“Thubten Dawa Loday means ‘He who brings the light of the wisdom of the teaching of Buddha to dark places.’ To Athens, specifically. Thubten Dawa Loday is a Buddhist monk in our city. Dawa, as he introduces himself to make my life easier, lives as a monk in Plateia Theatrou. My disbelief arises spontaneously – he found that place to search for his peace? Between Athinas Street and Koumoundourou Square?

The forty-year old man does not seem to be troubled. “I belong to an ordained community, the first group in Europe of the Palyul Nyingma tradition of Tibetan Buddhism who live outside the monastery.”

“The first monasteries in Tibet,” he explains, “were built in places with challenging energy, so that they could help bring harmony to the place.” If this is the case, the Athenian reality sounds like the ideal challenge. The neighbourhood, in fact, which he chose testifies to a Buddhist monk with great aspirations. Not exactly, he tells me. “The truth is that here you are often confronted with the face of human suffering. The reality, however, is harsh everywhere. This is the human condition, we can’t change that. Great patience is needed.” Much later I will understand how much patience he means exactly.

With a steady gentle smile and calm voice, Dawa acknowledges that everyday life in the Greek capital continually presents grounds for losing one’s temper. So, doesn’t he get angry? “Sometimes I feel anger rising, but I let it come out naturally, through different practices.” In accordance with the principles of Buddhism, all things start from our mind, from the idea that someone is threatening us. And if someone really threatens us? “We believe that whatever happens to us originates from something we have caused in some way due to our actions. When you understand that you are responsible for the things that happen to you, then you have greater patience,” he insists.

One life is never enough

This patience, I say to him, taking advantage of the situation while insisting, telling him that that sounds very passive and even defeatist. Dawa now practices patience with me...He waits for me to finish a conflicting monologue which includes different predictable - as well as common - arguments such as, “But is this how we progress to a fairer world? You told me that the higher motives of the Buddhist monk is the salvation of the world,” before pulling myself together and reminding myself something very basic: he’s a monk, not an activist. And once more he tries to explain to me, “The goal of Buddhism is to purify yourself, not for yourself, but so that you may then help all people,” giving a summary of his particular view of life.

The suffering that exists around us, says Dawa, is due to the human ego. Suffering comes when we think of ourselves instead of others, while happiness comes when we think of others. “The goal of Buddhism is for us not to be so self-centred and free ourselves from violence, which is initially born within us and is then expressed,” he says. And I insist, since I now know that he doesn’t get annoyed: Let’s accept that it’s like that, I don’t think that one life is enough to help even in a minimal way, humankind. Did he say it was enough? “The vow of a Buddhist monk,” he continues, “is that from now until all suffering has disappeared from the world, I will return.” It’s not an oath for one lifetime, a monk's oath is an oath for many lifetimes. At this point he explains the difference between rebirth and reincarnation. “In Buddhism we believe that human life is precious, because we could have been born in this life as animals.” In other words, according to Buddhism, if I am not careful I could return even as a ferret? From the way he smiles, I understand that it’s not impossible... “And if you return as a ferret, you will need many more lives in order to purify yourself,” he adds. I think he’s enjoying this.

Dawa spends most of his time praying, studying and meditating at the Pathgate Dharma Centre in Menandrou Street. Inside the Buddhist Centre, whether you want to or not, you calm down – partly from the incense sticks burning at the shrine, partly from the melody of the mantras, and you begin to believe that perhaps, after all, indeed, it is not so difficult to live as a monk here.

The worldly name of the forty-year-old monk is Paul Kouroussis. He was born in Nicosia to a Greek Cypriot father and a British mother, but he grew up in Surrey. “Totally by chance, I left on the last plane to leave Nicosia airport, before the invasion.” He came to Athens in 1993 with a Greek Government Scholarship to study at the Higher School of Fine Arts. “I was a very angry young man, not violent, but I just felt that something was missing, and not right. As soon as I finished my studies in Newcastle I came here to escape. From what, I don’t know.”

For many years he lived in Exarchia and earned his living teaching English – an occupation he still does, with the only difference being that he goes to his lessons in his robes. It was in Athens, he says, that he discovered Buddhism! “In Newcastle I went to Taiji lessons with a teacher who has helped me a lot. It was a revelation. Right from the first lesson I felt all my blocked energy leaving my body. I was surprised because it was something very authentic, I don’t know how else to describe it.” A few years later, he would invite his teacher to Greece with the hope of regaining that feeling of freedom and delve into the philosophy of Taiji.

“The teaching changed my life. The path of Buddhism, I discovered later with the help of my teacher.” The relationship with his teacher, the Venerable Lama Dondrup Dorje, is, he says, the most important relationship in his life. In Tibetan Buddhism, the most important thing is to have a good teacher, who, indeed, you need to examine for ten years – “Buddhism does not demand blind submission. Besides, it’s not a religion, but a method of life,” he clarifies.

In any case, it changed his life. Namely? “Firstly, all my relationships improved, because I began to see all people as my family, to love all people.” He picks up on my mistrustful look and reciprocates with a smile – I have been disarmed, the Buddhist technique is infallible. I wonder how his friends reacted to his choice. “They didn’t react. Look, I didn’t go around announcing, “Hi, I’m a Buddhist.”” In the meantime, he became less and less involved in art – he has in total exhibited artwork twice in Athens. When I ask him if he misses it, I am totally unprepared for his answer: “I don’t feel any need to express myself,” he says cheerfully. In a world where we all now want to express ourselves – usually with questionable interest towards other people - Dawa’s statement sounds wonderful, with a true sense of solidarity.

He laughs at the way he pleasantly surprised me and hastens to add: “From the time I began to accept the Buddhist teaching, I understood that, whatever I express to people has an effect, either positive or negative. When I do something, I want to send out positive energy.”

His goal, he says, is to work as a positive catalyst in his environment. Would you say you are a positive catalyst in Plateia Theatrou? “Oh, I’m a very inexperienced practitioner, I have a long way in front of me,” he answers."