a quiet weekend and looking ahead

Well, I take back any negative thoughts I ever had about the new warden, Mariyamma Kochamma. She’s old school, for sure, but I really respect and like her now. All but 3 of the TTC students—Tincy, Sanu, and Deepa—went home this weekend, so it was the three of them, me, and Mariyamma Kochamma alone in our hostel. It was great to have some quality hang out time with them, Kochamma included.

I had a little ‘writing assignment’ given to me by Sanila Teacher (to write something for the diocesan women’s magazine about my time at Buchanan), so I camped out with Sanu, Tincy, and Deepa on the floor of their room, them surrounded by all of their papers/work, and me with my laptop, typing away. They intermittently asked me for help, and of course we randomly chatted. They are really wonderful girls.

What else, what else…this upcoming Thursday, Maggie, Jim, and I are heading to Thomas John Achen’s house for our final retreat. CRAZY. We’ll be together until Sunday, when the three of us are giving the message at a church in Achen’s area. Then, we’ll return to our sites. On July 2^nd we have our formal farewell meeting with Achen and our supervisors. And two weeks later, on July 15, we’ll leave our sites for good and go to Thomas John Achen’s house to enjoy each other’s company for the last time, boarding our flight home on July 18.

If I had to choose one word to describe how all of this feels it would be: surreal. I just re-read the above paragraph, and it feels like it’s written about someone else, not me. Can it be that I will be seeing much-missed friends and family in just over a month? Can it be that I’m going to have to say goodbye to the people I love, and all the things I love about my life in Kerala, so soon?

Surreal, that’s what it is.

"We all have our time machines. Some take us back, they're called memories. Some take us forward, they're called dreams." -Jeremy Irons

rain days, shopping, singing-along, pretending to study, and more!

This post was written on June 8.

Today it didn’t rain ONCE. However due to yesterday’s frequent and copious rain spells, school today was cancelled because of flooding. I guess in Kerala we have ‘rain days’ instead of ‘snow days’?

At first I was kind of bummed. I had been looking forward to my classes and had a good lesson plan, darn it! But it’s funny how the days you expect to be the worst can turn out to be the best, and vice versa. Today was one of those days. So was yesterday.

Yesterday was one of those surprising days in that I expected it to be good but it ended up being sort of…blah. No one’s fault, really, I just found myself very much in the background amidst the chaos of the new school year. I only had 4 classes to teach, 2 of which ended up being cancelled, and all the teachers are so busy with class rosters, more new admissions, myriad lists, and the like, that it was a little lonely. But after-school ended up being better than school itself.

Although today more than made up for yesterday. It was, as I mentioned, a surprising day in that my first thought of the morning, upon finding out school was cancelled due to flooding, was, ‘oh great, another day of nothing.’ But then, I resolved to make it something.

I went walking/jogging with a pack of children, we played on the playground, and I took a shower (or, a bucket, as Maggie, Jim, and I affectionately call the act)—all before breakfast. Breakfast was one of my other favorites (next to uppu mav, which I mentioned in my last post)—pal appam and kadala curry. I spent more time with the younger children and then read some of my latest book—Charles Dickens’ Dombey and Son. Then I kept one of the TTC students company in the study hall while she was working on some homework, and before we knew it, it was lunchtime.

Okay, so maybe the morning doesn’t sound all that exciting. But it was enjoyable—a good mix of fun and rest. The afternoon got more interesting, though; after lunch, I went with the Speechly College students to Chingavanam. (Speechly College is a college (surprise!) located on the Buchanan campus. There are a handful of Speechly students who live in the boarding hostel where the TTC (teacher training course) students and I live. Chingavanam is the nearest town).

It was great to hang out with the Speechly girls. I don’t spend a whole lot of time with them regularly as they speak English fluently and were I to be super friendly with them, it would probably attract some animosity from the TTC students, etc, and look like I was showing favoritism just because the Speechly girls speak English. So it was really nice to get out with them and not feel bad for socializing with them in front of other people, for once.

We got ice cream and checked items off the LONG shopping list that had been given to us by the TTC students (they aren’t allowed to leave the Buchanan campus). We arrived back to Buchanan just in time for me to make it to my 3PM engagement with the KNH Hostel (a hostel located on Buchanan’s campus that is funded by a charity in Germany. It houses girls who are orphaned or from underprivileged families). Jim came, too, guitar in hand, and we taught them a few English songs. We also performed a couple—isn’t that a funny thought? ME, singing, for a crowd?? As if I actually had some sort of vocal talent?? …haha!

It went really well—for most of the girls, it was probably their first time seeing/hearing a guitar played in person. The favorite song was ‘Kumbaya’; the fun, fast-paced version, that is. By the end of our hour with them, they could sing it by themselves!

From the guitar/singing program I went straight to exercise class. The girls who were ‘regulars’ last year still come, as well as many of the boarding students who are new as of this year. The new students, especially, make it really fun and keep me laughing with their goofy dance moves.

Not too long after exercise class there was a knock on my door. It was Joshmi, one of the TTC students. She asked if I was free, to which I replied yes, and she then asked me to come to her room. It kind of seemed like something might be wrong, and after the two of us sat down on her bed, she said “Madi chechi, we are really sad. Last year we got to talk to you all the time but now with the new Kochamma (warden), we don’t talk as much.” I said, “Joshmi, I know! I miss you guys a lot. With your new schedule and all of your study time I’m afraid to interrupt and get you in trouble with Kochamma.” Part of the problem is also that, due to the new study schedule, rule of absolute quiet, etc, most of the girls now stay confined in their rooms, with the doors closed, rather than roaming around the hostel like they used to. Anyway I thought it was really cute that they had obviously made a group decision to call me into their room (there were other students present, too—Deepa, Merlin, and Tincy) so we could have some intentional hang out time. I ended up staying for about an hour and a half—it’s amazing how a closed door and quiet talking can make it seem as though those inside are actually studying ;) And we decided that such visits would happen more often from now on. Before, I just felt bad interrupting, and I really missed the girls, even during just the past week—but now I know they’ve missed me, too.

One very terrifying detail of my otherwise good day that I’ve forgotten to mention is that a monstrous, impossibly big cockroach jumped down the back of my churidar while I was with the Speechly students shopping in Chingavanam…TRAUMATIZING.

“Men often become what they believe themselves to be. If I believe I cannot do something, it makes me incapable of doing it. But when I believe I can, then I acquire the ability to do it even if I didn't have it in the beginning.” –Mahatma Ghandi

just posting for the sake of posting

This post was written on June 4.

Reasons to love monsoon season:

-It’s not miserably hot!

-who doesn’t love a good heavy rain?

-Plenty of water supply (days of no running water and having to draw it from the well are OVER!)

-It’s not miserably hot!

Yep, I’m loving monsoon season. And the fact that it’s not miserably hot DOES deserve to be mentioned twice. That, combined with all the fruits that are in season, might make this my favorite time of year in Kerala. Mangoes fresh off the tree? Yes, please!

The new warden is proving to put her money where her mouth is. The TTC girls have been following a strict schedule and things are a LOT quieter around here than they used to be. However she is a genuinely nice, caring person, and has shown a lot of emotional care and concern for the TTC students and their worries over their classes, etc. Now that I have been around her for a few days, I have no doubt that the girls will come to love and appreciate her in spite of her strict rules. (Now if only she would stop knocking on my door to wake me up (15 minutes too early, I might add) for morning prayer! I managed to somehow get myself there every morning for the past nine months, didn’t I??)

Today was an average Saturday. The rain stopped long enough to make it a good idea to hurry up and do some laundry, so that was an accomplishment. I tried to play Uno with the younger girls but the new warden insisted that they should study, instead. I took advantage of that time to take a little nap (by that time it was raining—perfect nap time!). Later I spent some time with the TTC students, and we had our first exercise class (zumba) of the new school year.

Did I mention we had one of my favorite breakfasts this morning?? Uppu mav!

"Blessed are they who see beautiful things in humble places where other people see nothing." -Camille Pissarro

transitioning back, and party's over, folks

Well, this post isn’t going to be nearly as negative as the title sounds.

With regard to the first part, I’m back at Buchanan! Leaving Mandiram was a lot sadder than I ever imagined it would be, but I guess I should count it a blessing that I was able to spend time there at all, especially given that it was a much, much more positive experience than I ever dreamed it would be. I had to fight back the tears (not entirely successfully) as I left on Tuesday morning and sincerely meant it when I told everyone I would come back to visit before going home to the US in July. There’s no way I’m leaving without seeing Raju, the balika girls, the wardens, or all the other people I’ve come to love there one last time!

Upon arriving to Buchanan I found only the headmistress, Omana Teacher, and Mariyamma Kochamma, who were all registering new students. It was so good to see them but after just a minute or two I had to look on in amusement as the two aforementioned teachers debated about whether I’ve gotten ‘more fat’ or ‘more slim’ during summer vacation (the first view argued by Omana Teacher; the second by Mariyamma Kochamma). In reality I don’t think my weight has changed at all—in fact I know it hasn’t because I have a scale. By now I am unsurprised by such comments, and have never taken them offensively, but I couldn’t help think of Mandiram, where no one ever made remarks, positive or negative, about my appearance, what I was wearing, etc. It was refreshing to spend 3 months not being scrutinized!

Nevertheless I really was happy to be back at Buchanan, especially the next day, which was the first day of school. Getting to reconnect with all of the teachers, students, and especially the boarding students was just as fun as I imagined it would be. It ended up being a somewhat tedious morning, though, because even though all the students came for the first day, it was really just continued registration and sorting out the divisions—there was no actual class. Thankful when lunchtime rolled around, I went back to the hostel to wash my hands and who did I find but ALEENA!

You may remember that before summer vacation, I blogged about the students who would not be coming back for the new school year; Aleena was one of them. Her mother’s job was being transferred to somewhere in North India, so her family was moving there. Aleena might have the wild imagination of a fifth grader, but is not one to make things like that up, so I was resigned to the reality that the new school year at Buchanan would be sans-Aleena. Imagine my delight, then, to see that boisterous little (now) 6^th-grader standing on the front porch of the hostel!

After the initial ‘oh-my-gosh,-what-are-you-doing-here?!?!?’ (she explained that her mother’s transfer got delayed a year), I gave her a hug and quite honestly said “Aleena, seeing you is the best surprise of my day.” And off we walked to lunch.

The other unforeseen development of the day was the arrival of a new warden. I had heard whispers of it among the teachers in the staff room, but it wasn’t clear if Gracy Kochamma, the current warden, was leaving (which would have been really sad; she has come to be my Kerala ‘grandmother figure’—I love her dearly!) or if there would be two wardens (which didn’t make sense, as there are only about 15 Buchanan boarding students). Turns out that there are, in fact, now two wardens—Gracy Kochamma will continue to be responsible for the Buchanan boarding students, and the new warden, a retired, long time teacher, is in charge of the TTC (teacher training course) students.

I’ve probably mentioned in the past that I live with the TTC students. As young as 18 or as old as 23, they are my friends and my peers. Our hostel is located right next to a smaller building that houses Gracy Kochamma and the Buchanan boarding students. In the past, everyone answered to Gracy Kochamma, who could be strict at times and whose word was always the last but was/is very much loved and respected by all of the children, the Buchanan boarding students and TTC students included.

The TTC students have always had a lot of freedom. After dinner, especially, we would lock the doors of our hostel and be on our own until morning, Gracy Kochamma in the next building over should we ever need anything. The TTC girls were diligent with their studies but also took ample time for socializing; they lived according to their own schedules. Sure, they would sometimes spend the evening hanging out or listening to music, rushing to finish their homework in the morning before class, but part of being independent is learning to manage oneself, one’s balance between work and play, and being responsible for the consequences of one’s actions, whether good or bad.

Well…party’s over, folks. The new warden is not only directly in charge of the TTC students…she lives IN our hostel. Right across the hall from me. She made it quite clear on the first day that things were going to be changing around here: now the girls will have a daily schedule, which begins at 5:30AM and includes plenty of study time at various intervals during the day, and two small windows of limited ‘personal time.’ During ‘personal time’ they are allowed to talk, but during study time there should be complete silence. Their rooms will be inspected regularly for neatness/cleanliness. ‘Lights out’ is at 10:30PM. This is a HUGE change from the study-when/how-much-you-want, stay-up-as-late-as-you-want, do-whatever-you-want-(within reason) way of life before.

I have mixed feelings about the new military regime; on the one hand, it doesn’t really affect me or my daily comings and goings at all. On the other hand, I’m a big fan of the value and lessons of independence—being self-reliant, reaping what one sows, whether positive or negative, and learning from it all in the process—and dislike the idea of treating the TTC students like mindless children who have to have every action and behavior dictated to them. A third point of view is the what-doesn’t-kill-you-makes-you-stronger route; perhaps they will in the long-term benefit from the disciplined environment and routine.

In any case, it will be a difficult adjustment for them. I, for one, am just so happy to be back with all of my friends, from 6^th grade Aleena and Praseela to 9^th grade Athira to 23-year-old TTC student Sanu—I have missed them all so much! I even got a big welcome from Amamma, the cook. She speaks zero English and is one example of many from this year of the bonds and friendship that can be formed even with little to no verbal communication.

In the staffroom today Manju Teacher observed with delight that I had a birthday over summer vacation and am now 23—‘prime marriageable age!’ She and the other teachers then started talk of finding me a ‘tall and beautiful’ Malayalee husband in the next 6 weeks so that I can stay. They are so funny—I just love them :)

As time dwindles, it becomes more precious. May Maggie, Jim, and all the YAVs all over the world continue to make the best of our last 6 weeks. We’ve come along way, haven’t we?

“I have been very happy with my homes, but homes really are no more than the people who live in them.” –Nancy Reagan

some good ol' measuring in love

This post was written on May 25. 


My heart is just so full.

This morning, we had the 'send off' for the graduating class of nursing students. As I will be leaving Mandiram on Tuesday, it was a send off for me, too.

In front of the group of 100+ people, Thomas Samuel Achen, Mandiram's chaplain, addressed the outgoing nursing students. He spoke in Malayalam, but from the little I could catch, he was congratulating them on reaching this milestone and offering some reflections and advice as they move on in their careers.


Then, he addressed me, and spoke about the things I have been doing during my time at Mandiram. One committment that he commented on, in particular, was my tutoring of Monisha and Sunitha, which I touched upon in my last post. Thomas Samuel Achen's office is next to the room where we have our daily lessons, so our chatter interspersed with laughter has probably disrupted his afternoons on more than one occasion.

He mentioned how he just finished reading The Shack, upon my recommendation. I'm fairly certain that no one in the room had ever heard of the book, but he told the crowd how it portrays God and the trinity, not as a heirarchy from Father to Son to Holy Spirit but as a relationship of community, equality, and sharing between three who are equal and one. He went on to espouse the view expressed in the book that that is how God intends creation to function: just like the trinity--as a relationship of community, equality, and sharing, sans heirarchy. Furthermore, he echoed the idea that the notion of heirarchy is something invented by humans in order to impose our own sense of order on the world.

Now, this is a big deal coming from an Achen, in a church that is all about heirarchy and a society that is, too. And as Thomas Samuel Achen commended me (I didn't entirely deserve all of it, I might add!), he said that in overhearing and sometimes looking in on my English lessons with Monisha and Sunitha, he had seen that equality in practice; that I didn't approach them in a teacher-student fashion, but as friends.

There's no other way I would have done it, of course, even though, according to Kerala standards, I am technically Monisha and Sunitha's elder, not to mention a guest, which makes me doubly 'worthy' of respect and deference. So I'm glad that my time with the girls could reflect to them, and others , too, including Thomas Samuel Achen, that the most genuine relationships are based on equality and sharing, not heirarchy and positions of superiority/inferiority. 

I have so treasured my time here. If you've been keeping up with my blogs throughout the past few months, you know that when I first came to Mandiram in March, I wasn't thrilled. I missed Buchanan a lot. But now, three months later, I have come to love and appreciate Mandiram immensely. If I had been here from the beginning of my time in Kerala, I have no doubt that I would have come to love it just as much as Buchanan. I am so excited for next year's volunteer, who will be here from September onwards and get the full 'Mandiram experience.' As for me, I feel so blessed that I got to experience this community and the people here, even if only for a short while.

As I prepare to leave Mandiram in just a few days, I find myself reflecting on the most memorable happenings. I have many good memories of sitting around the dinner table with the wardens, especially during the few weeks Maggie was here, laughing about who-knows-what, and the moment when Jijo would always announce "ok, finished," as a way to signal that everyone was done and we could all get up and wash our plates and hands. Or how Jijo, to this day, persists in calling me 'Madison Aunty,' to which I promptly reply 'Aunty venda!' (meaning, don't call me aunty), after which he grins and continues on with whatever he was saying. I recall all the times that Manna, a 2-year old member of the balika (orphanage) would see me from impossibly far away and yell "Madi chechi!!!!"

I think of many Malayalam lessons with Thomas Samuel Achen (3 times a week for 1.5 hours each time), which more often than not turned into lengthy discussions on life, religion, current events, and more. I remember all the small conversations I've had with the appachens and amachees (residents of the old age home), each one, however simple, a small victory for my Malayalam skills. I think of how everyone from the cooks to the principal of the nursing school would dote on me; the many talks I've had with the first-year nursing students about topics from nurse-patient dialogues in English to who among us has a lover. I think of my favorite residents of the old age home, including RAJU, who knows all. 

Let me tell you about Raju. He has some sort of mental disability, although I don't know what it is. His speech is hardly intelligible even to those who actually speak Malayalam (aka, not me). But he is SO FUNNY. When Maggie was here we had this little ritual with Raju that involved, whenever the three of us encountered each other, pointing at each other and exclaiming each other's names, followed by laughter and more laughter. "Maggie...Raju...Madison....AHAHAHAHAHA!"

Raju is one who most would consider to not be 'all there' (sorry if that's politically incorrect--I'm not trying to be offensive at all, I love Raju!), but Maggie and I have a joke that Raju knows all. He would always seem to catch us when we were doing something that we wanted to go unnoticed (such as, not wanting to be insulting to the person who gave it to us, sneakily throwing a piece of fruit that was too bitter to eat out the window). Oh, Raju. I'm gonna miss you.

On Tuesday, it's off to Buchanan I go. But how lucky am I, to leave one place that I love, for another?

"In African language we say 'a person is a person through other persons.' I would not know how to be a human being at all except I learned this from other human beings. We are made for a delicate network of relationships, of interdependence. We are meant to complement each other. All kinds of things go terribly wrong when we break that fundamental law of our being. Not even the most powerful nation can be completely self-sufficient." -Archbishop Desmond Tutu

gender equality rant

 Note added on 5/27/11: Received some great email feedback about this blog that made me realize that my point may have come across differently than I meant it in my head. The phrase "we are a product of our culture" might have been a little strong for what I intended. What I really meant, and failed to express well, is that where we are born plays a large role in determining our world view (for example, what constitutes an acceptable standard of living, our ideas about basic rights, roles in society, etc.). Thanks to Kristen Kraemer for helping me to better express what was already in my head :) You and Reece Smith keep me on my toes!
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We are all a product of where we come from. This is neither good nor bad in itself--it's just something that one must acknowledge. We are a product of where we come from, for all the good, bad, ugly, and wonderful that that might bring. In a previous post, I pointed out that I am a product of my culture. In that particular instance, I was commenting on one of the negative aspects of my culture: fully prepared to admit the harm that comes with overgeneralizing, we tend to overconsume. We are wasteful. We have the luxury of not having to always cut corners or find a use for anything that can't be burned. We live in a bubble filled with excess.

But I am also from a place where I was raised to believe that I can do anything. Where I have never been made to feel inferior to anyone because of my gender. I am from a place where little girls are taught: "You are a girl. You are just as good as any boy--you can do, aspire to, anything that a boy can. You are anyone's equal. You are capable and intelligent; walk uprightly and with confidence. Assert yourself--you are not subservient to anyone. Anything a boy can achieve, you can achieve. Any opportunity is yours, if only you reach out and take it. You can do anything."

...Let me backtrack. You are probably wondering where this rant on gender equality is coming from. Truly, I think it's been subconsciously percolating for a while. Maybe it started in October when I learned that it's not appropriate for girls to whistle. Or maybe on Fridays, teaching at CMS High School, where the classes are co-ed--it always struck me as odd that even though the girls spoke much better English than the boys (I know this from grading their papers) that they would never, ever speak up in class. Or perhaps every Sunday at church when the men get to take communion before the women?

The point is, it's been percolating. And I'm commenting with respect to both the church in Kerala, and Kerala society as a whole. It's been percolating to the point where at one of my Malayalam lessons last week, I decided to randomly ask my teacher, Thomas Samuel Achen, about his opinion on ordaining women in the church. (Thomas Samuel Achen is the Chaplain at Mandiram. He is a pastor of the Church of South India (CSI), which does not allow ordination of women).

Achen is a funny guy. Immediately after I asked the question ("What do you think about women being ordained?"), he broke out into a huge smile, fully aware that I had him cornered. Talking to an outspoken young woman who he knew would be starting Seminary in just a few months, he had to choose his words carefully. While chuckling, Achen took my hand in a very grandfatherly, I'm-about-to-tell-you-something-you-don't-want-to-hear type of way and said that personally, he sees no reason why women shouldn't be ordained. He feels that the practice of excluding women is archaic and has no basis in modern theology or society. BUT--his viewpoint represents the minority, and he doesn't foresee anything changing in Kerala any time soon...or ever.

The conversation with Achen was lighthearted; I had expected an answer along those lines. I have always been aware of Kerala's patriarchal mindset (and not just mindset--Kerala's patriarchal REALITY), and I suppose that that particular manifestation of it--not ordaining women in the CSI--had never bothered me because I knew that it was something that would never affect me. Also, while I don't agree with it, not ordaining women isn't all that shocking of a practice--there are denominations even in the US that don't do it.

Still, in the days following, I found myself thinking more and more about what it means to be a girl in Kerala. I found myself remembering Shilpa, a 10th grade student at Buchanan who, back in March, asked me to write her a message in her 'autograph' book. On the first page was her own 'about me' page, which will serve as a momento for her to remember her high school years, her likes and dislikes, who her friends were, etc. Among the statements with spaces for answers were "My favorite color is _____." "My biggest role model is _____." "My best attribute is ______." I was amused to read her answers and know something of her beyond the rigidity of the classroom.

One of the last statements was, "My ambition is ______." Her answer was: to be a good wife.

Shilpa's autographh book was the first of many that I signed. I quickly realized that her answer was a popular one: "My ambition is to be a good wife."

Now, don't get me wrong. I do hope to get married one day. I hope to be a 'good wife,' whatever that means. I hope my husband is a good husband. But is that my AMBITION in life??? Is that what I think of when someone asks me what the single greatest thing I hope to do with my LIFE is?? Would I say that now, or in 10th GRADE?

No, no, and no.

The real catalyst for this little rant on gender equality, however, took place just last Saturday night. I was helping to clean the chapel before Sunday morning's church service. Having just distributed the hymnals to each row, I went to climb the two steps to the raised area behind the main podiums, where the altar is located. One of the wardens, Jijo, was wrestling with the cloth to cover the altar and looked like he could use a hand.

I hadn't made it up the first step before he waved his hands, shook his head, and said no no no to me, abruptly stopping me in my tracks and leaving me to wonder what I had done wrong. "This is a holy place," he apologetically said. "No ladies allowed."

Caught off guard doesn't even begin to describe how I felt. Try not to cry was the first order of business. I know that sounds ridiculous, but while I wouldn't consider myself a sensitive person, times when I can be unexpectedly sensitive are situations when I'm rebuked without warning, especially if I thought I was doing something good at the time. All I wanted to do was help :(

I managed a smile and probably said something along the lines of "oh, sorry, I didn't know" and sat down. During the next few minutes I tried to look normal, but in truth I was deeply troubled by what had just occurred. Poor Jijo--I think he could tell I was upset. Which made me feel even worse, because it wasn't his fault. He is actually my favorite warden--he is always laughing and singing, and in spite of the fact that his English grammar is terrible, rambles on like only an orator could.

Like me--like all of us--Jijo is a product of his culture. He genuinely believes--and so does his church--that only men can be allowed in/near holy places, as if women were inherently worth less, or men were inherently more righteous, in God's eyes. Come on--I understand that no matter what degree I hold, you will never, ever let me serve communion. But I can't even go near the ALTAR? Not even to CLEAN it?? (Funny, you would think that was my place...).

Obviously, I have a problem with this viewpoint on a multitude of levels, one of many being theologically. Before I open that can of worms, however, let me admit that the altar incident was so minor, and I know that. But it was the first time in my life I have been turned away from anything because I am a girl. And the fact that a tiny episode that took place in a span of three seconds was so hurtful to me only made me think of all the people throughout history who have been made to feel inferior or judged or excluded merely because they belong to a certain group. If I got upset over not being allowed near the altar because I'm a girl, what would it have felt to have been black during the Civil Rights movement? To be an immigrant in the US today? To be gay?

One thing I have neglected to mention is that I was slated to give the sermon the next morning. "You are lower in the chain of the heirarchy of God's love and you are inferior to 50% of the population" is not what one wants to hear before such an event. Part of me considered telling Thomas Samuel Achen what had happened and that I was not willing to preach in a church that did not see me as equal. Another part of me wanted to ditch the sermon I had written the week before and churn out a new one replete with phrases like "God loves all of his children equally," "There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female...(Galatians 3:28)", and "ARE YOU SERIOUS, PEOPLE???"

But let's face it: even the most passionate, rationally argued, theologically sound sermon from yours truly isn't going to revamp the patriarchal mindset of an entire state. Sunday morning rolled around and I went with Plan C: stick with the original sermon. Because I didn't come to Kerala to advocate for gender equality in the church or society--I came to be present. I came to experience another culture and learn from it, positive and negative aspects included. Standing in front of the congregation and harping about gender equality wouldn't have changed anyone's mind. What would change their minds--or at least get them to question their own viewpoints--would be to go up there as planned, speak confidently, and hold my head up high. And that's what I did.

Later that day, I was tutoring two girls, Monisha and Sunitha, who volunteer at the hospital and plan to start nursing school next year. Both are 18 years old; we meet every day, if/when we're all free, to study English. That particular Sunday afternoon, we practiced writing a letter to a friend and talking about activities that are done at different times of day. After about 45 minutes we closed our notebooks for the day and went to have afternoon tea.

Monisha, shy when we first started having English lessons about 2 weeks ago, is now a regular chatterbox. As we sat around the table with our tea and cookies, she commented on my sermon from that morning. "Madi chechi, your message was super. You know, that is my biggest dream: to one day give a speech, in English, to a huge audience of people. Like you did."

Monisha, you are a girl. You are just as good as any boy...You are anyone's equal...You can do anything.

Origami Emotion
Hope is 
folding paper cranes
even when your hands get cramped
and your eyes tired,
working past blisters and 
paper cuts, 
simply because something in you
insists on
opening its wings.
-Elizabeth Barrette

all-india wrap up

Let's see, where did I leave you last? Somewhere around Delhi, I think. In the interests of wrapping up the "all-India trip" blog series and getting back to normal life, here's a brief (maybe?) summary of the highlights of the rest of the trip:

After Delhi, we went to Agra, where we stayed at a little place called the Shanti Lodge ('shanti' means peace in Hindi). The best part of our hotel--which was just your average, very basic backpacker place--was its rooftop restaurant. With an amazing view of the Taj Mahal, it was somewhat surreal to be eating rice and dal and every few minutes thing, look, it's the Taj Mahal! A couple minutes later...whoa, it's still there. A few minutes later...oh man, there it is again. Other than seeing the Taj at sunrise the next morning, one of my favorite moments of that portion of the trip was randomly getting lost in Agra. Trying to find our way through the maze of streets to our hotel, somehow we took a wrong turn. We ended up in a very interesting area that had a variety of sights, sounds, and smells, some more pleasant than others. But it was real. The everyday-ness of it was, in its own way, enchanting, and both eye-opening and refreshing after being in mostly 'touristy' places.

Following Agra was Jaipur, located in the desert state of Rajasthan. On a whim, we decided to visit the local astrologer. Maggie had her horoscope prepared, and Jim had his palm read. Apparently, Jim will not have a happy marriage. Poor guy.

Our second stop in Rajasthan was the city of Bikaner. We stayed at Vijay's Guest House, which is...you guessed it...actually Vijay's house. Vijay was very welcoming and accomodating, and after having made the overnight train journey from Jaipur to Bikaner, we quickly settled in at his house and prepared for our next adventure: camel safari!! Accompanying us on the safari was a random traveler from Ireland, Kristen. She was quite a talker but the four of us got along well and thoroughly enjoyed our venture into the desert. Riding a camel isn't as uncomfortable as one would imagine...and camels are just such silly-looking creatures! God must have been in a comical mood when he created them ;)  I'll always remember going to sleep under the stars, a heavy blanket shielding me from the cold wind of the desert night, the dunes and scrub bathed in light from the full moon. And being amused to learn that the toilet was on the other side of the dune...any dune.

Last stop on the trip was Goa. After a whirlwind three weeks, a calm three days at the beach was PERFECT. We literally did nothing but play in the ocean, walk on the beach, and lounge around on floaties. Hakuna matata.

The evening of April 23, we boarded our train to leave Goa. We woke up the next morning in beautiful, sunny, hot, humid, familiar, wonderful Kerala...my favorite part of all of 'incredible India' :)

"Love builds up the broken wall and straightens the crooked path. Love keeps the stars in the firmament and imposes rhythm on the ocean tides. Each of us is created of it and I suspect each of us was created for it." -Maya Angelou