I melt into the floor. There is only oppressive heat and the hard cool tiles bring only partial relief. My students also lie on the tiles or sit in chairs next to the open windows. The heat spares no one. The river of humid air fills every corner of the classroom. The slightest breeze mercifully brings momentarily relief but only brings a promise nothing more.
Tonight as I write the memory of the day’s heat I begin to sweat. However, a cool night breeze reminds me that the mountains will soon pour forth a river of cool air and I will shiver as the river flows over me. And I will not shield myself against the cold but treasure the moment for tomorrow I will once again dissolve in the heat of the day.
The last two days I taught Shan counselors about the role of story and narrative in counseling. We reflected on ways to effectively work with individuals who are primarily from oral cultures and have suffered sever trauma. The translation from English to Shan and from Shan to English during the sessions took time and effort but somehow the challenge enhanced the learning.
This weekend I will visit Chiang Ria and will spend time in a border city Mae Sia. Later in the month my plan is to enter Burma and to stay for several days. I have been given the names of people to visit and to learn more about the Shan.
On a sad note I was given a ride from the Monastery to my home in a pickup truck full of young boys. Their laughter and sweetness were infectious. We drove through a neighborhood to pick up one of the boy’s father. The boys were excited because they were going swimming. Tragically the next day I was told that the young boy had died while swimming. In this land of Buddhism the impermanency of life is not only taught as a principle but often becomes apparent in such tragic happenings.