Ulti Pulti

Hindi has all these great sounding phrases like "ulti pulti," which approximates to up-side-down in English. That's exactly how my life has been lately.  I left my second home on June 6th and was...

on 3 continents
in 3 countries
in 4 states
in 12 cities
in 2 weeks.

My puppy, Jazz, traveled with me through the 3 continents, 3 countries, 1 state, & 1 city. I celebrated my older sister's marriage and then took off to visit friends in St. Louis before finally landed in a wonderful wooded haven outside of Ashland, Ohio. I had never been  to Ohio. It was nice. The weather was beautiful and cool (at least for me...coming from 127, 88 can feel quite comfortable).  I met some amazing people & experienced God in a new way...a way I had always thought was possible, but had never had experienced until now.

After the week in Ohio, I headed back to Texas to see my grandma and catch my breath before heading to California. I took a month to think through what this year might look like being back in the US. It also gave me some time to decompress & take in the reverse cultural shock a sip at a time.

Here are the funny things & thoughts of one returning to a land that seems as foreign as it does familiar ....

I bought a head of cabbage thinking it was lettuce. How is one to really tell what they are buying when it is all pre-packaged and wrapped in that horrible plastic!?!  How in the world can they justify having only self-check out.  Someone is being put out of a job. Don't people realize these things. Isn't creating jobs more important than making things more convenient for people?

While driving, I must continue to remind myself...right side, right side, right side, especially when making turns.  By the way, can one make a left on a red light from one 1-way street onto another 1-way street?  I guess here we really do have to follow the rules, including staying within the lines, stopping at red lights no matter what time of day it is even though there isn't any traffic.

I have completely forgotten how to make a bed using fitted sheets. How are you suppose to be able tell which side runs along the top and which runs along the sides?

I must confess, I would rather risk getting sick and drink Indian water, than drink Waco water. It tastes horrible!

When unpacking my kitchen things (which I haven't seen in 4 years) I pulled out a bangle holder and wondered why it was with my kitchen things...then I realized it was a mug holder. This, of course, reminded me that my favorite mugs are packed away and being stored in India. Just like the bed spread set & pillow cases that go with the pillows that are here in America.  My can opener is still in India along with all my blankets. I am thankful I stored some things. I have the basics to get me started.

One of the difficult things about being back is the abundance of privacy and the distance and space between people.  There's this expectation to accomplish so much in one day...almost as much as was accomplished in one week back home. I feel like I'm on slow mode while the rest of the world efficiently passes me by.

To end on a strangely funny note...

As I was walking the two blocks to my friend's house with Jazz, I had to stop at an intersection to wait for traffic to pass. At the front of this line of traffic was a police car. He slowed when he came to the corner and looked me up and down. Yep, he was checking to see if I was a prostitute. There was one just up the street.  It was so ironically funny to me.  I guess in the right context anywhere, a woman is going to be assumed to be something she's not. My friend & I had a good laugh about this considering she was in one of the cars behind the police car and saw this crazy incident occur.

I want a Coke...

Sigh, I want a Coke. It seems to be a simple thing but it's not. It's after dark...about 7:30pm.  I can't go out by myself at this point.  There isn't a really close place which I would feel safe to just walk to quickly and come back. There are places that I could order a Coke from but there are minimum order requirements. I don't want or need anything else.  Sigh, I can't get my Coke.  It's moments like these when I feel like a prisoner in my own house.  It's something small like this that could send me into a pity party, especially on a day like this...Mother's Day.  If I had a husband, then he could go get the Coke or we could go together. If I had a son, then he could go get it or we could go get it together.  Yep, it's the simple things like wanting a Coke after dark that try to snare your heart into feeling sorry for yourself and see only what you don't have instead of focusing on what you do have.

Ankur and Second Chance

Ankur means seedling. It is the vocational program of The Ashish Foundation for the Differently-Abled (AFDA).  It trains students with ASD in various skills in order for them to gain more independence. They have learned to make things such as candles, holiday cards and gift envelopes, jewelry, purses, paper mache items, Christmas decorations and tree ornaments, mini waste bins, pencil stands, book marks, and needle-point articles. They sell their items, which are very popular, and produce them year round.  They are also taught workplace skills such as appropriate hygiene, dress, language and vocabulary, and interview skills. The students learn to be fiscally responsible and have bank accounts. Many of these students will one day be able to be in the workforce.

To increase their opportunities to  practice and implement these skills, as well as start to earn a salary, AFDA has established Second Chance, a thrift store. This is a new concept here in India.  It has been interesting to educate and enlist people to donate appropriate items which can be sold in the store. The donations are flooding in from individuals and businesses alike as the work gets out.  The students of Ankur are employed to run the store. They do most of the work. In the first month they earned enough to pay for all the expenses, so they were able to receive salaries. It was such a proud moment for the students, their families, and everyone who has worked so hard to make this happen.

The Daily Office

Observing The Daily Office is something I have done in various seasons of my life. When I have observed this practice of slowing down and pausing to center on the One who created me, then my life has been much more doable.  In the seasons in which I have neglected to do so, my life has been a mess such as the current season of my life. 

As I reading a book, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality, by Peter Scazzero (which I highly recommend) I was prompted with an image...chai.  As he described the routine of pausing and centering on God, I thought of the natural pauses which occur here every day around chai breaks.  I recognized how the practice of The Daily Office is naturally built into this society and culture unlike my own.  Now it doesn't have any benefits if chai time is used for shop talk, but if used intentionally it could actually produce some healthy fruit.

Life for Women in Delhi

If you ever wanted to know what life is like for a woman, including myself, in Delhi then watch this video.

http://www.aljazeera.com/programmes/101east/2012/04/201242482823627221.html

The Frist Week

If the first week sets the tone for my time working with The Ashish Centre, then there will never be a dull moment and I am going to learn a lot.

First, I am doing something that I never thought I would ever do or enjoy...grant writing. I am looking for grants for the school. I enjoy doing research and making a case on the behalf of another.

Second, this job is going to be tough. Already I am reminded of my days at Brook Ave. The first day on the job I sat in on a meeting concerning the welfare of a student. The school has a strong evidence that the student might be being sexually abused. 2 out of 3 children are physically abused in India. Just over 50% of them are sexually abused. You can read the full government report at http://wcd.nic.in/childabuse.pdf. My state has higher than average reported rates for both physical and sexual abuse. In fact, it is in the top 4 worst cities. Due to the children we work with having a mental disability they are more vulnerable to such things.

Third, the other day a group of drunken men out campaigning for the current elections surrounded one of our school vans and smashed in the front windshield. Luckily, no one was hurt.

On a funny note, the driver of one of our consultants got drunk and/or high that he couldn't even stand up. She had to call a taxi to come get her. He's going to be looking for a new job.

Working here I also get to see miraculous things. One of the students had a birthday. The centre always celebrates birthdays in a big way. This particular student's mom hired a band to come play. It was a pretty exciting time. It was fun to see the children having fun and getting up and dancing. Some of them had no inhibitions. They joyfully danced. I wished that I would be like that. Of course, for some the music was painful so they were being comforted, wearing ear protective gear like at a shooting range, and some had to be removed. Even with these children, I thought...wouldn't it be nice to be able to express our pain openly. These children freely express themselves. They are blunt and direct. They do not hide. I think we hurt ourselves by keeping things inside. I don't mean sharing it with everyone, but with a trusted few. We were created to live in community and share one another's joys and sorrows. These kids are teaching me something about being real.

The other thing they are already teaching me is that we are all disabled, or as we say at the centre---differently-abled. The students and their families have to come to terms with this and learn to live despite their disabilities. In fact, it is sometimes through their disabilities we see God more clearly. I think it is true for all of us. We are all differently-abled. He did say that His strength is made perfect in our weaknesses. I was reminded of the story of the blind man. The religious leaders asked why he was blind. The response just made more sense to me this week..."this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him" (John 9). Something I read recently pointed out that all these people that Jesus healed are known by their infirmity. It might just be that our disabilities truly are our greatest gifts.

I think this would be a great place to insert a song that has meant a lot to me over the past year. It is called Blessings. It is by Laura Story and she won a Grammy for it!

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

'Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not our home

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise

-----------------------------------------------------------
Embracing the brokenness so that I might be transformed.
There isn't anything glamorous or pretty about it,
but it is beautiful and sacred.

Repentance

I am starting to feel the early signs of burnout. The roots have been planted and they might not be what you think. The roots of burnout are not bad experiences or working too much. Sure those contribute, but they are more like the water and sun that makes the burnout grow.

The roots of burnout, for me at least, are unforgiveness. I have not been able to let go and forgive those that have hurt me here. Some go back to the very beginning.

Another layer is expectations. Our expectations set us up for disappointment. Repeated disappointment can lead to bitterness and resentment. These are also the roots for burnout.

These two are like insult and injury. I have let them fester and get infected. They are blinding me from seeing all that I once loved here.

The solution to this is good old-fashioned repentance. It's not a fun process but one I feel called to endure so that I can once again I can participate in life and in relationship with others.

Something I have felt compelled to do is The Joy Dare. It might sound silly, but I think it will stop me from complaining so much and start looking for things to find joy in. I was inspired by my friend Rebecca. She has been doing it from the beginning of the year. At first, I loved reading her posts. Then I started hating them and noticed I was coming cynical. I found myself saying things like....of course she can find all those pretty happy things there....I'm sure it's easy when all the post are related to nature, church, family, and children (things that I don't really have here). In fact, her posts started making me homesick and wanting the "easy" life (like there really is such a thing). I just feel like I live so much lower on Maslov's Hierarchy of Needs here than I did back home. Then I realized it wasn't the place that matter but the eyes and heart. To help me find the joy of living here I'm going to read the book One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp and start working my way through the list.

Hey, maybe this will result in some great pics and video.

Conversation with a Taxi Driver

Last night I had a conversation with my taxi driver. This is rate because I usually don't engage men in conversation here unless I know them well. Conversations with taxi drivers usually go like this:

Driver: Madam, where you from?
Me: US
Driver: Very nice. How long you been in India?
Me: Three years
Driver: Oh yes, very nice. That's why you speak such good Hindi (whatever, my Hindi is crap!) You married?
Me: (ummm, do I lie or not...usually lie) Yes. (if no)
Driver: How many kids madam? (why not madam? something wrong?)
Me: (lie continues...) 2 (father is arranging it or my older sister is not yet married)
Driver: Oh, very nice. Boys? (oh, good....conversation ends)
Me: (wanting conversation to end and to make a point) both girls
Driver: oh, so sorry madam. (conversation ends)

Last night was different. It started with an apology for being late (huh?). Then he complimented my Hindi (like I said, whatever). He never asked if I was married. He asked what I did here. Really? Then began talking about his daughter who just took her 12th boards and how he had high hopes for her. What? A father bragging about his daughter? Who are you? In fact, he said he was very proud of his girls. He just wished they could live a better life but life here is really difficult for women. I asked him how many kids he had...4 (3 girls, 1 boy). He said he told his wife 3 girls were sufficient but the wife insisted on trying for a boy because of pressure from the rest of the family particularity her father (which he could of meant his father/her father-in-law). The father said there would be no honor for her without producing a boy. The driver said he didn't care. Really?

Then came the reality...

The driver told his wife that they would only try again if and only if they had an ultrasound and aborted the baby if it was a girl. The wife agreed. They were relieved when it showed it was a boy. Of course, they had several done by different doctors to confirm. He explained that he loved his daughters but it was difficult to care for them. The cost of making sure they were cared for properly was just too great to have another one. He truly believed that it was better for her to die than to be brought into the world and not be able to cared for properly. For the first time, I could see where he was coming from.

Though I don't agree, I am starting to see how getting rid of girls and even those with special needs could be seen as a better option than for them to live here. Life is simply hard here and even worse for females and those with special needs. Sparing them would be a warped sense of compassion, especially for the driver who kept and cares for THREE girls.

The Ashish Centre

Last week I had orientation at the early intervention centre I am now working with. It was interesting as the training focused on communicating what the centre's mission, vision, and values through exploring worldview.

The trainer started by addressing an incident which happened in our neighborhood over the weekend (I live in the same area as the school). A couple, both doctors, went on vacation to Thailand for a few weeks and left their child servant (13-year-old-girl) locked in the house without sufficient water or food. The girl was able to make her way to the balcony and get the attention of the neighbors. She was rescued by the fire brigade and police and sent to a local orphanage until her parents can be located. The couple will have a nice welcoming party at the airport by the police when they return. The trainer used this story to ask the question, "How could educated middle class doctors treat a child this way?"

The staff and teachers had great answers which all led to the revelation that it is their worldview that shapes their attitude toward children, those of lower class/caste/race, etc. Despite their education and even respected profession, their worldview allowed them to not see this girl as a human being with value who deserved to be treated with dignity.

Worldview is critical for students with special needs. The quality of life depends on how those around them view them. Luckily, these students have the people at the Ashish Centre. The larger community is far from realizing the value of these students. The way of thinking is changing but very slowly. The majority of people still believe these students are cursed by god and do not deserve to live. People with special needs are like girls here...they are lucky to live. Often they are abandoned or left to die. Sometimes they are killed or aborted. If allowed to live, people with special needs are often kept secluded and discriminated against.

In recent years, there has been a movement of awareness in the media, among celebrities, families of children with special needs, and educators in the field of special education. Just last year the government finally passed a law which states that schools cannot deny children entrance into school based on their disability. Of course, schools are finding ways around that. The greatest struggle is the social stigma and teachers not knowing how to serve students with special needs.

(Note: Check out these Bollywoord films: Taare Zameen Par (about dyslexia) and My Name is Klhan (politically charged but main character has Asperger's syndrome. Read http://m.timesofindia.com/entertainment/bollywood/news-interviews/Salman-Khan-keeps-his-word/articleshow/12491667.cms Bollywood star Salman Khan steps up as spokesperson for ASD on World Autism Day)

The Ashish Centre is a unique place. The director shared some of the things that make the school unique. First, they believe that all children are created in the image of God. God creates us all with purpose and gives us the ability to live out that purpose. Each child, regardless of disability, has a purpose and is expected to contribute to society.

Here are the centre's vision, mission, values and motto:

VISION

We envision transformed communities of people who view and value each differently-abled person as created in God’s image and with the ability to attain their God given potential in leading fulfilling lives

MISSION

To provide wholistic education and support to children with disabilities and their families so that they can achieve their God-given potential and to create awareness in the community for constructive response and engagement.

VALUES

1. Each child is created in the image of God.
2. Each child is created for a purpose
3. Each child is born with the potential to achieve that purpose.
4. No one is exempt from giving back to society.
5. All of us are differently-abled.

MOTTO

Your work produced by faith,
Your labour prompted by love,
Your endurance inspired by hope.

I love the term "differently-abled." In a previous post I referred to the brokenness here and how I am broken. A part of the brokenness I witness and experience here is all the ways people are "differently-abled" and how I am also "differently-abled." I am sure I will be learning many lessons working with this incredible group of people.

You can check out more about the centre at www.ashishindia.org.

The Whole Truth

I am in my fourth year of living in South Asia. It truly is an incredible place. It’s full of rich history and exotic beauty. For an outsider, each day must seem like an adventure with all the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, textures, and chaotic randomness. For me it is simply home. It is the place where I wake up every morning and do my normal routines…shower, dress, eat breakfast, etc. Then I’m off to work. Yes, I go to work, not in a car, but a cycle rickshaw or auto rickshaw, sometimes by the metro or a taxi. That’s how the average "Arjun" or "Rahul" does it too. The random chaos you perceive actually has order and rhythm to it. Life does move at a slower pace and it takes more energy to get the simplest thing done. At the end of the day you collapse in a heap and are thankful if you accomplished one thing during the day. Life here is its own art form with formal greetings and lots of tea drinking. There’s something sacred about it. Something I cannot yet explain.

There’s something else which pervades this land…brokenness. It was its brokenness that partially drew me here. I wanted to help, to offer my skills. In turn I have been broken. My friend says living here is like being put through a meat grinder. That’s a good description of how I feel some days. But most days I am finding it easier to live here broken. It’s in brokenness that I can relate to the people.

Life here is not split up into the secular and the sacred. I’ve been trying to share my journey here as an educator simply from my professional experience. In doing so I have not been able to capture and share life here. From this post forward I am committed to share the whole story…the whole me…where there aren’t lines separating beauty and brokenness, but where they come together to make collage of truth.

Response to Lil Sister's FB Post

I wanted to post something in response to an article my little sister posted on facebook. The article is about a family who after mistakenly was given the wrong baby (a boy) at the hospital is refusing to take their daughter and fighting for custody of the boy.

You can read the full article here:

http://now.msn.com/living/0402-couple-trades-girl-for-boy.aspx

This may shock most of you, but sadly this does not shock me anymore. It still outrages me without any doubt, but I have ceased to be shocked at how females are treated and regarded here (or I should say mistreated and disregarded). I will get into that more in another post. I wanted to give some background to help you put this situation into perspective.

Here’s a good follow-up article which gives a bigger picture of the crisis:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-south-asia-13264301

Basically, the article talks about the issue of female feticide and infanticide. We are talking about 8 MILLION missing girls in the last decade. Essentially, 1 million girls each year. It’s a trend for the rich down to the poor. We are not just talking about aborting a baby. Females are killed after they are born by the family. It has left the female-male ratio at about 917 to 1,000. Virtually India is experiencing a genocide or gendercide.

Here are two videos which show you what people are doing to raise awareness.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6AZvf60a-w&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lysxxSPXEVU&feature=related

A good read to understand the issues women face in this country is …

May You Be The Mother Of A Hundred Sons by Elisabeth Bumiller

This was one of the first books I read upon arrival. It has held true and relevant to today’s women.