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Love: what is it? 4
07.16.04 (6:38 pm)   [edit]
My previous post on love brought quite a few comments such as "love...is selfless" and "does she love you or does she just need you?"

I agree with both these comments. I have been trying to show what I believe is often mistaken for love. I do not believe clinging and manipulation are ever love. To me love must always be a positive force. While love may involve pain and suffering, an act of love always comes from a positive motivation. I am even open to the possibility that everything that is positive is love. Perhaps we can explore this in future posts.

I would like to share a quote from Master Cheng Yen, one of my favourite Buddhist teachers: "Love is not asking from others but is giving of yourself."
 
Desire to kill
07.13.04 (7:17 pm)   [edit]
Sometimes it is necessary to acknowledge and perhaps confront our shadow. During my time in Malaysia (coming up to six months) I have been robbed on two occasions. The first time was when I left my bag unattended in what I thought was a safe place. The second was a snatch theft.

My reaction to the snatch thieves was to try to catch them, which was in fact futile. Had I done so, I think I would have had it in me to kill them. There was still so much unresolved anger from the first theft.

Occasionally I think about what I would do if confronted by another thief and I was in a position to retaliate. There is still a part of me that would kill.

I acknowledge that this is a part of me. However, in contrast to this there is also a more highly developed part of me. This part of me would have me act quite differently. If I am faced with such a situation, I hope it is the more highly developed part of me that is in control.

I feel a little sad to acknowledge this negative part of me. But what saddens me more is that nations are so often run by people for whom that baser part is in control.
 
Being a man
07.11.04 (6:55 pm)   [edit]
Why is it that in our Western society, and to a lesser extent the East too, we males feel the need to prove our masculinity?

I remember the previous time I returned home after a trip to Asia. I was visiting a kindergarten for a performance. When I got there the kids had to clean up the play area to give me a performance space. A plastic crate had been filled with wooden blocks. It would have been quite heavy. A few kids were going to carry it together. But one little boy, all of four years old, insisted that he could do it by himself. He struggled to lift it. But he had to do it. The poor little bugger. Already he felt the need to prove that he was a 'man'. It hit me all the more because in the five weeks I had spent in Thailand I had not seen that sort of behaviour, certainly not from a kid that age.

When I used to sell books to schools, the librarian would sometimes send some boys to help me unload samples from my van. They came in plastic crates that stacked. One was enough for me to carry without busting my back. Books are heavy. But so many boys had to stack a second crate to prove how strong they were—to prove they were men.

Just occasionally, a liberated librarian would send girls too. The girls never felt the need to take a second crate. Never.

This phenomenon manifests itself in many ways. Macho sports is one that comes to mind. Men conquering as many women as possible is another.

Hey guys, there is an easier way. Next time you are alone in your bedroom strip off in front of the mirror. Forget about how good your body is. That has nothing to do with it. Just check if there is a penis and testicles there and not a vagina. Size has nothing to do with it. Basically there are two genders on this earth: male and female. If you have a penis and testicles then you are male. If you have a vagina, you are female. It's as easy as that. There are no degrees of masculinity. You can't be more or less male. That's a fallacy. It is one or the other. So, do the test. Make up your mind which you are and forget it. Get on with your life. There are much more important things you can be doing than all this crazy macho shit.
 
Love: what is it? 3
07.08.04 (6:58 pm)   [edit]
Erica was one of the two great loves of my life. We had great communication and great passion. Perhaps it was the combination of both of these which led to great sex. Our thought processes are very similar which led to good understanding between us. Communication was a commitment. We always had to get to the bottom of everything. When things were going well between us the loving was something wonderful. When there was a disagreement, we sure knew how to give each other a hard time—and it must have kept the neighbours amused.

This was an on-again, off-again relationship for about four years. Usually she was the one calling it off. Eventually, I made a decision: I am not putting up with this shit anymore.

We have remained friends and the love continues. A few weeks before I was about to leave for Asia we had dinner together. She had been living in another city for a few years. She told me she had done a lot of growing and that she was now a different person. She acknowledged that she admired the way I thought and that she was thinking more like me. She acknowledged that she was the problem in the past and that she wasn't like that anymore. She was suggesting that we give it another go. I said, 'I am going to Asia.' She talked about visiting me. I said she was welcome but she wouldn't be able to handle the heat.

Two weeks later she was engaged to someone else.

That was 20 months ago. She has since broken that relationship off and become engaged again. Each time she has told me that this person is the right one and each time I have wished them well.

I give all that as an introduction because what I really want to focus on is one of the games that Erica played. I will tell the story of one example.

Erica was studying. She had gone back to high school as a mature age student. She has since got her degree and is doing great things with her life professionally. But at that time she was still doing high school. She had finished her final exams and the results were to be released in the morning newspaper which hit the newsstands at about 2 or 3 am. She is a night owl. She can happily stay up all night. I am an early to bed, early to rise person. She wanted me to come with her to collect the newspaper at 2 am. I said I could wait until six to hear the result.

"But I want you to be there to share it with me."

"Then wait and share it with me at six."

"I can't wait."

"Sorry."

"If you loved me you would want to share this moment with me."

Well, I don't understand what this has to do with love. If it was my results I would not be staying up till 2 am to get the paper. I would probably pick it up the following morning at 9 or 10. But she wanted more from me than I would give to myself.

This is just one example. Others were, "If you loved me you would ring every night." and "If you loved me you would want to live with me."

I know that Erica loved me and still does. However, while we love someone it does not mean that we always behave in a loving way. I do not consider this type of behaviour to be love. It comes from insecurity and it is a manipulative way of attempting to control the other person.
 
Friendliness
07.06.04 (6:45 pm)   [edit]
One night while having dinner in a food stall in Singapore I found myself having a conversation with another Westerner about which people were most friendly. He had travelled to more places than me but tended to stay in each place for a shorter time. I forget the actual country now but it was somewhere in South America that he said he encountered the friendliest people.

He did not particularly like Thais. I guess his attitude to them was a little cynical. He said when you meet a Thai woman they always say to you, 'How long you stay Thailand?' His interpretation of this was: however many days you stay, I multiply that by how much money I can get out of you each day. I believe he was wrong, for two reasons. Yes, this is one of the first questions that Thais ask you but it is not just women. Thai men say the same thing. Perhaps I should have asked my acquaintance why he was only meeting women. Secondly, Thais rarely understand verb tense. Thai language does not work like English. After a year in Thailand I still cannot tell you if that question means 'How long have you stayed in Thailand?' or 'How long will you stay in Thailand?'. And I don't think the Thais know, it is just a question they have been taught at school to say when you meet an English speaker. Others in that basic repertoire include "Where you going?"; "Have you eaten?"; "What you do?"; "How old you?"; "Are you married?"; "Do you have a girlfriend/boyfriend?"; "How about your family?".

I have certainly found Thai people to be very friendly. Malaysians sometimes get annoyed when I mention how friendly Thai people are. I think they want me to say they are friendly too. While they are not unfriendly, they do not go out of their way the way that Thais do. I have now made three bus trips of about two hours each way within Malaysia. Looking back to my bus trips in Thailand, I am sure that if I had travelled that distance that many times on a bus in Thailand I would have been spoken to by a few of the people who I had sat next to. It doesn't happen every time but it is quite common. But no one has ever bothered to chat to me on a bus in Malaysia. It could be said that it is up to me, I could initiate conversation, but that is not the point. My behaviour is the same in both countries. But in Thailand they talk. It does not matter if it is a man or a woman, old or young, in Thailand they are more likely to chat with you. Until I lost her address, I was still emailling a high school student who initiated a conversation by offering me a sip of her Slurpee on a one hour bus ride in north-east Thailand.

I realise this is very superficial, and I know that true friendship is something much deeper. I am simply sharing my observations.
 
Love: what is it? 2
07.03.04 (8:41 pm)   [edit]
Thank you to Miss Kendy and Present Moment for your comments in relation to the question of "what is love?" I will comment on your comments in due course. More comments are welcome.

May I say before I go any further that I am not trying to teach anyone anything. I do not consider myself to know anything. I have more questions than answers. One of the reasons I write is to find understanding—an attempt to make sense of some of the babble in my head. For about 15 years I kept a daily journal which was read by no one else. (Except for a couple of my partners who snuk a look in an attempt to understand me better.) It is nice to have an audience for my thoughts. I thank all those reading this for the opportunity to share my babble.

I think love is perhaps undefinable, although the dictionaries attempt to do so, because it is so abstract. Perhaps each of us has our own illusion about what love is. Today I would like to focus on what is often perceived as love in relationships.

Moy would ask, "Do you love me?"

I would answer "yes". And by my understanding of the word, I did. And still do.

She would say, "But do you know the difference between 'love' and 'like'?"

"Yes", I would answer. "Do you?"

The conversation got bogged down there. We did not know enough of each other's language to take it further.

But later she would say to me, "So and so says that you should be doing..."

Funny it was never what she wanted. Just what her friends thought.

After a list of all the changes that were needed to make me acceptable, I would say "It is obvious that I am not the person you want in your life. Perhaps we should call it off."

"But I love you."

"No you don't. You love what you want me to be. That is not who I want to be. I am happy with me as I am."

But then she didn't want to let go.

It has taken me many years to reach this point. To be able to say. "This is who I am. If you love me you can let me go or accept me as I am but don't try to change me."

Thirty-something years ago, when I was engaged to Stephanie, I had taken her to my hometown to meet my family. During our holiday at my parents home she saw another side of me. In the company of my siblings I behaved in a way she had never seen before. She didn't like it. After about a week she told me so and said she wanted to call it off.

I cried! "No, please! I will change! I don't want to lose you." Eventually I convinced her to accept me and that I would comply with her wishes. I also gave away my power to her. I taught her how to control me. That is what we do when we are that desperate. Desperate for "love".

When I look back on our time together. That day was a demonstration of Stephanie's love for me. She was prepared to acknowledge that I was not the person she wanted in her life. She loved me enough to let me go so that I could go on being me. Being honest to myself. Sadly, I did not have enough self-love to handle that.

Twenty-odd years later the tables were turned. I was the one saying, "Yes, I love you. But not in the way I want to love a partner. Our needs have changed. You are no longer the person I want to have in my life. I am not the person you want, otherwise you would not have been trying to change me for years. It is time for us to move on. We can each find someone more appropriate to our needs."

This time she cried. Now she was saying, "I will do anything you want." But I didn't want to change her. I loved her enough to let her go. To let her be who she was.

Now she was the one who was desparate. And now I was strong. Strong enough to walk away. Perhaps not strong enough to cope with her reaction. Not without scars anyway. Once she realised that I was not coming back she did everything in her power to hurt me. Was she acting out of love? I think not. Eventually, I think she realised this. Almost twelve years later she rang to apologise to me. Perhaps this was triggered by my moving overseas indefinitely. The apology was, in my opinion, an act of love.

For some time now Stephanie has been happily married to a man she considers to be her soulmate. If I did not love her enough to let her go she would not have found this. I wish them well. I wish them love.
 
Filth
06.30.04 (10:42 pm)   [edit]
Somehow we all think our culture has it right and that the ones that do things differently therefore have it wrong. I try to be open to variations in culture but I personally have difficulty when it comes to hygiene. Yet people survive in other cultures despite what I might perceive as a lack of hygiene.

The picture here in Asia is not all negative. In fact, some people are just damned anal retentive. Was having lunch with a group of friends the other day when a fly landed on one of my chopsticks. It was about half way down, not a part that would come in contact with food or go in my mouth. But my friend insisted that I go and wash my chopsticks so I didn't swallow any germs.

Still, there are practises here that piss me off and I am going to use this blog to get some of them off my chest. Sorry, if you're looking for something positive, come back and read Seeker's blog another day.

First of all, is the practise of cooking food in advance and leaving it in trays, perhaps all day long, in the tropical heat. What an ideal environment for bacteria to breed. And are the bacteria removed when they wash the dishes? Well, if the amount of detergent used helps then they must be—at what cost to the river system, I do not know. However dishes are almost always washed in cold water under a running tap, with no plug in the sink. (Of course I am talking about people who have a sink. Lets not assume they are universal.) These practises exist despite water shortages in some SE Asian countries. I am sure I read recently that having a shower is banned in Bangkok at the moment.

Gutters in the streets here are quite deep to cope with tropical downpours. The water runs straight into the river. The gutters are also the universal garbage bin. I notice the waitress at a local restaurant clears the table and dumps the rubbish in the gutter.

Many people here do disgusting things with mucus. I remember once in Thailand I was having lunch with some friends. It was a really hot curry. It was clearing out my sinus passages. My nose was starting to run. I took out my handkerchief and blew. I guess it was a little noisy. One of my friends looked at me and quietly said, 'Impolite.' Not so here is Malaysia. A friend invited me to lunch. He had a cold. Obviously he did not have a handkerchief. All through the meal I was entertained by the noises he made while attempting to clear the mucus inside his head. Public spitting is common here. So much so that restaurants often have signs saying "no spitting". I am told that it was not long ago when there was a spittoon under ever table. There are no more spittoons but if not told otherwise people will at times spit on the floor, table or plate. Street spitting is illegal in Singapore but it doesn't stop people. Some are quite adept at blocking one nostril with a finger and clearing the other as they walk along the street. Don't get in their way! At times I find I am admiring an attractive woman I see in the street. All my positive thoughts disappear when they spit on the footpath. It seems for many here there is a ritual each morning of cleaning out the sinus passages. It can be very noisy. My landlord does this every morning at the kitchen sink. And there is no hot water to kill any germs he spits into the sink. Somehow he does this while avoiding the dishes still sitting in the sink from the night before.

Public toilets in Thailand are not always as clean as you might be used to back home. Perhaps the floor might be wet or they may smell a little. However, they are wonderful compared to what I have encountered here in Malaysia. You might expect that the management of a shopping mall would want customers to find their visit to the mall to be a pleasant experience. For the most part the malls here are clean and bright, not unlike what you might expect to find in the West—until you need to use the toilet. First it is going to be a pay toilet. I don't mind paying a little to use the toilet if it is clean. But if you visit Malaysia, don't have such expectations. And if you need paper, that costs extra. On a visit to KL recently I was in one shopping mall and felt the need to go. I went to the foyer of the toilets. There were people sitting around, chatting. I can't imagine why they chose such a delightful place to hang out. I asked the attendant if the toilets were clean. She smiled and gave me a look that seemed to say "I don't understand English." I paid my 20 sens. The toilet was disgusting. I was busting and had a two hour bus ride ahead of me but there was no way I was going to use that. No point in asking for a refund, I am sure all I would get would be that vacant smile. I tried the next shopping mall where I found a toilet that was more or less clean. I just had to endure the strong smell of ammonia for the duration of my stay. For the sake of balance, I will add that I have found the toilets in the mall in the Petronas Twin Towers to be acceptable, free and paper is provided.

The shopping malls are however better than you might get at a bus station. Imagine you are sitting on a bus for a couple of hours, just hanging out for the bus stop. You get there and head for the loo. It has to be acceptable because this place is isolated. There are no other choices. Pay your money and in you go. My experience was that it was almost impossible to find one without shit lying around.

It is nice to know that the toilets in the Happy Days Guesthouse, where I stay, are kept clean. Unfortunately, not everyone uses them. The guesthouse is on two levels. My room is upstairs where we have showers but we have to go downstairs for the toilets. One day, an educated and supposedly cultured Chinese man asked me why I bothered to go downstairs for a pee. He suggested I use the shower. I told him I was quite happy to go downstairs. Unfortunately many Asians who stay here share his view; that it is OK to pee in the shower.

I am writing this in Malaysia, a developing country but one with a target to be a developed country by 2020. In many ways Malaysia is well on the way. It is an interesting mix of Asian traditions and modernisation. But if Malaysia is serious about modernisation, hygiene is one area that might need some attention.
 
I do not exist
06.29.04 (7:24 pm)   [edit]
Following my piece recently on "Good and evil", one response in particular showed the person had completely missed the point. The following day, while riding my bicycle up Jalan Hung Jebat I was composing a reply in my head. (How's that for mindfulness?) And somehow it came into my head—what seemed to be a complete understanding of the concept—that I do not exist. Obviously I had heard this stuff many times before. But this was different. Now I understood it. While ever I think of myself as 'I'—that is, existing as a separate entity, then I am capable of committing "evil" against others. When "I" does not exist, when I am part of the "one" or whatever you want to call it, then I am incapable of harming that "one".

I got pretty high on that for a while. In fact, I started to wonder if I was enlightened. It is my understanding that fully enlightened people think on that plane all the time. Had I become enlightened while riding my bicycle up Hung Jebat?

I was able to hang onto that state for some time. But riding home, perhaps that day or perhaps the next, I noticed that I was classifying other peoples behaviour, ie their driving behaviour as based on "I" or "the one" and I realised that it was my own "I" that felt the need to classify others. ie I was looking for evidence that I was better than others. So I am still in the mundane world with the rest of us.

It was an interesting time while I was in that particular illusion. I started asking myself what I would do with my life now because I figured that once one was enlightened there was nothing else to do. Ironically, I seriously considered becoming a monk. I say ironically because usually people become a monk to help them on the path. I figured it was time to become a monk when there was no more path.

I do not take this experience lightly. Buddhadasa (who has my highest respect) says that we do achieve little enlightenments and go in and out of the state before we reach the real thing.

I picked up one of his books recently and had not got around to reading it. It includes the text of two of his speeches: "Why were we born?" and "The danger of I". I have since read both and feel I am on the right track (assuming he was).

One of my plans is to type out books such as this and make them into pdf files that I can share with friends. I have already started on this project and now have "The Prophet" almost ready. Working on "The Prophet" this week has brought me down to earth. I have been humbled by "Say not, 'I have found the truth' but rather, 'I have found a truth' " and and also a few other passages, mainly ones also under "On Self-Knowledge".

Still, what I am finding is that my mindfulness in relation to this has remained fairly good for most of the week. When I look at some gorgeous woman and start lusting after her, a little voice comes into my head and says, "This is 'I' thinking". (I am not saying that sex has to be "I" just that that was my state at the time.) And at other times, for example, when I am preparing the aforementioned pfd files, I know that I am in the state of "oneness".
 
Love: what is it?
06.27.04 (6:40 pm)   [edit]
This question is too big to be handled in one blog. And maybe too big for one person. I have decided to ask your help. So far, I have done just a couple of things. First I have had a one person brainstorm of what I have heard as a description or definition of love. These are entered below. I may or may not agree with them.

Below that is the definition of love from World Book Dictionary 2004 edition. Below that are a few extracts from World Book Encyclopedia 2004 edition that also relate to love.

Please post your comments. What do you think love is? I know this is a subject many of you find interesting. It appears often in blogs on this site. Over the next few weeks, or as long as it takes, I will comment on what I have included below and on what you post. My 'love' posts will not appear every time, I still have other stuff to write about, but I will endeavour to add something perhaps once a week. Lets see what happens. This could be fun. Come back and be part of it.

From my brainstorm:

Love is needing the other person, not being able to live without them.

Love is wanting to get in someone's knickers. ie have sex with them.

What about 'romance', is it the same as love?

Love is wanting the best for the other person.

Giving without expecting anything in return.

Love is the opposite of fear.

God is love

Love is a state of mind. Sometimes we reach this state of mind because of the influence of a particular person, then we say we love that person. Some people are able to achieve this state of mind without needing others to inspire it.

from the dictionary:

love, noun, verb, loved, loving.
noun 1. fond or tender feeling; warm liking; affection; attachment.
Ex. He had a deep love for his parents.
2. strong or passionate affection for a person of the opposite sex.
Ex. But we loved with a love that was more than love (Edgar Allan Poe).
3. an instance of such feeling; being in love.
Ex. I suppose, the Colonel was crossed in his first love (Jonathan Swift).
4. this feeling as a subject for books or as a personified influence.
Ex. There is no love. The whole plot is political (Macaulay). I bow before thine altar, Love (Tobias Smollett).
5. strong liking.
Ex. a love of books, a love of freedom.
6. a person who is loved, especially a sweetheart.
Ex. Live with me and be my love (Christopher Marlowe). The young May moon is beaming, love (Thomas Moore).
7. (Informal.) something charming or delightful.
Ex. What a love of a bracelet! The garden is quite a love (Jane Austen).
8. the kindly feeling or benevolence of God for His creatures, or the reverent devotion due from them to God, or the kindly affection they should have for each other.
Ex. Ye have not the love of God in you (John 5:42).
9. no score for a player or side in tennis and certain other games, such as bridge.
Ex. West was the dealer at love all (Manchester Guardian Weekly).
v.t. 1. to be very fond of; hold dear.
Ex. I love my country. She loves her mother.
2. to have a lover's strong or passionate affection for; be in love with; feel love for.
Ex. And I will love thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry (Robert Burns).
3. to like very much; take great pleasure in.
Ex. He loves music. Most children love ice cream. All that hate contentions, and love quietness, and virtue, and angling (Izaak Walton).
4. to embrace affectionately.
v.i. 1. to have affection.
Ex. He can hate but cannot love.
2. to be in love; fall in love.
Ex. One that loved not wisely, but too well (Shakespeare).
expr. fall in love, to begin to love; come to feel love.
Ex. The young couple fell in love at first sight.
expr. for love,
a. for nothing; without pay.
Ex. He did the work for love.
b. for pleasure; not for money.
Ex. They played the game for love.
c. by reason of love; out of affection.
Ex. It is commonly a weak man who marries for love (Samuel Johnson).

Some extracts from the encyclopedia:

-------

have independently developed the theory that there are eight basic emotions. These emotions—which can exist at various levels of intensity—are anger, fear, joy, sadness, acceptance, disgust, surprise, and interest or curiosity. They combine to form all other emotions, just as certain basic colors produce all others.

--------

Empedocles said that a force called love causes the elements to come together as compounds, and that a force called strife causes the compounds to break up. He believed that the universe undergoes a continuous cycle from complete unification of the elements under the domination of love to complete separation of the elements under strife. The world we live in occurs between these two extreme states. Empedocles was born in the Greek city Acragas, in Sicily.

---------

Love and sex. The relationship between love and sex is complex. Love typically involves strong feelings. These feelings may exist without sexual desire or sexual expression. For example, people may love their parents, children, grandparents, friends, or even their pets. Likewise, sex may occur without feelings of love. Some couples, both married and unmarried, have sexual relations without being in love with each other. Nevertheless, the feelings of being in love with and sexually attracted to another person are frequently intertwined.
 
Rude words
06.24.04 (6:50 pm)   [edit]
When Krissy was four years old we went for a couple of weeks to house-sit for my sister. The house was in a cul-de-sac and the nearby houses were all occupied by young families. Krissy spent the day going from house to house making friends.

One afternoon I came home from work and Krissy joined me on the lounge for a chat.

"Daddy, are some words rude?" she asked.

"No," I said. "Words can't be rude."

"What about 'bum'?"*

"Well, you know what that means. You have a bum. I have a bum. Everyone has a bum. So, how could it be rude?"

"Well, someone said it was rude."

"No darling, it's not rude."

"What about 'dickie'?"

"You know what that means too. All men and boys have one. It can't be rude."

She went from one word to another like this. I reassured her that none of the words were rude. Eventually she ended up with "cunt" and "fuck".

Her mother was pregnant at the time. She knew that and we had answered her questions openly and honestly about how the baby had got into Mummy's tummy but in a way appropriate to her level of understanding.

So I said, "Well, 'fuck' is another word for 'making love'. That is how we made you and that is how we made your little brother or sister. It is a beautiful thing. No way can 'fuck' be rude."

And then I started to think!

Hang on a sec. I don't want her to get screwed up about these words but also, I don't want her shocking those adults who might not be as liberated as she is. So, I said, "What you have to be careful about is that some people think these words are rude, and maybe it is best not to say them in front of those people."

"Like Nannie?"

Right on kid. "Yep, like Nannie. Maybe it is best if you don't say those words to Nannie."

"But I can say them to you, can't I Dad?"

"You sure can."

For the next few when we would be alone together Krissy would say to me, "I can say 'fuck' to you, can't I Dad."

"Yep."

After two or three weeks, she didn't bother any more.

I am not trying to suggest that I/we were perfect parents. Far from it. We made plenty of mistakes. But I think that little conversation was one of the good things. Krissy went through her teenage rebellion like most kids but without language ever becoming an issue. (Other issues, yes, but not language.) She is now 32 and I'm pleased to say that I don't think she has any hang-ups over language.

Well, at least we can say "fuck" to each other.

*Americans would probably say "ass" or "fanny".
 
Minor wives
06.20.04 (6:35 pm)   [edit]
Different societies have different ideas about relationships. My son-in-law's father had three wives—all at once. Not really all that different to us in the West, my brother had three, but sequentially. So many of us indulge in serial monogamy these days, I guess it has become the norm.

Of course it wasn't always that way. When I was growing up one was expected to marry for life. Those who didn't go the distance were looked down on. What I was never sure of in those days were just how many people were honestly monogamous. I mean, just how many quiet affairs were there? No one spoke about it. Well, not to me at least. I was too young. Sure in books and movies there were affairs and men going to prostitutes but just how common was it really?

My observation in Thailand is that while most practise 'till death do us part' rarely is it truly monogamous. And there appears to be no idealism, among young men, as there was in my culture when I was growing up.

One evening I was having a conversation about relationships with one of my 'adopted' sons. Tan is in his mid-twenties and engaged to a very nice young lady. We were each trying to learn about the others culture. I explained to him about the evolution of relationships in the West since the sixties. I talked about monogamy and 'till death us do part' and he said, 'You mean you only ever have one woman once you are married?'

He thought that to be rather strange behaviour. In Thailand it is expected that married men will either visit prostitutes or have a minor wife or two. A minor wife is, I guess, what we would call a kept woman. Apparently the major wife turns a blind eye to this; what you don't know won't hurt you. It is usually done very discreetly. Perhaps the major wife gets jealous if it becomes too obvious but generally people seem to be accepting of the way it all works.
 
Smelly fruit
06.16.04 (7:36 pm)   [edit]
Some people love it and some hate it. Durian is a very popular fruit with Malaysians and Thais. As I walk around Penderka I often smell it and cannot see it. Sometimes there is a vendor selling it at a roadside stall but other times it is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps someone inside a building is cutting one. I don't mind, to me the smell is very pleasant.

The first challenge when you get a durian is to cut it. The skin is covered in huge spikes that will puncture your hands. And that skin is tough. You need to grip it tightly to cut it. Thick gardening gloves are a good idea.

I met a group of Western backpackers recently, when the durian season had just started. I asked if they had tried it and did they like it. The answer was 'yes' and 'no', 100% agreement for both questions. I would not say it is my favourite fruit but I do like it. The locals are surprised when they see me eating it. They do not expect Westerners to like it.

They say you shouldn't eat too much. The calorie content is exceptionally high. Not recommended for people with heart problems. It is so plentiful at the moment that it is exceptionally cheap. In fact, if you know a few locals, someone probably has a tree in their yard. I am offered some free durian almost every day.

How much do I like it? Well, if I was to live on a desert island and could choose only one fruit tree, I think I would choose mango, which is also in season right now. Yeah, mango is my favourite. And I think I would put jack-fruit (not so common) and lychees (they have a very short season) ahead of durian also. One thing is for sure, tropical fruits are delightful.
 
Peace & quiet
06.13.04 (6:46 pm)   [edit]
I do like my peace and quiet. One of the reasons I chose Happy Days Guesthouse, and continue to stay here, is that the area is generally quiet. Generally.

My room is right at the back of the place. Downstairs, at the front, is what here they call a "cafe". In Penderka, perhaps Malaysia in general, a cafe does not serve food, just drinks. Most evenings there are a few people who drop in to relax and listen to some music. If I want, I can join them. If I don't, I can go to my room and I hear very little. Those who get the rooms at the front are not so lucky.

There are only two rooms at the back of the place and the noise level depends on who is in the next room. I am the only long term resident here. Others come and go. Back when this building was an opium den both of these rooms were one. A partition has been erected and it doesn't do much for keeping the noise within one room. I am sure that when I fart the tenants in the next room hear it.

It is amazing how some people are able to go about their business and you hardly hear a sound. A couple were in the next room last night. I could hear them chatting but it was just a murmur. I certainly could not hear anything they said. I have no problem with this.

Nor do I have a problem with people who are noisy in the daytime. A family with two kids under five stayed for about six weeks. Those kids could be extremely noisy during the daytime but at night they went to bed early and slept-in late. No problem.

But some people just do not seem to be able to be quiet. The floors here are unlined timber. Some people walk softly and cannot be heard. Other times I think I have an elephant as a neighbour.

Last week there were three people sharing the room. The guy walked like an elephant but was quietly spoken. One of the women would have been good on the stage. What a loud clear voice she had. And somehow I think she liked the sound of it. She spoke English because her friend was of a different race and English was their shared language. She spoke it the way I do when I am teaching—loudly and clearly. Must have been trying to make sure her friend understood.

Fortunately most noisy people seem to stay only one night but not this group. The first night they stayed downstairs until after 4 am. When they returned to their room they were like teenagers on a sleepover. Didn't want to sleep just chat and laugh. I have no problem with that if they are somewhere else but when they are separated from me by a thin partition, I am not happy. I did not get back to sleep that morning. And at what point do you act like an arsehole and tell them to shutup?

I am usually tactful. The next evening I hung around waiting for them to show up so that we could chat and become friendly. Then when we had a good rapport it would be appropriate to quietly suggest they could keep the volume down a bit. But I was tired. I did not get a full night's sleep the night before, remember. So, I ended up going to bed before they had returned from wherever they were.

I fell asleep and within an hour was woken by their laughing and giggling. I wasn't waiting this time. I simply said, in a quiet voice, "Hey guys, just remember, there is someone trying to sleep in the next room."

You know, I think they really did try but that noisy one just could not help herself. I said no more that night but the next morning had a few quiet words with them. However I did not need it. I devised a plan.

I was thinking about getting earplugs. However, recently I bought a pair of earphones for my iBook. These were amazingly cheap—RM3.50. That's about one US dollar. Probably cost less than the earplugs. I found that when they were in my ears playing music quietly, they cut off most external noise. I have a playlist set up in iTunes that will play quiet soothing music endlessly. I went to sleep wearing those earphones and didn't hear a thing.
 
Win some...
06.10.04 (7:09 pm)   [edit]
In Malaysia I eat a lot of vegetarian food. I am not a strict vego but vegetarian food is easy to find here, there is variety and the price is reasonable. In Thailand it is not so easy to find so I eat a lot of fish and chicken. (When the chickens don't have the flu.) From time to time here, I feel the need for a little meat. I usually go to one of the restaurants in the Indian section of town and get a Tandoori chicken and garlic naan—if I can get them to understand me.

About a week ago I went to my favourite Indian restaurant and there was my friend, half way through a meal and looking very tired. My friend is a gynecologist, so for the purposes of this blog I will call him Dr G. He motioned for me to join him.

'How's things?' I asked.

'I went into the operating theatre this morning at 7.30,' he said. 'I thought the operation would take one or two hours but I didn't leave the theatre until 1.30.'

I think about the concentration that would be necessary to work on a human being like that. It must be very tiring.

His patient was a woman (obviously) of 82. She had ovarian cancer. He had advised her not to have an operation. But she said she was not ready to die yet and she wanted quality of life. So, he agreed to perform the operation.

When he opened her up the cancer was everywhere. After all that time he was not able to remove it all.

He talked about the need for doctors to be able to accept failure. He said that the ones who get good marks at university usually remain as GPs. They have difficulty accepting failure. Dr G said that he could never be a brain surgeon as the failure rate was very high. He feels the need to win a few to keep going. As a gynecologist his success rate is not too bad. Unfortunately, his patient that morning was not one of them.
 
Good and evil
06.09.04 (7:19 pm)   [edit]
I tend to not take the opportunity to watch blockbuster movies—even when the come from a book with the reputation of "Lord of the Rings". For that matter I must admit I have never read "Lord of the Rings", though I did read "The Hobbit" many years ago.

Before I left for Asia, about 18 months ago, I was visiting one of my daughters who had a DVD of "Fellowship of the Ring" so I watched it. At the time I thought that visually it was very well done but I found it hard to believe that Tolkien would have written a book with so little plot development. There was more plot in "The Hobbit" than in that movie. I watch movies for plot above anything else. I had no great desire to see the rest of the series.

A friend, whose judgement I trust, has kept insisting how wonderful the series is, so I recently obtained and watched all three on DVD—not in wide-screen glory—just on my 12" iBook.

I have to agree that it is indeed a magnificent production. I loved the sets; somehow some of those communities appeal to the romantic hippy in me. My favourite was that white fortress town on the cliff face—just beautiful.

And the storyline did start to develop once it got into "The Two Towers".

However, I wouldn't be Joe Seeker if I didn't analyse the underlying message presented. It is easy to say: forget the message, it is just entertainment, relax and enjoy it. It would be so easy to do that and that, I believe, is the danger. When we are in that state the movie speaks to our subconscious.

The story as everyone already knows is about the battle between good and evil. But what I have never heard anyone point out is that evil is presented as being an external power. We humans would really like to believe that that is how it is.

When someone commits some atrocity they are described as "inhuman". There was recently a case making the headlines here in Malaysia where a woman was charged with having abused her Indonesian maid. The newspapers showed photos of the terrible bruises and burns inflicted on this young woman. Many people were incensed and wrote letters to the newspapers, describing this behaviour as "inhuman".

My own mother cruelly abused me and all my siblings. In my generation such child abuse was common. My mother is not "inhuman", she is just one of many in her era who believed it was her duty to make her children compliant. Perhaps they thought it was the way to rid us of the evil in us. Similar cases are certainly not unknown today.

When terrorists fly planes into buildings or become suicide bombers, killing innocent people, somehow they believe they are fighting evil. Likewise, when Western soldiers commit atrocities against their prisoners, they believe they are OK and it is the prisoners who are evil.

Movies such as LOTR promote the idea that evil is something outside of us and that there is glory in fighting it. The quality of the production makes it all the more effective in getting this message across.

We are all capable of evil. Evil cannot be fought with evil. It can only be fought with love—we are all capable of that too.

Master Cheng Yen, is a Taiwanese Buddhist nun who is the head of a large charity. When there have been natural disasters in mainland China she has sent her aid workers. Some of her supporters questioned this, saying that China was Taiwan's enemy, with rockets aimed at their island. Master Cheng Yen called the Chinese "our brothers", saying if we can't help our brothers then who can we help. This is an example of fighting evil with love. Naive? Maybe, but not half as naive as thinking that sending in troops to fight a perception of evil will not generate another more evil reaction.
 
Cheap eats
06.07.04 (7:09 pm)   [edit]
It does not cost much to live here in Penderka, especially for someone like me who neither smokes nor drinks. My only expensive addiction is the computer that I write this on—and it's paid for. And maybe a new camera. Mmmm?

Food here is amazingly cheap, especially if you are happy to eat vegetarian which is readily available. In the Indian part of town there are a few restaurants to choose from they all have a similar deal—all you can eat on a banana leaf.

Take a seat and they stick a piece of banana leaf on the table in front of you. On the leaf they put a large scoop of steamed rice. They surround this with several types of vegetable dishes and pour some curry or dahl over the vegetables. There really is quite a lot but if you look like you are still hungry they are hovering ready to top it up. They will do so again and again if you are a real pig. Folding the banana leaf in half is a sign that you have had enough.

The Indians eat this with their fingers. They use only the right hand because the left is used in relation to the other end of the body. Personally I prefer a fork and spoon. (To eat, that is.)

The bill per person is RM3, unless you drink something more exciting than water. RM3 is about 80 cents in US money—and it's good food too.

Meat eaters are catered for but it will cost you an extra couple of ringgit.
 
Movie culture-shock
06.06.04 (7:34 pm)   [edit]
Going to the movies in another culture can give you culture shock.

I never went to the movies in Thailand. I can't comment about the culture there. The only English language movies that made it to Sakom Phakom were block busters and they were dubbed in Thai. Sorry, not for me.

In Singapore, when I bought my ticket I was shown a map of the theatre and told to choose my seat. Now I like that. No such thing in Penderka, you are just given your ticket. I assumed this was much the same deal as in Australia where you found your own seat—first in best dressed. It was a Coen Brothers movie and did not attract a big audience (not in Penderka—I was lucky they were even screening it) so no problem.

The next time, the movie was more popular. I got there early and chose my favourite seat. Just as the lights were about to go out someone came up and politely told me that I was in their seat. I grumbled, got up and found another. After a couple of minutes the same happened again. I had to go outside to check my seat number so I could find the right seat.

A few nights ago, some friends invited me to join them at a screening of The Day after Tomorrow. The theatre was quite full. They even had an usher. As the movie was starting, one of my friends suggested I might like to lie low in the seat. I asked why. He said so that the person behind could see. Was the theatre designed that badly, I wondered. I stayed sitting upright with my back supported properly by the seat. A few minutes into the movie, the person behind asked me if I could sit a bit lower. I did, but later I realised that this was nothing to do with the theatre design—it is just the way they like to sit in the movies here.

And the movie? Well, the visuals were excellent. I particularly enjoyed the tidal wave engulfing Manhattan. The sound was overbearing. Haven't they heard that less is more? The story was not convincing enough for me to suspend disbelief. Not recommended.
 
Labels
06.03.04 (6:38 pm)   [edit]
I think that labels are a handy way of avoiding understanding. In Thailand I was often faced with the dilemma of being asked what religion I am. On one hand I want to tell these lovely people that I identify with them, that I am a Buddhist. But the concept of Buddhist is an illusion. What I am spiritually is as far from their Buddhism as it is from Christianity. If I think they can cope, I say, "Don’t ask me for a label. Ask me questions about what I believe." Those who care (love) enough to understand will do so.

"The reason I have a problem with you is because I want something from you."*

We avoid looking at our own problem by labelling the person who we perceive as causing the problem; eg he/she is "commitment phobic". When we feel the need to label another, perhaps we should try to label our own problem. If we suffer from fear of being alone then we want something from someone else. We want that person to ease our fear. So, why should we label that person "commitment phobic"? Perhaps we should look at ourselves and label ourselves "afraid of being alone". (Which is another way of saying attached to being attached.)

*Lama Thubten Yeshe
Essence of Tibetan Buddhism
 
Buddhist office
06.01.04 (8:29 pm)   [edit]
While I am staying in Penderka, I spend a few hours of most days at a Buddhist organisation that does a bit of publishing. I go there to learn a little about Buddhism but sometimes I help out in some small way. This gives me the opportunity to observe how this office might be similar to or different from a such an office in the West.

In many ways people work much as Westerners do. But the hours are longer. In this office people usually work from 9 to 6. They often come in on the weekends too. Employers providing food is perhaps seen as normal in Asia. I remember when I was in Thailand we did some job interview role plays with Business students and one question they would ask is: "Are meals provided?"

The publishing department is run by a woman in her late thirties. Most of the others are probably in their twenties. We all sit in one open office. There is a table with chairs to one side where they have meetings. I say "they" because, as I don't speak Mandarin (except for about 4 words), I cannot be included. Mai Chung seems to run the place fairly firmly. Someone will be called over to the meeting table and there will be a discussion. I don't know what is being said but the tone and body language show that she is getting up them. When she is out they tend to relax a little. I wouldn't say anyone works really hard but when the work is there they get it done even if they have to stay back into the evening.

One of the things I like is that there are (usually young) people there who I can talk Buddhism with and they know what I am talking about. The Chinese Buddhists usually follow the Mahayana tradition but they respect and can discuss Theravada too. Rick is working in a career to keep his parents happy. Actually he has never mentioned his father, perhaps he is dead. He is basically waiting for his mother to die so that he can become a monk. He is not interested in this worldly life. But his parents were rubber tappers and they want him to be prosperous. He cannot be seen to go against their wishes until they die. We discuss it a lot. I think I am right to say he resents it but he cannot be seen to show any anger. He simply accepts his lot.
 
Crazy mother fuckers
05.27.04 (6:52 pm)   [edit]
I have been thinking about the sorts of people I attract into my life. When I look at the people in my life now, I think there is a nice balance—although, perhaps time may prove me wrong there. It has been suggested that I attract pushy women, like my mother. Yes, the mother figures are there but what has changed is the way I handle them.

I have tried hard to look at the patterns in the women I attract to me and I believe I have come up with a stronger correlation. For the sake of this exercise I have only included the women I have fucked. (Sorry if I have left anyone out but my memory is not what it used to be.) I think my case is even stronger if I think of some that I might have fucked but chose not to. Those who fit into the mother image category come to 27% of the total. Those who are at least a little bit crazy come to 73%. I know these numbers added together come to 100 but in fact they are not mutually exclusive. All of the mother image 27% are also included in the at least slightly crazy category. While the crazy group includes a paranoic and a compulsive liar, for the purposes of this research I define slightly crazy as being unable to participate in a relationship without putting shit on her partner and herself.

Anyway, the next question for me to ask myself is why? I know I am attracted to women who are slightly eccentric but can’t they be eccentric without being crazy? Looking down the list again, eccentric and crazy don’t always go together but there is a strong correlation.

When I ask myself what sort of relationship I would prefer to have now (if any)—looking down the list again, while many of the crazy ones had some wonderful qualities, next time I would prefer to choose someone like one of the non-crazy ones.

There are other questions that I ask myself: What is it in me that attracts these women? Why am I not able to see that quality in them, often until I am already involved? Are ‘normal’ women attracted to me? Will no one in their right mind fuck me? Are all women crazy? (I do not wish to imply that men are sane, however that question is beyond the scope of this research.)

Help!!! This is all too much.

PS. Do I get a PhD if I can answer all those questions?
 
Grandchildren
05.25.04 (6:52 pm)   [edit]
When I left my home country to go travelling, the hardest thing for me to come to terms with was that I was not going to be around to see my grandchildren grow up. That is still the hardest part of being here rather than there.

I was able to reconcile this issue in my mind because my children have moved to various parts of the country and I would not have regular access to my grandchildren anyway. Sure, while we are all in the same country I can easily get on the phone and have a chat but it is not the same.

The other way I reconciled it was to consider my own experience with grandparents. I had two grandparents in Australia and two in England. When I look back it is very easy to decide which grandparents I felt closer to. Not the ones in Australia. Grandma Thompson was a mean bitch. I hated her. Grandpa Thompson was OK but he died when I was still fairly young and I don't think he enjoyed little kids all that much. So, I never really got to know him.

I do not know what Grandma and Grandpa in England (as we called them) would have been like if I ever met them but reports I have heard say they were lovely. And that is how I found them too. You see, every Christmas and maybe birthday they sent each of us a book.

When I look back at Grandma and Grandpa Seeker, I have all those lovely books to remind me of them. I still had those books up until the time I left. The memory I have of Grandma Thompson is her yelling at me.

I would rather be like Grandma and Grandpa in England to my grandchildren than like the others. That is why I send books and other things to my grandchildren. That is why I send emails with pictures.

One of the things I have been learning from the Buddhist centre I visit here is to give without expecting anything in return. And that means anything. It is not easy but that is my goal.

I have three children and, at the moment, three grandchildren. I send each of my children a personal email every week, without fail. Kristina emails fairly regularly. She might be a bit forgetful but eventually she will say something like "Oh, that book you sent Sebastian is his favourite."

I know that Krissy keeps me alive in Sebastian's mind, so when I talk to him on the phone, he knows who Grandad is.

But Paul and Michelle rarely communicate. Michelle is expecting her first baby next month and I don't even know the date.

Paul's partner left him a few months back and I gather he hasn't got his shit together yet. I've tried to ring him but I can never catch him at home. When he moved house he gave me half the address. I kept asking him for the rest of the information so I could send Jason his birthday present. But I just don't hear.

In the end, a friend spoke to a friend back home who looked up the phone book and confirmed the address. So I sent the parcel.

A week later I tried to call Paul and I got a message to say the number was not connected. So, what's happening? Has he moved house? Or did he just forget to pay his phone bill?

I can live without him saying "Jason liked this" or whatever. But what I can't handle is that I am just tossing stuff into the ocean and I don't know if it is reaching its destination.

The only thing I want in return is to know that what I am sending is reaching the person I am sending it to. Unfortunately, for whatever reason this seems to be too much to ask.

I do not intend to stop sending things to my grandchildren. I believe they need me as much as I need them. I am the only living grandfather those three have.

So, what do I do? I am considering sending the presents to his ex-partner, if I can get her address. Not behind his back—an email with similar info to this has been sent to Paul. I wonder if he will respond.
 
Destiny
05.23.04 (7:04 pm)   [edit]
When I look back on my life I realise that I never know what is ahead of me. In 1984 I returned to Brisbane after 19 years of living in Sydney and around NSW. My high school held a reunion which I attended. I was surprised to find some people had settled down in the area they had grown up in. If I look at my life, at any given time I have no idea what I will be doing in ten years time. In 1975, if someone had said to me that in ten years time I would be the state manager of an international publishing company, I would have said, "Yeah?" In 1985, if someone had said that in ten years time I would be earning my living as a travelling performer, once again, "Yeah?" In 1993, if someone had said that I would spend 2003 teaching English in Thailand, the same response. This is me. I thrive on change.

When I was married, Stephanie would at times say to me, ‘Promise me you will never leave me.’ Initially I promised, because that is how I felt. In time, I had to make a choice from lying; avoiding the question; or being honest and upsetting her.

I have no idea what my destiny is, or if such a concept is perhaps an illusion. But at some level I feel that I am following my destiny. What is my destiny? I don’t know but I’m following it. I have reached a point now where I am discovering what it is on a day to day basis. People ask how long I am going to stay here. I say, ‘I don’t know.’ They ask where I am going next. I say, ‘I don’t know.’

So what happens if my destiny brings me to a woman and I fall in love? What if she says to me, "Promise me you will never leave me." There is no way I will lie and say, "I promise." That does not mean I do not want to stay with her forever. It means I cannot make a promise because I do not know where I will be, who I will be or what I will be doing in ten years time.

This is not commitment phobic. This is being honest. Never again will I say to anyone, "I will never leave you." If I ever find someone who can handle the not knowing. It is possible that I may stay with that person forever. If however the person fears that I will leave, that fear will probably cause them to behave in a way that will piss me off and guess what will happen?
 
Illusion
05.21.04 (6:33 pm)   [edit]
I want to talk about reality and illusion. Buddhism tells us that everything is an illusion. Nothing really exists. And apparently physics agrees with this. Personally, I find this rather difficult to understand on a literal basis but I have come to my own understanding.

Take a person, any person. Ask someone to describe them. Do you think two people will agree? Lets pick on me, rather than someone else. One person might look at me and see a handsome young man : ) : ). But someone else looks at me and sees an ugly old man : (. One person inspects me and declares that I am intelligent. Another that I am stupid. People who have not seen me for some time often say I have lost weight. And my weight is exactly the same as it has been for years. And do I see myself as anyone else does? The point is that I do exist. There is a body here that functions as such, so I know I exist. But as to just who that body is, who is the person inside the body - there are as many perceptions as there are people making them. Therefore the Joe Seeker that I believe in does not in fact exist, except in my imagination. The Joe Seeker that others might think they know exists only in their imagination.

Likewise everybody has their own perception of how things should be. Here I will use Moy for an example. When Moy and I found ourselves in a relationship she had an expectation that I was committed to her for ever, even before anything physical had taken place between us and we had only spoken of liking each other. That expectation also included that I would provide for her financially and take responsibility for her. She had learned that this was how relationships should be, from her culture. Her experience had not borne that out. She had been married and it did not work that way. Her friend had also been married and it had not been that way for her either but still Moy persisted with this belief that that was how relationships should be. That was her illusion.

Others in her culture may have a different version of how a relationship should be. But the point is they are all creating their own illusion. Likewise, whatever you or I think a relationship should be is purely an illusion.

I recently picked up a book in Singapore called Essence of Tibetan Buddhism by Lama Thubten Yeshe. I will go to the trouble of quoting from it at length, to show it is not just me saying this stuff.

"When I was in Spain with His Holiness*, we visited a monastery and met a Christian monk who had vowed to stay in an isolated place. His Holiness asked him a question, something like, 'How do you feel when you experience signs of happy or unhappy things coming to you?' The monk said something like, 'Happy is not necessarily happy; bad is not necessarily bad; good is not necessarily good.' I was astonished; I was very happy. 'In the world, bad is not too bad; good is not too good,' To my small understanding, that was wisdom. We should all learn from that.

"Ask yourself whether or not you can do this. Can you experience things the way this monk did or not? For me, this monk's experience was great. I don't care whether he's enlightened or not. All I care is that he had this fantastic experience. It was helpful for his life; I'm sure he was blissful. Anyway, all worldly pleasures and bad experiences are so transitory?knowing their transitory nature, their relative nature, their conventional nature, makes you free.

"The person who has some understanding of shunyata will have exactly the same experiences as that priest had. The person sees that bad and good are relative; they exist for only the conditioned mind and are not absolute qualities. The characteristic of ego is to project such fantasy notions onto yourself and others?this is the main root of problems. You then react emotionally and hold as concrete your pleasure and your pain.


"You can observe right now how your ego mind interprets yourself, how your self-image is simply a projection of your ego. You can check right now. It’s worth checking...Close your eyes and check right now. It’s a simple question, you don’t need to query the past or the future?just ask yourself right now, ‘How does my mind imagine myself?’ "

And further on:

"Let’s look at this flower from the Buddhist point of view. My attachment for the flower is a symptom. It shows that I overestimate the value of the flower. I wish to become one with the flower and never separate from it for the rest of my life. You understand now how sick I am? It is so difficult for me to let go of it. What do you think: Am I crazy? This craziness is attachment. But, non-attachment is flexible; it is a middle way, a reasonable way. Let go.

"Do you understand? The psychology of attachment is overestimation; it is an unrealistic attitude. That’s why we are suffering; and for that reason Buddhism emphasises suffering, suffering, suffering."

Still further on:

"The reason I have a problem with you is because I want something from you. If I didn’t want something from you, I wouldn’t have a problem with you. That’s why the lam’rim teaches that attachment, grasping at your own pleasure, is the source of pain and misery, and being open, concerned for other people’s pleasure, is the source of happiness, realisation and success."

*The Dalai Lama
 
Teaching in Thailand
05.19.04 (6:45 pm)   [edit]
I spent last year teaching English at a university in north-east Thailand. A recent email enquiry from a young American who planned to do something similar prompted me to review the year. Here is my advice to anyone thinking of going to Thailand to teach.

I have no regrets about my time in Sakom Phakom and look forward to returning some time, hopefully soon.

A new colleague arrived just before I left and asked me what was the best and worst of my time in SP. I was able to answer very quickly. The best was the kindness and generosity of the people. The worst was having to deal with Thai bureaucracies. Bureaucracies in general are my own personal bugbear however
it did seem that every farang I spoke to had their problems.

SP is a bit off the beaten track. It can be a little hard to reach or leave but this also means that there are few tourists. The locals find farang a bit of a novelty. There have not been enough of us Westerners there to make a bad impression, so they should treat you well.

The students will always treat you with respect because you are an ajahn. In fact despite being old enough to be their father, I preferred to socialise with students rather than colleagues. I continue to stay in touch with several of them.

I must say that most of the farang teachers (and one of the Thais) complained about the university admin in relation to contracts and pay. I did not experience such problems as I was a volunteer. If this sort of problem should arise, to keep it in perspective, bear in mind that the cost of living in Thailand is next to nothing. Also, you will be paid more than an equivalently qualified Thai teacher. (Some of them may resent this just a little.) My view is that so long as you can afford to eat and have somewhere to stay, the experience is worth it. You will have to make up your own mind.

I suggest that when you meet teachers from other institutions you cultivate the friendship. It may lead to other opportunities if you decide you like SP (or Thailand in general) but would rather work somewhere else.

If you have any confusion about visas etc you should check out www.thaivisa.com although I warn you, it may confuse you even more.
 
Unity
05.15.04 (7:32 pm)   [edit]
In Malaysia there are a couple of English language daily newspapers. I have not noticed that any are particularly critical of the government. A recent issue of the Star has some interesting articles.

On the front page, the King is calling on Muslims to unite. 'I believe the people of this country...understand and are aware of the importance of unity. As such, we should all strive to preserve and strengthen unity to bring progress to our religion, race and country.'

Further into the paper there is an article headed 'Question mark over "martyr" deaths'. It relates to the death of 113 people in a clash between Muslim rebels and the Thai police and military. Apparently the 108 Muslims killed in the clash have been buried as martyrs.

Further still into the paper are reports of alleged abuse perpetrated against Iraqi prisoners by American and British soldiers.

It is so easy to point the finger and say, 'look at what they have done.' Anyone can find fault with any other racial, religious or national group and decide 'they' are the enemy and that 'we' need to retaliate.

I would like to extend the Malaysian King's call for unity. I would like to call for unity of all human beings. Everyone of us is part of a group that has perpetrated horrendous crimes. We are all guilty. We are also part of a group that is capable of love. Surely peace must be the foremost goal for humankind. While we separate ourselves from others with names such as 'Muslim', 'Christian', 'American', 'Iraqi' etc we can never find peace. Let us be united in peace as human beings.
 

Seeker's blog


Hi, I'm Joe Seeker. Welcome to my blog.

I am young enough to remember. Old enough to have made a few mistakes. Wise enough to have learned from some of them. Curious enough to still be making them. Humble enough to admit that I still have a lot to learn.

I choose to hang out in Asia because I find that living in an unfamiliar environment increases the learning opportunities. Besides it's fun. And when you are obviously different, they are more likely to make allowances for you. (Pity we can't do that in the West.)

Currently I am in Malaysia but that could change shortly.

This blog is a record of my thoughts, experiences and reminiscences. If you enjoy, it come back again. I usually write offline and post when I get to a cyber cafe. At the moment that's about two or three times a week but that could change when I move.

Like all blogs on this site, this one is copyright.
© Joe Seeker, 2004. If you want to quote me in brief, feel free, but please acknowledge this page with its address.