At Europe’s largest Buddhist monastery, silence is a precious commodity

It was after midnight when we arrived at Plum Village. By this time, Europe’s largest Buddhist monastery had been reduced to a few single-story buildings looming in the shadows. The distance from the city was measured by the number of stars in the sky, the constant buzz of insects in the gardens. You could see no one, or hear anyone. All that remained was a warm, humid silence that foreshadowed a summer storm. All that remained was a flight to Bordeaux, a bus to the city’s train station, a train to Sainte-Foy-la-Grand, and a 45-minute drive. We left Lisbon just before 5pm and arrived in the southern French countryside in the early hours of the next day.

On the last leg of the journey to Plum Village, Max is behind the wheel, leading the way for us – the Ukrainian has put his life on hold since 2014 when he became Brother Dai Liang (large capacity). He will be the only monk to tell us his real name, even before the Vietnamese “nickname” given to him by the monastic community. He does this, he says, to “make things easier”. Maybe because you have realized that we are still virgins in these wanderings. Maybe because five years ago, Max was exactly in our position. The small, frail monk, with very bright blue eyes and pimples on his cheeks, was a journalist for a German magazine, like us, on his way to the Plum Village retreat for a report. He was 20 years old, and that week changed him “profoundly”. He returned to the monastery during the holidays, but soon after resigned and stayed for a year. It did not arrive. He enrolled as a seminarian and is about to complete five years of monastic training. With two more to go, he admits that he has not yet decided what to do next: whether to stay in the monastery or return to civil society. He only knows that he does not miss his previous life.

“The greatest pleasure for me was reading a book and then interviewing the author on the subject”, he recalls. When he was still a journalist, Max wrote mainly about “the intersection between science, psychology and religion”. We can say that Black is not innocent in the new path he has chosen. “I also have a lot of books here and talk to very interesting people.” The difference? “Before, everything was very cerebral; now, everything is very cerebral. It comes from the head. Now, it has more meaning, more depth. Come in. “He points to his chest and says calmly, almost in a whisper.

Arriving at Plum Village, we left our shoes at the door of the main building and went upstairs to our room. The groaning of the floorboards filled the night. Of the three beds, only one was occupied. We chose the farthest one so as not to wake Ingrid, a German woman of Mexican descent whom we would get to know better only on our last night (we were leaving on Tuesday morning, three days from now). We set the alarm: 5:30 a.m. The first meditation session began at 6 a.m.

Walk silently

The darkness that invades the room when we sleep is the same darkness we wake up from. The only sound that can be heard outside is the slow thump of footsteps on gravel, as the animals hum. Inside the meditation room, there are already dozens of monks and nuns, draped in brown cloaks and bareheaded, and hundreds of young civilians who are still drowsy. There are a few free rugs and chairs scattered on the floor. This is where we admit it: we have never meditated in our lives. Similar, if it can be compared, to a few yoga classes. That’s it. We choose a chair – we are not going to try to get into lotus pose.