Puddles.
More than halfway through the semester here in Madurai and I can’t figure out where the time is going. Since coming back from Long Tour we have completed classes and have had some awesome adventures, the highlight one being an at-dawn cycle ride out of town to Yannaimalai, a huge rock mountain that sticks out far above the flat surrounding countryside.
My alarm went off at 4:30am on Saturday morning. I lifted myself from bed super-tired… I think my body was a bit confused about why I was up long before the sun was. I quickly got dressed, ran downstairs with cycle key in hand and was greeted by my sleepy ammaa (mother, in Tamil). She let me out of the house (there are three locks to the house… all of which you need the key in the house for… therefore, someone is always home and always lets you in or out). I jumped on my bike and rode down the dark and eerily quiet main road to the SITA Center to meet the rest of the group. I have only ever seen that road bustling with activity, sounds, smells, organized craziness - so riding it under moonlight was totally refreshing and an experience far from the usual one. After meeting the group we biked by the light of the passerby bus or truck 12km … and into the stillness of a sleeping village. Once we arrived at the base of the mountain we hiked up … sometimes even scooting along ridges that were too steep to stand on… and climbing up fairly sheer rock… until we arrived at the top about 45 minutes later. As we hiked up the sky began to light up… and at the top we watched the sun rise over India. I lay on the rock, watching the sun rise, wishing I was no where else but there. No where else in the world.
A few days later we made a hike up another rock-mountain called Nagamalai. It was a far shorter hike, but so rewarding at the top. After walking up in the midday sun we arrived at the top where I let down my hair… let the hard breeze run through… and soaked in all that I could see around me. Countryside, rice paddies, Madurai-city in the distance, small villages, coconut trees.
A few days after our arrival back from Long Tour we had a Valentine’s Day dinner at the Center. Our program assistants and academic director made an incredible dinner of stuffed pasta, sautéed mushrooms, pomegranates seeds, and chocolate cake with peanut-butter frosting. We ate by candlelight, roses surrounding us, petals on the table, boxes of chocolates, and garlands upon garlands of flowers all around. It was something so far from India, but so unexpected and beautiful.
Just last Sunday we all attended a housewarming celebration for our Tamil teacher, Dr. Arun. His family is just completing a house out in the more countryish part of Madurai. Traditionally housewarmings are a very important event in the lives of Indians. Although not nearly as big as a wedding (which, I hear, are a spectacle - I still haven’t had the chance to attend one… but I think we are all going to go to one in the near future - they are sometimes week-long events with literally hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds (and it goes on…) of people in attendance). The housewarming had about 100 in attendance … not nearly what I think was expected, but most people couldn’t make it because it was Siva’s birthday day, a very important day for Saivite Hindus. The housewarming ceremony took place under a huge tent area made of wood and a thatched roof. After a ribbon-cutting ceremony of sorts there was a 45-minute talk from different people (a priest, as Dr. Arun is Christian, Dr. Arun’s father, Arun himself, and others)… Im not quite sure what on … but a lot of thank-yous to those who helped build the house and to those who were in attendance. After the ceremony we all were shuffled into another section of the tent where we enjoyed a huge meal - of rice, potatoes, all sorts of different gravies, lentils, vegetables, dessert, etc.. Afterward we got a tour of the house from Arun. It was an interesting experience to realize how big of a deal it was to have built this house. Houses usually stay in families for generations upon generations so rather than a place that may be occupied by the same family for a few years and then moved out of, this place will be the center of the family for a long time into the future.
There are a few cows that live right down my street. One day I was riding my cycle home and as I approached one of the cows a boy jumped way up high (from down low... milking the cow)and, with a big grin on his face, he waved and yelled "hi, hi, hi, hi, hi!!!"
Over the past week I have gotten to know my sisters quite a bit better. Although I don’t know the twins too well we have been playing lots of games … Scotland Yard seems to be their favourite… and I put on a movie night for them where we had popcorn, candy, cookies, and a viewing of Finding Nemo. The two older sisters and I have had many interesting talks on all different topics… from the perception of culture back to arranged marriage. One interesting thing that has been brought up a lot here is the issue of saying “thank you.” In our culture we are so ingrained to say thank you when someone does something for us, goes out of their way to serve us, for anything and everything. Therefore when I am served dinner I always thank my ammaa for it as 1. it’s dinner and delicious, and 2. i am being served… definitely not something I expect to have someone do for me. However, my sister told me that the use of thank you here is quite different. She said that it adds formality to the relationship. You may thank someone for something someone distant from you has done for you … but you don’t thank your family for things done because it creates a distance. I think this view is quite interesting and I am trying to limit my thank yous as they see me as one in the family and I don’t want to add a formality that isn’t needed… but not letting someone know how kind their actions and regarding them is quite hard. I don’t know if I will ever get used to it.
My sister and I also talked further about her arrangement for marriage. Aruna was arranged to be married, but, last December, broke the engagement. Although her parents were busy looking for another guy the first couple of weeks that I was here she asked them to wait until August to set up another engagement… that she didn’t want to marry so soon. Her parents granted her wish so they are not currently searching for a husband, but, come August, the search will be on, she will probably be arranged soon-after… and then it is hoped that she is married just a couple of months afterward. A bit of sadness overcame me talking to her just the other night. Aruna is a bright 22 year old who has studied in university, once lived in Bangalore with a job where she could provide for herself, and is involved in different sports, loves learning new things, a great chatter, fun to be around… and still a kid. I mean, she is just 1.5 years older than me - yet she will soon be married (not to mention that her parents want to marry Vannitha, my 19-year old sister, off soon after Aruna - She is still such a young woman. I can’t imagine.). She talked about how she wants a love marriage but the problem is that “I haven’t found love yet.” I told her she is just 22 years old. Many, most, 22 year olds haven’t. She also told me that even if she did fall in love she couldn’t marry her lover anyway. Although she said that her dad would most likely allow it, she doesn’t want to put him in a position to allow it because she knows how important it is to him that she marry into religion and caste. She said she’ll end up in an arranged marriage … though she doubts it will be good. She said that she is doing this because she knows that it is important for the family to have the first daughter to be arranged … the family will be looked upon well. However, because she is doing this for her parent’s sake she will fight hard for her sisters to have love marriages. She said she will back them up… fight for them to have one as hard as she can. She just wants them to be happy - even though she doubts she will be. Hopefully their joy can bring her happiness.
I have been also getting to spend a bit more time with my ammaa. Although she speaks little English my Tamil has been getting a bit better so that we can have simple conversation. Although nothing has been in-depth it is nice to hear about what she did that day or where she is going or what she is doing in the near future. I tell her about my day. I say anything and everything I can think of in Tamil. She says I speak beautifully. I think she wants me to feel good. She comments on it all the time. She is real happy. I just wish I could say more - tell her how much I appreciate her, her work in keeping the house together, her cooking, her care.
Last weekend we visited a small village about 1 hour outside of Madurai. There we spent the day learning about the village life. We walked the roads, looked at the agriculture, visited homes (including the president of the village), and, in the afternoon, played in the nearby river with lots of kids. Afterward we drank straight from tender coconuts under trees cooling us from the hot sun above. Although I enjoyed the day there I still have little understanding of the realities of life in an Indian village. I yearn to learn more about economic realities, caste realities, education, perception of the world outside the village gate. One thing that I didn’t observe but I have heard time and again is the importance of caste in a village. Caste and class are two separate categories, caste being your community which depends on ritual status, and class links to economics. In cities (actually, everywhere) class can be very apparent because it is visible: you can usually easily guess one’s class depending on dress worn or way of speech. However, caste isn’t so clear, and in cities many people don’t know the caste of others (as class and caste often don’t match up) and therefore those of different castes are usually not treated differently. However, in villages people know each other’s caste. The roads are set up by caste - the Brahmins occupy the main center road - the Dalits (or “Untouchables”) often occupy the outskirts of town. Dalits are often treated differently. In schools Dalit children must drink from a different cup than the Brahmin child does. Dalit children must sit in the back of the classroom, while the Brahmin children sit in the front. The hierarchy of Indian society is strongly visible in the countryside - the part of India where nearly 80% of her residents reside.
This morning I visited a small village, Pondikoil, very close to Madurai. Pondikoil is where the folk god Pondi resides. There is a temple there dedicated to him, as well as a temple dedicated to a brick (I am a little confused on the story behind this one…), and one dedicated to Karappu Sami, the village protector. It was a fascinating experience to observe people attending the temples on an auspicious day (Friday… Tuesdays are auspicious too… as well as every other day, object, or event here - auspicious, I think, is one of the most frequently used words here in India). There were hundreds and hundreds of people there. Many of them offering their hair to the god (shaving their head) or a goat sacrificed in thanks for something given to them (such as a newborn child or a quick health recovery). Lines of people waited to enter the temple of Pondi to give their offering to the god. Outside, surrounding the temple there were many possessed women. Women who seemed to lose all control of their body, screeching, jumping up and down, shaking violently. When this happens she is considered divine because Pondi is within her. People bow at her and touch her feet in respect. The energy of the women was overwhelming.
I am happy to be done with classes. Although I thoroughly enjoyed my class on Myth, Religion, and Art (and that grandfatherly professor), my socio-political class was more than dry even though so many interesting topics were brought up. For the conclusion of the classes we had to write final papers. For MRA I wrote a paper on Yoga and Myth; it is very common to find yoga and different definitions of yoga within myth. I talked about the myth that teaches that yoga is following one’s path… and another one that talks about yoga as living in the moment … walking while you walk… playing while you play. For socio-political issues I wrote a paper on the subordination and objectification of women in hierarchical Indian society. I focused on caste and class and socially-constructed gender roles: from what it means to be a girl child to the placement of women inside the home … and their role of serving men throughout their life. Although it was interesting to synthesize what we have learned in class into these papers, I am more than looking forward to the upcoming independent study project. My project is going to be on the correlation between child labour and compulsory education. Many studies have been done that correlate the implementation of education in an area to lower incidence of child labour; throughout history compulsory education has preceded the disappearance of child labour. I am interested in working with NGOs on this project, visiting factory inspections with them, meeting child labourers and child labourers in rehabilitation, and getting as much information as possible to come up with something constructive. Also I am planning on focusing my research on the city of Sivakasi, an area just a few hours from Madurai that is said to have one of the highest densities of child labourers in the world working on fireworks and match production. I have heard that in the area there are even specific schools that some child labourers (who are lucky enough to attend) attend; classes are scheduled to coincide with child labourer schedules. If anyone out there has information about Sivakasi or people contacts there or in Madurai or Tamil Nadu please let me know (attn: FTC/LT-types ).
This upcoming week we are going to have our second, and last tour. This time we are heading to Kerala, the other southern-most state of India. It is supposed to be absolutely beautiful … and due to its Communist-tendency past, the only state (I believe) with compulsory education, lowest rate of child labour, and highest literacy rate… just to name a few cool things it has going for it. We are going to be taking lots of boat rides through the backwaters of Kerala, hiking through nature, and visiting Cochin (which, interestingly, has a place called “Jew Town” - where Jews settled a while back - actually, I don’t know any of the history but Ill update you all on that too in my next entry - I am intrigued by the name alone).
The weather has been getting super-hot. Even my host-sister says so. And that is saying something. Everyday it has been mid to high 30s (upper 90s, I think)… and super-humid. But, they all say just wait. Just wait a few more weeks. Then I will learn what hot means. This is the beginning of summer season… a season of hot and muggy weather… and tiny bits of rain. My host sister has told me that in the 3 months of hot summer there may be 1 or 2 days of rain … if that. But, today it rained. It is raining as I type. I can’t be more excited. It is the first time I have seen rain in months … I ran out side… and jumped in the puddles and twirled around while looking up at the sky pouring down. Thunder and lightening. I am more than soaking wet. The streets are flooding. Children can be heard screaming all around. The air is scented with tropical flavour. The water ran warm down my hair and back. My feet, barefoot, were more than ecstatic to be in puddles. Today is a good day. A good end to classes. A good beginning for all the newness that is to come.
Thank you for the snail-mail, emails, comments…. It has been great hearing from you despite my lack of good correspondence and updating this semester.
At least this journal entry has a bit more information inside - I’ll try and keep up with it a bit better over the next two months.
Until then…Live it up,
Live in the moment,
Be yogic,
love,
meg
My alarm went off at 4:30am on Saturday morning. I lifted myself from bed super-tired… I think my body was a bit confused about why I was up long before the sun was. I quickly got dressed, ran downstairs with cycle key in hand and was greeted by my sleepy ammaa (mother, in Tamil). She let me out of the house (there are three locks to the house… all of which you need the key in the house for… therefore, someone is always home and always lets you in or out). I jumped on my bike and rode down the dark and eerily quiet main road to the SITA Center to meet the rest of the group. I have only ever seen that road bustling with activity, sounds, smells, organized craziness - so riding it under moonlight was totally refreshing and an experience far from the usual one. After meeting the group we biked by the light of the passerby bus or truck 12km … and into the stillness of a sleeping village. Once we arrived at the base of the mountain we hiked up … sometimes even scooting along ridges that were too steep to stand on… and climbing up fairly sheer rock… until we arrived at the top about 45 minutes later. As we hiked up the sky began to light up… and at the top we watched the sun rise over India. I lay on the rock, watching the sun rise, wishing I was no where else but there. No where else in the world.
A few days later we made a hike up another rock-mountain called Nagamalai. It was a far shorter hike, but so rewarding at the top. After walking up in the midday sun we arrived at the top where I let down my hair… let the hard breeze run through… and soaked in all that I could see around me. Countryside, rice paddies, Madurai-city in the distance, small villages, coconut trees.
A few days after our arrival back from Long Tour we had a Valentine’s Day dinner at the Center. Our program assistants and academic director made an incredible dinner of stuffed pasta, sautéed mushrooms, pomegranates seeds, and chocolate cake with peanut-butter frosting. We ate by candlelight, roses surrounding us, petals on the table, boxes of chocolates, and garlands upon garlands of flowers all around. It was something so far from India, but so unexpected and beautiful.
Just last Sunday we all attended a housewarming celebration for our Tamil teacher, Dr. Arun. His family is just completing a house out in the more countryish part of Madurai. Traditionally housewarmings are a very important event in the lives of Indians. Although not nearly as big as a wedding (which, I hear, are a spectacle - I still haven’t had the chance to attend one… but I think we are all going to go to one in the near future - they are sometimes week-long events with literally hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds (and it goes on…) of people in attendance). The housewarming had about 100 in attendance … not nearly what I think was expected, but most people couldn’t make it because it was Siva’s birthday day, a very important day for Saivite Hindus. The housewarming ceremony took place under a huge tent area made of wood and a thatched roof. After a ribbon-cutting ceremony of sorts there was a 45-minute talk from different people (a priest, as Dr. Arun is Christian, Dr. Arun’s father, Arun himself, and others)… Im not quite sure what on … but a lot of thank-yous to those who helped build the house and to those who were in attendance. After the ceremony we all were shuffled into another section of the tent where we enjoyed a huge meal - of rice, potatoes, all sorts of different gravies, lentils, vegetables, dessert, etc.. Afterward we got a tour of the house from Arun. It was an interesting experience to realize how big of a deal it was to have built this house. Houses usually stay in families for generations upon generations so rather than a place that may be occupied by the same family for a few years and then moved out of, this place will be the center of the family for a long time into the future.
There are a few cows that live right down my street. One day I was riding my cycle home and as I approached one of the cows a boy jumped way up high (from down low... milking the cow)and, with a big grin on his face, he waved and yelled "hi, hi, hi, hi, hi!!!"
Over the past week I have gotten to know my sisters quite a bit better. Although I don’t know the twins too well we have been playing lots of games … Scotland Yard seems to be their favourite… and I put on a movie night for them where we had popcorn, candy, cookies, and a viewing of Finding Nemo. The two older sisters and I have had many interesting talks on all different topics… from the perception of culture back to arranged marriage. One interesting thing that has been brought up a lot here is the issue of saying “thank you.” In our culture we are so ingrained to say thank you when someone does something for us, goes out of their way to serve us, for anything and everything. Therefore when I am served dinner I always thank my ammaa for it as 1. it’s dinner and delicious, and 2. i am being served… definitely not something I expect to have someone do for me. However, my sister told me that the use of thank you here is quite different. She said that it adds formality to the relationship. You may thank someone for something someone distant from you has done for you … but you don’t thank your family for things done because it creates a distance. I think this view is quite interesting and I am trying to limit my thank yous as they see me as one in the family and I don’t want to add a formality that isn’t needed… but not letting someone know how kind their actions and regarding them is quite hard. I don’t know if I will ever get used to it.
My sister and I also talked further about her arrangement for marriage. Aruna was arranged to be married, but, last December, broke the engagement. Although her parents were busy looking for another guy the first couple of weeks that I was here she asked them to wait until August to set up another engagement… that she didn’t want to marry so soon. Her parents granted her wish so they are not currently searching for a husband, but, come August, the search will be on, she will probably be arranged soon-after… and then it is hoped that she is married just a couple of months afterward. A bit of sadness overcame me talking to her just the other night. Aruna is a bright 22 year old who has studied in university, once lived in Bangalore with a job where she could provide for herself, and is involved in different sports, loves learning new things, a great chatter, fun to be around… and still a kid. I mean, she is just 1.5 years older than me - yet she will soon be married (not to mention that her parents want to marry Vannitha, my 19-year old sister, off soon after Aruna - She is still such a young woman. I can’t imagine.). She talked about how she wants a love marriage but the problem is that “I haven’t found love yet.” I told her she is just 22 years old. Many, most, 22 year olds haven’t. She also told me that even if she did fall in love she couldn’t marry her lover anyway. Although she said that her dad would most likely allow it, she doesn’t want to put him in a position to allow it because she knows how important it is to him that she marry into religion and caste. She said she’ll end up in an arranged marriage … though she doubts it will be good. She said that she is doing this because she knows that it is important for the family to have the first daughter to be arranged … the family will be looked upon well. However, because she is doing this for her parent’s sake she will fight hard for her sisters to have love marriages. She said she will back them up… fight for them to have one as hard as she can. She just wants them to be happy - even though she doubts she will be. Hopefully their joy can bring her happiness.
I have been also getting to spend a bit more time with my ammaa. Although she speaks little English my Tamil has been getting a bit better so that we can have simple conversation. Although nothing has been in-depth it is nice to hear about what she did that day or where she is going or what she is doing in the near future. I tell her about my day. I say anything and everything I can think of in Tamil. She says I speak beautifully. I think she wants me to feel good. She comments on it all the time. She is real happy. I just wish I could say more - tell her how much I appreciate her, her work in keeping the house together, her cooking, her care.
Last weekend we visited a small village about 1 hour outside of Madurai. There we spent the day learning about the village life. We walked the roads, looked at the agriculture, visited homes (including the president of the village), and, in the afternoon, played in the nearby river with lots of kids. Afterward we drank straight from tender coconuts under trees cooling us from the hot sun above. Although I enjoyed the day there I still have little understanding of the realities of life in an Indian village. I yearn to learn more about economic realities, caste realities, education, perception of the world outside the village gate. One thing that I didn’t observe but I have heard time and again is the importance of caste in a village. Caste and class are two separate categories, caste being your community which depends on ritual status, and class links to economics. In cities (actually, everywhere) class can be very apparent because it is visible: you can usually easily guess one’s class depending on dress worn or way of speech. However, caste isn’t so clear, and in cities many people don’t know the caste of others (as class and caste often don’t match up) and therefore those of different castes are usually not treated differently. However, in villages people know each other’s caste. The roads are set up by caste - the Brahmins occupy the main center road - the Dalits (or “Untouchables”) often occupy the outskirts of town. Dalits are often treated differently. In schools Dalit children must drink from a different cup than the Brahmin child does. Dalit children must sit in the back of the classroom, while the Brahmin children sit in the front. The hierarchy of Indian society is strongly visible in the countryside - the part of India where nearly 80% of her residents reside.
This morning I visited a small village, Pondikoil, very close to Madurai. Pondikoil is where the folk god Pondi resides. There is a temple there dedicated to him, as well as a temple dedicated to a brick (I am a little confused on the story behind this one…), and one dedicated to Karappu Sami, the village protector. It was a fascinating experience to observe people attending the temples on an auspicious day (Friday… Tuesdays are auspicious too… as well as every other day, object, or event here - auspicious, I think, is one of the most frequently used words here in India). There were hundreds and hundreds of people there. Many of them offering their hair to the god (shaving their head) or a goat sacrificed in thanks for something given to them (such as a newborn child or a quick health recovery). Lines of people waited to enter the temple of Pondi to give their offering to the god. Outside, surrounding the temple there were many possessed women. Women who seemed to lose all control of their body, screeching, jumping up and down, shaking violently. When this happens she is considered divine because Pondi is within her. People bow at her and touch her feet in respect. The energy of the women was overwhelming.
I am happy to be done with classes. Although I thoroughly enjoyed my class on Myth, Religion, and Art (and that grandfatherly professor), my socio-political class was more than dry even though so many interesting topics were brought up. For the conclusion of the classes we had to write final papers. For MRA I wrote a paper on Yoga and Myth; it is very common to find yoga and different definitions of yoga within myth. I talked about the myth that teaches that yoga is following one’s path… and another one that talks about yoga as living in the moment … walking while you walk… playing while you play. For socio-political issues I wrote a paper on the subordination and objectification of women in hierarchical Indian society. I focused on caste and class and socially-constructed gender roles: from what it means to be a girl child to the placement of women inside the home … and their role of serving men throughout their life. Although it was interesting to synthesize what we have learned in class into these papers, I am more than looking forward to the upcoming independent study project. My project is going to be on the correlation between child labour and compulsory education. Many studies have been done that correlate the implementation of education in an area to lower incidence of child labour; throughout history compulsory education has preceded the disappearance of child labour. I am interested in working with NGOs on this project, visiting factory inspections with them, meeting child labourers and child labourers in rehabilitation, and getting as much information as possible to come up with something constructive. Also I am planning on focusing my research on the city of Sivakasi, an area just a few hours from Madurai that is said to have one of the highest densities of child labourers in the world working on fireworks and match production. I have heard that in the area there are even specific schools that some child labourers (who are lucky enough to attend) attend; classes are scheduled to coincide with child labourer schedules. If anyone out there has information about Sivakasi or people contacts there or in Madurai or Tamil Nadu please let me know (attn: FTC/LT-types ).
This upcoming week we are going to have our second, and last tour. This time we are heading to Kerala, the other southern-most state of India. It is supposed to be absolutely beautiful … and due to its Communist-tendency past, the only state (I believe) with compulsory education, lowest rate of child labour, and highest literacy rate… just to name a few cool things it has going for it. We are going to be taking lots of boat rides through the backwaters of Kerala, hiking through nature, and visiting Cochin (which, interestingly, has a place called “Jew Town” - where Jews settled a while back - actually, I don’t know any of the history but Ill update you all on that too in my next entry - I am intrigued by the name alone).
The weather has been getting super-hot. Even my host-sister says so. And that is saying something. Everyday it has been mid to high 30s (upper 90s, I think)… and super-humid. But, they all say just wait. Just wait a few more weeks. Then I will learn what hot means. This is the beginning of summer season… a season of hot and muggy weather… and tiny bits of rain. My host sister has told me that in the 3 months of hot summer there may be 1 or 2 days of rain … if that. But, today it rained. It is raining as I type. I can’t be more excited. It is the first time I have seen rain in months … I ran out side… and jumped in the puddles and twirled around while looking up at the sky pouring down. Thunder and lightening. I am more than soaking wet. The streets are flooding. Children can be heard screaming all around. The air is scented with tropical flavour. The water ran warm down my hair and back. My feet, barefoot, were more than ecstatic to be in puddles. Today is a good day. A good end to classes. A good beginning for all the newness that is to come.
Thank you for the snail-mail, emails, comments…. It has been great hearing from you despite my lack of good correspondence and updating this semester.
At least this journal entry has a bit more information inside - I’ll try and keep up with it a bit better over the next two months.
Until then…Live it up,
Live in the moment,
Be yogic,
love,
meg