Where in the World is Sudie?
Archive for November, 2008
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.
I credit the people of Aluva with making my transition a smooth one. At orientation former YAVs cautioned us to expect periods of loneliness and boredom during our year; after all, such experiences are commonplace while engaging in a ministry of presence in a foreign land. Thus far, however, I have been fortunate to rarely stumble upon these emotions. The community here is one with tenuous borders – borders that have expanded freely to let me in. Everyday I see faces light up at my presence, and this excitement persists through all situations. I worry that my cultural naiveté will prove burdensome to those I seek out for guidance, but even this does not detract from my new friends’ eagerness to welcome me into their communities. I came to India with the intention of serving others, but I’m learning that an essential part of the volunteer experience is developing the grace to be served as well.
However, I would misrepresent myself by leading you to believe my experience has yielded only contentment, and I would be foolishly optimistic to assume that this year will pass effortlessly. During the initial weeks of adjustment, there were times that I truly did feel alone. Frankly, after seeing the other YAVs off to their respective sites on September 15th, I spent a tearful first evening in Chacko Homes thinking, ‘Sudie, what have you gotten yourself into?’ Thankfully, these moments have always been short-lived and were usually interrupted by a knock on the door or someone crossing the room to greet me.
Now, even though I feel acclimated and comfortable, Aluva does not yet feel like ‘home.’ The people here have openly embraced me, but the differences of language and culture still act as barriers that prevent me from feeling truly settled. I find that forming relationships is simultaneously delightful and arduous, something I attribute to two main factors. First, including Christava Mahilalayam, the Blind School (where I join fellow YAV, David, for lunch), Chacko Homes, the Dalit Community, and the church I attend, I regularly interact with five different communities. Thus, there are not enough hours in the day (or the week) to visit with all the people that have invited me into their lives. Second, even when speaking with those who are practically fluent in English, conversation often moves at half my regular pace and I spend a disproportionate amount of time explaining myself.
In the various transitions I have made since I graduated from high school, I have relied on circles of close friends to help me ‘create homes’ in new places. These have been the people I turn to for support, for rejuvenation, and for comfort. Yet, with the reality of my situation in Aluva, I find that establishing an intimate group of friends is a difficult task. This sometimes does contribute to the feelings of loneliness that manage to creep up on me. However, despite this, I’m surprisingly comfortable with the atypical composition of my present social network . . . something that stems from realizing the nature of my role in this place. As a volunteer, I am not here to form relationships that fulfill my own needs - I am here to be present with the people of my new community.
Assuming this role is already teaching me a valuable lesson: that self-care is an important consideration in any form of ministry. With a teaching schedule that keeps me occupied from 8:00-5:00 on weekdays and a consistent flow of invitations that fill the evenings and weekends, it is easy to become exhausted. Sometimes the demands on my time feel a bit overwhelming, and I worry that I will push myself too hard now, only to burn out later. Thus arises a tension that I sense will be central to my YAV experience: finding a balance between caring for those in the community I serve and caring for myself. This is currently my greatest challenge, but I am beginning to discover a system that will allow me to contribute the most effectively. Needless to say, I am learning the value of placing boundaries on my time. And, although my schedule does require some more adjustment, I am starting to balance it with things that energize me.
And, even though the relationships I have formed do not resemble those I’ve made in other periods of transition, my new community is eager to care for me. Individuals constantly go out of their way to make sure I feel welcome and comfortable. My new friends have prepared me meals at inconvenient times, come to school bearing gifts of chapathi and motha curry (one of my favorite breakfasts), and sent me home with packages of nuts to ensure I’m never caught hungry. They have escorted me to bus stops to see me home safely, they have come along when I needed someone to translate. Most importantly, they consistently ask how I’m doing, and meet me with a smile. I am thankful for these gestures of love, and for the ministry of presence my community provides me. And, with time, the boundaries of culture and language will surely disappear, leaving only friendships I will hate to part with come next July.
Read comments (0)If there is one thing my participation in the YAV program has already taught me, it is that generosity abounds . . .
Generosity has met me everyday since my arrival in India. I’ve witnessed it when families invite me into their homes to share a meal or a cup of chaya, when people switch to their (often limited) English in order to communicate with me, and (most importantly) when individuals overlook my status as the stranger in order to see me as a friend. Often this generosity comes from people who I know possess far less than I do. Yet, it always comes freely, and with a warm and genuine smile. The display of generosity certainly did not begin when I set foot in India; from the moment I learned of my site placement last April, I encountered it with every step I took toward my departure. And now, I am thrilled to announce . . .With the gifts and pledges I have received, I have met my fundraising goal of $10,000!
The outpouring of support I have received is incredible! Your gifts have made my participation in the YAV program possible, and I am extremely grateful to have you as partners in this experience. The community of support you have formed has already become an ever-present source of strength and encouragement. Thank you all for including me in your ministry!
(For any who still wish to contribute, further donations support the YAV program as a whole.)
I am in awe of Indian dance; this is an art form that utilizes costume, makeup, music, and choreography to create one of the most intricate and beautiful performance traditions I have ever seen.
As I am learning from a book titled Indian Theatre (a recent addition to my bookshelf) there is no easy way to classify Indian performance traditions. Unlike Western theatre that (generally) enjoys neatly-defined categories, India’s traditions fall within a spectrum from classical to modern, with styles that flow together and create complex amalgamations of dance, music, storytelling, and ritual.
For the past few weeks, I have spent many of my free periods at school watching some of my students prepare a piece for the folk dance competition at a local youth festival. Folk dances, as the introduction to Indian Theatre explains, are “characterized by immediate accessibility, by vitality and exuberance, and by readily communicable modes and messages of performance” (9). These dances are predominantly secular, adopting much from the classical style but telling stories that appeal to the masses. Under the leadership of James Sir (who is also teaching me), my students danced to a Malayalam song about overcoming the vices that attempt to destroy the motherland. Their dance told the story of a mother who sends her son out to play, only to have a demon snatch him away. After fruitless searching, the mother begs the demon to return her child, offering her eyes as a sacrifice. Taking advantage of her blindness, the demon attempts to fool the mother, offering a statue instead of her son. The mother retaliates, threatens to curse the demon, and ultimately wins back her child.
The two groups from Christava Mahilalayam gave beautiful performances and ended up taking first and second places in their respective age groups! I was extremely proud of them for their hard work. Here are a few pictures of the younger group (from standards 3 and 4):
(Richmond, Ferley P. and Darius L. Swann and Phillip B. Zarrilli, Eds. Indian Theatre: Traditions of Performance. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, 1993.
[Three of my students, waiting as the others get costumed and made-up
[Sruthi (top) and Anjala (bottom), receiving the final touches to their make-up]
[Showtime]
[The demon, on the prowl]
[The mother, frightened of the demon who has stolen her child
[Helen slays the demon]
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