Same Race, Different Rats

     One of the reasons why I left "Corporate America" was to rid myself of the toxic effects of working---and by working I mean living, breathing and sleeping work because that is what working in "Corporate America" requires (if you want to be the best that is, and who doesn't want to be and do the best in whatever they do?)---in an environment so greatly influenced by the "Rat Race."  Yes, sure the money can be enticing, but accompanied by the never-ending competition of what car you drive, how much money you make or what designer brand you are wearing, some are caused to really question whether such a profession is worth the headache while others attempt to cope with the self-degrading reminder that you truly don't possess any value until you can keep up with the Jones'.  So I decided that if I am going to deal with such a materialistic value system, I might as well do so while in a profession that is aimed to help the less fortunate, discouraged, disempowered or devalued.  Now, please don't mistake my dislike of the rat race as a disapproval of enjoying some of the finer things of life because I too enjoy some of these indulgences.  What I am referring to is allowing such a value system to be carried over into your personal life where the value of people and life itself is determined by a price tag.  Therefore, in an effort to rid myself of such surface-level living, or so I thought, I took steps toward preparing for a career in the ministry/non-profit/academic/philanthropic arena.  I soon learned that the rat race isn't an "effect" of "Corporate America."  It's an effect of the human race, the human need to feel superior.  Deciding to work toward achieving a higher education, I quickly realized that the race did not stop, but rather continued, only using different rats this time.  Instead of what car, it's from what school is your degree.  Instead of how much money, it's how many SAT vocabulary words you use while speaking.  Again, I am not discouraging nor frowning upon any educational accolades or articulate speech deserving recognition.  However, I can't tell you how many times I have had conversations where people are not described first by their sincere and kind actions or introspective thinking through real-life experiences, but rather the number of degrees they have and from which schools as if the latter is a true indication of the person's deserved level of respect.  What ever happened to not judging a book by its cover?  What ever happened to a person's level of respect being determined by their actions and interactions with others?  As I sigh to myself, oh how silly I was to think that I was escaping such a superficial value system.  We just can't help ourselves.  Again, I return to my "Superiority Complex" thesis.  
    One of the best things I love with being in a third-world country is that I can wear the same sweatshirt or pair of jeans (ensuring that it is clean and smelling fresh of course) three times in ONE week and no one cares.  No one points out the fact that I am not wearing a different outfit each day.  No one cares that I am not matching from head to toe.  It's not about me being lazy or dirty.  It's about recognizing that there are way more important things to be worried about like water or from where the next meal will come.  Of course third-world countries too suffer from the effects of their own version of the rat race, but because this is not my context, because I am here only temporarily, I am able to escape my world's rat race and just simply live in another's without the effects, able to be an observer and be reminded of the things that truly do matter in this world so that when I leave this place I am hopefully made stronger and that much more encouraged to be the change I desire to see.

Week 4...CHECK!

This week I...

• Enjoyed a rooftop BBQ with the young folk crew.  Hamburgers, chicken, and vegetable kabobs with sweet rolls is what was for dinner.  I learned how to play Indian pool while listening to some U.S. R&B, pop and Christian tunes.  It's funny that even in being thousands of miles away in India, the taste in music still overlaps.  Globalization or Westernization...I will let you decide.

 

Getting the grill started

Indian pool

• Accompanied the students to Mercy Park.  This is the track-and-field stadium where the big inter-school games competition will take place.  The athletes took a half-day fieldtrip to practice on the real grounds.  The exciting while also frustrating part of teaching in India is I never know what to expect when walking into the athletics practice each morning.  While planning to return back to my room immediately following practice for some needed studying, my plans were soon changed when I was informed that I would be riding on a bus with 40 kids to practice offsite at another field and not return until about lunchtime.  Ummmm...I was so not prepared for this and all I could think about was that I have no toilet paper (when travelling to other places in India, you must always carry toilet paper because not all restroom facilities provide such, if you know what I mean;)  Anyway, lesson learned.  I am always prepared for the unexpected when coming to sports practice.



Waiting to board the bus

• Finally began practicing with the school's older choir members for a gospel choir group  and boy are they SANGIN'!!! Because they are excited, I am even more excited.  I guess the other students also agreed that they sounded great because once practice was over, a number of faces could be seen lined up against the window, peering in and listening.

• In light of the Trayvon Martin case and verdict, my subject this week in class dealt with the evils and violence associated with identity.  In India, religion is what identifies and divides people.  In the U.S., it is race.  While there are other factors that are considered by many in the identities of citizens of both countries, religion and race in each respective country is the primary form of identification.  In comparing the race issue in the U.S. (offering my assistance with this portion of course) with the religion issue in India, I asked the children to list the effects of such divisions or distinctions for each country.  Some words that came up for both included VIOLENCE, CASTE, FEAR, and HATE.  Is it ironic that two different countries, with two different issues end up with very similar results??  I think not.  I label this as one of the human ties that bind all of us together--The "Superiority Complex."  Unlike Alfred Adler, I use this term not to explain the need to make one's self feel superior because of an entrenched and hidden issue of feeling inferior, but the need to make one's self feel superior because of fear of the other and all that such an unknown could possibly entail---hmmm, I think I just found my next blog (stay tuned...;)  Anyway, I asked the students what they could do differently.  If they are our future, how will they change it?  Do they believe it should be changed?  While everyone unanimously agreed that something does need to change, I had to pull teeth to get responses about what each student's individual contribution could be in helping to foster such a change.  I am still working on this, but the discussion was interesting nonetheless.

 

Week 3...CHECK!

 This week I...

• Attended a seminar on the book of Revelation- What stuck out to me, you ask?  I would say Dr. Carr (the professor who led the seminar) and his discussion of God being a God of justice, standing with the poor and oppressed, and how the church is to hasten the coming of the kingdom by also fighting for justice, standing for the poor and oppressed, and etc. here on earth. "Hastening the kingdom"....hmmmm. I'm still pondering this one...

• Made homemade pizzas from scratch (dough and sauce INCLUDED!) 

• Dinner picnic with the young folk at Dolphin's Nose

• Met with my Senior Girls group and the topic chosen for next week....FEMALE INFANTICIDE.  I LOVE this group of girls.  Girls dealing with real issues.

• While in the midst of teaching, I asked a young boy to read a scripture as part of my lesson, but he repeatedly refused to do so, but in a very polite and respectful way.  The type of manner in which you could not get upset with his outright disregard of your request as the teacher.  So obviously throwing me for a loop, I inquired as to why he can't read the simple single verse and he replies, "I am Hindu."  Well, I can't say I have ever heard that before.  Needless to say, I moved on to the next student, but those few minutes, those few exchanged words created a moment I will never forget.

• I indulged a little this week. I enjoyed a half hour back and shoulder massage.  I mean others had told me about this place and needing to go there, so I did the only responsible thing and went in to check out the services and ensure that everything was up to standard.  Don't worry, I was sure not to overdo it, hence just the 30 minute massage, but after having to only pay a little over $7, I have stamped the establishment as MASSAGE SERVICE APPROVED.     

 

Food, Food and More Food!

Chapati (tortilla-looking bread), lady's fingers (okra), rice and dal

     In coming to India, one of my biggest hesitations was...yes, you guessed...THE FOOD!  Not only do I not like spicy food, but the thought of having to eat a vegetarian diet for the majority of my meals was not exactly something I met with open arms.  However, if being a vegetarian was ever wrong, then I don't wanna' be right!!!  Truth is that changing my diet to better mirror that of a vegetarian is something that has been on my heart and mind for some time now.  So a vegetarian diet wasn't something I feared in coming to India, per say, but such a change is very different and better received when it is done by choice rather than by circumstantial force.  Anyway, my fears were all for nothing.  The food is ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS here!  Who would ever thought that okra (termed as "lady's fingers" in India) could taste so good.  While most food served in India is spicy, my site has been very accommodating in toning down the spicy levels.  Taking note of all types of recipes and ingredients, I may actually be ready to start eating a vegetarian diet (until 6pm that is;) when I return to the states.



The dining area where the delicious meals are served

Breakfast time at the school

Community lunch after church

 

Speed Bump...

      While I am truly grateful for the opportunity to travel, learn and serve abroad, there are moments when the phrase "no place like home" rings loud and clear. 

Moments like...

1. When there is no water in order to use the bathroom, let alone shower, after going on a 5 mile run;
2. When the idea of bubble-space does not exist and while there may be a complete open and empty row of stadium seats, the tiny little seating space on the edge of the row right next to me is the preferred seat of choice;
3. When the internet is actually up and running, but the connection cannot function long enough for me to even speak the three words "I love you" when speaking to my family;
4. When I have no idea what is being said or laughed about in a group setting because the English accent sounds so much like the local language; or
5. When after a week full of teaching, serving, reading, studying and worshipping, following Sunday's service, I go home alone without my own family-filled activities that usually take place on a Sunday afternoon.

      I am not complaining, but rather highlighting the things we often take for granted.  The list mentioned above consists of what two-thirds of the world would call privileges.  Growing up in California, I was always made aware of the need to conserve water because of the state's "water shortage."  I purposely emphasize this phrase because I laugh at such a thought now.  Californians have no idea what the words "water shortage" truly mean.  Try turning on the faucet and having nothing come out, try not being able to flush the toilet for days at a time, try not being able to shower weeks at a time.  And what about the water that is used to prepare meals?  Water.  So simple, yet so critical and easily overlooked until it becomes no longer easily accessible.
      Although I am a person who enjoys their personal time and space, I am not afraid to be crowded around or pressed up against.  In India because of the cultural understandings between men and women, such close encounters are usually between the same sex.  So please don't send in the troops, I am fine.  My personal bubble-space has only been invaded by women.  And like Jesus, I know how to escape the crowd and get away to be by myself when necessary, but when it's not, I embrace this lack of fear or hesitation to touch or be near to one another because I believe it is a distinguishing sign of difference between the Indian culture of community and the U.S. culture of individualism.  I believe that if Americans were more open to touching each other (in the community sense), we would make greater strides toward achieving a society of racial, class/economic, religious, etc. unity.
      I wrote a 15-page research paper on the topic of humans being wired for love and needing social interaction for proper development at all stages of life, but what's funny is that this thesis--my thesis--didn't become alive, per say, until I applied it to myself (funny how that worked, huh?).  This year at seminary and then again being reminded while here in India, I recognized that I need to interact with people.  Sometimes desiring to just be left alone, I have to force myself to get out and just hang.  Otherwise, life becomes really dark.  I don't know how else to explain it, but in order to receive the necessary personal recharge to make it through the week, I need intimate interaction--intimate meaning an environment where I feel completely comfortable with being myself.  Therefore, while adjusting to my new environment, my Skype calls and emails with my family and close friends are very important for me.  In support of the previous paragraph about community, I am a strong believer that we truly do need each other. 
     So as I fight feelings of home-sickness or frustration, I will call such feelings "speed bumps" because just like speed bumps they force me to slow down, to contemplate on and count my blessings and remember what truly is important.  These feelings are speed bumps because they do not stop me from following this path God has set before me, but rather allow me extra time to take in what is needed presently so that I am better prepared for the road up ahead.

Just a Typical Weekend in India

GREAT COMPANY

=

GOOD TIMES!!!

This weekend was fantabulous!!!  On Friday night, I headed out with "the crew" for a picnic dinner at a spot known as "Dolphin's Nose."  We drove further up the mountains in order to come to a dead-end point where apparently many come to enjoy the night skies and view of the local city, Coimbatore.  What was on the menu you ask?  Homemade chicken sandwiches, Pringles' cheddar-flavored chips, apple juice and for dessert, chocolate!  It was a dinner of champions topped with youthful laughter, familiar tunes and a beautiful open night sky.

On Sunday, I headed out again to the infamous "Beverly Hills of India" home for a night of homemade pizza making, cookies and cream ice cream eating and Sweeney Todd movie watching.  Even after a long and event-filled weekend and time spent cooking in the kitchen, I still found myself up and talking into the wee hours of the night with my India partner in crime, Salome, and her long-time family friend "Cheriyan Uncle," who is more like a real uncle than a title of respect (in India, "Mr." and "Mrs." are replaced with "Aunty" and "Uncle").  As time progresses and I spend more time with my new Indian family here, I realize that it may be harder than anticipated to say good-bye when the time presents itself.

    

"Riding in the Car with Strangers" Anxiety

     For those of you who know me, riding in the car with strangers (better known as my "RITCS Anxiety"--Riding in the Car with Strangers Anxiety) is not one of my favorite extracurricular activities.  Now, before you frown up your face and do the passive sigh or eye roll of indignation, please note that this is a retelling of my triumph of, victory over, or change from this old behavior.  I don't know why the thought--or Lord forbid, the actual event of having to transport or ride along with unfamiliar people made me so uncomfortable until now.  Before, I would have responded with what justified as me being overly conscientious of others, caring too much about pleasing the other person, or wanting to ensure that everyone was comfortable because after all, you didn't want to be "that" person who talked too much or didn't talk enough, played the music too loud or not loud enough, or was too cautious of a driver or not enough.  And let's not even talk about the awkward possibility of just having silence!!!  Now, I could enjoy music or silence without an issue, talking or just sitting without protest, but what if the other person was not??  I would hate to make anyone feel uncomfortable or put in a situation where expressing their personal preferences would be incommodious.  Silly-sounding to most, but to me, it was not.  I was so convinced that my reasoning behind such an anxiety was about the other person, that I never considered that the true underlying reason was really about myself.  I was not comfortable with myself--not the socially awkward type of discomfort, but rather the sense of self type of comfort.  My lack of self-confidence in things so small as my own ability to hold a decent intelligent conversation to expressing my own preferences with the possibility of someone else disagreeing with them, clearly demonstrated that Monique was not truly comfortable or confident in Monique.  This anxiety had nothing to do with strangers or the possibility of having nothing to talk about or being seen as incompetent in driving or stimulating conversation.  It was about me being okay with such possibilities, while recognizing, knowing and owning who I was to myself.  Whether I enjoy silence, driving recklessly, or discussing non-world changing matters such as the number of funny faces my daughter can make in one minute, is a representation of who I am and since I can only be me, I must be the best me possible and perform such with great confidence.  

 

Needless to say, my time in India has not only forced me to meet, discuss and engage with complete strangers by myself, but has also forced me to do so with the moments of silence.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I was absolutely conscious of the notion that this would most likely be something of the norm during my time in India.  Therefore, while I came expecting and anticipating, God had already prepared and was simply waiting on me.  I have not only felt completely comfortable in such situations including the "oh-so-dreaded" moments of silence, but the source of my RITCS Anxiety was also made evident to me.  I recognize that many of us struggle with self-confidence issues, but it wasn't until now that I realized how such struggles become apparent even in some of the smallest, most meaningless or simplest life activities.  How much we miss out on life because of our own self issues?!  I have had some of the best conversations and met some of the most inspiring and encouraging people and had I been anywhere else at any other time before coming to India, I would have possibly missed out on the creation of memories that I will never forget.

Week 2...CHECK!

I have made it through my second week and I think I am finally getting in a routine.  My body has adjusted to the time change and the altitude level so that I am able to get up early, go for a run, and engage in some personal devotion time before my day gets started.

 
 
 
 
 
 
Last week was a big deal for the school I'm teaching at as they were preparing for what is called "Sports Day."  This is a day where the children compete amongst each other in various track and field events.  The children are split between four different groups or houses, each having their own set of team captains, event athletes and cheers.  Parents, teachers and dignitaries came out to support.  It was pretty exciting!   


 The evening meetings at the hostel have been going well so far.  My only challenge is the boys groups.  I struggle with finding ways to peak their interest.  What do boys want to talk about?  Do they even want to talk?  What are the issues they face?  My time with the girls comes so naturally for the obvious reasons, but when preparing for my time with the boys, I find it a little difficult.  Needless to say, a little extra prayer is said for these meetings.

Sunday church service was good.  It was first Sunday so we had communion and then a community lunch following service.  I had a chance to talk and get to know some other church members.  It felt good to just laugh.  Following that, I tagged along with a few members to another member's house.  Apparently, he lives in what is described as the "Beverly Hills" of Coonoor.  It was beautiful!  So much land, organic gardens, beautiful flowers and landscape, art decorated walls, big bedrooms and bathrooms, flat screen t.v.s and etc.  However, what I liked best was that the living room did not have a t.v.  So what did we do??  Talked, laughed, shared, and everything else people in community do.  Imagine that!  Life without being entertained by the t.v. for a change.  It felt so comfortable and genuine.  I got to ask my numerous "foreigner" questions about India and discuss Indian politics, culture and society.  It truly was a good time.  I can't wait to do it again next Sunday.

 

The "Question Box"

Senior Girls Group

        For one hour in the evening, four times a week, I meet with four different groups of children to have a Bible study, play games, do activities or crafts, or just talk.  Each group is divided up between boys and girls and their age.  So each night has a different atmosphere, but I am enjoying it.  I meet in their hostel room or dormitory, bring my own lesson and get to really know the children.  It's so interesting to hear and discuss the issues faced or dealt with in another culture.  With my senior girls group, I have a "Question Box."  This is a box where each girl has the opportunity to anonymously write down any question they may have and place it in the box.  During the last five minutes of each of our sessions, we will read a question and discuss as a group.  No question is off limit!  This past week, the question was "how do you know if you are in love or lust?"  Whew!  I have to really be sure that I am prayed up for these meetings.  Between the silence in the room while I responded and their persistent requests to read another question, I think I can say they really like this "Question Box" idea.  One thing is for sure, no matter how different the culture or traditions, at the end of the day, girls (black, white, red, brown, Christian, Hindu or Muslim) will still be girls.  

I Guess I Did Say I Wanted to be Stretched

 I attended my first Sunday worship service in India, and to my surprise, in spite of the different culture, singing and worship style, I still felt at home.  However, I'm not really appreciating God's sense of humor.  Part of my internship requires that I meet with my site supervisor on a weekly basis, so during our meeting, my site supervisor who is the Pastor of the church I am serving with tells me that he will be preaching this Sunday and that I will do a solo right before his sermon.

WAIT...WHAT!!!

 

TIMEOUT...FOUL...FLAG ON THE PLAY...you want me to do what?  The song before the preached word usually prepares not only the congregation for what is about to be shared, but the preacher as well.  Are you sure you want me to do that song???  I don't know why they are not hearing me when I say that I am a GROUP SINGER!!!  I have a little musical training and love singing, but that qualifies me as nothing more than...well...as having a little musical training and a love of singing.  I can make speeches and talk in front of a crowd all day, but tell me to sing...ahhhh!!!  The melody and tempo in my head just doesn't always come out the same way through my mouth.  So I laugh because I have come all the way to India and in addition to the teaching element, I am to lead and direct a gospel choir and sing solos in church, and I know God is chuckling.  Nonetheless, I sang "Because of Who You Are" (I think that's the title) and graciously, people applauded at the end.  Again, however, it could be the whole foreigner thing...lol.  Seriously, it wasn't that bad, but when I said I wanted to be stretched, I didn't necessarily say that to include my vocal chords. 

Week 1...CHECK!!!

ONE WEEK DOWN, NINE MORE TO GO!

   Well, I can officially say that I have lived in India for one whole week!!!  I can't believe it has already been a week.  Time is going by so fast. 

I presented my first lecture or class for the Values Education course.  I did my lesson on PURPOSE, using Jeremiah 1:4-10; 17-19.  We talked about our goals, passions and purpose in life and how those are received or discouraged by others based upon what the world sees as limitations or inadequacies such as age, lack of education, low or no income, etc.  However, if God has said that you will do it, then no one can stand in the way of that.  And not only will you do it, but God will equip you and give you what you need.  We talked about Jeremiah's response and how sometimes we too get caught up in what the world says is needed to succeed at anything, losing sight of who and how great God really is.  No matter the situation, our lives are not a mistake and we are here for a purpose. 

I teach three classes so, I taught this lesson three times.  Not only is having to repeat yourself three times exhausting, but having to do it in a way that is best received by each individual class.  Each group of students is different, and you have to go in very attentive and observant so that you can pick up on what works or doesn't work for each class.  Nonetheless, I acted and retold the story in a way that they could understand and relate.  They responded with positive feedback and comments, but I don't know if that's because they really liked the lesson or are just temporarily entertained by the idea of being taught by a foreigner...for the sake of my pride, I will just go with the former.     

The students are just like any other 11th or 12th grader.  They giggle and chatter in the back of the classroom and then have nothing to say when you call on them.  However, they respond with "yes, ma'am" and "no, ma'am" and they stand when you enter the classroom and stand when you leave.  It's quite lovely, I must admit.  It kind of makes me feel legit coming into a classroom of well-groomed, uniformed children who greet me with respect and I LOVE IT--teaching that is...lol.  However, seriously, I know it's only been the first class, but I really do feel like this is my element, but do me a favor and ask me about this statement after the 10 weeks have been completed;)