Getting Through

My fifth reflection.

When I worked as a teacher in China I became very familiar with the vacant, conciliatory look of someone who doesn’t understand what I am talking about.  After covering a complicated grammar point I would often ask if the class had followed my explanation; Yes Mr. Keller!, they would all cheer, even though I knew that some of them must have missed it.  I dealt with this problem like this:

First, I would yell out a summary question.  For example, “Do you understand how to use the word ‘stray?’” (‘Because of You,’ a huge crowd pleaser).

“Yes!” They would all respond.

“Really?”

“Yes,” less forcefully.

“Truly?”

And silence.

They almost always admitted to confusion by the third repeat.  It occurred to me that perhaps they didn’t know what truly meant, but I chose to believe instead that my three-tiered skepticism created a classroom atmosphere of compassion and growth in which they all felt comfortable exposing their weaknesses.  By the end of the class almost all of the students, thankfully, looked like they understood what I was talking about.

Back in Asia for a few months, I am once again becoming very familiar with the look of miscomprehension.  This time it shows up on the face of the lenders; my research includes a text message tracking component that is a little bit confusing, and often as I watch my translator explain it to the lenders I can tell that the information is not being absorbed.  Finishing with her prepared speech, my translator will ask the lenders if they understand what they are supposed to do.  Yes!, they say, and my heart breaks just a little as they proceed to screw up the program in every possible way.

It’s a frustrating position for me.  First, I don’t speak the language, so I can’t try to explain things myself.  Second, and more difficult, I don’t know how to tell the lenders they are wrong.  As a teacher, it was my job to correct my students, and I felt comfortable pointing out their errors.  As a researcher, though, I depend on the lenders for my data, and I risk embarrassing or irritating them into attrition with constant critiques.  Yesterday, for instance, I visited a lender who would consistently send her text message responses to the wrong number; I reminded her again about the proper destination for the messages, and her response was to stop sending them altogether.  I would call it a Pyrrhic victory, except that I don’t know if correcting a banana vendor about how to participate in a research program counts as a victory at all.

But at least I’m getting some research done!  Which after weeks of stomach issues, translator issues, travel issues, housing issues and general stalling, feels really good.  The pictures come from my weekend trips to Casaroro Falls and the Twin Lakes.