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Thomas L. Chiu FROM THE COUCH TO THE JUNGLE
Contents
About the Author Photos Order the Book
Selected Bibliography Postscript Chapter 8 Chapter 7 Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1 Dear Reader

Chapter 5
University of Vermont, Burlington (1970-71)


I followed through at the University of Vermont (UV) and, shortly thereafter, received an offer. My duties were to include part academics and part inpatient psychiatric service at the Medical Center. I did not have a license to practice in Vermont, but that did not cause me any problem. In response to the offer, I wrote the following letter, dated April 28th, 1969, to Dr. Huessy:

Dear Dr. Huessy: Thank you very much for offering me the appointment in your department. I shall be grateful to you if you would institute the proceedings of the appointment. Our research operations [in Sarawak] will continue until the latter part of the year. I suppose I could take up the new post early in January 1970. I am planning to secure an immigrant visa to U.S.A. It will be of great help if you could kindly advise me on this matter. Sincerely Yours, Thomas L. Chiu.

On June 10th, 1969, I formally accepted my appointment, writing to Dr. Huessy, "I am happy to accept the position of Assistant Professor in the Department of Psychiatry at the University of Vermont College of Medicine." I also sent him another mailing on that date that included the forms and documents he asked for, accompanied by a note: "Enclosed are the petition forms you sent me which I have now completed. In addition please find documents duly certified as true copy of the original by the American Consul here in Kuching. I am grateful to you for your assistance with the Immigration Department." The forms had names like Form 1-140, Form ES-575, "Declaration of Intent to Become a United States Citizen." I also enclosed letters of recommendation, references, and a professional resume. Little did I know at that point the bureaucratic nightmare that was to follow, in order for me to be allowed into the United States to practice medicine.

On June 13, I received another mailing from Dr. Huessy that included a letter from Senator George D. Aiken, dated June 9, 1969, that pertained to me. It said that I should make application to the United States Consulate, if I had not already done so. It also said that he (Senator Aiken) "asked the Department of State to cable the American Consulate in Kuching, Malaysia, for a report on the status of his [my] application for a permanent visa." He said he assumed I had made application to the Consulate and, if I had not, suggested that Dr. Huessy may want to advise me to do so, "as the Consulate will be expecting him and they have no way of knowing his address otherwise." The letter ended with Senator Aiken saying, referring to me, "Until I have a report and know what is actually involved, I cannot tell how long it may take before he can expect a visa. As soon as I have any information, I will let you know."

Dr. Huessy reinforced his desire to have me on staff, as he concluded his letter with a positive sentiment. "We all hope your application for a permanent visa can be processed as soon as possible, as we are looking forward to having you become a member of our department."

A week later, on June 20, I received another letter from Dr. Huessy in Kuching, Sarawak, in response to a letter I had sent. It said:

Dear Dr. Chiu: Thank you for your letter of acceptance. We are most happy that you have decided to join our Department here, and look forward to working with you. Your petition forms and certified documents, which you have sent us, have been sent on to the Immigration and Naturalization Service, and we hope you will be hearing from them soon! Also enclosed, are Officers Data Forms Ñ to be filled out in duplicate-and returned to us as soon as possible, in order that we may process your appointment through the necessary channels. Form A03-1 should be completed on both sides, while Form A02-1 should be completed on one side only. With all best regards.

My ordeal involving paperwork and forms was proceeding decently enough, but the bureaucratic process was still not complete. One of the "missing links" was indicated in a letter regarding me that was sent to Dr. Huessy from Senator Aiken's office. Dated July 1, 1969, it read:

The American Embassy in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, states that Dr. Chiu has not yet returned the required DSP 70 biographical data form. In the meantime, a visa number requested for him had to be used. Until the required documentation has been returned, there is nothing more that can be done and the State Department has suggested you may want to contact Dr. Chiu concerning this. Sincerely yours, Charles G. Weaver.

Along with all the paperwork and concerns that consumed my consciousness, I had also been working out the ideas for a paper on Latah, of which H.B.M. Murphy was aware. He wrote a letter to me in Kuching, dated September 26, 1969, to give me his thoughts about my work on this topic, along with other information of importance. It began, "Dear Dr. Chiu, I am fascinated and enthusiastic about your latah paper. I think you are closer to grasping the essence of this condition than anyone else, and your materials, particularly the case histories, are most valuable."

Dr. Murphy then went on to offer suggestions on how I could improve the paper, and how I might write it up so that it would have the best chance of getting published. One of his suggestions, for example, involved the sexual content of the dreams of the Iban and Malays. He said:

It would help if you could say a little here about the frequency with which the sexual dreams occur in other people. The Western reader is unused to hearing of dreams with such crude sexual content and expects them only when there is gross pathology. However, the Malays have many legends which are just as crude. Further regarding these sexual dreams, it would be interesting to hear what an intelligent Malay informant would say about the tendency for the sexual organs to have no body to which they are attached.

While the bureaucratic matters for my return to the States and UV were being worked out, I went from Sarawak to the Philippines for a break, to visit with relatives in Manila. While waiting for the papers that would allow me to be a permanent resident in the U. S, I received the following letter, dated January 19, 1970, from Dr. Huessy:

Dear Dr. Chiu: In late October we received notification from the Immigration and Naturalization Service that our petition for your visa was approved and forwarded to the Consulate at Kuala Lumpur. I am wondering if you have heard anything concerning the issuance of your visa and if you can give us any idea as to when you might begin your appointment with us.

Obtaining the papers I needed proved to be relatively easy, because officials at UV applied for me to the office of Senator Aiken, saying, in essence, "We want Dr. Thomas L. Chiu." Dr. Huessy wrote to me, February 9, 1970, saying: "In answer to your letter, we have contacted Senator Aiken's office who is cabling the embassy in Manila. We will do everything we can to get speedy action."

Almost a month later, on March 6, I received a letter from Dr. Huessy's secretary, Mrs. Mary Lacasse, in Sampaloc, Manila, which read:

Dear Dr. Chiu: We were informed by Senator Aiken's office that the Embassy in Manila requested you to obtain a police clearance from Chicago and Boston and that these must be received before a visa can be issued to you. We have contacted the Boston Police Department and requested them to send such a clearance to the Embassy in Manila. The Chicago Police Department requires an application form which I have enclosed since we do not have all the information requested. Would you please complete the form and mail it in the enclosed envelope. There is a fee of $1.00 for which I have enclosed a check; this should accompany the application form. Chicago will then send the certificate directly to you, and you will have to present it to the Embassy, So that we will know that everything is in order, would you please inform us when you receive the certificate from Chicago. Thank you very much.

As if it were not enough that I was hounded by an endless stream of bureaucratic forms, the U. S. Government demanded that my father fill out a form that validated my birth-as I had no birth certificate-which I needed to be able to enter the United States! And so a few days later, in Manila, on March 13, 1970, my father completed an affidavit, which he signed before a notary public, that said, in part:

I, CHIU KUI LIM, of legal age, Chinese, widower, after having been sworn in accordance with law, hereby depose and say:
1. That I was legally married to one ANNA LEE, now deceased, in Shanghai,China, with such marriage blessed with children;
2. That one of said children is CHIU TONG PING, holder of AGR No. A-87540 issued at Manila on July 21, 1950 and ICR No. 87652 likewise issued at Manila on December 20, 1951, with alias THOMAS L. CHIU, who was born to us on February 18, 1935, at Kulangsu [now officially named "Gulangyu"], China;
3. That the fact of live birth of said child could not have been registered with the proper authorities in the said place and granting that it was registered, the same could not be secured or a copy of the name could not be secured as the place is within the mainland of China; hence, the absence of a birth certificate of said child;
4. That I am executing this affidavit to attest to the true fact of birth of our son, CHIU TONG PING, alias THOMAS L. CHIU, having been born to us on February 18, 1935 at Kulangsu, China; for the purpose of establishing the record of birth of the said child and in order to support his application for a visa to the United States of America, and for any and all legal purposes."


Finally, the correspondence and bureaucracy were complete, with the following letter to Dr. Huessy, dated March 29. It said:

Dear Dr. Huessy: Thank you very much for all your assistance. Enclosed please find the money order and stamps which I had no occasion to use because a colleague expedited the police clearance of Chicago for me. You may like to know that everything seems to be in order now. I had my formal interview on the 25th and was issued a visa subsequently. Other matters pertain to local travel papers which I anticipate no great problems. I am thinking of departing from here in about three weeks with stopovers in Honolulu, Chicago, and Guelph, Ontario. Sometimes during the second or third week of May I should be able to reach Burlington. Kindly let me know whether all this is expedient for you. With Best Wishes. Sincerely yours, Thomas L. Chiu.

Working at the University of Vermont Medical Center
When I finally arrived at the UV Medical Center, in May, 1970, I mainly saw inpatients, who stayed longterm. The patient population was basically Caucasian, including some French Canadians, but their diagnoses varied considerably. I also lectured a few times and taught medical students.

My early impressions of how I felt working at UV, and about the institution itself, were captured in a letter I wrote to H. B. M. Murphy at the Social Science Research Institute, University of Hawaii, on May 15, 1970. It said:

Dear Dr. Murphy: This is my first week here and I must say I am still in the period of adjustment. There is a peculiar charm in Vermont which delights me exceedingly. . . . My tasks at the moment are not defined as yet. I shall propose to start some kind of an alcohol clinic, patterned after that of Massachusetts General Hospital. I am not sure of course how receptive the people of the Department will be. . . . Meanwhile I have been gathering more bibliography on latah. The library here I find lacks many old editions of books and journals. . . .Would it be possible for you to send me a copy of each of the following [books and articles listed].

I also expressed concern, in that letter, about the data from the Sarawak study, which was being analyzed for us by Professor John Tong, the principle Psychologist on the project, who was at the University of Guelph, in Ontario, Canada. I wrote: "You may like to know that the punched cards have been computerized and Dr. Tong is working with two undergraduate students on the data now. He expects some preliminary results in a few weeks time." I signed the letter, "Sincerely, Thomas L. Chiu, M.D., Assistant Professor," using my new title at UV.

At the Medical Center, perhaps what impressed me most was the vigilance and remarkable determination of a female Psychiatric Social Worker in bringing about the disposition and discharge planning on the very day of a patient's admission to the unit, through interviewing the patient and his or her family or interested parties. Everyone on the staff admired her professionalism, though she was not aware of this. It was as we were viewing her activities through a one-way mirror.

While at UV, almost all of my activities involved working with patients, and little unusual happened outside of this treatment nexus. Perhaps the most upsetting anomaly that happened to me was being named in a lawsuit. The plaintiff was not personally suing me but, rather, the hospital and all the staff in the unit. It resulted from a patient jumping out of a window, who survived. The family charged the hospital and staff with negligence. During the legal proceedings, I did not have to testify. After a while, I no longer heard or thought about the case. This incident graphically reminded me that, as a medical professional, I face threats to my existence not only in the jungles of Sarawak, but also in the wilds of civilization-from litigious urbane "headhunters" who use lawyers for spears!

Although I was physically at UV, I often was preoccupied mentally with Sarawak-including the data from the study. In particular, there were problems emerging with the data analysis, including missing cases and a missing "key." Some of these problems were reflected in a letter written by Karl Schmidt to John Tong, dated August 25th, 1970. It said:

Dear John, Thank you very much for your new set of tables. I am still pondering over them, turning them over here, and making comparisons there. So far I can see no pattern emerging, can you? . . . Another question that worries more and more is our 80-column questionnaire as a search instrument. . . . It seems to be the only instrument with this 3-dimensional approach: questions to the respondent, to Head of Household, to interviewer. . . . We have not found the accompanying Key-instrument questionnaire very helpful, so it may be in other settings and with different personnel. Could you possibly run a reliability test on it with a group of a dozen students? . . . Best wishes. Karl Schmidt.

In addition to the data drama unfolding, I was preoccupied with the article I wanted to publish, on the phenomenon of Latah. I had been working on it with John Tong, who wrote to me, on September 7, to inform me of his revisions.

Dear Tom, . . . As you will see this draft is quite a departure from your earlier paper. I took this step only after a lot of deliberation and wondering how you would feel. After all, you were the person who initiated the study and did all of the leg work. However, as you know I publish two or three papers each year as a matter of course and I know a great deal about the difficulties of publication and the demands of journal editors. As it stood, your original paper contained a good many serious publication problems. The major shortcoming was a clear statement of the medical or scientific problem which required the study to be undertaken, some objective data and then some firm conclusions. After giving this a lot of thought I decided that the simplest course of action for me to take was to re-write the paper for you in the required form, incorporate the questionnaire data and propose some firm conclusions. In taking this step I took a chance that you will not be offended or think that I have interfered unduly. Anyway, have a look at the draft and let me know what you think. Do not hesitate to say anything Ñ I am quite used to the difficulties of authorship, and I promise that I will not be offended. I think that it was a very worthwhile study and there should be no problems about getting it published. I am thinking, also, that we should press on as quickly as possible in getting it into shape for the sake of the project as a whole. The granting agency will soon be pressing for some results. . . . I think Karl [Schmidt] is trying to transfer some of the grant money to me to pay for some clerical assistance with the computer analyses so this will be a great help. . . . As ever, John.

I immediately told John to go ahead with his revisions, and a few days later received another letter from him, dated September 10, that updated me on the data analysis from the Sarawak study, which he was in charge of-and some new issues that could threaten its completion.

Dear Tom, . . . The first stage of the computer analysis of the total data at Guelph is completed. I now have complete printouts of each questionnaire item broken down by age, sex, ethnic group, and classification, i.e., Normals, Suspect Cases and Cases. Grouped tables have been drawn up for these and a few initial statistical comparisons have been made. The next stage will be to complete these comparisons and run cluster analyses to determine any syndromes peculiar to the sexes, ethnic groups, etc. The cluster analyses may require a computer program to be written which will be time consuming and a little expensive. When these analyses are completed I will write a detailed report of the results which will require a lot of typing time.

I think the F.F.R.P. [Foundations' Fund for Research in Psychiatry] would be interested in some of the difficulties involved in this stage. The data did not arrive at Guelph until February 1970, by which date I had lost the computer time I had booked. Much of the material had to be repunched and all is now on tape. The computer costs have been very expensive, of course, but so far these have been met by the University as I have utilized my own allocated "computer free time." However, this may not be possible for the next stage and if program re-writing is necessary this will need man-hours. The Project is a very large scale study by any standards. There are 12,000 cards for analysis and, as you will recall from your visit, the printouts form a stack 6' high. . . . I see no reason why the complete detailed statistical report should not be ready within six months or so. . . . J. T. Tong, Professor of Psychology.


Throughout this letter concerned with lack of funds to do the job thoroughly and in a timely fashion, John made many requests for additional money in the range of about $2,500 to $3,500. I thought it best to forward this letter to the F. F. R. P. A few days later, on September 14, I wrote to Clark J. Bailey, Ph.D., the Executive Officer of the Foundations' Fund, informing him that progress was being made in analyzing the data, and directing his attention to the enclosed letter from John Tong. Bailey wrote back to me a week later, on September 21, indicating a mix-up in communication but without a remedy for the financial situation. He said:

Dear Dr. Chiu: . . . I am happy to hear that in spite of all of the administrative problems of the Sarawak project, analysis of the data is going forward and we can hope for a report of this interesting project in the relatively near future. I do not know how Professor Tong got the information that I would be visiting with Dr. Schmidt. As a matter of fact, we have had no correspondence in about a year and I have no intention of traveling to the South Pacific any time soon. Sincerely, yours, Clark J. Bailey.

The weeks rolled by and John seemed to be proceeding without a problem. Our Latah paper had been submitted to a journal, and I had begun to put out some "feelers" about a new position, as I was growing restless at UV. Then I received a hand-written letter from John, dated November 17, about our Latah paper and my concerns for another position.

Dear Tom, . . . First of all, the Latah paper!! The British Journal of Psychiatry people are not interested, and I enclose copies of Slater's reply and the assessor's report. I do not take the latter very seriously. . . . The problem now is whether you want to proceed with publication and to try another journal. If so the paper will need to be retyped in the appropriate format. Will you let me know what you propose. It might be a good idea if we got together for a discussion, as soon as possible. . . .

Concerning your interests in Ontario jobs, I am not clear whether you prefer normal clinical work or whether you wish to remain in a University setting. I have inquiries under way at the Guelph Community Psychiatric Clinic where they normally have 3 or 4 psychiatrists, and also elsewhere. . . . Don't worry about the rejection of the Latah paper-publication of anything is not easy these days. As ever, John.

Group Therapy Sessions
While my personal dramas were unfolding, I was involved in many group therapy sessions with patients at UV, as part of my professional role, which I usually found interesting and informative. Each session consisted of between three and seven patients, both men and women usually, and two or three psychiatrists. During the sessions, which lasted from 6:30 to 8:00 p.m., we encouraged the patients to discuss their problems and concerns in a supportive therapeutic context. At the beginning of each session, new members were introduced, and we asked the old members to explain the purpose of the meeting to the new members.

Sometimes we had "themes" for the sessions, such as reasons for being sick and how to cope with sickness; loneliness; feeling trapped; what the future means to you; how to stop taking drugs, like "speed;" and how to accept yourself "the way you are" and accept another person, so you will be accepted.

Patients often reacted anxiously or angrily towards other group members; sometimes they would leave the room. Generally, however, the exchanges were lively and everyone present remained till the end. The sessions occasionally began with a psychotic member speaking, followed by the group's handling of this, and then a healthier member speaking. Usually the group was supportive and provided constructive criticism and encouragement as the members revealed their depressions, anxieties, drug problems, marital problems, and fears, among many other things.

The patients often said bizarre things, reflecting their psychopathologies. During one session (November 24th), for example, a male patient recounted his illness from the time he "found out that New York City was different from pictures of New York City on post cards." This patient was very loose in association. At another session (December 29), a female patient began to describe why she came to the hospital, saying she had known something was wrong but somehow was unable to pinpoint the problem. On further questioning she said her "feeling of being stuck in St. Albans" [poor sleep] may have contributed to her becoming ill. At another session (January 19, 1971), a female patient talked about electricity and water gases that were "dangerous things" she encountered recently. Other bizarre productions she uttered included "I am full of electricity," "The machines can tell everything," and "We are all looking for breasts."

The January 26th session was unusual for me. It was the first time I ever saw an all-male patient session, and the three of them had a diagnostic impression of paranoid schizophrenia. One of the men began the session by relating the various "fears" he experienced incidental to rising tension and nervousness, and "people planning to kill me." Another patient stated that, when he was "jilted" by a girlfriend, he got upset and smoked 20 cigarettes in 10 minutes; but that made him so sick that he quit smoking after that.

During another session (March 30), a female patient was asked why she came to the hospital. In a most loose, circumstantial, bizarre manner she ruminated about the death of a good friend from "hemorrhage of the brain." Then she went on to say how, "All my life I never fitted anywhere." She felt "sad and depressed" that she could not help her friend and because "I can't be a mother." Asked again what brought her to the ward, she stated she was "confused" and that this was "maybe related to my friend's death" and to her examinations in school. Although this patient was loose and bizarre, she could be brought back to reality easily, I concluded.

During another session (April 13), an old member, when asked to explain the purpose of the meeting, said "Annie needs cigarettes," which was totally out of context at the time. Another patient equally inappropriately said, "I understand Annie's fracture. My husband had a broken ankle." This patient then stated, in a doll-like fashion, the circumstances of her admission to UV. She said she found three maple trees cut down in her driveway that signified loss of three lives Ñ lives of three children she wanted to have. She then said, "My husband did not understand me; I cried that night so he brought me here the following day." The first patient, who referred to "Annie," then described to the group how she was "tricked" into coming to the hospital. In stressing her various bruises, she lowered her pants and showed the group the "blue" marks on her buttocks. She also told the group, in a circuitous, boring way about a baby brother beaten up at the Canadian border, and that he had to pretend being dead. Several of the patients began crying. One started lamenting over the death of a fetus and adoption of a child she had, stating there was no chance for her to see the child. This was the first time that tears were flowing all over the place. I experienced it as a sad and touching encounter.

In the group sessions, we often got the patients to agree that they needed medications and that they could get better; and we asked them if they could make suggestions to help one another, among other positive things. Most patients were receptive to this input, and many improved over time. Their depression lifted. Their anxiety subsided. Their human interaction increased. Their paranoia decreased. Their self-esteem improved.

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In the cold Vermont winter, while seriously thinking of leaving UV and seeking a new position, I received a letter, dated December 3, 1970, from Edward C. Andrews, Jr., M.D., the President of UV, informing me that they wanted me to stay through 1972.

Dear Dr. Chiu: The annual evaluation for reappointment by department chairmen and the deans has been made. I am pleased to inform you that as a result I shall report to the Board of Trustees, at the December 5 meeting, the recommendation for your reappointment to June 30, 1972.

I did not accept the reappointment, however, mainly because I wanted to do more community work, similar to what I did in Boston. They could offer me only inpatient psychiatry, however. In truth, I wasn't even sure if they had a community psychiatry program at UV. If they did not, then I hoped they would create the program for me. I also found the bureaucracy at UV too slow for getting changes I requested implemented. Overall, I felt right about making the decision to leave, though I would have stayed, I believe, if they allowed me to practice more community psychiatry.

At that time, my brother had returned to New York. Although I missed family, I found myself applying to far-away places for a new position, including Hawaii. My ambivalence about where I wanted to be became apparent when I actually I got an offer to discuss a position in the "pineapple state." Although the offer sounded tempting, I refused, because I decided Hawaii was too far from the East Coast, to which I had grown accustomed.

Among the people I wrote to for suggestions was Professor Murphy, who replied to me on McGill University letterhead, dated February 10, 1971, with sage advice about my life in general.

Dear Dr. Chiu, . . . it seems better planning to assure yourself of stable citizenship somewhere before pursuing either your special career interests or a base around which your family could gather. Without citizenship in either the U.S. or Canada you will always be somewhat handicapped as respects the other two goals. The U.S. would seem the more suitable for you since you already have your landed immigrant status, but if your family decided to settle in Canada the correct plan, I think, would be to get a job here [Canada] as soon as possible, regardless of whether it was near your family and was attractive work or not.

I do not know of any particular job in the U.S. that would suit your talents, but you should be able to compete for a post in a mental health clinic without much difficulty if you avoid the cities and if you wanted something of transcultural interest you could always, I think, apply for work at the mental hospital in Hawaii. . . . But I think you should move from Burlington. In Canada the obvious type of post to aim for is director of a district mental health center in the prairies or in B. C. That would be far from Guelph and your family but would pay very well and would give ample opportunities for travel.

. . . . Regarding the latah paper, I think the British Journal would have accepted it if it had been short enough, but there is such a pressure on all the better journals that they refuse everything over a certain length (about 15 pages) and even those papers that they do accept are placed on a waiting list running into years.

I have not heard from Dr. Schmidt but might see him in Hawaii next month when I will be back there for a week. I hope both he and yourself find suitable posts but I have nothing more to suggest than I mentioned earlier. With best regards, H.B.M. Murphy, M.D., Ph.D., Professor, Department of Psychiatry.


Winter was becoming spring, and I had still not found a new position. A friend, Robert L. Bragg, M.D., whom I had also asked to help me in my job search (or was it life search?), reported some pessimistic news in a letter dated March 21, 1971:

Dear Tom: . . . I did have a conference with Leon Eisenberg on Friday and he tells me that things are tight in so far as new positions at the Lindemann Center are concerned. Sometime ago I heard that there were less than sixty new professional positions for the Department of Mental Health for the entire state beginning July 1st, 1971. We are really in an economic crisis. HRS is having its financial problems too and our Board Meeting this past Thursday was quite anxiety provoking. It was quite obvious to me that hard-nose business people do not think about mental health programs as we mental healthers do. I don't think the problem is as bad as our executive committee looks at it. . . .

I believe that I mentioned to you the relationship of HRS to the Department of Mental Health, etc. Unfortunately, we are in a tight squeeze from a money point of view. Wish I had the money to hire you. Would love to have you on the staff. It is difficult to find facilities that actually are involved in community mental health and see themselves as having investments in that area.

In spite of budgetary problems, etc. I would suggest that you write to the following and please feel free to use my name as a reference for any and all of these. . . . Please be in touch when you think that you will be in the Boston area. Sincerely, Bob.


Another friend, Tony Marsella, who was a Psychologist in both the Sarawak research project and the University of Hawaii, School of Medicine, updated me about the situation in that state, in a letter dated March 22, 1971.

I have been actively trying to help you find a position. There are openings in Hawaii for psychiatrists but only on the outer islands, i.e., Kauai, Maui, Hawaii. These are more pastoral settings and could be quite nice for you. Things are filled in Oahua. . . . Sorry to hear that things did not work out at Vermont. Hope that we can be of help to you here. Please let me know what you decide. Regards Tony M.



I was beginning to feel that the whole world was on my case. Only a day later, I received another letter from Professor Murphy, dated March 23, from Hawaii, which said:

Dear Dr. Chiu, I saw Dr. Marsella in Honolulu and enquired regarding posts there which might suit you. He will be writing you in more detail, but for the present I can only warn you that in the past 6 to 9 months the situation there has changed quite markedly. The community mental health clinics have almost all posts filled, even on the Big Island, and the state hospital has for the first time in its history a reserve list of psychiatrists who have applied for work there. There might still be a post in the North End clinic on Oahu, i.e., that clinic furthest from Honolulu, and there might also be a possibility of a post on one of the smaller islands; but it seems that Hawaii has now been discovered by psychiatrists as a quite desirable place whereas previously it was thought of as relatively undesirable and isolated. . . .

You will have to write to them as soon as Marsella gives you addresses, if you want to go there. . . . I gathered in Washington a few weeks ago that NIMH still thinks of there being a shortage of doctors for community mental health centers in the US, particularly doctors with research interests, but I do not know what locations they had in mind. . . . If you express an interest and a readiness to work with Filipinos, this should help you since people are now beginning to realise that they are a neglected, not so small, minority.
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As I was contemplating all this input about tight markets, money shortages, and doctor oversupply, I made final arrangements to leave Vermont. I said sad goodbyes to some very special people outside of the medical arena, including Professor Thomas Read, a music teacher who had been instructing me to play the violin. In a letter dated May 25, 1971, I said to him, avoiding mention of my discontent with UV:

Dear Professor Read: I wish to thank you very kindly for taking me as one of your pupils. Due to personal reasons, I shall be leaving Vermont very shortly and therefore would like to terminate my lessons. I consider myself very fortunate to have you as a teacher. I have decided to buy the violin I rented, hoping to continue from hereon. My best wishes to you.

I still have that violin-but have not played it since leaving Vermont! Why, I'm not quite certain. Does it remind me of a time I'd rather forget? Was I not really interested in the violin? Can one ever know the answer to such questions for sure? I am not certain, with all due respects to my profession.

I also wrote goodbye to another friend, Mary-the social worker whom I praised for skill at discharge planning- and expressed regret over my unfulfilled needs at UV. She conveyed heartfelt sentiments in a letter dated June 23, 1971:

Dear Tom, It was good to hear from you, but you sounded so blue that I found myself feeling very angry at our Department of Psychiatry for letting you go. Since then I have heard via our rumor clinic that you have sound offers including Hawaii. I can imagine that you are still being Torn in several directions; but I do hope that you can find a way of taking the one you really want. . . . We will all be anxious to hear what great decision you will make. We certainly want the best for you. Mary.

In the midst of my "new job crisis," I was still preoccupied about the publication of my Latah paper and the data from the Sarawak study, both of which crucially involved John Tong, as coauthor and data analyst, respectively. He wrote to me on July 28, 1971, saying that he'd be travelling in August or September; and, if he flew, he would "call at Hawaii, Samoa, Fiji and then to New Caledonia for a session with Karl [Schmidt]. If a boat is available," he continued, "then I will modify my plans, of course." He then asked, in underline, "Will you please keep me informed on the progress of the Latah paper, for my University reports of publications?" And he went on to discuss the Sarawak project. He had hoped to have had a chance to talk with me before conferring with Karl Schmidt, in preparation for that meeting, he said; and he asked, suggesting another problem with the data, "Can you go ahead with this report without the punch card information? I intend to take the cards with me for Karl to decipher?" Decipher. Now there's a word that you don't want to hear in a research project, especially from your chief data analyst. What couldn't he understand? And why? Would Karl be able to help him "decipher" the cards? Oh well, that was an area I couldn't directly help with, not being a statistician or computer maven. I'd have to hope for the best, and get on with the things at hand, like where I would next work. That puzzle was solved very shortly, as it turned out.



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