“WHAT GOES ON INWARDLY IS WORTHY OF YOUR LOVE.”

(Rainer Maria Rilke)

If I had to slap a label on myself …

Another excerpt from a note to a friend in Melbourne (is it opportunistic of me to copy fragments of emails?!):

— Things are finally calming down (including me), and I have a little space and time to write to all the people I care for, and who have compelling questions … questions I have been avoiding, I might add!

Do I follow a particular faith or is my interest in comparative religion more of an exploratory or academic endeavor? Though I attended a fair number of Christian summer camps as a child (even then I thought, “Why would a loving God punish his people? I think Jesus is already in my heart. I don’t get it!”) and went through a phase of guardian angel zealotry when my parents were going through a divorce, I’ve never been religious, per se. I have, however, always been “spiritual,” meaning that I have always believed in something deeper and wider and grander than that which my mind can grasp and hold—something defined by mystery and magic.

If I had to slap a label on myself, it might read: “Once enchanted, still idealistic, left-leaning female animist-naturalist-humanist-lover-poet-Sufi.” I believe, quite simply, in Love and Nature; I believe in the sacred sap and flow between all living, breathing, animated life. Yes, that is the simple version. The truth is, I am hugely uncertain, and cannot decide if this is rooted in avoidance or a respect for ambiguity and mystery.

My mom grew up in a Catholic family and under the tutelage of uptight nuns, and used to have a little spice pot on the stove labeled “Catholic Guilt,” which made me laugh and cringe. I can see why you say you’re “better now.” Like you, I would guess that many, if not most, people are in it for the community … and for the safety of knowing what one should believe and think and do … religion is an antidote to existential angst, no?

I don’t know anymore, and I don’t know that I ever have known what religion is and why it is at the root of so much beauty and pain. More than anything, I find virtue in the religious impulse, the desire and need to surrender oneself, to give up one’s ego projects and illusions of control. Rather than asking “Are you religious?” I am inclined to ask, “In what way are you religious? What brings you to your knees?”

I agree that being religious is as much about culture as religion, I do, but I also feel a bit frustrated with this as it seems to cause a hell of a lot of problems—problems related to identity more than divinity.

You must read Franny and Zooey by JD Salinger; it is a fine commentary on what it means—really means—to be Christian, to have a Christ-like approach, a Christ-like heart.

The fire and brimstone stuff doesn’t sit well for me either … and while I also find the Eastern wisdom more amenable to how I think, I struggle with certain aspects of it, namely karma as justification for injustice (this is not everyone’s approach, of course) and the ideal of cool-hearted non-attachment, which I see virtue in but which does not seem indigenous to my wooly, Sufi heart. The Sufis believe that falling in Love—with the Beloved, with God—is the most religious act/process; I do too. My problem is that I get stuck in thinking about God instead of loving God, plain and simple.

As you can see, I am still very much in the process of answering your questions—and will be for awhile.

But I appreciate the invitation to engage and articulate such things.

What about you? Fill me in! Tell me more! “Curious to know how you feel about these issues?”

The final weeks, and I’m wearing a moose hat.

The Final Weeks in Thailand 2009 (11/30/09 – 12/23/09)

Week 5 • Monday, 11/30 o Seminar at the Lemon Tree, 10am-1pm (Meet in lobby @ 9.45am) • Tuesday, 12/1 o Registration and Scholarship Info Meeting in the Tri Gong courtyard, 10-11am o International Aids Awareness Day in Chiang Mai (Optional) o Speak Easy (Details to follow) • Wednesday, 12/2 o Seminar at the Lemon Tree, 10am-1pm o Dinner at Aroon Rai and Night Tour I with Frank and Becky (Meet in lobby @ 6pm) • Thursday, 12/3 o Elephant Nature Park Day Visit (Meet in lobby at 8am) • Friday, 12/4 o Independent Projects o Dinner at Aroon Rai and Night Tour II with Frank and Becky (Meet in lobby @ 6pm) • Saturday, 12/5 o Free Day • Sunday, 12/6 o Free Day

Week 6 • Monday, 12/7 o Seminar at the Lemon Tree, 10am-1pm • Tuesday, 12/8 o Independent Projects o On-site introduction to Empower, 4-6pm (Meet in lobby @ 3.15pm) • Wednesday, 12/9 o Seminar at the Lemon Tree, 10am-1pm o Spiritual Gathering (Details to follow) • Thursday, 12/10 o Independent Projects o Speak Easy (Details to follow) • Friday, 12/11 o Independent Projects • Saturday, 12/12 o Free Day • Sunday, 12/13 o Free Day

Week 7 • Monday, 12/14 o Seminar at the Lemon Tree, 10am-1pm o On-site introduction to the Baha’i Center with Nasser Jafari (Meet in lobby @ 5.45pm) • Tuesday, 12/15 o Independent Projects • Wednesday, 12/16 o Independent Projects o Holiday Dinner Party (Details to follow) • Thursday, 12/17 o Visa Run (Meet in lobby @ 9am, passport in hand!) o Community Festival/Presentations (Details to follow) • Friday, 12/18 o Empty Space Writing Intensive (Meet in lobby @ 11am)  We will rent a small space at Tri Gong for luggage, but please pack everything as compactly/neatly as possible. • Saturday, 12/19 o Empty Space Writing Intensive • Sunday, 12/20 o Empty Space Writing Intensive o Spiritual Gathering/Goodbye Ceremony

Week 8 • Monday, 12/21 o Empty Space Writing Intensive • Tuesday, 12/22 o Empty Space Writing Intensive • Wednesday, 12/23 o Vacation begins

INFO/RESOURCES http://www.afar.com/ http://outside.away.com/index.html http://www.accesstoinsight.org/ http://www.monkchat.net/ http://www.buddhanet.net/sangha-metta/project.html http://www.emptyspacechiangmai.info/emptyspacechiangmai.info/index.html http://www.lonelyplanet.com/thailand/chiang-mai-province/chiang-mai http://www.trigong.com/ http://www.empowerfoundation.org

beneath my breastbone

Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves—as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. (From the letters of Rainer Maria Rilke)

Cleansed, reminded, renewed; that is how I feel this evening. Cleansed by her tears, and by the company of her pulpy, raw and real heart, so very similar to the one that beats beneath my breastbone, beneath the bandages and patches. Reminded that awareness is often the harbinger of pain (and vice versa), and that pain is a great teacher. Renewed in the sense that I know what I am doing here, and that it feels meaningful. “I cannot bear this,” she cried. “I cannot take all this in. I want to stay home and be happy. I want to pretend this does not exist.”

A day with Frank and Becky—a day of grappling with human trafficking, poverty and statelessness—will do that to you. We’ve got another four days to go, one in the classroom and three in the field.

I feel blessed to be working with such honest, wakeful human beings, and know that I will not be satisfied unless I commit myself to work that addresses these issues in some way, work that helps to alleviate human suffering. Over and over again, I am forced to ask myself: What is my cause, my path, my purpose? What is my responsibility? How do I numb out and turn off? Why? How can I stay open? How can I really, truly feel the grief and import of all this and still make it in and through the world? Have I pulled my boot straps too high, put on one too many layers of protection? Why does my heart and humanity feel so distant, so drowsy?

I must say, I also feel blessed to be surrounded by twenty-something students who remind me of abandoned parts of my being: compassionate, fiery, insistent parts.

“This all just makes me want to become Christian!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “To confess my sins and pick up The Bible and stop thinking about all this shit!”

I’ve had similar cravings, let me tell you. I have to acknowledge that some part of me took the job with CRC because I nursed the hope that studying religion would make me religious, that surveying my options would help me make a choice. I dreamt of a clear path, a reliable map.

I’m still dreaming, but I also realize that I’m trekking through rocky, uncertain terrain. We all are.

No GPS for this.

Perhaps it is strange that I feel baptized by her tears, but I do. I really, really do. Not only baptized, but absolutely honored. Her grief is mine, but in its pure, unrefined form. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I wrapped my own pulpy, raw and real heart in cotton wool and put it to bed. “Hush, now! Stop being so damn difficult, stop making such a fuss!”

But I don’t want to sleepwalk through life. A heartfelt “state of emergency … is where I want to be” (Bjork). What I do want is to rest, to abide, in reverence for the ambiguity and complexity of it all. I do want to believe in goodness—or at least in its possibility.

(Thank you, Lari.)

Next Week’s Schedule

I have been looking forward to this for a very long time. It promises to be intense but absolutely fascinating …

SOCIAL ISSUES IN SOUTHEAST ASIA: Five Day Seminar and Practical Field Trip, 2009

Two Day Classroom Seminar Component

1. Introductions
2. Drugs and Drug Trafficking
3. Human Trafficking:  Labor and Sex Work
   1. Video Sacrifice
   2. Undercover video, Mae Sai
   3. Group work:  sex trafficking in Phayao
4. HIV:  Risk Factors, Demographics, Innovative Programs      
   1. Cabbages and Condoms
   2. Sangha Metta Project
   3. Thailand v. U.S. pharmaceutical manufacturers
5. Sex Tourism, Its Economic and Cultural Impact
6. Child Sex Tourism/Pedophiles “Sexpats”
   1. Video Dateline
   2. Group work: farang pedophile case
7. Cross Border Migration
   1. Class discussion:  irregular migration
8. Human Rights
   1. Group work:  gender discrimination
9. Statelessness
10. Domestic Violence
11. Child Labor
12. Photographic Exercise:  Child Work or Child Labor?
13. Institutionalized Corruption
    1. Discussion on police corruption

*Note: An optional, accompanied three hour tour to view local Chiang Mai City sex outlets can be arranged for students and coordinators from 7 – 10 pm any evening.     

Three Day Northern Thailand Field Trip Component

Day One:

a)       Drive from Chiang Mai to Fang District. The emphasis in this area will be on illegal and trafficked laborers from Myanmar/Burma who work in the many fruit orchards and other agricultural enterprises.

b)      Drive through the Thaton area. The emphasis in this area will be on the influence of illegal drugs.  We will point out Ban Huay San, formerly Ban Lao Ta and talk about Lao Ta Sae-li and his family of major hill tribe (Lisu) drug traffickers allied with the United Wa State Army (UWSA).

Lunch in Thaton

c)       Drive along the border areas between Thaton and Mae Salong en route to Chiang Rai. The emphasis in this area will be on the United Wa State Army (UWSA) and their influence along the Thai-Burmese border. We will point out certain locations which are controlled jointly by the Thai military and the UWSA. We will also talk about the UWSA leadership (Pao Yu-hsiang, Pao Yu-i, (Brothers); Wei Hsueh-kang, Wei Hsueh-lung, Wei Hsueh-ying (brothers); and Wei Tsai-tang (no relation).

d)      We will drive along the border to Doi Mae Salong. The emphasis in this area will be on the history and long-lasting cultural influence of the Kuomintang (KMT). We will talk about Chinese Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek and KMT Generals Lee Wen-huan (3^rd Regiment-93^rd Division) and Tuan Shi-wen (5^th Regiment-93^rd Division). We will view General Tuan’s tomb. We will take a first hand look at the many tea and coffee growing crops and shops located in this area. Oolong and green tea tastings will be part of this segment.

e)       We will then drive to Chiang Rai City. As we are approaching the city we will talk about the influence of the Shan United Army/Mong Tai Army which was led by Chiang Chi-fu, also called Khun Sa.

Dinner and overnight in Chiang Rai City

Day Two:

a)       We will drive from Chiang Rai to Wat Tham Plaa and view the Burmese Style Temple and enjoy the abundant monkeys and fish for a brief period early in the morning. This brief segment is designed as a break from the seriousness of the other subjects discussed during the field tour.

b)      We will drive to Mae Sai and visit the Burmese Child Care Center. The emphasis in this segment will be on the dilemma of stateless people and the effects on their lives and the lives of their children of statelessness.

Lunch in Mae Sai

c)       We will visit the DEPDC Center. The emphasis in this segment will be on sex trafficking. DEPDC is a model center for the prevention of human trafficking. We will talk the founder of this organization, Mr. Somphop Jantrakan.

d)      We will do a brief tour of the Mae Sai bridge area. This segment will point out the vast differences between those people living on the Mae Sai, Thailand, side of the bridge and those people living on the Tachilek, Burma, side of the bridge. Students and coordinators will have the option of crossing the bridge for a brief period of time if desired.

Dinner and overnight in Mae Sai

 

Day Three:

a)       Travel to Chiang Saen. The emphasis in this segment will be on the increasing economic development along the Mekong River, both legal and illegal. We will tour the Opium Museum and view the infamous Golden Triangle.

Lunch enroute

b)      Return to Chiang Mai City, stopping along the way at “Cabbages and Condoms”. The emphasis at this stop will be on the influence of retired Thai/Scottish Senator Meechai Viravaidhya in the areas of HIV/AIDS, family planning and anti-corruption.

Ugly Fruit

So as to balance the scales, to set the bad alongside the good and honor life’s weightiness, I’ve decided to write from a place and state of mind that can only be described as “heavy” and “ugly,” a state of mind that induces lethargy and makes me scowl. I generally write about beautiful things: things that are lofty and sweet-smelling, but that may well wreak of unchecked idealism. It seems that part of growing older (for me, at least) is checking one’s idealism: picking up the ugly fruit, grabbing life by the balls.

To indulge in another metaphor of touch, it is high time I stroke the underbelly of SE Asia—and of CRC, for that matter. It is time I stop talking about Thailand’s mango-bee pollen shakes and cheap massages and start talking about the human rights abuses, hypocrisy and injustice that I see all around me. It is time I mention that in the last three weeks we have been absorbed in the study of disability, disease, displaced people, fundamentalism, greedy and tyrannical leaders and massacres. In chronological order, we’ve covered: the struggle and suffering of the Shan Burmese, those living with HIV/AIDS, those living with autism, those oppressed and silenced by the church and those oppressed and silenced by highly delusional, insecure, power-hungry governments and regimes.

Quite recently, one of the students mentioned that she has a t-shirt that reads: “Maybe people are essentially good.” My immediate response? “It seems maybe is the operative word …”

Today we attended a lecture on “Myanmar Issues,” i.e. “The Sad Situation in Burma (and how it relates to so many other sad situations around the world).” Today I let in just how cruel and fucked up some human beings are and felt myself collapse and give up a little. I am saddened by the widespread injustice in the world and in many ways, feel utterly helpless (never a good feeling). I also struggle with feelings of guilt and shame—for being American, for being privileged, for being white. But I know this is too easy and not fair or intelligent.  

Perhaps it is also time I acknowledge that working for CRC is not always an enlightening experience; it is sometimes utterly demanding and frustrating. I’ve been exhausted all week and pretty depressed as a result. After two lectures (A Christian Looks at Buddhist Religion and A Buddhist Looks at Christian Religion) and an epic “processing meeting” on Monday, during which the students moaned about the nebulous nature of the schedule (rightfully so … but to my distress, I have very little control over this at the moment), all I could manage was an evening of lying on my back, staring at the ceiling and scowling about the fact that I cannot go “home” at the end of my work day and be left to my thirty-something friends and vices. I’m aching for a footloose and fancy-free conversation and exchange. I miss everyone so much, and yet I have so little energy to spare right now. I have been toting around a list of people to write and things to write about for weeks, but seem incapable of sitting down and doing it. I hope and trust that this will change and that I will bounce back soon enough …

At the end of the day, as Annie put it, “[my] job rocks.” I am quite obviously nourished by both the beautiful and ugly fruits of my labor. At the very least, I’ve got myself an interesting underbelly.

Still at the loom (an unfinished piece) …

Life has not only been indulgent and kind of late (fragrant gardens, jasmine foot baths, et cetera), but also extremely fascinating. My understanding of Thai culture and society, and of culture and society in general, is deepening. I am penetrating the surface of things; I am getting muddier and braver (alongside my colleague and students). The last few weeks have been among the most instructive of my life. Images of our trip to the Thai-Burmese border, which entailed early morning chanting and meditation with Phra Chai, afternoons with novice monks, evenings with the Shan refugees, and nights in earthen huts, continually wash over me (and purify some part of me). One of the highlights of CRC at large? Being blindfolded, chased and mercilessly tickled by a small group of 9 to 12-year-old girls at the refugee camp temple after teaching them the days of the week and months of the year in English. Another? The sight of the refugees and their scruffy puppies huddled beneath the roughly hewn roof of the TV hut, huddled beneath a silky parachute of stars. 

God, the last few weeks have been a veritable night sky: full of darkness and full of a light that punctures and transcends. We’ve received countless lectures. We’ve been asked to stand on our head, to view things from a different angle. We’ve talked HIV, AIDS, needles, commercial sex, widespread infidelity, widespread poverty. We’ve talked with those who suffer from one or all of the above. We met a woman who lost her husband, learned he had given her HIV, and then lost two of her three babies to AIDS. We met a 44 year-old man with autism who has spent his life at the loom and who channels his spirit and laughter into endless threads and throes, whose father started an organization called “The Healing Family Foundation” to challenge the practice of abandoning or hiding disabled children …

Meditation Retreat in Wianghaeng

I am back! I am back from an amazing, exhilerating, rather taxing five days in the Wianghaeng District of Thailand, where we stayed at the Pleek Vivek Meditation Center and meditated, taught English to novice monks and Shan refugees, and toured local schools. I have SO much to say, but will give you a visual preview first, then settle in to WRITE …

“Sanuk” in a profound sense of the word …

“It is a much sought after situation where one feels amused and enjoys an atmosphere of pleasantness: it is sanuk in a profound sense of the word. One need not be shy, nor to be committed or easily embarrassed …”  (Interpreting Action: Reflections on Trust, Relaxation, and Self, 65)

“The Thais are masters of relaxation, an area where westerners, in spite of, or perhaps because of their ‘confrontational intimacy,’ often fail.” (Interpreting Action: Reflections on Trust, Relaxation, and Self, 64)

I have not felt as relaxed as I do now in a very, very long time (‘confrontational intimacy’ can be exhausting, you know). This may have something to do with the fact that I’ve been drinking water and healing juices by the gallon, have received nine or so hours of massage in the last week (I may have gone overboard, but when else am I going to get the chance?) and sweat my ass off at the herbal sauna yesterday afternoon. Or maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’ve been gorging on Eed and Wee’s steamed greens and lapping up Flattery Soup? Lee and Oy, my chosen massage therapists (yes, I have two), feed my ego on a daily basis: “Oh, so beautiful! You beautiful, good eyes.” The Irish bookseller at Backstreet Books gave me The Irish Discount “because you looks Irish, you do.” I’m spoiled. Each and every day I am met with brilliant, dizzying smiles and kindness, to the extent that I can ignore the rude glances and rude lines employed by the unemployed Brits and Germans who spend their days arguing and belching in sidewalk bars that serve pretty women with a side of bangers and mash.

My gluttonous self-care routine is about to come to an end, however. Tomorrow we begin a rather rigorous routine of study and travel with Payap University’s Institute for Religion, Culture and Peace. We’ll be on a meditation retreat at the Thai-Burmese border from Tuesday to Saturday. I’ll be wearing white clothes and thinking/trying not to think about … emptiness and fullness, everything and nothing? I’m not too sure. But what I do know is that I’ve thoroughly enjoyed this spell of sanuk and would not mind if it continued. Not at all.

A kick in the ass from Zooey

It is a tiny little book, a white book with a green spine. A tiny little book on academia, ego, nervous breakdowns, family, bathtubs, smokers, Russian peasants,Christ consciousness, Jesus (not “St. Francis and Seymour and Heidi’s grandfather all wrapped up in one” [169]), Buddha, the Fat Lady, the fat truth and the intrinsic emptiness of it all … On uncomfortable wooden benches in supercomfortable cafes in Chiang Mai, sipping detox brews and avocado-mango smoothies, I ate up Franny and Zooey in two or three days. I did not want it to finish. Zooey exhausted me, he really did, but I kept reading. I wanted him to stop talking, but I loved what he was saying. Especially at the end, when he gave Franny, me and countless others a swift kick in the ass (or in the fanny, if you like):

“What’s the matter with you, buddy? Where are your brains? If you’ve had a freakish education, at least use it, use it … It’s this business of desiring, if you want to know the goddamn truth, that makes an actor in the first place. Why’re you making me tell you things you already know? Somewhere along the line-in one damn carnation or another, if you like-you not only had a hankering to be an actor or an actress but to be a good one. You’re stuck with it now. You can’t just walk out on the results of your own hankerings. Cause and effect, buddy, cause and effect. The only thing you can do now, the only religious thing you can do, is act. Act for God, if you want to-be God’s actress, if you want to. What could be prettier?” (Zooey to Franny in Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger)

This is particularly salient to a woman in professional limbo, a woman trying to sing her Fat Lady song and capture fireflies, her passions and cash she can feel good about all in one jar …

“Baby, I’ve been here before …”

“Baby, I’ve been here before/I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor …” (Cohen and Buckley)

It is so wild to be back in Chiang Mai. So wildly ordinary. I could walk these streets in my sleep, and I probably have. There seems to be a map of Chiang Mai pressed into my psyche. I wasn’t expecting everything to be quite so … recognizable and … stagnant? still? The same old white guy is hanging out on the same old corner by the laundry, leaning against his walker and looking like he could croak at any moment (too much booze, too many cigarettes and Thai women, perhaps?). The same pretty women are pouting in the same dingy bars and the same (excuse me) dick-swinging, pot-bellied, red-faced old boys are buying them drinks and scooters. Aie. I’m sorry. I’m letting myself run wild … wild with judgement and projection, that is. Something about the whole scene seems pathetic and sad to me, but that is not to say that it is. I expect that as I settle in and re-orient myself, I will drop the  simplistic explanations. There is always (always, always, always) more to a scene and situation than meets the eye. That much I’ve learned.

One of the blessings of being here a second time is that several of the locals recognize me: the sweet-faced owners of Blue Diamond, May Kadee’s, Prego and, of course, Tri Gong (new additions? a grandson with chubby arms and flyaway hair, a Scottie dog named Money, a pup named Mocha, and a fish with a huge, bulbous brain and marks that look like Chinese characters on his side). Even the retired lady boy at the sauna and steam bath recognized me. “Are you alone?” they all ask, excited and concerned. “Yes, for now,” I respond. “The students are joining me soon, though.”

Sam, I know they’re asking about you. Even I am asking about you. Walking down the back streets and past bookstores in which we lingered, past Jerusalem Falafel and courtyards where we mapped out your life, it feels strange to not have you beside me in your blue fisherman pants, talking Buddha Dharma. But I expected this. I just smile when I think of you (I am in 203 now, not 206). We had it good, that is for sure. And now, I have it good. I am happy to be here again, even if I have outgrown certain elements of it. Part of me feels guilty for being in such an easy, pacifying place, but I know I’ll get over it. I’ll get over the smug, self-congratulatory hippies and ex-pats; I’m one of them, after all.  

Actually, come to think of it, being back in Chiang Mai feels a bit like being back home. I feel at ease and ill-at-ease all at the same time. “You’re still here, doing the same old thing?” I think to myself. “Aren’t you bored? Aren’t you ready for something new?” But that speaks to me and my intrinsic impatience and restlessness, not them. That speaks to my fear of staying somewhere and “doing the same old thing.” Upon reflection, I know that I want nothing more than to feel and see the depth of continuance, the depth of “same same.” I want to develop a taste for subtlety and nuance, to stand in the same spot and notice different things. My guess is that the old white guy on the corner by the laundry is a genius in his own right. A teacher in disguise, at the very least.