24 January 2021
[Above photo: Statues of monks in a temple in Chiang Mai, Thailand]
Poker is such a strange game. Sometimes a strategy and caginess in betting makes all the difference. But sometimes the luck of the draw, as in life, just flows to one person, over and over. It did last week and again last night. After some frustration, the other 4 at the table just resign themselves to losing, wondering how it keeps breaking that way, and trying to contain their losses while remaining in it, as in life.
We host a game every Saturday night, our big social event. Well, mine. Kelly spends a good bit of time at the American Club after tennis, socializing. Because my shoulder won’t allow swimming or racquet sports and because I have, until the past few months, been so busy that I enjoyed my time alone, I’ve not joined the Club. For poker we have 5 players, three are regulars and the other two vary. We like two young ex-Peace Corps vols who worked at Plan with Kelly but they both have girlfriends and we cannot compete for their attention with them, so we fill in on occasion with a rotating list of others.
Last night it was the country directors for CARE and for Save the Children, both Brits and each about as fluent in poker as we are. We always serve supper and the others learn to bring beer, wine, or dessert. The director of Save came for his first time and was a massive, somewhat embarrassed, winner. Since the stakes are low, it is all fun and there is mostly laughter. If I can play at something for 2 ½ hours with a chance of winning and only lose $6, it feels fine. I crave the feeling of tension with each hand during the betting and then the release of it when someone wins. You say someone’s sex life is not properly attended to? Really? As Freud pointed out early in his writings, tension and release are pretty ubiquitously pleasurable experiences. Highly motivating.
As has been the turnover of office in the US. The tension for 4 years created by this crude, cheesy criminal was nearly intolerable. Which made Joe’s speech and, even more, Amanda Gorman’s recitation so relieving. And you know that after the doors of the White House were finally opened, Joe didn’t reprimand or fire those who delayed by 15 seconds. The country is in rough seas but is correcting course, clawing off a lee shore toward which it was allowed to drift by he-who-isn’t-even-worth-mentioning. Let’s get support out to people who need it, listen to science, vaccinate all, and rebuild together.
A large black bird with a copper back and wings has been hopping about the yard eating insects. This week I travelled downtown to Inwa Booksellers and bought Birds of Myanmar, a small-by-birding-standards book by three Burmese. The text and illustrations are excellent. I easily found my Greater Coucal and have possibly identified another visitor as an Asian Fairy Bluebird. I’m not certain and am awaiting another view before I commit. Myanmar is loaded with wonderful birds, including a handful of different hornbills described to me by an acquaintance who saw several on a recent camping trip. Birders can often be quite militant or competitive, in my experience. I just like to observe, identify them if I can, and wonder at their beauty. I don’t keep a life-list or other nonsense. We regularly saw fabulous birds in our yard in Malawi, as well as in the numerous game parks. The park guides could see, identify, and sex a distant bird which was completely invisible to me. It’s all about pattern recognition and they must get it from an early age, growing up in the bush.
I discovered and explored a large wet market a few blocks from home yesterday on my way to retrieve a book I was having copied, a 350 page text copied and bound for about $7.50. How do they make any money? The shop was closed on Saturday, so I meandered back through the market. There were all manner of fresh fruits and vegetables, as well as sacks of rice, spices, etc. It lets me know what fruits are in season. The current winners are tiny tangerines a bit larger than a golf ball. They have a very short season and are wonderfully sweet. It is so much more fun to shop on the street than in the supermarket [as I keep saying]. The produce is always fresher and lasts longer in the fridge if street-bought
It is customary here to be told of a conference or a dinner meeting one or two days in advance. I just received an email inviting me to supper tonight at a fancy hotel with Professor Tin Oo and others. It’ll be my chance to gorge on wonderfully prepared fish and shrimp! My social calendar is quite open. The mere mention of the meal puts the lie to any pretense I have about not craving animal protein. I just have temporarily shoved that desire into an accommodating crevice in the dark recesses of my mind.
A Psychiatrist in Myanmar 