IDENTITY

In my own limited scope, I would consider the people of India to be distinctively identifiable. Of course this tendency is not unique to India, but, perhaps I can see it more clearly in a country where the melting pot (of internationals) classification does not apply so extensively. Alas, India certainly has its own diversity. In many ways there is a huge disparity between the rich and poor, the educated and not, the male and female. Identifiable. The men in clothing dictated by their position. The young women in churidars, the older women in sarees. The dalit women often required to bare more midriff in their sarees. Some children dressed in their government school uniforms and other children in their private school uniforms. Then, of course, there is the Bindi dot for the young Hindus, with an additional mark near the hairline for the married women of this faith. There are the covered heads of Muslim women. The necklaces of marriage symbols, of prayers, of the cross. And ME, I am marked as well. Even behind my churidar and shawl, I remain a white girl. A foreigner. I cannot escape or change this identity. I cannot disown these things or pretend that I am not from a place of privilege, from a foreign land, of a different ethnicity. I cannot lose my identity but I suppose I can use my identity to change stereotypes and impressions that we present as an American culture. I can define myself - and my identity - by the love of God and the new creation that I am through the death of Christ.

SET

Our anachronistic arrival at the Mumbai airport felt strangely surreal. We had been traveling for one very long, continuous day which really consisted of something like two days and when we stepped off the plane it was going on 1 am. Thus, the airport was not the usual hustle-bustle that we are prone to find while traveling in the states. Beth, Rob, Laura and I sat on the cold floor and engaged in a card game called Set, which requires a great deal of thinking and concentration which, consequently, we were greatly lacking at the moment. It was not a game that could easily be followed without a deal of explanation, but as we continued on in the game we became acutely aware of the interested Indian observers that encircled us. Here we were, a clump of four wide-eyed and eager foreigners, enclosed by the night crew of the airport. What a beautiful welcome! We were united by a simple game that drew interest to the onlookers and the fascination of what is new. And, while our attempts to communicate were feeble, perhaps, there was an understanding that passed between us, providing a peaceful feeling to this long day.

It makes me think about how "set" in our ways we (including myself, of course!) can become. We are set in "the ways we've always done it." We are set in our political preferences, our social obligations, our grasp at what is "right." But maybe there is so much more than what we perceive as right and good, afterall our contexts are quite different. I think that is such a huge part of this experience. Learning to bridge the gaps between people and cultures. To step out from what is comfortable and be embraced by what is new and even "foreign." For me, this late-night airport adventure was a vivid reminder of the neccessity to form community and be open to the community that I will step into. I am surprised again and again, at the kindness that is offered in the most unlikely places. If I remain set, I perhaps will miss out on these transformative moments. I may not be entirely READY for what I will encounter, I hope that I am not too SET, but I will GO forward regardless!