After the Bowl: My First Experience of Baru Gongyang

Before experiencing baru gongyang, I expected the atmosphere to be very formal and serious. I had already learned that participants were expected to finish all the food they took, so one question stayed in my mind: what would happen if I accidentally took too much?

I thought I understood the basic ideas of baru gongyang after researching them. However, experiencing the practice myself showed me that understanding a rule and actually following it can be very different.

What Happened

Before the baru gongyang experience, we toured Jingwansa Temple and learned more about the temple and Buddhist culture. Then, we entered the room for baru gongyang and listened to the monk’s instructions.

Each person received four baru, or bowls, stacked together. We arranged the bowls in the correct positions and served ourselves rice, soup, side dishes, and water. Unlike an ordinary meal, however, we had to think carefully about how much food to take because we were expected to finish everything in our bowls.

Once everyone was ready, we began eating quietly while following the monk’s instructions. At the end of the meal, we cleaned our bowls using water and a piece of pickled radish. Finally, we used sungnyung, a rice-based drink, to rinse the bowls again.

The version we experienced was also simpler than the traditional baru gongyang I had read about. The monk guided us through a simplified version for first-time participants and people who were not Buddhist. This made me realize that the experience offered to visitors may not be exactly the same as the practice followed in everyday monastic life.

Silence Changed the Way I Ate

One of the first things I noticed was the silence.

Normally, I think eating without talking would feel awkward. Surprisingly, it did not. The room felt quiet and calm because everyone was following the same steps together.

I also noticed that I was eating differently. Instead of mixing different foods together or eating quickly, I ate each dish one at a time and more slowly. The dishes I ate were lightly seasoned, so I could notice the individual taste of each food more clearly.

Before the experience, I had thought of silence mainly as a rule of baru gongyang. During the meal, however, I began to wonder whether silence could actually change the way we pay attention to food.

Choosing the Right Amount Was Harder Than I Expected

The most difficult part for me was deciding how much food to take.

Before the experience, the rule sounded simple: take only as much as you can finish. But the baru were different from the bowls I normally use, so I misjudged the amount and took slightly too much food.

Because I was expected to leave nothing behind, I finished everything. By the end of the meal, I felt much fuller than I had expected.

This experience changed the way I thought about the no-leftovers principle. Finishing all the food on a plate does not always mean that a person chose the right amount in the first place. In my case, the more important decision happened before I started eating.

It made me realize that “take only what you need” requires more attention than I had assumed.

It also raised another question for me. Avoiding food waste is important, but what should happen if someone realizes that they have already taken more food than they need? Perhaps the goal should not simply be to force ourselves to finish everything, but to become better at understanding how much food we actually need before serving ourselves.

The Most Surprising Part

The most memorable part of the experience happened at the end of the meal.

We first cleaned our bowls with water and used a piece of pickled radish to remove food that remained on the sides. Then we received sungnyung and used it for the final cleaning of the bowls. Afterward, we drank it.

Before trying this, I was worried that drinking liquid that had been used to rinse my bowls would feel dirty or unpleasant. However, when I actually did it, it did not feel as strange as I had expected.

By that point, cleaning the bowls felt like a natural part of completing the meal. The experience made the idea of “leaving nothing behind” much more concrete. It was not only about finishing the food. Even the final pieces remaining in the bowls became something we were asked to notice.

What Changed My Thinking

Many of the ideas behind baru gongyang were not completely new to me. I already knew that wasting food was not good and that people should try to take only what they can eat.

What changed was my understanding of how difficult these simple ideas can be to practice.

I also expected baru gongyang to feel strict and almost intimidating. Instead, the monks were kind, and the atmosphere felt much calmer and friendlier than I had imagined.

The experience showed me that rules can also shape the atmosphere of a meal. Everyone was eating the same food, staying quiet, and following the same steps. Because the whole group followed the same structure, I found myself naturally changing the way I ate.

What Could This Mean Beyond the Temple?

After the experience, I began thinking more about the connection between baru gongyang and questions about food waste, sustainability, and eating behavior.

According to the United Nations Environment Programme, about 1.05 billion tonnes of food were wasted worldwide in 2022 at the household, food-service, and retail levels. About 60 percent of this waste came from households (UNEP, 2024). This shows that food waste is not only a problem that happens in restaurants or stores. It is also connected to decisions people make in everyday life.

Of course, baru gongyang cannot simply be considered a solution to global food waste or hunger. These problems have many causes that go far beyond individual eating habits. However, the practice raises a smaller question that may be useful: would people waste less food if they had to think more carefully about how much they took before beginning a meal?

The experience also made me notice how strongly the environment of a meal can shape behavior. I ate more slowly because the room was quiet and everyone was following the same steps. I paid more attention to my portion because I knew that I was expected to leave nothing behind.

This does not prove that baru gongyang is healthier than an ordinary meal. Instead, it raises questions about how surroundings, rules, portion size, and distractions may influence the way people eat.

These are questions I want to explore further through research on eating speed, portion size, mindful eating, and food waste.

A Question I Still Have

Experiencing baru gongyang answered some of the questions I had before visiting Jingwansa, but it also created new ones.

Because the practice we experienced was simplified for visitors, I am now curious about what traditional baru gongyang looks like in everyday monastic life.

Do monks practice baru gongyang at every meal? Does the practice differ depending on the temple, situation, or type of meal?

Before this experience, I thought the main lesson would simply be not to waste food. After participating, I realized that the practice asks a more difficult question: how much attention do we give to a meal before, during, and even after we eat it?

That is a question I want to continue exploring.

References

Cultural Corps of Korean Buddhism. “Baru Gongyang.” Korean Temple Food.

United Nations Environment Programme. (2024). Food Waste Index Report 2024. Nairobi: United Nations Environment Programme.