"Parâdhîna? parâyatta? dukha?," he says, "Being dependent on others is suffering."

This a little saying Sayadaw cites regarding some experiences of his. With the experiences the author has had, as well, I can really relate. One little experience which made me appreciate it even more occurred yesterday evening (26/8/96). The author is spending the rainy season this year at the Hse Main Gon Forest Center in order to take rest for the sake of my health. This Sâsana Yeiktha is forty miles from Yangon, and ten from Pegu (Bago). From the tenth mile of the Yangon-Pegu highway, it is still more than a mile through the woods to the Forest Center.

Yesterday evening around seven-thirty, together with U Nanda, I went out along the monastery driveway to take a walk. The moon was bright. It's not so bright when it's cloudy. Just a few clouds block out the moonlight. Walking along, we came to a stand of bamboo. In the shadow of the bamboo, it was even darker, almost pitch black. Apparently, the snakes were out hunting for food. If I had taken just one more stride, I would have been stepping on one snake. The author had good kamma. Though it was dark, my eye was caught for a moment by the snake lying in the path of my next footstep. Apparently, it was not my kamma to be bitten by that snake and die. I have encountered many cases with just such a outcome. The monk U Nanda said, "If it strikes, it's not a grass snake. You have to be afraid." It was only after he said that that I became rather frightened.

Where the author was born, vipers are abundant. I've seen and heard of many who have died of viper bites. In places in lower Myanmar, like the Shwe Taung Gon Sâsana Yeiktha, there are no vipers, so I was not very frightened even if I did come upon a snake. However, if the snake I was about to step on turned out to be a deadly one, when I stepped on it and got bitten, then what would I do? Neither the doctor nor the nurse Daw Hla Myint were at the center to give treatment in an emergency. Since they were not there, one would have to go to Indago or Yangon. Without a car, it would be very difficult to reach even Indago, not to mention Yangon. If there was a car, on the other hand, before long one would be at the hospital receiving treatment and one would surely live. With thoughts like, "If I lost my life because we had car problems when I was seriously ill…," running around in my head, I got a chance to realize how vital a car would be in this kind of situation. That was understanding based on personal experience of the necessity and benefit of having a vehicle.

Before we had cars, Sayadaw would ask monks, nuns and lay people whenever the opportunity arose whether it was necessary or not to have a car. He asked the author once, too. I heard him ask others, as well. If Sayadaw were to ask me now, I would give it a one-hundred percent recommendation, "It is absolutely necessary to have a car." Without that kind of an answer, Sayadaw would question his own decision. If my

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