Monday, July 27, 2009
Make the World a More Beautiful Place
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Paitrakam Community Library
With the help of fellow YAV, David Buco, and Christava Mahilalayam Public School, the library has a growing collection of English story books and Malayalam magazines. And this is only the beginning!
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
A Small Village of Happy People
Sunday, June 07, 2009
A Few Thoughts on Leaving
Monday, May 18, 2009
A Week in Mavelikara
By Sudie
To view pictures, visit my blog.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
A Glimpse at 'All India Tour'
Our time in Delhi, Agra, Mussoorie, Dharamsala, Amritsar, and Goa was a wonderful (and intense) discovery of India’s diversity. We witnessed new people, religions, languages, and landscapes, all of which contribute to the country’s rich and multi-faceted culture. As with our visit to Andhra Pradesh at Christmas, this tour highlighted Kerala’s relative development and offered new insight into the desperation of many of India’s citizens. For instance, in Kerala beggars (mostly adults who have lost an appendage or the ability to walk) frequent train and bus stations. Yet, in Delhi, beggars line street corners waiting for traffic to stop so they can approach auto-rickshaws and car windows. Many of these are children bearing the scars of abuse and mutilation - scars that will theoretically attract the sympathy of passengers. These people are evidence of a country that is becoming increasingly polarized; much like in the United States, the gap between India’s rich and poor is only widening.
Agra, the home of the country’s most majestic monument, was a striking example of the discrepancy between rich and poor. After an early morning visit to the Taj Mahal, Team India decided to scrap the city’s remaining tourist sites and visit ‘the real Agra.’ At this point we were traveling with Pulkit, my best friend from Miami University who is currently living in Delhi with his parents. As a Hindi speaker, Pulkit was able to explain to our auto-rickshaw drivers that we were traveling on a budget and preferred not to pay a fortune on entrance fees. Thus, they gave us a non-traditional tour including a riverside farm with a view of the Taj, a local Hindu temple, and a couple craft shops. This revealed a crumbling city full of laborers who have likely never been inside the gates of India’s main attraction. Yet the nation’s signs of poverty stand against a backdrop of immense natural beauty, rich history, and vibrant culture. India is a land of contrast.
To view my pictures from our ‘All India’ tour, visit my web album.
By Sudie
Also published at www.sudieniesen.com
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
A Passage to India
Also published at www.sudieniesen.com
Monday, March 23, 2009
I Bless the Rains Down in [India]
The summer rains (or ‘Mango Showers’) have returned a couple times since, bringing with them the promise of cooler mornings. In the midst of Kerala’s hottest season, such times are welcome moments of relief from the heat and humidity and offer the possibility of NOT sweating at 7:30 am. However, there is a much more important reason to welcome the rain . . . With insufficient rainfall during the last monsoon season, a water shortage has affected Kerala for the past several months. Although I have gone relatively unaffected, other YAVs have shared stories of getting into the shower to find they were missing an essential ingredient, or have lost water mid-bath (they resorted to water bottles). A few weeks ago, Lindsey’s school sent students home because there was not enough water to support everyone. The rain is certainly needed.
Such stories have made the global water crisis blatantly apparent. At home I was able to ignore this inconvenient truth; yes, I turned off the faucet while brushing my teeth and opted out of car washes, but the length of my showers went unchanged and I washed clothes when they weren’t actually dirty. The drought in Atlanta a few years ago did bring water concerns to the forefront, especially when I talked with my brother and sister-in-law about their attempts at conservation, but it was still business as usual in St. Louis. However, the view from the other side of the globe looks a bit different.
March 22nd was World Water Day. To mark the event, “The Hindu” (India’s English newspaper) had been running some articles pertaining to the water crisis. One discussed a free market system in Chile that allows multinational corporations to purchase water rights. As a result the public loses access to this basic necessity, and towns dry up with their water source. Reading this reminded me of a similar situation here in India, one I learned of from a documentary we watched with Achen soon after our arrival. Some of the country’s villages are facing problems of severe water scarcity. These do not come from insufficient rainfall (although I’m sure this doesn’t help), but from Indian subsidiaries of Coca-Cola whose bottling operations over-exploit and pollute water resources. Like in the towns of Chile, corporations here have left the people of forgotten villages thirsting for water.
As I learn more about the social factors affecting India, there is one thought that finds constant expression: the people of this world are deeply interconnected. Though we carry different passports and speak different languages, we are all members of one creation - a diverse community bound by common hopes, needs, and experiences. Yet, in our brokenness, we have lost sight of this connection, making decisions without knowledge or consideration of how they impact others. Right now we face the shared crisis of depleted water resources. For some this goes largely unnoticed, for others it is a daily reality. But as stewards of God’s creation, caring for the earth and all its people is a task of our global community.
In a many colored garden we are growing side by side,
We will rise all together, we will rise.
With the sun and rain upon us, not a row will be denied,
We will rise all together, we will rise.
We will rise like the ocean, we will rise like the sun,
We will rise all together, we will rise.
In our may colored fabrics made from strands of common thread,
We will rise all together, we will rise.
- From “Common Thread,” a song we sing at YAV retreats
Barrionuevo, Alexei. “A Chilean Town Withers in Free Market for Water.”
See also Srivastava, Amit. “Communities Reject Coca-Cola in India.”
Also published at www.sudieniesen.com
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Sri Lanka
Days 1 & 2: The City
We arrived in Colombo on Friday morning and immediately made our way to the guest house that Chenoa, a former India YAV and employee of the PC(U.S.A.) in Sri Lanka, had reserved for us. With a gracious hostess, an eclectic art collection, and impressive views of the city, our accommodations proved quite welcoming and we spent the majority of our first day in Sri Lanka resting and enjoying Colombo from our apartment balconies. We did venture out for meals with Chenoa, one at ‘The Cricket Club’ where we fed well-developed cravings for hamburgers and French fries.
Saturday was a day of low-key exploring with destinations including the city’s ocean-front, a Buddhist temple, and Victoria Park where Chenoa and other expatriates play ultimate Frisbee every Saturday afternoon. Some of the YAVs were brave and energetic enough to join in the fun . . . I occupied myself reading Harry Potter on the sidelines.
Days 3, 4, & 5: The Beach
By the time Sunday rolled around, the six of us were ready to trade in Colombo for the beach. We caught a bus to Hikkaduwa, a town south of Colombo that obviously caters to the tourist population. Here we capitalized on the ‘typical beach vacation,’ splitting our time between the ocean and seaside cafes (some of which had ‘real’ cappuccinos!). We spent two days in Hikkaduwa before heading even further south to a quiet and pristine beach at Marissa (in between Weligama and Matara).
Days 6 & 7: The Mountains
After a full day on buses, we found ourselves at the base of Adam’s Peak, a mountain located in Sri Lanka’s Central Highlands. A footprint-like rock formation near the summit has won this peak a place in all Sri Lanka’s commonly practiced religions: Buddhists believe the footprint belongs to Buddha, Hindus attribute it to Lord Siva, and Muslims see it as evidence of Adam’s first step on earth. Because of its religious significance (particularly to Buddhists), Adam’s Peak has become a pilgrimage site; devotees begin the 7 km trek at 2 am in order to reach the summit by sunrise, and then (many) spend the early hours of the day in prayer at the mountaintop shrine. For our last day in Sri Lanka, the six of us couldn’t pass up this opportunity.
As we hiked it became increasingly evident that this was a perfect activity to mark the YAV-year midpoint. I know I’ve previously used the ‘mountain metaphor’ in attempts to both visualize and explain this journey and, after experiencing the uphill climbs and pleasant views of our first six months, this image continues to feel appropriate. Adam’s Peak offered me an opportunity to frame this entire year within one 14+ kilometer hike.
I met the gradual incline of the hike’s beginning (September, October) with excitement and energy; I think all of us were (superficially) aware of the trail’s difficulty, but possessed a spirit of confidence that was stronger than any desire to turn back. A few kilometers up the mountain (November) the doubts started to set in. I had begun the hike with reckless abandon and my legs and stomach were now putting up a violent fight, threatening to fail me if I didn’t give them a chance at recovery. (A banana and some of John’s electrolytes proved a suitable remedy). Like they did during retreats and phone calls in November, fellow YAVs came to the rescue here on Adam’s Peak and provided some necessary reassurance and support that encouraged me to keep on trekking . . . And then it only got steeper. With the trail turning into one long staircase (December, January), I was beginning to wonder if I was crazy to even attempt the climb. Yet, at this point, we could look behind us to see a path of lights curving off into the distance, marking how far we’d come. The struggle melded with a feeling of accomplishment that motivated me to keep going. The final steps (February) felt like they were taking us closer and closer to the stars that still shone above, and the excitement of reaching the peak overshadowed the challenges we had faced to come this far. Of course, watching the night turn into day from atop the mountain reminded us that the climb was indeed worthwhile. Though I have only begun the downhill trek of my metaphorical journey, I imagine it will be something like my descent from Adam’s Peak: the pain will probably set in for brief moments, but it will be a time to take in a newly sun-lit landscape and rejoice in both the challenges and accomplishments of the experience.
By Sudie
To view pictures visit www.sudieniesen.com
Monday, February 09, 2009
On January
I’ve been a bad blogger. I apologize for neglecting you, my faithful readers, and for putting my parents and siblings in the position of explaining my absence. In my defense, a chain of events (including a ripped cable that denied all of Asia access to my blog, the Christmas holiday, my family’s visit, and a January due date for one graduate school application) did make it rather difficult to write. But that is really no excuse; I shall try to be better from now on. Although, I do not make any promises about my blog activity until I have completed another application . . . The posts starting with ‘My Aluva Family’ from December 8th should update you on the last 2 months. They are dated for the day they were written or should have been published.
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I partially blame my disappearance on what I am calling ‘The January Slump.’ I spent the first part of last month focused on life outside India . . . With the arrival of the Niesen clan, I distracted myself with the comfort of family; then my graduate school application steered me to thoughts of the future. On top of a ten-day holiday for Christmas, this made for a difficult transition back to life in my site. And this was not helped by an increasingly obvious realization that I am not called to be a teacher; while I love my students and my school, I was feeling rather burnt out with the routine. Ultimately these factors led me to be generally ‘un-present.’
For months I have been conscious of my need for self-care and have responded to my exhaustion by making room for relaxation and recovery. However, now I also realize that this sometimes became a convenient excuse for withdrawal. As a fellow YAV recently reminded me, fatigue is a symptom of culture shock (something which is still affecting us whether we admit it or not). The cruel reality is that, by retreating to my room to take rest, I both remove myself from the people with whom I must build relationships and prevent myself from claiming this community as ‘home.’ Thankfully, with this self-diagnosis, I can now make the conscious decision to reengage.
I am (I believe) confidently on the road to recovery. A relaxing and interesting January retreat to Wayanad, one of Kerala’s northern districts, gave me space to both process with fellow volunteers and reflect on my reasons for being in India. As I’ve mentioned before, a primary reason I applied to the YAV program is my commitment to social justice, and spending our retreat time with an organization called T.U.D.I (Tribal Unity for Development Initiative) reminded me of this passion. The staff of T.U.D.I. introduced us to the issues facing the Tribal or Adivasi communities in Kerala; much like the Native Americans in our own country, these people fell victim to waves of migration that both displaced them and forced them to adapt to foreign social and economic structures. As the government takes control of forests where the Tribal people have lived for centuries, their communities become increasingly disenfranchised; they lose all claims to the land and are left without the tools needed to function within dominant society. T.U.D.I. works to give them these tools and to preserve traditional Adivasi culture.
After retreat I was able to make some adjustments to my schedule at Christava Mahilalayam. I believe I’ve restructured my time in a way that will help me stay energized, and will save me from a relapse into the world of burnout. Even if I am not called to be a teacher for the long term, I am for this year. And each day in the classroom does teach me valuable life lessons that will better prepare me for future endeavors.
By Sudie Niesen
Also published at www.sudieniesen.com
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
December!
December! "Home"
It's a funny thing that I've planned to focus this entry around ideas and concepts of "home," and now I find myself sitting in front of my computer tonight treating myself to a pot of boxed turkey stuffing my family sent me for Thanksgiving, and Raspberry Crystal Lite... both things obviously from home. J Coincidence or proof of an active subconscious? Who knows?
This December was truly breaking the mold I have formed about what Christmas means. And I'm thankful. Christmas is always a time that our thoughts drift home – to Christmases past; memories of where we were, who we've shared it with, what we did or got, and of course how we felt. I found myself listening to Bing Crosby's rendition of "I'll be Home for Christmas" on my laptop long before I had expected myself to feel that it was absolutely necessary to do so. I counted them up, and it seems I attended, participated in, and gave speeches for 8 different Christmas programs this winter, and somehow it STILL didn't feel like Christmas! Maybe it was the small things that didn't line up with my mold, like the fact that Santa's face was red and he always had balloons on his head, or maybe that Christmas trees were often composed of a single branch broken off a large tree, stuck upright in the ground, and decorated with paper ribbons and stars, and of course balloons, making it more representative of the fourth of July in my mind, but it just didn't feel… well, holy.
I was beyond thrilled when I was recruited to sing Silent Night with a small group of wardens at the Mandiram Society's very own gathering. Carols are "a must" both here and in the US, but it had been difficult for me to get in the spirit without hearing any of the familiar tunes. We planned on singing it in Malayalam and English, but the minute Thomas Samuel Achen(The Pastor here who's helping me learn Malayalam) realized I knew it in Spanish, that was added to the program as well. Just in case you're curious, here's an attempt at what the "Ma-nglish" Malayalam verse sounds like(if you're not interested you're more than welcome to skip it and start with the next paragraph.):
Shahn-da-rawtree, Deevya rawtree.
Neeshchaloom, Jah jwalyoom.
Maryoom soo noowoom Moh da mohday.
Oh mahnuh Koonyee duh Shahnda nahyee.
Parlee-oorung-ee doonoo.
Swargee ah Shandee Ohday!
Singing this in Malayalam was the first time the season felt legitimate to me this year – the 85 degree weather could no longer mask the fact that it was almost Christmas! I finally felt like an active participant in a community proclaiming altogether, peace to the world and the great love of God now coming to us as something we could truly relate to; a human.
The next day I met up with the 5 other volunteers in India and headed off to another state to spend our actual Christmas. We arrived at the Parakal Missions in Warangal, the poorest district of Andhra Pradesh, joining an orphanage of 23 boys for the week of the occasion. What a blast! I was a bit in shock upon arrival about the living conditions in the area surrounding Home of Love, the orphanage, at least at first. Even in the slums of South America I had seen people living in scrap wood and sheet-metal houses, but never before in structures made of sticks and plastic bags, some of which I saw here. Anyway, it was phenomenal and humbling to be a part of this new and very different community for the holidays. I had a wonderful time playing with the boys, exchanging skits, songs and laughter, talking with the few staff that helped cook, clean, and such, and conversing with Sister Anna, the head of this orphanage. Sister Anna, a nun, is literally the sister of our India supervisor, Thomas John Achen, and we had plenty of time to get to talk with her about the institution, and the various other branches of the Parkal Missions there. For Christmas they were lucky this year and the orphanage was able to afford some small gifts for the boys; a new belt, some balloons to play with, and they were overjoyed J. The other volunteers and I decided to chip in and buy some sparklers to celebrate with at night, and we all had a fabulous time.
Christmas is not widely celebrated in Andrhe Pradesh as Christians are by far a minority, but my experience there was enormously powerful. While in Warangal we attended two church services, one across the street from the orphanage, and one about 45 minutes away in a small town. Both were wonderful and full of sincere singing and worship, but the latter completely blew me away. In this quite small, 4-walled, single roomed church, we crammed far more people than I believed possible. Save for one or two, all of the chairs were removed to maximize the seating on the floor, and the church still completely overflowed with people. Many of the people we encountered there were in tough straights for sure and probably had little or nothing materialistic to share this Christmas, including things like a nourishing meal. But they were happy and so was my heart.
Happy and broken. It REALLY hit home how materialistic we all are. Not to argue that there ever existed a perfect society at any time, but I feel that we have increasingly placed value on things and entertainment over dynamic relationships with people and God. More and more time, effort, money, and worry spent on things to impress amuse or temporarily comfort, but don't ultimately satisfy at all. We keep trying to buy and earn the fulfillment that is supposed to come free; we're just looking in the wrong places, or at least going about it the wrong way. We, myself included of course, need to step back and evaluate our motives for all of the things we do every day – what we spend our time, energy, and thoughts on and why. What does your day say about your priorities? Anyway, I'll get off my soap box now.
I did not open a single present on Christmas and to my surprise, I had absolutely no desire to do so. I just wished there was something, anything, I could do to bless these people the way they were blessing me. I was not at all without family this Christmas, as I had presumed I would be, rather I felt that the size of my family just exploded! What is "family" and what is "home" anyway? It goes a lot further than the obvious answer of the nuclear family unit and their residence, regardless of how meaningful that in itself may be(I know mine mean the world to me! ). God loves us unconditionally; ALL people, that is. Striving to love and care for each other as brothers and sisters is an act of gratitude to God and in our own best interest. There are countless verses about this in the Bible, for instance, "This is my commandment that you love one another, that your joy may be full." Did you get that? "that YOUR joy may be full"! To me family is those with whom you share love. I'd also like to take at look at 1 John 3:18, which tells us how to love: "Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and truth." Love is not idle, love can only show its true colors in practice among people, often meaning sacrifice, stepping out of your comfort zone, and effort. This new year, wherever you are, whoever you're with, make sure to show love to your "family," and may your joy be full! A VERY LATE Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all! Peace and Blessings,
Rebecca Mehl
*If you would like to practice loving long-distance "family" through finances, the Home of Love orphanage can always us the help. If you would like to be a sponsor or just learn more about it, please contact me at mehlre01@luther.edu with "Home of Love" in the subject line. They could really use your gifts!
*And as always, check out the most recent pictures at my blog: Namaste_Becca at travelblog.org if you're not viewing this via travelblog already. J
Tuesday, January 06, 2009
YAVindia.org at last! Life through November.
October 2008
My Dear, U.S.-residing(mostly), loved ones, J
I’m finding it unbelievably hard to comprehend that I wrote you less than a month ago – it seems like forever! So much has happened and so much will continue to change. Before I break into all of that, I just want to send out a thank you for the responses I received after the last letter; it truly brightens my week to hear from you and about home! I love, miss and am praying for you!
October started off with a bang – a grand visit to the overwhelming beauty displayed in the countryside of Munnar. Munnar is a portion of Kerala, famous for its breathtaking mountains and endless tea plantations, both of which I was privileged enough to visit. The 5 other volunteers and I had some time to get reacquainted and relax during this venture, as well as recount and discuss the various aspects of our volunteer experiences thus far. It was a truly refreshing experience. You can find photos attached to my blog if you’d like a glimpse.
Arriving back in Aluva, where my country coordinator lives, I was shocked with the news that the wife of my site supervisor(who had announced his resignation after 19 years only days before) had suddenly passed away. She was a vibrant, strong, and kind-hearted woman, the backbone of the backbone of Mandirams, and her absence has truly changed the feel of this place. Prayers, mourning, and funeral rituals for her lasted well into the week. Life has continued semi-normally since, especially after the installment of a new Mandirams Society Secretary, which eased some concerns.
It has gotten easier for me; spending time with the Appachens and Ammachees (mostly would-be destitute grandfathers and grandmothers). As always, it can be frustrating not being able to understand what is being said for 85% of my day, or even adequately communicate my own thoughts, but I am learning some Malayalam, and I have the help of more elderly individuals than you can count! Lol. Praise the Lord for their patience with me, and at times their willingness to talk to me even when they know I don’t understand. It makes things a lot less awkward and frustrating, that’s for sure! Some of them are unbelievable individuals, with the kind of faith, humor, or life stories you can hardly believe. A few even speak enough English to forge a conversation with me with little or no hand gestures! This is awfully exciting for me. There are also a few Appachens and Ammachees living in my own complex (people who have slightly better accommodations and pay some kind of rent) who speak fairly fluently, and I can often be found on their porches sharing tea in the afternoons. J Balika Mandiram, the girl’s orphanage, and the nursing school are both sources of joy and fatigue for me. After spending most of my day conversing with the Amachees and Appachens, serving meals, visiting patients at the hospital, learning Malayalam, and teaching English at the nursing school(only once or twice a week), I tutor the orphanage girls and help them with their homework – of course some more than others, for 1-2 hours before dinner. I love teaching, but it is tiresome. Please pray for a new full-time, resident-tutor for the girls. We just lost Veena, the previous tutor, as she returned to college, and we have no prospective replacement at the moment.
So life is going fine. I am adjusting and getting more comfortable with my role here, though beginning to miss home a little. I have been able to get out and explore a little more this month, which has been freeing and an experience I plan to continue having. I visited another volunteer at her site; Bishop Moore College, in Mavelikara for one weekend, as well as a Protestant Ashram (a small, nearly self-sustainable community dedicated to prayer, meditation and service), and attended an English church service, and an Traditional Christian Indian wedding(at which I met a priest from North Carolina –small world!). I explored some of Kottayam, the largest nearby town, last weekend, including a market, shops, a seminary, and a Hindu temple, or as much of it as they would let me see, with a peaceful but giant, free-roaming bull. Two weeks ago I also prepared and gave a half-hour sermon on “blessedness” in our small, but packed church, assisted and translated by one of the two pre-seminary volunteers.
All valuable and enriching experiences, as you might imagine. But despite all of the happenings and some chaos, I think my personal theme and challenge for the entirety of this month has been learning to just “be.” I’m one of those people that need to feel they’re accomplishing something all of the time or life loses its luster. My current responsibilities, however, don’t allow me to measure outcomes much. I serve meals, I teach some, but how do you know if that lesson really meant anything at all for those students’ lives, and I spend time with Amachees and Appachens. Try measuring achievement for that one, hahaha. I have had to take life at a slower pace, learning to value the moments of struggle and sympathy and discomfort, right along with the moments of laughter and contentment. I am learning to be satisfied in simply knowing that I’ve attempted to show love to another person, regardless of how simple, standard, or small the act feels, and no matter what the outcome of this action is… or isn’t.
I think it’s all part of God teaching me to be quiet, to be still, to stop being so quantifiably busy, because that sort of lifestyle, fairly subconsciously, has allowed me to fool myself. I’m realizing that when I can measure what I do, I feel that I have some small foothold of control; I have something tangible to show for myself, some result, some proof that shows what “I” had the power to do. Here, results of my “work” are pretty hard to gauge. “Did that Amachee see God in me today?” “Did I comfort her or merely bring her the frustration and confusion I so often feel? Maybe both?” “How much does what I did matter?” Lol. I don’t know all of the answers, but I can still have peace. God knows my heart and my intentions, and a terrifying freedom and comfort is found when you realize you truly don’t have control over the results of something. You have to leave it to God. All you can do is “be” in Him; finding true contentment just loving and serving to the best of your ability, and then trusting God to somehow make it meaningful and fruitful. Isaiah 55:10-11 has been a big encouragement for me this month when I’ve found it difficult to see results from my efforts:
“As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth; It will not return to me empty but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” I am confident this passage is not merely referring to the sharing spoken words through language(or I would be in big trouble with my limited Malayalam abilities), but more importantly the message of love and grace that comes through them, and this is exactly what I hope to share through my service in India.
Thank you for your thoughtfulness and prayers! I promise another letter with a better summary of what’s going on here at the Mandirams Society very soon!
November 2008
Greetings to All! This letter may be a little longer than the first, but I hope it will encourage and challenge you as well as give you some insight into the Mandirams society this month. Enjoy!
Thus far, I would venture to say that November is looking like my best month yet. I hope I am not speaking too soon in saying such but it has been a wonderful surprise, especially since November is the month volunteers typically find most difficult. I have been busy with many things; the daily life tasks of caring for the Amachees and Appachens, teaching English at the Leyamma Memorial Nursing school, and taking the place of the resident tutor for Balika Mandiram(the girls’ orphanage), as we await a replacement for the last. My Malayalam language lessons are fairing alright, and I am now able to communicate with others a number of the most basic needs and topics, such as the ever-essential, “Kudicho?” (Ma-nglish for “Have you had your tea?”). I can at least say that my ability to decipher the statements and questions directed toward me is improving greatly; using the few words I understand and my rapidly expanding mental index of context clues. J This month I even began tri-weekly, traditional dance lessons with one Amachee who had previously been an actual dance teacher! I’m afraid I look rather ridiculous attempting it, but by the time I return home, it should be completely bearable to watch. There are also additions to Mandiram this month, including 3 new wardens(pre-seminary students that are helping look after the residents as part of their training), making 5 pre-seminary or seminary students here altogether. Whew! It should be exciting to have so many young people around for a little while.
Throughout this month I have been inspired by a story Thomas Samuel Achen(means Pastor), told me during one of our meetings for learning Malayalam. The story begins in a church with one spirited man who felt so moved he could not contain his joyful but disruptive, “Praise the Lord!,” exclamations during services, and particularly sermons. Now, this church was expecting a very prestigious guest speaker who was not accustomed to this kind of response from an audience. Annoyed by the interruptions of his sermons, and fearful of how the guest might react to the continual exclamations in the coming week, the Pastor of the church came up with a plan. He took this opportunity to address the issue directly, pulling the man aside after church to meet with him. He promised the poor man a new pair of sandals if he would refrain from shouting, “Praise the Lord” every 5 minutes during the guest’s sermon. The poor man looked as his tattered sandals. He desperately needed new ones, but he insisted that he had no control over his actions – the Holy Spirit always overcame him. After much persuasion, finally he agreed. Sunday and the guest came, and all was quiet in the pews except for this one man as he kept shift in his chair, trying to restrain himself. Eventually one remarkable point was made in the sermon and the man could no longer contain what he felt. Shot to his feet and yelled, “Sandals or no sandals, Praise the Lord!”.
I initially just found the story a little amusing, but as my days have gone by, I’ve found myself thinking about it in many situations. Praise the Lord in all things. When I get up and lie down, when I go to serve meals, or do laundry in my bucket, or teach, or talk with the elderly… Praise the Lord. We should be thankful for life, every breath, every circumstance, in pain and in bliss, and make the most of what God has given us. Many times it is the Amachees and Appachens who remind me to praise the Lord. One elderly woman in particular, Susan, who was telling me about her life; the trials she faces, the problems she prays for that never seem to change…, but then stopped to add, “yet, how can I complain?! God gives me even the things I do not ask for. Did I ask to wake up this morning? Or for food or water? Or breath? No. But He has given me even these things I do not ask.” Shoes or no shoes, Praise the Lord! That is an open challenge for us all: Delight in the blessings we so often overlook instead of focusing only on our laments and endless wants! What can we thank God for today?
I am blessed to be forming good relationships with the girls at the orphanage, my neighboring residents, and all of the staff here at Mandirams, as well as with those I have met this month at such conventions as the Church of South India’s 92nd Annual Youth Conference, which I attended a few weekends ago. This convention is a full story all on its own, so if you’d like to hear about it sometime, let me know and we’ll chat. J The nursing school girls have been especially warm to me, and I even made a trip to the hostel(dorm) to spend some time with them, and attended a song and dance celebration they put on at their invitation.
Another point I would like to hit on this month is our need to recognize the common humanity and interconnectedness of all people. I have been constantly thinking about this unity of mankind this month, and it has been both disheartening and encouraging. Do we treat each other like the family of mankind that we are? Respect each other? Do we love one another the same way that Christ loved? Can we recognize our own face in those we deem different? In theory it is simple enough to comprehend; acknowledging the sameness of all people, but in practice it can be quite difficult. We like to distinguish ourselves from others by our differences instead of uniting ourselves with the commonalities.
Sometimes I have felt undeniably different from those I live, work, and interact with here. Taking into account differences in traditions, language, climate, financial situations, material resources, cuisine, customs, dress, and even gestures; it might be understandable that at times I have felt very alone and out of place. However, there are also the enlightening moments that shine light in the dark perception of separateness. One striking moment for me this month came during the surprise visit home of two of our orphans, as their boarding school let out one weekend for holiday. It turned out to be a great weekend and every one was happy to see the two girls home with the 6 that stay at the society throughout the school year. The night before they were to return to boarding school one of the two girls decided to attend the evening chapel service with me. She really doesn’t know English, and for the most part I don’t know Malayalam(which is the language the service is always in), but we worshiped side by side all the same. I thought about our differences sitting there; the kinds of family situations that may have brought her to the orphanage, the lack of stability she must feel without parents or really even a consistent solid figure in her life besides the Achen(Pastor) and his wife who just passed away, about her culture, about arranged marriages and the fact that she has no one to arrange for her or pay her dowry unless the Mandirams Society will, about her experience at the boarding school where all the girls are taught well but handled a bit impersonally cold and quite strictly, and about what her future holds. And as we sang in Malayalam, she began to cry. Unable, and no doubt hesitant to give any explanation, she was silent, and deciding there was no need for explanation I just held her hand and started to pray. Instantly I felt that we were no different at all. All of the differences I’d just considered vanished and we became sisters. Whatever pity I had felt turned became purely solidarity. I saw me in her. I saw everyone I know and love in her.
Different though our struggles may be, we all have them, and we feel and smile and cry the same. Though perspectives, lifestyles, and appearances may differ, we have more in common with each other than we can imagine. I challenge you to actually act like you believe that we are a common humanity. As Mark 12:30-31 says, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all you mind and with all your strength. Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no greater commandment than these.” Loving each other is indeed loving God, regardless of differences that may seem irreconcilable or alienating to you. Rarely do we actually want to see ourselves in the faces of others – it’s frightening, so we don’t see. Seeing all people as children of God would mean that we can no longer be complacent or indifferent. It requires us to take action, open ourselves, and step out of our comfort zones on behalf of others, often at personal cost. Admitting that we are the same means that we must take initiative to reach out to our neighbor; to actually try to understand others and treat them as we ourselves would want to be treated. What are your daily interactions with others saying about you?
I recommend that you keep a handful of humanizing memories(such as this recent one of mine), close at hand, ready to remind you of reality in the face of loneliness, doubt, or maybe worst, indifference toward others. When find yourself thinking that you have nothing in common with someone, or that they could never relate to you, remember that we are one creation. We give up on something beautiful when we decide others are just too unlike us to relate to. We are united in our experiences of problems, the same emotions, and many shared needs, including the need for God, and the needs for respect, dignity and love from each other. That’s right, we need each other. Let us consider how we can embrace those we usually neglect or ignore, and make an effort to love those we often disregard or slight, keeping in mind that each person’s wholeness is tied up with those of all others.
As for prayers, please pray that we would find a resident tutor for the orphanage girls, and also a main care-taker for them, as our Amachee has expressed a desire to retire from this position. Also pray for wholeness and peace for Balika Mandiram (the orphanage), as things have not been going so smoothly for the current Amachee and the girls. Food prices keep going up as well, and that is never good when you supply food for several hundred individuals 3 meals and tea each day. And finally, for the health, healing, and wholeness of all individuals here at Mandirams. I miss and love you all. I’ll write as I am able!!! Peace and blessings,
Rebecca Mehl
For pictures of my adventures and the society please visit http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/Namaste-Becca/
Settling In . . .
Mid November marked two months of living and working in my site placement. It's hard to believe how time flies! The first leg of this journey has taken me to some valleys and some hilltops, but mostly it has been a steady, deliberate, and fulfilling trek. After a couple weeks of mild floundering, I now feel settled; shops and buses no longer feel intimidating, navigating Aluva is feeling manageable, and the faces of those who live and work near U.C. College Junction (the closest 'landmark' to Chacko Homes) are becoming familiar. I have a routine, an address, and even a mobile number . . . It appears that I am carving out a life in Kerala.
Continued at www.sudieniesen.com
To be or not to be...
Read the rest and check for past blog posts at http://lindsey.journeytoindia.blogspot.com