"THINGS I CAN TELL"

 Here is my autobiography, "Things I Can Tell".

After weeks of tearing my hair out I can now report that I have my final version of my reflective autobiography up on KIndle, where it should be available in about 3 days.

You can read the updated PDF version HERE

It is also available on the Internet Archive, HERE

The title, “Things I Have Known” is taken from an eponymous book written by a distant ancestor, Lord Rossmore in the 1930’s. My printer found this on the Internet Archive. 

Should you be interested you can find it HERE

Natasha

Natasha

On returning, I would spend quite a lot of time with my friend and lecturer Henry Wrassky. One day he said he would like to introduce me to someone interesting. We met at the home of Marina Page who lived in Sumner, a short walk from my parents house. Marina had her cousin Natasha, from Leningrad staying with her for the summer. I remember Natasha lying with her back to the window pane reading a book and taking very little interest in the conversation.

I don’t recall any more how things went but have a recollection that Wrassky said something about us getting together and for whatever reason that’s what transpired. Natasha (who was, at 34, 12 years older than me) started seeing quite a bit of each other. That was the start of a bit of a romance.

Problems started when went, very reluctantly, to stay with cousin Marina in her cottage at Hanmer. Natasha arranged for me to pick her up in hand mark and started a trip together to the West Coast. We stayed in Greymouth and then travelled down, through Hokitika to Franz Josef glacier before returning to Christchurch (and trouble).

I was in love – or it might be more accurate to say I was in lust, with Natasha who was in deep trouble with her cousin Marina for betraying her trust and, not least, seducing a young man from an old Canterbury family – Marina always had a deep appreciation of that.

When Natasha flew out to return to Leningrad I accompanied her to Melbourne and Sydney. We stayed with old friends of Wrassky whom we are managed to offend, not least by Natasha leaving blood on the sheets. We had a fine old time together in Sydney with no one looking over our shoulders. I remember walking a lot, seeing the Sydney Opera House, drinking beer. We entered one pub where there were only men who cleared at Natasha for daring to enter a “men – only” drinking hole.

Coming back to New Zealand – I remember it Christchurch airport having to wait until the last for a Customs search which was extraordinarily thorough, I presume because I hardly had any luggage and wasn’t carrying back the obligatory shopping – I settled, more or less back into the last year at University.

The obstacles made, what would have been unobtainable, not to say ill-advised for the normal person had they even ended up in this situation, all the more determined. Wrassky, who by now regretted having ever brought us to together tried his best to dissuade me from going further with my odyssey, even saying something about women not being as fertile as long as men.

My parents probably knew better than to try and persuade me out of my delusions and were remarkably long-suffering, even supportive. There were many difficult, and expensive trunk calls to Leningrad. It was a real feat getting through to the operator in Moscow and persuading them to connect me with Leningrad. I remember one time, trying to get through, asking “is this Moscow?”, “No! This is South Africa”. All of this would have been quite impossible had I not been able to practically take over from the New Zealand operator and explain myself and Russian.

All of this was very stimulating.

Next came the preparations for travelling to Russia and fulfilling the bureaucratic requirements of the Soviet government. Natasha’s letters were very matter of fact (I wish I had kept them) and explained how I needed to have documents, witnessed by a notary public and by the Soviet Embassy proving who I was, that I had no criminal record and so forth. The Soviet representative at the embassy,Nikolai Parshenko, was embarrassed and apologetic about the red tape. I think he was on our side.

Some time in our winter I took a trip to Leningrad, met the family, got the blessing of Natasha’s mother, Nina Petrovna and spent some time with Natasha. I had to go on a tourist visa which meant having to stay in a hotel at monopoly Intourist rates. It also meant that whatever we did during the daytime I was not able to stay with them and Natasha was not able to sleep in the hotel.

I remember one amusing episode returning back to the hotel in the evening and the babushka who guarded the floor and gave out the keys refused and insisted on asking “where is your delegation?” The officious old woman refused to believe that I was an individual and staying on my own so I had to go down to the service department and explain myself before I could get into my hotel room. That was Soviet reality!

On that trip I flew out of Copenhagen which meant taking the train from Leningrad through Warsaw, where I spent one night and then on to Copenhagen.

I remember arriving in Warsaw where after the sparse shelves of shops in Moscow and Leningrad the Warsaw shops had piles of cabbages. I remember staying in the Hotel Bristol on Nowy Swiat, which is now one of the most swish streets in Warsaw but was then pretty dingy and I remember how they served up the obligatory meal with potatoes, a small piece of steak and tinned peas. I was also very pleased with myself that I was able to buy some sweet smelling Polish aftershave from a kiosk.

Other memories which come to mind are visiting my Danish friends who I met a couple of years before in Moscow, drinking Danish beer and then the trip back, which started with the Lufthansa flight being 10 hours late, being put up in an expensive hotel, the next flight being also late as well as the connecting flight from Sydney being late as well – I arrived approximately 24 hours later than scheduled. Luckily I was young.

Fast forward to November and I again, was flying to Europe, this time to London where my sister Kathy and my cousin Rosie took the train to Moscow. I remember it as a pleasant trip with guard bringing us free cups of tea. In Warsaw I was sure that we had plenty of time so the three of us went for a walk, (minus our passports) and when we strolled back a very red-faced guard asked where had we been, we had held up the train.

We arrived in Moscow, met by Natasha and then travelled on to Leningrad in style, on the “Red Arrow”. I remember Cathy and Rosie meeting the family going to pick up Jeremy from the railway station, he had arrived from Helsinki; walks through the frigid streets of Leningrad, photos on Palace Square and then later on the wedding itself which was held in the Palace of Weddings, which was a very formal and very Soviet ceremony.

I remember saying goodbye to my family at the railway station, spending some more time in Leningrad and then moving on to Moscow. One way to save money was to travel by train as much as one could because the train journeys were a lot less expensive than the hotel accommodation, and also rather pleasant.

That winter was one of the coldest they had had in Russia for several years. I remember being told how water pipes had cracked in the cold and I have recollections of walking some of the most beautiful parts of Moscow, such as Kropotkin Street and around the Novodevichii monastery, which was closed in those days, it incredible cold – minus 24° C.

One of the aspects of visiting Natasha were long shopping lists, bringing items like sheepskin coats made in Christchurch, or some item of stereo equipment – all of this could be resold at huge profit and help to finance the whole endeavour.

All of this must’ve placed a tremendous financial burden on my family, for all know I had learned some of the money and cashed in on some insurances my father had to subsidise much of this.

I don’t really know what my parents thought about the strange situation, but they were amazingly supportive, never tried to dissuade me and greeted the new arrivals with great warmth when Natasha and her family finally arrived in the country in August the next year.

Can’t have given any thought to how I was going to support this new family. I had started a job at the Department of Trade and Industry as assistant advisory officer, really a fairly low level clerical job, deciding whether import licences would be granted, or not. This was in the days where the policy was still one of import substitution and fostering local industry, one that would go down the gurgler just a few short years later in the Rogernomics neoliberal policies.

Natasha arrived with her full contingent, consisting of her mother, Vera Petrovna; her aunt, Nina Petrovna in nine-year-old daughter,Zhenya. A wonderful cottage had been found for us in the middle of Sumner, ironically just over the fence from Natasha’s cousin Marina. I think Natasha’s family thought that third arrived in Paradise and were living in a dacha, as if it were a summer holiday, even though, to my shock, they were lighting up the fire every day going through the firewood as if there were no tomorrow. Zhenya started at the local school and was taken under the wing of my mother, ‘Granny Moll’.

Natasha had arrived as a whole lot of books on computer programming – I took her word that she was experienced in this area but it didn’t take that long to realise that this is not her area of expertise there were no prospects of her work in this area. So, for the time we were together, we will all supported on my very meagre salary.

Unfortunately Vera Petrovna had a heart condition and after about a month took a bad turn. She was seen by the doctor and have some ECGs which said nothing, but was called back from work one morning to be told that she had died from a heart attack.

Whatever hard exterior Natasha had, or whatever skills in wheeling and dealing in the Soviet system, the death of her mother within a short time of arriving in a new country dealt her a severe blow and I had no skills to be of much support and it didn’t take long to learn about the chasm that divided us culturally.

She was not emotionally invulnerable as I think some others tended to think that in fact very emotionally vulnerable, which was shown by the fact and she revealed this to me that at some stage (I can’t remember what the immediate trigger was) she closed herself off in the covered and developed a debilitating skin condition, psoriasis.

She often didn’t speak to people that she wasn’t close to and seemed haughty and rude. She was, I think, shy amongst people she didn’t relate to what I know she loved and respected my parents greatly, even if she was capable of whisking away one of my dads bottles of gin.

I’m sure that she had a not so secret inner desire to be accepted and taken them to what she (and her cousin Marina) saw as one of Canterbury’s “aristocratic” families.

The relationship was based on open (on my side at least) pure fantasy. People only saw how I (and my family) we used by Natasha to get out of Russia and find a better life. This was certainly the position of her cousin Marina who had taken great offence at Natasha’s behaviour when she was staying with her and was livid when in her eyes, she “targeted” “the scion” of the great Westenra family.

I still, 35 years later, see this as, to put it politely, an oversimplification. Although there is some truth the whole thing was not concocted and the truth is a lot more complicated.

Things started to fall apart when her ex-husband, Misha visited her from United States. I’m not sure of the ever met (probably not) but I can’t imagine the vehemently anti-Semitic Marina ever accepting the Jewish Michael! Following closely on that, Natasha went back to Leningrad to sort out her affairs and I learnt indirectly that she had been in contact with other husband… and I’m sure that’s when the possibility of a move from New Zealand to Europe arose.

What transpired in the months following was that… had managed to marry a Finnish woman, to divorce and turn up in Belgium.

The relationship deteriorated rapidly, there were some unfortunate scenes between us during which time I took refuge in a vodka bottle and eventually, I was asked to leave, and went back to live with my parents.

My wife was persuaded by her lawyer to take out a non-molestation order and quickly moved to get a separation agreement, as well as the New Zealand passport under the name Westenra, (which was very convenient) and to arrange to leave, with her family for Belgium where her ex-husband left for her.

We kept in sporadic contact until I left for a trip to Europe. After a few days in England I was met off the ferry by Natasha and we spent a day or two together in Brussels.

She disappeared off the radar completely for some years until I found her, and she was living in France.

Visiting Natasha in France

When I returned to Moscow with Henry Wrassky in 2007 I saw her in Moscow and amongst other things was treated to lunch in the opulent Cafe Pushkin. After some time in Poland and visiting my long-time friend Gerti in Bamberg, Germany I was treated to a ticket to visit Natasha on the Cote d’Azur. The meeting was very amicable and felt more like a family visit them to and an estranged spouse.

We shared many recollections, and even the promenade around the peninsular of…was somewhat reminiscent of old times in Sumner. I was met like a long lost friend and treated with characteristic generosity even if the quid pro quo was to accompany Natasha in her large Mercedes (playing CDs with old crooners like Dean Martin) on long shopping trips, or on a wonderful (but over-long and very tiring) trip along the Cote d’Azur, through… and Menton to Italy where we had dinner.

I met Zhenya (Eugenie Westenra) who was living in Monaco and working for the Credit Suisse catering to the needs of Russian millionaires who needed some place their money. This was in 2007, in the heady days before the 2008 financial meltdown.

I have often wondered what has happened to them in the days since then, but apart from one solitary phone call when Pam spoke to her, Natasha has once again disappeared off the radar.

That is so characteristic.

……………………….

Here’s an excerpt from my diary of my last visit to Europe.

8 August 2008, Provence

Une villa au Meditteranee!

I think I really have to pinch myself – a completely different world from Bamberg. 9.30 and already thermometer says 27° C!

Cypress trees and tall hills covered with buildings that are as reminiscent of Italy as a France. Cicadas sing shorter notes here I think.

Was met at the airport after a bit of a wait by Natasha – and undersized person in an oversized Mercedes. In the old days she didn’t/and couldn’t drive. Airport seemed empty and provincial, but apparently it’s the second biggest in France. I wasn’t that impressed by what was on offer in Frankfurt and Zurich. Nothing much to eat – but Swiss chocolate and Moevenpick ice cream on the Swissair flight.

Can’t remember much of the drive back – dry, hot, amazing French buildings – very dense buildings along the seaside and on the steep hillsides.

Met by Zhenya and her daughter – nice but slightly awkward (from my side) conversation – I was tired. Zhenya also suffers seemingly from some form of chronic fatigue – sleeps a lot, both the office but doesn’t spend a lot of time there.

More later…

After a slow start took off with Natasha to Eze, a small village between here (St Jean Cap Ferra) and Monaco. Situated on steep slopes of 400 m – it has a church with narrow winding paths leading up to a fortress. The Romans were here but present structures date back to the 14th century. Belong to Provence, then to Kings of Savoy and then France. A lot of time in highbrow shops and art galleries. Down below bicarb Park is a perfume factory and museum. Apparently all French perfume comes from grasses grow nearby – this is the source.

Shades of the old Natasha – in and out of shops, looking at all the beautiful things. In the evening a nice one and a half hour walk around the peninsular of Cap Ferra. All slightly reminiscent of Scarborough and Flowers Track etc .

In Eze that is an expensive hotel with the customer’s luggage is carried by donkeys.

It has been an adjustment – from Gerti’s flat in Bamberg to this amazing fellow on the Cote d’Azur was to Russian women working one, Raiya- (a Chechen I think) the other looking after the wee girl,Nastya (Anastasia Charlotte Westenra!!). Zhenya works for a local branch of credit Suisse and works with the rich Russians who live here, bringing business to the bank. She obviously earns well (she has brought some millions of euros to her employer) – this was the problem with Nastya’s father – in Moscow, who found it hard to accept that she was earning several times more than what he was. She studied economics at Brussels University and Russian politics at the London School of economics. Since I knew them in Brussels, when they were struggling to keep themselves going, they have lived in Switzerland, London, Moscow – and now the Cote d’Azur. As I understand it Natasha is following Zhenya and running her own travel business from wherever. She has someone, who she describes as being like a son, running a bureau in St Petersburg – specialises in Tours from Europe with the cultural (or whatever,) theme. She has her own guides stop she gets referrals from European travel agencies and she pays them.

….

Feel exhausted today after a rough day yesterday. Met up with Natasha’s Georgian friends and drove to Menton and looked around the most amazing old town – the last town before one hits the Italian border. Lots of photos, lots of waiting while certain people did the shops, a good proportion of the day went into shopping stop

Then went to a cafe to have tea in the most amazing array of cakes and sweets et cetera – one piece would have been enough for the sweet tooth, but had to sample everything. By this time would have been ready to turn around, but no, onwards to Italy. Stopped in one town while in its business and then on to San Remo… More shopping, a little bit of sightseeing – by this time it hardly care less – and then to cap it off) after all the wonderful eateries on the street that we bit bypassed] went to some expensive cafe – more tea with pastries! By this time I felt pretty pest off. Then back to the car (a huge Mercedes that doesn’t fit the roads here) a’s ships nd a long trip back, finding the way; yet another stopped walk around and night Bazaar in Menton. By the time we got back it was 12:30 a.m. and I was stuffed.

Today I think I am suffering, primarily from the diet. Tired and a little depressed – basically need space, simplicity and hanker for home, or it least Birling Place.…

This has been a difficult stay for me. Especially the resins. I have been ups and 730, ready to go down to the village to look up the Internet for Z – it is now 8. 30 and nobody has stirred is – so I can see that Natasha will get up late and normally no time for what seemed urgent last night.

Similarly, there would be announcements such as open quote after dinner we will drive up to the village, – and then nothing would happen. Then yesterday I was told we were going to the beach only to find we were going on a shopping expedition instead.

I have spent a lot of time this waiting while Natasha disappears into a shop to look at shoes, onions, or whatever, I have found it all a bit claustrophobic, unnerving and frustrating. There is an uncomfortable feeling of being dependent on someone else, to go somewhere, when and if they want.

This on the one hand. But on the other, the unbounded generosity of paying for my ticket, taking me around, offering the most incredible delicacies – champagne , all sorts of French breads and sweets, being on the beach with its chaises longues and glasses of wine, orange juice etc – it cost $40 a day just to sit on the beach.

All of this is brought up feelings of rage, in adequacy, frustration – most of all, not really being my own person. So while I know I should be grateful and happy I feel in a pressure – let me get out of here full!

Apart from anything else observing the life of the well off is not a comfortable experience – all the expensive cars, rich food, the throwaway society, all the talk of who has what, expensive cars, jobs, helicopters to St Tropez. It is, to put it extremely mildly, unsustainable. On Saturday, when I went shopping with Natasha in her huge Mercedes, forgetting to take with her any bags from home – all the unnecessary expenditure, the use of plastic bags – all produced a sense of despair.

Natasha is a powerful woman in people seem to be attracted to her. When people speak to her on the street and French there is a good connection. She does seem to be able to help the people around her – so the money flows in and out. She seems to have a sincere belief in spirituality (eastern and western); she is impressed by Alexandra David Neel and a bit borders on; also a fairly innate understanding of energetic medicine – she latched fairly quickly onto the principles of NAET. I did some basic muscle testing on them and then Natasha went down to use the Internet to find some local NAET practitioners. Zhenya is pretty sick with chronic fatigue and unable to work at the moment (she sleeps a lot of the time close bracket and has all the classic symptoms of CFS/candida. I hope someone here is able to help.

Who wee daughter, Nastya, is delightful and bright for her age perhaps I should think of myself as some sort of “would be” Grandad!! All in all there is some familiarity, but in general a very different world from what I’m used to!

Travelling in Asia - 1987-8

Thailand

I left in May 1987 for a trip that would take me to Asia for 16 months and would change my life forever. I live in Singapore and make my way slowly up through Malaysia, starting with Malacca and continuing through Kuala Lumpur and Penang before arriving for three months in Thailand.

I spent some time on the popular resort island of Koh Samui before joining my first real meditation retreat at Wat Suan Moke.

In addition to my own mind at Suan Moke I faced the additional problem of mosquitoes for the first time.

I think day that's one book. Have felt considerably weaker today. Let it in the sheet. Difficult to move and difficult (mostly) to stay still because of the mosquitoes /ants / fleas etc.… After having seen my first snake on Koh Samui I saw my first scorpion right outside the dormitory. I was quite shocked to learn that in the rainy season scorpions and snakes like to make the homes inside the kutis (meditation huts) sometimes.… One learns a lot about oneself and a situation like this where one is free and has a lot of time. Need a lot of self-discipline to keep up practice.

By the end of June I was in Bangkok and amongst other things I found a central Monastry, Wat Mahathat, to practice meditation in. I found a Dutch monk, Fritz, who taught me meditation in the Mahasi Sayadaw tradition and I started to go between my rest house on Khaosan Rd and the monastery every day to meditate.

The tickly tort was very stressed and consisted of alternating sitting meditation with slow walking meditation. The one hour presentation consisted of following the movement of the breath at the abdomen and noting whatever came up, whether it was sensations such as itching ("itching, itching") or thoughts ("thinking, thinking"). The emphasis was on "right effort", which really meant EFFORT. After the hour there was an hour of intense, and very slow walking meditation noting the intention to remove As well as the movement itself, ("lifting, lifting" etc..). And so it went on, with the exception of short breaks for something to eat, once a day, throughout all the waking hours.

After a while Fritz suggested that I had had long enough practising in the city and suggested a retreat at a monastery called Wat Vivek Asom. Apart from myself that did not seem to be any other farangs and the Thai monks seemed to be largely without English, though I was largely on my own.

I quickly came down with a stomach bug and diarrhoea

Feeling weak and my left shoulder blade is giving me hell. It seems no one is concerned about me and I feel left in the lurch now... Yesterday was hell! Only went to toilet about three times – diarrhoea, however the rest of the day felt some stomach pains, very weak and faint and later on in the day had a fever and more or less unconscious. Did not eat anything except for a couple of fruit.

I can remember the feeling now . It was as if it was all equanimity and no compassion - that I could've died here and nobody would have cared. "conscious of time passing and of freezing pain and left shoulder blade. Gave way to sorts of giving up, of missing home, Sammy (will he remember me?)... What's not able to note thoughts generally feeling rather sorry for myself".

"I really do wonder what I'm doing here – easy to keep silence, because there's nobody to communicate with anyway!.... The ants are everywhere – probably swimming in my condensed milk by now!

Later on.

Feel zonked and negative thoughts of why am I here?? Do not want to practice any more today – 8–10, 1–7 today (eight hours). Concentration seemed to be at a low level today and started off with backache, then stomach discomfort (have constipation!! today)., laziness – but minds did not seem to wander too much but at end rebelled. Last sitting saw one mosquito and could not set one minute more, up to my room and ate a banana!

Phra Frits turned up and I was able to have an interview with him. He said he was quite pleased with my progress and sincerity. Sick negativity can be caused through boredom caused either by lack of effort all by good practice – said I was sincerely not sure which was true. It seems that when I appear to be going backwards I am going forwards - important to maintain effort! ....

And sweat everywhere today – in all the food and now climbing along the lines across my room so not even the stuff is safe any more! In a moment of anger I burnt a couple of the buggers!.....

when I do venture out and ponder along towards the gate I have been approached twice – what IM doing, if I am hungry etc. Do you feel like a prisoner. Can't I just take a stroll for the few metres that are? When I go back to Bangkok I will try to floating seafood restaurant! Do something a little naughty!

This is one of the harder periods of my life and I am afraid that my mind is getting away. It is not always easy to control it. My fullness the slipping away and sometimes even the desire to be mindful – but I will not give up. Probably will take a bit longer. I am thinking more in terms of taking off for Europe – just for a few months through USSR in September and returning to India after Christmas for yoga ashram."

The more I tried to control my mind the more it got away on me and I started to think of escape.

"You am feeling like giving up more and more. My mind just not calm and I cannot find calm. I think that is what I expected from meditation, that was longer periods of meditation I would find inner peace. Instead of that I find a world of suffering, of terrible aches and pains, but the room I am living in is infested with ants crawling everywhere, so that nothing in this room is safe, it is no longer quiet with drilling and hammering going on destroying any peace of mind. Difficult not to judge all this, just be aware and not judge, observe the breath. It is incredibly boring and mundane – and have nothing here to occupy the mind with. It is like being in a prison for one week – no entertainment, nothing to read, no one to talk to, just the same four walls– just at one with the suffering, painful mind."

Later on.

"Field ecstasy and a feeling of joy at being here and being able to meditate!! I think I am really learning to be with myself – that I will never be unhappy again to be in solitude. That is an incredible achievement!

A couple of hours later.

Have lost some energy and have not felt like like meditating with such a lot going on.

It was the start of the rain's retreat and I had my first opportunity to observe Buddhist culture at work and to make some observations.

"The monks came and assembled on platform with the Abbott at their head. After some challenging each of the nuns gave a gift (in name was called out of a hat) to the monks. The months were I'm able to take directly from a woman who placed a piece of cloth in front of him gift paste en masse and taken by the month. The woman then bowed.to the monk. Never any sign of respect in the other direction – really very sexist! Really, is it a lower form of birth – to be born a female?!

After 10 days intensive retreat (and even now looking back at the diaries, it seems much longer) I left for Bangkok. After a few days back in Bangkok, trying to meditate in that environment I left for a side trip to Kantchanaburi, this site of "bridge over the river Kwai". This trip stays in my memory because of the first evening here, going to the bathroom I slipped on the slippery concrete in the rain and landed on my coccyx. It was very painful! I finally found relief on my return to Bangkok with a herbal massage.

Soon I was off again by train to Wat Pah Nanachat, the International Forest monastery near Ubol Ratchathani That was related to the forest monastery back in Stokes Valley in Wellington. I arrived during the rain's retreat so it was by no means certain that I could stay longer for three days – however I was accepted and my head was shaved.

The routine was very different from Vivek Asom. There was a lot less emphasis on formal meditation practice and much more emphasis on routine tasks and chores such as sweeping leaves or fetching water. One of the most memorable aspects of being at what another chart was just the sheer discomfort – of sleeping on beer boards with nothing but a mat and the discomfort of the meditation hall

"At 6.30 we were summoned to evening charging at the "boat"which is a beautifully – instructed new structure with receding lighting, marble floor and wooden panelled ceiling. Had to set on cold, hard surface with nothing between me and the floor but my sarong. Felt very uncomfortable – especially during charging – the pressure on knees and toes was terrible – plus I felt terribly tired and hungry. A talk on Vinaya (the monks' Discipline), followed by meditation, chanting another talk (on the hindrances), meditation, more chanting!"

The other scene was constant sleep deprivation and the long days (19 hours long). The day finished at 10 PM at the bell to get up rang at 3 AM again, followed by a cold shower to wake up and then more charging and an hours "meditation", which meant sleepiness discomfort and the struggle just to stay awake. While the months went on their arms round the lead people had chores such a sweeping ou the hall. The one and only meal was at about 8 AM. When one feel that one's bowl with as much as one could possibly eat.

"The meal a protracted affair All the lay people off of food to the months, the monks serve themselves and the bowls of food are passed from month to month and then to the laypeople. A long wait, chanting and then a very large meal open ( many things I would not have eaten in such quantity) - possibly more than I would have eaten if I'd had two meals."

This will be followed by cleaning up, more chores, walking meditation, at some stage a period of short rest was about followed by an afternoon of alternating walking meditation. The major event of the latter part of the day was when the monks and the laypeople would gather in the Ajahn's kuti for drinks and coffee that was so sweet you could stand your teaspoon in it. No wonder diabetes is so common amongst Thai monks!

One of the many things that hurt to me was that preponderance of things that were forbidden by Thai etiquette such as, at any stage, stretching ones feet out in front of one, sitting on the windowsill all rinsing out o'clock in the water container.

"I actually feel quite depressed and negative. So many things get on my nerves. I am tired of the excess of ritual including chanting and balance. It seems very strange to me. I am for ever afraid of putting foot wrong and wondering if I am some sort of 'pariah'. I am always getting critical stares and do not find the monks as helpful and friendly as they could be. It seems that this is not one of the most important qualities."

Well I was still sleeping in the upstairs above the kitchen one night I woke from a dream

" I work in the middle of the night, about 11.30, in a panic. I was sitting meditating (I thought) in the boat but had no clothes on. What was I to do?! The truck a moment or so to realise that I was in bed! Got up and went to the loo. Heavy night sleep. Did not get up at the bell but slept right through to 6.30"

I'm off the conceits I encountered amongst the monks was that one could only become "enlightened" if one was ordained as a monk.

"interesting talk with Israeli monk who is of the opinion that the passenger meditation is of little gain to lay people. Unless one reaches the stage of stream entered still condemned to rebirth. Therefore entering a monastery and giving up one's ego is the sole path."

Obviously this month have not given up his ego!

I had plenty of time to endulge in thought and planning. One major theme was whether I would go on to Sri Lanka, whether I would travel on to Europe etc. Also I began to crave sense papers and to dreamed of eating ice cream.

I left the monastery and returned to Bangkok. Naturally enough the ice cream was a disappointment.

For some reason – and I cannot fathom it looking back today – I made a return to Wat Vivek Asom where I stayed for about another week. As usual, in such a situation I was full of conflict and did not have the energy to practice intensively as I had before. I was confronted by one of the monks with something that has come up several times in my life that is to make a firm intention and to follow through with it. However, looking back I find it hard to understand I I went back there for a second time. After struggling with the mosquitoes, and it's, the food, I finally made an escape down to the south coast, to Koh Samet.

Back in Bangkok I bought a ticket to Europe via Colombo and finally, after three months in Thailand, took in the Air Lanka flight to Colombo.

In Sri Lanka - October - December, 1987

Nilambe retreat centre

5/10/1987

I feel a great feeling of peace and also greater awareness. The whole day has been spent productively. After morning meditation a short yoga session and then after breakfast spent the whole morning in my kuti doing both yoga and pranayama exercises and then 40 minutes of meditation outdoors.

Feel much more balanced with this concerted effort and feeling that I don't need to hurry – too often I am ruled by the clock, and in meditation am aware of how much time has elapsed and In yoga wish to get over as soon as possible and lose myself in distractions.

In the afternoon wrote a letter to Gerti trying to explain to her (and myself) some of the reasons why I am here. Sometimes I feel inspired by others, sometimes feel overwhelmed and "belittled" by my lack of "spiritual experiences" and meditation Really it's the concentration that is not there and which I wish to develop.

14/09/1987

It is damp and cold and so is my mood. Sun and warmth does such a lot to lighten the soul. When its wet and all your clothes are musty, your feet are dirty from walking in the mud and the food is insufficient – the mind is negative. Really it all comes from the mind. it's my reaction to the outside world.

My moods have been very changeable. I have had some good meditations – seated like a Zen master with perfectly straight spine, and good concentration, walking mindfully and calm. At other times the body is listless, heavy, the mind craving after food.

A couple of times I've descended to the bottom of the hill to buy chocolate biscuits to devour them - a craving of the body to compensate for the lack of good food – fruit,bread etc., that I feel I need, especially in this colder weather – Or is it just a distraction, a way out of boredom, just like going to sleep,or reading a book?

Yesterday had a good meditation, then back to kuti to do some pranayama on my bed After breakfast when we were talking about the lack of food (that we need more). I decided to walk down to the bottom of the hill to buy some bread – a slow, restful walk in the sun. Bought usual chocolate and biscuits and devoured them on the way up.

I need, I think, to accept these weaknesses, just say "OK" to them - just observe the way the mind works.

.....

Old themes keep coming back, such as:

"I get very sentimental about certain things – I miss the comfort of my relationship with Mum, the little nest of 8 Whitewash Head Road. It is a life that has just disappeared and I really do feel alone in the world. I. have tried to reach out to my family, but there's so little to share. I'll never become like them and they'll never understand me."

...

I had my first experience at Nilambe teaching yoga.

18/10/1987

Took a group for a yoga class but this morning and yesterday morning. Felt quite nervous beforehand, going over to different postures etc., in the meditation before the yoga session. When it came to take the class I found I was quite calm and able to talk about the exercises,their benefits etc., Although sometimes experience a slight difficulty in expressing myself (the names of postures, a weak knowledge of anatomy, necessary for teaching of yoga). This morning less plan but still worked out. The asana part goes quickly – a need to plan out sequences, explanations etc., beforehand. But I feel more confident and relaxed than I thought I would and feel I can do it – that I have something to offer and the fact that some questions have been asked afterwards show it..... Excellent practice for me – taking class – so it is a possibility when I go back to New Zealand.

One the characters that I met who turned up at Nilambe was John from Oklahoma, whom I had met previously during my time at Wat Pah Nanachat in Thailand....

19/10/1987

John arrived yesterday from Kandy. It was a really nice reunion, but the relaxation has gone – too much talk, enthusiasm, starry eyes, dhamma etc. sometimes a little difficult to keep up. By the time I left to go to Kandy I felt like silence – the need to be with myself, to unwind – I been on a high the last couple of days.

John sees changes in the way I am acting – obviously radiating more confidence and calm than in Thailand... It is true I feel very different here. Wat Pah Nanachat did nothing to enhance my self-esteem. I felt the pressure to conform – it wasn't just doing things I didn't want to but probably it wasn't what I needed at that stage of my development - and hence the conflict. A month at Nanachat felt like a month. Here time simply loses its meaning. I'm much more "in the present moment" them there.

This is a reasonable description of what it felt like to be on a bus in Sri Lanka or India…

Arrived at bus stop about 2.45. Waited perhaps 15–20 mins for bus to arrive. Then a mad rush for the bus and fighting to get aboard – total bedlam – needless to say I did not get a seat. Standing jam-packed like sardines with people pushing and shoving to get in and out of the bus instead of patiently waiting – airlessness compounded by cigarette smoke, a feeling of being crushed, and pushed and shoved, (and being a centre of attention and mirth for school boys). We stood in the bus for at least 30 minutes, probably longer before we took off. .... a long bus ride – managed to get out by sheer luck (or intuition). I thought that signposts which I half-pie recognised

by colour alone and realised that I was at Nilambe - so had to rush to the front to get off the bus! Quite extraordinary!

A good walk up through the wet and like.... rain (a little bit of restraint and eating my small bar of chocolate). Came back for a shower but had to run off to attend to a leech on my foot. By this time absolutely exhausted, so consumed my bar of chocolate and then to evening bhavana.

Godwin's approach to meditation and what I've learnt this weekend has been incredible.

This approach is basically a psychological one based on dealing with what he calls the monsters opening (greed, hatred and delusion) He has a different and far more relevant words for some of the Buddhist concepts (like the 5 hindrances) and of coming to terms with one's wounds (both those inflicted by others as well as feelings of guilt self-hatred bought out by "wrongdoing" in relationship to others – the failure to forgive ourselves these "misdeeds". So a great deal of emphasis on first developing a healthy ego, of learning to be "friendly to oneself" and to both forgive others, but most importantly, oneself.

Only then can emit loving kindness to others and to confront the "monsters" hit on, so he makes years of various aspects of psychotherapy and heating – such as rebirth thing, touch therapy, as well as metta meditation.

Meditation techniques

Development of focusing he does not like the word concentration – implies too much effort. It should happen in the natural way.

Listening to sounds develops focusing, awareness in a natural way and in a relaxed manner. He emphasises awareness of sites and sounds of nature – listening to birds, rain, watching hills, sunsets etc). Through this one can come in a very relaxed way to anapanasati the observation of the breath. The right attitude to thoughts, to daydreams and to the wandering mind is that it is natural and OK. One should not judge oneself for this, feel guilty, no preconceptions could be brought into meditation – just come back to the breath, note thoughts, sensations etc.

"Choiceless awareness" (a Krishnamurti term) or bare attention, is true vipassana. Often when one says "let thoughts come freely" they don't come.

Effort produces resistance – when one says "I must not think thoughts" they come thick and fast! Meditation should be fun, "playing with the mind", Learning how the mind works is the essence of meditation.

Godwin talks of problems of meditators who take themselves too seriously, are unable to laugh at themselves, is who trying to hard open (which produces tension, and often become aloof from other people, "superior", and cold, without compassion. Meditation must be balanced with social action and interaction with people.

.....

Godwin was invariably a kind and attentive teacher. He took time out with me to discuss my diet – how perhaps I should be using more salad so I had less gastric problems. He took me through a rebirthing session and asked me if I thought that perhaps another one would be useful – and perhaps I would stay little bit longer to get more out of what we get started. He was gentle consistent and never admonishing, other than in a very gentle way.

Looking back at my diary I can see that my mind was ceasing with finding the right diet, with how I would spend my time, making plans of a trip to India etc.

Autobiographical notes

(from my diary) - 22/10/1987

I feel like an only child.

My brother and sister are 8/9 years old respectively. I was spoilt by my parents and developed a special tender relationship with my mother who gave, I think, special affection and love, because I was a late child and perhaps had greater sensitivity. This has caused some resentment in Jeremy,who thinks that I was "too spoilt by Mum, who should have been harde

I was brought up on a farm, so was quite isolated. Just a few friends from neighboring farms, but no brother /sister contemporaries to play with, so developed more individualistic pursuits - fantasy - interesting cowboys and Indians, country and western music (John Hore), writing fan letters to favourite TV stars like Danny Kaye. I was interested in other countries and did projects on countries involved in drawing maps writing out information, mostly about the USA), writing stories (which I had "published" by Kathy who typed them at work,at Kodak. I developed an imagination and was interested in helping animals Dog and Horse Society, imaginary games with Dinky toys and towns built up from books etc., Playing "Thunderbirds" in the trees at

Waihi school, developing an interest in astronomy etc.

Attended local country school until I was nine, when I was sent off two boys boarding school, I think it was quite traumatic to be separated from family, and having difficult time because of a bedwetting problem which made me an object of teasing and bullying by other boys. I developed a greater sensitivity and kept more to myself, interested in reading, doing geography projects etc., Rather than outside pursuits – could never play team sports like rugby and cricket, which I always disliked and could not swim until I was about 13 (I am still a weak swimmer). Waihi days though, we're happy days.

13/11/1987

A murder at Nilambe

Dr Fernando has been murdered!

Early morning meditation and then yoga. Everything seemed as per normal until just before breakfast with a van pulled up almost running me over, and then at breakfast the terrible story came out.

First of all that was a petrol bomb attack on Pushpa and Chandra – at about midnight a petrol bomb was thrown through the back window of the cottage. They were sleeping together. Shandra was had by glass fragments – she had burning in the eyes. She saw flames which she. immediately extinguished with a blanket.

If she had not done so the whole building would have gone up in flames!

Then at 6 o'clock Christina went over to Dr Fernando to get him but found his car round the front of the house with headlights on, the engine running. She thought she saw a body and walked away – " don't be crazy!" - then finally came to find Dr Fernando's dead body in the gutter, head totally distorted and disfigured.

It seemed what happened was that there were some things taken and the was a struggle inside, with pools of blood inside the house and that the struggle continued outside and his bloody you sweater was found outside. What a shock! Nilambe seemed such a peaceful place in comparison with the madness all around, far removed from terrorism and danger - and now!

At first I saw myself as being quite removed and disinterested but I really have been shaken by this event. In meditation I could not really get image of Dr Fernando out of my mind and thoughts connected with the murder. I am pleased in a way that I have not much longer here – only another week.

Nilambe will never be the same!....

All the Sri Lankans here have been down to the bungalow to see the body, plus Ellie and Faith. I do not wish to go and see the bloody corpse – I don't think that not wishing to support myself to that site (the tree going up my way to see it), is running away from anything...

Strange that at 4 PM they were still waiting for a doctor to arrive to certify death etc. The body is still lying where it was, untouched....

16/11/1987

Everyone is on page this morning. The police were up wanting breakfast. Nisanka is sick with a fever and kidney pains and so out of action – so everyone is cooking. I slept down in the men's kuti and had to get up twice in the night. I felt really quite anxious and scared, hearing sounds in the night. Thank God I'm a sound sleeper.

The way this country is run this amazing. The police did not chase people away at all. People could come and go and look at the corpse, hang about, and discuss what they thought had happened quite openly. They could not get the papers together to get a doctor, came to take fingerprints about 18 hours late, after it had been raining, trying to read them in the dark (!); came with dogs 18 hours late – gave them broken glass to sniff to get a trail (?!) and found a link with the bungalow – of course, both Chris and Godwin had gone across!!

Godwin was amazing. It seemed as if nothing had happened – still smiling and apparently unaffected. Chris said he behaved at the bungalow with all the investigation etc., just the same as if he was at a garden party. he justjust at serving, not involved in what was happening, low obviously shaken. He kept repeating "what a way to die!"