A Good Man is Hard to Find

                Integrity is a massive issue in our context. For others in our “line of work,” they face sanctions against what they believe or are allowed to say or express. For us the challenge is not so much having the right to say something but being allowed the right to mean it. As teachers we are constantly battling in the classroom, not for pure grammarians or for eloquent speakers, but for honest young men and women. They have grown up in an environment that has trained them to believe that the ends justify the means—any means.

                Without getting too explicit, let me just say that this problem runs deep within the fibers of this culture and, in a truer sense, deep within the nature of mankind. It is a problem that exists in our own culture. But where we have the enforcement of discipline at a higher level in the West, here the “right” thing to do is often avoided out of the mere convenience that doing the “wrong” thing will not necessarily merit a consequence.

                This is an issue that causes teachers’ blood to boil. It is a frustration that never ceases to unnerve and cause a great deal of angst within us. For our part, we are constantly trying to remember grace, patience, and kindness all the while trying to teach these young people the importance of simply telling the truth. I have asked the Helper for this again and again. I still ask for it. I ask that you all ask for it.

                Okay, so now the good news. This week I saw the Good Teacher—who possesses all wisdom and teaches the humble his ways and leads us to repentance—answer this request. Here’s what happened.

                Last week we moved into our new house, an old-style concrete building connected with around five other separate units. We have people literally all around us—above, below, to the right, and to the left, just a wall away. A couple of days ago, I met with the landlord and asked him when he needed us to sign the formal contract for renting the house. After telling me the time, I asked a young Khmer friend, a law student at RULE, to come help with the translation. The next morning we had the meeting with the landlady and the officer from the local municipality. The landlady’s extended family also sat in the meeting, in good Asia-communal style.

                Then the landlady dropped a bomb on me. Before the officer arrived, she asked my student friend to have me say that the rent amount that we were paying was lower than it really was. It took a few go-arounds to be certain that this was the message. Basically, the lower the rent you charge someone, the lower the tax fee will be when the authorities come to collect. When I was sure that I understood what the landlady wanted from me, I frowned at the student and said, “That’s called lying.” The young man looked puzzled for a moment before smacking his head (a fairly common practice here) and exclaiming, “Oh!”

                We entered the meeting and I was quite uncertain if we were about to be honest or dishonest. Once the meeting commenced, four Khmer people were rattling off back and forth, having me sign here or there when needed. I was truly nervous that my student was not going to come through. Then something incredible happened. I’ll give you the translated version.

                The official asked, very cordially at this point, what the rent was that we were paying. The landlady nodded and smiled and told her a very low number. Then my student piped up and said, “No, actually, that is not correct. The rent is higher.”

                A look of astonishment came across both the faces of the landlady and the official, as if both were saying, “Huh? You mean you’re going to tell the truth?”
                My student proceeded to tell them that, according to what we believed, lying was wrong, and we wanted—wanted—to be honest, no matter what it cost us. Then another amazing thing happened. The landlady and the official nodded in agreement and went on to say how impressed they were at his honesty!

                The student and I had a long chat afterwards about the importance of integrity, especially in a culture where cutting corners not only often goes unpunished, but where getting away with something earns you respect for being “clever.” I challenged this young man—a young believer who wants to be a lawyer in this country—to remember that, before pleasing himself or “honoring” his cultural habits, his first duty, calling, and joy was to honor his Father.

                Things can change in this place. They will change. I believe the King wants it and has purposed it. I believe he will accomplish it through young men of character like my student friend. Continue to ask with us that this happens.

-Ryan