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Dear Thay, dear Sangha,
As I sat down to write, my mind went to summer 1978. I was volunteering on a cargo boat converted to a hospital ship, “L'île de Lumière/Island of Light”. Its mission was to assist Vietnamese ‘boat people’/refugees fleeing Viêt Nam. My eyes and heart opened wide that summer. I had never witnessed so much suffering. That summer was a turning point in my life.
Thich Nhat Hanh/Thay wrote the poem (scroll to bottom to read), ‘Please call me by my true names’ in 1976 help him process his feelings after receiving a letter about a 12 year old Vietnamese girl who was raped on an escaping boat by a Thai “pirate”. She then threw herself overboard to die.
Thich Nhat Hanh shares his thoughts here: Thay’s Poetry / Please Call Me by My True Names (song & poem) | Plum Village :
“When you first learn of something like that, you get angry at the pirate. You naturally take the side of the girl. As you look more deeply you will see it differently. If you take the side of the little girl, then it is easy. You only have to take a gun and shoot the pirate. But we can’t do that. In my meditation, I saw that if I had been born in the village of the pirate and raised in the same conditions as he was, I would now be the pirate. There is a great likelihood that I would become a pirate. I can’t condemn myself so easily. In my meditation, I saw that many babies are born along the Gulf of Siam, hundreds every day, and if we educators, social workers, politicians, and others do not do something about the situation, in twenty-five years a number of them will become sea pirates. That is certain. If you or I were born today in those fishing villages, we might become sea pirates in twenty-five years. If you take a gun and shoot the pirate, you shoot all of us, because all of us are to some extent responsible for this state of affairs.
After a long meditation, I wrote this poem. In it, there are three people: the twelve-year-old girl, the pirate, and me. Can we look at each other and recognize ourselves in each other? The title of the poem is “Please Call Me by My True Names,” because I have so many names. When I hear one of these names, I have to say, ‘Yes’.”
The poem includes a stanza on the boat people.The poem has many examples of apparently cruel behavior in humans and nature.Thay often said that if one grows up and lives under similar causes and conditions of violence, poverty, and hunger, many will resort to doing terrible things.
In current times, it is hard for me to understand points of view and the actions which follow that differ so diametrically from my own. I try hard to put myself into others’ shoes, to attempt to see the world from their vantage point. It helps me to soften my critical and judgmental tendencies, and to better understand what may be behind their views. If I had the same causes and conditions, would I hold so fast to my current views?
On Monday night, we will share from our hearts and from our experience.
If you find it helpful, you may wish to reflect on a few questions:
What strengthens your capacity to see yourself in others?
What helps you to open your heart to understand different points of view?
I look forward to being together with you and learning from your sharings Monday night.
Warm regards,
Mary
Please Call Me By My True Names
Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow—even today I am still arriving.
Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.
I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.
I am a mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.
I am a frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.
I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.
I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am also the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.
I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his “debt of blood” to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.
My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.
Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up
and the door of my heart
could be left open,
the door of compassion.
Malaysia did not want the refugees landing on their shores. They offered them an uninhabited island with no potable water off their coast. When I arrived, there were 45,000 refugees on the island being processed by the UN to go to a welcoming country. The hospital ship stayed six months until a temporary hospital was built on the island. At this time, it was illegal to leave Vietnam. Most paid significant sums of money to escape. Historically, poor Thai fishermen turn into ‘pirates’ when there are riches on the sea. It was known that the refugees brought any gold and valuables they could with them. Boats were not seaworthy and many sank. Women and girls were raped in high numbers. Some women jumped overboard to die out of the trauma and shame they experienced. Valuables were pillaged. More than 50% died in the dangerous passage.
The hospital ship was allowed to anchor nearby to serve as a medical referral center. Among the too many sad tales to remember, one stands out. Once the small hospital was completed, the Ile de Lumière left in search of stranded refugees. We approached a dozen refugees who were clinging to an oil platform. We transferred them to our ship and made our way to Singapore. As the only woman physician on the team, I was asked to interview and examine the women who were raped. In this case, it was not Thai fishermen who were responsible for these crimes. It was Malaysian military/policemen who raped and robbed, and left them to die at sea. Only years later did I learn they were found guilty in an international court.