colour is no good. Must change. All paint colours.’
The geomancer stepped towards the middle of the courtyard and cast his eyes around again, then tapped his lo pan. ‘Also, garden in the west. I think that was not there before, is it?’
‘No, there used to be a shed for the carts there, but it fell down. We cleared it and turned it into a vegetable garden about two years ago,’ said Brother Wasuran, a rotund man of about forty, with a raspy voice and a neanderthal brow.
‘Plants are alive. Have very special sort of energy. Must be placed carefully. Can be very good. But now are in southwest. This is direction of soil ch’i. Not so good. Need make some changes there also.’
Wong was busy scratching notes into his pad when it occurred to him that he had not asked whether there was a specific issue which had to be resolved. Master Tran had explained in his letter that he was worried about ‘a general air of malingering and delinquency’, neither of which were words he understood, even after looking them up. ‘Is there some big problem I must fix?’ he asked. ‘What did Master Tran want me to do?’
‘There are lots of problems. He did not tell me exactly what to tell you. I think generally there is some unhappiness among the brothers. Twice we have found liquor bottles hidden in dark places. Once we found a magazine showing shocking indecent pictures and writings about, you know, man-woman relations and such things. We also found a case of 2000 cigarettes, and a television machine, you know, what do you call it? A video machine? We could not work out how it had come into the vihara, because the brothers do not go in and out very much, and we keep a careful watch on the door at all times.’
‘I see. Have many problems.’
‘There are other problems. We have many rats in the temple now. Hard to sleep. They live in the roof, run, run at night, very noisy,’ he rasped.
Wong made careful notes. He spoke to Wasuran as he scribbled. ‘Harmony is very important. Hsun Tzu said: “The stars go round; the sun and moon shine in turn; the four seasons come one after another; the yin and the yang go through their changes; wind and rain are widely distributed; all thing acquire harmony and have their lives.”’
‘It is so.’
‘Your problems: any more?’
‘Yes. I think Master Tran was worried because three men asked to leave. They want to stop being brothers, get married, they say. We think one of them must have brought the video machine and the bad magazine into the place, but no one admits it.’
‘What name?’
‘The men?’
‘No. The magazine.’
‘It was called Australian Women’s Weekly. Many things about love and conjugal things. Shocking.’
CF Wong and Joyce McQuinnie spent the afternoon working at a dining table in a nearby restaurant. After Porntip had introduced them as consultants working for the vihara, the owner was happy to attract good karma by letting them use the place in the lull between the midday and evening rush periods.
The assignment was turning out to be an enjoyable challenge. Joyce had bought some CDs, which put her in a good mood, and then efficiently mapped out the area surrounding the temple. She had discovered some major elements that needed to be taken into consideration: a village well, due south of the temple, a coffin shop to the northeast, and an electricity pylon, almost facing the front gate, albeit a long way off.
Wong carefully described the inside of the temple grounds to his assistant. He drew diagrams to explain each block’s relation to the other, and tried to describe the condition of the buildings. ‘It not too beautiful, but it is very span and spic,’ he said.
‘Spic and span,’ said Joyce.
‘Spic and span, span and spic, what difference?’ Wong complained.
‘Good question. Never mind. What else?’
Joyce was particularly intrigued by the stories of the video recorder, cigarettes and a magazine being smuggled into the building. ‘It has no windows that you can like reach from the ground, so the guys must have hidden them under their robes. The magazine I can understand, but a video—that must be tough to tuck into your underpants.’
‘Monks are not wearing underpants, I believe.’
‘I really wouldn’t know, and don’t expect to find out on this trip.’
Wong drew large and indecipherable maps showing the objects he considered key, immovable elements: the well, the bo tree, the outer walls and main buildings