Faith in traditional Buddhist arts

Practice makes perfect at the Buddhist school in Luang Prabang, Laos. Picture / Jim Eagles

The latest addition to my collection of gods from around the world is a rather roughly carved wooden statue of Buddha standing with his hands by his sides - a style unique to Laos - a figure which represents a great investment by the New Zealand taxpayer.

It was carved by a young monk at the Wat Xieng Muan monastery, in Luang Prabang, at a school for Buddhist arts that our taxes helped to set up.

Go there any day and you'll find young monks eagerly learning how to carve in wood, cast in bronze, apply gold leaf, draw and paint in traditional style.

Those are skills that almost died out after the Communist Pathet Lao took over the country in 1975 and tried to stamp out Buddhism.

Popular resentment forced a gradual back-down but unfortunately by the time it was decided to allow the faith to flourish again there was nowhere young monks could go to learn about Buddhist art.

Which is where New Zealand came in.

As a notice in the monastery forecourt enthusiastically acknowledges, our Government responded to a plea from Unesco by paying for the old monks' quarters to be converted into a classroom where those old skills could be taught.

It's a delightful setting for a school, in the grounds of a temple which - according to my Lonely Planet guide to Laos - is noted for its particularly fine sculpture and painting, and also has several lovely old trees to provide shade.

On the two days I visited, I couldn't find anyone who spoke much English - apart from the monk sweeping out the temple who told me on my first visit: "Come back tomorrow morning" - so it wasn't possible to discuss the programme's success.

But, really, the scene spoke for itself.

In an open-air, roofed area alongside the school building, a dozen monks were industriously carving Buddhas, serpents and other decorations in wood.

Supervising them was an old chap in a white singlet and flat cap who looked as though he might have bought his wardrobe in the north of England.

A query about whether he spoke English produced only a curt grunt of disapproval.

But my sign-language request as to whether it would be okay to take photos met with a brief smile and a nod.

This was obviously a stern disciplinarian because his students kept on carving without even looking up.

There was a more relaxed atmosphere in the restored monastery building where more young monks were sitting at a row of desks crammed into the entrance lobby, watching a monk, who looked to be in his late 20s, draw a traditional lotus design on a blackboard. The young monks then carefully copied it into their exercise books.

This time when I indicated I wanted to take a photo, the teacher shook his head and put his hands over his face.

But the students laughingly chastised him and he eventually agreed, though he did take care to keep his back to the camera.

Colour photos of Buddha figures being cast in bronze and then having gold leaf applied to them adorned the walls of the classroom - but none of that was going on during my visit.

Another part of the building had a sign saying "showroom" and inside were several bronze Buddhas as well as Buddhist carvings in wood, paintings and drawings which, another sign explained, had been produced by the students to raise funds for the school.

When I chose the carving I wanted to buy, one of the young monks - who looked to be in his early teens - looked very pleased and seemed to indicate that he had made it.

It cost me US$20 ($28) which is about twice what I would have had to pay for a better carving in the city's bustling markets.

Nevertheless I considered it money well spent ... and the New Zealand money that went into establishing the school was obviously well spent, too.

* Jim Eagles travelled to Laos as guest of World Expeditions and Singapore Airlines.