Lessons from the Bru on Poverty

My last two weeks here in Mizoram have been an all out blitz. Everyday I'm busy writing, editing, teaching, or traveling somewhere. Everyone here, including myself, is trying to make the most of my last few days here so I always feels as though I'm just coming from or about to go to an event. Monday, however, was a special event.

My alarm clock went off at about 4:45 am, much to my displeasure. Living in a place with no A/C, you cherish cool rainy nights because you actually get some good rest. However, I had to be awaken from pleasant slumber to hop in a car with the AICS chaplain so we could begin our travels out to a Bru (sp?) village.

The Bru are an ethnic minority here in Mizoram living mostly in small rural villages in the western part of the state. Either due to culture or location (I'm not sure which), these people have not modernized in the same way that those in Aizawl or Lunglei have. Or perhaps living in Aizawl, the capital city, has skewed my perspective. Either way, Rev. Zolawma wanted me to visit the Bru so I could be exposed to the way poor, rural people live in Mizoram.

The trip took about 5.5 hours to make as the chaplain and I had to navigate the difficult roads of Mizoram in his small car. Traveling on roads nearly washed out in something akin to a Pinto can be a little difficult but at about 10:30 am we reached the village. The village we visited, whose name escapes me at the moment, is the largest Bru settlement in Mizoram. Here there are about 600-700 huts. These huts are incredibly basic because they are modeled after the traditional homes.

A traditional Bru hut sits raised 3 or 4 ft off the ground on large bamboo posts. The four walls are made of bamboo thatch work (no nails or pegs) and the roof is composed of leaves. The inside is just one large room without an interior dividers. In one corner is a fireplace which is much more akin to a campfire than what you're probably imagining. Although I was invited into one of the homes, the chaplain marveled at the modernization of many of the huts. As I discovered, "modernization" meant some huts had tin roofs, four walls (the front of a traditional hut was left open), and some houses had televisions that ran off of batteries. I realized quickly the size of the scales which were over my eyes since I wouldn't have associated a tin roof with modernization (at least not in the past 100 yrs). Nevertheless, his remarks were quite accurate as you could see some of the effects of modernization and globalization amongst certain members of the community.

When we arrived, we were greeted by the faculty of the local Baptist High School which provides education to some 200 students ranging from kindergarten to high school. A lunch had been prepared for the chaplain and I which we were happy to take since we haven't eaten anything but some small crackers. There was little time for small talk though because all the children were waiting for us to visit the school (we arrived about an hour late). Although I didn't realize until I got there, the school had prepared a special reception for me.

As I walked into the large room, the children all stared in amazement at me. Not because of my dashing good looks but more because a 6'2" white man is not something you'll see often for the Bru (the chaplain actually described it as a 'once in a lifetime experience' for them). The chaplain and I were seat at the front of the room at a special table with the headmaster facing all the students. I must admit, I felt a bit odd considering the nature of my reception. I was treated as though I was a special dignitary from the United States on tour or something. I was humbled by the event as I didn't feel worthy of such a welcome.

These feelings came not only as I sat down, but as the program began. An 1-1.5 hr long program had been made for me to showcase the school. The kindergarten classes sang songs, elementary students recited Bible verses, junior high girls sang solos, the high school chior performed, and some high school students even did a traditional Bru dance. I did my best to take some pictures and videos as I also wanted to pay attention to the students.

After the performances, I was asked to say a few words to the students. In many ways, I repeated some of the things I told the students in Lunglei: work hard at your studies, you can be whatever you want to be, and maybe one day you can visit a far away place. I told them a couple stories about growing up in Texas and they loved my stories about feeding Texas longhorns. As a result, I've decided that if you are a Texan cowboy then everyone in the world loves you. Except the Yanks in America, but that's only because they're jealous haha.

Anyways, I wasn't done just with speaking because the chaplain got up and asked the kids if they would like to see some kung fu. The kids all cheered so I did a quick demonstration for them. As I began my demonstration, I noticed that the outside of the room was lined with villagers. Apparently, the parents of the children had requested to watch the event because they were just as interested to see a white person. I was glad to see them but it's an odd sensation to be the main event of someone's month. At any rate, I had a great time and at the end we passed out some candy we brought to give to the children.

After a quick tour of some parts of the village and some tea, it was back in the car for the chaplain and I. At about 1:45 pm, we began the journey home. Around 7:20, we finally made it back to AICS completely exhausted. The tough roads, heavy monsoon rains we encountered for most of the way home, and length of the day wore us both out. But I was really happy to make the trip.

Post-visit I have a lot of thoughts and comments which I don't have time to make here as breakfast will soon be served. Suffice it to say, I'm thinking about what it means to be "poor." "Poor" in America in no way captures the reality faced by most people in the world. I mean, think about it, are you poor if you don't own a car? Are you poor if you only have 3 pairs of shoes? Are you poor if you only own 7 shirts? are you poor if you don't own a TV? In Mizoram, if you have 7 shirts, 3 pairs of shoes, and a TV you're actually living pretty well. I had a faculty person say I had so much stuff here in Mizoram and yet everything I brought can fit inside the backpack I use for luggage. Think about it.

What about our lives is esssential? What about them are things we think are essential but actually aren't? If you have reliable and easy access to clean drinking water, sufficient food, basic education, and medical care are you still considered poor? What does it mean to be poor? That's the question of the day.

pax et bonum