Drunk with a Monk

I haven´t caught up with Mhue, my Vietnamese Monk neighbour for a while. Yesterday evening, i get a telephone call from him requesting to come over.

I pile all my articles up, and he arrives at my door in ten minutes with a half kilo carton of Quoc Anh Vietnamese coffee sent specially from his sister. Its very dark, very strong with a chocolatey flavour.

Mhue has been away on a meditation retreat for the last 10 days which explains his absence from the Dalai Lama teachings.

He refuses both the coffee and the green tea, so it´s out with the last bottle of lemon chelo: It´s only after the second glass that i remember the Bailey´s, with a hint of chocolate mint, i bought in Delhi duty-free. He is keen to taste it. The combination is lethal and we are soon in fits of laughter. Too nuts! I´m pleased it´s him who has to get up at 4.30 for meditation the next morning.

Despite a brief flirtation with drinking during my undergraduate days, alcohol has never been a narcotic of choice. It´s been ages since i last drank more than a couple of drinks. I feel guilty for corrupting my loving friend/brother.

We agree to meet up today after his English classes to locate a dongle and Internet package for his snazzy VAIO lap-top.

Mhue never eats out so i am very happy to treat him to soup and hummus at the exclusive Chonnor Lodge.

I ask him about his monastic background. He describes himself as very angry as a child and found tranquility in religion. He begged his mother (his father died during the US – Vietnam war) for several years before she consented to his ordination at thirteen. His younger sister was ordained at just 6 years old.


Mhue - a drunk monk


Having now completed my resubmission for my thesis proposal, my Masters studies are now in full flow as i hit the Literature Review; an area i understand well. Long may this continue!