I'm standing in the middle of a dirt road looking off into the distance as UGK plays on my iPod. I can't help but admire the sun setting behind the mountains. Mountains, which are so numerous the landscape looks like green waves of jungle rolling off into the horizon. Behind me is a small waterfall the construction workers use to cool off from the hot summer sun. I've been walking up and down this narrow dirt road loving called an express highway for about an hour now. Landslides, which are frequent in the rainy season, have a way of holding up traffic. This won't be the last time that my travels will be haulted for a time because of falling rocks. In fact, any time I'm traveling around Mizoram I can see sections of the roadways blocked by rocks who have inconveniently fallen where cars should pass. I never really see any damages or injuries from these landslides (deaths rarely occur here from them), they just stop traffic for a while. As if Mother Nature wanted us to stop for a second to admire her. The road I'm standing on leads from Mizoram to Lunglei, a journey of about 100 miles. However, the trip will take about six hours to complete because there's no such thing as a straight road in Mizoram. The only roads that exist are the kind that snake through the mountains making their way in zig-zag fashion to whatever destination. I'm also traveling to a higher altitude making the trip more difficult on our tired wannabe-jeep with a new tire.
I'm headed to Lunglei to visit the Baptist Church of Mizoram (BCM) headquarters. Unlike other Baptists, the Baptists in Mizoram have centralized themselves to this southern city. Thinking about the US, I wonder if Baptists just like southern places naturally. The next day is an important day for Principal Hnuni, filled with meetings for various church government groups. I have been informed that my day will be spent visiting classes at the local school.
In non-chalant fashion and without any big announcement, construction vechiles begin leaving the area signalling the road has been cleared. We make it to Lunglei in time for a late meal and time to watch a World Cup match. And so begins a hectic week of traveling and speaking for me.
Wednesday morning I am woken up to a knock at the door to my guest room on the top floor of the BCM. Luckily, I slept in my clothes so I answer the door to find Principal Hnuni informing me of my itinerary for the day. At 6 am, I'm not fully awake but I am able to catch "go to my daughter's house for breakfast" and "you will speak to students at the secondary school." And just like that, my day begins.
After a quick breakfast I'm lead into the Principal's office of the high school attached to the BCM. He is happy to have me and would like for me to speak to two classes (one 11th grade and the other 12th grade). I'm happy to oblige and am told to say whatever I would like. That seems to be a theme here, "say whatever you like," as if no particular direction is needed to talk to high school students or large congregations in Mizoram.
After meeting some faculty members, I am lead to the 11th grade class. A shy class, all sitting on long benches in front of their shared wooden tables. There are three columns of five rows filled with students. I begin to talk about the importance of education and how "education is something no one can take from you" (thanks Mimi). I talk about how "knowledge is power" and how they can achieve whatever dreams they want if they work hard. I can't help but feel like a corny motivational speaker. The kind that comes to your school trying to convince you not to do drugs or have sex. But I do my best to use the opportunity to open their eyes to the possibilities of traveling outside Mizoram or even India for school. I remind them that everything from the West isn't great and to never forget where they came from. I don't want them to forget that they have a rich culture and history even though the West seems so appealing. Apparently something works, as after waiting for a bit during Q&A time I get a question on how scholarships work. How do you get one? Where can I go? Success.
Instead of two classes, I end up talking to three. Every class gets the same speech, same message. Value your education and your heritage. I'll probably never know, but I hope one of them pursues a scholarship somewhere. Now I know how all those motivational speakers felt standing before a large group of blank faces hoping something you say matters to someone and will make a difference. Afterwards, the Principal will give me a small plaque from the school given to teachers and visitors for my work. I'd trade it to know the future of just one kid I talked to but the universe doesn't work like that.
Next I visit the junior school where children from first to seventh attend. I'm really there just to meet up with Principal's daughter so I can go rest but that doesn't happen. I meet up with the daughter but out of courtesy she introduces me around the office. As soon as "Princeton Theological Seminary" gets dropped, I am now getting firmer handshakes and more interested looks. I get asked to speak to a class of fifth graders on "whatever you like." So in a flash I am walked over to the class, handed a piece of chalk, and left in front of 30 tiny fifth grades in school uniforms eagerly awaiting the final bell which will sound in thirty minutes. The class is very shy to talk to me, as most Mizos are with Westerners even if they speak some English, so I begin to talk about whatever I want. I tell them that I'm from Texas and talk about all the wonderful things found there. How we have cowboys and cows with huge horns, how we helped put a man on the moon, and have a basketball team called "the spurs." Surprisingly, it all seems relatively cohesive. I ask who they want to win the World Cup and poll the class. Brazil is surprisingly popular, followed by Argentina. But, the most popular was the USA (course, only because I was asking). The bell rings and the children rush off to enjoy their childhoods.
I return to my guesthouse for some much needed rest before being informed I'm due at HATIM professional school to talk to a small group of twenty-somethings working for degrees in business and computer science. After a full tour of the new school, I deliver a speech about how they are the next leaders of tomorrow and in charge of leading Mizoram to a brigther future. If only I had gold stickers to hand out at this point. Although I feel like a sappy speaker, every time I speak people are happy with what I said. That's good I guess, I just wish I knew the people better so I could speak more specifically but you make lemonade when you have to. Now I know what all those commencement speakers feel like when trying to imagine what encouraging words to say before a group of fresh college grads eager to begin adulthood. But I'm happy to get the chance to speak in front of people and hopefully at some point they realize that despite the articulations of helping the system they are probably given everyday, they truly are the shapers of tomorrow. Lets hope we make it a good one.
Afterwards, we head to a relative of Principal Hnuni's house for dinner. The next morning begins promptly at 5:45 with a knock on the door from a nice AICS graduate in charge of walking me over to the Assistant General Secretary's house. I have tea there (a reminent of British occupation) and move to shake more hands before we head south again to visit Principal Hnuni's mother-in-law's home. It's a two hour journey but an important one to make.
Judith, Principal Hnuni's daughter who's been traveling with us, is in Mizoram for the first time since 2007. She lives in Canada now, where she just completed college and recently got married. The cost of travel means she can't visit often so this may be the last time in a few years she'll be able to visit. Her grandmother is so old that traveling to Mizoram for the wedding ceremony just a couple weeks ago was impossible. As difficult as it is to realize, we all know this may be the last time she sees her grandmother amongst the living. The reality makes me feel like a true foreigner for the first time since I arrived. No longer was the food different, customs different, language different but now I felt as though I didn't belong. Course, Mizo culture is so hospitable no one minded.
In fact, my entire time there everyone was delighted to have me. Family members took pictures with me and invited me into family photos. I made sure enough got taken without me in them though just so years from now when Judith is looking at her photos a random Texan isn't all of the sudden inserted into a memory of her grandmother. I enjoy a good time there although most of them don't speak English. My time in Mizoram has made me a much quieter individual. I sit in silence as people talk around me in a language that sounds quite fun. I'm constantly reminded of Shifu Jia's comment to me when I was in China, "Austin, you are always thinking. I always see you looking off thinking." I guess that's never truer than here. But I enjoy it and at times Principal will turn to me and narrate the conversation thus far so I can laugh about whatever joke has been told. Although we don't share a language, everyone does their best to incorporate me and show me kindness. Americans might remember their codes of hospitality now long forgotten.
We spend the night there and at 6:30 head back to Lunglei. There we eat a late breakfast with a professor before taking a tour of the BCM. I am introduced to just about every worker there and share the same small talk with everyone. It's a quick hour trip in total before we are back in the car headed to Aizawl. We reach AICS just before 6 and needless to say I am exhausted. In four days I've traveled more than 300 miles of mountain terrain, met almost every key leader of the Baptist church, spoken to over 100 students, met at least 30 family members, and never eaten more than 2 meals in the same place.
If you come to Mizoram be prepared for travels. Also, know that road side vendors in villages sell really great fruit for real cheap. And "hotel" in some places just means a restaurant. Well, I think I've exhausted the majority of my travels for the week in this post. Look forward to another post on some insights into Mizo culture and my sermon for Sunday. Hope all is well in the States. This week, go have an adventure or eat at some hole in the wall restaurant. Adventure is confined to Mizoram, it's all around you. Go find it.
pax et bonum
SHOUT OUT SECTION:
Mom- Wow, didn't know my blog was so popular. I'll have to make sure I keep doing interesting things then haha
Mamaw & Papaw- Yes, my students are enjoying themselves. They love to hear trivia about the US and to learn kung fu!
Sara- Well maybe when I get back to the US I can teach you some kung fu moves so you can get another job teaching English. Teaching English is very little grammar and lots of kung fu I've found haha
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