Lunch varies at the monastery. Some days there’s nothing more than rice and dal served from buckets. Other days, they serve “special lunches,” funded by sponsors who offer money in exchange for pujas performed by the monastery.
Navigating the lunch line is politically tricky. Staff members like Chemey and Lepa usually line up behind the senior monks (“senior” doesn’t necessarily refer to age, but rather the number of years spent as a monk). The junior monks crowd in the back.
Other staff wait even longer.
Bennett and I typically aim toward the end of the line, but we’re handed plates and forced politely to the front. It’s hard to cut in front of people who aspire to end suffering for all sentient beings. Although I suppose it’s easy for precisely the same reason.
