2008 Blogs

Talking to High Monks in the Snow

12/28/2008

I've never read The Odyssey, but perhaps I should for the insight it would provide to the themes in Lydia Minatoya's thoughtful memoir, Talking to High Monks in the Snow (1992). The author poignantly preserves her parents' stories of their Japanese roots, immigration, internment, and post-war life, juxtaposing them against her search for understanding of her Asian heritage and what it meant to her as an American woman in the late-twentieth century.

Minatoya's tales of teaching in Okinawa, China, and Nepal really resonate with me as I prepare to embark for five months of teaching in Southeast Asia. On page 140, she writes: "Teachers go overseas for many reasons: some for adventure, some for romance. Some go for solitude, for the opportunity to think and write." I think I'm going for a combination of reasons, several of them included in the list. Later in the book, on page 255, a friend advises her: "Life is not so frightening...What you must do is trust and risk....everything of value, begins with trust and risk!"  As the day of my departure quickly approaches, I realize how true this statement is.

I was especially struck by several stories in the book.  One involves Mr. Wei, her classroom monitor, who came to her and said he would be absent the next day (page 217-218) because he was going to sit by the side of his "venerable professor," a man dying of cancer.  Mr. Wei explained that he and ninety nine other former students of this professor, upon learning of his illness, had decided to sit by his side, in shifts, so he would not die alone.  What a lovely sentiment!  Mr. Wei said: "In our new China we have mobility and progress. We can leave the village. We can travel to the university and, after the university, we can be assigned to distant places. In our new China, students may leave their teachers and teachers may leave their students....Many people will never know the honor to sit by the bed of a beloved professor."  Mr. Wei laments the loss of tenderness in the modern world.  While I have never had a similar experience, I have remained in regular contact with several treasured former professors who are now very dear friends. What a privilege to continue learning from them, and to grow in love and appreciation for their unique contributions to my life's path. All is not lost, Mr. Wei!

I also took Minatoya's words on page 263 to heart--"Like a missionary, I was sent to light a candle deep in the wilderness. But the wilderness lit a candle deep in me." She writes of going abroad "armed with my ethical principles. Do no harm." Finding it impossible to remain impersonal, she describes herself as "disarmed by morality" and goodness, courage, generosity, wonder, simplicity, and "genuine gladness." Of course she taught her students about American language and culture, but in the process she learned a valuable lesson, that "Morality is a warm and breathing thing that dwells within the soul" (page 263).

Finally, Lydia Minatoya's mother had a delightfully insightful way of changing the saying "too bad for you" into "too sad for you." Try it sometime, and see what you think!