candles, lanterns
greet the sky
hello full moon

Happy Thadingyut Full Moon Festival! 

In any family, in any culture, exists the feeling of pressure. Whether this is from a helicopter parent who means well but is misguided to the children of dependent users who try against the odds not to follow the same path or children of immigrants who walk the line between new and old, always pleasing some, never pleasing all. Even for picture-perfect families, there are hidden pressures which people conveniently crop out of the still image. Money, health and the deceptively simple act of getting along are universal pressures so it seems to me.

Singular or plural I hear you ask. Why isn’t it mouses you may say. At 10 pm the electric has gone out and ten minutes after we descend into a natural moonlit darkness there is a squeak followed by the patter of small claws as two mice run angrily across the supporting rafter of the house. It is as if to say “we’re here! notice us!” Well, the little so and sos have certainly achieved that aim as they run past me at 4 am, barely a foot from my bed!

As I am exposed to a greater variety of workplaces, some of which are not from the charity sector, the majority of people seem to lack intrinsic motivation. There seems to be a general feeling that work is to be endured not enjoyed.

In order to achieve a goal, you must believe that the time and effort input is worth the outcome. From our experience in Myanmar, ambition is generally not valued as it threatens the social bond and group dynamic.

Our trainee has expressly been told by parents to beat knowledge into students and monks have told me that without a cane, our ideas are unlikely to work. Of course, our ideas are unusual enough with a cane, but without one; well, forget it! On this subject, I have an irreversibly bias viewpoint. I am fully aware that my bias colours my ability to empathise and to walk in their shoes. There is never a situation where I feel beating is appropriate; at school or at home. I have walked in shoes wet with sores and blood before, I don’t wish to cover another mile.

From the front row, we cheered on our main teacher trainee and his teammates. It was the quarterfinals and they were up against a team from another village.

The job of teaching as we understand it is different from many jobs that people hold in Myanmar. Jobs in villages are physically draining; before a housewife cooks for her family she must generally trek into the forest, saw down the required wood and lug it back all while avoiding standing on a poisonous viper or twisting an ankle in a crevice. Then there is the setting of the fire, the tending of the fire and the pots to be washed at the river before the oils and MSG seasons the pan.

I was the only one in my village to study English. My family and friends thought I was crazy for doing so and didn't appreciate it.