I’m back, with thanks to Kuching

Well, Kuching was an experience that I wanted to repeat, and I did.

My first visit, in May of 2004, was a bit short of cash, experience, contacts, and about a zillion other things that make nearly five weeks in a place tolerable. Trust me, cash helps. Having people to talk to, without having to decipher or parse every single sentence for meaning, is a great relief. And, having people to answer questions (of which I have hundreds), help me to understand just a little bit more than I otherwise would.

This entry is really to thank all those people in Kuching, Sarawak, who made my time there more than bearable, actually enjoyable. I think it would be presumptuous of me to give their names here, without their direct consent, and so I’ll grant them recognition in other ways.

To my first ‘civilian’ contact upon exiting the brand new Kuching airport, thank you very much. Your hospitality was totally unexpected, a great relief, and a reminder for all of us (I hope) that ’strangers’ are far less dangerous than many would suppose. That time spent on a Friday was great, I’m still glad I went, and I’m still glad I begged off for the second event. Age brings discretion. The laksa was wonderful, but I prefer the kolo mee at Kapit Cafe.

One of my hosts in Kuching is a restraunteur, newly minted, and one who deserves all the respect and support one can give. Again, your hospitality and congeniality, went far beyond that which any ‘tourist’ can ever expect, and probably beyond that which most ‘guests’ actually experience in their host’s home. I can only ask one thing; could you please pass my regards and appreciation on to your neighbours – who, like yourself, went out of their way to provide me with nutritional sustenance, and social contact.

I’ll thank you again for the ‘kari,’ which was delicious, and ensure that you get a picture of the t-shirt in Vancouver!

There were two women, without whom my trip would have been unimaginably different. One, who wrangles words for a living, introduced me to the very best single experience of the trip. On Thursday. And took some great photos, but egads, my youthful svelte (ho ho ho) figure is slipping away. The other, also in her own way a wordsmith, introduced my to the Indonesian border (with help from a friend of hers), conversations about a vast array of topics, and filled me in on ‘bird’s nest’ realities in Sarawak.

To one, thanks very, very, much for the little packet of photos. I’m still very touched. To the other, I’ll make sure there are photos of the travel bag in Vancouver!

These are some of the people I have names for, and whom I can thank by e-mail. There are many however that I cannot thank so easily.

Bing! And all of Bing!’s staff deserve an immense amount of credit for the overall success of my time in Kuching. I spent dozens of hours writing, thinking, recovering in Bing!, a coffee bar that does incredible justice to the owners, and their staff. I can’t thank the staff enough for their positive attitude, their genuine interest in what I was doing, and for a few the opportunity to have thanked them in person. For the rest of the staff, my very best wishes to each of you, during your time at Bing!, and wherever (or whatever) you choose to go on to in the future.

The staff at the Hua Kuok Hotel. A low-cost, locally-focused place, tucked out of the way on Ban Hock Rd, the staff were unfailingly polite, helpful, courteous, professional. And actually made me feel welcome, a situation not always realized in the hospitality industry. I have no idea if anyone at the hotel even has e-mail at home, so if anyone in Kuching cares to forward this information I’d be grateful.

And there are un-named, un-recognized, others that made the trip great. The guys sitting outside of endless shops on Padungan, happy to say ‘hello,’ even if that is as far as their English went. The people in the ‘bun’ shop on Padungan (a few doors east of Lorong 11) who appreciated my love of their ‘red bean bun,’ dressed in green. Damn they were good. The guy who cooks kolo mee at the Kapit Cafe. Even if the cafe servers made me feel ever so slightly unwelcome with their service…

The barber down by the Brooke Shipyards, the ’spice guy,’ Mogen, just up the road. Madame Han at ‘Black Bean’ coffee. The old lady selling slices of fruit outside the temple, who was always happy to see me, and always gave excellent value. The fellow at Cyber City – more than once opened the doors early, because I was sitting outside.

Undoubtedly there are dozens of other small characters in this play, some I will recall, and regret not having mentioned here.

I’d also like to thank the vast majority of taxi drivers – who gave excellent service, didn’t gouge (even when the meter wasn’t turned on, actually I never once had a ride when the meter ‘was’ turned on), and were helpful and courteous. There was one driver who exercised one of the oldest ‘taxi’ scams in the book – the ‘I’m terribly sorry, but I haven’t change’ trip. But, rather than get into a fit, I just let him know that I knew it was a scam, and paid. Twenty years from now, who cares.

These people, each and every one, reflect some portion of the fabric of their city. And now, having invovled me in the warp and weft of their daily lives, have built me into their city – as they are now a part of the city I live in.

To all of you, a gracious ‘thank you.’

Humanities 101, again

For 'regular' readers this will seem like an issue re-hashed. However, I have a real interest in the success not only of the Humanities 101 program at the Unviversity of British Columbia, but in fostering an awareness of, and appreciation for the very real benefits of this, and similar, programs.

I was asked by a freelance writer if I would answer three questions. Those questions appear here as the lead in each section. As ever I am pleased to get feedback, appreciative of constructive critique, and right now I'm sitting in an internet cafe in Kuching, Sarawak, with things I'd rather be doing than answering these questions. But, there are things you just have to do…

Here goes; trust me the skills people can acquire and hone in Hum 101 will serve them well, whatever neighbourhood they are in, even in the wilds of Kuching, Sarawak. And, at internet rates here this might cost you a coffee, at Starbucks!

1. what does a liberal arts education mean to somebody living in a
neighbourhood like the dtes?

In the original article in Harper's (check apostrophe) Earl Shorris commented on what he termed 'the surround of poverty,' the forces that act against the individual who tries to engage in any capacity other than mere survival, which in themselves can be frightfully busy-making. A woman gets a welfare cheque, the vainglorious sum of $515 (fact-check this), on which she is expected to survive for a month. Take the 'rent' portion out, lets say $325, and you are left with $190. A little over $3 a day, Canadian dollars, when we talk of world-wide poverty in terms of US $1/day… The need to confront a culture that denies the individual's dignity, that belittles, dehumanizes, and denies is faced daily by those trying to exist (legally) within the 'social services network.'

Humanities 101 means that woman might realize she can reason her way out of a given predicament. She learns to read critically throughout the year-long course; then goes and re-reads some piece of bureaucratic spam. Her skills and effort are rewarded in the realization that she can fight back. She understands that the double-speak is meant to exclude, rather than to inform, and she challenges that intention.

The reading, critical thinking, and observational skills taught in a liberal arts degree allow this woman a freedom beyond that which her apparent cultural capital would suggest, not only to her but to those around her. Think of it as guerrilla thinking.

2. is there a value in hum 101 even if it doesn't mean the student does not
go on to get a degree?

Let's unpack the question. As presented, the question suggests that it is the degree that matters, rather than the intellectual processes that should, properly, inform the degree.

I think in this case, that it is process rather than product, that is important.

A woman, learning to read at 50 odd years of age, made it through Humanities 101 a couple of years ago. Brought tears to me eyes, as well as many in the room when she stepped up to receive her diploma. When I ran into her a couple months ago she said that Humanities 101 was the defining moment in her life. That is a very strong recommendation.

Would that person be better served by going on to earn a degree? Maybe. But I have my doubts. It was the courage to step up to Hum 101, to engage with the program, to walk in to a room full of strangers and bare your soul to their examination, and finally to walk across the floor to their acclaim that seriously changed that person's life.

Could a Humanities 101 grad get a degree? Yes. But only if they can confront the 'surround of force' that poverty, illness, social exclusion and self-doubt impose. And for those that attempt it the degree is a different project. But it is a project that, arguably, was only conceivable after the challenges of Hum 101 were met. And for that alone, for the fact that Hum 101 offers the potential for change, it is worth every second, of every day, for most of its participants.

3. what has hum 101 meant to you?

Virtually everything. How is that for an opening answer? Hum 101 allowed me to open doors I would not have otherwise attempted. It helped answer the 'am I smart enough?' question. It allowed me a space wherein I realized that the argument was what must be faced, not the person presenting the argument – and that includes me.

It allowed me to face people half my age, with social capital I could never match, in intellectual circumstances previously unimagined. I learned, or allowed myself to realize, that 'they' were not the enemy. But rather that, to abuse a Marxist phrase, I had been sentenced by my own 'false consciousness,' one that attempted to force an unbelievably narrow world view into explaining what I saw, what I felt, what I believed.

I go to the graduation of every single year of Hum 101 because I have a debt, a moral obligation, to the program. Not for what it 'did' for me, but for what it allowed me to accomplish on my own. I go because I want to see those people who most benefit from the experience that will allow them to confront the 'surround of force' that afflicts them.

The year I graduated, 2004, I had the privilege of giving the 'commencement address' to the graduating class. I told them then, and believe to this day, that getting through Hum 101 was a far greater achievement that actually getting my undergrad degree, and for that matter my Masters (still on its way…)

And, hey, I now know why I write directly to the blog rather than trying to cut and paste…

Hope that answers the questions, You can quote at will, according to fair use provisions, but the author retains copyright to the material, and that moral right is hereby exerted.