Hans Eide (1934-2016)

Hans came to our church frequently to talk about the school.

On trips to Southeast Asia Hans Eide had witnessed the plight of children who were too poor even to attend public school in rural Cambodia. After soliciting donations from the Rotary Club in San Mateo and working tirelessly to set up the facilities, Hans opened the Cambodia Academy of Mongkol Borei in 2004.

Free of charge to its students, the Academy provides food, transportation, books, uniforms, and English-language teaching. There is a long waiting list for open slots, and its graduates are equipped to find jobs in the cities that are visited by international tourists and business people.

At his memorial service last night, friends and relatives spoke of the hard-nosed entrepreneur who bought and sold businesses and the traveler who would negotiate for an hour to pay a lower price on a $40 shirt. But I only knew Hans Eide as the driven advocate, the then-70-year-old Foster City resident who gave the rest of his life to improving the lives of hundreds of some of the poorest children in the world. R.I.P.

I Did Know Jack

Jack Burleson (1922-2013)

The last time I saw Jack he asked about the Cambodian school that the church had been supporting. He knew of the perfect candidate--a relative then living in Thailand--to teach the kids English. Although nothing came of his effort--the young lady is now teaching in the Philippines--this was a perfect example of my encounters with Jack over the years. He was always asking how to help, he was always full of ideas, and he was always trying to make connections between people.

Jack's short obituary is typical of other members of the greatest generation: World War II vet, family man, joiner of community organizations. What it doesn't capture is his perseverance in solving problems, making decisions, and not looking back. He could no longer manage his business, so he sold it. He could no longer live alone without help, so he sold his house and moved to an assisted-care facility a few months ago. His friends say that the move inspired him to start another business.

The last time I saw Jack he said that I should visit him in Redwood City. It's a great place, he said, with lots of things to do. But I didn't go to see him, now I never will, and it's my loss. R.I.P.

Charity Far From Home

In April two church members visited the school.

A few dollars can go a very long way in certain parts of the world.

Our church and some of its members on an individual basis have been paying the tuition for students at the Cambodian Academy of Mongkol Borei, a 501(c)(3) organization supported by the Rotary Club.

The $250 tuition includes:

- Transportation to and from school;
- Two uniforms, textbooks and supplies;
- Breakfast for more than 50% of [the] students;
- A nutritious lunch consisting of rice, meat, and vegetables;
- Teacher's salaries, classroom use, and payment of utilities.

The Cambodian Academy was founded in 2004 by Foster City resident Hans Eide, who was moved by the plight of families who were too poor to pay the very modest costs (by American standards) of sending their children to Cambodian public schools. The number of students enrolled is 264.

Why We Should (Hand)Write

I'm behind on my reading, which puts me in good company, albeit an ever-dwindling minority. It stands to reason that the explosion of e-reading is a phenomenon that we should welcome. The iPad and Kindle enable us to read more, read more efficiently, and read more conveniently.

However, there's a downside. By making the physical act of reading too easy, with every letter "precisely defined," the new e-readers don't stretch our brains.

The literate brain contains two distinct pathways for making sense of words, each activated in different contexts. One pathway, known as the ventral route, is direct and efficient: We see a group of letters, convert those letters into a word and then directly grasp the word's meaning. When you're reading a straightforward sentence in a clear format, you're almost certainly relying on this neural highway. As a result, the act of reading seems effortless. We don't have to think about the words on the page.

But the ventral route is not the only way to read. The brain's second reading pathway, the dorsal stream, is turned on when we have to pay conscious attention to a sentence. Perhaps we've encountered an obscure word or a patch of smudged ink. [snip]

Familiar sentences rendered on lucid e-ink screens are read quickly and effortlessly. Unusual sentences with complex clauses and odd punctuation tend to require more conscious effort, which leads to more activation in the dorsal pathway. All the extra cognitive work wakes us up; we read more slowly, but we notice more. [bold added] Psychologists call this the "levels-of-processing" effect, since sentences that require extra levels of analysis are more likely to get remembered.

Among my most treasured possessions are handwritten letters from loved ones, many of whom are long gone. Their words may be plain, but the letters are not a quick read. When I was young and in a hurry I was mildly irritated, but now I savor every curly-cue, smudge, and cross-out. Sometimes the words were indecipherable, and I had to figure out the meaning in context with the rest of the sentence. My dorsal stream was being freed up.

Below is a handwritten letter from one of the Cambodian schoolchildren whom my church supports. Slower to absorb, but much nicer than a text message, nicht wahr?