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/
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