Where in the World is Sudie?
Archive for July, 2009
[With 3 of the teachers from Christava Mahilalayam Public School]
Today was my last day at Christava Mahilalayam Public School . . . The inevitable task of saying ‘goodbye’ has arrived, and with it has come a realization: that language is a truly inadequate means of expression. Words can not communicate the feelings of gratitude, fulfillment, loss, and joy that I am currently feeling, nor can they describe how deeply a part of me Kerala has become. And yet, words seem to be the only medium I have . . . Here is the letter that I read to the students and staff of Christava Mahilalayam during this morning’s assembly:
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As a child my favorite book was Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney. It is the story of a little girl named Alice whose grandfather tells her there are three things she must do with her life: travel the world, live by the ocean, and make the world a more beautiful place. Of course, I do not solely credit Miss Rumphius with shaping my life ambitions. However, as a person who loves the ocean, yearns to travel the world, and has a commitment to facilitating change, I do strongly identify with Alice’s journey and the goals that guide her experience. When Alice Rumphius aims to complete her final task of making the world more beautiful, she does so by planting lupines throughout her community; my idea of beautifying the world tends toward other methods of planting seeds - through an active commitment to social justice, advocacy for the marginalized, fostering relationships, and service.
The goals I share with Alice Rumphius are the same ones that led me to India. I came here fueled by a hope that steers so many young adults toward volunteer service: the hope that I can, indeed, make a difference. During my period of preparation last summer, I imagined a year in which I would contribute to the needs of India’s people. In addition to a 12-month supply of sunscreen, I packed hopes of helping underprivileged children and women’s groups take strides toward creating change in their communities. Yet, as I settled into relationships and this culture’s way of life, I realized that Kerala was changing me far more than I would ever change it.
When I arrived at Christava Mahilalayam Public School eleven months ago, a group of students welcomed me at the gate with excited smiles and warm ‘hellos’. This was the first of many displays of genuine hospitality, something I have come to identify as the most beautiful aspect of Keralite culture. Never before have I been in a place where people stop you on the street to offer a cup of tea, where children share their food with strangers on crowded trains, where families offer to buy extra beds so they can host you and your friends. Members of this community have prepared me meals at inconvenient times, come to school bearing gifts of chapathi and motta curry, and sent me home with packages of nuts to ensure I’m never caught hungry. You have presented me with gifts of flowers, escorted me to bus stops to see me home safely, and come along when I needed someone to translate. Most importantly, you consistently ask how I’m doing, and meet me with a smile. By welcoming me so openly, you have offered the most gracious gift a foreigner can receive: a true sense of home. These acts of hospitality have taught me so much about fostering relationships and building community.
In a few days I return to the United States – a country that typically sees tangible results as the only measure of success. Just as I left with expectations about all I would contribute during my volunteer year, I imagine I will return home to many questions about what I accomplished. And while the achievements are important, the stories I share will be of a people who welcomed me into their homes, their communities, and their lives. Through your amazing ability to welcome the stranger, you have given me the tools to eventually achieve the third goal I share with Alice Rumphius – the goal of making the world a more beautiful place. But, more importantly, you have given me new eyes to see how much beauty already exists.
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Thank you to all who have traveled with me during this journey.
Read comments (0)It is with great joy that I announce the inauguration of Paitrakam (Heritage) Community Library! As is the tradition in Kerala, we celebrated this new beginning with a small ceremony, including the lighting of the Vilakku (lamp) and an address by our chief guest, Prof. K.K. Abraham.
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! I am so thankful for the way my home community has embraced this project - offering encouragement, spreading the word, and mailing off boxes of books. Achen will deliver these upon their arrival. Though I will not be here to watch it take root, I will follow the library’s growth with great joy from half-way around the world.
Thank you for making this a reality.
[Chief Guest, Prof. K.K. Abraham, lights the lamp]
[Lighting the lamp]
[Geena with the Paitrakam Community Library]
[Some of the community children]
[with some of the community children]
[with the mothers of some of the children I tutor]
Every Wednesday and Thursday evening, I head to the Dalit (Untouchable) Community that lies across the street from Chacko Homes. There I join a small group of children and teenagers on one of their porches; they gather every day after school for ‘tuition class’ – a time when one of the community members voluntarily helps the children with their homework. When I can, I assist with English writing assignments or read with the children to help them grasp the complexities of pronunciation. On days when homework loads are lighter, we work on conversation skills or simply play together. This is the place in Aluva where I have found the most joy.
Last week the mother of two of the tuition class children shared a rather accurate comment: “We’re a small village of happy people.” This is a community that keeps its doors open; neighborhood children (who have become like siblings) claim the road for games of cricket or badminton, and adults spend their evenings perched on rock walls talking together. This has created a space of vibrant energy and sincere friendliness. Whenever I walk down the road into the Dalit Community, I arrive to screams of Chechi (older sister) and waves or handshakes - usually from adults who speak no English at all.
Most of the adults who live in the Dalit Community are auto-rickshaw drivers, laborers, cooks, or cleaning ladies . . . When I opt for a rickshaw ride into town, it is often the father of one of the tuition class students who drives me. And the woman who cleans my room at Chacko Homes also hosted the tuition class on her porch last year. Their children attend government-funded schools, all of which use the Kerala state syllabus and conduct classes in Malayalam. This community is predominately Hindu, and most families designate a corner of their homes as shrines to favorite Gods and Goddesses. Their religious affiliation, I’m sure, is mostly a product of tradition and devotion. However, it may also be a result of legal consequence: with conversion, Dalit people lose recognition as members of a scheduled caste and, with it, all the benefits of affirmative action by the government, associated with their deprived caste status.
The material poverty in which my friends in the Dalit Community live is shocking to Western eyes; when I first walked into their homes in September it was impossible to overlook the size and relative emptiness of their concrete block houses. I think these tangible factors are easy for us to fixate on as the most identifiable signs of economic injustice. But the real tragedy of the Dalit people’s situation lies not in a lack of material possessions, but in a lack of opportunity, especially in terms of education. The children I tutor use state-issued textbooks rife with grammatical errors that keep them grade-levels behind their peers at private institutions (like Christava Mahilalayam). And, while Union Christian College holds seats for them upon their completion of secondary school, most will not matriculate due to insufficient knowledge of the English language. It has been my hope that the supplementary English practice will better equip them to pursue a college education, but I am also realizing a need for resources . . .
We are creating a library for the children of the Dalit Community. I will purchase a metal wardrobe to house the books, and have gone shopping with the children for some necessary items (such as an English-Malayalam Dictionary). But I also need your help! . . . I am requesting English books to contribute to this ‘community bookshelf.’ The tuition class children range from grades 4 – 12, but because of their current reading levels, I think books geared toward children from Kindergarten to 8th Grade would be the most useful. Additionally, because of the sensitivity surrounding religion, I ask that these be secular stories. If you are interested in sending along a book or two, please leave a comment on this post and I will email you the mailing address.
As always, I am so grateful for your continuous support in all its various forms.
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