Leslie's Medicine

Adults coddle children here in a manner that is best described as ... foreign.

I first noticed it on a field trip with the pre-school I used to work at. The boys got to ride scooters. And whenever one of them took the tiniest of tumbles - no tears or scrapes - the parents rushed in from all sides, swarming the kid, to make sure he was okay. Ironically, none of the kids wore helmets.

At home it's the opposite: My brothers run the risk of my father's wrath should they pick up their scooters without helmets on. But my parents have never swooped in with a box of tissues before the tears even started flowing.

So it goes in Taiwan: Today (in 76-degree heat) I saw a baby swaddled up wearing a cap and mittens; in the "winter" my students come to class wearing - literally - four or five shirts; and a week ago my boss rubbed icy-hot on my student's stomach when another kid hit him. Icy hot is for muscle aches! Not fleeting discomfort!

George, one of my 7-year-old students, has missed a lot of class recently for alleged health reasons. He's missed some full days because he was at Chinese doctor appointments and he's missed some class because 20 minutes into the period he will say, "Teacher my eyes!" Then he will rub them vigorously. "I can't see!" Then he closes them so, of course, he cannot see. He also sticks his arms out when he closes his eyes, I think for emphasis, that way we really really know he can't see.

"Alright, let's go."

George is an early English learner. Because of the language barrier, behavioral and disciplinary issues are handled by my bosses. I just haul the kids out and let them deal with it.

I do believe George is in some sort of mild pain. But there is something uncanny about how he is beset by temporary blindness during English lessons.

Unfortunately, George's problem has been validated by the Chinese doctor. This is another cultural difference I struggle with here: People I would otherwise consider serious individuals put stock in what to me looks like snake-oil hooey:

Every culture has its own folksy remedies. In America it's chicken soup, so I can't hold it against James' grandma when she admonishes him for eating pineapple when he has a bug. And while doctors might say otherwise, I'm convinced vegetating on the couch through Star Wars Episodes 4, 5 and 6 is the best way to beat a cold.

However, when a kindly and well-intentioned man jams his bony elbow into James' shoulder blade because James had a fever. Well, I have a hard time taking that seriously.

Anyway, George went to the Chinese doctor. And my boss told me the Chinese doctor said it could take years of Chinese medicine for George to be cured of his eye-related fits. That sounds like a nice racket for the Chinese doctor. But it doesn't do jack for my English class. Boss and I discussed this conundrum briefly

"I think maybe George is a little sick, but maybe when he don't want to go to class he..."

"Exaggerate? I think so too."

On Wednesday class started and I rousted the kiddies from their seats for some physical activity in the back of class. George is on the pot-bellied side of things, so possibly this isn't his favorite way to begin the afternoon.

George says something to me in Chinese and then lets his jaw drop open like a broken cupboard.

"Sorry George, I don't speak Chinese."

George turned to Jill, who speaks English more fluently.

"He say he feel like he going to throw up!"

I was at a crossroads. If I was wrong I would be pretty much the meanest teacher ever, and I ran the risk of having George's stomach turned out on my classroom floor. But dammit, the kid didn't look sick.

"Look George, are you really sick? If you are sick you can leave. But I want you to be a big boy and try your best. Because if you are always leaving you are not going to learn anything. You need to try your best. I think you're going to be fine, okay?"

He probably understood a word here or there, but my tone dispelled any prayer of sympathy. George snapped his mouth shut and let out a little grunt that seemed to say, "caught."

Minutes later he was on the floor laughing and playing with the rest of the kids. Nausea? Puh-leez.