So I have taught 5 classes so far. Three to the trauma counsellors and 2 to patients. I have my third patient class this afternoon. At this point I am only teaching two classes M-F and will add more next week.
The trauma counsellors class is pretty straightforward: 8-9 adults in a clean, well-ventilated room (I still sweat through my clothes…actually I sweat through them on the 5 min bike ride). We do a gentle one-hour series based on breath and gentle movement. They seem to like it. Only a few of the counsellors speak English well enough to understand me…but the stronger English speakers translate into Burmese. I have learned to say “Breathe” and “Breathing” in Burmese.
In the afternoon I teach the patients. These are clinic patients, both those with physical and mental ailments. We practice where they live and frankly it’s a bit bleak. The structure is like a long chicken coop but big and open. The first day, I taught about 15 men, women and children — and a monk. There were double that number of spectators. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. I definitely did.
Yesterday, it was a bit sadder. In the patient house, a different one this time, the people seemed sicker or maybe I just noticed more. There was also a guy there whose face and body had been ravaged by acid, which someone randomly threw on him. I found the class to be a bit sadder but the students who participated seemed to like it. I think that they are happy for the attention.
In general, I am missing the happy-go-lucky attitude that I so loved in Nong Khai. The Burmese and Karen people are trapped here, they are illegal and thus are constantly shaken down by Thai police.
I am determined to enjoy it here — and I know I will. We will create our own life and rituals. I will enjoy the work and contribute as much as I can. But taking it too seriously, taking on too much sadness will be a disaster.
