7 June 2020
[Above photo: My first baking trial—-oatmeal-onion bread—with a rotisserie chicken in the background.]
NB: When my blog post appears in your email, double click the green sticker to the left of the title to see the latest edited version, including the accompanying photo.
DT’s shenanigans are more Damon Runyan, Quentin Tarantino, or Steven Segal than Shakespeare. He isn’t a tragic figure; he doesn’t have the stature. Also, tragic figures must fall from a great height; he has been in the basement bunker all along, down with his creepy crawly “friends” and associates. The quotes are to underline his incapacity to truly relate to another human being as a friend. But his reign is certainly a tragedy for our country and planet and their people.
However, despite paying a steep price with the coronavirus and ongoing police malevolence, we may emerge stronger and more purposed on equality than before. It will be a struggle, however, as there will always be wealthy people who cannot accumulate enough and need to ensure the existence of a distinct underclass with inexpensive and disenfranchised laborers. As well as fearful ordinary people.
I am previewing my friend, John Sprinson’s, new book about the contexts and consequences of poverty and racism in the US. It isn’t quite to the publisher yet so I get an early glimpse. It is timely and beautifully illustrates and analyzes the personal and institutional field tilt and devaluation of the poor and those of color in our country. It is no wonder, with all the little microaggressions (as well as macroaggressions) in their lives, that black people in the US have shorter life spans and suffer from epidemics of stress-related hypertension, diabetes, and chronic disabling diseases. May the protesters, and subsequent leaders, help to remedy this by setting new standards and regulations and modelling a new tone and consciousness.
I am increasingly aware of how the bureaucratic constipation in Nay Pyi Taw stifles incentive and innovation here, as well as consuming inordinate amounts of effort by those diligent few who persist trying to get Ministry approval for something. Like a visa. Like a position and a tiny ($200/month) salary for a (essentially volunteer) visiting faculty member committed to introducing child mental health to the country. I want the position for a sense of legitimacy, rather than simply being a “volunteer”, since my Fulbright affiliation is done. I plan to spend 8 months here and 4 months, July-October, in the US, which seems like a nice balance to me. I must expand my circle of friends here, however, and once the isolation truly lifts, I’ll put some effort into it.
“For Sama” is a beautiful, painful, and overall remarkable documentary about the siege of Aleppo, Syria in 2016, filmed by a young woman. Her husband is a physician who started and ran a hospital, amidst the bombing and gassing by the Russians and long-time dictator, Bashir al-Asaad. It is quite unbelievable. Cinema verité.
PBS Frontline has many investigative videos, both free and of high quality. “Policing the Police”, from 2016, is excellent. A New Yorker journalist imbedded himself in the Newark Police Department to try to understand its issues with racism.
On Tuesday Professor Tin Oo picked me up in his notorious rocket-mobile and we zipped north to Yankin Children’s Hospital. He overshot the turnoff from Kabah Aye Pagoda Road and, again, overshot the next turn to the hospital. When we finally arrived, three of my current students joined us and we had a warm reception by the Medical Superintendent and the head of the ICU. They offered us a small room to use for our clinic. When we noted it was too tiny, they proceeded to show us the main conference room for the 550 bed (Here they say, even on signs, “bedded”.) hospital. They are hardly using it at all at present because of corona virus and even before March it was only used 2-3 times per month. It is a large, quiet room with green felt all over the floor so the sound is absorbed and it is a bit softer for children’s play. There is plenty of area to set up several assessment stations and there is a projector, etc. for teaching. Overall, it is a significant improvement on last year’s Child Development Center. In addition to the noise and lack of confidentiality, we always felt we were intruding there. Clearly someone else must have felt it, as well, since we weren’t offered a spot for this year. We’ll continue to do 2 days of virtual clinic so the students can continue learning psychotherapy and we can continue to reach into remote villages.
One of my students, who is a long-time personal friend of the family of my 17yo patient, told me that the girl had been taken to a “doctor” by her mother. The “doctor” had used a “Quantum Resonance Magnetic Analyzer” to diagnose “very high cholesterol” and “many calcifications around her brain and heart”. In two minutes. 10 minutes of “research” on the internet revealed that these machines, costing $70-125 on Amazon, are a big scam from China, used to prey on poor, uneducated people in developing countries. The latest snake oil. The girl is very fearful in any case and this “information” has worsened her anxiety. I want to accompany her to the office and confront the man, though I know that isn’t appropriate, would be stupid, and could cause me all sorts of trouble. I’ll strategize with my students about the best course forward.
Being stimulated by the protests in the US, I proposed to my students that I would distribute a couple of good papers on racism and we could have an open discussion about it. It is rampant here, especially against the Muslims. The one Muslim in the class said it was too sensitive and she didn’t want to discuss it. She and I were chatting about something else on WhatsApp and I began to talk about it, thinking it was a private discussion. Dummy, I didn’t realize we were on our class’ site. I made a remark about the government wanting to keep the populace frightened by the Rohingya, so as to preserve the necessity of a hefty military. Of course, one of my students is in the military.
I have been scrupulously careful in two areas since I have been here: discussing politics and how I conduct myself with women. This is a very conservative country. So I feel like I was very careless and didn’t sleep well last night. This morning I realized I could delete the most potentially offensive or provocative remarks from WhatsApp and I did but I fear the damage is done. [Now I find I can only delete it from my WhatsApp.] I must keep my mind on my primary objective, always, and realize I will likely not change anyone’s mind about racial or religious prejudice here. I just think of all the children in the world and what a terrible burden, if not outright danger, that fear and hatred of The Other will present to them. As adults, we must stretch ourselves to grow beyond our parochial limitations. I look back on examples of my naiveté in the past in these areas and cringe. Facing them will make me better, I know. Maybe that’s it—personal work, not group work. Stretch myself, not others.
The image of DT holding up “a Bible”, after gassing peaceful protesters, is both chilling and ludicrous, this man who is about as far from Jesus as anyone could be. He’s not “imperfect”; he’s fatally flawed. It also looks like he’s holding it upside down, which figures.
A Psychiatrist in Myanmar 