Monday, August 2, 2010

Post 32: Stranger in a Strange Land

Peace Corps Earth

I recently began reading Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert Heinlein. It is a science fiction novel, and a pretty big departure from my usual reading material. The book was brought to my attention because it addresses questions of consciousness and Buddhist principles. As these are two strains of thought that I ponder with regularity during the long, solitary hours at site, I was intrigued. I found Stranger in a Strange Land to be Brave New World meets Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy meets The Life of Buddha meets Thailand. The basic plot revolves around Valentine Michael Smith, a human baby born on Mars and raised by Martians. As a young adult, he is brought back to a futuristic earth and adapts to human life, while maintaining a Martian mindset. Martian culture strongly embodies many Buddhist principles, and the eightfold path is constantly referred to as “Mike” strives for Right Action, Right Speech, and attempts to avoid Wrongfulness. Being more perceptive than most humans, Mike can intuitively sense what is right and what is wrong, beyond society’s moral code. He can also dissociate from his body, immune to physical discomfort and is able to focus his mind entirely on what is in front of him, whether it be kissing a pretty girl or grokking an experience. He does not understand time or money, is not prone to emotion beyond profound brotherly love. He emphasizes the importance of patiently waiting for the right moment in any situation. All around him, he sees humans- hurried, anxious, insecure, angry, untrustworthy, misguided, and close -minded. He sees their struggles, but has difficulty comprehending why humans do not feel a connection to the Universe, to God, to Eternity the way he does; why they do not understand Truth. Martians know that in Eternity is the ever-changing Now, and in the ever-changing Now is Eternity. In English, one might say, “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
This is my excuse for not writing in many, many moons. Schools re-opened in May and while there are countless subtle variations in my existence, there was not much to blog about beyond what I’ve already said. Inexplicable emotions, uncontrollable thoughts, philosophical musings, spiritual ponderings, self-discoveries- these have all come over me in deceptively forceful waves these past few months, and as I am not prone to baring my heart and soul over the internet, I found myself with little to write. But as I’ve learned from the Martians, from Thailand, and from a fictional French hotel concierge, that which seems little is just as worthwhile as that which seems big, and often they are the same.
This year, Thangam school finally received a full roster of competent teachers. The teacherless second, third, and forth graders now have actual teachers and are actually learning, and the first, fifth, and sixth graders who had to share their teachers last year are benefitting as well. The three new staff additions are all women under 50 and wonderful personalities. There is quiet Dtoom who doles out tough love to her rambunctious second graders, spunky Jiap who can’t weigh on ounce over 80 pounds but eats like a horse, and chatty Dta who wears Thai silk suits every day and whose husky voice dominates any room she is in. What used to be four person lunches has mushroomed into a packed table of 8, with the principal, office assistant, and random visitors joining us. Lunch usually lasts until 1, despite the fact that classes begin at 12:30, and it is something of a rush to fit in all my teaching before the milk truck arrives at 3 pm and the students stop studying.
This year, I am teaching a new round of first graders with Pii Orasa. They are a sweet group, as first graders tend to be, but their animal impersonations (D-Dog, E-Elephant-F-Fish) fall behind last year’s class in cuteness. One boy named Boong never seems to wear underwear, and has an unfortunate habit of dropping his shorts while adjusting his belt. Dtak, who also goes by “Big Butterfly”, is by all standards humongous for a six year old. Little Anuchit is already experiencing male pattern baldness and thinks every letter is called “C”. They are a motley crew, but they are growing on me. My former first-second grade split class I teach again. These are my favorite students and the ones who keep me here on rough days. There are 12 of them who learn so quickly I am amazed, run up for hugs every chance they get, and never cease to make me smile with how seriously they take our learn-to-read games. They can already read better than the sixth graders and my only issue with them is over-excitement, which is easily remedied by a quick round of Ghost in the Graveyard.
My sixth grade class from last year graduated, and I was hoping to focus entirely on first through third grade, but Dta and the principal felt I should teach the sixth graders to prepare them for the February tests. This is a challenge, because it is a class of mostly unmotivated kids with vast differences in ability. Some of the students don’t know the alphabet, while others can read multiple syllable words. How this happened, I do not know, but I am not yet an experienced enough teacher to deal with it effectively. Furthermore, one or two of the students are prone to misbehavior, flagrantly ignoring me and acting out. As someone who was always a dedicated and curious student, I get really frustrated with the kids who just don’t care. It’s not something I can relate to. In one of the first weeks, I got mad at a girl who doodled all over a flashcard and made her sit out the activity. Dta later told me that she was crying after class and has an awful home life-the usual story of poor, absent and/or drunk parents who take no stock in their children’s education. I felt terrible, and it is difficult figuring out how hard to push. Teaching is smoother now; I am more comfortable in front of a classroom, more confident in the things I do, and I have last year’s lesson plans and activity ideas to draw from. But teaching, particularly in a rural/poor school where most of the students aspire to nothing beyond the rice fields, is not easy, particularly with the language barrier. I have become much better at accepting my limitations, those of my students, and letting certain things slide.
Thangam is the school where I am working on the Library Development Project. We divided the library into six sections: Thai, English, Health, Science, Geography, and Art. Between the books sent to me from the generous souls back home, the books procured from NGOs in Thailand, and the library’s existing collection, the shelves are almost full. There are now educational posters on the wall and a globe, although a fourth of the covering was ripped off by a mischievous child, and my handmade geography posters are hung after I teach the lesson. I led an America lesson for the Fourth of July, and so a US Landmark poster (Statue of Liberty, Congress, Disney World, Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, Golden Gate Bridge etc…) now hangs next to an American Culture poster (football, hamburgers, Thanksgiving, democracy, cowboys, diversity etc…). After all the excitement about the World Cup, I planned an awesome Africa lesson where we would make masks out of construction paper, complete with an awesome poster with pictures of Africa’s Seven Natural Wonders, and information about the continent. Unfortunately, this being Thailand, I have been unable to execute it due to Teacher Appreciation Day, student home visits, sports day, budget meetings, a parent meeting, school re-organizing, random closings, and the beginning of Buddhist Lent. Someday. Patience Grasshopper.
At Wat Bot School, business is as usual. Pii Som and I teach 3 classes of sixth graders and 2 classes of seventh graders. Thankfully, the kids are better behaved this year, albeit talkative. Last year, the seventh graders were the bane of my existence. I dreaded teaching the class, which had a contingent of rude and delinquent boys with serious attitude problems and they sent negative energy all over the classroom. My seventh graders this year were my sixth graders last year, and so not only familiar with me, but generally sweeter kids. However, this does not stop Pii Som from dedicating a significant period of time each week to chastising them on their bad manners, not particularly conducive to learning English. We set aside a time on Wednesday mornings for lesson planning and project development, and while I try to use the time to work on our Safe Sex Education seminar, these mornings are rarely productive. I’d like to say that this is due to Pii Som, who uses the time to get massages for her “leg aches” or buy pineapple to exhume her “toxins”, but I’ve gotten on board with the Thai mentality too. Wednesday mornings I don’t set an alarm (although the rice trucks wake me up early anyway) and luxuriate over a second cup of coffee before biking to school.
One Sunday morning in June, I was woken up to the sound of a chain saw outside my window. Groggily, I ventured out to see what was going on, and found my landlady supervising 4 men cutting down the trees in my yard. The workers stared at me as if I was the one amiss and kept hacking away. My landlady came onto my porch and said she is building another house to rent out, and will not only be using wood from my yard, but also storing it there. The first order of business was thus to build a huge, unsightly woodshed in front of my house. I was less than thrilled. Not only was my personal space being invaded without permission or courtesy, but there were strange men now laying in my hammock, taking away my trees, and throwing their garbage in my yard. Furthermore, I would have to live indefinitely with an ugly woodshed, no hammock (it is now trapped behind a pile of wood), and workers coming to my house at random to chop and collect wood. I made no effort to conceal my irritation and complained about it loudly to my neighbors, which is not very Thai of me, but I’ve lived here long enough where I do not constantly feel the need to tip-toe around smiling. But if I’ve learned anything, it is that sometimes things are out of my control, and fighting against what I cannot change only causes frustration and anger. Accepting reality is considerably less stressful. I feel a pang everyday when I see the haphazard shack in my yard, and my poor little hammock wrapped sadly around the one remaining branch on my jackfruit tree, but what’s a girl to do?
In Stranger in a Strange Land (a phrase also used in Paulo Cohelo’s The Alchemist-a book which never ceases to move me with its wisdom and has a surprising amount in common with Stranger), Mike forms a pseudo-religious sect based around Martian teachings. The members of the “nest” practice meditation, brotherly love, and patience. They know that pleasure in most things in amplified when shared; that jealousy, insecurity, and fear are the opposite of love, which elevates us and is the greatest good; and that hurrying through life with eyes forever on the horizon is the best way to miss it. Many of these lessons, I’ve begun to understand in Thailand. In a world where days move slowly, schedules are rarely adhered, and my routine is often commandeered by outside forces, I’ve learned to place less value on Time. I’ve seen that boredom is discontentment with the current situation, and by ignoring time, it can be overcome. Counting minutes, hours, days, months, is a quick way to feel restless and unsatisfied, and focusing on the present removes some of that agitation. I’ve seen that “waiting for fullness”, or allowing things to unfold in their own time (usually slowly), is always the best course. The universe reveals our paths to us, but we need to be patient and perceptive enough to see the signs.
I’ve seen that not every part of everyday needs to be filled, and sometimes it is good to sit and listen to silence. I’ve learned that to share something we value is to find more value in it. I see that money not scrupulously accounted for is far more enjoyable than counting pennies, and sometimes it’s just as fun to have no money as it is to have plenty. Obviously, saving money is prudent, but I also understand the liberation that exists in not needing to save, in spending what you have as you wish. I also have come to know that real happiness comes from within. While this is hardly a novel thought, I never fully understood it until I was entirely responsible for my own happiness. My response to a situation affects my happiness far more than any external factor. Furthermore, by finding joy in small every day things, and not needing constant stimulation, I am more able to exist fully in the present. It is so easy to get hung up on the future, money, adrenaline, relationships, image, convention, insecurity, and expectations. I am by no means free from any of these things, but I am loosening their hold on me. It is a difficult, daily battle. Slowly, it gets easier; the universe, my soul, and their connection seem clearer. I am just beginning to grok it all.

1 comment:

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