Buddhism in Practice: Sri Lanka Photos by John Beebe, Text by Peggy Moss

We moved to Sri Lanka for a sabbatical year, taking along our young children, leaving behind our home and routine in New England. We chose the island partly for aesthetic reasons, spurred on by photographs of its incredible landscape and stories of its astonishing people, but also because it is the oldest continually Buddhist country in the world.

Much of the time, Buddhism in Sri Lanka feels cultural; the saffron robes of novice monks become a backdrop to the bustle of Colombo and the color is picked up in textiles sold to tourists as “typically Sri Lankan.” Buddhist temples are always open to nature and to passersby who may stop in at any time to light candles or to pause in reflection. A Hindu tuk tuk driver will stop at particular temples to pay respects and most Sri Lankans, whether Muslim, Catholic, Hindu or Buddhist, understand the basic tenets of Buddhism. They all celebrate the once-monthly full-moon Poya days and the world comes to a grinding halt on Vesak Poya for the Buddha’s birthday. The Kandy Parehera, or procession, draws Buddhists and non-Buddhists from around the world to a festive celebration of staggering proportions.

And yet, Buddhism here is not merely a common cultural understanding; it is more encompassing than a series of celebrations and holidays. Sundays find young children singing and reciting chants reverently in temples throughout the country. No matter how rudimentary their living conditions, these children wear fresh, clean, white saris. They bow to their elders. They press their palms together and bow to the Lord Buddha.

As they grow, some of these boys and girls will become monks and nuns. They will fast for long portions of each day and serve their communities. A Theravadan monk serves the remote mountainous community of Ella, where he walks two miles each day to get to the town he serves. Another Sri Lankan monk, Bhante Wimala, is now based in Princeton, New Jersey, but travels the world — from Afghanistan to Kenya, always returning to Sri Lanka — with the Triple Gem Society, building homes for those displaced by the 2004 Tsunami and building Hindu temples for communities that cannot raise enough money on their own to do so. It is this benevolence that is peculiar to Buddhism, which allows, even embraces, other religions.

Buddhist monks are completely dependent upon the communities they serve for their alms, and many young monks walk the streets in bare feet for hours each day. Which is not to say that they are somber! Monks can be found buying lottery tickets, sneaking a swim in the ocean in their robes, playing cricket or dissolving in giggles behind large hand-made fans.

Of course, most Buddhists in Sri Lanka are not monks or nuns. They are ordinary people who visit the temple to pray, who cook curries for alms and listen to the dharma. They make pilgrimages on Sri Lanka’s ragged trains to holy sites, including Sri Pada, the Temple of the Tooth and Tissa Mahara, sites containing relics of the Lord Buddha. There is joy and celebration on these pilgrimages, whether taken alone or with family.

Buddhism’s cultural aspects so permeate Sri Lanka that it seems indiscernible as a separate religion: skirts cover the knee; no alcohol is served on Poya days, even by five-star hotels catering to Western tourists. But it is Buddhism’s ability to share that resonates in this country. The early Buddhist kings did not try to convert their Hindu wives and instead built Hindu shrines, which exist to this day, within the walls of their temple grounds. Buddhist children are likely to celebrate learning their first letters in the company of a great family elder, in front of the Hindu god Ganesha. If anything, these magnanimous gestures — now so deeply ingrained as to go without note — confirm the strength of Buddhism in Sri Lanka, at once fundamental and thriving.