I wrote a brief report about the smote class where I will studying in Kompong Speu, so I thought I would post it here to give a more-detailed picture of the art form and how it is taught.
Kompong Speu, one of poorest and least developed provinces in Cambodia, subject to both devastating drought and periodic flooding, is also the home of a remarkable class sponsored by Silapak Khmer Amatak (Cambodian Living Arts). I hesistate to call to the class of fifteen students a music class, because smote, a hauntingly beautiful form of funeral chant steeped in Buddhist teachings, is not often referred to as music by the Khmer people. An integral part of funeral rites in Cambodia, smote is performed by both monks and laypeople at a variety of religious functions, and thus is generally seen as outside the realm of secular music. Nevertheless, the smote chants are expressive, highly melodic and filled with emotional and spiritual significance, managing to transcend boundaries set by conventional definitions attributed to the sacred and secular realms alike.
Proum Uth, the master teacher for the class, brings a captivating voice, a depth of knowledge and a gentle prescence to the way he passes down the tradition of smote chants to his students. He is assisted by Kaut Ran, a smote teacher blind since the Pol Pot era, whose lively, strict and respectful approach adds further depth to the education of the students. As Master Proum Uth spends half his time as an achar, or lay Buddhist ritual specialist, at a wat outside of Phnom Penh, Master Kaut Ran also has considerable opportunity to instruct the students on her own.
The classroom for the smote class is situated in small village alongside the national road that passes through Kompong Speu Province. The village is home to two small wats, one at the summit of a small hill and the other at its base, and bright green rice fields, dotted with occassional palm and coconut trees, stretch out for miles in all directions, extending as far out as the forested mountains in neighboring provinces. The classroom itself is on the second level of a small, but well-kept wooden house at the edge of the village, and the students arrive from neighboring villages or from the local school by bike.
Every afternoon when the students assemble in the classroom, they begin with Pali and Khmer sacred chants that remind them to pay attention to the sacred nature of the smote tradition. These chants are not melodic like smote, but instead follow the traditional style of recitation of Buddhist scriptures in Cambodian wats. They then show respect to their masters and the teaching of the smote chants begins. Although the words to many of the smote chants are written down, the students, following ancient traditions of oral transmission both within Theravada Buddhism and traditional Khmer music, learn primarliy by ear, directly from the mouth and heart of the masters.
Smote holds a power to bring tears to the eyes of almost every Cambodian, as both its soulful, ethereal melodies and poetic lyrics, which speak to the bare reality of the suffering of human life, the impermanence of the body, and the mystery of death and transmigration to other realms, are heard at nearly every funeral ceremony across the country. Rarely, however, do Khmer people have a chance hear smote performed live, and most make do with an old, scratchy cassette recording. But in its live form smote is not only melancholy and somewhat frightening, but also terrifyingly beautiful, rich in poetic imagery and Buddhist philosophy.
Of all the forms of traditional Khmer music, smote seems to be the most distant from the popular trends in music today, especially for young Cambodians. But it is also very close to the heart of Khmer people everywhere, and when it is performed, its captivating and enchanting power ensures that it is not easily ignored. And the children who attend the class, ranging from about ten to seventeen years of age, with their bright smiles and playful manner, may seem like unlikely candidates to pass down this deep and mysterious art form. Yet every student, however talented she may be, brings an attitude of respect and seriousness to the class that is highly impressive, and points to both the importance of the art form and the ability of the masters to impress this importance upon their students. After listening to the students perform by themselves, it is hard not to imagine these chants not being passed down for many generations to come.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Smote Translation
Although the festival of Phchum Ben has already passed, I've been working on studying a smote chant that's traditionally connected with this Khmer holiday. Phchum Ben literally means "lump of food," but a more descriptive translation is "the festival of hungry ghosts." My language teacher gave me an old cassette recording of the chant, and I poked around in a few Khmer-language Buddhist bookstores before finding an accurate transcription of it.
What I've translated here consists of two parts, a prose introduction, which is recited and accompanied by a tro sau (the string instrument I've been studying here), followed by a section in rhymed and versed poetry, sung a cappella in the smote style. On the whole, it is very beautiful piece, though like most smote, it is exceptionally sad and melacholy, with a clear intention to make the listeners weep. I don't think my translation conveys much of this feeling at all, so I hesitate to call it anywhere near adequate; however, hopefully it will suffice to give an example of what some smoat chants are about.
Translation of Dumnuanpretrongkamma (“Lamentation of the hungry ghosts bearing the results of their sins”)
Prose introduction:
Dear honorable and noble people, young and old, men and women, the month of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts has arrived. Only think about going to the temple. Don’t just stay around the house or go out carelessly seeking pleasure, saying that giving doesn’t have a good taste and only alcohol has a good taste, cursing others as you pass by, wandering back and forth across the street. That’s enough already, please stop! Stop and reflect carefully, change yourself and do good by offering food with the others. In your free time, don’t be useless.
Smote chant (in verse):
Parents live in order to support their children. When the end of their life arrives, they don’t know where they will be reborn: on earth as humans, in heaven as gods, or in the realm of the hungry ghosts.
If they are born in the superior realms as humans or gods, this excellent state was reached for a reason, as were very fearful about falling into the lower realms and becoming hungry ghosts, where their poor bellies would be empty and without food.
Hungry ghosts only can eat pus, blood and excrement. With a miserable body worthy of pity, and a life full of terrible suffering, they don’t know when they will be reborn as humans again.
All this came about because of sins they committed to support their children, evil deeds which caused them to lose their human life and be reborn as ghosts, enduring suffering without a trace of happiness. All people, all beings, should reflect about this carefully.
Now it is the tenth month, the month of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts, and the ghosts are wailing and screaming because they miss their children. The ruler of hell is setting the ghosts free, and they come at night to find their ancestors, their children or their spouse.
How pitiful, how worthy of compassion! The ghosts have tears flowing from their eyes as they bear such heavy suffering. They go from temple to temple, watching carefully, but they don’t see their wife or children.
They only see the relatives of others. They think hard about food and nourishment, hoping there will be rice, water, bread, and sweets that invite the ancestors to come and eat, until all of them are full.
But the ghosts do not say anything. They are lonesome and abandoned, crying so pitifully, hitting their bodies near the temple, enduring terrible and immense suffering.
They pound their chests and wail loudly, screaming, “O! How pitiful this body is!” When they were humans they carried heavy loads on their backs, day and night never sleeping in order to support their children.
But now, without knowing, they have fallen into the realm of hungry ghosts. Let them eat so that they feel satisfied and don’t have to always think, “O! How full of suffering this body is—abandoned, sore, painful, and miserable!”
What I've translated here consists of two parts, a prose introduction, which is recited and accompanied by a tro sau (the string instrument I've been studying here), followed by a section in rhymed and versed poetry, sung a cappella in the smote style. On the whole, it is very beautiful piece, though like most smote, it is exceptionally sad and melacholy, with a clear intention to make the listeners weep. I don't think my translation conveys much of this feeling at all, so I hesitate to call it anywhere near adequate; however, hopefully it will suffice to give an example of what some smoat chants are about.
Translation of Dumnuanpretrongkamma (“Lamentation of the hungry ghosts bearing the results of their sins”)
Prose introduction:
Dear honorable and noble people, young and old, men and women, the month of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts has arrived. Only think about going to the temple. Don’t just stay around the house or go out carelessly seeking pleasure, saying that giving doesn’t have a good taste and only alcohol has a good taste, cursing others as you pass by, wandering back and forth across the street. That’s enough already, please stop! Stop and reflect carefully, change yourself and do good by offering food with the others. In your free time, don’t be useless.
Smote chant (in verse):
Parents live in order to support their children. When the end of their life arrives, they don’t know where they will be reborn: on earth as humans, in heaven as gods, or in the realm of the hungry ghosts.
If they are born in the superior realms as humans or gods, this excellent state was reached for a reason, as were very fearful about falling into the lower realms and becoming hungry ghosts, where their poor bellies would be empty and without food.
Hungry ghosts only can eat pus, blood and excrement. With a miserable body worthy of pity, and a life full of terrible suffering, they don’t know when they will be reborn as humans again.
All this came about because of sins they committed to support their children, evil deeds which caused them to lose their human life and be reborn as ghosts, enduring suffering without a trace of happiness. All people, all beings, should reflect about this carefully.
Now it is the tenth month, the month of the Festival of Hungry Ghosts, and the ghosts are wailing and screaming because they miss their children. The ruler of hell is setting the ghosts free, and they come at night to find their ancestors, their children or their spouse.
How pitiful, how worthy of compassion! The ghosts have tears flowing from their eyes as they bear such heavy suffering. They go from temple to temple, watching carefully, but they don’t see their wife or children.
They only see the relatives of others. They think hard about food and nourishment, hoping there will be rice, water, bread, and sweets that invite the ancestors to come and eat, until all of them are full.
But the ghosts do not say anything. They are lonesome and abandoned, crying so pitifully, hitting their bodies near the temple, enduring terrible and immense suffering.
They pound their chests and wail loudly, screaming, “O! How pitiful this body is!” When they were humans they carried heavy loads on their backs, day and night never sleeping in order to support their children.
But now, without knowing, they have fallen into the realm of hungry ghosts. Let them eat so that they feel satisfied and don’t have to always think, “O! How full of suffering this body is—abandoned, sore, painful, and miserable!”
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Kampot Province
A couple of days ago my Khmer teacher and I were acting out a scenario between two friends taking a weekend trip to the countryside. As usual, I was struggling to find the right words appropriate to the situation, but my teacher, who hadn't taken a trip out to the provinces in years, got so excited about it that he insisted that we go the coming weekend. It's always good practice for me to speak with people in the countryside, who generally speak different dialects than in the city, so I was also excited to leave Phnom Penh for a brief while.
We traveled to Kampot province, which borders the ocean at the southwestern corner of the country. This part of the country is not nearly as flooded as the part along the road to Siem Reap, where it sometimes seemed that we were driving across an immense lake. In contrast, Kampot province, full of beautiful rivers and mountains, was relatively dry. I am sorry that I didn't bring a camera along, because the areas we visited are among the most beautiful I have ever seen, in Cambodia and in the world.
Along the way, we stopped near a hill that had many caves. The caves, inhabited and used as temples for well over a thousand years, are still a site for religious pilgrims. Although a Buddhist wat has been constructed near the caves, the temples inside date from the sixth century, long before Buddhism became the state religion. Thus the temples are dedicated to tutelary spirits (neak ta) or Brahmanistic deities (usually Shiva). We had a chance to talk to a lot of people about the history of the caves, though I admit I didn't understand everything the people were saying. But some of the young boys who lived near the caves were able to show us into some unbelievable caverns and beautiful spaces. I thought only small kids like them would be able to fit through some of the tunnels or be comfortable wading through the water, but in fact the majority of visitors to the caves were elderly women, who showed no fear and always wore wide smiles. One of the caves we visited, very deep into the earth, had a set of rock formations that sounded like a pin peat orchestra when struck. It was a remarkable sight to see how intertwined the religious sights were with the natural formations of the caves.
We then continued on to the city of Kampot itself. A former neighbor of my teacher when he was living in Kompong Sam province lived near the market in Kampot. She and her family of five welcomed us very graciously into her home. Although I've been in the country for a month and a half now, I still hadn't had a meal or slept in a traditional Khmer home or bathed in the traditional way, and as I am probably going to live with the family of the smoat master in Konpong Speu province in the coming weeks, it was good to have the chance to experience what it might be like. The family were staying had built their home next to a small garbage dump, in a squatter neighborhood inhabiting by many Vietnamese (Kampot is close to Vietnam). They did, however, have electricity and one pipe with running water. The family was one of the most welcoming I have ever known, and we were able to have some good conversations together.
Before returning to their house to sleep, we visited Kep, a small town by the ocean. Kep is situated at the edge of a very large bay ringed with islands and dramatic mountains, and the view from the town is spectacular, especially as the sun sets over the ocean. We went swimming the ocean, where the water is refreshing but not at all cold. And it was all strangely deserted, with very people near the waterfront or among the few houses in the town.
The next day we traveled to Mt. Bokor National Park, a beautiful forested region with clear, cool air and beautiful rivers. We came across a large family near one of the rivers and joined them for some swimming in the clear water flowing down from the mountain. Along the way, I had plenty of chances to meet the local people, including the abbot of a small mountain temple, and practice speaking with them, so although this weekend seemed like a vacation, I was glad to get some "studying" in. I definitely learned a good deal this weekend, both about the language and the culture, from having the opportunity to see a different region of the country, and I am excited to spend more time in the countryside in the future.
We traveled to Kampot province, which borders the ocean at the southwestern corner of the country. This part of the country is not nearly as flooded as the part along the road to Siem Reap, where it sometimes seemed that we were driving across an immense lake. In contrast, Kampot province, full of beautiful rivers and mountains, was relatively dry. I am sorry that I didn't bring a camera along, because the areas we visited are among the most beautiful I have ever seen, in Cambodia and in the world.
Along the way, we stopped near a hill that had many caves. The caves, inhabited and used as temples for well over a thousand years, are still a site for religious pilgrims. Although a Buddhist wat has been constructed near the caves, the temples inside date from the sixth century, long before Buddhism became the state religion. Thus the temples are dedicated to tutelary spirits (neak ta) or Brahmanistic deities (usually Shiva). We had a chance to talk to a lot of people about the history of the caves, though I admit I didn't understand everything the people were saying. But some of the young boys who lived near the caves were able to show us into some unbelievable caverns and beautiful spaces. I thought only small kids like them would be able to fit through some of the tunnels or be comfortable wading through the water, but in fact the majority of visitors to the caves were elderly women, who showed no fear and always wore wide smiles. One of the caves we visited, very deep into the earth, had a set of rock formations that sounded like a pin peat orchestra when struck. It was a remarkable sight to see how intertwined the religious sights were with the natural formations of the caves.
We then continued on to the city of Kampot itself. A former neighbor of my teacher when he was living in Kompong Sam province lived near the market in Kampot. She and her family of five welcomed us very graciously into her home. Although I've been in the country for a month and a half now, I still hadn't had a meal or slept in a traditional Khmer home or bathed in the traditional way, and as I am probably going to live with the family of the smoat master in Konpong Speu province in the coming weeks, it was good to have the chance to experience what it might be like. The family were staying had built their home next to a small garbage dump, in a squatter neighborhood inhabiting by many Vietnamese (Kampot is close to Vietnam). They did, however, have electricity and one pipe with running water. The family was one of the most welcoming I have ever known, and we were able to have some good conversations together.
Before returning to their house to sleep, we visited Kep, a small town by the ocean. Kep is situated at the edge of a very large bay ringed with islands and dramatic mountains, and the view from the town is spectacular, especially as the sun sets over the ocean. We went swimming the ocean, where the water is refreshing but not at all cold. And it was all strangely deserted, with very people near the waterfront or among the few houses in the town.
The next day we traveled to Mt. Bokor National Park, a beautiful forested region with clear, cool air and beautiful rivers. We came across a large family near one of the rivers and joined them for some swimming in the clear water flowing down from the mountain. Along the way, I had plenty of chances to meet the local people, including the abbot of a small mountain temple, and practice speaking with them, so although this weekend seemed like a vacation, I was glad to get some "studying" in. I definitely learned a good deal this weekend, both about the language and the culture, from having the opportunity to see a different region of the country, and I am excited to spend more time in the countryside in the future.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Translation
Translation has been something that I developed an interest in over the past several years, and if I continue with my current plan to study a form of funeral chanting, I will need to work on my Khmer reading and translating skills a lot more. So to practice this, I have been working on translating some of the writings of But Savong, a Khmer lay Buddhist teacher. My Khmer teacher introduced his work to me, and he uses very simple language, usually not specifically Buddhist, to express his wise approach to life. But Savong, well-regarded throughout Cambodia and the countries of the Khmer diaspora, is not a monk, but wears the white robes of an acar, owns no personal possesions, and spends all of time giving lectures on Buddhist teaching to people who request. The following is a translation of a talk of his from his book Words of the Parents. My knowledge of Khmer is pretty limited, so I'm sticking to a fairly literal translation so as not to obsure his meaning.
Translation of “The Virtue of Difficulties” (gun nei sechkdeylumbak)
Written by Teacher But Savong in Words of the Parents
Dear beloved child,
Your parents are just like all the other people, in that they should not give themselves difficulties nor give difficulties to their children. There are no parents who wish that their own children be desperately poor and saddled with difficulties, but even so, sometimes children encounter difficulties because their parents cannot make them happy in all ways.
Considering this point, you should always bear in mind that to have difficulties in life is not really bad at all. To have difficulties is not venomous, cruel or brutal, and nor should we see the suffering of these difficulties in just one way. If we look carefully into what we are studying, seeing the various components of goodness and the usefulness of having difficulties, we can practice accordingly and see how difficulties give us immense strength and resolve, the power to think clearly and the chance to be persons of importance, just as iron that passes through the furnace is made into a stronger and more useful material.
Our difficulties teach us to become adept at helping ourselves, because we sometimes have to struggle intensely in order to conquer them. There are not few among us who are able to react well to difficulties by holding to the idea of “difficult before, easy later,” which is to say that with patience and perseverance, we can tread between difficulty and ease and reach superior happiness and prosperity.
On the other hand, there are not few among us who have only known happiness since they were born, and who have never known and never met any difficulties. When they come across difficulties, they can barely help themselves. They attempt but cannot succeed, grab but cannot hold on, and whether their work is heavy or light, they do not know how to do it, and this continues until they can barely live and hover close to death. There are some who cannot withstand any difficulties, and thus they lose their life.
Therefore, please do not be afraid of difficulties and always bear in mind that our difficulties are our mentor. You should stand up on your own through your difficulties by cultivating patience and should use your difficulties to increase the virtue in your heart. You should use your difficulties as lessons for yourself, lessons which you should study so as not to return to the same difficulties again.
Translation of “The Virtue of Difficulties” (gun nei sechkdeylumbak)
Written by Teacher But Savong in Words of the Parents
Dear beloved child,
Your parents are just like all the other people, in that they should not give themselves difficulties nor give difficulties to their children. There are no parents who wish that their own children be desperately poor and saddled with difficulties, but even so, sometimes children encounter difficulties because their parents cannot make them happy in all ways.
Considering this point, you should always bear in mind that to have difficulties in life is not really bad at all. To have difficulties is not venomous, cruel or brutal, and nor should we see the suffering of these difficulties in just one way. If we look carefully into what we are studying, seeing the various components of goodness and the usefulness of having difficulties, we can practice accordingly and see how difficulties give us immense strength and resolve, the power to think clearly and the chance to be persons of importance, just as iron that passes through the furnace is made into a stronger and more useful material.
Our difficulties teach us to become adept at helping ourselves, because we sometimes have to struggle intensely in order to conquer them. There are not few among us who are able to react well to difficulties by holding to the idea of “difficult before, easy later,” which is to say that with patience and perseverance, we can tread between difficulty and ease and reach superior happiness and prosperity.
On the other hand, there are not few among us who have only known happiness since they were born, and who have never known and never met any difficulties. When they come across difficulties, they can barely help themselves. They attempt but cannot succeed, grab but cannot hold on, and whether their work is heavy or light, they do not know how to do it, and this continues until they can barely live and hover close to death. There are some who cannot withstand any difficulties, and thus they lose their life.
Therefore, please do not be afraid of difficulties and always bear in mind that our difficulties are our mentor. You should stand up on your own through your difficulties by cultivating patience and should use your difficulties to increase the virtue in your heart. You should use your difficulties as lessons for yourself, lessons which you should study so as not to return to the same difficulties again.
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Pictures from the Tonle Bassac Community
Master Tep Mori's pin peat and dance class
Trying out a keyboard at the home of an instrument maker
Playing Khmer mahori music with instrument maker and younger relative
Master Ki Mum's yike opera class
Talking with Master Tep Mori
More pictures from Wat Atwear
Silapak Khmer Amatak (Cambodian Living Arts) students playing pin peat music for Pchum Ben at Wat Atwear, Siem Reap
Rice fields near Wat Atwear, Siem Reap
Monday, October 03, 2005
Back in Town
| I've been a little busy and away from blogging for the past few days, but I am now back in Phnom Penh after a few days in Siem Reap with my high school friend Ryan. Ryan Kellett has been spending this semester on the falculty of Shantou University in Shantou, China, where his position is to produce and direct a musical in three months for the annual English festival. It has been amazing to hear some of stories of this 19-year-old teacher and his students in China, and I am glad that I will be able to hear more from him over the next five days that he is living with me in Phnom Penh. So, Ryan's permission, here are two links of Ryan's accounts of what we have done together for the past few days: A Flood of Flowers and Something in the Atmosphere |
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