Day Two. Wednesday, 10 September 2014

In the morning, I find the Vihara (monastery) has another guest: a Burmese student from London whose parents are lay disciples of the abbot. He is to return to London today and the abbot has a word for him: Mudita, usually translated as sympathetic joy, and usually interpreted as joy for others’ success, welfare and happiness.

But according to Dr Khammai Dhammasami, Mudita should begin with oneself: If one does something good, one should feel glad about it and not feel distressed about the bad things others are saying about it.

Listening to it, it strikes me that maybe that message is also meant for me who is involved in the peace process that has stirred up a lot of controversies among friends and foes alike.

After breakfast, he asks his assistant monk to show me around the town. My young Burmese friend volunteers to go with us and we decide to take a stroll along the Thames whose headwater lies not far from the town. On our way there, we drop in at a Tesco convenient store to buy a few loaves of bread to feed the ducks that roam the river.

The morning is pleasantly sunny and people, old and young, are out to enjoy the sun, some jogging, some cycling and some just walking like us, a few of them bringing their children and dogs.

When we return, there are old schoolmates waiting for me who are coming to drive us to the School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS), pronounced simply as “So-As”, where I’ve been invited to give a talk on the peace process,17:00-19:00.

There are, I think, about 40 people coming to listen, of whom 10 of them are Shans, but no media. Many of them, not all, are understandably unfamiliar with acronyms likes NCCT, UNFC, UPCC, UPWC and NDSC. So it takes me quite a while. The presentation is kindly moderated by Dr Gustaaf Houtman.

A few of them also asks questions about the Panglong Agreement and the Scottish referendum, which is being closely followed by many Shans and no doubt by Naypyitaw.

After the talks, a small party is thrown for people to know each other better. It is there that I meet U Maung Maung Than, Bo Bo and Moe Myint from the BBC who invite me to visit their office after my return from Brighton, where another conference awaits us.

One peculiar thing that I notice about the traffic lights on our way back late in the evening is that, unlike those in Thailand, where the red (stop light) is immediately followed by green (“you may go now”), yellow appears briefly before green here. Back in Thailand, the yellow light is inserted only after green/before red.

I ask my friends most of whom, like myself, come from Thailand. Why my second home country does things different. They have no idea either.

Perhaps Thai authorities, knowing their own people, are trying to prevent further unnecessary traffic accidents, I conclude pro tempore as the car stops in front of a shop to allow me to buy some newspapers so I could educate myself more on what’s happening in Scotland.