11 October 2020
[Above photo: More levity.]
When I am at Kelly’s on the weekends we talk with each other and socialize with Jose and Irene. Saturday I made fetuccini with putanesca sauce, garlic bread, and carrot/garlic/vinagrette salad and we hosted a poker group, adding Connor who is keeping isolated. I find the time passes without my knowing and soon it is Monday and I haven’t written my blog post.
I think I get a bit strange being isolated in my aerie. I should be talking with friends in the US on Zoom daily but I, like others here with whom I speak, don’t do it. I never have found phone contact a satisfactory substitute for an in-person relationship. The former usually leave me with a hollow feeling, like filling up on Party Mix or Pringles.
I am leaning more and more to moving in here (Kelly’s). It is green and quiet and spacious. Kelly is great company and it is fun to exchange life lessons and swap fables. My bedroom is on the lower floor and, with the outside door open and the curtains drawn back, it is light and immersed in chlorophyll. I must fix the toilet as it needs a new gasket between the water tank and the base; each time I flush clean water from the tank gushes out onto the tiled floor and heads for the shower drain. Otherwise, it is really very appealing. I even use the room, with a comfortable chair and table next to the bed, as my studio for Zoom calls and lectures. All I am missing is my elliptical trainer, which I’ll move here soon, I think.
Hardship notes from all over: “Manila’s mayor banned the daytime use of ‘karaokes, videokes, and other sound-producing devices’ after complaints from irate parents home-schooling their children amid the pandemic.” The competing needs of adults to stay sane and let off steam vs. that of children who need to learn to read. Knowing how integral and important karaoke is in Filipino culture—-At every party I’ve attended with a contingent of Filipinos, they vanish at some point into another room and slip into karaoke.—, it seems a bit of creativity could solve the conflict. Math and social studies put to music. E=mc2 has a nice rhythm. “Spanish armada” rhymes with “advanced math is harda”? Bataan death march is tougher. I recall a pretty young woman with a baby in her arms singing a love ballad in an immense indoor mall in Cebu; she and the large crowd gathered around her were all sobbing. It was great! Kids learn better with heightened affect and the French know that non-native speakers learn lingua Franca from songs. “Sur le pont, d’Avignon….”, etc.
Watch the nuclear football. This man is becoming unhinged and will soon have little to lose, since he knows he’s headed for jail and doesn’t really give a shit about anyone else. Not for us to panic, just to be extra vigilant.
I wrote this sentence 4 days ago. My “Fake News” sources mention that there are high-level misgivings (I hope a bit stronger than that.) to Mafia Don having the nuclear option available. Given his ranting, his desperation, and his desire to distract from any focus on his job performance, creating an alternative reality, such as a “terrorist attack”, in order to give him the pretext to drop a bomb (on Iran, perhaps?) to “protect vital American interests”, is a strong possibility. Even the august, generally reserved New England Journal of Medicine has weighed in on DT’s handling of the coronavirus pandemic, saying he “took a crisis and turned it into a tragedy”.
On a lighter note, I won about $5 Saturday night and last night won $3.5 million in fake money with our online game. I’ve gotten disciplined enough that I don’t go down the rabbit hole very often, despite Kelly’s urging—“C’mon, George. He’s just bluffing. Don’t let him get away with it.”—, Kelly having folded already. I did follow along once on Saturday, only to be met with three aces; I happily had a full house and took in a few million fake $. It is fun to play competitive games, matching wits, cards, and luck with others.
I took a long walk yesterday while Kelly was off on the tennis courts. (I’d pick tennis up again, as the American club seems to be a fairly lively social place where you can exercise and then eat a croque monsieur and chat. My left shoulder, unfortunately, will not cooperate.) I went to a little storefront on Shwe Gon Daing selling NLD gear. The election in Myanmar is 5 days after our own and I wanted to get kitted out—to keep as memorabilia, not to wear. So I bought an assortment of face masks and t-shirts and caps for myself, Irene, Jose, and Kelly. The colors are a bright red with a yellow peacock (?) or phoenix (?) and often Daw Aung San Suu Kyi’s face in black. The National League for Democracy is primarily opposed by the USDP (the military party). I’d buy that gear for souvenirs, as well, but I’ve seen none for sale.
I am beginning to make a large shift here, encouraging my students to take over the Child and Adolescent Psychiatry webinar teaching we do for about 70 general psychiatrists every two weeks. It will be good for their learning. I’m happy to consult and be as involved as they wish me to be. But I can see the handwriting on the wall and I want my efforts here to outlast me and to continue to grow. That can only happen if they own it—and I loosen my grip.
I have been very unhappy with my Vivo phone. It was cheap ($250), has a great camera with 4 lenses, a battery that lasts 3 days, and lots of memory. But I was spending forever correcting spelling mistakes. I finally fiddled and fiddled and managed to activate the auto-correct spelling and get off of the Braille keyboard. I was an hour from buying an iPhone for $500. Now I am totally happy and didn’t do an impulse-buy.
It’s sunny, after two showers, so I’ll eat a bite and head for home.
A Psychiatrist in Myanmar 