The Kajing

Sleeping Buddha with Lotus Petal, 2012

On a small island in the Gulf of Siam was a school in the jungle where all the students wore plaid bottoms and sky blue tops. All of the teachers were funny and kind and above average intelligence. The children on this island were a unique mixture of Thai and Western heritage and this made them gifted beyond measure, but in a particular class of 5, the children attempted to deceive their new teacher.

Their new teacher arrived to the island one day on a dingy carrying only one bag. Inside the bag was a series of books she planned to read to her students and 36 primed canvases. The other teachers were at first skeptical of this new teacher because there were slight differences in their natives languages that prevented her from laughing at their jokes, but eventually they found common ground and two of them, at least, eventually became her greatest supporters and confidants.

When the teacher met her 5 students for the first time, she was immediately taken by their good looks, their charms and their unique abilities. There were many things the teacher could teach the students and many new things the students could teach the teacher, but the students were mischievous and they often spent their energies trying to deceive the teacher.

Because the teacher was new to the island and quite trusting (this is perhaps a euphemism for gullible) the students were able to take advantage of her for the sake of having a good laugh at the end of the day. One day the students taught their gullible teacher to say nonsensical things in their language with such united and convincing fervor, that the teacher practiced the words over and over. One of the things the students taught her to say was “Kajing” when refusing a ride from a taxi driver. They even convinced her that if she said this and simultaneously swung her hips while lifting her eyes a bit, that the natives would be delighted. Of course the teacher discovered the students were playing a trick on her and they admitted, finally, that the words were nonsense, but no one suspected the magic that lay behind the incantation of the “Kajing” especially when coupled with a slight swinging of the hips and lifting of the eyes. And no one noticed either that when the teacher said this word while lifting her eyes and swinging her hips with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, that the classroom rules noiselessly fell off the wall and blew out the window.

As the school year went, the good days outnumbered the bad and the students became proficient in mathematics, keen observers of the natural world and a little bit better readers, but not as good readers as they would have become if they didn’t enjoy the dramatic way their teacher read to them. They often begged her to read and in the name of efficiency and not to mention flattery, she often gave in. They valued her ability to delight them with her words, but they also believed her special gifts could be passed on to them simply through osmosis. But an unusual change began to unfold in the classroom after the rules disappeared; the students gradually began to speak to each other with more sarcasm and anger than previously. They also became somewhat competitive and when the teacher attempted to reference the rules posted on the wall, she discovered they were missing.

During the winter term, the art teacher gave a self-portrait as an assignment to the students. Though they were all capable students and gifted artists, they were “kikiet,” a word in their native language that means lazy, and as already mentioned, mischievous. One of the 5 students was overheard saying “let’s get teacher to do our paintings and we will just pretend they’re ours.” The others were complicit in their silence as they often were with this persuasive and rather charming student. So one day this student proposed a trade: “Teacher,” she said, “let’s all make a portrait of each other. You can make one of each of us, and we will, in turn, all draw you.” This seemed like a lovely notion to the teacher. They were beautiful to look at and she would also enjoy appraising their renditions of her. So she agreed but only if they would stay after school to work on them so as not to interfere with their most important lessons. The teacher began the sketches of her students after the school for many days. One student in particular was very difficult to draw because he consistently covered his face when it was his turn. When the sketches were finished, the teacher took them home and after much consideration decided to devote 5 of her precious 36 canvases to rendering them in oil paint. She spent many long nights on the portraits and much of her weekends. She wanted to capture not only their very best qualities, but also their imperfections because she believed it was the flaws that gave people their real beauty and uniqueness.

After many weeks, the painted portraits were finished and the teacher rolled them under her arm and walked to school. The day began as usual with the morning flag and the singing of the national song, with students arranged in rows according to year and their teacher behind them, but on this particular day, the teacher stood in the year 7 line alone. Each and every one of her students was missing. Perhaps they were late, perhaps they were involved in an activity she had not been informed of, perhaps they were sick or perhaps the teacher had blinked her ears at precisely the moment when it had been explained to her that her students would not be there. She spent the day arranging the room, preparing lessons, and getting to know the kitchen staff. She left the paintings at school. The next day was the same…all of her students were missing and not a word about their whereabouts. By the third day, the teacher missed her students so much that she unrolled the canvases and laid them on their desks so she could look at their faces and remember their laughter and cleverness. When she had laid out the last canvas, she looked to the spot on the wall where the rules once existed and curiously incanted the nonsensical “kajing” thinking that recalling the way they all once laughed at this foolishness would cheer her up.

Then a very strange thing happened. In the place where the classroom rules once hung appeared a new sign, a note actually, that read, “I am the Kajing. If you can paint into the canvases of each student the item that gives them the most delight, I will give your students back to you, but you must leave the paintings for me.” The teacher was overtaken with inspiration and a sense of duty and began to work immediately on the paintings. With great care she painted into the recently dried canvases the following 5 items in fresh oil paint (one for each canvas) a fishing rod, a mirror, a cuddly, a teddy bear, and a parrot named Lady and placed each item into the painted hands of the student to whom it meant the most. She worked all evening on the paintings, placed them back on the students’ desks and near dusk turned off the lights in their classroom and walked home. Before climbing into to bed, she lifted her eyes, swing her hips and yelled a “kajing” that echoed deep into the jungle.

The next day when the teacher returned to school, she stood in line for flag behind her 5 students smiling to herself inside. When they opened the door to the classroom, the paintings hung in a neat line next to the shelf and the classroom rules had been returned. The students opened their science books and began a new chapter that opened with a few words by Albert Einstein: “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science.”