I took full ordination as a Buddhist monk after about six months at Wat Pah Baan That with the help of some Thai supporters, an American monk; Tan Dick, and the beloved senior English monk, Ajahn Panyavaddho who passed away recently. Three-hundred monks from monasteries throughout Thailand attended his funeral.

Acharn Maha Boowa, however, would not permit me to stay at Wat Pah Ban That after my ordination - "Too many Westerners," which were difficult for him to teach because of the language barrier, and because of his advanced age - so I was shipped off to a strict "boot camp" at a wat run by a disciplinarian abbot just across the Mekong River and Laos. This was great, because Acharn Maha Boowa's wat was just too busy for me. But there was a downside - I was now 400 Kilometers from Janet!

Fifteen to twenty monks usually inhabited the went near Laos, the number varied, and fortunately included an ex CIA (he never admitted it but I was sure he was) American monk who spoke not only fluid Thai, but Cambodian and Laotian as well. The abbot could only speak a few words of English, but he had a favorite phrase that he repeated ad nauseam as we walked together on alms round: "Women have the nature of dogs!" he would say, over and over, smiling broadly. Then, when we were all seated in the hall for the meal, he would glance at me, smile and nod every time a Thai women from Bangkok, dressed to the nines in short skirts, ran around with food offerings. (I think he knew that I was married).

My kuti was deep in the forest, about a half-mile from the main hall and situated on the upper end of a massive, flat rock. There were large flat rocks on both sides, with deep ravines separating them (havens for cobras), and surrounding everything was dense jungle. The six by seven foot hut was perched on the customary four stilts, with each stilt fitted with a small pan filled with kerosene to keep out ants and termites. Eight steps led to a small porch at the entrance of the small hut, which had two large windows with shutters to protect the occupant monk from the heavy storms that would soon arrive.

The tin roof looked as if it would hold up well during the rains and was clear of low hanging branches that would invite vipers to drop off trees and become unwelcome guests. Inside on the floor were a lantern and a water jug, and in a corner was a table with a candle and some incense. The solitary adornments on the back wall were a pair of geckos - the ever-present foot long lizards that considered this hut their home as well.

The floor and walls were made of planks cut from large trees. Young village men using a two-man saw manually cut the forty-foot logs end-to-end to make the boards; it was backbreaking, tedious work. The young men would work all day without stopping except for a few bites of rice and a coke at noon. These impoverished villagers gave up a great deal of their time and resources to support the monks, and I vowed to work as hard as I could to calm my own greed, hatred, and delusion so that I could somehow repay them. Their generosity astounded me.