This week I have created a small simulation activity for myself. I want to know what it is like to live on a dollar a day. In NO way do I think that I am truly living this life in full solidarity with the people who find this to be their livelihood. After all, I have a kitchen to use, clean clothes and a roof over my head. That is certainly not the case for all. But I am very curious to see how far money goes in buying foods and if it is possible to achieve any resemblance of a nutritious diet on such a limited resource. I will track each day and explain what I ate.
To the market....
I will admit that it was quite a frustrating and humbling trip to the market! I went yesterday to prepare for the week. I spent six of my seven dollars (or 3500 colonnes) and came up with very little to show for myself. However, I did my best to pick the fresh foods and the whole grains. Every Saturday there is a market here so I wanted to stock up on these local foods that will probably be the most nourishing and least expensive. One of the tough parts was not having enough to buy in larger quantities which the majority of vendors preferred. The only protein I could afford was a very small bag of beans. I could not even spare the money to buy a loaf of bread. I think that was the thing that sunk in the most! Kind of makes me hear a bit more fervor in the supplication gave us this day our daily bread
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Space
I am not sure what cardinal sin it is to move to Costa Rica and not like coffee. But, in just a few days here I have come to appreciate the plant and beans in a way far more meaningful to me than a mere cup of joe; more simply, I have come to really know coffee. To me, prayer is a space- a space to engage God and be in community with creation. I find myself in constant search of a physical space to encounter this metaphysical space. We'll call it a labrynth. But not simply a maze or a garden designated for prayer-- a place amidst the creation that allows my heart and mind to wander. A space where I can become lost in thought and conversation while remaining mindless to the path before me or the direction of my footsteps. I have discovered that my home here rests on the perimeter of a finca ('little farm') consisting of endless rows of coffee plants. As I wander among these stocky green bushes, teeming with red and black buds just aching to provide the world with a vehicle for awareness, energy and good conversation, I realize that I, myself, can relish in the stimulant effects and mindless familiarity that this plant provides.
So, why is it that it takes a significant transition in my life, a foreign destination perhaps, to push me towards 'space seeking' in search of labrynths and the hands of God? Is it only here, away from the self I know, that I will allow myself the grace to slow down, breathe in, and seek mindfulness for each moment?
over coffee mugs or wandering in fields of coffee.
may we all seek and find space.
Greetings to those who are so gracious to travel alongside me in my journey through life.
I wanted to begin writing again and I am here in Costa Rica experiencing another
slice of creation. I wanted to preserve my reflections from India so I decided
to continue on the same blog. Many blessings and thank you.
I wanted to begin writing again and I am here in Costa Rica experiencing another
slice of creation. I wanted to preserve my reflections from India so I decided
to continue on the same blog. Many blessings and thank you.
Monday, July 14, 2008
my reflections
I am fairly certain that I have only just begun to process my year here in Kerala. But perhaps, that relates to one lesson that I have learned—that the quality of raw food is superior to that of processed ones and that the caliber of handmade, homespun, self-financed goods cannot be replaced by the manufactured ones. Likewise, maybe my initial, raw thoughts and emotions will be more compelling than the thoughts I will take years to process. In fact, I even wonder if we lose some of the heartfelt vigor and ingenuous curiosity when we mull over something for far too long. So here they are, my experiences— honest and unrefined.
Before this year, I really had no concept of just how influential our lives and decisions in America affect countries like India. It is not only corporate America or the policy makers that create impacts, but also each of us as consumers and global citizens. In college I tried to stay informed on global issues, but here, I felt I have lived amongst the issues. It is my neighbors that don’t have enough to eat, who are landless, and who are denied their basic rights. It is tough to realize that your own nation, claiming to be “developed,” has practices and policies that dictate the “development” of other countries.
I have learned that generalizations are useless and quite often, completely off the mark. Just as each state in India varies in culture, food, dress, environment and language, each person is different from the next. I have been, at times, shocked by the many generalizations that have been made about my home or me and this has allowed for self-awareness regarding the generalizations that I make about others.
In Kerala, I have found a new concept of hospitality. I have been welcomed “in” again and again—hosted by friends, families, and complete strangers. I have been made to be like a family member at marriages. I have been served countless cups of tea and been showed off to everyone’s neighbors. More than food and functions, I have consistently found grace in others-- when I fumble with my very few Malayalam words or have my churidar top tucked into my pants, when my hairstyle is wrong or I am clueless to what is going on, when I have too much pride to ask for directions or help I have found friends who will take me as I am, genuinely interested in my life. I hope that I can take this with me and learn to be a gracious host and an ever-grateful guest.
Yet, while I want to be a grateful guest, I have also realized the need to feel as an integrated part of a community. At times, it has been a challenge to find the balance of being a part of a culture and observing all that that entails without losing your own identity or compromising what you hold true. But in seeking this balance, I have encountered many revelations about my world, my faith, and myself and been given the opportunity to more solidly form my own identity and the truths that I claim.
Most importantly, my year has been shaped and hugely impacted by a deeper understanding of Jesus’ radical ministry. My worldview has been shifted by find the Jesus who engages in social justice. I found that I have detached Jesus from social justice compartmentalizing the two into different passions of mine. But now I see that Jesus represents justice, equality and a kingdom that is unlike any political empire that has ever existed. As we have delved into the marginalized people that Jesus restores, I am discovering the variety of the marginalized in my own community here. These people are not only the poor, the sick, the different, but also the neglected, the women, the children. And, it was these very people that Jesus made the center of His ministry while using signs to point to larger social issues.
Contrast
I know I will be asked to describe India. How was it? What is it like? I already hear the questions looming.
To capture a year of experiences, a life lived in a new place is a challenge in itself. But, trying to capture a whole counrty and hundreds of years of history and civilization by describing a year in one tiny corner of the country will be defeating. All I can offer is my own limited experiences, albeit fulfilling and life-enriching ones.
I might attempt to depict India as a land of extremes. The striking sun clashing with the pounding rains. Arguably one of the most ecologically prized landscapes, dotted with piles of waste. An elephant working beside a bulldozer. A bullock cart beside a Land Cruiser. Never have I seen the juxtaposition between the haves and have-nots so strikingly obvious. The highest and the lowest placed one next to the other. Where neighbors coexist with great dichotomy—a grand estate flanked by a tiny colony of umbrella dwellers. Here, you will find hospitality like you’ve never seen. Simultaneously, a class system pervades the social structure and, albeit a Hindu construct, continues to dictate the underpinnings of the Church.
Contrasts. A concrete one room house with dirt floors and a family hovered around a television. Emaciated and corpulent. No scraps wasted; no scraps used. The same stick used by the same teacher to both hit a child and also affectionately tease a child.
Contradictions. Watching a highly educated and established woman belittled and berated by her husband. Seeing a family home broken apart in order to provide for the demands for a daughter's new family. Finding a place that is legendary for its natural health therapies suddenly inundated with imported processed foods. The politics and culture of an infant country (such as America) influencing the very livelihood of the people in a country with such an ancient and rich heritage (such as India).
Interestingly, one of the greatest contrasts I have learned in the year is the perception of my country and that that is my country. Stepping into a new place, you learn about your own. You learn that no country has it perfect. No country has it right. No country has the authority to dominate another. And, no country or people can be generalized or described in a matter of words.
To capture a year of experiences, a life lived in a new place is a challenge in itself. But, trying to capture a whole counrty and hundreds of years of history and civilization by describing a year in one tiny corner of the country will be defeating. All I can offer is my own limited experiences, albeit fulfilling and life-enriching ones.
I might attempt to depict India as a land of extremes. The striking sun clashing with the pounding rains. Arguably one of the most ecologically prized landscapes, dotted with piles of waste. An elephant working beside a bulldozer. A bullock cart beside a Land Cruiser. Never have I seen the juxtaposition between the haves and have-nots so strikingly obvious. The highest and the lowest placed one next to the other. Where neighbors coexist with great dichotomy—a grand estate flanked by a tiny colony of umbrella dwellers. Here, you will find hospitality like you’ve never seen. Simultaneously, a class system pervades the social structure and, albeit a Hindu construct, continues to dictate the underpinnings of the Church.
Contrasts. A concrete one room house with dirt floors and a family hovered around a television. Emaciated and corpulent. No scraps wasted; no scraps used. The same stick used by the same teacher to both hit a child and also affectionately tease a child.
Contradictions. Watching a highly educated and established woman belittled and berated by her husband. Seeing a family home broken apart in order to provide for the demands for a daughter's new family. Finding a place that is legendary for its natural health therapies suddenly inundated with imported processed foods. The politics and culture of an infant country (such as America) influencing the very livelihood of the people in a country with such an ancient and rich heritage (such as India).
Interestingly, one of the greatest contrasts I have learned in the year is the perception of my country and that that is my country. Stepping into a new place, you learn about your own. You learn that no country has it perfect. No country has it right. No country has the authority to dominate another. And, no country or people can be generalized or described in a matter of words.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Common Threads
Manninda manum. “The flavor of the sand.” It’s a Malayalam phrase the postman taught me that captures the essence of sustainability. Essentially, there is no paradigm of development that can be applied to an entire global context. The “flavor of the sand” dictates the needs as well as the sources of livelihood of a community.
One thing I have learned while in India is that it is futile to generalize. The stark contrast among states in India, is proof alone that diversity reigns. In traveling, I have come to realize that not only do the physical environments change with each border crossing, but also the tastes, the dress, the language, the customs, the sights, and the sounds. Like the character of each state, people are very different.
A favorite song among our group is titled Common Thread and describes unity among diversity. There is one stanza that depicts sustainability (it’s also given me words to describe my own decision in being a vegetarian!)
"We can feed our grain to cattle and the rich men will be fed;
we will rise all together we will rise
Or we’ll feed our grain to people so that millions will have bread;
we will rise all together, we will rise.
We will rise like the ocean, we will rise like the sun.
We will rise all together, we will rise.
No more will there be hunger in these strands of common thread,
We will rise all together, we will rise."
Maintaining the livelihood of marginalized people requires sustainable measures. I am discovering that sustainable development encompasses far more than the efficient use of available natural resources by a community. It includes sustainable economics and politics, agricultural and industrial practices. We are quick to distinguish between the “developed” and “developing.” Perhaps “developed” countries can look to “developing” countries for natural and basic solutions to the complicated problems that have resulted from our expansionist mindset and prevalent consumerism-- co-ops of women creating recycled papers and homemade soaps or men who come to the shore with the sun carrying the fish that will provide for their family’s daily meal. Fuel created from vegetable scraps, rainwater harvesting. Lives that seem rudimentary or “developing.” Simply. People living life so as to meet their basic needs. Simply.
As the “flavor of the sand,” it is essential that sustainability be incorporated according to a people and a place. It is only then that the strands can be woven into a common thread.
While the thread is strengthened by the addition of each strand, the simple fibers must also be able to maintain their elements, resilient at the core.
One thing I have learned while in India is that it is futile to generalize. The stark contrast among states in India, is proof alone that diversity reigns. In traveling, I have come to realize that not only do the physical environments change with each border crossing, but also the tastes, the dress, the language, the customs, the sights, and the sounds. Like the character of each state, people are very different.
A favorite song among our group is titled Common Thread and describes unity among diversity. There is one stanza that depicts sustainability (it’s also given me words to describe my own decision in being a vegetarian!)
"We can feed our grain to cattle and the rich men will be fed;
we will rise all together we will rise
Or we’ll feed our grain to people so that millions will have bread;
we will rise all together, we will rise.
We will rise like the ocean, we will rise like the sun.
We will rise all together, we will rise.
No more will there be hunger in these strands of common thread,
We will rise all together, we will rise."
Maintaining the livelihood of marginalized people requires sustainable measures. I am discovering that sustainable development encompasses far more than the efficient use of available natural resources by a community. It includes sustainable economics and politics, agricultural and industrial practices. We are quick to distinguish between the “developed” and “developing.” Perhaps “developed” countries can look to “developing” countries for natural and basic solutions to the complicated problems that have resulted from our expansionist mindset and prevalent consumerism-- co-ops of women creating recycled papers and homemade soaps or men who come to the shore with the sun carrying the fish that will provide for their family’s daily meal. Fuel created from vegetable scraps, rainwater harvesting. Lives that seem rudimentary or “developing.” Simply. People living life so as to meet their basic needs. Simply.
As the “flavor of the sand,” it is essential that sustainability be incorporated according to a people and a place. It is only then that the strands can be woven into a common thread.
While the thread is strengthened by the addition of each strand, the simple fibers must also be able to maintain their elements, resilient at the core.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Empowered
One of the greatest joys of my year has been working at Jyothis- Home of Love. It is a home and school for students with special needs. Amidst the chaos this place exudes, I find it a personal haven of peace. I am readily accepted-- my hand is always held or high-fived. It doesn’t particularly matter that I am not fluent in the language; communication at Jyothis transcends words. There’s Jojo, the self-appointed grass cutter with a temper that can change in an instant; Annie who says hello to me and then hides her face at least once a minute; Srudie with the sweetest smile; Bapu who tries to escape or drive away on the bus daily; Jerren who adores Cricket and is the handy man of the crowd. The disabilities vary greatly, but here is a place where I see the students taking care of each other even when the rest of the world has become distracted with its own needs.
As I watched the students standing in an assembly line to pass bricks up for roof repair, I witnessed the difference between simply helping someone and actually empowering that person to do something. For the past month, we have been making paper bags in the vocational class out of old newspapers. As the stack of bags swells, so does the confidence and ingenuous pride of the each student in the class. The completed bags are sold for a small amount at the local produce shop. It may seem like a trivial task to make a bag out of a newspaper, but for some, it is the completion of a monumental task. Each completed bag is an affirmation of one’s abilities and sufficiency.
The miraculous signs that Jesus performed during his lifetime meant far more than healing of the body or spirit. In fact, if we get caught trying to determine the means, probability and extraordinaire of it all than we are missing the point. This was no magic show. Jesus sought to empower the powerless, the marginalized, the outcastes. He gave a voice to the silent and strength to the weak. The freedom was not so much in the healing as it was in the implications that being healed brought- the acceptance into a society that for so long had shunned this exiled individual. By empowering these people—to walk, to see, to enter the temple—Jesus’ healings point to a necessary paradigm shift in the power structure and the society’s acceptance of others.
As I watched the students standing in an assembly line to pass bricks up for roof repair, I witnessed the difference between simply helping someone and actually empowering that person to do something. For the past month, we have been making paper bags in the vocational class out of old newspapers. As the stack of bags swells, so does the confidence and ingenuous pride of the each student in the class. The completed bags are sold for a small amount at the local produce shop. It may seem like a trivial task to make a bag out of a newspaper, but for some, it is the completion of a monumental task. Each completed bag is an affirmation of one’s abilities and sufficiency.
The miraculous signs that Jesus performed during his lifetime meant far more than healing of the body or spirit. In fact, if we get caught trying to determine the means, probability and extraordinaire of it all than we are missing the point. This was no magic show. Jesus sought to empower the powerless, the marginalized, the outcastes. He gave a voice to the silent and strength to the weak. The freedom was not so much in the healing as it was in the implications that being healed brought- the acceptance into a society that for so long had shunned this exiled individual. By empowering these people—to walk, to see, to enter the temple—Jesus’ healings point to a necessary paradigm shift in the power structure and the society’s acceptance of others.
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