The Questions and I

(1)
If there is a saying that the political views and opinions of men are based upon and born out of their life experience, I will not refuse this statement. Human beings start their life with questions since birth. Looking for answers to the unanswerable questions, a man has to exit from his individual boundary and limit. Then he finds that he is not the only one; there are many others who are looking for answers to the same unanswerable questions. Searching for the answers to the sanctuary, they are streaming in the same river of questions. Some collapse and sink while others still don’t give up and continue to swim.

(2)
In my life the deepest query I asked myself was why I became a human being. The situation which leads one to question this to oneself may be funny for some people, but for me, I could not laugh.

When I was about 9 years old, my mother and father got into a fierce fight. They shouted at each other and claimed for divorce. Holding me in her arms, my mother went into tear. I was so shocked with the thought that something I had counted for granted could all be gone – “the family”. My fearful anxiety went beyond and went on to think of being apart from loved ones which is caused by death. What if my mother and father died? That was the question. Then I got tied to the thought that “I” would be gone when “I” died, and that thought made me feel myself small and like I had nowhere to lean on to or seek sanctuary. These rings of thoughts stormed me with another question to myself. “Why had I become a human being and what was the meaning of it?” I was still a kid. I could not think any farther and the questions were finally disremembered .

(3)
Later I started reading novels. There was an elderly woman in our neighborhood. She had a library of her own. She knew that I liked reading, so she let me borrow her books. Through these books, I had a chance to start viewing the world which was still alien to me. The books I read ranged a variety – from native novels to translated foreign fictions. Later when Chinese martial arts fictions became popular, they became one of my favorites. I became to like the characters who are intelligent, smart, bright, stand for justice and sacrifice for the benefit of others. Reading has always been relaxation in my life. There are times that I rebuild my strength by reading, and sometimes I think reading helps me understand more about people. That time of my life, the question rooted in my mind was, “Why are there more things to learn in the books I read outside the school materials that are not included in the school text books?”

(4)
Since the beginning of my schooling, I could say that I was good at studying. I always got the highest score in almost ever examination and stayed in the top list of the class. My parents supported me and guided my education with a greater care. I was delighted in being the brightest student in the class and receiving awards every year. Nevertheless, I had to face myself some troubled questions with my education.

When I was in eighth grade, I was selected by my school to compete the selection process to participate in a program called “Lu Ye Chun”, sponsored by the government which select the top students nationwide to participate in summer camp youth programs. This program was purposely orchestrated by the Burmese Socialist Program Party to recruit the most intelligent youths to become cadres for the party. The selection process includes different level of competition on a variety of subjects including sports. Not even one teacher had either informed or taught me about that athletic competition. Yet I tried my best. At the final level which was the regional level, I had only one student left to compete and he happened to be the son of a Colonel of the Burmese army who was the most senior in-charge of the regional administration. When the “Lu Ye Chun” results came out for that year, not my name but his name was on the list. The son of the Colonel was selected. Even though I took it as my failure, there was an unsettled questioned left in me.

At the end of that school year – the eighth grade, a new education system came into practice. Based on the final exam scores, students are divided under two subject categories: Science and Arts. Those students who get the higher scores are sent to study Science and the others with the lower scores get into Arts. So my understanding about this system was as simple as this: those who are smart, bright and intelligent study Science and those who are unintelligent study Arts. By the time I realized that it was untrue, the time was late already. And a question slipped into my mind. “How come I got it all wrong?”

(5)
My father who himself was a physician always taught me and summoned me since I was a kid to try to become a doctor. With full of joy and pride to see everyone calling my father “Saya”, I as a young boy also wanted to become a doctor. “Saya” which means “teacher” in Burmese is a way of addressing someone who is highly respected in the community. After high school, I had to choose for the major subject to enroll at the university. Having a great interest in Math and Physics, I however wanted to study engineering, so I told my parents. They rejected my plan and I got into a big dispute with them and first time in my life I run away from home. I was 17 years old. However, my mother found me and convinced me to come back home, so I went back home with her and kept aside my desire to become an engineer. What my mother said to me touched my heart and how could I refuse her. That’s how mothers in Burma basically win over their children, I guess. Listen to what she said. She said, “Only if you become a doctor, you will be able to take care of me when I am old.” As a son who loves his mother, I had to listen to her. “Who is choosing who? Am I choosing my life or my life is choosing me?” It was the question in me then.

(6)
Until the time I joined the Medical College, I had no enthusiasm and excitement to become a doctor. I was proud for being in the list of top 550 students in the whole Burma, but felt nothing more than that. All along the time of my school years in medicine, I was not a grade “A” student anymore. I had to try to catch up my badge by taking supplementary tests. To become a doctor was not a necessity for me and therefore I did not put an effort more that I had to for that matter. With friends, I would go near girl dormitories, play guitar and sing the songs till midnight. I would write poems and short stories. I studied only by the time exams were closer.

However, whenever I had to face an ailing patient, I realized the fact that a patient’s life should not be lost because of my insufficient knowledge and lack of proficiency as a doctor. I came to understand the value of becoming a doctor. So I tried and learned everything I need to know to become a doctor. However, a conflict took place in my mind when I saw some doctors who treated patients more on the purpose of earning money than based on compassion and affection for the patients. I felt choked to see that the inpatients who were poor had to buy medicine from outside while the government authorities and their well-to-do associates received extra care from the hospital senior doctors and medical staff and were treated with medicines from the hospital for free of charge. I wanted to run away when I looked at my friends at the medical school whose farmer parents owned a house without roof and who were studying medicine with profound interest while working at night as security guards.

Since the time I became to understand the value of a doctor, I only wanted to become one who care for people’s health and put priority to that. I did not want to tell patients how much for the service. I was only a patient who was studying medicine.

(7)
During my final year part (2) in medical school, student demonstrations started springing up in Rangoon due to the government cancellation of currency notes and economic hardship. The political movement was about to embark. I finished my medical school and followed my father to Moulmein where he had been posted. Then I opened a small clinic in a small town in Karen State. It was the period that I could not decide how to move on with my life as a doctor. Those times in Burma, if a recent graduate from medical school with license to practice medicine wanted to join the health services under the governmental administration, she or he would have to take another exam. Although we could accept the normal procedure to assess our proficiency, we could not take the fact that the exam was to assess our individual stance on the Burmese socialism and that only the party members can get government jobs. I simply understood this an insult to the dignity of interlectuals and it was the period I tried to stay out of that web and be on my own as much as possible.

At that time, the student demonstrations and popular protests sprang all across the country calling for democracy and human rights. And I saw the light. This light was not only the light to be freed from the military dictatorship, but also the light of hope for a youth who had no future, was lack with the chance to look for the meaning of life and could not be prepared for one’s self-dignity.

First time ever in my life I made my own decision for my life and jumped in to the revolution with absolute faith in it. Before that time, my life was easy-going – just like letting myself flow along the current. When I joined the revolution, I knew it was against the current, but I was not disappointed like before. Even though I know it will be a long way, I know my destination clearly and I was not someone who was lost. There are still questions, but I am no longer fear of these questions I will have in future because I have seen the path to find answers.

I have achieved the adulthood.

Naing Aung
12:00 PM
September 11, 2000