I'm like the ringleader, I call the shots…or do I?

What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of India?


Circus, anyone?


Within the past couple of weeks I have gone to the circus not once, not twice, but thrice. Picture any circus you have seen in the movies with the big-top tent, acrobats, jugglers, unicyclists, sharpshooters, trapeze artists, clowns, trick dogs, trick birds, contortionists, camels, balancing acts, and of course, the cricket-playing elephant who can squeeze all four feet onto a small round platform and then sit back on its haunches. Instead of performers from the Dust Bowl region in the thirties, though, these were from India, Nepal, Bangladesh, and Africa today. Add to it covers of Boom Boom Boom Boom, NSYNC’s Promise, The Baby Elephant Walk, and some Aqua, and you have the spectacle that chose to grace Kottayam with its presence for a month—a month in which by chance and circumstance I went three times. First, we had a visitor from Germany, and my supervisors wanted another white person to accompany her (why they wanted her to see the circus in the first place, who knows). Then we decided to take the girls from Balika Mandiram, our girls’ home. For this very hot 1pm showing I had a three year old Sairah lodged between my legs so she would not fall through the gallery bleachers (different sizes and shapes of wood pieced and tied together with no flooring). Finally, my good friends on staff here wanted to go as a group to a night showing. Let me tell you, the circus is made for the night. The glittering costumes come out to dazzle in the spotlight, and much more people attend, making for a more lively audience. Still, three of the exact same two and a half hour show was a bit much. Now I could go off on a metaphorical tangent about how life here is just like a circus about how we constantly are juggling work time, play time, community time, self time, spiritual time, home communication time (though as evidenced by the scarcity of blogs, that one is lagging), and reflection time; about how we have to be as flexible as contortionists—sometimes physically when trying to sit in Indian sized cars or autorickshaws, and always mentally and emotionally as we encounter new things to do, learn, and deal with daily; about how we are continually the clowns, the buffoons whose eating, language skills, and other attempts to fit into the culture are a constant source of amusement and joy for all those around; about how our lives are indeed a balancing act between these concepts of being and doing; about how we have acrobatic emotions, flying from one high to the other and sometimes falling to the bottom of the net; about how we are elephants, the most obvious and exciting creature for others to look at and talk about for pretty much any situation in which we find ourselves—all eyes on me in the center of the ring; but I have inundated you with life metaphors in blogs past, so I will not hassle you with that this time.

I feel the adrenaline moving through my veins

Life has been quite exciting since last we met. As always, most of my days have been spent in community activity. Leading a blind appachen to the person and building he actually wanted after several minutes of his standing outside a building across the way hollering for the person not there. Giving flying lessons to Manna (1) and Sairah (3). Learning Malayalam from my supervising achen, my peers, and every single person I encounter anywhere. Teaching nursing students English based on My Heart Will Go On. Half carrying an appachen to the toilet and setting him down on the closet (excuse my Manglish—malayalamenglish). Coming to understand the emotional highs and lows of a billion plus population associated with a 5-day test match of cricket. Having a spirited Bible study that starts with the question of how to find personal peace, progresses to the ultimate tangible effects of Gandhian nonviolence, and ends with debate on the role of Providence in our daily lives (thus the title). Playing football, singing Malayalam and Tamil film songs, cracking nuts, arm wrestling, and playing with little squirrels at the boys’ home down the street. Taking Hindi lessons from an ammachee who wants to teach. Debating the benefits and detriments of episcopacy with the wardens. Attending the one year deathiversary of my nearest neighbor’s mother, who was a freedom fighter with Gandhi. Singing They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love at chapel. Learning the basics of making fish curry. Sleeping outside under countless stars and countless mosquitoes. Living. Being.

Outside of the community, we volunteers with Thomas John took a trip to the northern part of Kerala, Wayanad, where we focused on the beauty and the struggles of local tribal communities. Highlights of the trip included wearing sweatshirts for the first time because of our location in high ranges, seeing a gigantic parade put on by the local Catholic church, visiting Eddakal cave, one of three sites in the world with ancient paleoglyphs, and taking a jeep safari in a wildlife preserve with elephants, peacocks, leopard footprints, wild chickens, and giant squirrels. By far the best part of the trip, though, was a visit to Kanava, an experimental educational community for adivasis (tribals). Children grow up in the community learning the history, artforms, and traditions of their own and each others’ tribes alongside the mainstream curricula from the state. They cultivate the land themselves and self sustain by selling handmade jewelry and putting on musical shows. We had the great privilege of attending one such show. We were in awe of the performance, especially a showcase of kaledi, what Kerala claims to be the oldest form of martial arts in the world. The pinnacle of the visit, however, and indeed the height of the entire retreat (and up there for the whole time in India), was an all inclusive tribal dance for performers and attendees alike. We started prancing around in a circle and then just let go. We jumped, spun, clapped, shook, flailed, and laughed. I recommend it. Stop whatever you are doing right now, get up, and get into it.

Don't stand there watching me,
Follow me, show me what you can do
Everybody let go, We can make a dance floor
Just like a circus.