Yes, dear readers. I came to Thailand to teach Buddhist monks English. They have been thriving as I've told you.
And, there is another kind of thriving going on. I have scabies. ( That's the nice way of saying: "I've got body lice"!
I found out yesterday, after several sleepless nights scratching what I thought was just very, very dry skin and three trips to the hospital to try to get a diagnosis for fatigue and a very visible rash.
According to the American Academy of Dermatologists, scabies is caused by a tiny mite that has infested humans for at least 2,500 years. It is often hard to detect, and causes a fiercely, itchy skin condition. Dermatologists estimate that more than 300 million cases of scabies occur worldwide every year.
Scabies is a contagious ectoparasite skin infection characterized by superficial burrows, intense pruritus (itching) and secondary infection. It is caused by the mite Sarcoptes scabiei. The word scabies itself is derived from the Latin word for "scratch" (scabere). It is most likely to be found in smaller dogs.
So, a week ago I began itching,had a serious rash on every limb, and was fatigued--and worried since I'm due to leave soon and if I've got a tropical disease, I want it diagnosed where they see it every day. I was doggedly determined to get to the bottom of it. I know when there is something wrong with my body. ( Someone in the project had suggested with all manner of sensitivity that maybe it was just culture shock! Psychosomatic, I said? After five weeks, I mused?? Pretty severe symptoms for a "non disease".
My MSN in nursing, teaching nursing at three universities, and a healthy respect for communicable diseases and public health issues allowed me to turn a deaf ear to the critique. It took three hospital visits, a CBC ( very high white count ) and liver function ( negative, thank God since she was worried about Hepatitis C ), and finally--yes--on the third visit--finally...a physical exam--before I was diagnosed by a Thai dermatologist ( checked her bio before I went for the appointment).
The treatment for lice is de-lousing with a chemical compound that kills the microscopic lice that have borrowed into my flesh. I showered, put on the lye-like compound. Then I began scrubbing my room top to bottom, stripping and washing every sheet, every towel, every piece of clothing that I had warn in the past ten days. And shoes. Scrubbed.
It turns out, the temple where I am working has a bit of a...well.. what we would call in health care a ( ahem.. ) public health problem.
That problem in this situation, simply put, is that the doctor confirmed that some of the animals in this temple have mange and are carrying the mite that infected me, and perhaps humans as well, are obviously harboring lice. And make no mistake, lice is very, very contagious. Ask my dermatologist! When she examined me, her comment was: " If the causative agent which is the dogs that live there that have mange--and probably a student as well isn't eradicated from your environment, you are likely to be reinfected over and over."
My understanding of the Buddhist notion that all life should be honored is not a problem for me.I've been around the block. I know that the idea of expecting another culture or religion to adhere to standards of another culture is just unrealistic not to mention disrespectful. Look at the struggle to change habits with HIV. Or birth control. Or teaching mothers in third world countries to breast feed their newborns for a better beginning.
Because I have a background that includes a graduate degree in theology in tandem with the healthcare background--this is a perfect storm for me!
So, I get it. I don't have a problem with my students' belief system. And, frankly, even without the degrees, this is common sense. And the questions I ask are the same ones that have been asked for as long as people have been trying to help other people from the beginning of civilization.
The rhetorical question this scenario raises is this: When one does work outside one's own culture, how can one be stay safe and strong so that you can do the work you were sent to the other culture to do? Or a parallel one, are there strategies to discern the risk/benefit ratios?
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But the immediate question for me was simple: What to do about teaching my beloved monk students?
When I was diagnosed with scabies, two solutions to the problem of the infested classroom were offered: 1)stop teaching
( unacceptable to me, as I believe I owe my students more than that); or 2) the offer of switching to an upstairs classroom which has basically the same risks--feral cats and dogs roaming freely.
Let me explain. We have been working together for five weeks. So that amounts to 25 days more or less considering their high holidays and worship days on which we do not have class.
When I began, I had 8 to 10 tired looking monks. I had no idea how much they understood but, after the first few days, knew how much they understood about grammar. Their diction was awful--not their fault, just was.
My takeaway message for this entire time to them has been this: If you want teach something to someone in English,whether it is about Buddhism , or for those of you who will leave here after a time and want to get ahead in an English speaking job, you must be able to be UNDERSTOOD.
Number One.
I asked them to only speak English in class--not to help one another with a word or phrase that I was saying by translating it into Thai. That was hard for them.
But they did it.
Number Two.
I learned how to say " poot chaa chaa". That means "speak slowly" in Thai. Their diction improved markedly with slow deliberate speech. It was hard for them because it's easier to breeze through a sentence hoping you'll be understood.
But they did it.
Number Three.
I did everything I could to get them to look at me when I was teaching them pronunciation. That sounds easy but some of them are shy, and some of them have been taught that you do not look at a woman in the eyes. Being a teacher, it was a bit of a get-out-of-jail-free card, but still hard for them.
But they did it.
Number 4.
I told them that I wanted them to recite on a topic for the whole class on a topic of their choice--Buddhism, or if they were studying something else at university, that would be OK, too. I started buying and bringing in the International Herald Tribune and Time magazine for them ( too expensive for them to buy on their own ) so that they could read good English writing ( unlike the local English papers which are so-so..maybe on par with USA Today.from a writing perspective ).
The first readers chose pretty simple texts that they had, presumably used in prior English classes. It was still hard for them to read, to be corrected by me.
But they did it.
Number 5.
I taught them how to look up some good resources on the internet, how to discern if a site was any good with a battery of questions to ask themselves.
Soon, they would come into class and say: " Teacher, I looked up Time magazine on the internet last night, and the New York Times, and I saw some things."
I use the topics by the students to teach vocabulary. So, while they are reading aloud, if I think it is a big word or the other students look confused, I stop the reader. " What does abolish mean?" Someone other than the reader ( who is supposed to know ) gets a chance to answer. About half the time, now ( not so in the beginning ) one of my students will know the word. If not, the students with English dictionaries, look it up.
I put it on the board: Abolish ( v ) to stop or discontinue. And then I ask: who can use it in a sentence? In the beginning of this process, not one student ventured a guess. But now, they rush to be the first to speak. "Teacher, ...ah... In America, it took a long time to abolish slavery."
It was hard.
But they did it.
But the monks, especially the assistant abbot, Suraphet, and I came up with a solution. There is a small office that is at best 10 by 12 feet, that has a door, is clean. Poignantly, it was the suggestion of the Assistant Abbott, Suraphet, that we meet in his office which not only has a door that is closed and locked--but air conditioning ( did I mention that it is moving up in to the 100 degree range? ). He and the other faithful monks helped bring in the blackboard from our classroom into the little space, and class began.
It's tight with 8-10 monks who must keep a distance from me since they are forbidden to touch a woman. For the days since my diagnosis, that has been our makeshift classroom.
John Murray, my colleague, happened to be there the day after the diagnosis and ( bless him )told the monks that I must keep my shoes on ( against the custom when entering an interior room in this culture ) because I had an infection. Somehow, it seemed easier for them coming from him. I was concerned that it would be a sign of rudeness on my part. But I finally put my worry aside, and was reminded of what is my understanding of the "middle way" of Buddhism which I've mentioned before. The Lord Buddha would never want me-or anyone-- to do anything that would be harmful to themselves-- even if it was out of the ordinary rules of conduct ( ie the monks fasting after their noon meal as an example).
And what has happened in that little office for the past two days has been more than my wildest dreams. Amazing. It's as if it is all coming together. All their hard work.
These young men, whose diction was, at best, difficult to understand, were reading articles aloud from the International Herald Tribune on everything from the Khmer Rouge trial in Phnom Penn to an editorial by the president of Liberia about the importance of Abraham Lincoln to the growth of freedom in that country. And, it isn't rote. They understand the story. What is torture? What is persecution?
Where is Liberia? I ask them. And, with their earnest, bright minds and eagerness to please, one or the other will begin with:
"Teacher...I know what persecution means. I will use it in a sentence."
So, I don't care where I teach as long as the students are getting the instruction from me that will help them in their future. Some will stay monks. Some will become tour guides. Some will--who knows--be politicians--or fathers-- or merchants.
But I simply want to give them what I came here to give them for these last few days. Oh, and not get sick doing it.
Today, Chieng, one of my students who speaks French, German, Cambodian, Thai, and English said: "Teacher, when you leave next week, we will be sorry.We will email you in English And, before you leave, we will say the poem you gave us when you came,he poem Benaught, to bless you on your journey home."
In closing, it occurs to me that this six week teaching assignment isn't grand. It isn't going to bring world peace, it isn't going to save even one refugee from Sri Lanka or Uganda or Myanmar. It isn't going to create a solution for the Palestinian/ Israeli struggle. Or Egypt's oppressive legal system in regards to women's rights.
That's one of the reasons I wanted to do it. I had run a business, sat on boards making policy, had faculty management positions at university. I just wanted to give back to the grassroots with no fanfare--no charity fundraiser balls, no business expense account, no glam.
It is the day-to-day, that I think,that is the challenge, the tough stuff.To do the right thing when no one is watching. No papparazzi. No press of any kind. Just doing the work. Just finding the best solution to meet your commitments gracefully. It makes us better people. It's those little-bitty challenges,that we say "yes" to, that make us authentic. More-than-we-thought-we-could-be. It isn't the drama--or the people who live the drama.
And that is what my little classroom represents to me regardless of critique or struggle. The image will live in my heart. When I am old, I will remember the saffron robes and the deep brown eyes of Nan and Sa and KimYi and Kraingsak. And wonder where they are, what they're doing, who they've become?
But most of all, I'll know I did it best I could.
MC
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