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Autumn 2007Autumn 2007Autumn 2007Autumn 2007

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In this issue: Vajradevi on her long retreat in Burma Anjali on a pioneering performance in the theatre. Maitridevi on the total immersion retreat.

Loren Treisman

on volunteering in Uganda Kulaprabha’s

week in residence Aloka, the community with no house. Plus:

Mij Wilkinson

and Pearl

Wallace-Fletcher talk about the library, bookshop and second-hand bookshop.

For many years, Regulars’ night was always the gather-ing point for the Sangha. I remember Vajrananda – the men’s Mitra convenor be-fore me – would always im-press on new Mitras that when they joined a Mitra group, they would still be expected to attend the Regu-lars’ Night as well. But over the years, numbers dwindled until it stopped. The demise of Regulars’ Nights has been observed throughout the FWBO; but so too has been their reinstate-ment. It seems that people started missing a regular weekly occasion to connect with the wider Sangha. The Cambridge Sangha is a very peculiar beast. There are more Order members than Mitras, and a great many Mitras who have finished Mitra study; this means that close to 200 people have no regular connection with the Centre. It is also strange because we have such a large number of rooms in the Centre: I think this has allowed us to fragment into a myriad of small groups, who rarely cross over. For all these reasons, and more, I launched Sangha Night. And I’ve been very encour-aged by the response: so many people have told me how happy they are that it has re-started, and there has been a good number of people coming to the first weeks (including some venerable faces that are rarely seen in the Buddhist Centre).

It is different to the old Regulars’ Night (or its offspring, Mandala Night). Its main aim is not to educate (it’s not called Dharma Night). I see it as an occasion to come to-gether, to share inspira-tion and enthusiasm, as well as simply to experi-ence ourselves as a Sangha. I would like con-tributors to feel able to experiment a little, both in terms of content and

format. Maybe someone will offer some ex-perimental ritual; or talk about their own un-derstanding of spiritual life; or workshop on some connection between an art-form and Dharma…. And I hope they won’t be limited by my own imagination. For this reason it is aimed at Order members and experienced Mitras. While anyone is wel-come, they need to know that the discourse is aimed at Buddhists. This is why I’ve changed the name to Sangha night: it’s for the Sangha of people in Cambridge who’re going for Ref-uge to the three Jewels, and don’t mind that being assumed of them. So attendants are as-sumed to have a good Dharma knowledge: the leaders of Sangha night are briefed to pitch the level to Order members. On the launch night, I referred to an image that appeals to me, but maybe not many oth-ers: the image of radioactive critical mass! Little bits of radioactive matter, when in iso-lated lumps, just quietly fizzle away to them-selves. ►

Sangha Night renewed Vajrapriya on the best way to spend your Thursday evening

◄ But when they are brought close together, they can reach critical mass, in which they capture each others energy, and are triggered off by it to generate more energy themselves. You get a chain reaction, which can result in nuclear explosion, or the controlled energy output of a nuclear power station.

I’m often surprised by the synergistic benefits of simply being around at events: I usually have a few conversa-tions with people who’ve got some-thing they want to suggest or ask, but just haven’t gotten around to sharing it. There’s no replacement for casual con-tact, and no telling what can come out of it.

In Cambridge we must have a critical mass of Buddhists! What would hap-pen if we come closer together, and share our energy? I feel sure that there would be a release of creative energy as we are sparked off by one another. I don’t know what form it will take, but I’m looking forward to finding out. ■

Sangha Night Programme

Thursday 15th November 2007 - 7.30pm - 9.30pm Vajrasadhu Build up to Sangha Day Festival

Thursday 22nd November 2007 - 7.30pm - 9.30pm Sangharakshita Talk on his teachers and book signing

Thursday 29th November 2007 - 7.30pm - 9.30pm Satyanandi Exploring the elements 1

Thursday 6th December 2007 - 7.30pm - 9.30pm Satyanandi Exploring the elements 2

Thursday 13th December 2007 - 7.30pm - 9.30pm Akasadeva Music in the Dharma

Thursday 20th December 2007 - 7.30pm - 9.30pm Sangha Night Team Festive Frolics

Would you like to offer something to Sangha Night? You could join the team,

or offer an evening activity. Contact Vajrapriya@CambridgeBuddhistCentre.com

Burma Burma has been much in the news recently as the military government violently suppressed peaceful

protests by monks, nuns and laypeople. Below: Buddhists protest in Cambridge. Opposite: Vajradevi

recalls her long retreat in Burma before the recent problems.

On 27th September, Vajrapriya organised a march from the Centre to the Guildhall in sup-port of the Burmese monks. Approximately 80 peo-ple gathered outside the Centre where they chanted “Sabbe satta sukhi hontu” - may all beings be well and happy. Some holding placards and others the Buddhist flag, they marched in silence to the Guildhall, where they chanted again. Afterwards some people

meditated on the steps of the Guildhall while others got members of the public to sign a petition in further support for the people of Burma. Vajrapriya commented “Cambridge boasts the highest proportion of Buddhists in the UK, so it is particularly apt to march to show support and solidarity with the monks and people of Burma.” ■

Three months in Burma Vajradevi talks about her long retreat in Burma, before the recent troubles.

In January this year I fulfilled a long held wish on two counts. The first was to have a long meditation retreat and the second was to do this retreat in Burma. I have

been meditating for over twenty years but since my first retreat with a Bur-mese teacher seven years ago I have felt very strongly I wanted to practice in Burma. On New Year’s Day 2007 I flew to Yangon, the capital of what is now called Myanmar. There are many complex issues sur-rounding this beautiful country and one of them is to do with its name. The military government renamed it Myan-mar which most local people use. This was its original name before British colonisation in 1885. The British called it Burma after the predominant tribe - the Burmans. Most exiles still call it Burma to express opposition to the military government. Whilst I was there I called it Myanmar but in the mythical sense that I feel I relate to the place, Burma is the name on my tongue so that's how I'll refer to it here. I arrived at the meditation centre, an hour from Yangon, jet-lagged and with a bad cold. I was pleased that the sur-rounding area was countryside with bullocks pulling wooden ploughs across fields and exotic trees such as banyan, mango and banana trees sport-ing real bananas! The Centre itself is a number of concrete buildings con-nected by covered wooden walkways along a concrete strip used for walking meditation. There was little in the way of formal introduction to the centre once I'd been presented to the Abbott and assigned a room. I was very glad to meet up with Akashavira, a Swiss Order Member, who has been at the meditation centre for sometime. He is a mine of local information and befriends a lot of new arrivals and helps them settle in.

That evening I met with the teacher for instruction into the meditation practice and then found my way to the Dhamma Hall to set up some cushions on the beautiful teak floor. There were on average 200 people at the centre during the 3 months I was there. About half were nuns from Burma, Vietnam, Korea and Malaysia. Most of the others were Theravada Bhikkus from the East and several from the US and Australia. There were many Burmese lay women practitio-ners, some who came regularly from Yangon, leaving their families for a few weeks at a time. Apart from the monastics we dressed in white shirts with brown 'lungyis'. There were usu-ally about 25 English speaking 'yogis'. I very much appreciated the mixture of practitioners - we felt like a large har-monious community. The emphasis at the Centre is on medi-tation, but more fundamentally on awareness. The meditation practice is drawn from the satipatthana sutta, the Buddha’s great sutta about mindful-ness. We particularly paid attention to awareness of mind - to what was hap-pening in our minds, and by extension, to experience happening through the other 5 senses and the body. I had practiced in a similar way for a number of years though this felt subtly and profoundly different. Apart from the programme of sitting and walking meditation we were encouraged to cul-tivate a continuity of awareness through all our daily activities such as dressing, washing and eating. One sur-prise for me was that a certain amount of talking was allowed whereas most vipassana retreats are held in silence. The teacher encouraged us to experi-ment with how much talking we could do without losing the thread of aware-ness. One feature that particularly struck me was the level of generosity between people. If someone needed something that you had, it felt very easy to give it without hesitation. Small or large gifts - massages, fruit and sweets, medical

consultations – were given all the time. I think this is because Dana is so deeply embedded in the Burmese cul-ture and psyche. The meditation centre was run entirely on a dana basis with large donations coming from Bud-dhists in Taiwan, Korea and Vietnam. I could have stayed for 3 months and 'paid' nothing for my visit and that would have been absolutely fine. The other quality that was expressed time and time again was gratitude. I shared in a sense of feeling incredibly fortunate, particularly for the teaching and the opportunity to practice. This feeling of gratitude brought about the feeling of wanting to give wherever I could, and there were many natural opportunities. You could opt to pay for a meal one day or for the afternoon juice of sugarcane or the less pleasant salty plum juice! Whilst I was there the mud bridge allowing access to the vil-lage was in danger of collapse and unlikely to last the approaching rainy season. Within hardly any time we had collected over $500 - more than enough for the construction of a new bridge. We also collected money for food for the local nuns living in flimsy bamboo huts; some of the nuns were as young as 4 years old. One of the most moving things I ex-perienced was following the monks on alms round through the local village. It felt very powerful to witness an unbro-ken practice going back to the days of the Buddha. It is definitely 'alms round meditation' for the bhikkhus. They walk quite briskly, eyes downcast stopping only at the many villagers waiting to silently offer cooked rice. It took me ages to realise that the col-lected rice fed not only the monks, but also all the rest of us. People who were so obviously poor gave with such de-votion - and I was eating the gift! What a rich time, living within a Bud-dhist culture where devotion to the Buddha is completely natural. I learned so much about meditation and working with my mind. I hope to re-turn before too long. ■

Practice in the City Judith Rumgay recalls the Urban Retreat led by Kulaprabha

The week of the 14 – 19 October 2007 heralded a new venture at the Centre, as Kulaprabha – the retreat team leader at Taraloka – led an urban retreat. Six-teen people came together on Day One for a full day of meditation and reflec-tion on the forthcoming attempt to deepen their practice by evoking the experience of being on retreat while living out their normal everyday lives. Participants clarified their personal goals for the week, chose the medita-tion and other spiritual practices that they would use, identified reminders that would trigger ‘retreat mode’ and contemplated how they would meet the likely challenges ahead. For the following five days, the urban retreatants pursued their aspirations, drawing on the support of the group in a variety of ways: early morning medi-tation and breakfast at the Centre; bud-dying with a fellow participant; a mid-week review meeting; individual inter-views with Kulaprabha; reporting in via email; and supper followed by a puja to celebrate the week’s comple-tion. Sceptics who adhere to the belief that retreat is only possible in remote rural settings, as far from the distractions of home and work as possible, would be surprised by the richness of this ex-perience. Kulaprabha drew our atten-tion at the outset to the importance of maintaining and strengthening practice in the context of everyday life, with all

its distractions, irritations and chal-lenges. Drawing on a work delightfully entitled The Embossed Teakettle, she quoted this graphic metaphor for the ‘life of activity compared with life of calm’: Because the lotus that blooms in the

water withers when it comes near to

fire, fire is the dread enemy of the lo-

tus. Yet the lotus that blooms from the

midst of flames becomes all the more

beautiful and fragrant the nearer the

fire rages.

Participants found their own idiosyn-cratic ways to stimulate ‘retreat mode’: sticking post-it messages on the cup-boards saying ‘one thing at a time’; taking a short walk to reduce the pace of a hectic working day; or restricting - even relinquishing – activities such as emailing, watching television or read-ing novels. For those who managed it (a surprising number!), the early morn-ing meditation and breakfast at the Centre brought a strong sense of mu-tual engagement in retreat and helped to sustain involvement throughout the day. Others, some of whom could at-tend only a few of the retreat meetings, nevertheless reported that they bene-fited from the knowledge that they were sharing in a venture in which di-verse lives were connected by a unify-ing theme and aspiration. Some recounted their progress in keeping to their resolves by email, thus spurring their incen-tive to have something positive to report. During the week, Kulaprabha led several events that were open to non-participants in the Urban Retreat. A study session for women on the perfection of wisdom, which included a guided meditation, was thought provoking: Kulaprabha drew attention to the significance of our ‘gut’ emotional reactions to the Buddha’s deeper teachings, suggesting we could often learn more about deepening our prac-tice by attending to these than

by attempting to maintain study as a purely ‘head’ exercise. A talk and guided meditation on the Brahma Vi-haras, given to the Tuesday lunchtime Drop-in class was well attended and provided an experience of reflection and meditation on positive emotions that many regular attenders there would not have gained elsewhere. Ku-laprabha’s talk to Sangha Night, on the subject of taking risks and going forth, was inspirational, combining several strands of the Buddha’s teachings with illustrations from her personal experi-ence. Finally, a rousing finale to the week was provided by a day for women, devoted to the appreciation of Tara through a series of short talks interspersed with reflection and medi-tation, finishing with a puja. Between all these activities, Kula-prabha managed to find time to catch up with old friends, sample Cambridge cafes and take in a classical concert. It was a great privilege to have the op-portunity to learn from her in a variety of different settings and, in the context of the Urban Retreat, to feel that she too was engaging in and learning from a new project. All those who partici-pated were unanimous in the opinion that future Urban Retreats would offer a great opportunity for Sangha build-ing as well as personal development.■

No giver, no receiver Loren Treisman on charity work in Uganda

Imagine an island which takes three hours to get to on a rickety boat stuffed to the brim with smelly little fish, chickens, goats and many a lively Afri-can. The island has about 2000 inhabi-tants and only two cement buildings - a primary school and a health centre. The primary school has one teacher and the health centre has no doctors or nurses, merely a ‘health care assistant’ whose role is essentially distributing drugs based on external symptoms. The rest of the residents live in mud or timber huts, collect their drinking wa-ter from the highly contaminated Lake Victoria and rely on subsistence culti-vation or fishing for survival. Nobody knows how to swim and five men un-der 30 years old died from drowning in the two months I was there. Jana is one of 82 Ssese islands, of which over 60 are inhabited, making up the district of Kalangala. There is not a single doctor in the entire district. Few of the residents can afford the expensive trip to the nearest hospital in Entebbe and it has been estimated that up to 37% of people on the island are HIV positive. When I first arrived on Jana, I de-spaired. These tiny little flies were flurrying everywhere -filling my eyes, mouth and hair - and it was hot and sticky. The mound of rubbish sur-rounding the only toilets serving Luaz (the largest of the five villages on the island) stank to the point many locals

refused to go near them. I never did manage to determine where they sug-gested I went instead. How wrong first impressions can be! It seems that I gained far more from my experience on Jana than they could possibly gain from me. Having re-mained untouched by some of the West’s less desirable consequences of development, Jana has a diverse range of flora and fauna and the people in-spired me beyond belief. Despite having nothing financially, people on Jana are always smiling and everything happens on Africa time so there’s plenty of time to get to know each other and make a human connec-tion. Initially, the pace could be some-what frustrating, but it soon made a whole lot more sense to me than the hustle of a European metropolis. Lo-cals regularly came by to check on me and bring me fish, mangoes or avo-cado, and giving came so naturally to them. The contagious smiles of the children will remain imprinted on my brain forever - I spent several hours playing with them each day. I spent the first month on Jana getting to know the local communities and trying to assess their needs. A need for improved health care and economic empowerment soon became apparent. Some of the stories were really devas-tating. To name one, Boniface, the church pastor has contracted HIV from his wife who had been raped while

fetching water. Their two young-est sons now have AIDS and they have also adopted another two AIDS orphans on top of their own six chil-dren. Needless to say, they were struggling to pay school fees and medical fees. Such stories are common on Jana.

I was well aware of the damage that handouts could cause to a commu-nity and that any aid pro-vided needed to be sustain-able so my time was spent doing educational talks about STDs, nutri-tion, family planning, child abuse and other topics. However, my main work involved trying to set up sustainable income generating projects using skills already available in the community, together with a committee comprised of community members. This was all made possible by the vol-unteers from TASAAGA (the Ugan-dan-run charity who sent me out here in the first place). They are some of the most giving and selfless people I have ever met, especially Bruhan and his father. With the extremely gener-ous donations from my friends and Jana’s wonderful community who did the vast majority of the hard work (though to their disgust I did insist on helping with the more physical side of the labour too), a pineapple garden and other agricultural projects were set up. Last month I received an email telling me that the first harvest had occurred and further projects would be devel-oped on the future. It’s only a little something, but every little something helps, right? As Gan-dhi once said, ‘be the change you want to see’. Sometimes, the destructive power of multinational corporations and world governments can leave me, and no doubt others, feeling helpless. However, at the grassroots level, there’s always a way to make a change. Just a single smile can make even the worst of living conditions seem irrelevant because ultimately, it is our human connections that make the world go round. In the words of the Buddha ‘Friendship is the whole of the spiritual life’.■

Total Immersion

Maitridevi reflects on piglets, angels and giving up hope

As I walk back from scratching Robert’s piglets up by the farm I see the angels. The three of them walk laughing and Masai-tall through the meadow, backlit by the low sun. It is Hannah, Andy and Steve, part of the ex-traordinary group that make up the support team on this retreat, coming back from giving Ida her birthday card. Ida is Robert’s mother, and Robert is the farmer who owns Fair Oak Farm in the Black-down Hills. Each year he has 40 or so Buddhists come to stay for a month of silent meditation in the fields at the bottom of the hill along-side the stream running into the River Otter. The Buddhafield angels heap love and kindness onto us in the form of gorgeous food, filtered water, campfires, hot showers, hot tubs and composting toilets. For two weeks I wake to soft dawn mists, meditate to the sound of the stream and wren song and then eat breakfast watching the sunrise stretch itself between the oaks and across the meadows. Sometimes I stumble between the orchids down to the river to sit among the banded demoiselle and blackcaps. I share my chair with a bronze-coloured fly, the toast-rack with fellow retreatants as we crouch around the campfire, and my tea mug with a few slugs (they like to hang out in it while I sleep). Through the days, Vajradevi teaches us Anapanasati meditation, Ka-malashila leads us in stupa visulisa-tion and 6-element practice, and we walk mindfully between the butter-cups. At night the pujas are wild and at times unhinged. Late in the eve-ning the field twinkles silently with tiny nightlights. My meditation is consistently appalling. Then suddenly we’re half way through and so many people leave while strangers arrive that it’s hard

to see that it’s the same retreat at all. Kamalashila leads us into a medita-tion, then gets up and walks away across the field and out of the retreat. Later in the day Paramananda stag-gers in to replace him, clutching his meditation shawl. He closes his eyes leans his head back and recites po-etry from memory, talks about soul, and leads us into our bodies. My heart bursts open and the rain pours down – endlessly. The deeper we sink into mud the stiller I become, until the campfire is too wet to light, and we huddle around a wood-burning stove in the spare dome. Five days of washing strung up over our heads moulders in the damp. It’s hard not to wish it would change, that the sun would shine, but it doesn’t make any differ-ence. Finally I realise that my last hope – that at least we’d leave with no more mud in the field than when we’d started – isn’t going to happen. Finally I give up hoping – it’s much better that way. On the train home I sit opposite an angry plumber stabbing at his mo-bile. After a while I sense he’s sof-tened, perhaps he’s noticed the tears I can’t stop from falling. It’s not that I’m upset, but that even here, look-ing through smeary tint of the win-dow I can’t stop the sense of beauty flooding in.■

Books Pearl Wallace-Fletcher and

Mij Wilkinson on resources

at the Centre

If you still prefer to hold a book in your hand, listen to a CD or tape, watch a video or DVD, rather than travel on the information super-highway, then the Centre has plenty to offer you!

Shop

I am organising the book shop and would welcome any input from the sangha. I feel it is important to supply a mixture of Dharma 'tastes', so I would love to hear any suggestions for books or other items for our shelves. Do you think that DVDs about Buddhism would sell? Let me know. If you’re running a course, why not let me know the recommended books? Then I can make sure they’re on the shelves in advance. Email mijwilks@tiscali.co.uk with your ideas.

Second hand bookstore

The second-hand bookstore is now lo-cated in the little room next to the tea and coffee area (where CDs and tapes used to be). Please donate your sec-ond-hand books - all proceeds go to the centre. Books can be left in the room for me to organise. Lending Library

Are you looking for Sangharakshita’s talks on CD, Buddhist Scriptures in translation or Zen poetry? The Centre’s lending library is the place for you to get all your dharma books, CDs and tapes. All of this is available to Order members, mitras and regulars in return for a small donation. If there are books or other materials you would like to be available in the library, simply note it in the sugges-tions book. And please donate any dharma books you have finished with to the lending library—we are particu-larly short of meditation books. There are also dozens of unreturned overdue books! Could you check your shelves, please? ■

Together apart We explain Aloka, a community without a house

There are a number of Buddhist community houses in Cambridge. But most of us don’t live with other Bud-dhists, and may only meet up for dharma study. Some of us felt a need for more con-nection. About 18 months ago, the idea of a ‘virtual commu-nity’ was floated, and Aloka is the result. Aloka, means no-place, because we have no fixed home (Aloka also means Utopia…). The cur-rent members of Aloka (Andreas Kähäri, Dougie Fra-ser, Helen Gilbert, Judith Rumgay, Ken Lingley, Pearl Wal-lace-Fletcher, Richard Tebbit, and Sarah Wright) are varied in age, back-ground and life situation. Many of us were strangers to each other before the group began. Despite our differences, we are brought together by our com-mitment to the Buddhist path and the friendship with one other that has de-veloped. We refer to this group as a ‘virtual community’ because we don’t live together, but nevertheless try to be a community for one another. In community houses in Cambridge, Wednesday evening is often ‘community night’, for reporting in and discussing household issues. We have made our community night every second Wednesday, and we focus mainly on reporting in. Each person takes a turn to talk about his or her experiences, thoughts, feelings, prac-tice, life events and so on, and to listen to the others reporting in. The process of reporting in is some-thing we’ve all had to work at. It’s not just a laundry list of our current obses-sions or the nitty-gritty of our daily lives. Ideally, it should help us to

clarify to ourselves our current state of mind and feelings, with particular ref-erence to our Buddhist practice. It provides the listeners with the op-portunity to be good listeners, listening attentively, with interest, kindness and, where necessary, compassion. This is good practice in itself, in that it chal-lenges us to let go of our own self-obsession for a while. Knowing about the big issues in each others’ lives helps us to be friends. While we should avoid the temptation of wanting to fix a friend's problems, we should be ready to offer support, if only a kind word or a phone call, if it is needed. Likewise, if someone is par-ticularly happy, it is good to know that the others share that happiness. Reporting in can take up the entire evening, but sometimes we keep it shorter and follow it with another ac-tivity. For most of the first year, we shared our life stories, a great way to get to know each other better. We have brought Dharma discussions, sto-ries, rituals and films to Aloka, and

we’ve had ‘fuddles’… a little known Pali word (cough cough) meaning a shared meal and a chat . Our latest project was to take on edit-ing this newsletter, and the results are before you! Here are some quotes from mem-bers of the commu-nity: “I feel a little out on a limb as a Mitra who has finished the formal studying but who hasn't asked for ordina-tion. Aloka for me means support in going for refuge

without Going For Refuge, if you know what I mean. I've enjoyed get-ting to know everyone. We're such a mixed group and I think that's a major strength. They all inspire me!” “I have found that being a member of Aloka has made me feel more con-nected to the wider Sangha. When I go to the centre, I am especially pleased to see other members of Aloka. This makes me feel very much at home at the centre so I feel more expansive towards whoever is there.” “The more I get to know people, the less I seem to be able to "pin them down" or to actually know anything for sure about their essential nature. In fact, there are times when I wonder if it is possible to know someone at all. Nothing and no-one can be taken for un-changing, and people in particular (even myself) are able to turn them-selves around, change, and grow. Re-flections like these are one part of what keeps me interested in engaging in a spiritual life. “The Aloka community is a core ►

Who were those 19th century emi-grants, Victorians seeking a better life and Irish escaping from famine, who sailed from Liverpool to the Land of the Long White Cloud? As a second generation New Zealander, I learnt about my country's history at school, but The Pioneers company brought that history to life for me at their Sep-tember performance at the Buddhist Centre. One of the first pieces evoked the journey of Captain Cook's ship, “Endeavour”, with ex-traordinary creaking of ship's rigging by the double bass bow across strings. Then “Seagull”, a poem by New Zealand's well known 20th century poet, J K Baxter, echoed round the thea-tre. Angeline Conaghan's pow-erful voice exercised its wide range and I sensed the mixture of fear and excitement those early settlers must have felt at the sight of their destination. Throughout the whole event there was a changing, grainy backdrop of sepia-coloured slides showing both the flimsy struc-tures the settlers established and the raw beauty of New Zealand landscape. For decades it was a primitive life. Wooden shacks, papered inside with newsprint, tried to keep the weather out, and sacking kept the settlers warm at night. A prominent feature of the early settlements were the pubs, where

the men swilled away their hard-earned cash. We heard about “My Donald”, a whaler; the gum diggers (gum being amber-coloured kauri resin, melted down for varnish), im-mortalised in “Black Swans”, and the gold panners in “Bright Fine Gold”. There was an effective light show to a piece about the bloody conflict

between European soldiers and Maori chiefs. But there were no songs about farmers; it took years to turn the land from native bush into pasture. Some of the settlers married Maori women. A traditional song, “E Tu Ka-hikatea,” portrayed such a courtship, with the haunting voice of Angeline. Some couples emigrated together, while some fellows such as “Old Jack Ryan” stayed single all their lives. I imagine my great grandfather having drunk many a beer with Jack Ryan,

“By the Dry Cardrona”. In this num-ber, Ben and David magically slid to the floor, 'drunkenly' propped against each other while both continued to sing and play! The Pioneers are an impressive trio. David Leahy (vocals and double bass), Ben Brewer (vocals and guitar) and

Angeline Conaghan, (vocals and guitar) each have back-grounds in music training and have worked with other performers in the field of improvised music. A washboard, pebbles and a tea chest were great percus-sion accompaniment at this performance. A third of the pieces were composed by The Pioneers, the rest either by a range of other composers or were traditional compositions.

This performance was the first of three The Pioneers have planned. The sec-ond piece will explore the post colo-nial period when a distinct New Zea-land identity was born. We heard a great snippet of this repertoire as an encore. The third will look at the rela-tionship between the British Isles and New Zealand from a contemporary perspective through the personal ex-perience of David, Angeline and Ben. I look forward to their return to Cam-bridge, hopefully next year – don't miss it! ■

Land of the Long White Cloud Anjali reviews a pioneering performance at the Centre.

◄ group of friends that helps me un-ravel and verbalise my thoughts. I am time and time again humbled by ob-serving the life of others.” “I have had my share of health chal-lenges with ongoing chronic fatigue and recurring episodes of depression. Throughout all of this I have felt ac-cepted just the way I am, supported by the group as they make a genuine attempt to understand what it is like to

be in the ‘hell realm’ of despair and despondency as they wish the very best for me. “We are all at different stages on our spiritual path. We try to make space for each other so we can build trust as we open our hearts and minds and share who we are, the difficulties we experience in the spiritual life and how we attempt to bring the dharma in our everyday lives.

“I am very happy to be a member of this ‘virtual’ community and hope our friendships continue to deepen and that we continue to flourish in the Dharma.” ■

If you are inspired by the idea of a

virtual community, why not start

your own?

This issue of Mandalanews was brought to you by the Aloka community