A Rare Opportunity: On ‘Buddhism and Pali’

There's a new book that I'd like to introduce:

Cover for 'Buddhism and Pali' (from mudpiebooks.com)

A little over 10 years ago I had the good fortune to study under Professor Richard Gombrich at the OCBS Pali Summer School of 2008.  I subsequently used the knowledge gained to read and translate from the Pali some passages in the Theravada Buddhist canon as part of my Master’s thesis.   So, I was pleased to see the publication of Prof. Gombrich’s latest book, Buddhism and Pali.

In this post I offer some thoughts about the material - they're more ad hoc responses to some ideas put forth than a book review because I’m not qualified to assess the finer points of linguistics.

Introduction

The title of this post is quoted from page 8 of Gombrich’s ‘Buddhism and Pali’, where the author indicates why, despite being somewhat sceptical about its appeal to members of the public, he decided to go ahead and write this small volume: he sees its potential to raise awareness about the far-reaching significance of Pali.  I think he went ahead because he is a believer!  That is, he truly believes in the importance of the Buddha as a historical figure, in the value of his teachings, particularly for the depth of the philosophy, and in the necessity of knowing Pali as the means to properly access that knowledge and interpret it accurately.

I remember maybe 20 years ago hearing about the Jesus Seminar and its efforts to determine the historicity of Jesus and what could be reliably attributed to him.  It seems that in recent years this kind of approach has been attempted in respect of the Buddha Gotama, leading to similar results, where some academics deny that the canonical texts can be attributed to the Buddha himself and hence cast all kinds of doubt on the material.  As someone who is interested in Buddhist texts primarily as a practitioner, I’ve always felt that these kinds of scholarly views are rooted in a kind of hindrance, specifically sceptical doubt (Pali: vicikicchā - for the definition, I'm linking through to an online edition of the Pali Text Society's Pali-English dictionary).

So I naturally welcomed this new book, which constructs an argument, mainly linguistic, but backed up by cultural, historical and other observations, that shows how Pali could in fact be the language the Buddha actually used in his teachings across a vast swathe of what we now refer to as India.  As a scholar specialising in Indo-Aryan languages over his long career, Gombrich is sensitive to various issues that need to be addressed, especially concerning matters such as the integrity of texts and their preservation.

The book itself comprises four chapters and I’ll briefly introduce them and pick up on points I found interesting.

1. Pali in History

In the first chapter, Gombrich sets the scene, indicating the current use of Pali in the canon of the Theravada School of Buddhism, how it was essentially a language of recitation used by monks and nuns to maintain the teachings.  He then traces its linguistic history back to a few centuries BCE, showing in particular how it relates to Sanskrit.  The book is concise and succinct, making it easy to digest and follow the lines of thought.  Thus, we have a nice overview of the history of the Buddha, the geography of India and the modes of usage of Pali, especially among monastics.  Then the ancestry of Pali is outlined in three steps, altogether covering a single page.  So it’s a kind of primer, with some footnotes provided for further exploration.

Being condensed, many points are made only briefly. One of the first to catch my eye was that the word phāsa (p.11), which means ‘language’, was originally attached to ‘Pāli’ .  The same word has been brought into Thai (phāsa is rendered as ภาษา, hence ภาษาไทย). In fact, Thai has incorporated many such ‘loan words’ from Pali and Sanskrit, but also from many other languages (its influences are complex)!

The transmission of the Buddha’s teachings was initially an oral tradition, only later written down, typically on palm leaves.  We may take writing for granted now, but (I didn't see this mentioned by Gombrich) one doesn’t have to go back very far to find practitioners who did not make use of written texts.  For example, the founder of Wat Phra Dhammakaya on the outskirts of Bangkok was an illiterate nun, Khun Yay Upasika Chandra Khonnokyoong.

It's remarkable that the texts have been handed down over the centuries with hardly any corruption.  Gombrich uses his philological expertise to cleverly argue how Pali has been preserved and evolved for a variety of pragmatic and conventional reasons, usually under the influence of Sanskrit, but used in a distinct way; its distinction arising because it is an artifice - a vehicle for transmission that needs careful memorisation, but also reflects adaptation to local environments.  He makes the argument easier to follow by comparison with the use of the English language, which he furnishes with examples.

In passing, he also makes the point that the teachings tell us that all this is subject to impermanence and will eventually perish.  From a professional perspective, as another aside, I wonder about the digital context, where we can easily replicate data in the Cloud and ensure integrity using checksums.   Well, checksums are themselves subject to bit rot (corruption) and according to Buddhist cosmology our world and many realms above eventually get destroyed, so that would include all the data centres in the Cloud and in clouds!

I find conservative Gombrich’s statement that “as far as we know” Theravada Buddhism was confined in its first millennium to India and Sri Lanka (p. 22): I am persuaded by the thesis proposed by Lewis Lancaster in the Maritime Buddhism Project that traders carried religious practices across South and South-East Asia much earlier (e.g., across the Bay of Bengal, the Andaman Sea, through the Malacca Strait, and up to the South China Sea).  Collaborative research is ongoing to form an electronic atlas.  Whilst the picture is patchy, there is significant archaeological evidence - for example, in Thailand, as reported by Suchandra and Lipi Ghosh,  excavations have unearthed objects with Buddhist inscriptions (in Pali or Hybrid Pali and Sanskrit) dated to the Dvāravatī period that have strong associations with the sea: such as amulets, carried by seafaring merchants to ensure a safe voyage and even images of Buddha Dipankara calming the waves.  I also asked my uncle, Sean Trafford, who spent his working life at sea, much of it in and around SE Asia, and he found the thesis credible.

Perhaps the first intimation I received of such early connections for Thailand was a visit to Phra Pathom Chedi in 1988, which I subsequently wrote about as one of my first articles on the Web.   A traditional overview of how Buddhism came to Thailand was compiled by Ven. Dr. Saddhatissa  There is, of course, a large gap between the time of Emperor Ashoka and the mid first millennium C.E., but it’s narrowing - see e.g. Stephen A. Murphy and Miriam T. Stark’s introduction to period transitions. (Coincidentally, one of my cousins has just started her first year as an undergraduate in the Faculty of Archaeology at Silapakorn University, so I may get to hear about further developments!)

2. The Linguistic Character of Pali

The second chapter - on ‘The Linguistic Character of Pali’ - is the most technical.  It contains material that is second nature to the author, so it’s both easy for him to spell out and difficult for him to gauge how accessible it might be for the reader.  For anyone who has made an initial attempt to learn the language it’s a useful refresher of the main concepts, but others may well observe the guidance, thoughtfully inserted, to just read some of the more general remarks.

These include the use of verse, which I tend not to give much attention to, even though I frequently come across them in sutta study; although the texts are largely prose, verses do feature.  My appreciation and understanding of verse is limited, but some while ago I became keen to learn the meaning of a daily chant called 'A Buddha Prayer Song', so eventually I produced a translation, aided by Thai friends.  It was an example of prosody, so I was pleased to learn more about the metrical structure of such verse. 

3. Pali Prose Style

In the third chapter - on ‘Pali Prose Style’ - Gombrich discusses how its style was especially shaped by the oral tradition.  He also explores the question of how the oral transmission has been so efficient, with some corroboration from neuroscience and illustrations from other disciplines such as music.  There are practical strategies indicated for memorisation such as the division of labour and Gombrich indicates how the Buddhist Councils have helped ensure their preservation.

He goes on to use a linguistic argument based on an incremental style of prose, where words are successively augmented - in length and meaning.  When considered from the view of the practice, we find that the experience is often of gradual development, gradual evolution and progression, so to record this it is fitting to choose words that reflect this in structure and meaning.  This insight helps in the validation of texts, i.e. there is scope for validation through practice. This is particularly the case when undertaking a practice with a sequence of steps, as exemplified by the Ratha-vinita Sutta  (Relay Chariots, translation by Thanissaro Bhikkhu).

Gombrich takes as an example (pp. 57-61) the homage (vandanā) in the iti pi so formula, which is a standard recitation in Pali chanting.  I think it’s an ambitious choice because it’s very condensed with meaning at mundane and supramundane levels, but I think through meticulous analysis he arrives at a sensible interpretation, showing the value of a proper understanding of Pali - it makes rational sense.

However, the scholarly method follows a particular intellectual discipline, so the result is often carefully couched and sometimes speculative; perhaps its deeper meaning cannot be convincingly made by linguistics alone.  In particular, whilst Gombrich also makes the important point that the text carries with it an injunction, of ‘ought’, scholarship doesn’t necessarily bring about this ‘ought’ response, i.e. "Right, let’s undertake the practice!"  To me it seldom is that compelling.  Even from the perspective of practice, it still is a matter of interpretation dependent on view (diṭṭhi) and according to the path (magga) taken.  However, to some extent the words can help to validate practice, so it works both ways.  

Indeed, the linguistic reading can lead on to practice and I’ll try to illustrate this by focusing on the ‘ought’, drawing on the Dhammakaya tradition to which I belong.  I’ll start by making the assertion that the presentation style of a practitioner can be more persuasive about the ‘ought’.  I think especially of the late Chao Khun Phramongkolthepmuni, the re-discoverer of this practice.  When he was delivering sermons as Abbot of Wat Paknam Bhasicharoen in Thailand he spoke with a directness and assuredness that arose from meditation experience.  His audience was roused in large numbers over the years and it came about as the audience engaged a different mode of listening and interpreting, through the citta, a Pali word that I would render along the lines of “heart-mind”, to distinguish it from the brain alone. 

The Chao Khun explained every word in the iti pi so, and gave the formula a sense of direction reflecting investigation within what the Buddha referred to as “this fathom-long body” (Rohitassa Sutta).  I summarise the respective interpretations in a table as follows:

Term	Gombrich	Dhammakaya tradition	Comment (Dhammakaya)
svākkhato	well-taught	well-taught
Bhagavatā	Blessed One	Blessed One	Because the Buddha is breaker of the wheel of Samsara
Dhammo	Teaching	Dhamma	Teaching (mundane) and Truth as supramundane reality
sanditthiko	practical	to be seen	Directly observable
akāliko	immediate	timeless and ever-present	Whether there are Buddhas in the world or not, the Path to Enlightenment lies open, all the same
ehipassiko	Come and see	Come and see
opanāyiko	useful	leading inwards	the operative mode is given by phrases such as kāye kāyānupassī, ‘contemplating body in body’ in accordance with the Middle Way.
paccattam	individually, by oneself	individually, by oneself
veditabbo	o be understood	to be realized	directly, not just intellectually
viññuhi	by the intelligent	by the wise

This practice-based approach was even reflected in the design of published materials.  For example, several of the terms, including opanāyiko, were employed on the front cover of a magazine of the Bhikkhus of Wat Paknam, surrounding the image of the Buddha in meditation.

Another area where the orientation of practice can prompt or fashion a different response concerns repetition (pp. 62-68). Certainly some formulaic repetition acts as little more than packaging, but the repetition in the ‘contents’ does need care.  As mentioned, repetition aids and reinforces memory, but it also establishes a rhythm, which can be cyclical in nature, like a spiral staircase, where the completion of each full 360 degree rotation brings a different aspect viewed from a series of successively higher windows (perhaps these are the “small changes” that Ven. Dr Walpola Rahula alluded to?).  Lists are usually intentionally ordered.  Hence the khandhas (pp. 64-5) are to be contemplated, each in turn (it’s not an intellectual exercise, it’s a sermon on practice, not about the practice).

But some cases of repetition do appear to be far less necessary: repetition that arises through reporting - the convention of repeating verbatim each time a new person is to hear what has been said.  Such preservation can make for excessive, even quite absurd, repetition as illustrated (p. 66) and I confess that in study groups we often skip reading out such repeated reports.

Gombrich makes the key point that repetition occurs at every level, which suggests that the Buddha used repetition in his speeches, thereby strengthening the case that the Pali does indeed record the Buddha’s own words.

4. Pali in Buddhist Ideology

Having laid the foundations, the final chapter presents the main thesis: that the Buddha gave his teachings in Pali as part of his ideology; the use of Pali emerged in opposition to Sanskrit as integral to the Buddha’s teachings being in contradistinction to the Vedas.  I hadn’t thought that the Buddha might so deliberately using language (or avoid the use of a particularly structured language) to take an ideological stance, but I can imagine it fits like this. 

Then Gombrich builds his case, showing how the Buddha gave his teachings to anyone who was prepared to receive them, instructing his disciples to make language accessible and adaptable to locality.  A particularly difficult area is establishing what language was used between the time of the Buddha and when it was first formally written down in Sri Lanka.  So Gombrich proceeds to develop a linguistic argument, inviting the reader to imagine the conditions in which the Buddha roamed far and wide and how Pali appears to have accommodated a wide range of dialects to match whilst being based on a predominant dialect, a ‘lingua franca’, becoming the ‘argot’ of the Buddha and his followers (rather than quoting Google, I suggest the entry in an online etymology dictionary).

Such language was used in a pragmatic fashion to convey meaning, so it can be argued that implies purging language of foreign terms.  I’m cautious about that; some terms need to be introduced with all nuances of the original meaning properly established or else much can be lost.  I think, for example, of the term “mindfulness”, which is typically used for sati, but in the process the sense of clear comprehension with an ethical basis has often been removed (think about the sequence of the Eightfold Noble Path).

Conclusion

In the epilogue, Gombrich leaves us with an open problem: how best to teach a basic course in Pali that will enable students to tackle the translation of texts with the aid of a dictionary and other tools.   From past experience, Gombrich has found that the course needs to be intensive over a short period, usually 2-3 weeks, but that has presented various challenges in terms of organisation and commitment irrespective of whether that is offered in person at a physical location or online. 

Efforts are currently being made to provide a more sustainable option through online courses with recorded sessions, which should improve retention, though it will mean reduced personal interaction.  Having been involved in developing and support e-learning platforms, and even a little research, I expect A.I. to offer considerable potential, especially assistance in understanding particular concepts being taught in drill practice.  Financial support would make things easier, remove some barriers, but overall I think that it still largely depends on the student's determination as to whether there will be a successful outcome.

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Overall, this little volume has been stimulating and enjoyable and I'm pleased to recommend it.  It has reminded me how fortunate I was to learn the rudiments of Pali from an expert so that I could be in a position to explore the Buddha's teachings with more assurance; today, I mainly use that knowledge outside the academic context, in a local Buddhist group (where we follow chanting and meditation with sutta study, using a plethora of books and some electronic tools).

Postscript [12 January 2019]

After posting the article, I recalled having written about how the Buddha transmitted Dhamma based on knowing the receptivity of his audience and their kamma.  To explain how this worked, I tried to use analogies with concepts in physics (mainly holography, first introducing the basic idea and then elaborating with a further analogy of a radio set.

Translating Thai: Some Experiences of Digitisation

Is it possible to produce a reasonably accurate translation from Thai into English with only a basic knowledge of the language and the aid of electronic tools? I’m not going to make great claims as my experiences are from home-grown experimentation over a few months. However, having recently completed a few translations, I think there are promising signs. At least I’m quite satisfied with a translation of my mother's article concerning Buddhism in Hampshire in the '60s, which runs to about 2,000 words. So there may be some pointers that others find helpful.

Setting this post in the context of biographical research, I’ll first describe some broad considerations and then discuss digitisation (scanning and optical character recognition). One tip I’d offer is that there needs to be attention to detail – rough and ready methods won’t yield very much that's of value. Certainly, there’s been more involved than I anticipated!

I’ll start with a list of very basic questions - as much for my own benefit as anyone else’s :-)

• What are you trying to learn? Why is it significant? Even when carrying out research entirely in one’s native language, time often forces choices with regard to the materials that you examine closely. If they are in a foreign language, then that imposes further constraints.
• Is there anyone who can help? It may be that you can effectively form a team.
• Of the materials available, which ones are going to shed most light in key areas?
• Among these materials, which ones are amenable to analysis? Are they easy to access physically? Are they printed or hand-written?

All these points apply to any language, but then each language has further characteristics that can make the situation more or less difficult.

With regard to Thai, its alphabet (44 consonants and 28 vowel forms) is much more elaborate, particularly with the use of diacritics. Even Thais will tell you that looking up words in a dictionary can be quite a chore. Yet, if the letters are clearly formed then actually reading it is not so hard because it’s generally phonetic. As someone with a limited vocabulary, needing to look up many words, I soon decided that it’d be much more convenient to have an accurate transcription in electronic form so that I can use software-based dictionaries.

A note on reading handwriting

So what about Thai handwriting?! In the Thai education system, primary school children learn to write by copying individual Thai printed letters – I’ve seen one of my cousins do this repeatedly when she was 5 years old. When they leave primary school they then learn cursive script and that stage can mark a huge departure. It’s a similar approach as I learnt for English, but I don’t know whether children develop their own style or are guided to adopt one of a number of standard styles. I’ve shown sets of photos to relatives and friends with Thai writing on the back – quite often there is a struggle to read what’s written, so it appears to be no easier than English. It’s a daunting prospect, but assuming that the writing is consistent, then it becomes a question of recognising patterns and perhaps understanding its topology will help. So for a given author, it may suffice for someone to translate a sample for me and I can try to figure out the rest.

Anyway, at the moment I can’t read much beyond the printed word, which means I have to ask others to copy type what I can’t read. For general documents concerning work that’s quite feasible, at least for someone in Europe the costs of getting this done in Thailand are affordable. However, a biography containing personal items (which are often of greater interest) requires more care – until their contents are known they should be read only by people you can trust.

So in the remainder of what I share here I’ll confine my attention to printed documents as I indicate a methodology I’m adopting for their translation.

Copy type or scan for OCR?

Technology-assisted translations often start with flatbed scanners that can convert the physical page into an image that then gets ‘read’ using optical character recognition software (OCR). In theory, since the printed word generates letters uniformly, software can accurately interpret them. In practice, results are imperfect for most kinds of sources and can take longer than expected. It may be better simply to copy type.

So when should OCR be used? Whatever language you are trying to read, the utility depends upon the nature and condition of the original document – if it is a fragile pocket volume with hundreds of faded pages with tiny letters in an obscure font, then even if you manage to safely scan the page, you may find OCR yields very poor results.

However, this kind of discussion assumes that there actually is some decent software for any language, when in fact for languages that don’t use Roman script, the situation seems to be very varied...

Available OCR options for Thai (very few!)

For Thai the available options have been very few. On asking a few Thai friends, I drew only blanks and when I carried out a quick investigation it seemed that until only a few years ago, the options were not far out of the university laboratory and didn’t look very amenable. An example is NEC-0006 อ่านไทย เวอร์ชัน 2.5 (OCR), which is inexpensive, but it doesn’t get very good experience reports from a Thai OCR discussion thread..

The larger well-established commercial products such as Omnipage and Abbyy seemed for a long time to have ignored Thai until a couple of years ago when additional language support for Abbyy FineReader Pro was introduced for Thai in version 9. Trusting the claims of accuracy I took the plunge and bought a copy - quite an investment, even with an educational discount.

I’m glad I did as the results are generally good, although its accuracy is inferior to that for languages based on Roman script. For someone like me who types Thai very slowly it is a useful start, but unless the lettering in the documents is very clear so that the accuracy is close to 100%, its utility will fall away for anyone who can type reasonably quickly and accurately.

(In case you are wondering, there have been efforts to recognise handwriting, but it’s a much harder task – I was interested to note, though, that a fairly recent paper, Maximization of Mutual Information for Offline Thai Handwriting Recognition, in IEEE Transactions on Pattern Analysis and Machine Intelligence, makes use of a toolit that is primarily used for speech recognition research. It prompts the question of the relationship of Thai speech to writing. From my very rudimentary knowledge of Thai linguistics I gather that it has roots in Sanskrit, where the letters of the alphabet are placed according to where in the throat/mouth/lips they are formed. Thai reflects this ordering quite substantially, though not completely.)

Undertaking the OCR.

I think getting the best results is an art and worth persevering to make improvements. For all but a few cases with one or two small documents, the whole scanning workflow ought to be considered as a successful process requires a good rhythm. Washington State Library has a useful checklist and there are some good tips on the OCR process provided by About.com. These cover physical aspects including the selection of the scanner itself, keeping it clean, the placement of the source document, the scan settings (resolution, colour contrast, expected language(s)), and how the scanned image is divided up for the actual process of scanning.

One particular aspect that many software packages provide is training. For text recognition this is basically the process of chopping up the scanned image into a sequence of glyphs (character elements) and assigning glyphs to character names – see e.g. Wikipedia for a detailed entry. As you feed in multiple samples and specify the assignments, it learns how particular characters should be interpreted. There’s a training tutorial for a software library called Gamera, which I found very helpful in explaining the concepts.

I’ve not yet used training, probably because I’ve been a bit lazy to make the effort to learn how to make it learn!

Finereader’s Thai OCR Performance and Correcting the OCR.

Here’s a sample of FineReader's output.

As you can see, it’s a long way from perfection! Here it obviously doesn’t handle the English. I actually set it to interpret everything as Thai – although I could have included English as an additional language, it seems to have a net effect of adversely affecting the Thai rendering, so since English is easy for me to recognise and type, I prefer to let it get that part wrong.

A Thai person might well be dissatisfied with the results, but overall I was quite happy given my very slow Thai typing speed. There were one or two characters that FineReader seemed to really struggle with, but correction was not difficult as the suggested match was often a character used here and not elsewhere – so I could do a ‘search and replace.’ More challenging was the handling of the small diacritical marks – in Thai they are all glyphs since they each contribute towards meaning, either as vowel sounds or tone marks. Instances where there are two such marks on a single letter are common and FineReader often struggled to pick out -่ ไม้เอก (mai ek) – it looks like a hyphen, but its placement varies a lot. If you look at the screenshot carefully, you can see that FineReader simply omits quite a few of these, perhaps because the original source document was not clear enough.

Even if you train an OCR package, there will still be imperfections, so the output needs to be corrected. This process is tedious, but helpful – not least in learning to read! It helps you to familiarise yourself with the alphabet and especially pay attention to the way letters are formed.

If you have a large screen, particularly with widescreen dimensions, then it’s probably easiest to use the scanned image, set the zoom as needed, and place it next to the OCR’ed version that you’re editing.

Conclusion

Although a quick and perfect system is far away, for printed texts a few OCR options are emerging that I find helpful in digitising printed Thai texts. Alternative suggestions are very welcome – I’m keen to improve what I’m doing, even though it’s already been quite an effort and I haven’t yet started talking about the translation itself...!

Notes from the OCBS Pali Summer School '08

Evaŋ me sutaŋ:

I've been mentioning 'Pali' with quite some eagerness to various friends and neighbours, particularly on buses, and even to a couple of diners at a restaurant. Usually, the initial response has been a blank face or slight confusion - some hear 'Bali' - but when I've gone on to explain that this is a language related to Sanskrit and approximately that spoken by the Buddha, then interest has been aroused. It's not that surprising as two were language teachers, though perhaps the more general interest shown is just due to it being Oxford!

My enthusiasm has been due to the Pali Summer School, an annual course run by the Oxford Centre for Buddhist Studies to enable beginners to obtain a reasonable grasp of the Pali language in less than 2 weeks! This year's course, which ended yesterday, was taught mainly by Professor Richard Gombrich with the able assistance of Geoff Bamford and Tomoyuki Kono. It took place at one of the campuses of Brookes University, which provided affordable arrangements, especially for accommodation.

There were 11 of us as students, with varying backgrounds (7 different nationalities, originating from Belgium, Israel, Norway, Taiwan, Thailand, UK and US), so for the majority English was not their first language (so I'm very impressed by the way they handled this course!) I think we all got a great deal out of it. It's fun to work as a small group and we were encouraged to help each other, which was a useful technique to establish how sure you were about your understanding. The 2 hour lunch breaks allowed us to wander into town and have leisurely lunches; a good gap was needed because the material to absorb is quite considerable and condensed. Furthermore, we had homework every evening!

One of the first things I learnt about Pali even before the course is that it doesn't have it's own script, so it is transliterated - into e.g. Devanagiri, but fortunately this course used the Roman alphabet. Having said that, it doesn't use the 'A' to 'Z' ordering familiar in modern European languages, but rather the sounds are produced in sequence according to the how they are formed in the mouth, starting at the back of the throat with 'k','kh' (aspirated), and working forward through to the lips. (And now I can see how it has influenced the Thai alphabet, with the ordering there bearing some resemblance, though it's certainly not the same.) Memorising the order was actually our first exercise, intended to be learnt before we started so that we had facility in using Pali dictionaries. The dictionary recommended for the course is by Rhys Davids and Stede and published by the Pali Text Society, available from the PTS Web site or Wisdom Books if a courier delivery is not suitable for you). There is also an online edition of the PTS dictionary provided Digital Dictionaries of South Asia, an excellent implementation developed by the University of Chicago, but I generally refrained from using it!

I was very surprised at the start of the course by the requirement of learning how to pronounce the language correctly. Given that Pali is the language of texts to be analysed and scrutinised by scholars, I naturally thought of it as study most befitting for libraries, where silence is the order of the day! However, Prof. Gombrich was very firm in his conviction that correct pronunciation leads to correct spelling, which is essential for establishing the correct meaning. To help encourage this, we had daily chanting and he led us very vigorously, making each and every syllable distinctly long or short! And after a while it made sense to me. Pali has 41 letters, a number of which have diacritical marks, which at first glance sounds a bit of a chore, but once you know the sounds and the phonology rules, it does enable you to pronounce words correctly, work out why some words are spelt the way they are, and also to hear them correctly (useful when making notes!).

I found Prof. Gombrich not only immensely knowledgeable, but also very well organised, presenting a set of materials consisting of what we really needed to know in an order to have a good go at translating a variety of passages from the suttas. There's as much skill in knowing what to leave out or only touch on as in knowing what to include! He is very clear in delivery and provides very helpful (and patient) explanations. When translating, he seemed to pick out straightforward meanings that were well informed by his knowledge of Indian society and culture at the time. And he's very humorous too. :-) I think just the mere fact that we were there attempting to learn Pali was a source of happiness for him as he strongly believes that there is a severe paucity in this area.

At the conclusion of the course and several times we were encouraged to keep it going - appamadena sampadetha (strive on with diligence)! (previously expressed more colloquially as, "Use it or lose it!")

Although at first glance, learning Pali is a daunting prospect - e.g. it has many inflexions, owing especially to having 8 cases - it's not so complex, because it's essentially a spoken language for the general public. It's not as elaborate as Sanskrit. Having said that, I felt it helped to have studied foreign languages at school, particularly Latin.

Before the course I knew a few Pali words from traditional chants, but not much more than that. I belong to a Dhamma study group which goes through texts, making use of various translations. However, we often delve into the Pali as translations can vary markedly in meaning, but lacking any serious study of the language, it has been very laborious and sometimes inconclusive. After the course I feel I can at the very least find words in a dictionary, but more than that I feel I have been given tools that will enable me to gradually work through texts sentence by sentence, working out the structures - the logical subject, the grammatical subject, the main verb and so on. It could be useful for the M.St., but I shall need plenty of practice before publishing anything with confidence...!