Happy (Belated) Diwali!

This past week has been an absolute blessing.  Wednesday, as I said before, was Diwali.  It was, indeed, one big party.  The fireworks, or “crackers” as they say in India, began at about 4 am and literally continued until the 5 am the following morning.  We had the day off of school; we were basically free to do whatever we wanted until our Diwali party at one of our fellow BACAS student’s house. We did have a team “debriefing” mid-day, where we watched a documentary called India: Untouched, about the caste system.  More on this later.  After our debriefing, I was about to watch High School Musical, come to find that two others in my apartment wanted to watch with me! This never happens; no one ever wants to watch that movie with me.  I was on cloud nine when the movie was over, not to mention that I had an intermission when Mom and Dad called to say “hi!”  The lazy day was perfect.  At 6, we left for the party.  We all piled into a jeep and drove through what sounded like a war-zone with so many loud crackers and bright flashes.  When we arrived at Brianca’s house, we immediately began to light crackers.  To put it simply, fireworks in India put fireworks in America to shame; Diwali makes the 4^th of July and New Years combined look like childish.  We all took turns lighting off fireworks that literally were the loudest things I’ve ever heard.  Safety is not really a priority, however, because the crackers are not well-made and they release shrapnel like nobody’s business.  Our director, Kirk, got a piece in his eye and was taken to the hospital.  Thank goodness he is okay, he can see, and he walked away with a pretty gnarly black eye.  In the middle of the fireworks, the family invited us to perform puja (hindu worship).  We politely declined but we watched as they sang to and offered food (bananas and sweets) and incense to the gods and their ancestors.  At 11, we had dinner (yeah, “eating late” takes on a whole new meaning here) at a Chinese restaurant.  It was after midnight before we got back to our apartments and Brianca told us that they would still be blowing of crackers all night. 

Thursday was a long day because of the long night preceding it.  Friday should have been too, but we had the afternoon off and four others and myself had the chance to explore, shop for really great souvenirs, and get mehindi.  India is famous for its women sporting armfuls of henna tattoos, or mehindi as it is called here.  It is generally done for formal occasions, so, since we will be attending a wedding this coming week, we thought it only appropriate.  The process takes a while – they oil your arm, then basically freestyle draw and doodle.  Then, the goo that is henna has to dry and harden, meaning that you cannot move your arm or fingers for a good 4 or 5 hours.  Next, you have to peel the dried substance off.  All that’s left is your arm and a lot of dye in your skin.  Its pretty neat to be quite honest and looks awesome.  And, it only lasts for around a week; don’t worry, its not permanent!  I love it.  

Now back to the caste system.  It has become somewhat of a taboo in India because it is illegal according to the constitution.  This is not to say, however, that it is gone.  It is hard for us to see it as outsiders, but after watching the documentary, it became apparent just how prevalent the caste system still is.  It is heartbreaking.  And, it is everywhere.  Those of lower caste families still live in lower caste areas and do the dirtier jobs, like cleaning and other types of grunt work.  Its difficult to see such a system still in place, yet it is understandable that it is the only system India has ever known and thus cannot be broken completely at one time.  That being said, seeing the sweet ladies who take out our trash cans in the morning or the hysterical men who bring our professors water throughout class and knowing that there was never really any hope at all for them to have a better life is absolutely devastating.   

Happy Diwali :)

Mehindi.  My whole arm is covered. 

all the pretty things.

“Look at all the pretty things

That steal my heart away

I can feel I’m fading

Lord I love so many things

That keep me from Your face

Come and save me”

-Tenth Avenue North, All the Pretty Things

This week something struck me.  It may be a silly and juvenile observation, but here it goes anyway.  I have been struggling so much with understanding Hinduism – how and why Hindus believe what they do.  It just hasn’t made sense to me.  How on earth does worshipping dolls make sense in any context?  I was listening to my music on shuffle, and an old song I haven’t listened to in quite some time randomly played – “All the Pretty Things” by Tenth Avenue North.  While I was listening to it, something inside my head just clicked.  Hindus have idols that look so incredibly wrong to me, someone who doesn’t understand the religion.  But, Christians have all sorts of idols (me included), the idols just are not as obvious.  Here, people may worship dolls, but back home, people worship (through idolization) things like money, food, relationships and hobbies.  I think that this hidden idolatry might be scarier than the worship of dolls, because it tends to be unnoticed. It just seems sad. 

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In less than two months, I will be back home celebrating Christmas.  Reflecting on my time here thus far, I cannot begin to think that the end is even in sight, but it is.  It seems as though so much happens each week that my blogging doesn’t do much justice, but, here goes another week-long recap. 

As far as school is concerned, I suppose it is safe to say that it was “just another week.”  Although, we did have one notable strange and hilarious classroom experience happen.  It was evening and we had just begun religion class with a sweet (our professor likes to treat us to traditional Indian sweets – this time it had been masala banana chips with tender coconut to wash down the spice) and our professor told us that we would be watching a movie.  So, he popped a DVD into the computer and proceeded to fast-forward (in slow motion) through the whole two-hour movie.  Then, he ejected the DVD and made some comment along the lines of, “hope you enjoyed the film,” and began his lecture.  We were all a little bit confused as to what the point of watching him fast-forward through a documentary about Christianity coming to India was, but, as they would say in India, “What to do?”

Other than the normal class mix-ups and trips to the grocery store, it was a relatively uneventful week.  The weekend, however, was the eventful part, as seems to be an overarching motif of India.  Weekend travels usually tend to be packed full and exhausting but totally and completely worth it.   This past weekend was spent in Cochin, a city in Kerala (we finally left the state of Tamil Nadu!).  Kerala’s is known as “God’s Own Country” in the same way Montana is known as “The Last Best Place.”  Cochin is on the coast, so we were located right by the Arabian Sea.  We left Coimbatore on Saturday morning at 5 am, the earliest yet.  I had the terrible idea the night before that I would just stay up all night in order to get some work done and to be able to sleep on the long bus ride, so I was a little bit delirious by the time I boarded the bus, but as soon as we started driving, I fell right asleep.  It was certainly not the best sleep (India could really benefit from some road work, even chip-sealing would help) due to the rough and bumpy roads and traffic constantly slamming on the breaks and honking like crazy, but it was sleep nonetheless.  We stopped for a traditional Kerala breakfast about halfway through the drive, and had a very thin, bread-like pancake made of coconut.  It was pretty okay, although Indian breakfasts tend to be much more hearty than I prefer.  We finally made it to Cochin around noon.  We stayed at a hotel this time, and a classy one at that!  It was called Hotel SAAS.  Anyways, we checked into our rooms and then had lunch.  It was a traditional lunch comprised of rice, gravies, curries, and sambar.  But, we were a little spoiled at the hotel, and they also gave us fresh fruit and ice cream.  Its safe to say that it may have been a highlight of the weekend. 

After lunch, we heard a series of lectures on a wide range of topics including development, Christianity, and America.  The lectures were fascinating and really helped put things into a new perspective.  The lecture on Christianity was based on Mark 3-6 and the idea that if you want to follow Jesus, you must reject the logic of the world.  Basically, the world thought Jesus was crazy and if we are living like Jesus too, we should look crazy to the world too.  The talk on America was a little more disheartening.  The lecturer spoke of how America is a role model to the rest of the world, speaking of all American presidents (George Bush, Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton, and Barak Obama, of course) as though they were worthy of worship.  It is a little bit heart breaking to hear America spoken of as a role model because of what a struggle our country is facing at this point in history.  It was good to hear, though, because it helps to further understand the way that Indians view America, which is so valuable when you are living in the middle of it. 

After the lectures, we were served tea, which is completely normal now (tea ALL the time) and then went to a Kathakali dance exhibition.  Kathakali is a dance that is native to Kerala – it is basically acting through dance and drumming.  Only men are allowed to be dancers and they are required to complete a minimum of seven years of training to become a dancer (so, just like Shakespearean times, women are played by men in drag).  They are in full costume and their faces are made up with brightly colored concoctions of face paint made from coconut oil and dust from different kinds of rocks.  With the makeup on, the performers look almost fake – their face paint looks like a mask.  There is no talking throughout the telling of the story, and much of the drama is told through hand gestures and eye movements.  It was really neat, although I felt like I had gone down the rabbit’s hole in Alice in Wonderland for a while; the dance was kind of surreal feeling because the dancers looked like huge dolls.  After the dance, we attempted to get Italian food (Kerala is a tourist destination so there are attractions and restaurants to cater to such), which turned into a fiasco because basically nothing on the menu was available and everything that was turned out to be extremely overpriced.  I ended up getting a piece of bread with melted cheese.  I regret to inform you that it was not the best Italian food I’ve ever had and it was even worse than much of the Indian food that I’ve had.  By the time we left the restaurant, it was around 9.  The bus got very lost on the way back to SAAS Hotel so it was after 11 by the time we got there – another late night. 

Sunday began at 8 with breakfast at another place traditional to Kerala.  I had Bombay Toast, my favorite Indian food ever.  Its basically French toast but made with ghee and sugar so it is super sweet and delicious.  Of course tea followed and then we went on a boat tour of the outskirts.  We saw many things from the water – cruise ships headed to Sri Lanka, cargo boats, chinese fishing nets, and a great view of town.  Our boat took us to a dock where we got off to look at the Dutch palace (a landmark from when the Dutch ruled India).  I felt so at home there. Kidding, of course.  We also saw a synagogue in Jewtown.  Yes, it really is called Jewtown, which would be completely and totally politically incorrect at home but stuff like that works here.  After the boat tour, we went to a spice market where many people bought spices.  Then, it was already time to head back to Coimbatore.  We stopped on the drive back for tea and hot banana chips, another thing Kerala is famous for.  Banana chips are the Indian version of potato chips.  We finally got “home” around 9 and our school had brought us dinner to our apartments. 

Again, I am sitting here thinking about how incredibly blessed I am.  Today, Monday, was another great day.  Although it was a school day, we had to be at school early to hear a guest speaker.  Thinking it would be boring, I was not all too excited about it.  Its crazy how God knows what you need to hear though.  Our guest speaker was Dr. Myron Augsburg, from America.  He planted churches as well as he was the president of the CCCU for many years.  He spoke about Jesus’s life and the importance of association with other people for Christians, as well as the uniqueness of grace Christianity (an element that all other religions lack).  He had such wisdom and I hope that I can have even a small fraction of that kind of world knowledge later in life. 

This week is bound to be an eventful one.  Wednesday is Diwali, a national holiday.  Apparently, it is close to the most celebrated holiday in India.  It’s a big deal and we plan to embrace every minute and celebrate a lot.  

Kathakali Dancer #1.

Kathakali Dancer #2.

Chinese Fishing Nets.

Beautiful Cochin. 

day by day.

Most of the time, I would much rather be busy than bored.  To put it simply, India has been keeping me busy with no thought of ever being bored.  It is crazy for me to think that I’ve been here for a month and a half and that in two months, I’ll be on a plane back to America.  In the time that I’ve been here, I feel like there hasn’t been even a minute to take a breather.  Some days, of course, are busier than others, but honestly, having one full day off (a day with no mandatory commitments and nothing to do) in almost two months makes me feel as though I am running a marathon.  Considering I’m no runner, at this point in the race, I’d really like to reach a place to rest.  At the same time, however, I’m not sure what I would cut out and get rid of – I’m so thankful for the amount of the country and the culture that is being seen.  I guess, after a long week of school and weekend of travel, I’m exhausted.

The past week was packed with presentation, papers, and other assignments.  Every single day of school is still an adjustment, especially in regards to the work that must be carried out.  Because of the cultural hit-and-miss, it is incredibly difficult to judge expectations.  This results in either feeling on top of the world, because, by chance, you got the expectations right, or makes you feel like you are slowly drowning in sinking sand because you thought you hit the nail right on the head when realistically, you hammered that nail right through your own thumb.  Long story short, we were supposed to give group presentations in a class.  Every single presentation, however, was ripped to shreds by the professor, leaving each one of us feeling vastly inadequate in the classroom.  The week as a whole followed that theme of frustration and inadequacy a little bit too much for comfort, and by Friday, I think exhaustion in all of its possible forms had set in – mentally, physically, and emotionally. 

This past weekend has been not exactly relaxing, however, we did get a small vacation from Coimbatore, as we headed to Madhurai for the weekend.  Madhurai is known as, “The City of Temples,” and, come to find out, it is accurately named.  The weekend was purely educational, once again opening our eyes to the challenges faced in everyday Indian society, as well as the great diversity encompassed in Indian culture.  We stayed at the Tamil Nadu Theological Seminary, a seminary focused on social justice – each student spends a whole year living in a slum, having their eyes opened and their hearts molded.  The seminary students have various work projects within the slums and we spent much of Saturday seeing such projects.  We went to a rest home where some of the students are part of an “adopt-a-grandparent” type of program, where we spoke to the residents and gave them cookies.  It was eye opening to see the poor living conditions that the elderly live in when there is no one to take care of them; they sleep on metal slabs and have only a small box holding their possessions.  Next, we went to the Indian equivalent of a women’s’ shelter, where women with nowhere else to go can go to live and learn vocational skills, such as sewing.  Again, it was heartbreaking to see the way that those in society with no family for whom to turn are treated, and good to see that there are places for them to go.  It is interesting for me to look at the importance of family in India, especially in comparison to America.  Family is so important here; without a good family here, one is doomed, as they have no one to care for them. 

Later Saturday night, we went to a historical palace, where we watched what was called a “light show,” but was basically a story told in the dark with certain parts of the palace illuminated by multicolored lights.  The show gave a broad overview of Madhurai and how it came to be the city that it is. 

Sunday, we visited one of the largest and most famous Hindu temples in India – the Meenakshi Temple.  It was gargantuan.  Hinduism confuses me and I am still unsure what to make of it.  On one hand, I am baffled that people can believe in a religion where they are allowed to worship literally anything they want – from a doll of Santa Clause to an air conditioner to an elephant.  On another hand, I am genuinely scared any time I am near this idol worship because it is deemed so wrong Biblically, and really gives me the heebie jeebies.  One of my friends said, as we entered the temple, “Can you imagine what Jesus would do to this temple if He were here right now?”  I would presume that the temple would be overthrown and demolished.  The temple is full of statues of Shiva, Brahma, and Vishnu, the three main and pivotal gods.  Other than that, there are sculptures everywhere.  Many of these statues and sculptures are worshipped by the placement of “puja powder,” a fine powder made of cow dung (keep in mind that Hindus find cows to be holy so this is of utmost respect to the gods), offered bananas, coconuts, and other food items, or offered burning candles.  It is hard to explain the feeling of the temple, but to me, it felt very tribal.  After hours at the huge temple, we went to the Gandhiji Museum; adding “ji” to the end of one’s name is respectful, so Gandhi is known as “Gandhiji” here.  The museum was informative, though not like museums in America.  I suppose that is to be expected, however, considering everything here it seems stands in opposition to home. 

After the Gandhi museum, we returned to TTC for lunch and then left for Coimbatore.  We made one stop on the way back though, at an orphanage for HIV positive children.  This was certainly my favorite part of the weekend trip, and possibly one of my favorite parts of India thus far.  I can’t pinpoint as to why it was so great, but it just was.  There was so much joy in the children at the home, even though they know full well what their desolate futures hold.  They sang songs with us and played on the playground.  As we left, one of the girls that I played with the whole time we were there said to me, “I pray to Jesus that you will come back.”  As tears filled my eyes, I hopped on the bus, unable to put that beautiful girl with that beautiful faith out of my thoughts. 

It was a long bus ride back to Coimbatore, but I was glad to be back “home.”   

Something that has been tugging on my heartstrings this week is Romans 13:11-12.  It reads, “The hour has already come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.  The night is nearly over; the day is almost here.  So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.”  I don’t know why these verses struck me so much, but they did.  

Palace.

Temple.

[let it rain]

I always thought that the saying, “Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass; its about dancing in the rain,” was really lame and super cliché.  Today, however, my mind was changed.  I still don’t like the quote, but I learned that it’s more the principle of the matter. 

Soon after I returned to my apartment after a ridiculously long day, it began to rain.  The water fell slowly at first, and the fresh smell of rain seeped into my nostrils.  It didn’t take long until myself and three other girls jumped on the opportunity to run around and dance in the rain.  As we let the fat water droplets soak our clothes and smear our makeup, flashes of lightning began to streak across the sky, followed by what seemed like sonic booms of thunder.  The raindrops began to fall faster and with more force, soaking every inch of our bodies and clothing.  Before we knew it, we finally began to comprehend why these months are known as “monsoon season.”  Today, the rain was something I needed.  It was beautiful and it was powerful and it made me feel so alive. 

 It should be noted, however, that this was some serious rain.  Really though.  It was a monsoon.  Streets were completely flooded to the point where cars couldn't drive and people were walking in puddles past their knees.  I think I can really learn to love monsoon season!