Agarwood: The Journey

Today I visited the Buddhist temple next door to my hostel. From the outside, I could see it’s a modern building with a traditional temple façade. The sides of the structure are cement with square windows scattered around from the two interior floors. From the front, it is wooden with traditional ornate etchings with red and golden colored paint that fills in the etched flowers and patterns. There were sheets of deep yellow and red hanging from the roof of the front porch that blew with the wind.

In the front of the temple there was a large white cement courtyard. From the street there was a semi-long marble sidewalk that was perfectly aligned with the front door.

I was an obvious tourist, if not a totally out of place foreigner. Wearing my Muslim cap, I was clearly not Buddhist. Some people were watching me as I crossed the long sidewalk to the entrance of the temple. I intentionally walked slowly and calmly. It was my intention to show respect for their place of worship and to be as kind as possible.

As I reached the front door of the temple I could smell the wafts of incense smoke from the two burners on either side of the main entrance. The scent was potent and powerful – but light. There was an element to it that reminded me of water and gave me a light easygoing feeling. I wanted to look into the burners to see if they were electric or from burning coals, but they were placed too high for me to look inside.

Finally, I entered the temple. I wondered if there was a particular way of entering that is traditional and religious. My custom is to enter the Mosque with the right foot and exit with the left. Instinctively, I entered with the right foot. I exhaled has I entered. I felt nervous, never having been in a Buddhist temple before.

As I entered, I saw a main hall with a large statue of Buddha and scattered monks in red robes all around it. The monks were holding incense sticks and braziers and waving them around as they meditated. I stood close to the entrance in wonder as I took this all in.

A thirty-something year-old man with a shaved head and red robe came up to me, saying “Hello” in English. My first thought was that he was hired by the temple to greet the tourists, but later I realized he was just a simple Lama trying to make me feel comfortable.

I replied to him, “Hello”. He asked me where I was from and I told him Algeria. He politely welcomed me and introduced himself as Ashoka. I asked him if this is the prayer time and he told me that Buddhists pray at all times. He said that the worshipers were meditating to express gratitude to Buddha and that the burning incense is to remember the importance of virtue. I asked him what kind of incense they were burning. He told me, “Sandalwood”. I asked him if they burn Oud. He smiled and said, “Yes, we burn Oud at our holy ceremonies, marriages, funerals and other significant occasions.” I asked him where the Oud is from. He told me that some is from Burma, and other kinds are imported from Malaysia, Indonesia, China, and also from India.

He invited me to attend a traditional ceremony where they will burn Oud tomorrow. I will look forward to this, though I am feeling a bit uncomfortable as the outsider.

Tags: meditation incense