Children are from heaven

Having no previous experience with children I gradually realize that children are the greatest adventurers, the greatest explorers and daredevils of their age, the most perceptive learners and teachers alike. In the classroom I seldom have time to stop and reflect upon the experience, but today I was observing some of the children as they were colouring. Quietly, sitting right opposite them and still being far away.

Last week I taught them how to use the expression "Sorry, I don't understand" rather than their notorious "Uaaa". After the class, one of the girls asked me in Chinese "How are you?" and I smiled at her and asked: "What does it mean?".

Today they reproached me for teaching them language which I don't use myself.

Stay with me

It is stupendously uplifting to realize how many people enjoy reading all this. Stay with me, please.

Food Paradise

If you eat you don't think. If you think you don't eat. -- Nelson Phan

Too oily

Something profoundly alarming is going on and on... I just can't fathom this. Oil must be priced significantly higher than it is now. True, it would cause a serious setback for the global economy but it would sustain the world!

Dear Mistake

It gives me goose pimples when I start to think of the tremendous learning I am a tiny part of. As I put it to my friends in Scotland, I’m trying to pass on what I’ve been given so far – a wee bit of English and a lot of myself. The more I learn about learning, the more I realize the paramount importance of mistake. Such a simple thing with such vast consequences for the whole process of learning. Some of us – and I used to be one like that – seem to fear their mistakes to such an extent that they try to steer clear of whatever might involve them in making mistakes.

Now, I feel it is high time we changed this mindset. Learners must embrace their mistakes with affection and warmth if they are to set out on an exciting journey of learning. Therefore, I mean to give some of my shiest teen students voluntary homework. I will give them a simple sentence and tell them to rewrite it and try to make as many mistakes as they can at the same time. Absurd as it may seem, it will prove obvious, I believe, that the biggest mistake they can make is to produce or attempt nothing at all.

I had a dream...

In fact, I had two dreams and both were very disturbing. Both of them involved me in an interpersonal conflict. Next morning I tried my utmost to get something out of it but my efforts didn’t seem to yield any fruit.

At last, yesterday a glimpse of the meaning came out. On Friday and Saturday I teach in Alor Star. The person in charge of this branch is yet another one I can’t relate to there. Our relationship began by her doubting my skills and ability to teach. Then she went on to insist on me pretending that I come from the UK. Deceiving people in such an outrageous way, she crushed my cultural identity in that place and what is more, defeated the object of AIESEC’s principle of cultural sharing and understanding. She also doesn’t seem to acknowledge the obvious differences between the two of us – an Indian woman in her 50s and a Czech student – in that she is surprised at my inability or unwillingness to socialize with her and the staff more than I deem necessary. Obvious as it may seem, she is primarily concerned about the numbers and her own comfort while my primary concern is purely that of learning. She also doesn’t realize that the purpose of teaching is learning and not controlling the class. Anyway, I could carry on and on but to cut a long story short, she would often complain about the inefficiency of the local educational system which puts so much strain on the youngsters but at the same time she is unfortunately not aware of how much rigid she is herself.

My question now is whether she is supposed to be a part of my mission and commitment. I love my students to the best of my current ability and it costs me an enormous amount of energy. Shall I spare a bit for her? What do you think?

Sometimes, I feel that I don’t know well enough how to protect myself against those who want to bite. However, the more I fail to stand up for myself the more I know how to stand up for others. We will soon welcome another teacher, this time from Macedonia. She is supposed to help me out in Alor Star and I will make sure that she will not have to go through the same ordeal.

I will persevere despite whoever dare stay in my way.

Trees and Birds

I clean forgot to mention one thing yesterday! It was the first time that I could notice trees and birds. I could listen to their singing as it mingled with the leaves rustling in the breeze. I could feel it and what is more, the feeling lingers on.

Labour of Love

We are soon moving into a new house. I am particularly elated by its tranquil setting close to the jungle but of course, there is a lot of work ahead of us. I started with painting today and when I texted my mum I made an enlightining mistake. In Czech the verb ‘to paint’ (malovat) is, except for a single letter, exactly the same as the verb ‘to love’ (milovat). I found myself writing about ‘loving the new house’ rather than ‘painting the new house’ and it dawned on me that the two things are closely intertwined. As I put more and more into it my affection for the place is growing.

However, this is true generally. Through the labour I grow in love and as I become more loving I am able and willing, too, to labour ever harder.

The King of the Road

I often catch myself observing other people’s shoes. The only window-shopping I might have ever done must have definitely been prompted by an exquisite pair of shoes. I am utterly fascinated or maybe rather obsessed, I should say, with all sorts of footwear.

Apart from observing, I also love to put myself in a stranger’s shoes and take a leisurely stroll. So while we were killing some time in a trishaw in Georgetown, Penang, I snapped up the chance to talk the owner into letting me ride ‘the king of the road’ for a short stretch. It was short indeed, yet exhilirating and inspiring. And amusing for onlookers...

Stand up

People customarily stand up in many a context – in a church or classroom for example - but I suspect they do it rather unthinkingly. In effect, without examining the symbolic meaning of such an action, they do not challenge the authority which silently requires people to go with the flow.

However, I sincerely believe that we ocasionally have to stand up to such institutionalised behaviour by not standing up when we are supposed to since it serves a number of good purposes. First and foremost, it makes you belong on the spot to a minority and on the other hand, finds the majority being exposed to a ‘sore thumb’. That is a thought-provoking and perhaps peace-promoting set-up which effects are unlikely to pass one by.

Finally, I daresay that being a member of a minority makes for greater understanding of other minorities – commonly pressurized, often underprivileged or worse still, oppressed.

Interpersonal x intercultural

Recently I was forced to retort bluntly to one of my colleagues when she improperly insisted on me answering her awkward questions while she was well aware I was preoccupied with my own thoughts. I hadn’t been able to relate to this person previously because her sense of humour is simply beyond me. Even so, immediately afterwards I started thinking whether it was an interpersonal or rather intercultural conflict. Andrew, as he witnessed the incident, suggested it was the former, yet I came to realize later on that it had a lot to do with the latter.

The reason to it is that my boss was chatting with this person as if they were the best friends under the sun even though he had confided in me that he would dismiss her on the grounds of her professional disloyalty and unpredictability. And that is, I learnt, very typical of the culture. People commonly use little affectations in order to keep their face-to-face contacts sweet but there is little sincerity. That’s why I perhaps overreacted. It wasn’t because of the questions, awkward or innocent though they might have been.

Why should I seek help in psychotherapy?

Sometimes you would hear me saying that I’d rather opt for the more difficult one of the ways ahead if I am to choose between two. Well, that’s not really true. I would do it only if there is a promise that I could get something out of that unnecessary hassle. A case in point would be my elementary class which I decided to keep when I was about to hand over two of my classes to Andrew, a dear colleague of mine, even though I had struggled with them tremendously. I am deeply convinced that I can learn a lot from handling this seemingly uninterested and uninspiring class. That’s a challenge which I relish.

Occasionally my family would urge me not to put too much strain on myself and to beware my limits. Maybe they do not realize the vast power I’m getting to wield. Power to handle more and more, power to take up a challenge previously unthinkable and accomplish the goals it imposes. Power to change things for better. Power to surrender bits and pieces of myself once they turn out hindering my spiritual growth and accept the gifts I’m being offered along the way to replace them.

Having myself gone through psychotherapy I can easily relate to M. Scott Peck’s view (gosh, again?): Psychotherapy is not about happiness; it is about power. If you go the whole route here, I cannot guarantee you that you will leave one jot happier. What I can guarantee you is that you will leave more competent. But there is a vacuum of competence in the world, and so as soon as people become more competent, God or life will give them bigger things to do.

Coming back to Scotland

However difficult, learning about life and similarly profound issues is exciting. I have come to believe over the past year or so that to get a new insight and to attain a higher level of appreciation of life is a gift, which is often accompanied by tears as if they epitomised the struggle to give up something false which is no longer needed and must go in order to make space for the gift.

Last Sunday I went to a baptist church on the Penang island to see what a Sunday service is like over here and more importantly to recall some of my memories and experiences from beloved Scotland where I was initiated into the meaning of spirituality. I didn’t therefore really pay attention to what was going on in the church. I was miles away and tears filled my eyes as I relived the experience. I think it was a reflection of a tremendous gift which I brought back from Scotland... a gift which will possibly never be fully understood.