lights and streamers hanging from the ceiling have been replaced by Korean-styled paper lanterns made by a visiting Korean monk, and the room is illuminated by two serpentine floor lamps featuring lights in the shape of lotus blossoms. Throughout the shrine and shrine room, the red carpeting has been replaced by light tan carpets accented by forest green trim.
A large, standing wooden donation box was built to replace the old box and table,
but the gong and flag were never replaced. Posters featuring Sri Lankan pilgrimage sites adorn the walls of the shrine room, and portraits of the Vihara’s past presidents are displayed on the fireplace mantle. The multicolored zafiis have been replaced by complete
sets of meditation cushions, including large ‘zabuton’ mats, square support cushions, and
round zafiis, all in matching dark green fabric. While participants generally sit wherever
they want during devotional services and ceremonies, the cushions are now set out in two
columns prior to the meditation sessions. Meditators sit side-by-side facing the shrine, and the monk serving as meditation teacher sits among the laity on a cushion at the front of the room. It is possible to read these changes as an expression of participants’ shifting values and priorities. The addition of meditation bells and the purchase of special meditation cushions, for instance, suggest that there is now a greater emphasis on the practice of
meditation at the Vihara. The diminished presence of traditional Sinhalese symbols and
ritual objects on the shrine, and the inclusion of other Asian-inspired decorations, such as the Korean lanterns, may imply a less sectarian approach to religious activities. Shifting
attitudes toward the Buddha, as both an historical figure and a model of spiritual perfection, can also be observed in the changes which have taken place. Whereas the previous life- sized Buddha statue, with its golden color, seemed to echo the human presence of the
Sinhalese monks at the temple, the new statue, which sits five feet tall, projects an image of
the Buddha as considerably larger than life and of unrivaled purity. Overall, the new shrine
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 74
and shrine room are brighter and less cluttered, suggesting perhaps a growing preference among participants for simplicity over splendor. Such readings are merely speculative, and
they overlook important questions regarding the decision-making process involved in purchasing the statue and acquiring other objects, but they nevertheless reveal the changing nature of the shrine.
As important as what these changes might reflect is how the changes have influenced participants’ interactions with one another. In the new shrine room, monks sit
only one step above the laity, and their physical presence in relation to the Buddha statue is
now considerably lessened. In the case of the meditation sessions, the monks have begun
to sit at the same level as the laity, though still at the front of the room. These changes may communicate shifts taking place in the hierarchical relationship that exists between monks
and laity, and between the Buddha and the Sangha. At the same time, the multicolored zafiis and haphazard seating arrangements used by lay participants before the fire have been
replaced by monochromatic sets of cushions which are placed in uniform columns during
the meditation sessions. In this context at least, the values of equality and predictability may supersede individual preference and diversity.
These speculations suggest possible readings of the changes occurring at the Vihara, each based on my general observations at the Vihara, and my understanding of
trends taking place at other Buddhist centers in America. It is likely that these interpretations would resonate among at least some, but certainly not all, of the Vihara’s
participants. The range of meanings attached to changes in the physical environment of the Vihara, and to the shifting behaviors of participants, cannot be frilly grasped apart from the specific context of any particular activity, or without considering participants’ multiple
points of view and relationships to one another. Another example of changes made to the
shrine room will help to illustrate this point
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 75
The Shrine Room Transformed Again On August 22,1999, a special ceremony was conducted in honor of the head
monk’s fiftieth birthday. As part of this ceremony, the shrine and shrine room were once again physically transformed, albeit temporarily, through participants’ placemaking activities (see figure 3). Before the ceremony began, thebodhi tree, which previously sat
beside the Buddha statue, was moved to a more prominent position in front of the statue.
Other objects, including the large fans and vases filled with coconut flowers, were moved
out into the shrine room so that organizers could set up a shelf around the walls of the
shrine in preparation for the ceremony to be conducted that day. They covered the shelf with white fabric, and then along the top they placed twenty-eight small white Buddha
statues brought from Sri Lanka, each identical to the larger Buddha statue. As participants
arrived, they placed offerings of flowers, packages containing monks’ robes, and pieces of
white cloth in front of the bodhi tree and statue.
Figure 3. The shrine as it was modified during a ceremony on Aug. 22,1999.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 76
Three participants arrived early to set up cameras on tripods in the shrine room and another set up a video camera. Other transformations to the shrine and shrine room
occurred as part of the ceremony itself. Once the congregation was seated and the resident and visiting monks took their places on the shrine, or on cushions covered with white cloth placed along the wall near the shrine, drum music was played from a tape recorder through
speakers set up in the shrine room. A monk dressed in dark brown robes entered the
shrine room from the hallway carrying astupa-shaped object placed on a cushion and draped in lacy white fabric. Later in the ceremony, thestupa was uncovered and presented
to Bhante D in honor of his birthday. The President of the Buddha Mangala Society (a lay
Buddhist organization in Sri Lanka) had sent the gift, which contained a part of the Sri
Maha Bodhi relic, to be shared with the Vihara community.19 The offering was placed on
the shrine beside the large statue, and was later moved to the front of it. Several lay people followed the brown-robed monk into the shrine room carrying special offerings to the twenty-eight Buddha statues. Each carried a red plastic plate upon
which six paper cups had been filled with colored liquids and grouped around a lit votive
candle. As they passed through the crowd, which now numbered more than one hundred and twenty people, the offerees held out the trays for other participants to touch, thereby
allowing them to participate in the offering as well. Then they placed the trays in front of each of the small Buddha statues. Next, Bhante D announced that a special offering would
be made by the Bangladeshi Buddhists visiting the Vihara. A Bangladeshi man entered the
room carrying a wrapped package containing the requisite belongings of a Buddhist monk,
and placed it among the other offerings on the shrine. Another special offering was made
19Relics from the Buddha’s body, or from the remains of his personal belongings, have been worshipped and preserved almost since his death. One of the most famous relics, the Buddha’s tooth, is enshrined in a stupa at Sri Lanka’s Maha Bodhi temple; each year it is displayed in a religious procession circling the city of Kandy. Most major temples in Sri Lanka claim to possess a small Buddha relic. The Vihara’s relic was described by a Sinhalese participant as “a good gift.”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 77
by a young girl representing the Vietnamese community at the Vihara. She presented a special robe, an offering to the Buddha, to two Vietnamese monks who had been invited to participate in the day’s activities. The monks wrapped the robe around the Buddha statue, draping it over the figure’s shoulder in a style worn by Theravada monks.
Meanwhile the congregation was instructed to chant a familiar Pali verse, “ Sadhu, sadhu,
sadhu” which translates into English as a homage to the Buddha meaning “Excellent, excellent, excellent.’’
Finally a Sinhalese man entered the room carrying a tray covered with assorted dishes of food and drink to be offered to the Buddha; later, these dishes which would be
served to the monks asdana. Throughout the day, sermons were delivered in several
languages, and monks visiting from other temples receiveddana in the shrine room. The highlight of the day’s activities was a special ceremony called “The Puja to the Twenty- Eight Buddhas,” which was conducted by a famous, specially-trained monk invited from
Sri Lanka. This was probably the first performance of this ceremony in the United States,
and one of only a few conducted outside of Sri Lanka, making it a particularly special event for many of the participants involved.
Over the course of the day’s events, participants defined and used the Vihara in ways that changed the look and feel of the shrine and shrine room, and affected the ways
they interacted with one another. Their placemaking activities reflected a variety of
interests, intentions, and interpretations, some of which complemented one another, and
some that seem to be in contradiction. For example, by announcing the presentation of offerings from the Bangladeshi and Vietnamese visitors, and welcoming the Burmese,
Chinese, and American Buddhists who attended the event, the head monk publicly acknowledged and celebrated the multi-ethnic nature of the Vihara’s congregation. The fact
that non-Sinhalese participants were encouraged to make their own unique contributions to
the ceremony reflected a non-sectarian approach to Buddhist ritual publicly advocated at the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 78
Vihara, and conveyed value in diversity. Similarly, participation by monks from a variety of temples both near and far reflected the extensive and multifaceted impact of Buddhism
on North America. Vietnamese monks from a temple around the comer, Burmese monks from Maryland, and Sinhalese monks from as far away as Toronto all participated in the day’s activities. Together these monks represented a network of Buddhist temples which
shared common interests and concerns, despite differences in language, ethnicity, location,
practice, and in some cases, even doctrine. Through their participation in this event, both
monks and laity conveyed an interest in maintaining multicultural and ecumenical ties within the Buddhist community. At the same time though, by introducing groups of non-
Sinhalese Buddhists as “visitors” and “guests,” Bhante D had implied that the Vihara belonged to the Sinhalese community who was serving as their host. Shifting interests in Buddhist practice were also communicated through
participants’ placemaking activities on this day. As on similar occasions when large
groups gathered at the Vihara, meditation played a minor role in the day’s activities.
Sermons were delivered, but chanting and puja clearly dominated the ritual practices
performed. The “Puja to the Twenty-eight Buddhas” ceremony reflected the influence of Mahayana ideas on Theravada Buddhism. Mahayana influences have been felt in Sri
Lanka off and on for centuries, but in the United States, where Mahayana forms of
Buddhism (e.g., Zen) dominate, this influence is perhaps even more strongly felt. Traditionally, Theravada Buddhism recognizes only one Buddha, the historical figure
Sidhartha Gotama. In this ceremony, the twenty-eight Buddha statues were said to
represent past incarnations of Sidhartha Gotama, reflecting the number of his past lives recorded in the Jataka stories (ancient tales about the Buddha’s life). Mahayana Buddhism
differs from Theravada in that its practitioners view the Buddha as representing absolute
reality, and therefore manifest in not one, but multiple forms (Dumoulin 1976: 158-160).
This idea is represented in many Mahayana temples by displaying hundreds of identical,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 79
smaller Buddha figures, rather than, or in addition to, a single large statue. The effect of worshipping multiple Buddha statues at the Vihara may have been to reduce tensions between Theravada beliefs and practices, and those associated with more popular forms of
Mahayana Buddhism. Participants’ placemaking activities might also be interpreted in terms of shifting relations and social structures within American Buddhism. Space limitations made it
necessary to seat some monks on the floor of the shrine room with the laity, rather than
raised above them on the shrine. This seating arrangement could be read as diminishing
the social distance between monks and laity, thereby de-emphasizing a traditionally hierarchical relationship within Buddhism. In North America, both converts and
immigrants have generally adopted more democratic models within their Buddhist organizations than exists in Asia (Queen 1999). Many groups have created new ministerial
roles for lay people, and some have even eliminated the role of monks altogether. As a
result, the distinction between monastics and laity has become increasingly blurred.
During this ceremony at the Vihara though, the distinction between monks and laity was
reinforced by the use of white fabric to distinguish the monks’ cushions from the rest.
While the distinction between monks and laity was therefore maintained, the wrapping of
the Buddha statue seemed to diminish the sense of distance between the Buddha and the
Sangha. By wrapping the large white statue in a robe identical to those worn by Theravada monks, the Vietnamese monks effectively reduced the visual contrast between themselves
and the Buddha ideal, suggesting a closer identification with this ideal than the pure white
statue had allowed. It is possible to interpret other meanings in participants’ placemaking activities on
this occasion. For instance, one might read in these activities an ongoing process of globalization in Buddhism, or more specifically, a process of religious remittance between
Sinhalese Buddhists in the United States and in Sri Lanka. The fact that this particular
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 80
ceremony, which had recently become popular in Sri Lanka, was performed here in the United States indicates the degree to which trends in religious practice are criss-crossing the
world. The placement of thebodhi tree directly in front of the Buddha statue may reflect the growing importance ofbodhi worship at sites in South Asia, particularly the site of Sri Lanka’s originalbodhi tree at Anuradhapura. This exchange of ideas and practices is
facilitated by continued waves of immigration which bring new cohorts of Sinhalese
immigrants to the Vihara and by the emergence of transnationals who make their home on two continents. It is also facilitated by new communications technology, which allows permanent immigrants to remain in contact with friends and relatives back home, and
improved transportation which allows monks in particular to come in contact with new
trends as they travel widely and frequendy.
The global marketplace for religious ideas and practices also contributes to the popularity of certain ceremonies. The monk who conducted this ceremony, for instance,
has gained prestige and fame among Buddhists in Sri Lanka and Europe by specializing in the performance of this niche service. American consumers meanwhile seek out new and
exotic spiritual ideas and performances just as they do other cultural products and symbols
from around the world. At the same time, the role of the Sri Lankan state in promoting
Buddhist practice in North America cannot be ignored. The participation of the Sri Lankan ambassador to the United States in this ceremony, and in others at the Vihara, conveyed
implicit support and approval for the Vihara as a Sri Lankan institution, and therefore an
instrument of the Sinhalese Buddhist majority in Sri Lanka. The gift of a relic by members
of a Sinhalese lay Buddhist society is a reminder, though, that the Vihara remains a
sectarian institution to the extent that it continues to be affiliated with the Ven. Madihe Pannasiha Mahanayaka Thero and is controlled, in part, through the ecclesiastical structure he heads.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 81
Certainly many participants at the Vihara would have read these placemaking activities in terms of their own spiritual development. The ceremony was described as
“powerfully healing” and capable of relieving bad luck while bringing good fortune in the future. Even though I had been unable to understand parts of the ceremony, which was
conducted entirely in Sinhala and Pali, a Sinhalese lay person assured me that we had been
very fortunate to witness this event and would gain much merit from our participation in it. The custom of allowing other participants to touch the offerings made at the Vihara conveys the belief that merit making is shared among participants, and in this sense,
spiritual development might be understood as a collective activity. By taking an active role in organizing the event or making an offering or financial contribution, some participants also gained personal, worldly benefits through their participation. Organizers were publicly
thanked during the event, and the names of offerees were announced as they entered the shrine room, providing them with recognition and perhaps even prestige among their colleagues and relatives.
Multiple Narratives As the examples above demonstrate, the appearance and use of the shrine room over time, and in specific contexts, reflected many shifting and multiply understood
meanings. Global events and ideologies, institutional networks, social collectives, personal preferences, and the physical characteristics of the Vihara itself, all constitute building
blocks for constructing unique sets of interpretations or ‘narratives’ about this place. One possible narrative depicts the Vihara as a cultural refuge; other narratives depict it as
essentially a social center, an educational institution, a marketplace for religious ideas, a
spiritual mission, or a sacred retreat. Together, these narratives constitute a discursive field,
or range of possible meanings, which have symbolic and rhetorical efficacy for participants at the Vihara (Duncan 1990).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 82
My research indicates that participants at the Vihara make use of alternative narratives to explain and understand their own and others’ placemaking activities. Contrary to expectations based on the notion of an ethnic, immigrant Buddhism distinct horn
American convert Buddhism, not all Sinhalese participants understood the Vihara as
primarily a cultural refuge. In fact many participants, regardless of their ethnicity,
employed this and other narratives in their placemaking activities. Participants also referred to such narratives when interpreting others’ definitions and uses of the Vihara. For
instance, the Vihara was sometimes depicted as a familiar, comfortable, and secure place for others to express and develop a particular cultural identity, while it was simultaneously
depicted as exotic, foreign, and new—a place to experience a culture different from one’s own. In both cases, participants described the Vihara as essentially a cultural place, rather
than an educational institution, social center, sacred retreat, mission, or marketplace. I found that each of the narratives used by participants contained some degree of ambiguity,
so that shared interpretations could nevertheless be used to express different things. The following description of the Vihara as a cultural refuge will help to illustrate this argument.
Ambiguity of the Vihara as a Cultural Refuge
Research has shown that mono-ethnic, minority churches provide a place where cultural identity can be affirmed, maintained, and passed down to future generations (e.g..
Chandler 1998, Narayan 1992, Van Esterik 1992). By offering traditional services and teaching shared values in the native language, ethnic churches function as an integrative force within new immigrant communities. At the same time, an ethnic church provides a safe, familiar context for working through problems faced by new immigrants as they interact with the larger society. Ethnic churches provide a social network for support, and
shared beliefs provide a cultural foundation for dealing with new challenges.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 83
However, in the increasingly pluralist religious environment of the United States, attachment to one’s native religion cannot be taken for granted even among newly arriving immigrants. Similarly, the role of religious places as cultural refuges for immigrants
cannot be assumed. Immigrants necessarily face problems that require the reinterpretation
of beliefs and practices, so no religion is transplanted wholesale, and no ethnic church
reproduces previous cultural contexts in isolation or in constancy. Researchers suggest that
over time immigrant churches face challenges as members of the ethnic community become increasingly acculturated, language preferences and competencies shift, and new
generations leave the church or request new religious programming (e.g., Williams 1996,
Mullins 1988, Tanaka 1999). Some have argued that in order to sustain themselves, ethnic churches cannot simply remain cultural refuges, but must continually adapt to the changing needs of their congregation, which may include, in addition to the first wave of
immigrants, more Americanized second generations, later cohorts of immigrants, and even
members of other ethnic groups. Mullins (1988), for instance, argues that successful
churches have gradually shed their ethnic particularities and adopted characteristics of the
dominant culture, including the use of English in religious services and the development of programs like Sunday school classes for children. However, this argument assumes that
ethnicity represents a static set of features to be maintained and preserved or else lost to
assimilation, rather than a dynamic, responsive, and creative aspect of one’s identity. A cultural refuge need not be isolated, exclusive, conservative or even constant, but may
simply be a site which feels safe and open for the expression of one’s cultural identity. In spite of their dynamic nature, churches dominated by a single ethnic group can
often seem quite foreign to members of other ethnic groups, and can ultimately hinder
immigrants’ integration into the larger community. Non-English-speaking Catholics, for
instance, may remain isolated and excluded from the larger society as long as the Church
continues a policy of creating new parishes specifically for immigrants, rather than
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 84
integrating them into existing English-speaking congregations (Williams 1996). Seventh- Day Adventists have historically maintained separate organizational structures for its
African American and Caucasian American members. Now, the Adventist Church is
struggling to attract new Caucasian and African American members, in part because
potential converts within these groups feel uncomfortable among congregations dominated by immigrants from the West Indies, Central America, and Haiti, groups targeted by the church’s missionary activities in recent decades (Lawson 1998). What some consider a
refuge then, may in fact be an exile, and what some consider safe and familiar may feel constraining or even alienating to others. At the Vihara, participants from all ethnic groups reported feeling very much “at home’’ here. For many though, the proportion of Sinhalese to non-Sinhalese in attendance at any given moment played an important role in whether this place felt like a familiar
cultural refuge or a foreign, alienating, or inaccessible place. For example, a non-Asian American woman who regularly attended meditation sessions andsutta classes felt much
less comfortable participating in devotional services and ceremonies attended by a large proportion of Asian participants. When I showed her photographs I had taken during an event attended by a large number of Sinhalese participants, she commented on the fact that
I had not only felt comfortable participating in the event, but that I was not afraid to move through the crowd and take photographs. “I would have felt like an intruder,” she
explained. On another occasion, it was Sinhalese participants who seemed uncomfortable at the Vihara. As members of the Washington Mindfulness Community arrived one
evening for their weekly meditation sessions, I found one of the Vihara’s resident monks and a Sinhalese board member standing close together at the bottom of the stairs. The
group from the Washington Mindfulness Community, which typically numbers around
forty people, consists almost entirely of white Americans. In their presence, the Sinhalese
monk and lay person appeared to be overwhelmed. With their backs pressed against the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 85
wall, one of them asked me, “You do this too?” When I responded positively, they
laughed uncomfortably before hurrying upstairs where they retreated into a private office.
What normally felt like a safe, familiar refuge for them had been transformed into an
alienating place by the presence of so many members of this ‘other’ group. Language and food provided further examples of how the Vihara was interpreted as culturally familiar or foreign. Most speakers use English at the Vihara, because it is the
common language shared by most American converts and Asian immigrants who visit the Vihara. On one occasion though, a sermon was delivered entirely in Sinhala. Apologizing to the non-Sinhala-speakers in the audience, the monk explained that he was doing so
because “we’re missing our language very much. Sinhala is a very beautiful language to
teach the Dhamma.” The Vihara is one place where Sinhala-speakers outside of Sri Lanka
can enjoy the familiar sounds of their native tongue, and on certain occasions this function of the Vihara is emphasized over others.
Similarly, food can render the Vihara a familiar or a foreign place. On holy days, participants prepare a special meal for the monks, and afterwards the entire congregation is
invited to share in the feast. Typically, the meal is prepared by Sinhalese lay people who make favorite dishes from their Sri Lankan homeland. Sinhalese visitors look forward to
these occasions when they can enjoy the familiar tastes and smells of spicy curries, fried vegetarian ‘cutlets,’ and fiery hotpol sambal made from red pepper and grated coconut.
Even references to food in conversations at the Vihara may render this a familiar or foreign
place. During asutta class, an American convert inquired about a kind of food mentioned several times in a reading about the Buddha’s life. The group’s leader explained that the
reference was to a sort of gruel made with milk, rice and ghee. This sounded “awful” to
the first student, but a Sinhalese student in the class fondly recalled that this had been a
favorite dish from her childhood in Sri Lanka.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 86
Whether or not one grew up with Sinhalese food is not the only factor in
determining the sense of familiarity or foreignness conveyed by food and food references
at the Vihara. On one occasion, the monks lamented that the dishes brought for dana by Sinhalese participants were just not the same as the food they enjoyed in Sri Lanka,
because lay people here were not able to get the same fresh ingredients available in Sri
Lanka. In this case, seemingly familiar food was deemed somehow foreign. Furthermore,
while interpretations of the Vihara as foreign or familiar often reflect and convey
participants’ different experiences and interests, they might nevertheless support the same placemaking activities. For example, for some non-Sinhalese participants, the feasts provided an opportunity to try something new and different. The foreignness of the food
actually drew them to the Vihara, rather than alienating them from it. On the other hand,
Barry, a long-time participant from a non-Sinhalese background described the Sinhalese food as a favorite and familiar part of his participation at the Vihara. After attending these events for several years, the Sinhalese food had become “like home-cooking’’ for him.
Moreover, he said that he now associated these dishes with his sense of the “sacred.” For
him, the foreign had become familiar over time, and through his own spiritual practice, what was once primarily a cultural experience had been transformed and reinterpreted as
something sacred and spiritual. These examples point to the ambiguity inherent in defining the Vihara as a cultural refuge. What is familiar and what is foreign, what is safe and what
is alienating, is forever shifting and manifesting itself in new ways.
Narratives as Placemaking Strategies
Participants shared a range of interpretations which describe what the Vihara is and
influence what it can be. While they rarely expressed a single narrative exclusively, at
times their interpretations emphasized one narrative over others. Yet, since these narratives
are fluid and ambiguous, participants could share an understanding of the narrative being
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 87
employed, without necessarily agreeing upon the interpretation itself, or the kinds of activity it would support and justify. Moreover, participants could appeal to one of several narratives to justify their placemaking choices, while using the same narrative to challenge
or influence others’ actions and decisions.
James Duncan (1990) has argued that people use places not only to say something,
but also to do something. In his ‘reading’ of the 19th century Kandyan kingdom (located
in the central highlands of Sri Lanka), he showed that two narratives dominated the
discourse about the Kandyan king. On the one hand, the king was viewed as divinely ordained and possessing the status and qualities of a semi-deity, as in the tradition of the
god-king, Sakra. On the other hand, the king was expected to be a compassionate,
generous and righteous ruler, based on the model of the Indian emperor, Asoka. In order
to secure his position on the throne, a Kandyan king built fine palaces which were interpreted as evidence of his divine ‘Sakran’ nature. The construction of bridges and
dams, on the other hand, demonstrated his compassion and were interpreted by his
subjects through the narrative of the righteous ruler. On certain occasions, Kandyans made
use of these narratives to effect changes in their society’s political structure. The demand
for more public works projects, for instance, functioned as a challenge to the king’s
legitimacy by emphasizing his duty as a righteous ruler over his privilege as a divine king. As this example demonstrates, placemaking narratives enable people to contest
certain values. In this sense, places constitute both a site of social struggle and a medium for negotiating social relationships. Places are defined through placemaking narratives, but they also provide the building blocks for new narratives. New meanings are continuously
built upon and through existing meanings. At the Vihara for instance, participants
continually place new demands on the Vihara: newcomers require special services, established immigrants request adaptations to traditional practices, Sinhalese participants
negotiate alliances with other Asians, and non-Asian converts introduce ideas from their
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 88
non-Buddhist backgrounds. In the process, the shape and content of the Vihara’s discursive field is shifting—expanding or contracting depending on the degree to which participants’ experiences and expectations overlap and intersect at any given time.
Similarly, elements of the discursive field will, over time, increase or diminish in
relative importance, and entirely new, sometimes competing, narratives may be introduced.
In Duncan’s (1990) example of the Kandyan kingdom, for instance, he describes how the
British brought a powerful new narrative into the discursive field surrounding the king’s
right to rule. After consolidating control over the coastal areas of Sri Lanka by 1796, the British began to fuel land-based disputes between the king and the Kandyan nobles
sparking unrest within the kingdom. In 1803, the Kandyans successfully defeated a British
invasion of the kingdom, but in response to this incursion (which introduced the narrative
of potential colonial rule), the king began a massive Sakran building program as “an allegorical portrait of his power” and probably a magical device to reinforce it (Duncan 1990: 1S7). In doing so though, he alienated the peasants and further angered the nobles
who allowed the kingdom to pass into British hands. The Kandyan kingdom was ruled
under a colonial narrative of power until Sri Lanka declared independence in 1947.
Participants interpreted the Vihara in multiple ways in order to say something about their own experience and perspective in a given situation. They also endowed the Vihara
with meaning in order to do something—to maintain the status quo, to meet some need, to
effect some change, or to introduce some new element into the discussion about what the
Vihara is. My research indicates that participants shared an understanding and recognition
of certain narratives. They recognized the Vihara as a cultural refuge, an educational institution, a social center, a marketplace for ideas, a mission and a spiritual retreat, if not for themselves, then at least for some other participants. However, they chose to
emphasize certain narratives over others for a variety of reasons, in particular contexts, and depending on a number of factors.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 89
As my description earlier in this chapter of the changing shrine room illustrates, the
Vihara is constantly being made and remade through changes to the physical environment, and through participants’ responses to these changes. In addition to the ways changes are
understood and the ways they affect participation, it is also important to consider who
initiates these changes, how they are carried out, and how they are interpreted by the
diverse array of participants described in Chapter Two, who bring different experiences and
expectations to this place. How is it that seemingly contradictory interpretations can
nevertheless find expression through the same types of placemaking activities? How is it
that a single interpretation results in different placemaking choices? And importantly, how do certain narratives gain favor and expression among participants at a given time, while
others are challenged or ignored? In the next chapter I examine how placemaking is
contested and controlled at the Vihara, and how participants used placemaking narratives to negotiate relationships among themselves.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER FOUR NEGOTIATING RELATIONS AT THE VIHARA
Contest and Control
My exploratory research at the Vihara alerted me to the considerable diversity that exists among its participants. Like others, I had noticed that the mostly white converts participated in activities and held perspectives that differed, generally, from those of Asian
immigrants. A long-time observer of the Vihara suggested that this had always been its central problem: the Vihara has always struggled to serve two separate communities.
Numrich’s (1996) analysis of two Theravada temples in the United States, in which he
observed that immigrants and converts formed “parallel congregations,” helped to clarify
the phenomenon I was observing at the Vihara. Complicating this explanation though, was the fact that each Congregation’ was internally heterogeneous, and rarely as exclusive or
isolated as the notion of parallelism suggests. The seemingly logical explanation that differences in practice reflected historically constituted differences between two inherently
separate groups nevertheless concealed much of what was going on at the Vihara. The
events surrounding the Vihara’s Annual General Meeting in 1997 made it clear that, in their placemaking activities, participants were not simply reflecting existing or inherent
differences. Participants made strategic use of difference to exert influence and control over placemaking processes.
The Annual General Meeting began as usual in the shrine room with the announcement of the new Board of Directors, followed by a review of the year’s events by
the Executive Secretary and a presentation of the Vihara’s finances by the Treasurer.
90
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 91
Approximately fifty participants attend these annual meetings, usually held in January. Invitations and “proxy ballots” are sent out to members prior to the event, although no actual voting takes place among the general membership. The board is selected by the head
monk and his close advisors. During the meeting, the laity normally express their approval
of the new board and acceptance of the financial report through silent agreement. On this occasion though, a small group of Sinhalese lay people, together with a few non-Asian
Americans, voiced their disapproval. Calmly, but insistently, one white American woman requested an explanation of the categories used in the Treasurer’s report. Others joined in, asking for details regarding certain figures. As they confronted the leadership about specific expenses, they challenged its unilateral control over the Vihara’s finances.
The protests of this group were soon squelched by a Sinhalese lay man who was
clearly offended by their requests. The Vihara was not a “business,” he insisted, and donations, unlike investments, were not subject to lay people’s scrutiny. This was simply “not the way things are done” at temples in Sri Lanka. Another Sinhalese lay man, who
had yet to take a side in the dispute, commented just under his breath, “This is not Sri Lanka.” The Treasurer, who remained standing behind the podium, suggested that any
concerns regarding the financial report might best be addressed in the context of a smaller
group meeting. He proposed that rather than delay these proceedings, a second meeting follow immediately upstairs in the library. With this, the General Meeting was adjourned
and participants were invited to the kitchen for a cup of tea.
This incident illustrates that the meaning of the Vihara—what it is and how it
should function—is a matter of disagreement and contestation among participants. More importantly, it shows that participants’ views on the Vihara are unpredictable simply based
on their ethnicity, and that the shared experience of immigration can nevertheless lead to opposing interpretations of a place. The protesters in this dispute represented an ethnically
diverse group of participants, as did the leadership’s supporters. Through their definition
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 92
of the Vihara (e.g., as a place to invest or to make donations), these participants not only
expressed different values, they directly challenged one another’s views and opinions. Placemaking strategies can be understood as the ways participants choose to define
and use a place, given their multiple interests, shifting circumstances, and range of options.
The Sinhalese man who remarked that the Vihara was “not a business” was in fact challenging the protesters’ implication that contributions to the Vihara should be treated as
investments and therefore subject to the contributors’ review. For him, questioning the
board’s handling of finances was tantamount to questioning the morality of the monks themselves (who served on the board and selected its members), and that was clearly
beyond the bounds of appropriate lay behavior. Contributions to the Vihara were
donations, he insisted, not investments. To justify this position, he noted that this was simply “not the way things are done” in Sri Lanka, implying that the Vihara ought to be
run in the manner of a traditional Sinhalese temple. Others disagreed, pointing out that the Vihara is in Washington, D.C., not in Sri Lanka, and arguing that the model of the traditional temple cannot be applied here without considerable adaptation. Drawing upon
models of other religious institutions in North America where the laity play a greater role in managing the institution’s financial affairs, the protesters called for a more democratic distribution of power and a more transparent accounting of funds.
Ultimately, this discussion was diffused not by compromise or consent, but by
moving the dispute to another location within the Vihara. I joined approximately twenty
participants as they regrouped in the library after the General Meeting to continue the
discussion in a polite but tense atmosphere. Unlike the shrine room, the library is seldom used for religious practices, and it is noteworthy that participants employed different
placemaking strategies here. No references were made to the appropriateness of the protesters’ requests, or the contested nature of the Vihara as a “business.” Instead the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 93
debate shifted to a discussion about the relative weight of lay people’s interests in relation to the Vihara’s leadership, and in relation to the Sangha more generally.
At first, the protesters resumed their call for an audit of the Vihara’s finances, suggesting that certain funds had not been properly accounted for. They expressed
frustration over what they considered unnecessary expenses on the part of the monks and slow progress by the leadership on projects to which funds had already been directed.
Then they began to argue that the contributions of a particularly generous American
convert, the woman who had begun the protest, should be recognized publicly by
appointing her to the board of directors. In response, the head monk cautioned everyone
against seeking personal, worldly gains from their involvement with the Vihara. The board of directors would look into any “inconsistencies” regarding finances, he explained. Then
he concluded the discussion by reminding the laity that the selection of board members was best handled by the monks, who, he pointed out, “know best what the Vihara needs.” Since this confrontation, the Vihara’s leadership has used this same strategy several
times to avoid further conflict. In one incident, the monk presiding over activities preceded the announcement of a policy decision with a reminder to the laity that both “tradition” and
“practicality” demanded that such decisions be made by the monks alone. The lay people
who challenged the leadership during the 1997 General Meeting were not without further
recourse though. Following this incident, several of them withdrew their participation and, more importantly, their financial support from the Vihara. The following year, the Vihara
did indeed complete an independent financial audit, which the Treasurer explained was necessary “to satisfy the general membership.” It would also provide a good basis, he
explained, for starting a new fund-raising campaign to complete on-going projects.
Rumors of corruption circulated throughout the following year though, and by 1999, some
changes were made to the board of directors.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 94
At least three factors influenced the effectiveness of participants’ placemaking
strategies in the context of this dispute. These factors also help to clarify why it is that
certain narratives about the Vihara seem to be especially dominant and persistent. The first
factor is the degree to which participants recognized and shared the values and concerns
expressed through different placemaking narratives as a result of their personal backgrounds and interests. The narratives employed in this dispute (e.g.. the idea that the
Vihara is or is not a ’business’) varied in the degree to which they resonated among the
participants present at the meeting, resulting in different levels of support. A second factor involves the relations of power that exist among participants in a given context. Relations
of power, in this sense, refers to the shifting inequalities among participants based on their
social and financial status, political position, and cultural role, as well as their individual capabilities and characteristics. The same narrative employed by the head monk, a young
female immigrant, and a wealthy American convert will likely have different effects. The
third factor, which I will discuss in greater detail later in this chapter, involves the larger
relations of power which are constituted, in part, through global cultural processes. Globally constituted orientations such as ethnicity and religious identity influence
participants at the Vihara by enabling and constraining their placemaking activities.
Narrative Resonance
In the dispute described above, a mixed group of Sinhalese and American lay
people were able to challenge the Vihara’s leadership by questioning its definition and use of the Vihara. Demands for a full accounting of funds were framed in terms of the
group’s concern for the viability and reputation of the temple and hopes for the success of
its expansion project. Similarly, strategies for acquiring input into leadership decisions
took the form of a request that the meritorious service of a particular lay person be acknowledged through her appointment to the board. In doing so, the protesters appealed
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 95
to the value of an open, transparent administration and democratic leadership, consistent
with a model of an “American” (especially Protestant) religious institution. The Sinhalese man who interrupted the protesters argued in support of the Vihara’s
leadership on the basis of an alternative narrative: he pointed to the traditional Sri Lankan temple as a model for the Vihara, with its customary respect for monastic authority and
religious hierarchy. There were inherent problems with this narrative though. First, the
location of the Vihara in the United States made the relevance of this narrative somewhat
questionable, and second, the narrative raised problematic connotations and concerns. In Sri Lanka, monks have historically maintained autonomous control of their temples and
there has been little centralization of power. In the past, theSangha as a whole has
undergone periodic “purifications” (usually initiated by the king) to address recurrent
problems of spiritual laxity and corruption (Malalgoda 1976). In the post-independence
era, monastic reform continued to be a theme among neo-traditional politicians, who suggested that the problems facing Sri Lanka were due in part to the monks’ failure to uphold basic Buddhist principles. Ecclesiastical leaders have largely resisted attempts by
lay people to impose any meaningful reforms Sangha,on the and issues of corruption,
spiritual laxity, and monks’ personal ambitions remain problematic (Bond 1988). In the context of the dispute at the Vihara, it was clear that the protesters were implicitly holding
up themes of democracy and transparency against themes of autocracy and corruption, problems linked to traditional models of temple authority.
In the context of the United States, themes of reform and purification, authority and
tradition, articulate with Americans’ expectations of representational leadership and
institutional accountability. Warner points out that there has been a tendency among religious organizations in the United States to adopt a congregational model of leadership in
which the organization is “controlled by its laity and administered by professional clergy”
(1998b: 21). The dispute during the General Meeting highlighted unresolved problems
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 96
inherent in the Vihara’s current organizational structure, and demonstrates the increased
pressure to adopt a more “American,” democratic model of leadership. The narrative proposed by the protesters drew upon values which resonate strongly among both Sinhalese and Americans, but it has so far failed to result in significant changes, in part because of other narratives that are at work.
The third narrative introduced into the debate shifted the discussion away from
questions of authority and representation toward issues of motive and intent. By suggesting that some lay participants might seek to protect or extend personal benefits
through the Vihara, the head monk effectively challenged the values underlying the protesters’ strategy by redefining the meaning and use of the Vihara. Those who had
requested a place on the board for the generous American lay person, and perhaps the
generous donor herself, he suggested, were using the Vihara for personal gain and recognition. This narrative of the Vihara, as a place where one might seek and fulfill worldly interests, seemed to hold considerable power and influence over those participating
in the meeting. The protesters’ requests were allowed to be dropped as tensions deepened
and the motives of everyone involved in the dispute became highly suspect. While this
narrative did not exclude the possibility that the monks themselves were using the temple
for personal gain, it allowed the leadership to maintain the status quo and to control key placemaking decisions.
Power Relations In addition to the degree of narrative resonance, power relations also played an
important role in the outcome of this dispute. The head monk, for example, relied on his position as head monk and President of the Vihara Society, as well as his personal
charisma and his connection to ecclesiastical structures within Sri Lanka, to exert control
over placemaking processes at the Vihara. The lay people protesting this control exerted
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 97
power mainly through other avenues, including their financial support and informal tools
of resistance such as gossip. The influence of power relations on placemaking activities was apparent during the General Meeting, but it was also an important factor shaping the long-term effects of the dispute.
Power is often a product of one’s status in a culture, and in Sri Lanka, monks have
held positions of social and cultural power, and in some cases achieved economic and
political status as temple abbots. Despite the early tradition of mendicancy among Buddhist monks, kings who wished to attain merit often gave gifts of land to theSangha, and extended privileges to monks through land grants in exchange for public support.
Although this system of rajakariya was abolished by the British colonial government,
major temples in Sri Lanka continue to be passed down to students through specific rules
of descent. This has allowed some abbots to consolidate considerable financial and political power over time, as well as social prestige. Less well-connected monks have been forced to establish their own temples, or develop new means of supporting themselves through teaching and social work.
As the Vihara’s head monk, Bhante D is appointed by the founding patron and head of the Bhikkhu Training Center, Ven. Pannasiha, one of seven prominent monks appointed by the lay Buddhist Congress in Sri Lanka in the 1950s to lead a “Buddhist
Committee of Enquiry.” This highly influential pro-Sinhalese committee studied the
impact of colonialism on Buddhism in Sri Lanka, and set out a program of neo-traditional
reforms designed to revive Buddhism and restore its rightful place on the island. Ven. Pannasiha later became the head of the Amarapura Nikaya, one of the largest monastic
sects in Sri Lanka, and he continues to propagate a neo-traditional interpretation of
Theravada Buddhism through his role as a public figure20 in Sri Lanka and through the
20 Tambiah describes Ven. Pafinasiha as “an important public figure” in Sri Lanka. While he does not identify with any political party, and does not advocate monks’ active involvement in politics, be does express pro-Sinhalese views and sees a role for monks as political advisors. “Though
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 98
missionary activities of the Bhikkhu Training Center. Bhante D is one of Ven. Pannasiha’s
highest-ranking students.
When asked about the relation between the Vihara and the Bhikkhu Training Center, some long-time participants insisted that decisions about the Vihara were actually made by the leadership at the Bhikkhu Training Center and simply carried out here through
the head monk and his advisors. There is evidence that Ven. Pannasiha exerts considerable control over placemaking activities at the Vihara, even if day-to-day decisions are not made by him directly. For example, a resident monk who had trained at the Bhikkhu Training
Center once advised the lay editor of the Vihara’s newsletter against printing an article
about the controversial ordination of Theravada nuns which occurred in India in 1998.
Ven. Pannasiha and other high-ranking members of the Sangha in Sri Lanka had publicly
renounced the ordination on the grounds that the nuns’ lineage, which had died out in the
tenth century, could not be legitimately re-instituted. Because of Ven. Pannasiha’s position, the monk felt it would be inappropriate for the Vihara to publicize the event,
regardless of whether or not members of the Vihara supported the reinstitution of the
lineage. Bhante D’s power as head monk of the Vihara is based in part on his status as a top student and personal appointee of Ven. Pannasiha. Yet as long as the Vihara remains tied to the Bhikkhu Training Center, and responsive to its patron’s wishes, the power of its local leaders will necessarily be limited.
Besides the power that Bhante D wields as the head of the Vihara and
representative of Ven. Pannasiha, he has achieved considerable influence through his own
personal qualities and accomplishments. Throughout Buddhism’s history, individual monks have attracted the support and admiration of lay people by becoming educated
scholars, insightful teachers, compassionate servants, charismatic leaders, and spiritual
not an acclaimed scholar, he has been active on government committees advising on matters concerning the relationship between monks, the laity, and the state” (1992: 104).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 99
adepts. Bhante D is well liked and respected by most participants at the Vihara, and though
some have questioned his motives, he is generally regarded as a dedicated follower and promoter of Buddhism. His specific ability has been to attract to the Vihara a diverse group of participants, representing many nationalities, through his warm and witty manner.
Some described Bhante D as a “religious entrepreneur,” referring to his success in
maintaining this relatively prosperous and growing Buddhist institution. Although the Vihara lost a few generous supporters following the dispute described above, Bhante D’s
charismatic personality has helped to ensure a steady flow of new participants and supporters to the Vihara.
Bhante D also exerted power through his cultural role as a Buddhist monk and
member of the clergy. In their traditional roles as teachers and religious and community leaders, monks generally enjoyed high levels of respect in Sri Lanka, a country which even today protects Buddhism constitutionally. Beginning in the late 1800s, however, as part of a ‘modem’ Buddhist revival, lay Buddhists began to take a more active part in religion and
became increasingly self-sufficient in both religious and educational affairs. Monks, on the
other hand, have become more involved in social and political affairs, taking especially
active roles in the years following Ceylon’s independence and again in the 1980s as the conflict between Sinhalese and Tamils began to escalate (Tambiah 1992, Amunugama 1991). Economic troubles and political instability in recent decades (as a result of the civil
war) have forced many monks into more secular roles, and these trends have had rather
damaging effects on the status of the Sangha as a whole. Since the 1940s, progressive monks have called for a revised set of monastic rules consistent with the contemporary needs of Buddhist society, while other monks have called for a return to traditional
practices and strict discipline; both positions represent attempts to regain the cultural power
and prestige of theSangha in Sri Lanka and elsewhere (Seneviratne 1993).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 100
Despite a general loss of prestige, theSangha continues to wield considerable influence among the Buddhist majority in Sri Lanka. The situation is similar in Thailand
and other Theravada countries. In North America though, Buddhists represent a small
religious minority, and monastic institutions are relatively weak. American Buddhist organizations are typically less hierarchical than in Asia, and the laity here play a more central role in religious affairs (Fields 1998, Morreale 1988). Within the Theravada
tradition, American Buddhists have developed an intermediary positionbodhicari, of or "ordained’ lay minister, who vows to uphold many of the same rules as monks with the exception of celibacy. In addition to creating new intermediary roles, Americans have
established Buddhist organizations run entirely by lay people, eliminating the role of monastics altogether. In the absence of historically constructed status and prestige, not to mention a clear social role, monks in North America tend to earn respect and power
through other means, including their personal charisma, their position within a monastic lineage based in Asia, or their reputation as an effective teacher or role model. The monks at the Vihara frequently reminded the laity, as they did in the 1997 dispute, that it was “tradition” which required them to submit to the monks’ authority
regarding placemaking decisions at the Vihara. ‘Tradition” in this sense refers to the historic custom of giving respect to monks because of their cultural role as religious and
educational specialists in Sri Lanka, and as the heirs to the Buddha’s Dhamma. No such “tradition” exists for monks in North America. Other religious leaders have enjoyed
certain privileges here by virtue of their cultural role as members of the clergy. By participating in inter-religious dialogues and serving as Buddhist chaplains on college
campuses, Buddhist monks may benefit from their role as members of America’s diverse, but generally well-respected, religious clergy.
In his effort to end the dispute raised during the General Meeting, Bhante D did not rely solely on participants’ respect for tradition, or his authority as a monk and member of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 101
the clergy; instead he exerted control by also appealing to a sense of “practicality.” It was
more “practical,” he suggested, for the laity to rely on the knowledge and experience of a
small number of decision-makers than to debate in a more public forum where personal agendas and inaccurate information might blur the issues. In other contexts, lay people
have criticized the dominance of an intimate group of decision-makers, which includes the
head monk and two lay leaders, describing them as “the power of three.” By appealing to
lay participants’ sense of ‘practicality,’ Bhante D effectively dismissed complaints about
this concentration of power, and retained control over certain placemaking activities, without having to rely solely on the less certain appeal of “tradition.” In effect, he declared,
and through his power as head monk, he can ensure that the Vihara does not function as a
truly democratic institution, or even as a representative democracy, despite the continued demands and expectations of some lay people. The protesters in the dispute described above also exerted power in their
placemaking activities, but their power derived from a different source than that of the head monk and lay leaders. Some of the protesters were longtime members of the Vihara;
some had been very active in fundraising activities and provided much voluntary support to
the Vihara. According to financial records for the years 1995, 1996, and 1997,74% of the Vihara’s income was received through donations and fundraising activities. Virtually all cleaning, maintenance, and administrative work that is not performed by the monks is
provided on a volunteer basis by lay participants. The financial and physical support of the
lay congregation is therefore critical to the existence of the Vihara, and essential to the
monks who reside there. The protesters wielded power mainly by threatening to withdraw this support. Several of the protesters did in fact stop coming to the Vihara and
discouraged others from offering their financial support. According to the Vihara’s
records, income from donations and fundraising declined in 1997, and by 1998, the year
following the dispute, it had decreased by 20% based on the previous three-year average.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 102
The protesters also exerted influence through a less measurable but nevertheless
effective means: the power of rumor and gossip. Within a year, rumors of fraud and financial corruption had become sufficiendy widespread so that the Treasurer conceded to a
full financial audit of the Vihara, as he said, in order “to satisfy the general membership.”
A few months earlier, one of the monks had confessed to me that many lay people were
still very upset about the concentration of power among a few long-standing board
members, and the less influential members of the board were refusing to participate in the board’s meetings. He speculated that the entire board of directors would be need to be overthrown in the next General Meeting in order to quell the dissent. As it turned out, ten
out of sixteen board members were reinstated in 1998 (compared with thirteen out of
fifteen the previous year), and three director positions were left unfilled. A few months later, the Treasurer resigned, marking a symbolic shift in the upper levels of leadership.
Rumor and gossip were not always effective means of exerting influence over participants’ placemaking practices though. After the generous American lay person who
had been denied a place on the board suddenly stopped participating at the Vihara, some
people speculated that she had been “forced out.” Some claimed that the woman had simply overstepped her boundaries as a lay person, but others suspected she had witnessed
some impropriety on the part of the monks. One Sinhalese participant, who was upset
over the woman’s sudden departure, nevertheless dismissed the impact of the accusations
on her own participation at the Vihara. It did not matter what the woman had found out,
she said, because “I come [to the Vihara] for the Buddha, not the monks.” Rumor and gossip may have even worked to the disadvantage of the protesters in the 1997 dispute.
Long-time participants had no difficulty identifying who “the troublemakers” were, and
many shied away from any involvement in the controversy because they wanted to avoid
such labels for themselves. Others indicated to me that they found the “back-biting”
among participants to be distasteful, unproductive, and antithetical to their Buddhist
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 103
practice. As one Sinhalese lay person explained: “You know, we’re Buddhists, and the
Buddha taught that we shouldn’t associate with fools.21 We should associate with the wise. If we associate with fools, they’ll just bring us down and cause our minds to be
disturbed. So why would people want to get involved?” The events following the dispute at the General Meeting revealed the uneven power
relations that exist among participants, and which constrain the sorts of changes
participants are able to effect through their placemaking activities. In addition to the relative resonance of particular narratives, uneven power relations influenced the outcome of all
placemaking activities at the Vihara. My research shows that placemaking provided a
forum for participants to exert power, while the placemaking process itself allowed for existing inequalities to be challenged and renegotiated. Participants used the Vihara to
negotiate their relationships with one another. In the case of this dispute, participants were contesting relations between the leadership of the Vihara and its general membership, between individual personalities, and between monks and laity more generally.
Relationships at the Vihara were constituted as well by larger cultural forces whose
influence transcended the physical setting of this place. These forces rendered some inequalities, such as those based on race and ethnicity, particularly persistent and non-
negotiable. Globally constituted relations of social, economic, and political inequality
represent the third factor influencing placemaking strategies at the Vihara. The remainder
of this chapter deals with the complex ways these global forces articulated with participants’ local placemaking activities to shape their expectations of one another,
21 The Pali term “balavagga" is often translated as “fool.” In the context of the Buddha's teaching, a “fool” is one who acts without mindfulness, commits unwholesome acts, is unaware of his own fetters and delusions, and therefore attracts misfortune. In contrast, a wise person(panditavagga) is mindful, acts with virtue and wholesomeness, develops insight, and is therefore a good companion. The following verses from The Dhammapada illustrate the lesson evoked here: “Though all his life a fool associate with a wise man, he no more comprehends theDhamma than a spoon tastes the flavour of soup. Though only for a moment a discerning person associate with a wise man, quickly he comprehends the Dhamma, just as the tongue tastes the flavour of soup” (Chapter 5, Verses 64-65).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 104
constrain their placemaking choices, and ultimately influence the outcome of their placemaking activities.
Expectations of Cultural Difference Early one summer evening, as Bhante K was preparing to teach the meditation
session, he asked me to help him set out the cushions for the group. Attendance had been
fluctuating so it was difficult to know how many to set out. Suddenly he tossed down a cushion and with an air of frustration said, “If you offer something for free, people don’t
think it’s worth it!” Then he shared an experience he had in Berlin: before he arrived there,
an older monk had been teaching a free meditation class which was attended only by two
elderly German women. When he was put in charge though, he determined a reasonable
price for the class and put an ad in a newspaper. He received so many calls, he had to limit the class size because there was not enough space to accommodate everyone! In Sri Lanka though, he complained, “If you charge money, no one comes. They ask, ’Did the Buddha charge money?’ But in the West, it’s different, no?”
Throughout my research I found that participants were particularly sensitive to, if not always fully aware of, the fact that they held different interests and understandings
about Buddhism and about the Vihara itself. Participants often posed questions, like the one above, in an attempt to clarify their understanding of one another’s motives and
perspectives. In this case, Bhante K had speculated that participants’ lack of commitment
to the meditation classes that summer was related to the fact that no monetary value had been placed on his teaching. Meditators might be more dedicated to their practice, he
suggested, if he charged money for the sessions. Given their cultural background as “Westerners,” he had assumed that American converts, who constituted the majority of
meditation students, would be open to the idea of teachers’ charging money for instruction
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 105
in the Dhamma. “In Sri Lanka,” on the other hand, people would likely oppose such an
action, on the grounds that it was unorthodox. Many of the expectations participants held of one another were based, as Bhante’s
was, on assumptions about cultural difference. Understandings of ‘culture’ and ‘cultural
difference’ tend to be highly spatialized, attributing difference to geographical factors, as well as historical and frequently (though less plausibly) biological factors. Researchers
have only recently begun to critically examine the ways common sense ideas about space have shaped our analytical concepts. Gupta and Ferguson observed, for instance, that “The
distinctiveness of societies, nations, and cultures is predicated on a seemingly
unproblematic division of space, on the fact that they occupy ‘naturally’ discontinuous
spaces. The premise of discontinuity forms the starting point from which to theorize contact, conflict, and contradiction between cultures and societies” (1997: 33-34). This
assumption that difference is based on natural, spatial discontinuity is evident in the language we use to discuss cultural difference. We typically use phrases like “American
society,” “Kandyan culture,” or “the traditions of South Asians” to explain people’s similarities and differences. Contemporary maps also reflect the assumption that the world is divided up into separate spaces, where different “cultures” are thought to reside within
discreet national and regional boundaries. In the example above, Bhante K alluded to the
notion that the cultural values of people in “Sri Lanka” differ, quite naturally and
unproblematically, from those “in the West.”
In reality, of course, cultural groups do not easily map onto geographic spaces. People regularly cross over boundaries and occupy borderlands. Not all “Sri Lankans” live in Sri Lanka, and not only “Americans” live in Washington, D.C. The existence of
immigrants, migrant workers, refugees, missionaries, and most recently, transnationals,
challenges the idea that people and culture are naturally and unproblematically linked to
places. A history of colonialism and global capitalism further suggests that cultural groups
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 106
have never been as isolated, homogenous, and bounded as common sense notions of “culture” might suggest (Wolf 1982). In the United States, we recognize “subcultures,”
and speak of “multiculturalism,” “acculturation,” and “culture conflict,” without stopping to question the presumed autonomy of any given cultural group, or the inequalities of
power that exist among them. As a result, when confronted with cultural differences on a
face-to-face level, we often attribute those differences to people’s presumed link to a
particular (and typically ‘other’) place. There are two important implications of this tendency to link people, place and
culture. First, because the concept of autonomous ‘cultures’ conceals the heterogeneity and
fluidity that exists within and among cultural groups, cultural differences often become
generalized into cultural stereotypes. For example, a non-Asian convert who practiced
regularly with the Washington Mindfulness Community once asked me about the practices
of the mostly Asian immigrant participants at the Vihara. “They dopuja and things, right?” she inquired, referring to the merit making ritual of offering gifts to the Buddha.
This question, like the monk’s above, reveals a cultural stereotype based in large part on the
assumption of geographic isolation and determinacy. Buddhists in Asia are assumed to be highly devotional and conservative in their practice, and Asian immigrants are expected to
bring these traits with them as they migrate. “In the West,” American converts are
expected to take a more progressive, intellectual, or meditative approach to Buddhism, regardless of how their particular tradition has been acquired or imported. Doingpuja, in
the sense that it implies devotionalism, is a practice stereotypicaily attributed to Asian Buddhists, regardless of where they currently live.
Certainly cultural differences do exist, and stereotypes generalize what are often in
fact real differences in practice or perspective. To explain these differences in terms of
people’s relationship to a neutral, underlying framework of discontinuous spaces, however, disguises the processes by which such differences are in fact continually recreated and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 107
reproduced. By generalizing the practices of Asian participants at the Vihara in her
question ‘They dopuja and things, right?” the convert described above was doing more than attempting to understand, even superficially, “their” practices. Her question came in
reply to my own inquiry into the practices of the Washington Mindfulness Community,
whose members are predominantly white Americans. She responded not by describing
the practices of the Washington Mindfulness Community, but by contrasting it with the
practice of Vihara participants. In doing so, she not only stereotyped their behavior, but simultaneously evoked a negative evaluation, held by many Western converts, of all non-
meditative practices. This negative evaluation, and its relationship to stereotypes about the
practices of American and Asian Buddhists, was conveyed in an essay written by Jack Komfield, a prominent American teacher, for a popular guide to Buddhist centers in America. He writes:
All of us [Americans]... want what was mostly the special dispensation of monks in Asia: the real practice of the Buddha. American lay people are not content to go and hear a sermon once a week or to make merit by leaving gifts at a meditation center. We too want to live the realizations of the Buddha and bring them into our hearts, our lives, and our times. This is why so many Americans have been drawn to the purity of intensive Vipassana retreats... (Komfield, in Morreale 1988: xxv).
In suggesting that “they do p u ja the ” Washington Mindfulness Community member had implicitly disparaged and excluded “them,” Asian Buddhists, from “us,”
non-Asian Americans, who practiced “real” Buddhism here at the Vihara. This suggests a second implication of the tendency to link people, culture and place. As Gupta and
Ferguson (1997) point out, our common sense notion of a ‘culture’ as inherently and
unproblematically linked to a ‘place’ naturalizes social relations which are in fact the result
of complex cultural processes. Our sense of cultural difference emerges not from our
inherent link to a place, but through the ongoing construction of places like “the West,” “Asia,” “America,” and “the Vihara.”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 108
To understand how relations of community and difference are constructed, Gupta and Ferguson (1997) recommend looking at how one’s sense of a place, and connection to
it, is constructed out of the existing topography of power
For if one begins with the premise that spaces havealways been hierarchically interconnected, instead of naturally disconnected, then cultural and social change becomes not a matter of cultural contact and articulation but one of rethinking difference through connection (Gupta and Ferguson 1997: 35). Three intersecting areas of research related to placemaking help to illuminate the processes by which relations of community and difference are constructed and negotiated
through existing hierarchical interconnections. Immigration studies, theories of ethnicity
and racialization, and research on the politics of identity construction all contribute to an
understanding of the ways global forces and social structures articulate with localized placemaking activities. It is through this process that participants at the Vihara negotiate, reproduce and contest relations of community and difference.
Immigrants and “Host Communities”
Social scientists have long been concerned with issues of immigration, focusing in particular on processes of assimilation and on tendencies toward cultural particularity among immigrant groups. Immigration studies have demonstrated that an important factor
influencing assimilation is the pre-existing relationship between an immigrant group and
the receiving “host community.” Upon arriving in the United States, immigrants are
categorized by the dominant host society and lumped together with a “proximal host”
made up of members of the existing society with whom they are assumed to share common characteristics. Historically, for instance, Jewish immigrants in the United States
were expected to form alliances with other Jewish groups, and were subjected to prejudice
by the non-Jewish majority, because of their racial and religious identity. For Eastern
European Jews, the assimilation process was made difficult by the fact that their proximal
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 109
hosts, German Jews who had immigrated earlier, discriminated against them on the basis of class, language, and nationality. Immigrants arriving in the United States in recent decades from the Caribbean are likewise expected to be absorbed into an existing “African American community” based on perceived racial similarities, even though they share few
other characteristics. Assignment to a proximal host on the basis of racial categories is especially
common and difficult for many immigrant groups to resist, but it is often not the only category available to newcomers as they negotiate their relationship with the host society. Warner ( 1998b) reminds us that in the United States and Canada, there is no single, homogenous “host community.” “Newcomers encounter a pluralistic social context rich
with types and categories to which they may be assigned” (Warner 1998b: 18). Proximal hosts may be assigned on the basis of ethnicity, language, religion, gender, class, caste, nationality or education level. A group’s proximal host may or may not be welcoming, and depending on the proximal host’s status, immigrants may choose to embrace or resist
inclusion. Elizabeth McAlister (1998) has shown, for instance, that Haitian immigrants in Brooklyn, New York actively resisted being lumped with other “blacks” in America
because of strong negative stereotyping against “blacks” in this country. By maintaining
their Creole language, rejecting popular “black” music and clothing styles, and incorporating Vodou practices from their homeland into their hybrid form of Christianity,
Haitian immigrants attempted to distance themselves from their proximal host.
Just as there is considerable diversity within the host society, there is diversity within immigrant groups. Immigrant groups often exhibit internal differences based on regional, linguistic, political, and religious backgrounds. Within some immigrant groups
there have been distinct waves of migration, pushed by political unrest and economic
decline in their homeland, or pulled by changes in immigration policy or labor relations.
Multiple generations and cohorts may identify with different proximal hosts depending on
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. no
their financial and educational status, their linguistic capabilities, and their different goals and interests. The relationship between an immigrant group and a host society is therefore neither predictable nor stable; however, the ways immigrants and host societies make use
of existing social categories to form alliances or to distance themselves from one another reveals much about the nature of globally constituted relations of power.
Negotiating Assigned Categories Recent advances in communication and transportation technology allow new immigrants to maintain stronger and more personal ties to their homeland than ever before,
and in this way perhaps better resist the most crude forms of negative stereotyping by
members of the host society. The Haitian immigrants in McAlister’s study, for instance, returned to Haiti frequently to participate in special religious ceremonies and thereby renew cultural and religious ties which distinguished them from other “blacks” in the United
States (McAlister 1998). Although immigrants have always maintained some communication with those remaining at home, new immigrants (those who have arrived in the past few decades) have greater opportunity for communication and travel, including the possibility of maintaining homes in two places. Even relatively permanent immigrants may find that it is now easier to maintain a sense of continuity and connection with one’s
home culture via new media and telecommunications technology. Still, because identity is
a social construction, newcomers necessarily and continuously reconstruct their identity within and through the context of the new culture’s social categories (Leonard 1997). In the face of pressures to adapt to new work conditions, and to succeed in new educational
and social settings, immigrants find that they must negotiate institutional barriers to equality within and through the social categories imposed upon them by the host society.
In research on early Asian immigration to America, Karen Leonard (1997) found
that Japanese pioneers maintained some aspects of their cultural identity by isolating
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. I l l
themselves from the host society, yet even these early immigrants necessarily negotiated
their identities within the larger context of American society. According to Leonard,
Japanese farmers who lived in southern California as early as the 1920s described an ethnic enclave of their own making in which language, religion, spatial and social customs were
retained, despite the group’s long and distant separation from their homeland. In Japanese- language memoirs and later interviews and recollections in English, these pioneers rarely
mentioned the white settlers whose land surrounded their own. Leonard argues that the
influence of the non-Asian host society was nevertheless a strong factor underlying the
immigrants’ sense of themselves. There was among these Japanese immigrants, she
found, “a consciousness of the larger ‘Asian’ category being used by the dominant
society” to describe and categorize them, and to some degree, an acceptance and appropriation of this category‘‘to contest subordination” (Leonard 1997: 123-124). The absence of a dominant ‘other’ in these recollections, Leonard insists, does not suggest the
absence of the dominant ‘other’ in identity construction, but rather the implicitness of the dominant ‘other’ in such constructions.
Asian immigrants at the Vihara rarely referred to their minority racial status in the context of America, but the presence of a dominant non-Asian majority clearly influenced
their sense of themselves as well as their placemaking choices. Many of the Asian
participants at the Vihara are in fact United States citizens, and yet they are typically
categorized (and often refer to themselves) as distinct from the larger category, “American
society,” on the basis of their race and status as immigrants. The absence of much explicit
reference to subordinating categories points not to the irrelevance of such categories in the lives of Asian immigrants at the Vihara, but rather to their pervasiveness.
Throughout my research I found that placemaking activities were both enabled and
constrained by the social categories to which participants were assigned. This point was
made clear on one occasion when the head monk announced to a crowd of mostly
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 112
Sinhalese Buddhists that the ceremony scheduled for that day would be ending early because of a wedding. Weddings are not traditionally celebrated as religious occasions in
Theravada Buddhism, but popular interest in Buddhist weddings worldwide has recently prompted the Vihara Society to obtain licenses for some of its resident monks to perform
marriage ceremonies. Even so, the Vihara hosts such events only very occasionally. In this case, the monk explained apologetically, the bride and groom were “American
Buddhists.” In fact, they were not even regular participants at the Vihara, but their status as
American-bom, white Buddhists allowed them to exert significant control over placemaking activities here, even to the extent of interrupting a previously scheduled religious ceremony. “They wanted to have it here,” the head monk explained, “and we can’t say no, because this is America and it’s their country, no?” In attempting to balance the demands of a diverse congregation, this monk felt it was important to concede to the
wishes of the bride and groom, who represented the dominant interests of a non-Asian
host society. Despite Asian immigrants’ large majority at the Vihara, the Vihara’s location in a country where they remain a relatively small minority limits their control over placemaking activities here.
Strategic Orientations
In response to the constraints imposed by their subordinate relation to the host society, researchers have shown that immigrants often attempt to emphasize those social
categories which offer the greatest opportunity for inclusion without requiring them to overcome or shed their differences. According to Williams, religious identity is
particularly useful in this regard. In the United States, he points out, “religion is the social
category with clearest meaning and acceptance in the host society, so the emphasis on
religious affiliation and identity is one of the strategies that allows the immigrant to
maintain self-identity while simultaneously acquiring community acceptance” (Williams
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 113
1988: 11). While increased religiosity may be understood as a way of resisting Americanization, Prema Kurien notes that it is an “acceptable” and “particularly
American” way of demonstrating one’s individualism and ethnicity (1998:62). In the case of Asian Buddhists, emphasis on religious identity may have a number
of strategic advantages. First, Buddhism is currently enjoying a high level of popularity and interest among non-Asian Americans, especially the dominant white majority. The
proliferation of books and classes related to yoga, ayurvedic medicine, and the martial
arts—traditions that originated in the East and developed in association with Buddhism—
have helped to introduce Buddhist concepts to many Americans. At the same time, the
conversion to Buddhism by many popular entertainers, athletes, and public figures in recent years has sparked interest not only in Buddhism, but also in Buddhist causes like the
“Free Tibet” movement. Most converts and sympathizers may in fact be sincere in their
interest in Buddhist practice and philosophy, but some are no doubt attracted to Buddhism because it is currently considered ’in vogue.’ In a sermon aimed at American converts, one Buddhist teacher cautioned her followers about becoming a Buddhist for this reason:
“Some Americans think it’s “cool” to be a minority,” she explained, “so they become a
Buddhist. If you’re black and you’re a woman, and you become a Buddhist, you’re at the
top of everyone’s list!” More important than the superficial attraction of Americans to Buddhism is the growing interest in Buddhism among religious and medical professionals.
Buddhist principles and meditative practices are being incorporated into the fields of stress-
management, death and dying, healing, emotional well-being, and mental health therapy. Broadened understanding and appreciation for Buddhism, particularly in the form of
serious spiritual and professional interest among white Americans, reinforces the positive
qualities of Asian Buddhists’ religious identity.
As basic Buddhist principles rapidly seep into all facets of American life, from the
medical establishment to the popular media, opportunities are improved for better
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 114
communication and more equitable relations between Asian Buddhist immigrants and their “hosts.” Asian Buddhists may therefore find it advantageous to emphasize their religious
identity when it opens new avenues for communication with other Americans. One of the monks once lamented that an Immigration and Naturalization Services (INS) official
determining his immigration status had expressed concern over his lack of income-earning
qualifications. If the official had better understood the role of the Buddhist monk, he suggested, he would have realized that the lay congregation supports theSangha and that
such concerns were therefore unfounded. During a subsequent INS interview though, the monk was pleased to discover that his next interviewer was interested in and even
somewhat knowledgeable about Buddhism. Although she was not aware of his vow of
celibacy and had unneccessarily questioned his family status, he had found the experience to be very positive because the interviewer shared some common understanding with him. Another advantage in Asian Buddhists’ emphasizing their religious identity is that it
provides a foundation for establishing powerful alliances with other Buddhists. It is only
in America, and only at the end of the twentieth century, that all of the various forms of
Buddhist doctrine and practice have become available in one geographic location. As a result, the American context offers an opportunity for the establishment of pan-Buddhist
alliances. Alliances among immigrant Buddhist groups may be particularly beneficial
because of the constraints these groups face as members of ethnic and racial, as well as religious, minorities. Limited resources and a recognition of common needs and problems
outside of one’s own ethnic group have prompted immigrant Buddhists in America to
embrace ecumenism in varying degrees and to develop inter-Buddhist organizations.
Numrich cites “the sheer isolation felt by immigrant Buddhist temples and monks” as one
factor in the development of inter-Buddhist organizations such as the American Buddhist Congress (1996:55). Furthermore, he argues, some Buddhists have recognized that
“Buddhist unity is prerequisite to the successful spread of Buddhism in the United States”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 115
where “historical divisions and antipathies among the various Buddhist schools, ethnic traditions, and monastic groups...carry less force” (Numrich 1996:55-56). In order to establish more equitable relations with their non-Asian hosts, it may be necessary for
Asian Buddhists to work collectively. There are logistical problems associated with any multicultural alliance though.
Penny Van Esterik notes that language, race, class, and cultural barriers, in addition to
differences in religious interpretation, have prevented many immigrant Buddhist groups from successfully working together in the past (1992:91-101). Ironically, it is often the need to interpret and mediate Buddhism for Westerners, as well as for more
“Americanized” generations of Asian Buddhists, which has necessitated the creation of trans-cultural forms of Buddhist practice and teaching, and prompted the establishment of inter-Buddhist coalitions. A central goal of the Buddhist Sangha Council of Southern
California, for example, is to respond to misrepresentations of Buddhism in the popular media (Numrich 1999: 127).
The Vihara was originally established as a place to present Buddhism for
Westerners, and this continues to be one of its central functions. The use of English as a primary language, and the openness of the majority Sinhalese participants toward
accommodating non-Sinhalese participants has made the Vihara particularly attractive to
non-Asian converts as well as other Asian immigrants. Bangladeshi Buddhists, for example, who also participated at a Thai temple in town, reported a preference for
participating at the Vihara precisely because services were conducted in English. One man,
the father of a young boy, noted that the Sunday school class at the Vihara provided an opportunity for his son to acquire greater competence in English. This would be necessary, he believed, for his son to succeed in America. Two high school-aged
Bangladeshi boys told me they enjoyed coming to the Vihara because they could practice
their English with the monks and other lay people. As was evident in the ceremony
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 116
described in Chapter Three, the head monk actively encourages other Asian Buddhists to worship in ways unique to their cultural tradition. Several non-Sinhalese immigrants
reported that this too made them feel especially welcome here.
Cross-cultural sharing at the Vihara may have the effect of breaking down barriers and expanding the range and effectiveness of placemaking choices available to all Asian
immigrants. While sharing a snack with a monk and me one day, a Sinhalese woman
explained that, while she was growing up in Sri Lanka, lay people never ate the monks’
food. But Buddhists in Thailand and Burma, she had discovered, had developed other
traditions. Now, as she enjoyed a bowlful of ice-cream from the Vihara’s freezer, she explained to me, “This is an international place. All kinds of people come here. We can’t
discriminate against their traditions. Everyone must be welcome!” The effect of this openness has in many cases been an expansion of placemaking options, not only at the Vihara but at Buddhist places around the world. As the monk had explained, “Even in Sri Lanka, nowadays, things like this are changing.”
This example points to a final observation regarding relations between immigrants
and their hosts. While the relative dominance of the host society suggests that immigrants exert less power over placemaking activities and face considerable pressure to adopt and
adapt their placemaking activities, under current social conditions immigrant-host relations
are no longer primarily a matter of uni-directional assimilation, but rather one of constant
feedback and mutual influence. As a result, the strategic orientations of participants at
places like the Vihara can ultimately have global effects.
Levitt (1998) has shown how Catholic immigrants living in Boston are involved in a process of religious “remittance” with fellow villagers remaining in the Dominican Republic. Through frequent visits, clergy exchanges, and on-going communication
between residents of these two places, new practices, organizational structures, and
religious values are introduced into each context, resulting in a process of “reciprocal
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 117
transformation” rather than one-sided assimilation (Levitt 1998: 74). Similarly, Asian immigrants at the Vihara are involved in processes of religious reciprocity. In the example above, the monk pointed out that new practices resulting from intercultural exchanges at the
Vihara are having an effect on temples back in Sri Lanka. Although Asian immigrants at the Vihara are constrained by the social categories imposed upon them by the non-Asian host society, and necessarily negotiate their identity through these categories, they are also
able to form cross-cultural connections through places like the Vihara based on their shared
religious identity. Cross-cultural, inter-Buddhist exchanges which occur through religious alliances and remittance processes may in turn produce changes on a more global level.
Ethnicity and Racialization As Torres and Ngin define it, ‘racialization’ is a dialectical process of domination
and exclusion in which the idea of race is used to structure social relations (1995). Racialization occurs as individuals, and entire social structures, define and represent certain
groups on the basis of physical appearance, typically skin color. Some forms of racialization, such as race-related quota systems and the use of code words like “model
minority,” are imposed upon groups from the outside. Racialization can also develop internally as groups respond to outside factors. Alliances among Asians to combat race-
based attacks or to collectively lobby for political rights is one example. Alternatively,
groups may attempt to dissociate themselves from other groups in response to external racialization, and thereby reinforce or redefine their own “ethnic” distinctiveness. Ethnicity, inasmuch as it involves processes of exclusion and domination, can therefore be understood as a form of internal racialization. Racialization processes, both external and
internal, were a major factor influencing participants’ placemaking strategies at the Vihara. While racialization affected all participants at the Vihara, I focus here on its effect upon
Sinhalese Buddhist immigrants. Sinhalese Buddhists belong to a particularly ambiguous
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 118
social category as the result of two processes of racialization: race-based demographic categories and political policies which foster ethnic particularity, and scholarly
classifications of Asian Buddhism which preceded the currently popular theory of 'Two Buddhisms.” Both of these processes function to reify and reproduce racially constituted relations of inequality in America.
Since the Civil Rights struggles of the 1960s, African Americans, Native
Americans, and other minority groups have achieved greater institutional equality in
accordance with their official recognition as ethnic minorities in the United States.
Recognizing the potential political and economic advantages of claiming minority status,
South Asians and eight other ethnic minority groups successfully lobbied for separate
racial subcategories on the 1990 United States Census forms under the proposed umbrella
category, “Asians and Pacific Islanders.” South Asians represent a very diverse group, characterized by differences in language, religion, class and caste. Individually no group
was large enough to exert the necessary political influence to gain representation on their own, but by lobbying for representation as a single, unified group, South Asians have been
effective in influencing United States policy, particularly in regard to immigration.
Collective campaigns against immigration restrictions which would limit family
reunification programs helped to pave the way for the rapid growth in population among
South Asian immigrants in recent decades (Lopez and Espiritu 1990). Still, for Sinhalese Buddhists, identity as a “South Asian American” can be somewhat problematic.
Upon arriving in the United States, immigrants from South Asia become “South Asian Americans," a demographic category which includes, in addition to Sinhalese
Buddhists, Hindus, Sikhs, Christians, Parsis, Jews, Jains and Muslims speaking a variety
of languages and claiming ties to particular localities within South Asia. Some of these
groups have been deeply divided in the past, and immigration has fueled some old rivalries
as groups who were denied representation when countries in the region gained
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 119
independence attempt to seize power on a worldwide stage by making claims to sovereignty over a particular homeland, or when minority populations look to Western
nations to help them resist the influence of dominant powers within the region. The threat of ‘Indianization’ looms large over some of the smaller states and minority groups in the
region, including Sinhalese Buddhists.
The island of Sri Lanka lies just twenty miles southeast of India, and for centuries, the ancestors of Sri Lanka’s Sinhalese majority have harbored deep fears and suspicion of
its powerful neighbor, India. A sixth century Buddhist chronicle, the Mahavamsa. suggests the depth of collective Sinhalese anxiety toward India, and especially toward
Tamil-speaking “Indians” who have lived among the Sinhalese for centuries. The chronicle depicts the Sinhalese, who are mostly Buddhists, as a peaceful, righteous people, while the mainly Hindu, Tamil-speaking population is portrayed as aggressive and foreign. Despite historical evidence that the two groups coexisted relatively peacefully throughout
much of the island’s history, and the fact that some Tamils even patronized Buddhism in
the past, the authors of the chronicle (probably Buddhist monks) apparently considered the close proximity of southern India and the influence of brahminism (with its influential
priestly caste) to be significant threats to Buddhism and to the sovereignty of the Sinhalese
people (Gombrich 1988:138-139). The popularization of this chronicle through the education system and political rhetoric in the modem era has tended to fuse together within
Sinhalese Buddhism notions of national identity, territorial integrity, and religious duty (Liyanage 1998). In recent years, this merging of people, place, and religion has had devastating repercussions.
During the 1980s, animosities between the Sinhalese majority and Tamil separatists
in the northern parts of the island erupted into an on-going civil war fueled by inequalities
dating from the colonial era. hi 1987, the Sri Lankan government attempted to resolve the
situation by entering into a widely unpopular agreement with India, known as the Indo-Sri
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 120
Lankan Accord. Under the terms of the treaty, Tamil separatists would surrender to Indian
peacekeeping forces and the Sinhalese government, in return, would acknowledge Tamil as
an official language, withdraw security forces, and devolve power to predominantly Tamil speaking provinces (Pfaffenberger 1988: 141). The overwhelmingly negative reaction
among the majority Sinhalese population revealed the continued sense of insecurity that
many felt in the face of India’s dominance in the region (Moore 1993:613). Over the next
few years, militant Sinhalese nationalists waged a violent anti-govemment campaign, government forces retaliated (accumulating the world’s highest rate of government-
sanctioned killings by 1992, according to the United Nations), and Indian troops were forced out of the country, escalating rather than resolving the separatist struggle (Numrich 1996: xix).
At the Vihara, Sinhalese Buddhists occasionally expressed anxiety about the infiltration of Indian, and specifically Tamil, influences in Sri Lanka. One Sinhalese participant illustrated the problem of India’s dominance in the region by drawing a map of
Sri Lanka for me. First he shaded in the northern and eastern parts of the island, areas
demanded by Tamil separatists, then he shaded in the central area occupied by Indian Tamils, descendants of plantation workers brought from southern India by the British. If
the nation was divided, he explained, this territory would be effectively off-limits to the
Sinhalese, who would be forced to reside in the small horseshoe-shaped area that remained. But even in this area, he pointed out, the Sinhalese would not be safe. Marking
’x’s throughout that area, he explained that Tamils would not remain in their territory, but would spread throughout the island using scarce resources such as land. He acknowledged that the Sinhalese held a significant majority in Sri Lanka today, but then reminded me that
many more Tamils lived just across the strait in the southern parts of India.
Given many Sinhalese Buddhists’ deep suspicion and fear of “Indianization” it is
not surprising that Sinhalese participants at the Vihara often chose to downplay their South
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 121
Asian identity, even though it may have provided political and economic advantages outside the Vihara. For example, in my interview with Rohana, he resisted a comparison
between Sinhalese and Indian culture, noting differences particularly in regard to food:
Another thing, like Sri Lankan food and things—we are different from the Indian food, uh, not completely Indian food. And when we go to the Chinese shops [in America] and all and I see the same thing—what we use back home. Not...the things not Indians use, only we use. Maybe we are that Indian culture mixed with the Chinese, Thai, Oriental people. I think those things came through because of the Buddhism.... Because monks going here and there and coming and things. I mean, maybe that’s the reason.
At another point in the interview, Rohana noted the similarities he saw in the Buddhist art and architecture of Sri Lanka, China and even the United States. Instead of
emphasizing an identity as a South Asian American, a category dominated by non- Buddhist immigrants from India who pose a perceived threat to Sinhalese Buddhist culture, Rohana highlighted similarities among Sinhalese and other Asian Buddhists. He
pointed to the history of cultural exchange within the Buddhist world as more influential than exchanges that occurred within the region known as South Asia. His comments point
to a second process of racialization affecting Sinhalese Buddhists at the Vihara.
This second form of racialization developed within the colonial-era discourse about race and religion, but continues to be produced and made meaningful through popular and
scholarly discourse related to Buddhism in America today. By the mid-1800s, European
scholars had begun to distinguish between a relatively conservative, “Southern” form of
Buddhism practiced by Buddhists living in Sri Lanka, Burma, Thailand, and parts of southeast Asia, and a “Northern” Buddhism, practiced throughout Japan, China, and other
regions of north and east Asia. This division roughly correlated with the division between
two schools of Buddhist thought, Hinayana22 and Mahayana, which split apart in India
22Hinayana translates as “the lesser vehicle” and is now understood to be a derogatory designation. Approximately one hundred years after the Buddha’s death, disciplinary differences (and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 122
over 2,000 years ago. The influence of both schools can be found throughout Asia today, and neither tradition exists in its original form. Nevertheless, the issue of ‘purity’ in
Buddhism continues to be debated today. What is often absent from these debates is the
recognition that all modem forms of Buddhism are undergoing constant change, and all
have been heavily influenced not only by other traditions within Buddhism, but also by
early Western studies of Buddhism.
As a label for a diverse but identifiable set of beliefs and practices, “Buddhism” is a fairly recent cultural construction, dating only a couple of centuries. At first, Philip
Almond notes, “Buddhism was an object which was instanced and manifested ‘out there’ in the Orient, in a spatial location geographically, culturally, and therefore imaginatively
other*' (1988: 12). As such, Buddhism was made more manageable for travelers,
missionaries, and early colonialists. Eventually though,
Buddhism came to be determined as an object the primary location of which was the West, through the progressive collection, translation, and publication of its textual past. Buddhism, by 1860, had come to exist, not in the Orient, but in the Oriental libraries and institutes of the West, in its texts and manuscripts, at the desks of the Western savants who interpreted it (Almond 1988:12-13). During the late 19th century, Theosophists and other Western scholars eager to find
alternatives to a religion-based morality discovered in Buddhism ‘a way of life’ rather than a religion. These scholars returned to the earliest documentation of the Buddha’s teaching,
the Pali Canon, preserved by Sinhalese monks over the centuries, in search of the ‘essence’ of those teachings which had supposedly been corrupted as Buddhism moved further away
from its roots in northern India (Southwold 1983). The assumption on the part of early
to some extent doctrinal disagreements) led monks of the Mahayana school, who claimed to follow “the greater vehicle” to salvation, to split apart from those they labeled the Hinayana school (generally those who continued to subscribe to what they believed was the original path of the Buddha). The Hinayana school originally included followers of a number of conservative Buddhist traditions who opposed the position of the Mahayanists. Theravada is the only currently practiced form of Buddhism with roots in these early conservative traditions. It is inaccurately, and in most cases quite offensively, referred to as Hinayana Buddhism.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 123
scholars that “Southern,” Theravada Buddhism more closely resembled an "original’ form
of Buddhism, provided a means of distinguishing Theravada Buddhists from other Buddhists who practiced a ‘"less pure” form of the religion. But cast as an agnostic,
rational, ritual-free philosophy, ‘pure’ Buddhism was itself a thing of the past, part of a
once great civilization in India that was now corrupt and therefore justifiably subject to colonial rule. Colonel Henry S. Olcott and other modem Buddhist reformers continued to
emphasize the conservative character of the Theravada tradition, even while they attempted to rid it of impure, cultural excrescences. As a result, the ‘pure’ Theravada Buddhism
which was ‘revived’ in Sri Lanka at the turn of the century was, in fact, very much a
product of the West.23
Literally translated, Theravada means “way of the elders,” and it is often
Theravada’s conservatism that attracts participants to the Vihara. As Barry, a long-time participant at the Vihara, had put it: “this is real Buddhism.” Non-Sinhalese participants praised the Sinhalese people, not only for their ancestors’ role in preserving the Buddha’s
teachings, but also for maintaining a conservative interpretation of the teachings over the
course of many centuries and in the face of invading ‘foreign’ influences (e.g., Mahayana
Buddhism as well as Christianity). In contrast, several converts expressed a very critical view toward “watered-down,” “Americanized” versions of Theravada Buddhism advocated by some American teachers. These teachers reinterpret the Theravada teachings
in an effort to makevipassana practice more accessible to non-Asian converts, but in the
process, their opponents argue, they dilute its essence or purity; one American convert has dubbed this trend "Dhamma-lite.”
23Obeyesekere (1970) labeled this form of Buddhism “Protestant Buddhism” in reference to its origin in the context of Buddhist protests against Christian missionary activity on the island, as well as the fact that it was shaped to a large degree by the Protestant beliefs and organizational structures that were part of Olcott’s religious background. There is a considerable amount of literature dealing with this topic including Bond 1988, Gombrich 1988, and Malaigoda 1976.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 124
Among many of the Sinhalese participants, the essence of Buddhism lay in its emphasis on a simple life-style and generosity of spirit which is intertwined with their image of Sinhalese culture. One Sinhalese man explained that “Buddhism is really about
compassion, peacefulness, and kindness." A Sinhalese woman insisted, “It’s okay to have
different beliefs as long as you’re good.” These interpretations are reflected in Sinhalese participants’ emphasis on morality, devotionalism, and merit making practices. In
contrast, among some of the converts I interviewed, ‘real’ Buddhism implied a
philosophical and psychological approach to living characterized by the practice of meditation and the study of authoritative texts. Some Sinhalese monks and lay people
shared this view, pointing to the American converts who regularly practiced meditation as models of true Buddhism. There is a conflation of place and practice implied by these comments: for these participants, ‘pure’ Buddhism continues to reside firmly in the West.
According to Richard Gombrich, concern for balancing insight with feelings of
compassion is what set Buddhism apart from the religious traditions of the Buddha’s time,
and it reveals the sense in which Buddhism continues to offer a middle path (Gombrich
1988). Today though, practices which have long been hierarchically related within the Theravada tradition24 are becoming spatially, and racially, reinterpreted as meditation is emphasized by predominantly white. Western converts, and merit making and other
24Ancient Theravada leaders advocated a gradual path toward enlightenment in which one develops in turn, and over the course of many lifetimes, morality, concentration, and wisdom. In pursuing this path, one progresses from the level of mundane existence to a supramundane level, where one passes through four stages (represented by the ‘Tour noble persons”) before becoming a fully enlightened being. It was assumed that in order to develop concentration and wisdom, and therefore to progress to the supramundane level, one must necessarily renounce lay life with all its responsibilities and distractions in order to practice meditation. This implied that the most appropriate training for lay Buddhists was the development of morality through activities like merit making, and meditation became the preserve of the forest monks. Bond (1988) discusses reasons for this historical development in the Theravada tradition.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 125
devotional acts of worship (not considered to be ‘real’ Buddhist practice) are stereotypically
linked to Asian Buddhists. In summary, racialization processes link Sinhalese Buddhists in America demographically and politically to other immigrants from South Asia. In terms of religion
however, some Sinhalese Buddhists identify more closely with other ‘ethnic’ Buddhists,
most of whom are immigrants from East Asia, even though as Theravada Buddhists, they
represent a minority even within this group. Sinhalese Buddhists also identify with those Western converts who seek a more conservative, orthodox form of Buddhism. And yet,
despite a high rate of assimilation in the United States, Sinhalese Buddhists are nevertheless assigned to a subordinate racial category as non-whites or “people of color.’,2S These intertwined processes of racialization function to constrain Sinhalese Buddhist
participants at the Vihara by excluding them from and subordinating them to the white, non-Buddhist majority that exists outside the Vihara’s borders. At the same time,
Sinhalese Buddhists employ racialization processes to claim exclusion and autonomy from
other South Asians, to strategically form alliances with other Asian Buddhists, and to emphasize aspects of Theravada Buddhism which allow them to align themselves with non-Asian converts. An example from my fieldnotes will illustrate how such racialization
processes articulate with local placemaking activities at the Vihara.
The Asian Food Bazaar Each year at the Vihara, a food bazaar is held to raise funds for the temple. In 1999 the event was advertised on a large board in the front lawn as an “Asian Food Bazaar,” although nearly all the food sold was prepared Sri Lankan style. Before the event began, a
25Like other South Asians, Sinhalese immigrants exhibit greater proficiency in English, more dispersed settlement patterns, and higher levels of education and wealth than other Asian immigrants (Lopez and Espiritu 1990).
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 126
Burmese woman arrived carrying an East-Asian style noodle dish to sell at the Bazaar.
The Sinhalese women who were organizing the event instructed her to place her dish on a particular table where a tray of lasagna had already been placed, along with a crate of
tangerines brought by a Chinese woman. Across the room, organizers had set up two
other tables. On these tables they placed the “Sri Lankan" dishes: stringhoppers, curries, savory cutlets and fried sweets. I pointed out the abundance of Sri Lankan food and asked
one of the organizers why they called this an “Asian” food bazaar instead of a “Sri Lankan” one. She confessed, rather frankly, that they had hoped by doing so they might attract more “Americans” who were not necessarily familiar with “Sri Lankan” food, but
who might stop by if they saw a sign advertising “Asian” food.
This incident highlights some of the ways globally constituted racializations influence participants’ placemaking options at the Vihara, and how these racializations are
constituted, in part, through local placemaking activities. The Sinhalese organizers of the food bazaar took advantage of the fact that Americans generally lump Sinhalese immigrants together with other Asian groups, who are both more familiar to Americans and more populous. They did not specify “South Asian” though, as this would have
both narrowed their placemaking choices and implied a problematic solidarity with immigrants from India. By calling this an “Asian” food bazaar, the organizers hoped to
attract a larger and more diverse crowd to their sale. At the same time, they made it clear
that they considered Sinhalese Buddhists distinct from other Asian Americans, as well as from non-Asian Buddhists, whose contributions to the food sale were displayed on a separate table. As this example suggests, racialized categories can be used strategically to
secure collective benefits, even as racism itself functions to constrain some participants’ placemaking options.
Racializations, whether they develop internally or externally, are the result of a
dialectical process. As Torres and Ngin (1995) point out, defining “the Other” in terms of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 127
“blackness” entails defining “the Self’ in terms of “whiteness.” In the example above, the
organizers of the Food Bazaar defined themselves as “Other” through their
characterization of this sale as an “Asian” event. In doing so, they risked de-emphasizing
their own ethnic particularity, as well as any claim to inclusivity among the dominant non- Asian population which they might want to employ in a subsequent situation. They were able to partly diminish the negative effects of this action by displaying Sinhalese and non-
Sinhalese dishes separately, but the fact that few non-Asian people attended the event suggests that the effects of globally constituted inequalities based on race and ethnicity can
not be entirely predicted or controlled. It is worth noting that these placemaking strategies functioned within and through existing racialized categories, without contesting the
assumptions underlying those categories or challenging the process of racialization itself.
Racialized categories continue to be reproduced on both local and global levels as groups
make use of racialized categories to orient themselves to a place and to one another.
While it was rarely expressed openly, it was clear that all activities at the Vihara were affected by the persistence of racialized categories and the differential opportunities
and constraints they posed. Sinhalese participants’ minority racial status within the context
of the United States, for example, was a constant, underlying factor influencing their placemaking activities, even though it was rarely expressed overtly. The pervasiveness of racialization surfaced briefly during a conversation between me and Bhante A one day. He
had insisted on gathering a few leftovers from the previous day’sdana for me to take
home, so we were in the kitchen when a Sinhalese man stopped by for a visit. Bhante
continued to look through cupboards for surplus items to give me and found a five pound
bag of sugar which he offered to the Sinhalese man. The visitor, who was a strict vegan,
declined to take it, explaining that he did not use white sugar. He then expounded on the
health risks associated with overly processed, ‘white’ foods which are so prevalent in the
American diet: white bread, white rice, white flour, white sugar, and so on. Bhante nodded
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 128
in agreement, then quipped “Yes, America is full of white things!” Then he winked at me
self-consciously, as if to make sure I had understood this was a joke. We laughed at it, but
for a brief moment, the differential opportunities and constraints we each faced because of
our race and our relationship to this place had been clearly and uncomfortably exposed.
Identity Construction
In the first months of my fieldwork at the Vihara I was particularly concerned
about making clear my identity as an anthropologist and researcher, as well as a “friend of Buddhism” and fellow participant. I consciously attempted to find an appropriate balance
between my role as a scholar-observer and an active student-participant. I soon realized
though that my particular identity project was intricately intertwined with other participants’
identity projects. Who I was, or claimed to be, influenced how others identified
themselves or were identified by others. In an early interview with an American convert, I
had been startled by his remark that he felt “native” being interviewed by an
anthropologist. After that incident, I began to pay close attention to the ways identities
were being mutually constructed at the Vihara and how those identity constructions were
influencing participants’ placemaking strategies. Joane Nagel (1994) suggests that cultural identities are ‘layered’ in the sense that
they reflect a range of socially-meaningful choices available to an individual or group. In a
given situation, one may project an identity based on national origin, language, religion,
gender, ethnicity, age, race or any other socially recognized way of relating to others. Individuals and groups make identity choices based on the strategic advantages of a
particular identity and its meaning in a given situation. Anthropologists have long held that
identity functions as a boundary marker constituted through the cultural construction of
meaning. Cultural constructions of ethnicity, for example, form a basis for new ethnic
communities, while also revitalizing existing ethnic boundaries and redefining the meaning
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 129
of ethnicity within existing groups. Cultural constructions of ethnicity may also mobilize
groups by establishing a basis for solidarity, defining grievances, identifying collective goals, and providing tactics for collective action (Nagel 1994). Identity, in this sense, is not
an inherent characteristic, but a way of orienting oneself or one’s group toward others for a
specific purpose. At the Vihara, claims to a “Buddhist” identity often functioned to unify participants
who were otherwise divided by language, race, ethnicity, age and gender. At other times, the Vihara itself became the basis for constructing a common personal and group identity. In May 1998, the Vihara held a unique ceremony in which eight lay people, all of us non-
Sinhalese converts, were presented with new “Buddhist” names in front of a large group
gathered for the annual Vesak ceremony. This was not a conversion ceremony, the head monk made clear, but simply a way to recognize those who had been “particularly helpful
and good to the Vihara.” Each of us involved in the ceremony was endowed with a Pali
name, selected by the monks, which suited our personalities or the nature of our contributions. A Chinese-Malaysian man who had spent hours setting up the Vihara’s
database was named “Maniyita,” meaning “very disciplined one.” An American woman who often drove the monks to meetings and appointments was given the name “Sumana”
or “kind heart.” I was given the name “Samitha,” which means “calm one.” As he announced my new name, the head monk publicly acknowledged my help as an English
tutor to one of the monks, and reminded the crowd that I had been participating at the
Vihara for many years. Curious about the meaning of the ceremony, I asked other participants involved
what they thought about it. “It’s sort of like an initiation ceremony,” one of them explained. Our new Pali name would say “we’re one of the club!” Following the naming
ceremony, I was sometimes introduced to newcomers as Samitha, and monks and lay
people occasionally referred to me by this name. As a marker of my identity at the Vihara,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 130
my Pali name conveyed a new sense of my connection to this place, and my relationship
with others practicing there. The naming ceremony functioned to de-emphasize differences
between those of “us” who received new Pali names and many of the Sinhalese participants, whose distinctive-sounding names were similarly rooted in the Pali language. Through intertwined processes of identity construction and placemaking then, a new sense
of community was constructed through, rather than despite, existing cultural differences. Nevertheless, for me and others endowed with Pali names, our new identities were, in an
important way, optional. Inasmuch as identity is constructed through placemaking
activities, placemaking can be understood as a way to communicate and create relations of
community or difference. These relations are differentially negotiable though, depending on factors influencing identity construction.
All social relations are the product of intertwined processes of identity construction and placemaking. Clifford (1994) argues that members of a diasporic community are
linked not by cultural and historical ties to a distant place, but by their use of these ties to
differentiate themselves from members of a host society. Jonathan Spencer (1990)
described how Sinhalese nationalists used a place-related narrative to naturalize their claims to Sri Lanka while reinforcing ethnic boundaries that seemed to justify the exclusion of Tamils from that space. He demonstrates that the construction of Sinhalese and Tamil
ethnic identity, so often assumed to be a natural product of their distinctive histories, is in fact constituted in complex ways through the ongoing and highly contested construction of Sri Lanka itself.
I have argued that identity is the result of strategic and contextual constructions of
cultural meaning, especially the meaning of a place. The range of available identity choices is never limitless though. Identify is constrained by external forces including
institutionalized racism and other hierarchical relations which influence the “options,
feasibility, and attractiveness” of various identify choices (Nagel 1994:161). Frankenberg
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 131
and Mani (1993) argue that identity construction occurs within and through a constantly
shifting matrix of race, gender, class, and other existing relations of inequality and difference. They point out, for example, that for both colonizers and colonized, the
postcolonial experience articulates with other orientations, so the link between one’s
identity and a postcolonial place is neither predictable nor transparent. For example, gender, generation, class, and geographic differences influenced the way two Sinhalese
women, recent immigrants living in Toronto, characterized their own orientations to postcoloniality. Reacting to the death of Princess Diana, the older woman expressed deep
sadness. Her generation and her parents’ generation had loved the British royalty, she
explained, because despite the problems colonialism created in Sri Lanka, the British
brought with them many modem things. “Without them, we would be fools'.” she said. Her daughter, whose children are growing up in a comfortable suburban house in North
America, equipped with two televisions, a computer and the latest video games, expressed
a very different sense of the postcolonial relationship between Sri Lanka and Great Britain.
She too was saddened by the Princess’ death, but her comments expressed a sense of
solidarity rather than incommensurability. She felt “pity” for Diana, she explained, and
was mad at Prince Charles for having an affair and for treating Diana so poorly. As Frankenberg and Mani suggest, the pacing of cultural time differs “according to one’s location in relation to systems of domination” (1993:300). That location is not simply the
result of history or the previous process of domination, but of a constantly shifting set of
orientations to that domination.
At the Vihara, claims to a Buddhist identity are similarly interwoven with
constructions of race, ethnicity, class, gender and age. Clothing proved to be highly
meaningful marker of identity in this regard. Sinhalese women typically wore saris or
westem-style dresses when they visited the Vihara, while convert women generally
dressed more casually. On occasions when I wore a dress or skirt to the Vihara, I was
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 132
invariably likened to “a Sri Lankan woman” by some Sinhalese participants. White or light-colored clothing, on the other hand, was typically worn by lay renunciates regardless
of gender. Upon seeing me and a white male convert dressed identically in white button-
down shirts and khaki pants, one of the monks joked that we were wearing “the Buddhist uniform!” In this way, gender-coded interpretations of dress articulated with the construction of my own and other’s ethnic and religious identity in ways that were
contextual and multi-layered. Constructions of Buddhist identity were similarly permeated by constructions of
racial identity. In the United States, the phrase “white Buddhist” has been used in popular
and scholarly Buddhist literature to distinguish non-Asian American converts from “ethnic” immigrant Buddhists. As a result, non-Asian, non-white Buddhist converts are often omitted altogether from the discourse on American Buddhism, bell hooks, herself a
Buddhist convert, argues that “In the United States there are many black people and people
of color engaged with Buddhism who do not have visibility or voice” (1994:44). She
suggests that many more have resisted the path of Buddhism because “choosing such a path in this country has been synonymous with choosing whiteness” (1994:43) African
Americans and other people of color who participate at the Vihara may find that its multi
cultural atmosphere allows for a broader range of identity construction than at Buddhist
centers which serve a predominantly white or Asian congregation. This seemed to be the case in one instance when a Sinhalese woman asked two African-African visitors whether
they were “becoming Buddhists.” Perhaps wary of the constraints such a label might
imply, one of the visitors responded, “No, just international citizens of the world!” Racial
constructions posed fewer constraints for white converts, who were more able to resist those forms of boundary-making which seemed to limit their identity options, and who
often seemed to deny the effect of racial constructions on others. This was evident in a
white woman’s response when she too was asked by a Sinhalese participant whether she
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 133
was “becoming a Buddhist.” The white woman smiled and responded, ‘There is nothing
to become!” While my own ‘femaleness, ‘Americanness,’ and ‘whiteness,’ could not be
overlooked as significant (albeit variable) aspects of my orientation to other participants,
elements of a Buddhist belief system allowed for particularly fluid understandings of personal and group identity at the Vihara. It was often suggested, for instance, by
Sinhalese participants, that I must have been a Sinhalese Buddhist in a past life. This explained why 1 became interested in Buddhism in this life, and why I participated at the Vihara rather than some other, predominantly white American Buddhist center. When I
quickly learned to draw Sinhalese characters as part of my language training, my teacher expressed certainty that this meant I had been bom in Sri Lanka in a past life. Another
European-American convert recalled having a similar experience as a young boy. At the age of ten, he had become interested in Buddhism and spent a great deal of time visiting the
Vihara. When it was discovered that he was able to recite certain chants along with the monks without having had any previous training, the monks assured him that he must
have been a Buddhist monk in a past lifetime. These identity constructions are not merely attempts to make sense of one’s current
situation by reference to a past identity though. Throughout my research I found that
participants used identity constructions to negotiate and redefine current relationships,
especially those constrained by racial, ethnic, class, and gender inequalities. While helping to prepare for a large ceremony at the Vihara one afternoon, I became involved in just this kind of identity construction process. As I washed windows in the entryway, several
Sinhalese people passed by me and made light conversation. The first passer-by, a monk,
reminded me that I was earning good kamma by doing this. Pausing by the door, he said he thought that maybe one day I would become a Buddhist nun. I laughed and responded
that he must be referring to my next life, but he said no, that he saw it in me in this life. A
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 134
few minutes later, another monk accompanied by two Sinhalese lay people, stopped to observe my work. One of them remarked excitedly, “Ah, you know what to do!” Another monk paused on his way by to pronounce “You’re family now!” and added
that he would report my assistance to Bhante A, my former language teacher, who had returned to Sri Lanka a few months earlier. Later, the first monk returned and asked if I knew what the kammic benefits of cleaning were. “An opportunity to be mindful?” I
suggested, unaware that he was referring to a more specific cause and effect relationship described in the Abhidhamma. “No,” he explained, “cleaning makes you more beautiful. It makes your skin bright and clear, and makes you more attractive to others.” I laughed
and told him I had better keep working. On the contrary, he thought I must have cleaned a lot in my past, and implored me to stop cleaning. “Otherwise,” he joked, “I will become jealous of you!”
Looking back, it seems clear that we were all involved in a subtle but complex process of identity construction and negotiating relations of community and difference. By offering to help clean, I had hoped to communicate to the monks and other lay people my
commitment to the Vihara. Having been categorized as a white convert, and therefore expected to participate mainly in the classes offered by the Vihara, I was also attempting to expand the range of activities in which I “belonged" to include activities, like cleaning, that
were usually associated with Sinhalese lay people. When I arrived at the Vihara that day, I initially joined a group of Sinhalese women who were working in the basement and asked
them, in English, what I could do to help. The women immediately stopped working and
their lively conversation in Sinhala came to an abrupt halt. One of them quietly explained
that there was nothing left to do. I spoke a few words with them in Sinhala, hoping that might reduce the social distance between us. Finally though, sensing that they were not
going to resume working with me in the room, I decided to go back upstairs and, working
alone, I began to clean what I had noticed were very dirty windows. In this activity, I had
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 135
found a meaningful orientation positioned along the boundaries between family and
foreigner, convert and bom-Buddhist, dominant white American and non-white
immigrant, excluded and included. This orientation was reinforced by the passers-by whose comments can be
understood as strategic attempts to negotiate relationships. The first monk, in predicting that I would one day become a nun, had probably hoped to diminish the social distance
between us. As a monastic, he was considered different from lay people like myself, but by identifying me as a likely candidate for monasticism he redefined my relationship with
him and the other monks. The next group of passers-by pointed out our common
knowledge and understanding of the needs of this place, while the second monk described
me as “family.” By adding that he would report my assistance to my former teacher, he
reminded me of the social connections I had already established here, and the fact that these connections now transcended this place to include my teacher in Sri Lanka. These
comments functioned to redefine my identity as ethnically different. By emphasizing our
shared relation to the Vihara, rather than our ethnic differences, they created a sense of community which extended beyond the physical boundaries of this place. The last comments are less clearly reorienting, but I believe they too represent a negotiation of
relations. The monk’s reference to my personal appearance, especially the appearance of my skin, as an indication of, andkammic reward for, my past good actions, can be
interpreted as a reference to my racial identity as a white person and an explanation of the
high status awarded to lighter-skinned people generally. By imploring me to stop cleaning, lest he become “jealous” of me, I understand him to be reminding me of our unequal
racialized relations. He was issuing a caution, it seems, that my identity as a dominant
white ’other’ could, if emphasized over other orientations, become a hindrance to our sense
of solidarity and community as fellow Buddhists participating at this place.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 136
Changing Expectations Placemaking allowed participants at the Vihara to continuously reorient themselves and one another within a constantly changing context of relationships. In negotiating the
meaning and use of the Vihara, participants simultaneously negotiated and asserted relations of community and difference. Earlier in this chapter I suggested that through their
face-to-face interactions, participants at the Vihara tested and refined their expectations of
one another based on assumptions about cultural difference. Bhante K, the meditation teacher, for example, had speculated that Westerners would be amenable to paying for his
class. By suggesting this course of action to me, he was in effect testing his assumptions
about Westerners’ values. Contrary to his expectation, I later learned that several American
converts were uncomfortable with the idea of monks charging fees for teaching. One American, who had just returned from a Buddhist conference, complained that the monks
there had been paid to lecture. He acknowledged that those monks may have accepted the money on their temple’s behalf, but even so, he felt theDhamma should be shared freely.
Bhante K ultimately decided not to charge money for his classes (probably the board
would not have approved of this), but if he had, he would likely have offended more than a few Americans as well as many Sinhalese. Face-to-face encounters often failed to confirm participants’ expectations of one another, and occasionally, assumptions were directly
challenged by encounters with cultural ’others.’
In my interview with Dan, the American convert who enjoyed meeting people at
the Vihara who shared his interest in Theravada, he reported that his encounters with ’other’ (Asian) participants had directly affected his participation at the Vihara. A self
identified atheist, Dan had originally been hesitant to participate in devotional practices
which he considered strictly “religious” and unrelated to his own personal, meditative
practice of Buddhism. Like many Americans at the Vihara, he associated devotional
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 137
practices with Sinhalese participants, and regarded them as part of their “cultural practice.” Over time though, his views began to change:
But now I’ve met some of the Sri Lankans and they seem very friendly and it seems like it would be interesting and it seems like there’s a lot of good stuff in them [the devotional practices]. Like I’ve read about some of them and a lot of them are related back to some points of Buddhist doctrine and they [the Sinhalese] actually do meditate and stuff. So years ago I probably wouldn’t have even dared think about it.... It might be something I would try today.
Dan reported that by coming here, he has “come to respect the other traditions
more....My tendency is to be very hard and rigid about it, but since I come here with [another American] and he’s involved in other stuff...I’m slowly working my way out of
that attitude.” He describes this experience as “a wonderful gift." The effect of face-to-face encounters on placemaking activities was unpredictable.
Rohana, the young Sinhalese layman who carefully balanced his cultural and religious
identities, explained in an interview how his first experiences in America caused him to
reconsider his expectations of Americans and the need for Buddhist temples in this
country. Before coming to this country, he explained, he had assumed that because Americans were technologically advanced, they would be very open-minded and tolerant of religious diversity. This assumption initially lead him to dismiss any concerns he might
have had about the need for establishing and supporting Buddhist temples in America:
Before I came to this country, I didn’t even think about: “Monks have to go to the other countries, have to tell the Buddhism for the other people.” No, I didn’t even think about [that]. After I came here, I was keeping watching these channels, some channels about the—religious channels—and a lot of people trying to, trying to take me to the mosque, take me to their churches and all, and their ideas. And after that I realized “Oh my God—still!” Because when I learned in my schools about the science and things, about the Soc-, what happened to the Socrates and all these things, I thought now people, after the science and things, that people are a little bit open now. Now, people already went to the moon and things, you know. [ thought that America was more technological and everything is very high-level. So I thought “No, still got a lot of people who are, like, ’coward’ ideas.” I don’t know how to explain this.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 138
Rohana responded to these experiences by becoming actively involved in the Buddhist temple where he lived when he first moved to the United States:
Because of that I realize that, “Hey!"—and I’ve spoken with a lot of American people about Buddhism. They have never heard about this thing, they don’t know—so because of that, I realize that day, somebody has to give this to these people, and tell these people, to... give the knowledge for these people. When he moved to Washington, D.C., Rohana got involved in a fund-raising event for the
Vihara and he continues to be an active supporter and participant. He realizes now, he explained, that “we need temples, we need monks... I think we have to help the temple.” Aleisha, the African American convert who benefited from an eclectic spiritual
path, described her encounters with ‘others’ at the Vihara as spiritually transformative:
I think, you know, we all have the one same spirit, and I think as we learn to recognize each other as just different displays of that same spirit, it’s so helpful. It’s like, we like different flowers in our garden, we like different food on our plate. You know this, um—outside covering—is just like anything else. And I know, I myself, I get tripped on it, tripped up on outside appearances, you know with myself and with others. So it’s something that um, you know, we still have that judgment in our mind, we’d be judged, and so this is kind o f a safe place too to work and on even, that you know, maybe feel free to discuss it with someone. It’s something we all need to work on.... I learn a lot just being around different people (my emphasis). As Aleisha suggested, the Vihara may indeed be a particularly “safe place” for dealing with differences, especially those cultural and racial differences which seem persistent and
non-negotiable. Because of the multicultural, multi-ethnic, and multi-racial character of the Vihara’s congregation, activities here may provide a unique opportunity for participants to
re-examine assumptions about one another, to explore their differences, and ultimately to consider the processes by which those differences are produced.
Racial and ethnic differences depend for their meaning on the highly spatialized
assumption that we are inherently separate and naturally linked to discontinuous ‘places.’
In fact though, Gupta and Ferguson argue that “the identity of a place emerges by the
intersection of its specific involvement in a system of hierarchically organized spaces with
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 139
its cultural construction as a community or locality” (1997: 36). Participants are constructing the Vihara as a multiply understood and experienced place, as well as the
context and medium for constructing relations of community and difference. They are also involved in defining and using the Vihara in the sense of a culturally constituted and constituting "Buddhist place.’ The broader implications of participants’ placemaking activities given the mutual relationship between people and place will be the focus of the
next chapter.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER FIVE PRODUCING A BUDDHIST PLACE
Other Placemakers After an accidental fire damaged the Vihara in February, 1994, the Vihara Society
rented a house a few blocks away from the original building, and this new building served
as the temporary Vihara for several months. The monks, who had been staying at the Sri Lankan Ambassador’s house since the fire occurred, moved into the temporary location in March, 1994, and meditation classes, devotional services, and other activities resumed
according to the regular schedule. Shortly after the move though, the Vihara Society faced a new set of problems: a neighbor had issued a complaint against the Vihara for ‘non-
residential use’ of the building, and the city government was fining the Vihara $500
monthly until it complied with the area’s zoning laws. According to the Vihara’s legal advisor, the zoning laws required that this building,
and others along this street, be used strictly for residential purposes. To meet that
requirement, the Vihara’s book service would need to be shut down, he concluded, but classes and services could continue as long as they were characterized as private “religious
study groups.” He suspected that the source of the complaint had been a member of a
local civic organization which, he explained, had been trying for years “to eliminate all religious buildings north of Colorado [Street].” Colorado Street is a major route running
east-west across the city; it intersects 16th Street NW just north of the Vihara’s original
location. The Vihara’s temporary building was located on a side street off 16th Street, just a few blocks north of Colorado Street.
140
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 141
The Carter-Barron East Neighborhood Association (CBENA) represents the area south of Colorado Street where the Vihara’s original building stands. During a meeting in 1998, the organization’s secretary reported that, since 1982, the number of churches and
other non-profit organizations in the neighborhood had increased dramatically. In
response, CBENA was revising its bylaws to state that while “the organization seeks to
preserve and protect the unique residential quality of the neighborhood,” it also supports “responsible non-profit and business neighbors” (CBENA 1998). The 16th Street Heights civic association, which represents the area north of Colorado (an historically wealthier
neighborhood), has, according to long-time Vihara participants, been less open to the idea
of non-traditional churches and non-profit organizations purchasing property in the
neighborhood. Over the years, some neighbors have made clear their opposition to the Vihara’s presence in the neighborhood, effectively preventing the Vihara from relocating
north of Colorado Street. A few years before the fire, the Vihara Society attempted to purchase property north of Colorado Street on 16th Street, but when the monks began
receiving threatening phone calls, they abandoned the plan. On other occasions the Vihara
has been vandalized, and monks have been verbally harassed as they walked along the streets of the neighborhood.
These incidents illustrate that it is not only the Vihara’s participants who define this place and determine its use. Neighbors, civic associations, and city officials all influence
the kinds of 'places’ that occupy particular spaces. They too construct and contest narratives about the Vihara, distinguishing for instance between its use as a “religious
place” or a “residential place.” Particular uses are enforced or restricted through fines, legal action, and even threats of violence. In addition to working within and through a
range of global constraints posed by existing hierarchies, as described in the previous
chapter, participants at the Vihara are negotiating the meaning and use of this place with a
variety of 'outsiders.’ Outsiders’ representations of the Vihara influence the ways it is
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 142
experienced and understood by participants, and therefore play an important role in placemaking processes.
Following his meeting with the United States Immigration and Naturalization Services, Bhante K was pleased to inform me that his application for a 'green card’ had
been accepted. There had been no problems, he said, acknowledging his good fortune and adding, by way of explanation, “The Vihara has a good reputation.” In this case, the
Vihara’s reputation as an established organization which supports reputable monks had a
direct effect on placemaking activities because it determined this monk’s continued
presence here. Bhante K had considerable experience in meditation and was fluent in English; as the Vihara’s resident meditation master, he provided important services
including teaching the meditation classes and conducting day-long meditation retreats. In
an indirect way then, the reputation of the Vihara (as it has been constructed in the records
of Immigration and Naturalization Services) indirectly influenced the activities of many of the Vihara’s lay participants as well.
Even before participants arrive at the Vihara, they have usually learned something
about this place. Sinhalese participants invariably told me they heard about the Vihara “through the people,” suggesting that this place is well-known among Sinhalese
Buddhists, including some who have never even visited the United States. Many were
invited here by another Sinhalese person, or referred here after they moved to Washington. Still others knew of the Vihara through personal connections to the monks at the Bhikkhu
Training Center in Sri Lanka. Non-Sinhalese participants reported learning about the
Vihara through friends or other Buddhist groups, finding it in the phone book, or noticing it as they passed through the neighborhood. Very often, non-Sinhalese participants learned
about the Vihara through one of several published listings or guides to Buddhist places in America (e.g., Morreale 1988). These guides are typically the result of one or more
researcher’s efforts; they rely on personal anecdotes about a particular place, as well as on
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 143
public records and professional contacts. New temples are constantly being established
though, and some Buddhist organizations meet rather informally, so even the most
comprehensive listings of Buddhist places are likely to miss a few. On the other hand, some Buddhist places are listed quite often because of their long history and popularity in
the United States, or because scholars have considered them particularly important to understanding the history or scope of American Buddhism. As the first Theravada temple
in America, the Vihara has secured a place on most popular listings, and even on less
comprehensive ones. Official listings help to direct people to the Vihara, but they also function to
reinforce the idea that the Vihara is ‘a Buddhist place,’ and even suggest that it is a significant and reputable Buddhist place. These representations motivated new participants
as well as one-time visitors to choose the Vihara over the many other Buddhist temples in town. In 1997, the Vihara was selected as one of several sites visited by two hundred
Vietnamese Buddhists on a “pilgrimage” to prominent Buddhist places in Washington,
D.C. On another occasion, a group of sixteen Mennonites attended a service at the Vihara as part of a select tour of non-Westem religious places. Through its representation in popular guides to Buddhist places, and through its selection as a site for tours and
pilgrimages, the Vihara is constructed as an important and noteworthy religious place. Outsiders who visited the Vihara often brought with them new meanings and
understandings of its function. During a holy day celebration in 1998, a Sinhalese-
American politician visited the Vihara from southern Virginia to kick off his campaign for
a state office in 2001. Recognizing that he would need the support of other Sinhalese- Americans, he visited the Vihara to lobby for their vote even though he considered himself
a Catholic. In 1997 three Sri Lankan businessmen, members of the Lions Club, stayed at
the Vihara while they were in town for a conference related to social work. On another
occasion, a group of Peace Corps volunteers who had been stationed in Sri Lanka visited
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 144
the Vihara upon their return to the United States in hopes of making contact with some
Sinhalese living here. In each case, these ‘outsiders’ had redefined the Vihara, first as the
site of political campaigning, then as lodging for socially engaged businessmen abroad, and
finally as a site for a multi-cultural reunion. In addition to politicians, businessmen, and volunteers, students and teachers in town also took part in placemaking processes at the Vihara. Students visited the Vihara to
conduct class projects, to participate in religious services, or as part of a discussion group organized specifically for their class. One professor has been bringing students from her “Introduction to World Religions” course to the Vihara every semester for several years. In the spring of 1998, the students listened to an American convert describe Buddhist
philosophy, then they posed questions to the monks and other lay people, and practiced meditation with some of the Vihara’s regular participants. Other students visiting the
Vihara reported that their professor had recommended this place for a class assignment which required them to participate in an unfamiliar religious service, or to visit a Buddhist temple in town. In this way, the Vihara is represented as a place to experience and analyze an alternative religious and cultural tradition, and is considered primarily important as the
site of activities which are non-Christian or non-Westem. The Vihara is represented to and by another less general, but nevertheless
influential, group of placemakers through scholarly texts and studies. Prebish included a description of the Vihara in his survey of American Buddhism in 1979, one of the earliest overviews of the subject. The Vihara also received mention in Rick Fields’ (1992)
narrative history of Buddhism in America, Prebish and Tanaka’s (1998) Faces of
Buddhism in America, and in Numrich’s (1996) comparative study of Theravada temples
in the United States. Most recently, the Vihara has been featured on a multi-media CD
project titled “On Common Ground” published as part of Harvard University’s Pluralism
Project which aims to provide an overview of the contemporary religious landscape of the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 145
United States (Eck et al. 1997). Within certain academic circles the Vihara is fairly well-
known, but it is often known mainly as a scholarly construction, notable for its historic significance rather than its day-to-day activities. Upon learning about my interest in the Vihara as a site of anthropological fieldwork, one Buddhist scholar proclaimed that the
place was, for all scholarly intents and purposes, “dead,” while another scholar, an active participant at the Vihara. declared Washington to be “a Buddhist backwater.” Both of
these scholars were situating the Vihara within a body of research and literature dealing with the topic, “Buddhism in America,” and in this context, each deemed the Vihara
fundamentally insignificant. This representation stands in sharp contrast to the very real, vital understandings of this place held by most of the Vihara’s participants, and highlights
the fact that all representations of the Vihara, my own included, are necessarily political acts aimed at influencing opinions about the Vihara and representing participants at this place. During my fieldwork at the Vihara, I was dubbed by one Sinhalese participant as
“the Vihara’s historian.” While this was not an entirely accurate description of my work, it highlighted his awareness of my role as a mediator between the world of the Vihara and
the seemingly distant but influential world of academia and Buddhist scholarship. I was expected to report to ’others’ what this place was. While some participants were leery of
me because of this role, most were eager to help shape a representation that would reflect their own interests and understandings of this place. As I wrote notes one day, a Sinhalese
man urged me to include him in my report, pleading, “Write something about me also!” Others attempted to screen certain activities, correct potential ’misunderstandings,’ or shift my focus to issues they considered especially important.
Some participants were keenly aware of my power (albeit limited) to represent not only this place but their own identity and culture as well. When I began scribbling notes
during a Sinhalese cultural event in which young people spontaneously began to dance, for
example, Rohana expressed dismay that I would include this incident as representative of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 146
“Sinhalese culture.” Others understood my work within the context of social science
research more generally and responded to me as such. Dan, who hesitantly agreed to be
interviewed for my study, explained that during the course of the previous month alone, he
had participated in three other social science surveys dealing with the topic of American Buddhism! In this way, participants acknowledged, responded to, and interacted with outsiders’ representations of this place and themselves, incorporating these representations
into their own narratives of the Vihara, appropriating them in their negotiations of social relationships, or challenging them through their placemaking activities.
Bifocal Visions of the Vihara In addition to engaging with outsiders’ narratives of the Vihara and representations of its participants, participants at the Vihara also encountered representations of themselves
and their world through a variety of mass media. Newspapers, radio, television,
magazines, books, brochures, and web pages offered an array of images and information
dealing with the on-going civil war in Sri Lanka, the rising interest among Americans in
Zen and other forms of Buddhism, and the dilemmas and opportunities faced by Sinhalese living in the global South Asian diaspora. These representations, the authorship of which
was often unknown, contributed to participants’ complex and shifting understanding of the Vihara and importantly, its place in the world.
Media images played a role in shaping participants’ experience of this place.
During one of my visits to the Vihara, a monk pulled a picture book off one of the
Vihara’s library shelves and opened it up to show me an image of a large standing Buddha.
The caption indicated that this ancient sculpture was located in Sri Lanka, but the monk
grinned and exclaimed, “That’s here!” Gesturing toward the Vihara’s backyard, he
reminded me of the six-foot tali bronze replica of this sculpture, which currently stands
beside a newly built fish pond at the back of the building. According to a history of the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 147
Vihara recorded for its 25th anniversary, the statue was originally exhibited at the 1967 Montreal Expo, then displayed in Quebec City for several months, before being donated to
the Vihara by the Government of Ceylon in 1968 (Roehm 1991). The multiple reproductions of this image, first as an ancient sculpture in Sri Lanka, then as a bronze replica displayed throughout North America, and finally as a photograph in a picture book,
allowed this monk to link the Vihara back to Sri Lanka, and even to the Buddha’s India,
while also making new sense of our location together in Washington, D.C. John Peters observes that much of our social world is depicted through mass media in the form of information, entertainment, and other “practices of social envisioning,” including the work of social scientists (1997:79). Modem forms of media allow people to
collectively envision real, but spatially and temporally dispersed, events of which they
would otherwise have no direct experience or understanding. As a result, Peters explains, the range of what is now ‘visible’ to most people is well beyond their natural ability to see:
“Part of what it means to live in a modem society is to depend on representations of that society. Modem men and women see proximate fragments with their own eyes and global
totalities through the diverse media of social description. Our vision of the social world is bifocal” (Peters 1997:79). Bifocality, in the sense Peters describes it here, is related to the notion of reflexivity. Participants at the Vihara were not simply aware of their social world
as it was represented to them through the media and through their discussions with one another, but they used this knowledge reflexively to construct new understandings of this
place and their experience in it. This was potentially useful in extending relations of
community and difference beyond the context of the Vihara. In recognizing that the
Vihara’s statue was a replica of an ancient sculpture in Sri Lanka, the monk then ‘re
presented’ the image to me, declaring that “that” was “here,” thereby locating us both in a
place that was simultaneously American, Sri Lankan and Buddhist.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 148
In the context of our modem world, a person’s sense of a place is shaped by factors well beyond personal knowledge, and yet places like the Vihara are often experienced as intensely local. In reality, participants experienced the Vihara as both a local setting,
perceived and encountered first-hand, and as a global phenomenon, created in part through the media and others’ representations. Their placemaking activities reflected and framed
their shifting knowledge and individual understandings of global forces, ideologies, and
events taking place well beyond their personal experience. Few events influenced
participants’ understanding of the Vihara more profoundly, or problematically, than the civil war that has plagued Sri Lanka since 1983.
Experiencing the Global through the Local
Among the most troubling concerns for both Sinhalese and Americans at the Vihara has been the civil war being waged between the majority Sinhalese government and
Tamil separatists in Sri Lanka. While American converts struggle with the reality of a Buddhist country at war, the effect of the war upon Sinhalese participants was often more immediate and personally tragic. While having tea one day, I listened as two women from
Sri Lanka introduced themselves and began to get acquainted. One woman was ethnically Chinese, but her family had moved to Sri Lanka after living for several generations in Australia. She had grown up in Colombo, so she spoke Sinhala fluently, much to the
delight of the second woman, a Sinhalese Buddhist from Kandy. Before long, the women
began to share stories about the war. The Chinese woman explained how her mother had been killed by a bomb exploding on the streets of Colombo. As she told the story, the Sinhalese woman nodded with recognition. She had heard about the incident from relatives living in Sri Lanka, and had wondered about this Chinese woman who had been “in the
wrong place at the wrong time.” She had been shopping with a friend, the daughter
explained, and had decided to cross the street alone to go to another store. Just as she got
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 149
to the other side, a passing vehicle was blown up by a suicide bomber. The explosion had
taken her mother’s life. Whenever possible, participants returned home to Sri Lanka for the funerals of family members who had died, occasionally, as in the case above, as a direct result of the
war. Some families could only afford to send one member back, or chose to send money
to relatives instead to assist them in the mourning rituals. Even when participants returned
for a funeral, “memorial services” were often held at the Vihara later to transfer merits to those who had died in Sri Lanka. According to Sinhalese Buddhist custom, these
ceremonies are held one week and then again three months after a relative has passed away.
Many Sinhalese Buddhists believe that their loved ones may benefit from the merits sent to them as they begin their next lives.
In addition to the death of loved ones, the civil war has had serious economic and
social ramifications for Sri Lanka. Personal damages caused by the war range from the loss of property to serious injuries caused by exploding mines. A collection was taken at
the Vihara on New Years in 1998 and brought to Sri Lanka by one of the monks to assist
the growing numbers of those who had been disabled in the war. Sinhalese Buddhists in America, including those at the Vihara, have also begun to raise funds for orphanages and
nursing homes in Sri Lanka, because the war has left many children and elderly without
care. Christian missions have been active in providing assistance within the war-ravaged country, but Buddhists fear that in many cases the price of this assistance has been
conversion to Christianity.
While American converts at the Vihara rarely felt the impact of the civil war as directly as their Sinhalese counterparts, some were deeply moved by the events taking
place there. One American women felt so compelled by the tragedies her friends were
facing that she telephoned a nationally syndicated radio talk show and urged the host to
conduct a program on the war in Sri Lanka. An hour-long program in which
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 150
representatives from both sides of the conflict were invited to speak was broadcast a few
weeks later. After visiting Sri Lanka and seeing the effects of the war for herself, another American sent one thousand dollars to a stranger she had met there. He used the money for plastic surgery to repair a disfigurement caused by the war.
Another convert attempted to raise the topic of the war duringsutta a class, but she was disappointed by the lack of concern among others in the group. She had recently read
a news item about the ‘Tamil Tigers,” the main group of separatists fighting the Sinhalese government in Sri Lanka, and asked the rest of the class what they knew about the
organization. One American responded, “Isn’t that the civil war?” Another joked,
‘They’re a baseball team!” When no one offered further serious comment, the woman
chided the group, insisting “We need to learn more about our Sri Lankan fhends!”
Voicing Views on the War Recently, American and Sinhalese participants horn the Vihara engaged in a
revealing discussion about the war via electronic mail.26 An inflammatory letter calling for
an end to negotiations and support for a military plan to “eradicate terrorism” in Sri Lanka
was sent by a Sinhalese activist to the Vihara’s head monk, who inadvertently forwarded it to everyone on the Vihara’s mailing list. An American convert responded critically to the
distribution of the letter, and reminded readers that ahimsa, or nonviolence, is a central
principle of Buddhism. This “call to arms,” even against so-called “terrorists,” was in his mind, not the act of a true Buddhist—an especially troubling situation since the letter had
been forwarded to him by a Buddhist monk. A Sinhalese Buddhist lay person representing “Our Heritage Foundation,” an international organization which claims to
oppose all forms of terrorism in Sri Lanka, responded with anger and resentment. He
26The following discussion includes excerpts from email conversations dated February 13 through February 17,2000.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 151
characterized the American convert’s concerns as “lopsided” and “prejudiced,” and criticized his “ignorance” about the realities of the war and its impact on the daily lives of
Sri Lankans. A second convert intervened in the exchange, suggesting that emotions may
be “clouding the otherwise calm minds” of the Sri Lankan people, and urging the
Sinhalese corespondent to “please, refrain from harsh speech toward other path- followers.”
The Sinhalese man responded candidly:
.. .most of the ordinary Sri Lankans have not seen anything other than the bloody terror unleashed by various forces, perhaps incomprehensible to many Americans, and therefore our immediate reaction to terrorism is anger and frustration. Most of us are Buddhists, bom and bred, and understand that hatred is not the answer for hatred but what other options are we left to deal with this menace? He went on to point out that “For some strange reason, issues at other regions [of the world] are addressed immediately by super powers but Sri Lanka’s plight has been totally
ignored for nearly 20 years.” “I understand the spiritual enlightenment you refer to,” he concluded,
but it is difficult for us to meditate on compassion while seated on a mine field. We cannot close our eyes to the plight of those children who get killed in dozens for belonging to a different ethnic group. We cannot remain silent when it happens to be our own country although we have a different skin color or we do not have oil reserves like Kuwait. We thank you for your compassion, universal love and above all for being kind enough to attempting to guide us along the proper path spiritually. We ask your forgiveness for not being able to share your views on compassion and love right now.
This frank and passionate exchange reveals a point of misunderstanding which
often underlies discussions between Americans and Sinhalese concerning the war in Sri Lanka. Americans are frequently critical of Asian Buddhists who fail to live up to
Buddhist principles of non-violence, mindfulness and compassion, and they interpret this
as failing to be true Buddhists. Sinhalese are often critical of Americans for ignoring the
suffering of Buddhists in Sri Lanka while similar problems are quickly addressed in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 152
countries where United States economic interests are at stake. Being a Buddhist, they suggest, is an on-going process—and a particularly challenging one in a world that is not
especially fair, compassionate, or supportive. In an open letter to the Vihara’s mailing list, the second convert issued a final
response acknowledging and empathizing with the suffering of the Sinhalese Buddhists:
“I find myself angered and horrified by the situation in your country, and I, too, must listen to my own advice.” He asked Sinhalese Buddhists to continue to “try to find
compassion,” noting that even trying “is very meritorious.” Finally, he assured Bhante D, who was understandably contrite regarding the letter’s mistaken distribution, that “this message has deepened the understanding of the Dhamma in some of us, and brought others closer to the teachings of Sakyamuni Buddha." This exchange of views, like other
conversations taking place at the Vihara, drew participants into a global dialogue about what it means to be a real Buddhist, and what constitutes suffering, compassion, and
responsibility. Such dialogues ultimately influence the meaning of the Vihara within a
much larger Buddhist context. Anthony Giddens observes that any new knowledge, whether it is received through
our own experience or through others’ representations, “does not simply render the social world more transparent, but alters its nature, spinning it off in novel directions” (1990:
153). The circularity of human knowledge inevitably results in unintended consequences, but it also provides opportunities for new interpretations to effect social change. Through their conversations and debates regarding the civil war in Sri Lanka and the nature of “real” Buddhism, participants at the Vihara came to understand these events and ideologies in new ways, affecting their participation at the Vihara. As they used that understanding,
reflexively, to define and influence the use of the Vihara, participants simultaneously influenced the very nature of those distant events and reinterpreted elements of Buddhist
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 153
thought. In this sense, placemaking at the Vihara functioned on multiple, mutually
influential levels.
Relating ‘the Local’ to ‘the Global’ Anthropologists have long been concerned with the face-to-face, everyday
experience of the local—what we “experience ourselves close-up.” but in recent decades,
researchers have shown that localized cultural experience is increasingly permeated by
global events, ideologies and social systems—what we experience through “globalizing discourses and images” (Peters 1997:81). Global networks linking people through trade,
alliances, and migration have for centuries had the effect of diminishing our sense of
physical distance. It is not until recently though, when global interconnections have become so extensive (and intensive), that the impact of ‘the global’ on ‘the local’ has become impossible to ignore, even in the most remote and seemingly isolated regions of
the world. The rise of global capitalism, the impact of industrialization on the environment,
and advancements in technology have effectively brought into contact, directly or indirectly,
virtually every person on earth. Recognizing the growing complexity of studying cultural
processes within such a context, Hannerz (1986) expressed the need for a “theory of complex culture” which would consider the embeddedness of localized cultural practice
within a global context of meanings and social relations. The topic of “globalization,” defined as a process of intensified social interaction and interconnection, has been
addressed in the scholarly literature in a variety of ways. Its effect on the local experience and reproduction of culture is of primary concern here.
The concentration of social, political and economic power in the West has led some
theorists to argue that ‘Western’ culture is effectively transforming local experiences throughout the world. Globalization, in this sense, is interpreted as ‘Westernization,’ or
more specifically, ‘Americanization.’ This argument suggests that as ‘Western’ ideas and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 154
practices spread rapidly across the globe, backed by the economic dominance of the United
States, we face the homogenization and commodification of human experience, along with
the loss of locally-constructed culture. ‘"World systems” theorists have described
globalization as a more complex process, taking into account the reality of multiple centers of power and cultural production. While continuing to stress the primacy of political and
economic forces, they argue that cultural meanings originate in dominant, shifting ‘cores’
and flow in a mostly uni-directional path toward places along the peripheries of power.
Despite the unprecedented force of global capitalism in the past few centuries, history shows that even dominant, globalizing practices and ideas originating in the West have been received differentially in non-Westem settings (Wolf 1982). People have
historically internalized, on a local level, the external meanings imposed upon them by forces of globalization. William Roseberry concludes that this process of “indigenization”
makes the localized effects of globalization unpredictable (1989). Cultural meanings, he points out, are not only received differentially in local settings, but are reinterpreted in ways
specific to the time, place, relations, and history of the receiving group. Reflexively
indigenized meanings then flow back into the global context, so they in turn affect other localized meanings.
This process of cultural exchange and reinterpretation across local-global levels is evident in the historical flow of meanings between Sri Lanka and the West beginning in the
19th century. During the British colonial period in Sri Lanka, Western scholars
reinterpreted and reformed Sinhalese Buddhism in such distinctively Western ways that modem Sinhalese Buddhism is often referred to as ‘Protestant Buddhism.’ At the same
time, Sinhalese Buddhist ideas and practices were introduced into Western settings where they became particularly popular among middle class Victorians in England before
spreading to America (Almond 1988). Sandra Bell reminds us that this was not a one
sided process in which Westerners “borrowed” or “plundered” Buddhism from passive
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 155
Asian Buddhists, but rather that cultural change occurred in both settings as the result of a process of mutual influence and reinterpretation (2000:6). This process continues today,
more quickly and dramatically, through places like the Washington Buddhist Vihara. The Vihara is constructed and given meaning through localized placemaking activities, but these
meanings articulate with other locally-constructed meanings through the powerful forces of
globilization. At the same time, through their placemaking activities, participants at the
Vihara are contributing to the overall flow of meanings—social, religious, and cultural—
which constitutes the shifting landscape of ‘the global.’
Cultural Construction in Globalized Settings
Models of local-global articulation and reflexive indigenization suggest the overall
potential in the world today for increased cultural heterogeneity, as well as homogeneity, as an effect of globalization. Even as certain ideas, practices, and cultural products are
becoming nearly ubiquitous throughout the world, there is a simultaneous increase in the array of cultural meanings and products available in any given local setting. Some
researchers have insisted that since cultural meanings are received differentially and always
reinterpreted at local levels, to speak of a single hegemonic culture spreading throughout the world is inaccurate and potentially disempowering. Human beings, they argue, are naturally creative and to the extent that global meanings are indigenized, even economically
and politically disadvantaged people can exert power through resistance and the
reinterpretation of globalized meanings. This accounts for the very different interpretations
of Buddhism, and other so-called world religions, that can be found around the globe
today. Because cultural meaning is never appropriated wholesale but is always negotiated and reconstructed at the local level, there is always the opportunity for the production (and reproduction) of highly localized meanings and practices. As Antonio Gramsci (1971)
observed, hegemony is never total.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 156
The role of human agency is clearly important in understanding the impact of globalization on everyday experiences, but as the negotiations described in Chapter Four
suggest, an emphasis on agency should not ignore the reality of inequalities or overlook the social forces and relations that continue to constrain all cultural processes, including the
production of Buddhist places. While there seems to be an infinite number of diverse,
cultural meanings emerging in the world today, the range of possible meanings may in fact be shrinking overall (Hannerz 1996: 24). Widespread interest in and emphasis upon
meditation as an essential Buddhist practice is in part the result of historical developments in Buddhism, but one should not overlook the influence of Western converts and other
powerful cultural elites in directing these globalizing developments. Hannerz (1996) has outlined a model for understanding globalization which looks
not just at the emerging dominance of a few cultural meanings, or the coexistence of many, but at the potential, given current conditions, for the creation of entirely new meanings. “In
the mingling of old, formerly more separate currents of meaning and symbolic form,” he argues, “new culture also comes into existence” (1996:25). The forces of globalization
function to bring into contact elements of localized culture which have been indirectly
influenced by one another in their development, but have never before been experienced in any direct, prolonged manner. The mingling in America at the end of the twentieth century of many kinds of Buddhism, not to mention many kinds of Buddhists and Buddhist
places, is an example of this recent phenomenon. These unprecedented incidents of
prolonged contact, Hannerz suggests, allow for new cultural meanings to emerge. Recent theories of contemporary ‘complex culture’ help to illustrate how prolonged
or intensified contact may open the door for the introduction of new cultural meanings. Appadurai argues that undercurrent global conditions, cultural forms are not only
interrelated and mutually influential, as models of globalization suggest, but they are also
“fractal” and “overlapping” (1990:20). He proposes that we consider local activities
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 157
within a context of global flows which are perceived as cultural landscapes, the product and building blocks of social experience. These “scapes” allow us to envision, for instance, the
global flow of people, money, technology, ideas, and media images within and through
localized contexts. The speed and nature of recent developments in each of these flows create “disjunctures” in which the contents of individual scapes shift in and out of
alignment in relation to particular people and places. The relation between people, place,
and culture therefore becomes even more complex and problematic. As a result of these
disjunctures, Appadurai (1990) argues, new meaning streams are introduced into the
highly localized cultural discourse of particular people in particular places.
Disjunctures in the Landscape of the Vihara Several factors suggest that the Vihara may be a particularly productive place for
constructing new meanings and introducing them into the cultural and religious landscape of America. The location of the Vihara at the intersection of a unique set of historical,
geographic, and social processes allows for participants here to exchange ideas and
practices, to negotiate persistent inequalities and stereotypes, and through their negotiations
to either challenge or reproduce certain meanings and relationships. The fact that American converts and Sinhalese Buddhists are participating at the Vihara together suggests the kind
of unprecedented, prolonged and direct encounter between “formerly more separate
currents of meaning and symbolic form,” which Hannerz (1996) argues may lead to the
production of new cultural meanings. In Appadurai’s (1990) terms, disjunctures among
global cultural flows which have accompanied the production of the Vihara are likely to allow for the introduction of new meaning streams into the discourse surrounding the
meaning and use of this place.
United States immigration policy has only in recent decades made it possible for
Sinhalese Buddhists to live in America, while advanced technologies, jobs markets, and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 158
modern media images have, for several decades, made such a move increasingly desirable. Americans’ interest in Buddhism as a spiritual practice and ideology has developed from
an early scholarly interest to a complicated mix of sincere dedication and practice, intellectual curiosity, and superficial fascination. The Vihara was established and continues
to function within a landscape characterized by shifting flows of people, technology, finances, images and ideas. These cultural flows, and the historical and geographic
sediment they leave behind, are constituted through and contribute to the ongoing
construction of seemingly natural spatialized concepts such as “the East” and “the West.” These cultural constructions in turn make it possible, and more importantly productive, to
distinguish between ‘ethnic’ Asian Buddhists and ‘white’ Buddhists, Sinhalese Buddhists and American Buddhists, Buddhist immigrants and Buddhist converts in America. While the flow of cultural scapes is perceived and experienced differently for each
participant at the Vihara, two incidents help to illustrate the importance of cultural
disjunctive for participants’ placemaking activity. In the first incident, a monk explained to me in the context of an interview that, long before quantum physicists understood the nature of reality, the Buddha saw that our bodies are made up of small particles which
come into and out of existence so rapidly we are not in fact solid at all. In pointing this out to me, the monk was suggesting that what the Buddha revealed centuries ago, and what the
Sinhalese have preserved and practiced for generations, is a transhistorical truth about the nature of reality which Western science is only now rediscovering. In the second incident,
an American convert similarly evoked the image of the Buddha as uniquely visionary, but with a slightly different effect. In speaking to a group of American college students visiting the Vihara, the convert shared the same story about the Buddha’s revelation regarding the nature of reality. In this case though, the suggestion was that despite
Buddhism’s association with “New Age,” mystical religious movements, the truth of
Buddhism is in fact supported by scientifically proven principles.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 159
In each case, the speakers were responding, reflexively, to disjunctures created by
the flow of technology (in the form of ‘modem’ scientific methods and principles),
ideology (in the form of Buddhist philosophy, New Age mysticism, and other forms of
spirituality), and people (in the form of immigrants, tourists, students, ethnographers, and Buddhist monks and missionaries). These flows create a highly disjunctive cultural
landscape in which Buddhism in America can be characterized as, on the one hand,
transhistorical spiritual truth, and on the other, scientifically-proven religious revelation. Both representations of Buddhism functioned to influence participation and placemaking at
the Vihara on a local level, but given the nature of the audience in each case (myself as a researcher in the first case, and a group of students from a nearby university in the second), each speaker was simultaneously contributing to the production of something which, on a
global level, might be characterized as “Buddhist culture.”
Producing “Buddhist Culture”
The mission statement for the Washington Buddhist Vihara describes this place as
“a religious and educational center,” the dedicated purpose of which is “to present Buddhist thought, practice and culture.” It aims to do this primarily through its resident
monks, who are “available to discuss the various aspects of Buddhism, teach meditation,
offer informal courses and by invitation, give lectures and meditation workshops at universities, schools, churches, and community groups.” It is possible to see how, through its array of activities and services, the Vihara fulfills its mission of presenting
Buddhist thought(s) and practice(s) to a diverse group of participants and others who might be interested. It is less clear, however, how the Vihara presents “Buddhist culture.”
As I have demonstrated in previous chapters, participants’ experience and
understanding of the Vihara is not only highly individualistic and contextual, but also
highly contested and bifocally produced. Much of what is experienced as culturally
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 160
meaningful is, as I suggest above, understood through the representations of others and through the media. Given this, it is clear that we cannot speak of “Buddhist culture” as something we find contained within or simply “presented” at Buddhist places. Instead, Buddhist culture is produced, in part, through the making of Buddhist places. To the
extent, and in the multiple ways, that participants at the Vihara reflexively experience,
represent and imagine the Vihara as “a Buddhist place,” they and others involved in
placemaking processes here are producing Buddhist culture. The Vihara is a potentially significant Buddhist place in that it is a productive place for the construction and dissemination of uniquely Buddhist meanings. Participants at the Vihara are not simply
presenting Buddhist culture, but are involved in a fundamentally political and social process
by which Buddhist culture is being produced, interpreted, and most importantly, lived.
The Vihara as a Lived Buddhist Place Participants at the Vihara are involved in a variety of highly individualized
placemaking projects, and yet it is possible to observe at the Vihara a persistent and pervasive 'structure of feeling’ which gives one the sense that this is a Buddhist place. This structure of feeling is created collectively through participants’ placemaking activities,
which are simultaneously local in experience and global in perspective. Peter Jackson (who borrows the phrase from Raymond Williams) describes a structure of feeling as “the particular quality of social experience and relationship” which gives us a “sense of place”
(Williams 1977 as cited by Jackson 1989: 39). Like Bourdieu’s ‘habitus,’ this sense of
place is built up through “the sedimented history of particular practices that arise to meet certain objective conditions and which thereby serve to reproduce these conditions”
(Bourdieu 1977 as cited by Jackson 1989: 39).
Jackson notes that “form and convention provide one of the most significant clues
to the recognition of a particular ‘structure of feeling’” (1989:39). Indeed some
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 161
participants pointed to elements of the physical, built environment as important in setting the emotional tone and structure of this place. One Sinhalese man told me, in regard to the
shrine room, “When we see the statue, we know we need to be respectful in this room.” The design of the Vihara’s statue, he explained, “is so beautiful, it makes you peaceful.”
Other participants noted the familiarity of the Vihara’s physical setting, particularly the kitchen, as important to their sense of this place. One convert explained. “I feel like this is
a real familiar place and I feel at home, like I can go in the kitchen and open the refrigerator and you know things, so, it feels like home.” For others, the physical design of the place was insignificant compared with its overall atmosphere and actual use. Rohana observed,
for instance, ‘This is just a common house, right? Nothing special.” He expects that the
new site being planned by the Vihara Society will be more conducive to Buddhist
meditation practice, and therefore offer “a good environment” for a temple: “Because it is nice, quiet area, more land and more space. Calm. Silent.”
Despite its ordinary appearance and multiple uses, there is a sense in which the
Vihara is recognized by most participants as distinctive, and somehow characteristic of a
Buddhist temple. Aleisha described a vihara as:
a place where people know intuitively that this is a good place to come. And it’s not about necessarily personalities. I mean even though personalities, you learn and deal with it. You know there’s conflict, there’s um, people being very giving, but it takes place in a center where people intuitively know it’s a spiritual place. It’s a good place. It’s a holy place.
This sense of place is also the result of placemaking processes.
David Harvey (1989) suggests that placemaking involves three types of spatial
practice: “material spatial practices” through which a place is experienced, “representations
of space” through which a place is perceived, and “spaces of representation” through
which a place is imagined (1989:218). Just as representations of a place can constrain
material spatial practices within it, “spaces of representation... have the potential not only
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 162
to affect representation of space but also to act as a material productive force with respect to
social practices” (Harvey 1989:219). The ways the Vihara is imagined have an effect on
how it is experienced and perceived. More importantly, the ways the Vihara is imagined can also have an effect on the ways participants live, extending the significance of this
place well beyond the physical setting of the Vihara itself. Consider for instance the comments of one convert, when asked about the effect that participating at the Vihara has
had on her life:
Well, it’s had a lasting effect I know in that even if the Vihara picked up and moved tomorrow I would always carry with me in my heart what I have learned and the,.. .the feeling of being there and being around the monks, that feeling is one that I can take with me anywhere.... Sometimes I actually think, if I’m stressed out or something I think, “Well, would the monks think this is just a really silly thing to be stressed out about?” and most of the time the answer is “Yeah.” And I think it’s just a, um, just sometimes a subconscious process of trying to incorporate that into myself, that “well if this is a really silly thing to be stressed out about, then why am I stressed about it?" Or if I’m meditating at home then I’ll think of the atmosphere of the Vihara when I’m meditating there. And even though I haven’t participated in meditation there [for several months]... I can still uh, carry that feeling with me home, when I’m meditating, or I should say I can um, I can envision being there and I can attempt to feel the same calm feeling of being in that place at another time. The Vihara structures the imaginations of its participants, which in turn structures
their experience of the world beyond the Vihara. Together, these participants are creating what Appadurai calls “imagined worlds”—“multiple worlds which are constituted by the
historically situated imaginations of persons and groups spread around the globe” (1990:
7). As Appadurai observes, “An important fact of the world we live in today is that many persons on the globe live in such imagined worlds (and not just in imagined communities)
and thus are able to contest and sometimes even subvert the imagined worlds of the official
mind and of the entrepreneurial mentality that surround them” (1990:7).
In the concluding pages of this chapter I will suggest that as participants strive to
put Buddhist beliefs into practice, they are introducing new meanings into the cultural and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 163
religious context of America and contributing to the production of an alternative, Buddhist, worldview. The basic tenets of Buddhist philosophy paint a worldview which stands in sharp contrast to what might be characterized as a “Western” or “global” worldview.
Buddhism posits that everything is impermanent, that all things are interconnected and
interdependent, and that as such, there is no permanent autonomous “self,” only the temporary experience of thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations. In practical terms,
these tenets contradict what many people hold as basic assumptions about life. We live
with the expectation that the chair beneath us is solid, that there is a natural separation between it and our own bodies, and that contained within these bodies are independent, identifiable persons or “selves.” As the Buddhist tenets are realized, theDhamma teaches,
they can result in a profound transformation of one’s world, and ultimately its transcendence. As participants at the Vihara collectively strive to put Buddhist beliefs into
practice, they produce, through their material practices and representations, a structure of
feeling which can be considered characteristic of a Buddhist place. In doing so, they also contribute to the production of an alternative imaginative world in which one might imagine themselves and distant others as interconnected and interdependent. While this
alternative world may not itself benibbana , living in and through such an imagined world may indeed be personally, spiritually, and socially transformative. In this sense, the
production of a Buddhist place can be recognized as a form of subtle, but powerful,
cultural resistance.
Buddhist Wavs of Being in the World
At the Vihara, three themes characterize a structure of feeling associated with this place and contribute to an imagined world in which participants may begin to live: an
appreciation for “noble silence,” the cultivation of “Loving-Kindness,” and the encouragement to “see for yourself.” These Buddhist ways of being in the world are some
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 164
of the new cultural meanings being introduced into the cultural and religious landscape of America through places like the Vihara.
Noble Silence In practice, “noble silence” referred to the respectful quietude with which one was
expected to conduct oneself while at the Vihara. This was often communicated as a verbal request to “Please observe noble silence” while other participants were meditating or while
the monks were resting. For a while, a sign was posted on the door to the Vihara asking visitors to observe noble silence when they entered the temple on evenings when
meditation classes were held. Meditation was itself described as a kind of noble silence in which one sits quietly, but more importantly, mindfully. In this sense, noble silence might
also be applied to a more general attitude and decorum considered appropriate for the development of insight.
One Sunday afternoon, following the devotional service, three Sinhalese women began to make tea. After one of them had brewed the tea, another added milk to it. By accident, she added too much, so the third woman brewed more tea, reusing the old tea leaves. Bhante A, who usually made tea for us after the service, and who was widely
regarded as the Vihara’s best tea maker, looked on with frustration at the messiness of the women’s process. Later that afternoon, he offered to make me another cup of tea. My
first tea, he complained, “had too many cooks to be any good!” As I watched in silence,
he brewed a fresh pot of tea, then carefully adding exact proportions of milk, sugar, and
other ‘special’ ingredients, he served it to me in a cup cleaned and warmed under hot water. His process was quiet and calming; he moved carefully and intently but with remarkable ease—and his tea was indeed the best I have had. This too was noble silence.
Not everyone at the Vihara appreciated noble silence in the same way, but it was an important way through which participants interpreted one another’s actions, and therefore
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 165
provided a structuring sense of this place. During a break in one annual ceremony, Dipa expressed to me and another American woman her disapproval of the behavior of a few Bangladeshi children who were running and playing in the shrine room. “Sinhalese
children know better than to act like that at the temple” she complained. “Why don’t their
parents tell them to be quiet?” The other American woman laughed and shrugged it off, pointing out that they were, after all, just children. She urged Dipa not to let it bother her.
Over the next few minutes though, Dipa became so upset over the children’s conduct that
she decided to get up and tell their parents to make them stop. The American woman responded with sympathy, and a slight bit of amusement. The children were not the
problem, she explained. Dipa had caused her own mind to be disturbed.
Loving Kindness Loving-Kindness (imetta) functioned in a similar way among participants: as both
an interpretive device and a structuring practice. Bhante D first introduced me to the idea of
Loving-Kindness during a meditation class in 1993. After we had sat in meditation for several minutes, he struck the bell beside him and explained that we would now practice
“Loving-Kindness meditation.” Following his instruction, we recited a short verse together: “May all beings be well, happy, and peaceful.” We recited this verse out loud
several times, then he instructed us to repeat it to ourselves silently for a few minutes,
“concentrating on good thoughts.” Afterwards he explained that Loving-Kindness
meditation is usually done in the morning so that it works throughout the day. It “makes it hard for you to hate,” he said, and easier for others to like you. As evidence of the
technique’s efficacy, he told a story about when he was a young monk. He had gotten into
some trouble and was going to have to face his teacher, so he practiced Loving-Kindness meditation all day long. To his delight, he explained, “It worked!” His instructor gave
him a piece of chocolate, but reminded him that Loving-Kindness meditation was not to be
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 166
used in that way. While Bhante D’s story suggests that Loving-Kindness can have an almost magical effect, other references suggest that this was not its only function. In a speech published in the Vihara’s monthly newsletter, The Washington Buddhist, in 1999, Bhante D again referred to Loving-Kindness. In the midst of the
ongoing dispute pitting lay participants against members of the Vihara’s leadership (see
Chapter Three), Bhante advised his critics that
To point out someone’s fault can be a meritorious deed or ankarma evil [intentioned action]... .Criticism is very good when it is constructive and appliedMetta with [Loving-Kindness]. The same criticism can be destructive when applied with hatred and thoughts of revenge. He went on to advise those who had been accused of wrong-doing that they should consider the reason for such accusations. One should ask: “Why am I accused of something I did not do? My conclusion is that ’I must have made allegations against
others in one or more of my previous births.’ This is the Buddhist way of thinking.” “If you think in the Buddhist way,” he continued,
there will be no room for hatred in your mind towards the poor accusers who accumulate evil karma. Instead you will be able to generate compassion towards them, because they will suffer in this life and beyond... If I loath them, I will be acquiring evilkarma for myself and suffer more in thesamsdra [this world]. This is one of the ways a Buddhist can stay unruffled. In this sense, Loving-Kindness provided a framework for interpreting others’ actions as
well as potentially influencing them.
Loving-Kindness is a central teaching in Theravada Buddhism. It is described in the Pali Canon as the first of four brahmavihara (divine abidings), or ways to live in this world (the remaining three being compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity). In 1995,
Sharon Salzberg, a popular American teacher in the Theravada tradition, published a book
on metta titled Loving-Kindness: The Revolutionary Art of Happiness. The idea seems to
gaining popular recognition in America, just as the concept of “compassion” was
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 167
popularized in past decades through the teachings of Zen and other Mahayana schools. In
a collection of readings titled Vandana: Buddhist Devotions.27 printed for use in the Vihara’s devotional services, there is a verse titled “Sharing Loving-Kindness” (Buddhist Vihara Society 1981). The prayer begins as follows:
MayI be well, happy, and peaceful. May no harm come to me, May no difficulty come to me, May no problem come to me, May I always meet with success, May I also have patience, courage, understanding, and determination to meet and overcome inevitable difficulties, problems, and failures in life.
Subsequent verses replace “I,” in turn, with “my parents,” “teachers,” “relatives,”
“friends,” “all indifferent persons,” “enemies,” and finally “all living beings.” According
to a longtime participant of the Vihara, this was the first version of this Buddhist prayer to
be printed in the United States. Since then, this Loving-Kindness prayer has appeared in a variety of religious and secular contexts. It was recently printed, word for word, on a
program distributed at a Christian woman’s funeral, under the heading “An Ancient
Prayer.” One of the Vihara’s monks explained to me that the woman had once been an active participant at the Vihara, and though she had not visited in many years, she requested that her relatives distribute the Loving-Kindness prayer at her funeral. Like noble silence, Loving-Kindness was understood by participants in many
different ways. During one of thesu m classes, participants read a section from The
Itivuttaka titled “The Development of Loving Kindness” (The Udana and The Itivuttaka
1997). Over the course of the class, the group repeatedly returned to a discussion about the
27In the Introduction to this text,vandana is translated literally as “bowing down.” The word is used, the author explains, “to signify the heart's response to the highest objects of veneration” including “feelings of faith, reverence, and love” as well as “the acts of homage, bodily and verbal, which express them.” Ideally, “these two aspects fuse together into a unity, the feeling spilling forth into the act and the act giving concrete form to the feeling” (1981: IH)
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 168
meaning of Loving-Kindness. An American man interested in comparative religion
suggested that it was a reformulation of the Golden Rule (“Love your neighbor as
yourself’). Another convert, noting the order in which beings are wished well in the
printed version of the prayer, suggested that the point of the teaching was that in order to
offer Loving-Kindness to all, one must first begin by wishing it for oneself. The class leader cautioned that in “the true practice ofmetta bhavana (Loving-Kindness meditation)”
one “gives up the words” at some point in the practice. Otherwise, he pointed out,
meditation would simply be a kind of “minor psychotherapy” involving the recitation of affirmative thoughts. According to the sutta, Loving-Kindness is more than simply a
moral rule or a prayer to be repeated mindfully. When cultivated as a way of being in the
world, the sutta suggests, Loving-Kindness is more meritorious (producing more good
kamma and therefore spiritually advancing) than any other practice taught by the Buddha. “The mind-release of loving-kindness surpasses them and shines forth, bright and brilliant” (The Udana and The Itivuttaka 1997: 169). It is in this sense, as a spiritually
productive or “mind-releasing” way of abiding in the world, that Loving-Kindness most clearly constitutes a structure of feeling in which participants make sense of their own and
others’ placemaking activities at the Vihara.
See For Yourself
The final theme I encountered which characterizes the sense of the Vihara as a Buddhist place involves the encouragement that one should “see for oneself.” On an
everyday basis, this message was conveyed in the openness participants exhibited toward
my inquiries about their activities. When I asked about a particular event I was inevitably urged to see it for myself, rather than to take others’ descriptions or explanations at face
value. When I noticed a group gathering in the Vihara’s basement on Sunday afternoons
to practice fora Sinhalese cultural performance, for instance, I asked one of the monks
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 169
about it. “Go down and see for yourself,” he encouraged. When I asked a Sinhalese woman about another Buddhist temple she and her husband attended, she invited me to
“Come with us and see.” This insistence on “seeing for oneself’ is consistent with the
Buddha’s teaching that one should not place faith in any spiritual teaching, even his own, without having experienced its benefits for oneself. The goal of Buddhism, it is often said, is “to see things as they really are.”
According to Buddhist legend, the historical Buddha, Sidartha Gotama, was bom into a
wealthy family in ancient India. Anticipating his son’s potential as a great leader,
Sidartha’s father shielded him from the reality of human suffering, and instead provided
him with the luxuries suitable for a future king. One day Sidartha took it upon himself to travel outside the gates of his father’s palace where he saw for himself the suffering caused by illness, death, and old age. Deeply moved by what he saw, Sidartha began his lifelong
quest to see the Truth, embarking first on a path of harsh asceticism before finally settling
into the “Middle Path” that would eventually give rise to his teachings.
Sidartha’s experience was echoed in the stories told by many Sinhalese immigrants and other participants who had traveled widely and seen for themselves the realities of human suffering. After one Sinhalese woman returned from a three-month trip to Sri Lanka—the longest she had been back in her native country in twenty-three years—she
struggled with her new perspective on reality. If you think of it in Buddhist terms, she
said, it doesn’t matter where you are: “East or West, home is home.” Wherever you are, people are suffering. “You see a rich person, and you think how nice it would be to have
their life, but when you talk to them, you realize they have problems too. Everyone has
problems.” During a day-long meditation retreat at the Vihara, Bhante K told the group
about a sermon the Buddha preached to a man he met along the road. “When you see
something,” the Buddha had said, “stop and see it. When you hear something, stop and
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 170
hear it.” Similarly, the Buddha explained, when you taste, touch, or think something, stop and taste, touch, or think it. “That,” Bhante explained, “is the end of suffering.” “Seeing for oneself’ involved not just experiencing, but also accepting, things as
they really are. The morning after the fire occurred at the Vihara, I stopped by to “see for
myself’ what had happened there. I met Bhante D as he was arriving from the airport (he had been out of town when the fire occurred), and walked with him around the block to the
front of the building. Upon seeing the charred back wall of the Vihara, I felt deeply
saddened and upset. Bhante D smiled and said to me, “See! Everything is impermanent!” Where I had “seen” a tragedy, he saw and accepted the truth of the Buddha’s teachings.
Living in a Buddhist Way
Living in a Buddhist way does not imply a blissful escape or disengagement from
everyday experiences that cause suffering, or for that matter, happiness and joy. The
problems of the world, as well as its pleasures, were felt intensely by participants, especially as they confronted an increasingly complex world and experienced, day-to-day and face-to-face, cultural encounters that were relatively new and unexpected. For many
participants though, Buddhism provided an alternative means of understanding these experiences and offered an interpretation of the world that guided the way they lived. Bhante A spent many hours helping me to learn Sinhala in exchange for my
occasional help with his English class assignments and personal writings. We shared a
love of language, so our sessions often developed into conversations about the marvelous variety of human communication. On one occasion, Bhante A asked for my opinion on a speech he was preparing for the Sri Lankan Independence Day celebration to be held in
Washington. In the speech, he praised a number of Sri Lankan heroes involved in the independence movement, one of whom had inspired him to study language at the Bhikkhu
Training Center. At the time of independence, Cunaramatunga had encouraged the use of
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 171
Sinhala over English throughout Sri Lanka, and Bhante A found his argument quite compelling. For the Sinhalese, he explained, Sinhala is part of “who you are,” just as the
Chinese are Chinese because they speak Chinese, and the English are English because they
speak English. In Sri Lanka today though, Bhante said, many Sinhalese people speak English because it has become a status symbol. He felt that this indicated a very bad trend.
In response, I pointed out the inherent conflict in wanting to protect and preserve
one’s identity through language while also wanting to be able to communicate with others,
especially in an increasingly international marketplace which often requires competence in English in order to secure a good job. Many observers agree that the Sinhala-Only policies which were instituted in Sri Lankan schools beginning in the 1960s have had largely negative consequences on the Sri Lankan economy, creating a significant class division
between those with English competence and those without. In addition, the lack of
advanced scholarly texts printed in Sinhala has left even the best-prepared Sinhalese
graduates less competent in their Helds than those with English training (Tambiah 1992: 126-127). Bhante acknowledged these problems, adding that Cunaramatunga had once
created and promoted the use of a new international language in an attempt to level the
playing field worldwide. It never caught on, he admitted, because of peoples’ desire to protect their own identity. As we talked, Bhante A grew visibly troubled by the apparent incompatibility of these concerns. He rubbed his forehead deeply as if to iron out the
wrinkles emerging along his brow. Eventually, he concluded, this is “a problem of this world.” This is why we need to “go above it,” he explained, by practicingDhamma. the
“Going above” the problems of the world does not eliminate those problems.
From a Buddhist perspective, it merely allows one to see things as they really are, with the recognition that the source of all suffering is in attachment to impermanent things,
including our own sense of self. Such a radical shift in perspective is not easily
accomplished, nor does it result in a dispassionate disengagement from ongoing events in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 172
one’s life, or even in the world beyond one’s personal experience. In fact, as participants attempted to incorporate the Buddha’sDhamma into their lives, the result was often a very troubling recognition that some “problems of this world” are not easily resolved.
After a group of Tamil separatists bombed Daladathe Mdligawa, Sri Lanka’s most sacred Buddhist temple, in 1998, Dipa struggled to explain the situation to me: “It’s a small country,” she said, sighing. “It can’t be divided. It’s just too small, you know?”
But then, shifting her feet and looking back into the room where we had been meditating together, she said “I’m not attached to any country. Wherever I am living, that is my
country.” She reminded me, and perhaps herself, of the Buddha’s teaching that we should avoid becoming attached to impermanent things, and that words like ‘my’ lead to
problems. Her comments suggest that for her, striving to live in a Buddhist way was not
without contradiction and at least some degree of inner conflict. Still, Buddhism provided
a means for dealing with that inner conflict by illuminating the source of her suffering. Buddhism is an ideology—a set of ideas, practices, beliefs and understandings
about the world and beyond. But it is also an intrinsic part of a social, political, and economic order, and in that sense, Buddhism and “Buddhist culture” are continually being materially produced and reinterpreted through the cultural construction of Buddhist places.
The philosophical tenets of Buddhism, along with concepts such as noble silence, Loving- Kindness, and the belief that one should “see for oneself’ are among some of the cultural
meanings that are being materially produced, in shifting and contested ways, through
placemaking activities at the Vihara. Through their production of this place, participants at
the Vihara are introducing these new meanings into the religious and cultural context of
America, where they intersect and articulate with other locally produced meanings. Placemaking, in this sense, is not confined to the process by which participants define and
use the Vihara as a local setting. It also involves the on-going construction of seemingly natural and self-evident categories such as “Sinhalese Buddhisf ’ and “American convert,”
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 173
and places like “the East” and “the West,” which link people, culture, and place in highly problematic ways.
Warner observes that in the multicultural and religiously pluralist environment of the United States, bridges are being built to narrow the gaps between people perceived as
fundamentally different, but it is the construction of difference itself which demands further examination. “Bridges are constructed. But so is difference. And we can learn better how
to construct difference in less alienating ways” (Warner 1997: 234). The ‘Buddhist ways
of being’ through which the Vihara is produced as a Buddhist place are aimed at realizing the truth of the Buddha’s teachings, namely that our world is interconnected and
interdependent, and ultimately the product of our own making. The Vihara is therefore a
place in which one might begin to see difference differently—to appreciate diversity as
spiritually and socially productive, and to recognize difference and community as the products of ongoing cultural processes.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. CHAPTER SIX CONCLUSION
Revisiting Difference In this dissertation, I have begun to problematize and examine the processes by which cultural difference is constructed, contested, negotiated, and understood—to
consider, in other words, diversity in practice. This study focused on the ways participants at the Washington Buddhist Vihara defined and used this place, but in doing so, it aims to address a larger argument: namely, that one’s sense of a place and connection to it are not
the product of a neutral, underlying spatial order, but are constructed and understood
through existing hierarchical connections. The assumption that people, place, and culture are naturally and unproblematically linked has led to the seemingly common-sense notion that Buddhist immigrants and converts constitute naturally distinct and separate
communities. In fact, places like the Washington Buddhist Vihara demonstrate that there
is at least some contact between these groups, and that relations of community and difference among them are not simply the outcome of their separate histories and
geographies, but are the product of on-going social processes and interactions. Summarizing this research, I have shown that participants bring to the Vihara a
diverse array of needs, interests, experiences, and abilities that influence the ways they
define and use this place. As they came together to worship, practice, study, and socialize,
immigrants and converts constructed shared narratives about the Vihara, which were
reflected in their interpretations of placemaking activities. I found that participants made
strategic use of placemaking narratives to negotiate relations of community and difference
174
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 175
within and through existing hierarchies. At the same time, participants experienced,
perceived, and imagined the Vihara bifocally, in the context of global events and ideologies. Because placemaking processes functioned on multiple levels, participants’ local
placemaking activities articulated with, and contributed to, the overall flow of meanings which constitutes the globalized cultural and religious landscape of America. Through the cultural construction of the Vihara as a lived Buddhist place, some participants are
developing and promoting a worldview in which connectedness, rather than separateness,
is understood as underlying reality. These findings prompt at least two questions: First, what makes it possible for a place like the Washington Buddhist Vihara to accommodate so many different people and practices? And second, how might this study of placemaking at the Vihara further our
understanding of cultural diversity and the changing landscape of American religion? In
the remainder of this chapter, I will discuss possible answers to these questions.
A Comparative Look at the Vihara The answer to the first question—how the Vihara accommodates such diversity—
seems to lie in the unique historical and geographical background of the Vihara, in the individual ‘habitats' of the participants themselves, and importantly, in the on-going social and cultural processes though which participants are defining and using this place. When
the Vihara was established in 1966, it was created in the context of new patterns of
Sinhalese immigration to the United States, Americans’ rising interest in Eastern religions, and a complex intersection of emerging technologies, economic opportunities, and new
communicative possibilities. Americans and Sinhalese participating at the Vihara today
continue to negotiate their identities and orientations to the world through the sedimented histories and geographies of previous placemaking processes.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 176
The Vihara currently provides a wide range of services and fulfills multiple functions which reflect the diversity of its participants. The ambiguity of the Vihara’s mission has led some observers to suggest that as an organization, the Vihara lacks focus, which in turn makes it difficult for participants to move forward on specific goals. In
many ways, little has changed since 1979, when Charles Ptebish, in his survey of American Buddhism, concluded that it was “difficult to interpret the work of the Buddhist
Vihara Society with any accuracy, for there seem to be very many contradictions in their
activities” (1979: 102). This ambiguity, which on the one hand seems to hinder participants’ ability to take decisive action in a single direction, may also be what allows
them to create, experience, and promote effective and meaningful visions of their world
and their orientation to it.
To understand the significance of the Vihara in this light, it is useful to consider briefly, for the purpose of comparison, the histories, geographies, participants and placemaking processes of some other Buddhist places. During the course of my fieldwork, I visited three other Buddhist centers, each of which was established by
Sinhalese immigrants in North America after 1980. These centers serve congregations
which intersect, and in two instances, overlap with that of the Vihara. In contrast with the Vihara’s multiply understood mission and diverse array of participants and practices, each
of these centers is narrowly focused to appeal to the specific interests or concerns of a particular group of participants.
The Bhavana Center
The Bhavana Center is a Buddhist retreat center established in 1984 by Ven. Henepola Gunaratana, a Sinhalese monk with a prominent reputation in America as an
insightful and compassionate meditation teacher. Bhante G, as he is fondly referred to,
came to the United States in 1968, after working for fifteen years in India and Malaysia.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 177
He served as the Washington Buddhist Vihara’s General Secretary for ten years before being appointed its third President and abbot. During his tenure at the Vihara, Bhante G earned his Ph.D. in philosophy and became the first Buddhist chaplain to serve on a university campus in the United States. He published several articles and books, including an accessible guide to Buddhist meditation titled Mindfulness in Plain English (1992).
Through this popular book, meditation courses at the Vihara, and lectures and retreats
around the country, Bhante G gathered a large following of mostly non-Asian converts. In 1988 he left the Vihara to devote his efforts to a new retreat center, dedicated to meditation
training and practice, tucked away in the mountains of West Virginia. The Bhavana Center occupies a beautiful setting on thirty-two forested acres, eighty
miles west of Washington, D.C. The Center’s main building, which contains the kitchen and meeting hall, has been added upon and now features a library, a greenhouse, single-sex
dormitories, and a large shrine room. From the outside, the wooden buildings painted barn-red appear functional but unremarkable. Upon closer look though, one finds exceptional details: solar panels heat and cool the shrine room, a long hallway with windows looks out onto a gurgling fountain, and the gloriously lit shrine room features
a cathedral ceiling and a beautiful stained glass window depicting a single bodhi leaf.
Bhante G and an American monk at the center completed most of the design and construction themselves.
Visitors travel from quite far away to worship and participate in annual holy day ceremonies at the Bhavana Center, but it mainly functions as a meditation retreat center. In
addition to the dormitories, individualkutis (huts) house approximately fifty people during
retreats. Special youth sessions, women’s gatherings, and thematic retreats, lasting between two days and one month, are held over the course of the year at no charge; the
center operates solely on donations. I attended a three-day retreat at the Bhavana Center in
1997. At that time, there were five monks (including Ven. Gunaratana) and two nuns
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 178
staying at the center, along with several lay residents. Over the course of the retreat, forty lay participants took the eight Buddhist precepts and agreed to maintain noble silence
(interpreted as abstaining from unnecessary speech, writing, and reading). The group practiced walking and sitting meditation for several hours each day, listened to sermons on Theravada Buddhist doctrine, and spent a short time mindfully preparing meals or
performing daily maintenance work at the center. Each participant met with Bhante G for a
thirty-minute consultation during the retreat to discuss individual meditation practices. The
vast majority of participants were white and middle-aged, split almost equally between men and women. Bhante G maintains his home-base at the Bhavana Center, but he returns to the
Vihara occasionally to participate in annual ceremonies, and continues to travel around the
world to lecture and teach meditation. Whether he is addressing beginners or more advanced students, his message is clear: the Dhamma is something to be practiced daily. Once while addressing an audience of mostly Sinhalese Buddhists, Bhante G pointed out that there is no such thing as a ‘bom Buddhist,’ only those who practice the Dhamma and those who do not. He advises students to practice mindful breathing for one minute of
every hour they are awake, and to begin and end each day with meditation. One non-Asian American student in the Vihara’s sutta class often brought a well-worn copy of
Mindfulness in Plain English to class with her. She had attended a retreat at the Bhavana Center eight years ago, she told me, and had continued to practice meditation on her own.
Until she began taking the sutta study class in 1998, this text had been her only guide; it
had apparently been enough. The Bhavana Center is particularly popular among American converts and sympathizers because of Bhante G’s focus on meditation practice, his down- to-earth lessons, and his sense of humor and compassion.
Despite his mainstream appeal as a meditation teacher (and his liberal position on
the ordination of Buddhist nuns), Bhante G remains quite orthodox in his approach to
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 179
Buddhist doctrine. During a lecture for the Insight Meditation Society, a group of mostly non-Asian followers who sit together regularly near Washington, D.C., he apologized for
his frequent reference to Pali terms. It was part of his training as a Theravada monk, he
explained, to return to the Buddha’s own words in order to remain true to his teachings.
During the retreat I attended, Bhante G gave a sermon on the topic of “sudden
enlightenment.” Enlightenment is always built upon a gradual and disciplined practice, he
explained, and one should be suspicious of those who claim to have reached enlightenment
suddenly but temporarily, only to seek to return to some impermanent state of bliss they believe isnibbana. Such claims are evidence of our ability to delude even ourselves, he suggested. In an interview with the editor of Tricycle magazine, Bhante G explained his
own mission as a Buddhist teacher:
There are so many things around the true dharma. And people can easily get deluded, confused, and misled by those very many, many varieties of things. The Buddha said very clearly, “Until artificial gold appears in the market, pure gold shines. As soon as the artificial gold appears in the market, nobody knows which is pure gold, and which is artificial.” So I want to show people this pure gold, so that they cannot be deluded by everything that glitters. That is my purpose (Tworkov 1995:41).
The Bhavana Center serves this specific purpose by providing American converts
and sympathizers with access to the Buddha’s ‘true’ Dhamma, as Bhante G understands it,
through intensive meditation retreats. Although puja offerings are made daily at the
Center, and the monks occasionally chant Pali verses, it mainly serves those interested in meditation as a primary Buddhist practice. During retreats, the emphasis is on principles
and practices related to meditation, rather than onsutta study, moral lessons, blessing
services, or other activities which are offered at the Vihara. Because of its rather remote location, the Center does not have a local congregation in the sense that the Vihara does,
and there are no regularly attended weekly classes or services. Sinhalese and other Asian
Buddhists often make a point to visit the center on holy days, but retreats are dominated by
non-Asians. The primary function of the Bhavana Center is to provide a spiritual retreat
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 180
where westerners can become acquainted with the philosophy of Theravada Buddhism and the practice ofvipassana meditation.
The International Buddhist Center Despite its name, the International Buddhist Center is predominantly supported and attended by Sinhalese Buddhists, most of whom live nearby, in a suburban neighborhood
just a few miles from the Vihara. The Center’s abbot, Bhante U, is a former student of Bhante G’s. He performed religious services for Buddhists living in the area for several
years before setting up the International Buddhist Center with help from his brother-in-law
and other friends.
Officially established in May 1998, the International Buddhist Center occupies a single family house, which has recently been expanded to include a second story and a first floor addition. A letter-sized printout of a Buddhist flag taped to the window and a small pottedbodhi tree in the front yard mark this place as a Buddhist temple. When I first
visited in 1997, the front room had been transformed into a familiar-looking shrine room.
Cushions lay on the floor facing a small Buddha statue, placed on a semicircular table draped in red fabric. The statue was surrounded by small votive candles and vases of
flowers, and a halo of multi-colored lights flashed in alternating patterns around its head. A large glass jug filled with coins sat beside the shrine, and a sign attached to it read
“Donations are welcome.”
Along one wall, a bookrack displayed texts from the Buddhist Publication Society in Sri Lanka. On top of the book rack were several photographs, including one in which the Vihara’s monks were pictured standing in front of the International Buddhist Center’s
shrine. Only three monks resided at the International Buddhist Center so monks from the
Vihara and other nearby temples were often invited to perform certain services. Since the
additions were made to the building, the shrine has been moved to a larger room and the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 181
front room is now used to greet visitors. There is a small kitchen at the back of the building, and the resident monks currently occupy the rooms upstairs.
In a speech at the International Buddhist Center’s opening ceremony in 1998,
Bhante G pointed out that there were now thousands of Sri Lankans living in the Washington, D.C., metropolitan area; “[We] need two temples,” he said, so that everyone
can continue to providedana, perform rites, and practice theDhamma. The International
Buddhist Center and the Vihara nevertheless seem to rely on overlapping resources for support and participation. Neither goes out of their way to advertise services at the other temple, and their weekly group meditation sessions are scheduled on the same night. Otherwise, though, there seems to be little direct competition between the two centers.
Each temple coordinates the observance of annual holy days so that the timing of
ceremonies does not conflict, and monks and lay people regularly participate in ceremonies
at both temples. The main activity at the International Buddhist Center, which is not regularly
performed at the Vihara, is an hour-long nightly chanting service performed by resident monks. Lay participants are invited to attend these chanting sessions, and many do,
especially on weekends. Lay people are also involved in providingdana for the monks,
but on weekdays the monks usually prepare their own meals. According to Bhante U, the monks at the International Buddhist Center perform other services, including chanting for blessings, providing consultation to lay people, and occasionally performing social services
like visiting the sick. Before coming to the United States, Ven. U worked in hospitals in
Sri Lanka, a day care center in Tokyo, and an orphanage in Calcutta. The monks at the International Buddhist Center are not able to help in these sorts of services, he admits,
because they are a small group and they are too busy serving the Buddhist community’s
basic religious needs.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 182
Bhante U confirmed that the congregation at the International Buddhist Center consists mostly of Sri Lankan Buddhists. Some Vietnamese Buddhists participate at the Center because it is conveniently located for them, and a few non-Asian converts come
irregularly, but by 1997, approximately fifteen Sinhalese Buddhist families had moved into
the neighborhood immediately surrounding the Center, and they constitute its main participants. Over the course of my fieldwork, I observed that a number of Sinhalese
participants from the Vihara also participated in activities at the International Buddhist Center. Some of them preferred the International Buddhist Center because it was more
convenient, or because its smaller size allowed them to be more involved in daily activities
there. One Sinhalese man preferred the International Buddhist Center to the Vihara because he enjoyed a personal relationship with one of the monks, and so he felt more “at home” there. A Sinhalese woman suggested that the monks there had been more willing
to meet her request for a special merit transfer ceremony, and generally treated her with greater respect and personal attention than she received from monks at the Vihara. The
International Buddhist Center may also appeal to those who prefer a less formal atmosphere. During my visits, lay people moved freely throughout the building, and
during one ceremony, children were encouraged to play upstairs in the monks’ quarters.
During annual ceremonies, the International Buddhist Center attracted as many as
ISO participants over the course of a day. Overall, these participants appeared younger than
participants at the Vihara, and they represented a more recent cohort of immigrants. When asked to describe the International Buddhist Center’s congregation, participants who visited
both the temples suggested that the International Buddhist Center attracted “a certain type of person,” mainly “young women servants,” housekeepers and unskilled workers, whose
status and security is generally less certain than those of participants at the Vihara.
These observations suggest that the International Buddhist Center functions mainly
as a local, ethnic, and perhaps class or caste-based temple. It provides a convenient,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 183
familiar setting where new immigrants in particular can continue to receive traditional life
cycle blessings, listen to Pali chants, and perform merit making rituals. Because of the
relatively small size of the congregation, lay people can take an active role in temple affairs and the monks seem especially responsive to lay people’s needs. Bhante U provides outreach to non-Asian Americans interested in Buddhism through his role as Buddhist
chaplain at a nearby university (a position he inherited from Bhante G), and through the
small Buddhist book service run by the International Buddhist Center. He also expressed interest in performing social service work when, and if, it became possible for the
International Buddhist Center monks to do so. For now though, the main function of the International Buddhist Center is to provide for the traditional ritual needs of those Sinhalese
Buddhists newly arrived in the area.
The West End Buddhist Center The West End Buddhist Center is located nearly five hundred miles from the Vihara, in Mississauga, Ontario, a western suburb of Toronto. Like the Vihara, the West
End Buddhist Center occupies a large but ordinary-looking house in a residential
neighborhood. Inside, a large shrine room features a raised shrine with a white Buddha
statue seated on a platform surrounded by flowers, candles, and other ritual objects. Oriental rugs are placed over red carpet on the floor, and a string of small colored lights decorate the opening to the shrine. Another large room containing a couch and several
cushions is used for consultations between the monks and lay people. Like the Vihara,
the kitchen at the back of the house is a popular gathering spot for tea, snacks, and informal conversation.
The West End Buddhist Center conducts many of the same services as the Vihara.
Annual ceremonies are held in observance of Buddhist holy days. Lay people regularly
providedana for the monks, and visit the temple to performpuja and receive blessings.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 184
Meditation sessions are held weekly, and a lay person conducts classes in Buddhist scripture and philosophy. One young monk residing at the temple serves as Buddhist chaplain at the University of Toronto and is very involved in organizing inter-Buddhist
activities there. Occasionally, visiting monks are invited to giveDhamma talks and meet with lay people to discuss issues of personal concern. Bhante M, the dynamic and dedicated abbot and founder of the West End Buddhist Center, spends his days answering
phone calls, visiting lay people’s homes, and organizing the affairs of the temple. Bhante M established this temple in 1991, in response to events that occurred in Sri Lanka and Toronto in the late 1980s. When he arrived in Toronto in 1986, he recalled, there were only fourteen Sri Lankan families living there. He was staying at the Toronto Mahavihara, a Sinhalese-run temple in Scarborough (an eastern suburb of Toronto) when
Sinhalese and Tamil refugees from the civil war in Sri Lanka began arriving in large
numbers in 1989. Many of the newly arrived came to the temple seeking help beyond
religious services. Bhante M’s efforts to help a family with several children by providing
them with a financial “advance” was deemed inappropriate behavior by the leaders of the Mahavihara. They felt he should leave the temple, he explained, so he did. Some Sri Lankans living west of the city supported Bhante M’s efforts to help the arriving refugees,
and together they established the new temple. Bhante M continues to provide assistance to new immigrants through a network of
support linked through the West End Buddhist Center. As one lay participant explained:
Bhante M knows what people can do. If he asks someone to give rides, he won’t ask them to bring food as well. If someone is rich, like a doctor, he asks them for a donation. If they’re poor, he asks them to come for the day and work on the garden, then he gives them meals and food to bring home. Bhante M is “a very good organizer.” He’s the “middle person. You can help me, but if you don’t know me, how can you help?" If we both know the priest [Bhante M], you can help me. For instance, if your TV breaks, you can get it fixed, but Bhante M might know someone who can do it cheaper. Same with when your car breaks down.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 185
Her husband had gotten his job this way, she explained, “through the temple.” A friend from his childhood had found out through Bhante M that he was now living in the area, so he offered him a job.
I visited the West End Buddhist Center on two occasions: for a weekend in October 1997 and for four days in May 1998. On both visits, Bhante M arranged for me to stay with a Sinhalese family affiliated with the temple. He assured me that I would
always have a place to stay here, noting “we [at the temple] have many houses.” A young Sinhalese man I met during my second visit had been staying at the temple for nearly a month. He came to Toronto with the address of a contact from Sri Lanka who was living
in Scarborough, but when he arrived at the address, he found the person had moved. He
called the temple and told the abbot that he had nowhere to sleep and nothing to eat. Bhante M let him stay at the temple, got him a job, and was in the process of arranging a place for
him to board permanently. Newcomers and refugees often have difficulty understanding the application process for government assistance so they have few resources other than the temple. As Bhante M explained, they may not want to admit to other Sri Lankans that they need basic
items like food and clothing, but “they’ll talk to the monks.” They remember his help, and they give back to the temple when they are able. In this way, Bhante M has created a
network through which the spiritual and survival needs of the Sri Lankan community in
and around Toronto are met, and everyone seems to benefit. As one participant explained, the temple provides blessings for wealthy people who are interested in securing spiritual
merit, but it also connects them with house sitters and other helpers. Poorer people can get food, jobs, housing, rides, and work through the temple. Even non-Buddhist Sri Lankans make use of the temple’s network. A Sinhalese Catholic man I met had called the temple
on the advice of a Sri Lankan friend. Bhante M connected him to a Sinhalese Buddhist
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 186
family looking to board someone for extra income. The arrangement worked out well for both of them.
The Vihara’s monks visit the West End Buddhist Center once each year for an annual ceremony, and West End Buddhist Center monks are often invited to participate at
Vihara activities. Many of these monks, including the abbots of both temples, studied
together at the Bhikkhu Training Center in Sri Lanka. Through that center, they maintain
contact with fellow monks in New York, Michigan, and California, as well as other
temples around the world. Monks and lay participants at the Vihara also have relatives and friends who now live in Toronto and participate at the West End Buddhist Center. One
participant from the Vihara, a well-educated Sinhalese man, moved to Toronto in 1996
after struggling for three years to find a job requiring his skills in Washington, D.C. The
Sri Lankan community was much larger in Toronto, he explained. He already had some friends living in the area, and the West End Buddhist Center had helped him make valuable contacts and secure a good job.
Bhante M laughed when I asked him if this was the life he had envisioned when he
first became a monk. He always liked helping people, he said, but establishing a temple like the West End Buddhist Center had not been an entirely conscious decision. Lay
participants also indicated that the West End Buddhist Center served an unexpected, but uniquely valuable, function as a resource center and network for Sri Lankans in the area.
One lay person told me, “people in Sri Lanka say you don’t need a temple, that it’s just an
expense. But it is necessary,” she insisted. “It’s different than in Sri Lanka. There, the people have temples. Here, the temple has people.” While certainly participants benefit from the spiritual lessons and religious rituals that constitute Buddhist practice at the West
End Buddhist Center, the primary function of the center is to provide access to a network
of Sri Lankan immigrants, and all of the opportunities, responsibilities, and benefits that access entails.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 187
Comparing Adaptive Strategies Williams (1996) observes that there are six “adaptive strategies" evident in the approaches taken by immigrant communities in establishing religious (and even secular)
organizations in America. These strategies are typically employed in combination to meet
the variety of challenges faced by immigrant communities at a particular time and place. The six strategies he describes are: individual, national, ecumenical, ethnic, hierarchical, and
denominational. For example, when confronted with language difficulties, generational
misunderstandings, organizational problems, or a lack of resources in their new cultural
context, immigrants may choose to emphasize an individual approach to religious practice,
or they may construct their own ethnic-based churches, thereby emphasizing an ethnic
approach to adaptation. Immigrants may rely on a particular hierarchical tradition to guide them in making accommodations to the new religious environment, or they may establish
denominational, ecumenical, or national groupings to help cope with cultural changes associated with immigration. As analytical concepts, these six approaches to adaptation
are useful in comparing and contrasting the Vihara with the three Buddhist centers described above.
Immigrants at the Vihara employ a mix of adaptive strategies depending on their abilities and interests in a particular situation, but the emphasis among both immigrants and
converts at the Vihara today is on cultural pluralism, which may reflect the ecumenical
approach used by Sinhalese immigrants in the establishment of this place. Williams (1996) finds that an ecumenical approach to adaptation is typically taken when the immigrant group affiliated with a particular religious tradition is relatively small, making it
necessary to cooperate and share resources with members of other related groups. This
was certainly the case in 1965 when a handful of Sinhalese Buddhists joined forces with Americans and other Asian Buddhists to establish the Buddhist Vihara Society.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 188
As the population of an immigrant group increases, Williams (19%) predicts that
they will tend to break off into separate groups, employing an ethnic, national, or
denominational strategy. This seems to have been the motivation for the establishment of the International Buddhist Center by recent cohorts of Sinhalese immigrants, which, as I
suggested above, exhibits a mostly ethnic strategy of adaptation. As new immigrants arrived from Sri Lanka during the 1980s, their numbers became sufficiently large that they
could support a more exclusively Sinhalese ethnic temple. Perhaps too, the tensions created by multiple cohorts of immigrants has created schisms which are resolved by the
establishment of a new temple. The West End Buddhist Center was established in response to the needs of a fairly large group of Sri Lankans who arrived within a relatively short time period and under dire
conditions. It is noteworthy that at the time of their arrival, there was already an established
Buddhist temple in Toronto serving Sinhalese immigrants. Participants supported the efforts of Bhante M to establish a new center because he helped the arriving immigrants
regardless of their religious affiliation, and to some degree even their ethnicity as Sinhalese
or Tamil Sri Lankans. In this sense, immigrants employed a largely nationalist approach,
rather than a denominational or ethnic approach, in creating the West End Buddhist Center.
The Bhavana Center, on the other hand, is quite clearly representative of an
individualist strategy of adaptation. The emphasis on meditation and personal mindfulness
practices over collective rituals points to the highly individual approach to Buddhism promoted through the Center. Bhante G is reported to have insisted that the Bhavana Center, from its start, would not be “an ethnic temple.” Williams (1996) suggests that an
individual strategy of adaptation frequently leads to a more diverse organization, and it is
noteworthy that the Bhavana Center attracts many more American converts than any of the
other centers discussed here, including the Vihara. Because this is primarily a retreat center, participants do not visit on a regular basis; it is expected that they will continue their
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 189
practice independently at home or in small sitting groups after participating in a weekend or
week-long retreat. Both Sinhalese and American Buddhists who visit the Bhavana Center
reported that they maintained home practices and home shrines. Again, this is indicative of
an individual strategy of adaptation. The Vihara is unique among all of these Buddhist centers in that its immigrant founders initially took an ecumenical approach to adaptation, and the leadership has largely
tried to maintain an ecumenical emphasis. Denominationalism played a role in identifying
this as the first Theravada temple in America, thereby distinguishing it from other Buddhist
centers, but over the years the Vihara has remained fairly open to Buddhists from other
traditions. A hierarchical strategy is implied by the continued close relationship between
the Vihara and the Bhikkhu Training Center in Sri Lanka, and by the assignment of resident monks through that center, but participants are generally ambivalent about the
continued benefits of this approach for the Vihara’s future.
There is an acute tension between participants who advocate a more individualist strategy of adaptation (as reflected in demands for a meditation center like the Bhavana
Center to be built close to the city) and those advocating an ethnic strategy of adaptation (as reflected perhaps in the establishment of the nearby International Buddhist Center). The
leadership of the Vihara has attempted to maintain a balance between individual and ethnic strategies, and to downplay denominational and hierarchical strategies, mainly by focusing
on the original strategy of Buddhist ecumenism. This approach has led to an overriding
concern that the Vihara remain ethnically and culturally pluralist. The careful balancing act required to maintain the pluralist character of the Vihara is
illustrated in two incidents involving seating arrangements at the Vihara. On one occasion, a visiting American nun had been seated alone in the kitchen for dana while the other
visitors, all monks, were seated together in the basement. Bhante K reported to me, with
some regret, that the nun had been upset by this arrangement and refused to eat. The lay
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 190
people servingdarn that day had all been Sinhalese, he explained, and they would have
strongly disapproved of the nun joining the monks while eating since this practice was customarily prohibited in Sri Lanka. Controversy over the validity of the Theravada lineage of nuns also made this a problematic situation. On another occasion, while having
tea, a Sinhalese woman suggested that there needed to be a low bench installed in the
Vihara’s kitchen so that lay people could sit and talk with the monks without having to
break the Buddhist custom prohibiting them from sitting at the monks’ level. Aside from there being no room for such a bench, Bhante K informed her that Americans might find this practice offensive. Given their concern for equality, he said, some Americans may ask
“Why should I sit below the monks?” These day-to-day placemaking decisions were guided by a variety of concerns, but maintaining an open environment for all Buddhists to
practice seemed to be an especially important one.
In most cases, tolerance was advocated in place of either strict religious observance or the reproduction of cultural practices that might reinforce ethnic boundaries. “Everyone
must be welcome” was a common response among participants when faced with a
dilemma regarding conflicting placemaking practices. The future of the Vihara seems to lie
in its participants’ tolerance for multiply understood and multiply practiced approaches to Buddhism, and the monks and lay leaders seem to recognize this. Following a ceremony
attended by a diverse group of participants, which had included the traditions of Buddhists
from Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Vietnam, Burma and America, Bhante D proudly observed, as if it were a declaration, “This is an international Buddhist place!”
Cultural Diversity and Religion in America The second question posed at the beginning of this chapter asks: How might this
study of placemaking at the Vihara further our understanding of cultural diversity and the
changing landscape of American religion? To answer this question, it is useful to first
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 191
consider what some researchers are saying about American religion generally. Tweed argues that diversity has long been a feature of American religion, and in fact, he suggests,
“diversity is not just one feature of the religious landscape. It is the major one” (1997: 202). In the past, European immigrants contributed new elements to American religion by introducing new denominational forms, national traditions, and languages. The new Asian
immigrants, those arriving since 1965. not only bring new religious forms, but entirely
new religions, and new ethnic and cultural forms. Warner suggests that in America, ‘‘the master function of religion” may be to provide “social space for cultural production" (1998a: 202). By providing safe space for constructing identity and negotiating social
relations, religion may help to foster cultural diversity in this country.
Religion has historically provided an means of adaptation for newcomers to America. Williams (1988) has shown how recent immigrants from India and Pakistan,
like immigrants from Europe in previous decades, use religion to negotiate a balance between assimilating to the new culture of the United States and maintaining aspects of
their identity over time. An increasing amount of research has begun to look at religious
practice and change among immigrants from Asia and Latin America (Warner and Winner 1998). These studies show that immigrant religion provides an accepted means of
interacting with the larger society, and helps newcomers make a place for themselves within the increasingly multicultural context of America.
Considerably less research has focused on the affect that new immigrants are
having on American culture and the American religious landscape, especially as immigrants from Asia introduce relatively new religious forms and meanings into the American consciousness. Williams’ (1996) study of Christian immigrants from India, in
which he demonstrates that Indian forms of Christianity are transforming American
Christianity as a whole, is one notable exception. Tweed (1997) notes that some
researchers have considered the influence of Asian religions on American art and literature,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 192
but gauging the affect of Asian religions on the everyday experience of Americans is more difficult to evaluate. Many more Americans are becoming vegetarians, taking yoga classes, doing walking meditation, and learning to practice mindfulness. These changes,
though difficult to link to any specific religion or religious group, reflect the pervasive
influence that Asian religions are having on American culture today. Furthermore, changes in the American religious landscape must certainly be having a reciprocal affect on religion
in Asia, as transnationals move between places, bringing with them new experiences and
understandings, and as global media transport ideas and images from America to the East and back again. This study has only begun to address these larger, and much neglected,
religious and cultural concerns. Nevertheless, this dissertation does point to some important findings related to religion in America, which may in turn further an understanding of cultural diversity. Tweed (1997) has suggested that paying close attention to the practices and problems of
Asian immigrants in America alerts us to three themes that are useful in understanding and
analyzing American religious culture more generally. Asian religions, he argues, highlight
the importance of place, identity, and contact, themes which are overlooked when attention is focused, as it often is, on Judeo-Christian traditions in America. In the following pages, I will use these themes to summarize the findings put forth in this study of the Vihara, and
to suggest how these findings further an understanding of changes occurring in the
religious and cultural landscape of America. In the process, I will show how the Vihara, and places like it, help us to see that cultural differences, including seemingly natural distinctions between Sinhalese and Americans, ethnic and white Buddhists, insiders and
outsiders, and even ‘self and ‘other,’ are fundamentally cultural constructions, negotiated
and reproduced in part through the production of religious places.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 193
Place Place has been a recurring theme in American religious history, according to Tweed (1997), but one which has been insufficiently examined. Early in American history, the
frontier shaped ideas about religious destiny, and religion continues to be influenced by assumptions about place: cities are described alternatively as sites of civility and
enlightenment, or of unrestrained evil and corruption; the countryside is alternately seen as
“God’s country,” idyllic and peaceful, or as primitive, harsh, and spiritually backward. By
focusing on the symbolic aspects of religious places, researchers have also considered the role of religious architecture and landscape, and the significance of ‘sacred space.’ Tweed
(1997) argues that Asian religion in America alerts us to the importance of place in entirely
new ways. In particular, he suggests that attention to Asian religion reminds us of the
importance of domestic space (as opposed to public places of worship) and the significance of displacement.
This study has focused on a rather public place of worship, but it is clear that in the
lives of many Vihara participants, public and private spaces of worship are intertwined in
complicated ways. Many of the Vihara’s participants reported having a home shrine. These private spaces of worship took a variety of forms: one Sinhalese woman displayed
on a shelf a collection of over twenty Buddha statues she has received as gifts over the
years; two American converts created a calming arrangement of rocks they found at a lakeside; in one Sinhalese home, a statue of Ganesh (a Hindu god), a small Buddha statue,
an oil lamp and a large photograph of Sai Baba, a popular Indian guru, have been arranged
as a shrine on a small table in the living room; and one American man simply places his cushion “in a spot where the air is good.” Participants chanted, read, lit candles or
incense, performed rituals and meditated at these various “shrines.” Participants reported
practicing in other “private” places as well: one American convert practices walking
meditation on his way to work; another uses mindfulness to remain calm during rush hour
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 194
traffic. A Sinhalese woman practiced Loving Kindness in her office when a co-worker was inconsiderate. Importantly, these private practices uniquely complemented and
intersected with their more public practices at the Vihara. As one convert explained: “if I’m meditating at home then I’ll think of the atmosphere of the Vihara when I’m meditating there.... I can envision being there and I can attempt to feel the same calm
feeling of being in that place at another time.” In their day-to-day lives, participants are expanding the sacred space of the Vihara, and blurring the line between the Vihara as a
public sacred space and the more private sacred spaces of their homes, offices, cars,
and neighborhoods. Displacement has also been a significant feature in this research. Sinhalese
immigrants who participate at the Vihara have been displaced from their Sri Lankan homeland, and the Vihara played an important role in helping them to negotiate this transition. Reasons for displacement were varied: some immigrants came for school or
job opportunities, some joined relatives already living here, some were carrying out temporary government assignments, and some can be described as “voluntary exiles”
escaping the violence of the war (Numrich 1996: xix). For many, migration involved a series of displacements. One woman moved to Malaysia and then to Japan before arriving
in the United States. Others lived in Afghanistan, England, Canada, India, and the
Maldives. Before arriving in Washington, immigrants reported living in Florida, Texas, New York, Massachusetts, and Hawaii. Networks of Buddhist temples, which included
the Vihara, provided connections between these distant places which helped link Sinhalese immigrants to their homeland as well as to others living in a diaspora which now has
worldwide dimensions. The importance of religious places in bridging the distances
created by global migration is one significant finding of this research.
Other Asian immigrants participating at the Vihara belonged to similar, overlapping movements of people. For those who had no ethnic temple of their own, the Vihara
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 195
provided at least some sense of continuity in that religious rituals, familiar and meaningful
in their homeland, could be performed here in much the same manner as they had in Asia. For the monks, displacement is an essential and characteristic feature of their lives. Since
sedentarism often breeds attachment, the Buddha urged his monastic followers to resist
putting down roots in one place. As Bhante D liked to explain, “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” Displacement, in this sense, provided a valuable lesson in impermanence.
Displacement was also a factor in the lives of many Americans at the Vihara, for whom Washington was just one of several places they had lived. While some converts
reported that they grew up in this area, and some even lived in the Vihara’s neighborhood, the majority arrived in Washington after living in other states and countries. Many reported that they were currently separated from close family members by long distances.
Washington is known for being a very transient city, mainly among its white, middle-class
residents, but even in this context, those who participated at the Vihara seemed to reflect an
especially high level of displacement and isolation. Some researchers have suggested that
Buddhism (and perhaps religion in general) is most attractive to those who lack
fundamental support systems associated with the family and the home, namely those who feel physically, socially, and spiritually disconnected and displaced (Hammond and
Machacek 1999). This suggests the importance of religious places in establishing a sense of personal connection in an environment characterized by both mobility and diversity.
Placemaking itself may also be an important feature of religion in America, and one
which deserves special attention in regard to Buddhist places. As a process of defining and using a place, placemaking points to the constructedness of all places and the negotiated
quality of all social relations. The meaning of sacred places, distinctions between public and private spaces, and even the qualities we attach to being from “the East” or “the
West,” are the product of cultural processes and not inherent to places themselves. As this
study shows, these meanings develop within the context of historical and geographic
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 196
sediment left by previous social processes, but they are continually reproduced and reconstructed through on-going negotiations at religious places.
Identity Identity also emerges as an important theme in American religion when viewed
through the lens of Buddhism and other Asian religions. Tweed (1997) points out that in
addition to ethnicity, class, and gender, age is an especially important factor in constructing identity within the context of Asian religion in America. Immigrants are often especially concerned with intergenerational issues in their churches. This is in part because
immigration tends to reinforce and accentuate age-related differences such as language
competence and changing cultural tastes. Younger generations tend to acculturate more easily to the new culture, often losing their ability to speak in their native tongue, and older
immigrants worry that future generations will fail to embrace the community’s values.
As their memories of Sri Lanka faded and their competence in Sinhala weakened, many Sinhalese immigrants relied on the Vihara to help them maintain their ethnic and
religious identity, and more importantly, to help them pass their values on to their children. Participants brought letters written in Sinhala for the monks to translate for them, and
parents often looked to the Vihara to introduce their children to Sinhalese language and culture. Older immigrants who came to the United States through family reunification
programs took comfort in the opportunities the Vihara provided to socialize in a familiar
setting; their new lives in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., often left them feeling
culturally and socially isolated. Immigrant children who had spent their formative years in
Sri Lanka (or Bangladesh or Vietnam) faced significantly different issues than those who had grown up in the West. Parents of both groups looked to the Vihara for guidance in raising good Buddhist children in America.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 197
Most of the converts at the Vihara were middle-aged adults, often single, and few
participated in services or classes with other family members. Converts were therefore far
less concerned with meeting the needs of the elderly and youth, two groups who continue to be underserved by the Vihara. A few younger American converts currently participate with their spouses and some couples have recently become parents. It will be interesting to
see whether this development leads to greater attention among converts to generational issues, and what affect that may have on their placemaking activities at the Vihara. This study has also pointed to the complicated ways that religious and ethnic
identity articulate with class, race, gender, and social status. The extent to which participants emphasized their religious or ethnic identity was often influenced by unequal relations among Buddhists worldwide. The history of Buddhist scholarship highlights the
important ways that interpretations of Buddhism reflect changing social values. During the colonial period in particular, Western interpretations of Buddhism reflected and in many cases reinforced growing inequalities between the peoples of the East and the West. These relations continue to be worked out in places like the Vihara, as individuals make choices, based on their abilities, constraints, and opportunities, about the identities they claim for
themselves and the orientations they project onto others. Tweed (1997) suggests that Asian religions also highlight the hybrid, incomplete,
and situational character of religious identity in America. Indeed, Buddhists have a long history of embracing other religious traditions, and tolerating eclectic combinations of religious beliefs and practices. As I struggled one day to respond to a Sinhalese man’s
question regarding my own religious identity (I was baptized and raised as a Catholic but
also consider myself a Buddhist practitioner), he suggested nonchalantly “Maybe you’re
bi-religion!” hi America, it is estimated that there are now close to two million Buddhists,
but this does not take into account many more who might be classified as Buddhist
sympathizers, non-sectarian meditators, or those who create highly individualized spiritual
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 198
programs drawn from a variety of religious traditions, whether intentionally or not.
Americans in the sutta class often caught themselves reading the Buddhist texts through an
intellectual and emotional framework that was shaped by their own Jewish and Christian backgrounds, or even by previous training in Zen or other Eastern traditions. Sinhalese Buddhists were likewise influenced by their religious background, including “Protestant”
interpretations of Buddhism propagated by early Western scholars and religious reformers in Sri Lanka, and more recent interpretations of Buddhism tied to Sinhalese nationalism.
Participants also combined Buddhist beliefs in highly individualistic ways with forms of bhakti devotionalism, belief in the power of crystals, twelve-step programs, martial arts philosophies, and astrology. Both converts and immigrants acknowledged the influence of
a variety of belief systems on their religious identity. The significance of this finding is that
it alerts us to the fluid, contextual, and often ambiguous nature of religious identity in
America. As this research has shown, religious identity is best understood as a situational, strategic orientation to the world, constrained but not determined by global forces including
racism, post-colonialism, and shifting economic inequalities. This study has also demonstrated the heterogeneous character of groups labeled
“Sinhalese Buddhists” or “American converts.” Members of these groups are often assumed to share common identifying features when in reality individuals bring a wide range of experiences, perspectives, capabilities, needs, and interests to bear on their religious practices. The variety of interpretations or narratives which participants applied to
the Vihara clearly illustrate this point. Other social categories, such as “converts,”
“sympathizers,” “bom-Buddhists” and “ethnic Buddhists,” are similarly ambiguous,
making it necessary to consider these identities as strategic orientations rather than inherent
qualities. While identity constructions may constitute a claim to a particular culture or community on the one hand, they are also an effective means of marking boundaries and
excluding "others’ by defining them as different Relations of community and difference,
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 199
which are closely linked to identity, can not be explained by history or geography alone, but are influenced by on-going negotiations and future goals.
In addition to these findings, this research suggests that Buddhism itself challenges
common assumptions about identity by insisting that “the self’ is an impermanent and essentially contingent phenomenon. Buddhism does not posit any unifying, immortal
spirit; rather all beings are thought to be the product of past processes which are subject to
the kammic law of cause and effect. Buddhism teaches that suffering results from our attachment to a self, and our inability to recognize our true nature as fully interdependent
beings. In the highly individualistic context of American culture, where the existence of an everlasting soul or spirit is held by many to be a religious truth, the notion of the self as
impermanent and contingent is a fairly revolutionary concept. Even as an incomplete
endeavor, the renunciation of the self, as Buddhism teaches, has the potential to transform American consciousness and alter its religious and cultural landscape.
Contact
The third theme which Tweed (1997) argues is highlighted by Asian religion in America is the significance of contact. America, the land of immigrants, has long been
fundamentally understood as a place of contact. Historically, slavery, trade, colonialism and immigration brought Europeans into contact with Africans, Asians, and Native Americans, and these first encounters continue to influence social relations in America
today. Drawing upon a concept introduced by Mary Louise Pratt (1992), Tweed (1997)
suggests that within this country there are political, social and geographic “contact zones”
in which power and meaning are negotiated between newcomers and more established groups of Americans. The field of American Law, for example, constitutes a contact zone
in which immigrants request citizenship, negotiate land use policies, and reinterpret the
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 200
meaning of “separation of church and state.” Popular culture constitutes another contact zone in which immigrants both absorb and contribute ideas, values, products and practices.
Buddhism, and religion in general, may constitute an important contact zone in
America. It is only in recent decades that the full array of Asian and Western Buddhist practices and philosophies, as they developed over the past two thousand years, have come
together in one place. American Buddhism now includes all the major expressions of Buddhism, and practically all the different kinds of Buddhists, known in the world today.
As previously more separate streams of cultural meaning and previously more separate groups of people come into contact, there are inevitably points of misunderstanding. The
Americans and Asians who participated at the Vihara together experienced many incidents
of “culture contact” in which they confronted unfamiliar ideas, foreign tastes and practices,
different languages and skin colors, and new perspectives on the world around them. They used placemaking activities to express their diverse values, challenge one another’s views,
negotiate relationships, make compromises, contest or reproduce inequalities, and initiate
or resist changes. Through this encounter, and in these ways, participants at the Vihara are
introducing new meanings into the religious and cultural context of America. While the Vihara is somewhat unique in that it serves both Americans and Asian
Buddhists, its participants represent a challenge to the idea that there is a clear “gap” between converts and immigrant Buddhists in America. The notion that there are two
fundamentally distinct Buddhisms in America overlooks the reality of those who inhabit or
cross over the boundary between ethnic and American Buddhism, and those who do not fit
neatly into either category. In fact, as this research has shown, there is considerable diversity with these two groups, and at least some overlap and points of contact between
them. Buddhist temples and clergy effectively link otherwise “parallel congregations” of
immigrants and converts. Even relatively isolated groups of Buddhists, across America
and around the world, encounter one another through media images, literature, courses in
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 201
Buddhist studies, conferences, pilgrimages, newsletters, and the worldwide-web. It is
through these multiple points of contact that a “gap” is continually being reproduced and reconstructed. To the extent that differences between immigrants and converts do exist,
these differences are made meaningful through contact.
At the Vihara, American converts and ethnic Buddhists exhibited many of the
religious and cultural differences noted by other researchers. Their understanding and experience of these differences reflected their different historical trajectories, but they also
reflected shifting social relationships and articulated with messages received through globalizing media. This study demonstrates that these differences were not the natural
product of participants’ historical separateness, but rather of their ongoing encounters and negotiations. As Gupta and Ferguson (1992) suggest, relations of community and
difference are created not in spite of separation or contact, but rather “within the historical processes of a socially and spatially interconnected world” (1992:18). Finally, this research challenges the notion of contact itself. Just as Buddhism
highlights the problematic assumptions underlying concepts of identity and self, the Buddhist concept of “dependent arising” suggests that everything is interconnected and
interdependent, and therefore always, at least indirectly, in contact. According to Buddhist
Dkanuna, nothing arises without the necessary conditions for its existence, and nothing is
eliminated as long as those conditions remain. To speak of a cultural encounter or a zone of contact is, in this sense, merely to highlight an existing connection, while to speak of a gap is to deny any connection at all. Rather than pointing to the historical separateness of
immigrant and convert Buddhists then, as explanation for their perceived differences, a
more productive approach to resolving the misunderstandings and inequalities that
currently exist among Buddhists in America today might be to explore the processes supporting the continued production of a gap between these two groups.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 202
Redefining Pifference One afternoon in May, 1998,1 visited the Vihara for my weekly language lesson
with Bhante A. I was leaving for Toronto the following day to attend an academic conference where I was scheduled to deliver a paper based on my preliminary research at the Vihara. Knowing this, Bhante informed me that he had something to give me. While I
waited in the library, he went to his room and retrieved a small package wrapped in a batik
cloth. Sitting down at the table beside me, he unrolled the cloth to reveal a spool of string and a small pair of scissors, then he unfurled a two-foot length of the string, folded it in
three and tied a knot in the center.
I recognized this as a Buddhist blessing ceremony called pirit which is often
performed before one embarks on a long trip or takes on a particularly challenging venture.
Grateful for the blessing, and for his support in my efforts to represent the Vihara to my
academic peers, I held out my wrist for him to tie the string around. As he tied a knot in the string, he whispered a special blessing of protection over me. When he was finished, I
thanked him, but explained that I was curious about the string itself. Unlike the white
string stored in the shrine room which was normally used forpirit blessings, the string Bhante had brought back from his room was a golden color, similar to the color of a
monk’s robe. Expecting to learn something about a color ranking system, a means of
symbolically categorizing blessings or distinguishing devotees from one another, I asked, “Is there a difference between the white string that you normally use and this yellow
string?” “Yes,” he answered, without a hint of irony, “that is white and this is yellow.”
This research has shown that much of what we perceive as difference is based first and foremost on our assumptions about what is potentially meaningful. As American and
Sinhalese participants encountered one another at the Washington Buddhist Vihara, it was
clear that the historical trajectories of lives spent in distant places has led them to exhibit very different perspectives and interests. These differences cannot be fully explained by
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 203
their histories and places in the world though, any more than the color of the string Bhante
used in the pirit ceremony was inherently meaningful. The constraints and opportunities participants faced at the Vihara were influenced by their personal histories and geographies, but their relationships were continuously negotiated through on-going encounters with one
another, interactions with global forces beyond the temple, and understandings and practice of the Buddha Dhamma.
My intention in this dissertation has been to point out how cultural and religious differences are naturalized by the assumption that people and places are unproblematically
linked, and to suggest that the social consequences of this assumption are being overlooked. Cultural and religious differences are themselves constructed and reproduced,
in part through social processes by which places like the Washington Buddhist Vihara are
endowed with meaning and purpose. I have also shown that, through their production of the Vihara as a Buddhist place, some participants have come to see and interpret difference
rather differently. My hope is that this research inspires even greater awareness and
Loving-Kindness among the participants of the Vihara as we all strive to see things as they really are.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. REFERENCES
Almond, Philip C. 1988 The British discovery of Buddhism, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Amunugama, Sarath 1991 Buddhaputra and Bhumiputra? Dilemmas of modem Sinhala Buddhist monks in relation to ethnic and political conflict. Religion. 21:115-139.
Anderson, Benedict 1983 Imagined communities: Reflections on the origin and spread of nationalism. New York: Verso.
Appadurai, Aijun 1988 Putting hierarchy in its place. Cultural Anthropology. 3(l):36-49. 1990 Disjuncture and difference in the global cultural economy. Public Culture. 2(2): 1-23.
Bell, Sandra 2000 Being creative with tradition: Rooting Theravada Buddhism in Britain. Journal of Global Buddhism. 1(2000): 1-23.
Bond, George D. 1988 The Buddhist revival in Sri Lanka: Religious tradition, reinterpretation and response. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers.
Buddhist Vihara Society 1981 Vandana: Buddhist devotions. Edited by Ven. Henepola Gunaratana and Ven. Bhikkhu Bodhi. Washington, D.C.: Washington Buddhist Vihara. 1992-99 The Washington Buddhist: Quarterly newsletter of the Washington Buddhist Vihara. Washington, D.C.: Washington Buddhist Vihara. 1998 Buddhist Vihara Society, Inc. Annual Report 1997-1998. Washington, D.C.: Washington Buddhist Vihara.
204
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 205
Carter Barron East Neighborhood Association 1998 April 1998 proposed revisions to 1982 bylaws of the Carter Barron East Neighborhood Association. Washington D.C.: CBENA.
Chandler, Stuart 1998 Chinese Buddhism in America: Identity and practice. The faces of Buddhism. Edited by Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka. Berkeley: University of California Press. 1999 Placing palms together: Religious and cultural dimensions of the Hsi Lai Temple political donations controversy. American Buddhism: Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Clifford, James 1994 Diasporas. Cultural Anthropology. 9(3):302-338.
Coleman, James William 1999 The new Buddhism: Some empirical findings. American Buddhism: Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Corless, Roger 1998 Coming out in theSangha : Queer community in American Buddhism. The faces of Buddhism. Edited by Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Daniels, Roger 1993 United States policy towards Asian immigrants: Contemporary developments in historical perspective. International Journal 48(2):310- 334.
de Certeau, Michel 1984 The practice of everyday life. Translated by Steven Rendall. Berkeley: University of California Press.
The Phammapada, 1996 Translated by Acharya Buddharakkhita. Kandy: Buddhist Publication Society.
Dharmadasa, K. N. O. 1992 Language, religion, and ethnic assertiveness: The growth of Sinhalese nationalism in Sri Lanka. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 206
Dumoulin, Heinrich, ed. 1976 Buddhism in the modem world. New York: Macmillan
Duncan, James S. 1990 The citv as text: The politics of landscape interpretation in the Kandvan kingdom. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Eck, Diana L. and the Pluralism Project at Harvard University 1997 On common ground: World religions in America. [CD-ROM]. New York: Columbia University.
Evers, Hans-Dieter 1972 Monks, priests and peasants: A study of Buddhism and social structure in central Cevlon. Netherlands: Leiden.
Fields, Rick 1992 How the swans came to the lake: A narrative history of Buddhism in America. 3rd edition. Boston: Shambhala Publications. 1998 DividedDharma : White Buddhists, ethnic Buddhists, and racism. The faces of Buddhism. Edited by Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka. Berkeley : University of California Press.
Fitzpatrick, Bridget 199S “Even a pacific people in an idyllic island can plunge into a bloodbath:” Understanding violence among Sinhalese Buddhists. Unpublished essay. Washington, D.C.: American University.
Frankenberg, Ruth and Lata Mani 1993 Crosscurrents, crosstalk: Race, “postcoloniality’ and the politics of location. Cultural Studies. 7:292-310.
Geertz, Clifford 1973 The interpretation of cultures. New York: Basic Books.
Giddens, Anthony 1990 The consequences of modernity. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
Gombrich, Richard F. 1988 Theravada Buddhism: A social history from ancient Benares to modem Colombo. New York: Routledge & Kegan Paul.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 207
Gramsci, Antonio 1971 Selections from the prison notebooks of Antonio Gramsci. New York: International Publishers.
GunaratanaMahathera, Ven. Henepola 1992 Mindfulness in plain English. Boston: Wisdom Publications.
Gupta, Akhil and James Ferguson 1992 Beyond Culture’: Space, identity, and the politics of difference. Cultural Anthropology 7(1):6—23. 1997 Culture, power, place: Ethnography at the end of an era. Culture, power, place: Explorations in critical anthropology. Edited by Akhil Gupta and James Ferguson. Durham: Duke University Press.
Hammond, Phillip and David Machacek 1999 Supply and demand: The appeal of American Buddhism. American Buddhism: Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Hannerz, Ulf 1986 Theory in anthropology: Small is beautiful? The problem of complex cultures. Comparative Studies in Society and History. 28(2): 362-367. 1996 Transnational connections: Culture, people, places. New York: Routledge.
Harvey, David 1989 The condition of postmodemitv: An enquiry into the origins of cultural change. Cambridge: Blackwell.
hooks, bell 1994 Waking up to racism. Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. 4(lV.42-45.
Jackson, Peter 1989 Maps of meaning: An introduction to cultural geography. New York: Routledge.
Kurien, Prema 1998 Becoming American by becoming Hindu: Indian Americans take their place at the multicultural table. Gatherings in diaspora: Religious communities and the new immigrants. Edited by Stephen R. Warner and Judith G. Winner. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 208
Lawson, Ronald 1998 From American church to immigrant church: The changing face of Seventh-day Adventism in metropolitan New York. Sociology of Religion. 59(4): 329-351.
Layman, Emma McCloy 1976 Buddhism in America. Chicago: Nelson-HaU.
Leonard, Karen 1997 Finding one’s own place: Asian landscapes re-visioned in rural California. Culture, power, place: Explorations in critical anthropology. Edited by Akhil Gupta and James Ferguson. Durham: Duke University Press.
Levitt, Peggy 1998 Local-level global religion: The case of U.S.-Dominican migration. Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion. 37(1): 74-89.
Liyanage, Priyath 1998 “Popular Buddhism, politics and the ethnic problem” in Demanding sacrifice: War and negotiation in Sri Lanka. Accord: An international review of peace initiatives. London: Conciliation Resources Lancaster House.
Lopez, David and Yen Espiritu 1990 Panethnicity in the United States: A theoretical framework. Ethnic and Racial Studies. 13(2): 198-224.
Malalgoda, Kitsiri 1976 Buddhism in Sinhalese society 1750-1900: A study of religious revival and change. Berkeley: University of California Press.
McAlister, Elizabeth 1998 The Madonna of 115th Street revisted: Vodou and Haitian Catholicism in the age of transnationalism. Gatherings in diaspora: Religious communities and the new immigrants. Edited by Stephen R. Warner and Judith G. Wittner. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Moore, Mick 1993 Thoroughly modem revolutionaries: The JVP in Sri Lanka. Modem Asian Studies. 27(3): 593-642.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 209
Morreale, Don, ed. 1988 Buddhist America: Centers, retreats, practices. Santa Fe, NM: John Muir Publishers.
Mullins, Mark R. 1988 The organizational dilemmas of ethnic churches: A case study of Japanese Buddhism in Canada. Sociological Analysis. 49(3): 217-233.
Nagel. Joane 1994 Constructing ethnicity: Creating and recreating ethnic identity and culture. Social Problems. 41(l):152-176.
Narayan, Vasudha 1992 Creating South Indian Hindu experience in the United States. A sacred thread: Modem transmission of Hindu traditions in India and abroad. Edited by Raymond Brady Williams. Chambersburg, PA: Anima.
Nattier, Jan 1995 Visible and invisible. Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. 5(l):42-49.
Numrich, Paul David 19% Old wisdom in the new world: Americanization in two immigrant Theravada Buddhist temples. Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press. 1999 Local inter-Buddhist associations in North America. American Buddhism; Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Obeyesekere, Gananath 1970 Religious symbolism and political change in Ceylon. Modem Ceylon 3tudigS, 1:43-63.
Peters, John Durham 1997 Seeing bifocally: Media, place, culture. Culture, power, place: Explorations in critical anthropology. Edited by Akhil Gupta and James Ferguson. Durham: Duke University Press.
Pfaffenberger, Bryan 1988 Sri Lanka in 1987: Indian intervention and resurgence of the JVP. Asian Survey. 28(2): 137-147.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 210
Phadnis, Urmila 1976 Religion and politics in Sri Lanka. New Delhi: Manohar.
Pratt, Mary Louise 1992 Imperial eyes: Travel writing and transculturation. New York: Routledge.
Prebish, Charles S. 1979 American Buddhism. North Scituate, MA: Duxbury Press. 1993 Two Buddhisms reconsidered. Buddhist Studies Review. 10(2): 187-206. 1998 Introduction. The faces of Buddhism. Edited by Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka, eds. 1998 The faces of Buddhism. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Pred, Allan 1990 Making histories and constructing human geographies. Making histories and constructing human geographies: The local transformation of practice, power relations, and consciousness. Boulder: Westview Press.
Queen, Christopher S. 1999 Introduction. American Buddhism: Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Rahula, Walpola 1959 What the Buddha taught. New York: Grove Press.
Roehm, Michael 1991 A few fragments from the Vihara’s twenty-five-year chronology. The Washington Buddhist 1966-1991: Silver jubilee commemoration of the Washington Buddhist Vihara. Washington, D.C.: Washington Buddhist Vihara.
Roseberry, William 1989 Anthropologies and histories: Essays in culture, history, and political economy. New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press.
Rothberg, Donald 1998 Responding to the cries of the world: Socially engaged Buddhism in America. The faces of Buddhism. Edited by Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 211
Salzberg, Sharon 1995 Loving-Kindness: The revolutionary art of happiness. Boston: Shambala Publications.
Seager, Richard 1999 Surveying the American Buddhist landscape. Unpublished paper presented at Smithsonian Institution weekend seminar on religion and philosophy, American Buddhism: The changing face. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution.
Seneviratne, H. L. 1993 The new Buddhist monks and the decline of linguistic nationalism in Sri Lanka. Unpublished lecture for the Institute for global studies in culture, power and history, general seminar, Fall 1993. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University.
Soeng, Mu 1998 Korean Buddhism in America: A new style of Zen. The faces of Buddhism. Edited by Prebish, Charles S. and Kenneth K. Tanaka. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Southwold, Martin 1983 Buddhism in life: The anthropological study of religion and the Sinhalese practice of Buddhism. Dover: Manchester University Press.
Spencer, Jonathan 1990 Writing within: Anthropology, nationalism, and culture in Sri Lanka. Current Anthropology. 31(3): 283-300.
Tambiah, Stanley Jeyaraja 1992 Buddhism betrayed? Religion, politics, and violence in Sri Lanka. Chicago: Chicago University Press.
Tanaka, Kenneth K. 1999 Issues of ethnicity in the Buddhist Churches of America. American Buddhism: Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 212
Torres, Rodolfo D. and ChorSwang Ngin 1995 Racialized boundaries, class relations, and cultural politics: The Asian- American and Latino experience. Culture and difference: Critical perspectives on the bicultural experience in the United States. Edited by Antonio Darder. Westport: Bergin and Garvey.
Tweed, Thomas 1997 Asian religions in the United States: Reflections on an emerging subfield. Religious diversity and American religious history: Studies in traditions and cultures. Edited by Walter H. Conser Jr. and Sumner B. Twiss. Athens: University of Georgia Press. 1999 Night-stand Buddhists and other creatures: Sympathizers, adherents, and the study of religion. American Buddhism: Methods and findings in recent scholarship. Edited by Duncan Ryuken Williams and Christopher S. Queen. Surrey: Curzon Press.
Tworkov, Helen 1991 Many is more. Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. l(2):4. 1995 Going upstream: An interview with Bhante Henepola Gunaratana. Tricycle: The Buddhist Review. 4(3):37-41.
The Udana: Inspired utterances of the Buddha and the Itivuttaka: The Buddha’s savings. 1997 Translated by John D. Ireland. Kandy: Buddhist Publication Society.
Van Esterik, Penny 1992 Taking refuge: Lao Buddhists in North America. Toronto: York Lanes Press, Center for Refugee Studies, York University.
Warner, R. Stephen 1997 The 1996 Paul Hanly Furfey Lecture presidential address. Religion, boundaries, and bridges. Sociology of Religion. 58(3): 217-238. 1998a 1997 presidential address. Approaching religious diversity: Barriers, byways, and beginnings. Sociology of Religion. 59(3): 193-215. 1998b Immigration and religious communities in the United States. Gatherings in diaspora: Religious communities and the new immigrants. Edited by R. Stephen Warner and Judith G. Winner. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Warner, R. Stephen and Judith G. Wittner, eds. 1998 Gatherings in diaspora: Religious communities and the new immigrants. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission. 213
Welaratna, Usha 1993 Beyond the killing fields: Voices of nine Cambodian survivors in America. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
Williams, Raymond Brady 1988 Religions of immigrants from India and Pakistan: New threads in the American tapestry. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 1996 Christian pluralism in the United States: The Indian immigrant experience. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Wolf, Eric 1982 Europe and the people without history. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Yang, Fenggang 1998 Tenacious Unity in a Contentious Community: Cultural and Religious Dynamics in a Chinese Christian Church. Gatherings in diaspora: Religious communities and the new immigrants, Edited by Stephen R. Warner and Judith G. Wittner. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.
Reproduced with permission of the copyright owner. Further reproduction prohibited without permission.