When a topic is saddled with paradoxes, how does one focus on what to write? Thus describes my time-sucking conundrum trying to write a belated post about the floods in Thailand, just as I’ve asked my students to do. In the past several weeks, there have been large-scale disaster and personal triumphs, the media has disseminated stories of both utter hopelessness and powerful innovation, my own students have demonstrated amazing motivation and unbelievable laziness, and there remain as many questions as there have been answers. Perhaps the paradoxes best tell the story after all.
40 days off? Cool! Not.
Having never before experienced a unplanned day off of school during my teaching career, the past 40 days of this strange vacation-not-a-vacation makes me truly appreciate the planned vacations even more, while recognizing how much time it really does takes to unwind from the day-to-day physical and mental responsibilities of teaching. Not that a floodcation offers either, it is a very different beast. Vacations are generally hard-earned and finite: work-hard, play hard. A floodcation teeters out of ones control on a weekly basis (will school reopen or not?) and proffers neither a sense of accomplishment nor a semi-reckless desire to let loose. It is surprisingly unsatisfying.
Learning continues, for those who need it the least.
Despite school closures, learning must go on. And so I posted assignments, and readings, and interactive websites for the students; e-mails were sent, and calendars updated. The initial responses from students was barely a trickle. More e-mails were sent, varied tasks assigned, and a few more assignments came in. The irony hit me once again after a few weeks: often, the students completing the work were the ones who probably needed the practice the least - the most diligent. The students’ whose requested parent-teacher conference had been the first flood casualty were rarely found on cyberspace. Whether or not students had been flooded or not offered no prediction in who completed the work. My favorite part: after 40 days of no school but regular posting of diverse assignments, I received a flurry of homework e-mails Saturday and Sunday as students faced the reality of coming back to school without submitting any work along the way.
“Not suffering enough to be happy.”
While exhausted and sun-burnt, bumping along in the back of a rusty, empty dump truck doubling as a Thai Red Cross relief vehicle, in the height of Friday evening Bangkok expressway traffic, unsuccessfully soliciting friendly greetings from fellow traffic-sitters in plush, colorful buses and shiny, air-conditioned cars, a fellow volunteer keenly commented about the commuting Bangkokians, “they’re not suffering enough to be happy.” At the end of a long day distributing rice, bottled water, canned food, and other necessities for flood victims in hard-hit Nonthaburi, her statement certainly rung true. Along with plenty of flood waters seen that day, I also witnessed an abundance of community spirit, joviality, appreciation, and laughter. When one loses almost every material possession owned, and the ability to get anywhere specific at a specific time is canceled out by several billion cubic meters of filthy rodent and reptile-infested water, camaraderie, humor, and gratefulness seem pretty fulfilling indeed.
Thai Flood Photos by Torie Leinbach CC BY-NC
