Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Random Lines
We were kings then. Kings who wore crooked crowns and mischievous grins as we drank from the well of life. All the while adventure and trouble played the jester and fortune became our favored queen.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
All Good Things Must Come To An End
Well hello there, remember me? I'm that guy who's blog you occassionally read and I occassionally update? Haha, it feels like it's been forever since the last time I've posted a blog. I'll see what I can do in this post.
As of last week, it's been 3 months since I first landed in India. The mile-mark not only demonstrates the length of time I've been in India, but also how long India has been influencing me. I am, admittedly (and slightly proudly), no longer a tourist in India. I have certain mannerisms and phrases which have clearly been picked up in my travels. I've become slightly familiar with the various cultures that make up the tapestry called India. And yet, I'm still very much a stranger here. Not a tourist and not a resident, I live in this in between place where I talk Indian politics with Indians and yet will never fully understand what it truly means to be Indian.
Yet the thought of the day is: What does it mean to "be Indian?" This is an answer which is difficult, if not impossible, to answer. Punjabis and Bengalis have different dialects, customs, and outlooks. What was fashionable for men in Uttar Pradesh was thought as feminine in Punjab. The language of the Tamils is not shared by those in Delhi. Even my Mizo friends are considered "fake Chinese" rather than true Indians. So if language, customs, religion, appearance, etc are not shared amongst Indians, what does it really mean to be Indian? For that matter, what does it mean to be anything? Mexican Americans, Asian Americans, African Americans, European Americans, etc are all incredible different. So what does it mean to be American? But these differences are dwarfed when compared to the diversity of India. A diversity which is both the strength and weakness of the nation. Only time will tell if these differences can be unified in a diversity which allows the nation to prosper.
Insofar as my life is concerned, I spent a relaxing week in Delhi with my Mizo brothers. Contrary to my original expectations, Dr. Thanzauva was still in Aizawl meaning on John and Mapuia were there. Staying with John (28) and Mapuia (21) was like being back in college. We stayed up until 2 am watching movies, debating, and talking about our celebrity "girlfriends." After two weeks of traveling, there was something nourishing to the soul to be amongst people who could joke about silly things with or debate some issue in music. I really enjoyed being with them and it was hard to leave them behind in Delhi.
Now I'm here in Kolkata for the last 3 days of my time in India. Kolkata is a very different city than Delhi. Kolkata has 14 million people all crammed together in a city 4 times too small for its population. And its incredibly hot here which complicates the matter. Nevertheless, I'm enjoying myself and being reminded of both why I will miss India and why I'll be happy to return. My hotel is part of a Mizo community here in Kolkata and my room literally overlooks Mother Teresa's charity. My plan is to see the Victorian Memorial (a remnant of the British rule in India) and a couple of traditional Kolkata sites. Then on Thursday I hop on a plane and head back to the States.
I'm looking forward to being back in the States and interested to see how my time in India has reshaped my understanding of the US. So many things are different here. I've grown accustomed to living without so many things which are considered essentials in the US (AC, hot water, showers, reliable electricity, washer & dryer, etc). At any rate, it'll be great to see family and friends again. Of course, I don't know how the seminary expects me to be adjusted and ready for classes to begin just two weeks later. But such is the life of a traveler I guess. I leave India only to begin the next adventure of Maximum Security Prison chaplaincy and Middler Year seminary studies. But such is life, each day we begin another adventure anew. What adventure are you off on today?
pax et bonum
As of last week, it's been 3 months since I first landed in India. The mile-mark not only demonstrates the length of time I've been in India, but also how long India has been influencing me. I am, admittedly (and slightly proudly), no longer a tourist in India. I have certain mannerisms and phrases which have clearly been picked up in my travels. I've become slightly familiar with the various cultures that make up the tapestry called India. And yet, I'm still very much a stranger here. Not a tourist and not a resident, I live in this in between place where I talk Indian politics with Indians and yet will never fully understand what it truly means to be Indian.
Yet the thought of the day is: What does it mean to "be Indian?" This is an answer which is difficult, if not impossible, to answer. Punjabis and Bengalis have different dialects, customs, and outlooks. What was fashionable for men in Uttar Pradesh was thought as feminine in Punjab. The language of the Tamils is not shared by those in Delhi. Even my Mizo friends are considered "fake Chinese" rather than true Indians. So if language, customs, religion, appearance, etc are not shared amongst Indians, what does it really mean to be Indian? For that matter, what does it mean to be anything? Mexican Americans, Asian Americans, African Americans, European Americans, etc are all incredible different. So what does it mean to be American? But these differences are dwarfed when compared to the diversity of India. A diversity which is both the strength and weakness of the nation. Only time will tell if these differences can be unified in a diversity which allows the nation to prosper.
Insofar as my life is concerned, I spent a relaxing week in Delhi with my Mizo brothers. Contrary to my original expectations, Dr. Thanzauva was still in Aizawl meaning on John and Mapuia were there. Staying with John (28) and Mapuia (21) was like being back in college. We stayed up until 2 am watching movies, debating, and talking about our celebrity "girlfriends." After two weeks of traveling, there was something nourishing to the soul to be amongst people who could joke about silly things with or debate some issue in music. I really enjoyed being with them and it was hard to leave them behind in Delhi.
Now I'm here in Kolkata for the last 3 days of my time in India. Kolkata is a very different city than Delhi. Kolkata has 14 million people all crammed together in a city 4 times too small for its population. And its incredibly hot here which complicates the matter. Nevertheless, I'm enjoying myself and being reminded of both why I will miss India and why I'll be happy to return. My hotel is part of a Mizo community here in Kolkata and my room literally overlooks Mother Teresa's charity. My plan is to see the Victorian Memorial (a remnant of the British rule in India) and a couple of traditional Kolkata sites. Then on Thursday I hop on a plane and head back to the States.
I'm looking forward to being back in the States and interested to see how my time in India has reshaped my understanding of the US. So many things are different here. I've grown accustomed to living without so many things which are considered essentials in the US (AC, hot water, showers, reliable electricity, washer & dryer, etc). At any rate, it'll be great to see family and friends again. Of course, I don't know how the seminary expects me to be adjusted and ready for classes to begin just two weeks later. But such is the life of a traveler I guess. I leave India only to begin the next adventure of Maximum Security Prison chaplaincy and Middler Year seminary studies. But such is life, each day we begin another adventure anew. What adventure are you off on today?
pax et bonum
Friday, August 20, 2010
Ancient Wonders & Tourists
Ew, life here in India seems to be moving at lightening speed although the weeks seem to passby slowly. At any rate, I'm sitting in an internet cafe here in Amritsar passing the time away so I thought I might update my blog while I'm at it. I'll try to be concise but I have so much to share it might be a bit tough. At any rate, here's what's new in my life:
I left Varanasi and headed by train to Agra. Agra is a city built around a monument: the Taj Mahal. The Taj, as you probably know, is one of the wonders of the ancient world. The locals like to say it's the ultimate monument to love as the massive structure was built by the king as a mossoleum to his wife who died in childbirth. My time in Agra was short but filled with lots of good stories. I saw the Taj from various angles and multiple times in the day. The first is when I snuck down the beach by a park to get a nice picture of the Taj at sunset. It was a funny place to take a photo as a herd of donkeys were grassing behind me long the shore and trash from former sight-seers filled the ground.
At a popular restaraunt in Agra, I met some German tourists who were planning on seeing the Taj the next morning. After a long talk, they invited me to join them on their travels. So, the next day I toured Agra with some nice German girls seeing the Taj, the Agra Fort (where the King was imprisoned for a number of years), and we even went to one of the upscale pools to swim. But those are stories for another time. Back to what you really want to read about, the Taj is every bit as good as people and pictures tell you it is. Although I would argue from a far it's not incredibly awe-ing, once you're upclose it's incredible. The intricate designs and marble work is truly amazing. It's funny because within the Taj area everyone is constantly turning around as they walk just to look again at the Taj. It's like you can't take your eyes off of it and you marvel at how the light hits the building in different ways as you walk around. I think Bill Clinton was right when he said, "There are two types of people in this world: Those who have seen the Taj and those who haven't."
The next day I met some nice French girls on my way to the ancient city of Fatephur Sikri. The three of us walked around the abandoned capital of a once great empire. The city is actually a world heritage site and it was cool to walk around an ancient palace trying to imagine what life would have been like hundreds of years ago there.
After that, I hopped on a train and headed to Amritsar. Amritsar is a small city located near the India-Pakistan border in the northwest part of India. The city is like Mecca to Sikhs who come on pilgrimage to the Golden Temple. The Golden Temple is quite beautiful and the inner court of the complex allows a great reprieve from the congested streets of Amritsar. Although I'm here for 3 days, it seems I over-estimated how much there is to do here.
Yesterday, while eating a meal at the temple I made friends with some Israeli tourist and we all went to the Pakistan border. Here, every night at sundown, the Indian and Pakistani border troops participate in a ceremony of pure bravado. Filled with loud chanting, shouts, fancy high kicks, and more the two sides display their skill. The scene has become so popular that there are bleachers set up for visitors and they were completely packed with people cheering for India. Think of it like a pep rally for India. It was crazy, I'll have to show you video for it to really make sense but it was quite fun.
So that's the main updates from my life. As you can see, I've begun to participate in the joys of traveler culture. In India, you're pretty easy to pick out as a tourist so among ourselves there's always the courtesy of saying hello. But often with us younger travelers we enjoy spending the day traveling to the sites together just to have other people or different people to talk to. So that's been fun especially since I'm on my own until I get to Delhi. Why are all the tourists I meet up with girls? I don't know. That's a good question. Hmmm.... hahah
Anyways, although I've done most of what there is to do in Amritsar (Golden Temple, Border Ceremony) I think I there are some temples I can visit and of course there's always just relaxing. Which is probably how I'll spend the rest of today. Sunday morning I leave for Delhi to catch up with Dr. Thanzauva and family which I'm looking forward to. It'll be nice to spend a week with some familiar faces after a week on the road. Also, today marks exactly 2 wks before I arrive back in the Lone Star State. Get excited America, I'm still coming back. Well, that's all I have for you now. Update to come mid-next week from Delhi.
pax et bonum
I left Varanasi and headed by train to Agra. Agra is a city built around a monument: the Taj Mahal. The Taj, as you probably know, is one of the wonders of the ancient world. The locals like to say it's the ultimate monument to love as the massive structure was built by the king as a mossoleum to his wife who died in childbirth. My time in Agra was short but filled with lots of good stories. I saw the Taj from various angles and multiple times in the day. The first is when I snuck down the beach by a park to get a nice picture of the Taj at sunset. It was a funny place to take a photo as a herd of donkeys were grassing behind me long the shore and trash from former sight-seers filled the ground.
At a popular restaraunt in Agra, I met some German tourists who were planning on seeing the Taj the next morning. After a long talk, they invited me to join them on their travels. So, the next day I toured Agra with some nice German girls seeing the Taj, the Agra Fort (where the King was imprisoned for a number of years), and we even went to one of the upscale pools to swim. But those are stories for another time. Back to what you really want to read about, the Taj is every bit as good as people and pictures tell you it is. Although I would argue from a far it's not incredibly awe-ing, once you're upclose it's incredible. The intricate designs and marble work is truly amazing. It's funny because within the Taj area everyone is constantly turning around as they walk just to look again at the Taj. It's like you can't take your eyes off of it and you marvel at how the light hits the building in different ways as you walk around. I think Bill Clinton was right when he said, "There are two types of people in this world: Those who have seen the Taj and those who haven't."
The next day I met some nice French girls on my way to the ancient city of Fatephur Sikri. The three of us walked around the abandoned capital of a once great empire. The city is actually a world heritage site and it was cool to walk around an ancient palace trying to imagine what life would have been like hundreds of years ago there.
After that, I hopped on a train and headed to Amritsar. Amritsar is a small city located near the India-Pakistan border in the northwest part of India. The city is like Mecca to Sikhs who come on pilgrimage to the Golden Temple. The Golden Temple is quite beautiful and the inner court of the complex allows a great reprieve from the congested streets of Amritsar. Although I'm here for 3 days, it seems I over-estimated how much there is to do here.
Yesterday, while eating a meal at the temple I made friends with some Israeli tourist and we all went to the Pakistan border. Here, every night at sundown, the Indian and Pakistani border troops participate in a ceremony of pure bravado. Filled with loud chanting, shouts, fancy high kicks, and more the two sides display their skill. The scene has become so popular that there are bleachers set up for visitors and they were completely packed with people cheering for India. Think of it like a pep rally for India. It was crazy, I'll have to show you video for it to really make sense but it was quite fun.
So that's the main updates from my life. As you can see, I've begun to participate in the joys of traveler culture. In India, you're pretty easy to pick out as a tourist so among ourselves there's always the courtesy of saying hello. But often with us younger travelers we enjoy spending the day traveling to the sites together just to have other people or different people to talk to. So that's been fun especially since I'm on my own until I get to Delhi. Why are all the tourists I meet up with girls? I don't know. That's a good question. Hmmm.... hahah
Anyways, although I've done most of what there is to do in Amritsar (Golden Temple, Border Ceremony) I think I there are some temples I can visit and of course there's always just relaxing. Which is probably how I'll spend the rest of today. Sunday morning I leave for Delhi to catch up with Dr. Thanzauva and family which I'm looking forward to. It'll be nice to spend a week with some familiar faces after a week on the road. Also, today marks exactly 2 wks before I arrive back in the Lone Star State. Get excited America, I'm still coming back. Well, that's all I have for you now. Update to come mid-next week from Delhi.
pax et bonum
Friday, August 13, 2010
Incredible India
After leaving Mizoram I spent the night and the morning of the next day in Kolkatta. The difference was night and day, in fact I'm slowly overcoming a second culture shock. Mizoram is a peaceful place with lush, green rolling hills and friendly people. Entering Kolkatta is like a sensory bomb going off in your mind. There are so many people, vehicles, buildings, sights, and sounds that your mind literally cannot process all the information being sent to it at once. Rev. Zolawma set me up at a Mizoram guest house next to Mother Teresa's Mission (called "Motherhouse"). This section of town is less crowded and the streets have far less beggars so it was a nice place to slowly get adjusted.
The next day I was on a train headed out to Gaya. The train's I've booked are all AC units because I refuse to be on a train for 6-24 hrs during an Indian summer without AC (one 2.5 hr car ride from Waco to Houston without AC taught me that). The AC cars have small sections with bunk beds essentially. Thus far, I've had the top bunk which has been fun since only the bottom bunk can be converted into a bed. So my 6'2" body plus backpack must squeeze into a bunk made for someone who is 5'5".
My stay in Gaya was a quick one but filled with various happenings. I stopped in Gaya because it is the train station about 12 km away from Bodhgaya, the place where the Buddha achieved enlightenment. After a quick dinner and rest, I made the trip from Gaya to Bodhgaya via auto-rickshaw. Bodhgaya is an interesting place because the town is filled with Buddhist monasteries belonging to the major centers of Buddhism (i.e. China, Japan, Thailand, Tibet, etc.). I made my way to the temple built around the sacred spot where the Buddha meditated. I wish I could say I was able to spend some time under the Bodhi Tree contemplating the nature of the universe like the Buddha did over two millenia ago. However, my reflection was cut short as hustlers always wanted to talk to me. Here are some common Indian hustles:
"Hello sir, I am an English student and I would like to practice my English with you!"
"Hello sir, you are a foreigner so let me show you around the town." [After which the person will try to charge a large, bogus "tour guide fee"]
"Sir, instead of auto-rickshaw I will take you around on my motorcycle if you just pay for gas."
Basically, in India if anyone approaches you acting friendly or trying to help you, they just want your money. If you have to approach someone to help you, they will kindly do it for free. Needless to say, in the past few days I've begun to practice my anti-hustler techniques. Much to my mother's joy, I haven't really felt any danger at any point. I suppose being a foot taller than everyone helps but also because most people just want to cheat you, not hurt you (there's more money in a good con haha). But other than the hustlers, everyone is very nice. I walked into a Thai monastery and listened to a young monk talk for a while about Buddhist practices and his life as a monk. I snuck into a Tibetan monastery and ate momo during the heat of the day before having a big adventure traveling way out into the country to see the Dungeswari Cave Temple where the Buddha meditated.
Since my adventures in Gaya, I've been here in Varanasi staying with a former PTS student who has been kind enough to take me in. His name is Kerry, a PhD student at UC-Santa Barbra doing research on a unique expression of Christianity. He has been not only a great new friend, but an incredible resource into the life of people here in Varanasi. For instance, because of his contacts here in the city we were able to attend a Pentecostal home worship service amongst the dolet (formerly called "untouchable") community. I've been able to walk along the ghats, where Hindus come each day on pilgrimage to bathe in the holy river Ganges. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Hindu culture, Varanasi is Hinduism Jerusalem or Mecca. In addition, it's one of the oldest cities in the world with a culture that's remained nearly intact. The city would be akin to Athens if you could still go up to the Acropolis and listen to philosophers and intellectuals teaching.
I've eaten at incredible local restaurants and met a lot of friendly locals as well. Although I can't speak any Hindi, Kerry is able to translate everything for me. Today was quite hilarious as we found ourselves in a seminar marketing computer training software in a pyramid scheme. I wish I had time to write about it but needless to say I had a very enthusiastic young man sitting next to me yelling into my ear when to clap, shout, stand up, and telling me how many rupees I could make. Fun stuff. Oh, and I took a walk/boat ride at sunrise along the ghats to see the brahmins (holy men) praying, chanting, and performing ritual bathing alongside other devotees. As you can see, my brain is a little scattered. I've got so many experiences in my head to process it's tough to commit them all to page. Indeed, I think tonight Kerry wants us to go out after dinner to see a Shiva temple.
It'll be sad to leave Kerry and Varanasi tomorrow night as I'm just beginning to scratch the surface here. There is so much to this city to explore and to learn it's a pity I have such little time here. From here I'll spend a few days in Agra to see the Taj Mahal and other famous sites in the city. Then it's off to Amristar to spend three days admiring the Golden Temple and holy city of the Sikhs. On the 22nd I'll make my way to Delhi to say with Dr. Thanzauva and his sons who I befriended at AICS. By that time I'm sure I'll be desperate for some time with friends so I look forward to spending the week with them. Delhi will probably be my next chance for internet so I hope this blog can hold you over until then. Of course, time on the road might force me to spend some internet time connecting with the outside world so I might seek some time in at Amristar.
I hope all is well with everyone back home and although I am really enjoying my travels I look forward to some time stateside. Thanks for all the comments everyone, until next time...
pax et bonum
The next day I was on a train headed out to Gaya. The train's I've booked are all AC units because I refuse to be on a train for 6-24 hrs during an Indian summer without AC (one 2.5 hr car ride from Waco to Houston without AC taught me that). The AC cars have small sections with bunk beds essentially. Thus far, I've had the top bunk which has been fun since only the bottom bunk can be converted into a bed. So my 6'2" body plus backpack must squeeze into a bunk made for someone who is 5'5".
My stay in Gaya was a quick one but filled with various happenings. I stopped in Gaya because it is the train station about 12 km away from Bodhgaya, the place where the Buddha achieved enlightenment. After a quick dinner and rest, I made the trip from Gaya to Bodhgaya via auto-rickshaw. Bodhgaya is an interesting place because the town is filled with Buddhist monasteries belonging to the major centers of Buddhism (i.e. China, Japan, Thailand, Tibet, etc.). I made my way to the temple built around the sacred spot where the Buddha meditated. I wish I could say I was able to spend some time under the Bodhi Tree contemplating the nature of the universe like the Buddha did over two millenia ago. However, my reflection was cut short as hustlers always wanted to talk to me. Here are some common Indian hustles:
"Hello sir, I am an English student and I would like to practice my English with you!"
"Hello sir, you are a foreigner so let me show you around the town." [After which the person will try to charge a large, bogus "tour guide fee"]
"Sir, instead of auto-rickshaw I will take you around on my motorcycle if you just pay for gas."
Basically, in India if anyone approaches you acting friendly or trying to help you, they just want your money. If you have to approach someone to help you, they will kindly do it for free. Needless to say, in the past few days I've begun to practice my anti-hustler techniques. Much to my mother's joy, I haven't really felt any danger at any point. I suppose being a foot taller than everyone helps but also because most people just want to cheat you, not hurt you (there's more money in a good con haha). But other than the hustlers, everyone is very nice. I walked into a Thai monastery and listened to a young monk talk for a while about Buddhist practices and his life as a monk. I snuck into a Tibetan monastery and ate momo during the heat of the day before having a big adventure traveling way out into the country to see the Dungeswari Cave Temple where the Buddha meditated.
Since my adventures in Gaya, I've been here in Varanasi staying with a former PTS student who has been kind enough to take me in. His name is Kerry, a PhD student at UC-Santa Barbra doing research on a unique expression of Christianity. He has been not only a great new friend, but an incredible resource into the life of people here in Varanasi. For instance, because of his contacts here in the city we were able to attend a Pentecostal home worship service amongst the dolet (formerly called "untouchable") community. I've been able to walk along the ghats, where Hindus come each day on pilgrimage to bathe in the holy river Ganges. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Hindu culture, Varanasi is Hinduism Jerusalem or Mecca. In addition, it's one of the oldest cities in the world with a culture that's remained nearly intact. The city would be akin to Athens if you could still go up to the Acropolis and listen to philosophers and intellectuals teaching.
I've eaten at incredible local restaurants and met a lot of friendly locals as well. Although I can't speak any Hindi, Kerry is able to translate everything for me. Today was quite hilarious as we found ourselves in a seminar marketing computer training software in a pyramid scheme. I wish I had time to write about it but needless to say I had a very enthusiastic young man sitting next to me yelling into my ear when to clap, shout, stand up, and telling me how many rupees I could make. Fun stuff. Oh, and I took a walk/boat ride at sunrise along the ghats to see the brahmins (holy men) praying, chanting, and performing ritual bathing alongside other devotees. As you can see, my brain is a little scattered. I've got so many experiences in my head to process it's tough to commit them all to page. Indeed, I think tonight Kerry wants us to go out after dinner to see a Shiva temple.
It'll be sad to leave Kerry and Varanasi tomorrow night as I'm just beginning to scratch the surface here. There is so much to this city to explore and to learn it's a pity I have such little time here. From here I'll spend a few days in Agra to see the Taj Mahal and other famous sites in the city. Then it's off to Amristar to spend three days admiring the Golden Temple and holy city of the Sikhs. On the 22nd I'll make my way to Delhi to say with Dr. Thanzauva and his sons who I befriended at AICS. By that time I'm sure I'll be desperate for some time with friends so I look forward to spending the week with them. Delhi will probably be my next chance for internet so I hope this blog can hold you over until then. Of course, time on the road might force me to spend some internet time connecting with the outside world so I might seek some time in at Amristar.
I hope all is well with everyone back home and although I am really enjoying my travels I look forward to some time stateside. Thanks for all the comments everyone, until next time...
pax et bonum
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Closing Time
Well dear readers, my time in Mizoram has come to a close. I am now within 24 hours of leaving the place I have called home for the summer. While I felt like a stranger when I first arrived, I now consider many people here dear friends and family.
This past week has been incredibly busy as I've tried to finish up all my paperwork for Princeton and tie up any loose ends. In fact, PTS requires a 25 page report about my summer placement so I spent much of last week in the computer lab typing that up. A large part of my report focused on the negative effects of westernization on Mizos and the unconscious import of ethnocentric messages by the first missionaries. Perhaps one day I'll convert that into a paper and let you read it.
I also had fun this week because Friday night a set up a dance for the seminary. Mizos are a singing people but outside of traditional dances they don't have much. So we got together in the chapel, plugged in my iPod, and I started teaching them some different stuff. Since Mizos have a fascination with Texas and cowboys, I taught them a simple line dance and how to Texas two step. We had such a great time and I loved how energetic everyone was to learn. After about an hour or so most of the students left to get ready for church in the morning, but a couple guys stuck around and I taught them some hip hop moves.
When I got on the bus to go to church this morning, all the students said they had so much fun last night that we had to do it again. They told me when to be at the chapel tonight so that we could have another dance. One student said, "Austin! We should've been doing this all summer!" I loved it. Since I enjoy getting people together to dance everywhere I go, it's only right that India be no exception. We even had a faculty member join last night which was hilarious.
My time in Mizoram has been filled with joy and lots of time spent in quiet reflection. I've really treasured my time here and I consider it a great blessing. I can't believe that two months have gone by so fast. It seems like just yesterday I arrived here. Now I'm 25 days away from being back in the US but a great adventure is in store before then.
Here's the basic itinerary of my trip for the next 3 weeks:
8/10-8/11 Bodhgaya
8/12-8/14 Varanasi
8/15-8/18 Agra
8/19-8/21 Amristar
8/22-27 New Delhi
8/29-9/2 Kolkata
If I get access to the internet during my travels I will be sure to keep you posted. I imagine my updates will come about once a week, as they have here in Mizoram. Well, I hope you've enjoyed reading about my time in Mizoram as I have writing about it. One journey ends and another one begins. Until next time,
Pax et bonum
This past week has been incredibly busy as I've tried to finish up all my paperwork for Princeton and tie up any loose ends. In fact, PTS requires a 25 page report about my summer placement so I spent much of last week in the computer lab typing that up. A large part of my report focused on the negative effects of westernization on Mizos and the unconscious import of ethnocentric messages by the first missionaries. Perhaps one day I'll convert that into a paper and let you read it.
I also had fun this week because Friday night a set up a dance for the seminary. Mizos are a singing people but outside of traditional dances they don't have much. So we got together in the chapel, plugged in my iPod, and I started teaching them some different stuff. Since Mizos have a fascination with Texas and cowboys, I taught them a simple line dance and how to Texas two step. We had such a great time and I loved how energetic everyone was to learn. After about an hour or so most of the students left to get ready for church in the morning, but a couple guys stuck around and I taught them some hip hop moves.
When I got on the bus to go to church this morning, all the students said they had so much fun last night that we had to do it again. They told me when to be at the chapel tonight so that we could have another dance. One student said, "Austin! We should've been doing this all summer!" I loved it. Since I enjoy getting people together to dance everywhere I go, it's only right that India be no exception. We even had a faculty member join last night which was hilarious.
My time in Mizoram has been filled with joy and lots of time spent in quiet reflection. I've really treasured my time here and I consider it a great blessing. I can't believe that two months have gone by so fast. It seems like just yesterday I arrived here. Now I'm 25 days away from being back in the US but a great adventure is in store before then.
Here's the basic itinerary of my trip for the next 3 weeks:
8/10-8/11 Bodhgaya
8/12-8/14 Varanasi
8/15-8/18 Agra
8/19-8/21 Amristar
8/22-27 New Delhi
8/29-9/2 Kolkata
If I get access to the internet during my travels I will be sure to keep you posted. I imagine my updates will come about once a week, as they have here in Mizoram. Well, I hope you've enjoyed reading about my time in Mizoram as I have writing about it. One journey ends and another one begins. Until next time,
Pax et bonum
Thursday, July 29, 2010
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
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
Friday, July 23, 2010
TNT & Samsara
Today was quite a different day than I usually have around Mizoram because I visited one of the Christian social work centers. The experience was enlightening, challenging, encouraging, disheartening, and sobering all at the same time. The site I visited was Thutak Nunpuitu Team (TNT), one of the most popular organizations here in Mizoram. Founded in 1988 by an itinerate evangelist and healer, TNT literally means "those who live by truth team." As one church leader described the organization, "TNT is a strong organization engaged in uplifting destitute and marginalized people. The association makes use of different approaches in its ministry."
TNT has a staff of 68 workers who serve the 1,000 recipients comprised of orphans, recovering drug addicts, special needs, and impoverished. The enormous number of people in which the organization serves makes the site incredible. TNT exists as a campus sitting in the hills outside Aizawl. I didn't take any pictures of the place because I didn't want to seem like a tourist so this account will serve as the memory I have.
My tour began with a glimpse into the kitchen where the cooks were getting their first break of the day. Cooking for the first meal of the day begins at 1 am as huge black pots rougly 4 ft in diameter and 3 ft high are used to make breakfast. My guide said that cooking will continue non-stop for the rest of the day as finishing one meal simply begins the task of preparing for the next meal. Which makes sense when you consider that 1,000+ people must be fed twice a day (Mizos traditionally do not take lunch).
Next, we moved to the rehab center TNT runs. The center is divided into two sections based upon the progress of the participants. When a new person arrives, they are moved into a dorm until there are 10 people and then the treatment process begins. The dorms are much like barracks: large buildings with two rows of bunks running the length of the room. Beds are basic: wooden frame, bamboo thatch work for a mattress, blanket, and pillow. Each day operates under a tight schedule posted outside the hostel encompassing breakfast, cleaning the area, lecture, counseling, sermon, cleaning, counselling, dinner, prayers, sleep. I assume the schedule helps keep the minds of those in rehab off the thoughts of addiction.
From the rehab center we walked down to the orphanage. The orphanage houses aproximately 400 children ranging from elementary to high school. TNT employs teachers (who work for very little money) to educate the children in hopes that upon leaving they can get a job to support themselves. Many children are either former street children or literal orphans placed here by extended family. When I was there, class had ended so the children were running around playing with balls made of plastic bags tied with plastic netting to make a softball sized ball.
The dorms for children were quite saddening to see. The dorms were again in barrack like fashion but slightly altered. For example, the boys dorm was a large building divided into three or four sections probably 20 x 30 ft. The sides of the sections had two large concrete slabs, one above the other like bunk beds. The slabs, as I found out, were the beds for the children. The boys get a thin blank to place on their section of the concrete slab and then a worn, thin comforter with pillow. Since the children were awake I didn't see anyone sleeping but I could only imagine 300 boys sleeping next to each other on these concrete slabs called beds. The girls' dorm had the same set up but seemed a bit cleaner.
After exploring the orphanage section (the different functions of the campus are quite literal sections with clear distinctions), we visited the special needs area. This area particularly struck a cord with me. Perhaps subconscious flashbacks to my time in Mexico in high school began to play. Regardless, we entered through the gate where a large amount of construction was being done to create a new building for the patients. Here is where the understaffing of TNT really began to be displayed (in case you missed it, 68 workers for 1,000 people are not good numbers). The special needs children and adults are basically left to sit around or wander in gated areas with one or two supervisors watching. Their sleeping conditions are the same as the children. I almost lost it as I walked past a man lying on the concrete slab wrapped in his blanket like a cacoon. I'm no expert on caring for those with special needs, but I feel I can confidently say that these people could use many more caretakers.
We concluded our tour by checking out the dorm for the ranchhands and farms that work at TNT. As I discovered, TNT raised their own chickens, turkeys,and cattle to feed the residents. In addition, they grow many of their own crops to consume. As a result, TNT seeks to be as self-sustaining as possible in regards to food consumption. A great idea although the wooden floor was so old and filled with holes I was worried the floor would give out from under me.
Thus was the end of my tour of TNT. By the time came to leave, my head and heart were swirling with a number of complex emotions. On the one hand, I was saddened to see the living conditions of the children, recovering drug addicts, and special needs people living at TNT. Yet on the other hand, I couldn't deny that although I would consider the conditions far beyond sub-standard or acceptable, this was the best that could be provided. I mean, where else would these people go? TNT is providing as best they can so I have to be thankful and appreciative of that. And although I know I cannot demand standards which simply don't exist here, I couldn't help but wish TNT was able to provide more. But I imagine these sentiments would be shared by the TNT staff as well. Most of the staff, by the way, are unpaid and live and work at TNT solely because they wish to help people. That's truly inspiring.
Nevertheless, my tour of TNT reawakened the unsettling emotions which I have managed to escape from in the past two months in Mizoram. My time at AICS and my trip to Lunglei all showed me the best that Mizoram has to offer. Yet Mizoram, just like anywhere else in the world, has its broken places as well. Seeing these places brought back the pain which my heart has grown accustomed too and social consciousness I've been trying to burn into my being. But perhaps it's best I explain what I'm talking about...
The Hindu tradition has a word called samsara which is central to its perspective. Samsara is Sanskirt meaning "flow" or "runaround." As Dr. Charles Ryerson writes,
To be more clear, the more I travel around the world and the more I study, the greater my dissatisfaction with the world. To compound my state, I seem to experience the reality of my own limitations and subsequent frustrations. To know that right now people are dying from diseases cured fifty years ago, mothers choosing drugs over caring for their newborns, people killing each other, oppressing one another...well, such consciousness is a bit over-whelming. Perhaps for this reason when my mom asked about certain experiences I had in Africa I told her, "you don't want to know. It's best you not know some of the things I saw." The same is true for Princeton, Houston, Beijing, Aizawl, and everywhere else I've traveled.
I am reminded today of both why I am joining the ministry and why I am not the same person I was a year ago. My grandparents told me it's good to be aware but that I must also learn to accept that I can only do so much. I think that last part of advice is something I'm still struggling with. When I envision my future, I some times see myself back in Houston working amongst the poor and helping the city that birthed me. Yet, at other times (esp days like today) I can't help but think that I need to travel abroad to places where the standard of living is so far below what is considered poor in America. I guess ever since I was a child I wanted to change the world. But perhaps the world is not enough, I wish I could change the fundamental essense of the universe. I wish I could make poverty an outdated concept or idea that people study in history class but lack the historical proximity to truly understand the meaning of poverty.
But this is a fantasy. Even Jesus tells me, "the poor will always be among you." I must admit I'm now catching myself, realizing I'm bearing my soul to some readers who have never met me. My apologies. Suffice it to say, at this point in my life I am grappling with the reality of injustice while at the same time attempting to discern what role I will play in combating the issue. All the while ever reminded that no matter what I do, the powerful play will go on.
I will now attempt to close this long blog post. Indeed, if you've made it this far I applaud your diligence. What I want to leave you with is this: tonight, tomorrow, this week, this month I want you to look past the veil that is over our eyes. Go visit your local soup kitchen one Saturday morning or participate in your local faith traditions' social work program. See what life is like, have that experience placed into your consciousness. Then go live a life of generosity, kindness, love, and peace. You don't have to sell everything you own or quit your job to work at a prison ministry (or maybe for you that's true), but you do need to live a life marked by serving others. Because as a wise man once told me, "the world is in no greater need of people who say 'love your neighbor as yourself.' But the world is in desperate need of people who actually love like that."
pax et bonum
TNT has a staff of 68 workers who serve the 1,000 recipients comprised of orphans, recovering drug addicts, special needs, and impoverished. The enormous number of people in which the organization serves makes the site incredible. TNT exists as a campus sitting in the hills outside Aizawl. I didn't take any pictures of the place because I didn't want to seem like a tourist so this account will serve as the memory I have.
My tour began with a glimpse into the kitchen where the cooks were getting their first break of the day. Cooking for the first meal of the day begins at 1 am as huge black pots rougly 4 ft in diameter and 3 ft high are used to make breakfast. My guide said that cooking will continue non-stop for the rest of the day as finishing one meal simply begins the task of preparing for the next meal. Which makes sense when you consider that 1,000+ people must be fed twice a day (Mizos traditionally do not take lunch).
Next, we moved to the rehab center TNT runs. The center is divided into two sections based upon the progress of the participants. When a new person arrives, they are moved into a dorm until there are 10 people and then the treatment process begins. The dorms are much like barracks: large buildings with two rows of bunks running the length of the room. Beds are basic: wooden frame, bamboo thatch work for a mattress, blanket, and pillow. Each day operates under a tight schedule posted outside the hostel encompassing breakfast, cleaning the area, lecture, counseling, sermon, cleaning, counselling, dinner, prayers, sleep. I assume the schedule helps keep the minds of those in rehab off the thoughts of addiction.
From the rehab center we walked down to the orphanage. The orphanage houses aproximately 400 children ranging from elementary to high school. TNT employs teachers (who work for very little money) to educate the children in hopes that upon leaving they can get a job to support themselves. Many children are either former street children or literal orphans placed here by extended family. When I was there, class had ended so the children were running around playing with balls made of plastic bags tied with plastic netting to make a softball sized ball.
The dorms for children were quite saddening to see. The dorms were again in barrack like fashion but slightly altered. For example, the boys dorm was a large building divided into three or four sections probably 20 x 30 ft. The sides of the sections had two large concrete slabs, one above the other like bunk beds. The slabs, as I found out, were the beds for the children. The boys get a thin blank to place on their section of the concrete slab and then a worn, thin comforter with pillow. Since the children were awake I didn't see anyone sleeping but I could only imagine 300 boys sleeping next to each other on these concrete slabs called beds. The girls' dorm had the same set up but seemed a bit cleaner.
After exploring the orphanage section (the different functions of the campus are quite literal sections with clear distinctions), we visited the special needs area. This area particularly struck a cord with me. Perhaps subconscious flashbacks to my time in Mexico in high school began to play. Regardless, we entered through the gate where a large amount of construction was being done to create a new building for the patients. Here is where the understaffing of TNT really began to be displayed (in case you missed it, 68 workers for 1,000 people are not good numbers). The special needs children and adults are basically left to sit around or wander in gated areas with one or two supervisors watching. Their sleeping conditions are the same as the children. I almost lost it as I walked past a man lying on the concrete slab wrapped in his blanket like a cacoon. I'm no expert on caring for those with special needs, but I feel I can confidently say that these people could use many more caretakers.
We concluded our tour by checking out the dorm for the ranchhands and farms that work at TNT. As I discovered, TNT raised their own chickens, turkeys,and cattle to feed the residents. In addition, they grow many of their own crops to consume. As a result, TNT seeks to be as self-sustaining as possible in regards to food consumption. A great idea although the wooden floor was so old and filled with holes I was worried the floor would give out from under me.
Thus was the end of my tour of TNT. By the time came to leave, my head and heart were swirling with a number of complex emotions. On the one hand, I was saddened to see the living conditions of the children, recovering drug addicts, and special needs people living at TNT. Yet on the other hand, I couldn't deny that although I would consider the conditions far beyond sub-standard or acceptable, this was the best that could be provided. I mean, where else would these people go? TNT is providing as best they can so I have to be thankful and appreciative of that. And although I know I cannot demand standards which simply don't exist here, I couldn't help but wish TNT was able to provide more. But I imagine these sentiments would be shared by the TNT staff as well. Most of the staff, by the way, are unpaid and live and work at TNT solely because they wish to help people. That's truly inspiring.
Nevertheless, my tour of TNT reawakened the unsettling emotions which I have managed to escape from in the past two months in Mizoram. My time at AICS and my trip to Lunglei all showed me the best that Mizoram has to offer. Yet Mizoram, just like anywhere else in the world, has its broken places as well. Seeing these places brought back the pain which my heart has grown accustomed too and social consciousness I've been trying to burn into my being. But perhaps it's best I explain what I'm talking about...
The Hindu tradition has a word called samsara which is central to its perspective. Samsara is Sanskirt meaning "flow" or "runaround." As Dr. Charles Ryerson writes,
The dominant metaphor for this word is water, either the ocean or a river. Samsara is what one must be liberated or saved from. In this view, as a person becomes more conscious, and consciousness is a key term, one feels more the frustrations and limitations of life. The deeper one thinks and feels, the more one finds that one is in pain because one longs for what the phenomenal world cannot give. This becomes genuine suffering on the deepest level.Although I am not a Hindu, I think that this description properly describes a feeling that has developed in me over the past year. Indeed, before leaving for India I had a long conversation with my grandfather. He told me, "Austin, I feel as though you are not the same happy go lucky person that you were last summer. You have changed, become more serious." His remarks were not alone as a friend told me the same before I left Princeton. I went on to explain to my grandfather my experiences around the world which have been incredibly difficult for me to experience and process. Indeed, my growing awareness and meditation on the conditions of people around the world have lead to a growing cynicism and seriousness in my approach.
To be more clear, the more I travel around the world and the more I study, the greater my dissatisfaction with the world. To compound my state, I seem to experience the reality of my own limitations and subsequent frustrations. To know that right now people are dying from diseases cured fifty years ago, mothers choosing drugs over caring for their newborns, people killing each other, oppressing one another...well, such consciousness is a bit over-whelming. Perhaps for this reason when my mom asked about certain experiences I had in Africa I told her, "you don't want to know. It's best you not know some of the things I saw." The same is true for Princeton, Houston, Beijing, Aizawl, and everywhere else I've traveled.
I am reminded today of both why I am joining the ministry and why I am not the same person I was a year ago. My grandparents told me it's good to be aware but that I must also learn to accept that I can only do so much. I think that last part of advice is something I'm still struggling with. When I envision my future, I some times see myself back in Houston working amongst the poor and helping the city that birthed me. Yet, at other times (esp days like today) I can't help but think that I need to travel abroad to places where the standard of living is so far below what is considered poor in America. I guess ever since I was a child I wanted to change the world. But perhaps the world is not enough, I wish I could change the fundamental essense of the universe. I wish I could make poverty an outdated concept or idea that people study in history class but lack the historical proximity to truly understand the meaning of poverty.
But this is a fantasy. Even Jesus tells me, "the poor will always be among you." I must admit I'm now catching myself, realizing I'm bearing my soul to some readers who have never met me. My apologies. Suffice it to say, at this point in my life I am grappling with the reality of injustice while at the same time attempting to discern what role I will play in combating the issue. All the while ever reminded that no matter what I do, the powerful play will go on.
I will now attempt to close this long blog post. Indeed, if you've made it this far I applaud your diligence. What I want to leave you with is this: tonight, tomorrow, this week, this month I want you to look past the veil that is over our eyes. Go visit your local soup kitchen one Saturday morning or participate in your local faith traditions' social work program. See what life is like, have that experience placed into your consciousness. Then go live a life of generosity, kindness, love, and peace. You don't have to sell everything you own or quit your job to work at a prison ministry (or maybe for you that's true), but you do need to live a life marked by serving others. Because as a wise man once told me, "the world is in no greater need of people who say 'love your neighbor as yourself.' But the world is in desperate need of people who actually love like that."
pax et bonum
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