#4: World Cricket, Frog Celebrity, Saturday Night Movies, Arranged Marriages, Star Store, Talent Show, Nail Polish, Smilingest Boy, Indian Voices

Click here for my Facebook photo album "In a Relationship. With India. It's Called Love."
Click here for "I Love India Twoo."

Crickets and Frogs. India is the world cricket champion (I watched them win! It was really exciting! I felt proud and learned about a whole new sport!) and I have become the local frog celebrity. The kids don’t dare touch frogs but I think they're cool (outside). So when I was visiting the hostel after school one day and the gardener was cutting bushes, out came lots of frogs. In my 3rd standard class (they call it “standard” instead of “grade”) we had been reading a book about frogs, and students ran up to me, “Aunty, frogs! You see—frogs!” They thought it was the funniest thing that I would catch one, and then they were trying to get me to catch every single frog there. When I held up a friendly amphibian to anyone, they would jump back, “Nooo, Aunty” and peer at a distance with fascinated fear. Several kids asked me if I eat frogs. I know I’ve gotten a little reputation for my odd cuisine, but frogs—that is food for a dare or a good story only. I have enjoyed fried crickets, though.

Watching the kids watch movies. It’s a great treat at the school to watch movies on Saturday nights. My treat is watching the kids watch the movies. So far we’ve seen several Disney and Pixar films, and when 180 kids all ooh and ahh and laugh and gasp together, it’s like I’m five again and seeing these new films at that age. I sit with the children on the floor of the Dining Hall after dinner, where the film is projected onto the wall. Inevitably a few kids will sidle their way over to snuggle and ask me questions. They tell me “bad boy” and point at the screen whenever the bad guy comes on, and hold on to me a little tighter. “Good boy” for the handsome hero, and they all know a princess. One thing that always makes me a little nervous, however, is the on-screen kiss. “They kiss in those movies?” you might ask. You probably haven’t paid too much attention because these displays of affection are very brief and mild by Western culture’s standards. However, in India it is prohibited to kiss or hold hands in public. Any respectable person would never do such a thing, and if you’ve ever watched a Bollywood film, you might remember the lack of lip-locking despite most themes centering on marriage, forbidden love and family ties.

“Marriage first, love later” is India’s traditional approach to wedlock. Arranged marriages are fascinating to me, probably because in most ways they are so very contrary to my culture. Initially I recoil at the thought of having no choice in such an important matter. I even had a dream at 19 that my marriage was being arranged and everyone felt fine about it, but I was trying not to freak out. The first time I met my intended, we had a meeting with our church leader to make sure everything was in order, and suddenly when we left the meeting I was married to him forever. What? It happened and I had never said yes! But I decided, “Well, I guess I’d better learn to love him because there’s no going back now.” And I started to at least feel okay with being okay about it. These days when people ask me why I'm not married, I tell them that my parents are lazy.

If you take romance out of the equation and expect your elders to have much more wisdom than you do, it becomes natural that they would make that important match. The tide is turning among the younger generation in the larger cities of India, and ironically, I will admit that there is something very enticing about leaving to trusted others the responsibility of choosing a mate. The people I have talked to from the village scene say they want love, and many of them have been unhappy in their relationships with a rare divorce, but so far they all accept unequivocally that the parents decide. It is very respectable for a woman to be so faithful to her husband and to love him and be good to him. The girls may know for years that their parents found her husband, but normally they don’t meet him and certainly don’t talk until maybe a few months before, or even the day of the wedding.

The ideal is an arranged love marriage. One of my friends, a 22-year-old housemother (one who lives at the hostel and cares for the children there) who is also a teacher at the school, was prohibited from even talking to boys all through school until she graduated college. Her grandmother told her she wouldn’t pay for Rajikumari’s education if she talked to anyone but girls. So Raji didn’t break their trust, but somehow still developed feelings for a kind young man from the highest caste whom she ran into again at a friend’s wedding a year or so ago. “Lakshmi,” she speaks his name softly because he is a secret, “wants to marry me.” Since Raji is out of school now, she feels okay talking to him. But her parents don’t know about him and will refuse her, she fears. Rajikumari asked me how I know whom to choose. “That’s a great question,” I laughed. Life experience and my preferences are important, but ultimately, I told her, “It takes lots of practice and prayer to ask God what He wants for me.” Does God arrange marriages?

Star Store. One day when I was still new here, some boys asked me, “Aunty, how much buy you house?” (Huh?) “How many stars? You dinner? See movie?” I was really confused until I asked the other volunteers, who explained that we can offer a special night with the students for a Star Store prize. Every Tuesday the store is open after school and the kids line up to take turns buying trinkets, school supplies, and special movie nights with the volunteers: 30 stars for dinner and a movie, or 15 stars for just a movie. Some little boys I had never met spent 30 stars (one month’s worth of good behavior) to come to April Aunty’s house, and I wanted to make it good. I make egg bread (French toast) with jam, omelettes with vegetables and enchilada sauce, watermelon, and fun-size 100 Grand chocolates. Aravind, 5, Sanjay, 6, and Ismael, 11, wanted to watch Hulk, Spiderman 3 or Transformers. I don’t watch scary movies, I told them. So we settled on Jumanji, which was still intense for me! And I got to do Night at April Aunty's house the next week with two other boys.

Talent Show. Singing and dancing, paper-cutting tricks, poi fire ball spinning, catching groundnuts in the mouth, and sharing poetry and artwork were treats we enjoyed at the second annual Rising Star Talent Show. All of the teachers, housemothers, volunteers, and even some grounds crew came for the event. One of my favorites was the older boys’ comedy dance where three boys danced Indian-style, and then a fourth boy, dressed convincingly as a girl, walked out and stole the boys’ hearts. They were swooning over "her" the rest of the dance and it was hilarious.

Nail polish. One of the girls told me recently “You talent putting nail polish.” Huh, I had never considered that as one of my talents. The kids here LOVE getting their nails painted, and I’m so glad my roommate had a bunch of colors she was willing to share. The kids usually have a different color for each hand and foot, and then they put contrasting colors of dots on each nail to decorate. It’s like it’s too hard to decide which color, so use as many as you can. As I was leaving the girls’ hostel after my first time painting nails here, I passed some boys who eagerly asked me to paint their nails too. “I love pink!” “Yellow is mine!!” the boys clamored over the colors. “Oh, my,” I thought. “I guess fashion is different here.” Seeing how happy it made them, and deciding that boys painting their nails is purely a cultural preference that I could let go of in India, I went along with it. I came back another day with polish for the boys, and they were just as excited as the girls had been. One housemother even let her boys stay up late because they had been expecting me but I had gone to another group first. I kept laughing at their enthusiasm to paint, and I asked their housemother, Gandhimathi, if she knew that in America boys do not generally paint their nails. In fact, most people think it’s kind of strange. “Here, too,” Gandhi said. “Same. But these boys hostel boys. They go outside, some girls laugh.” Oh, no, what did I do? I thought it was a totally acceptable Indian practice for boys to paint their nails, but here a housemother is telling me that the kids living at our hostel are just a little naïve? And they are leaving the next day to go home for six weeks with their nails painted? Nobody thinks anything of it from all I've seen, though.

Thursday, 7 April 2011 Today was a weary day, feeling tired and even frustrated at the poor level of education here—and I've only been here a couple of weeks. I spend 2-2.5 hours every morning correcting journals, and it got to me today that these kids just don't seem to be learning and most of the teachers don't know English very well either. And then I tutor various kids when I'm not teaching, and today they seemed especially slow. I take full responsibility for my feelings and I'm not blaming them. It's me! I am just having an impatient, uncharitable day! I share this because I am so very human, and I was touched in a sweet way by one of my students, Ebinesar. He came in to the library at the start of lunch and asked me how I was doing. I was finishing the last of 4th standard’s journals and was in the midst of my frustration with the education. I told Ebinesar, who is the tiniest smilingest boy I’ve seen, that I was frustrated because people make the same mistakes over and over, and I just needed to get over it. I didn't know how much he would understand and was kind of hoping he wouldn't, because I didn't want to dump on him. Without saying anything, he started to open the remaining journals to the page I was correcting and then he went off to lunch, smiling back at me. Tears dripped from my face, as I felt my frustration melting and I felt sorry for my hard heart.

Indian voices. In my quiet moments, I hear little Indian voices commanding my attention: “Aunty, you see—frog!” “Aunty, you come!” “Aunty, why you name April? When you birthday?” “What you mother name?” “You like veg-e-ta-bles?” “Vhen you vill come my house?” “Aunty, picture me take.” And sometimes I feel a firm tug on my forearm, a child taking me to whatever she wants me to see. The children are gone for six weeks on holiday break now, but their voices run through my mind even when I’m alone, reminding me of their excitement for life and the time we’ve shared for the past month learning from each other. (This picture is of Amirtham, a vivacious 7-yr-old girl who was so stoked to buy Spider Man socks at Star Store! I haven’t told her, but she’s also a kid I wish I could take home with me. I think her family wouldn’t like that.)

Next time: Coming-of-Age, Wet Saris, Pain and the Colonies, and more

#3: April Fools, First Leper Colonies, World’s Most Beautiful Children, Tomato Face, School vs. Colonies, Magical Magical Fireflies, Productive Workouts

April 2, 2011

For more visuals and less text, visit my FaceBook pics. I have two albums to organize them somewhat. “In a Relationship. With India. It’s Called Love” and
“Touching the Untouchables” with pics from the leprosy communities.

And for an incredible video of my second colony visit, check out what my roommate Audrey made: http://vimeo.com/21796849

Now, for my post:

It was an April Fool’s joke that I posted on Facebook that I’m showing the beginning signs of leprosy. Most of the world’s population is naturally immune (about 95-99%, depending on your source) and even if I did somehow get it, there is free medicine available that can totally cure it. Speaking of April Fools, on the last day of March when I was in the Bharathapuram Artists’ leprosy colony, I introduced myself, adding, “Tomorrow, April 1,” and pointed to myself. One of the men said “April Fool’s!” and we all laughed. So few of the people in the villages speak English that I was really surprised he would know that! And of course I’ve had a number of children here tell me excitedly that we’re in the month of April. Some say, “It’s your birthday!” and others just say, “April!” and point at the green board where their teacher mam has written the date. When kids tried to tell me it was April Fools Day, I said, “No, it’s not. That was yesterday. Today is April 2. You missed it!” and we would go back and forth, me with a very serious tone and them asserting that today is April 1. They still generally think that my name is delightfully peculiar. I, too, have found some rather unusual names here: One of my students is named Hari Krishnan (like the religion), there’s another student named Karl Marx and a former student named Joseph Stalin, and the doctor is totally Indian but her parents named her after some Christian missionaries years ago so she is Susan Hilton. They don’t usually do last names here, but will take their father’s name and use it as their first initial to distinguish between the multiple Vijays, Khartiks, Pavithras, etc.

I know that children in all parts of the world are beautiful, but maybe, just maybe, they are a little more beautiful in India? I can say this because I don’t have children yet and because I’m nowhere else but India right now. If I were in Uganda, visiting my nieces and nephews, or staying any other place then of course those children would be the most beautiful to me.

“Eat this carrot, Aunty.” “Eat bean.” “What is this? (cauliflower). Eat.” “Eat the tomato.” The boys are crowded around me and my dinner plate, practicing their English with my cuisine. I’m eating same as they’re eating, but true to form, I have added some of my own raw vegetables. So I really like veggies. Eating at the dining hall is always interesting. “Is that American food?” a housemother asks. “Um, I’m just unusual. Most people don’t eat like this.” In the U.S. my students were convinced that I was vegetarian (close, but nothing official), and here where most everyone is vegetarian, they ask if it’s American food. Funniest thing was when I bit into a tomato, it squirted onto the face of Khartik, a little boy next to me. He laughed, and I laughed, and all the boys laughed, and then they laughed more because I was laughing with tomato in my mouth and tomato on his face and it was so silly. Yesterday Khartik saw me again and said, “Aunty! You! Tomato!” and made this splat action and sound with his face.

I miss my greens. Two nights ago when we went out to eat paratha at a little joint in the town of Uthiramerur about 30 minutes away, they served our food on a banana leaf on a plate, much like you would find food served on big lettuce leaves in the U.S. Well, I started to eat mine and got the weirdest stares—from my volunteer friends and the people in the restaurant. Apparently nobody eats banana leaves. They taste all right. Kind of like raw collard.

Brain Gym teacher trainings 1 and 2 were a great hit! Teachers still come up to me telling me success stories of how they have implemented the exercises in their classes, and I have students randomly showing me what they’ve learned. I myself have also found students responding well to the activities, like when they are getting fidgety in class or while tutoring if a student is hitting a wall. I am excited to help with teacher inservice in May, focusing more on creativity in the classroom, alternative forms of discipline, and nonviolent communication for problem-solving. We will hopefully do a parent workshop also. We finish this school year on April 16, with the new school year beginning May 30. This leaves me with a month and a half to focus on the colonies and to travel for a couple of weeks when the doctor is on vacation too.

This break in my volunteering work leaves me with mixed feelings. I feel that my time here is so short, I want to use every moment to full capacity. My expectations are high, I know. I initially applied to Rising Star Outreach planning to work solely as a massage therapist in the leprosy communities, but they have had a real need for me in the school. So I spend more time in the school right now with occasional days in the colonies. It’s been a little disappointing because I love my work in the colonies so much and that’s “what I came here to do,” but I also truly love my work in the school and I am so grateful to have this experience. Bottom line, I want to be used where and how I am most helpful.

A few nights ago I went on a walk with Chris Jensen, another volunteer who I am adopting as one of my mothers. (I’ve adopted some amazing mothers, not to mention the one who birthed me!) We left in the late afternoon and went in a new direction, walking on a little dirt road through areas marked for home development. After a while of deep conversation, we came to a little village where one of Chris’ students eagerly ran up to her and invited us to her humble home. It was getting late and we didn’t bring a torch (or cameras) with us because we didn’t plan to be gone that long, but we also knew it would be a real honor for them and we didn’t want to refuse the family’s graciousness. At the front of the house is sort of a room for their cow, and Mounika’s mom was milking it. Of course, I wanted to try. I’ve gone to great lengths in more than one country to fulfill my dream of milking a cow, but I still don’t feel that I can really say that I’ve milked one. The mom obliged my request, and I squatted and began to squeeze. Problem is, she switched out her almost-full pail for one with a much smaller opening and I knew instantly I was going to struggle. How could I, a cow-milking novice, ever aim into that? I got one squirt out and missed the pot, the rest of my squeezes being so pitiable and useless that the cow got irritated and moved to the opposite wall. Chris explained to our guests that most people in the U.S. don’t have cows. Mounika and her family gave us delicious freshly boiled sweetened milk in porcelain cups and saucers, and we chatted a few minutes before setting off for home.

Walking in darkness, sparing the torch that Mounika had lent us, we came upon the most magical, serene spot in the road. Chris noticed them first, millions of fireflies shimmering all around us unlike anything we had ever seen. It was something like the scene from “Avatar” when the floating jellyfish-like insects light up the trees. We paused a while in silence to soak in this moment, awestruck at the simple grandeur of such a sight. I am guilty of often forgetting to stop and smell the roses, so I appreciate my observant friends who point out such beauties to me. I’ve never picked out colors or a venue or the blessed man yet, but I want fireflies at my wedding reception. And fireworks.

Tonight’s forecast: Clear skies, beautiful stars and constellations of fireflies. Magical, magical fireflies. Tomorrow’s forecast: Sunny, hot and humid. Repeat.

Daily exercise is my “April time” and I relish it. These days I often run the stairs at our hostel or do P90X. I like feeling “worked,” to find that place of personal finish and to really enjoy my shower afterward. I’m blessed with lots of energy and it sometimes takes a lot for me to feel done. Today I was running the stairs and alternately reading or holding weights for extra challenge (I’m crazy. Nothing new), while one of the teachers was sitting nearby with piles of books he was grading for some reason in our hallway/courtyard.

I remembered Chris Jensen telling me about this particular teacher, whom she has been tutoring, how his diligence and humble commitment landed him a job at Rising Star despite his subpar English. On the weekends he works hard construction with his mother, earning about $1 a day, to help pay off his school loan (most of his paycheck). His father died of starvation. While I was running and sweating on the stairs, trying to make my work harder, it hit me how ironic and probably unfair this is that I have the liberty to choose such a frivolous workout when tomorrow, Vijay Kumar is going to be working just as hard under much different circumstances. And next door at the school, wiry men and women work daily carrying loads of cement on their heads and slabs of granite in their arms, building the physics lab. My workout had no other product than making me feel better and stronger and incredibly sweaty, but I could have gotten a workout by helping someone build something or by working on their farm. Writing this, I’m not intending to invoke self-beratement and needless guilt. Gratitude is a much healthier place to reside, and I seek to let my awareness move me to appropriate action—such as being able to help in more ways when opportunity arises, because I am healthy and fit.

Coming soon: Cricket, Star Store, nail polish, watching movie-watchers and more about the colonies

#2 Different Kind of Mother, Choose the Right Hand in India, My Silly Name, Brain Gym, Third-World Country =, Spoiled by Birth

March 26, 2011

I will be a different kind of mother for having spent time in India. For example, I likely won’t be as quick to chide my children for eating with their fingers or “playing” with their food because, well, the adults do it here too. I’ve been eating lunch and sometimes dinner at the school, and it wasn’t until the second day that I realized I was the only one with a utensil in the dining hall of 180 kids and their teachers. Immediately I set it aside and pulled out my clean hands. I felt authentic, and honestly enjoyed eating with my fingers.

Lately, I have switched to only using my right hand when eating in public. My second day eating Indian-style, sitting on the floor with no utensils, I started eating with my left hand without thinking about it. (I’ve been using my left hand almost equally with my right for 12 years now). A little boy sitting next to me bravely leaned over and asked me, “Auntie, why are you using your left hand?” I looked up and I could tell he was uncomfortable and concerned. In fact, the whole line of little boys I was sitting with looked politely shocked that I would use that hand to eat and they nodded encouragingly for me to use my right hand. Later I asked one of the housemothers why it is wrong to eat with the left hand, and she laughed embarrassedly. “I’m shy,” she said. I remembered hearing somewhere that the left hand in India is used for toileting, and I mentioned this to her. “Yes. You people from America use toilet paper, but we in India don’t.” She used little words, but I got her meaning. Note to future India travelers: Use your right hand for eating.

“Whatisyourname? Why you name April? When is your birthday? When you go to Meh-di-ca?” The children here bombard me with questions. The first week it was about my name and my birthday. I’ve had so many giggles about my name and the kids are even more puzzled when they ask for my birthday, because I wasn’t even born in April! My beloved name is so silly here.

It seems my name would translate to Chithirai, the first month of the year (mid-April to mid-May) or Panguni, the last month of the year (mid-March to mid-April). As I told kids that my birthday was March 26, I had dozens coming up to me whenever they saw me outside of a class, saying “Your birthday is March 26?” “Auntie, your birthday is Saturday? Are you bringing chocolate?” Apparently it is tradition for the birthday child to bring chocolate for his friends. I tease, “Aren’t YOU going to bring ME chocolate?” And they smile no.

Even though India received me from sunny San Diego, I was feeling a bit sun-deprived when I arrived. Being solar-powered as I am, I was delighted to find that the other volunteers were planning to go to Mamalapuram on the 26th to a western-style resort and beach. About $6 to swim and sun, relax and read. I celebrated my birthday on the beach and loved it. I did get sunburned, and I had a few kids and adults ask me that night, “What happened to your face?” Apparently they don’t see sunburn that often!

My second day at the school (March 22), I led a teacher training on Brain Gym at the school. I created the handout showing a few of the exercises that my mom originally showed me years ago and which I further learned in massage therapy school. The teachers were really receptive and we had a fun time.

The best part was the next day during Interval (recess) when a number of kids came up to me showing me the trick to get out of “Hook Ups” where you twist your arms into sort of a self-hug and cross your legs at the ankles.

I will lead Brain Gym Part 2 at next Tuesday’s weekly teacher training. This stuff I love! The teachers here are very humble and accepting to feedback and the volunteers’ help. We are really pushing to improve the quality of teaching in the classes by not only speaking and writing better English, but also including more student participation rather than mindless copying and adding creativity to the lessons.

Tropical climate = plethora of frogs and geckos everywhere (kitchen, bathroom, paths and streets as well as the usual ponds) + delightful fireflies + a few mosquitoes + reports of exotic snakes (I have yet to see one though I always come running when I hear of a sighting) + very hot and humid = lots of sweat.

Third-world country = incredibly bumpy roads + playing chicken with opposing vehicles even if you’re the only ones in sight on the road because you both want to drive in the middle where it tends to be smoothest + multiple uses for the horn including turn signal, warning to pass vehicles or people, and just generally honking because you have a horn + livestock have the right of way. Don’t mess with ol’ Bess.

Third-world country = awesome bucket showers + piles of trash all over the cities and countryside + power outages several times a day, anywhere from one second to an hour, but usually only for a few minutes. At least we have power.

Despite living in a country notorious for its poverty, I feel spoiled every day, even to the point of almost being cheated from some depth of the human experience. We have running water and even purified drinking water from a tap in the volunteer hostel and at the school next door. There are two washing machines and some ladies clean the hostel daily. I am posting this using wireless Internet. Traditional clothes are provided for me, as well as linens, and all of the rooms have fans and air conditioning to cope with the very hot and humid weather. I sleep on two firm little mattresses instead of one, because we only have a few volunteers right now. When I don’t go to the colonies, I can eat three delicious meals a day at the school’s dining hall. The food beats any cafeteria food I’ve ever had, and I like the spicy curry.

I came here wanting to understand poverty better and how to alleviate human suffering, expecting to embrace whatever challenges presented themselves, realizing that I would never be able to predict or fully prepare for what twists and turns life would take on this part of the journey. How ironic that my test for the moment is that it seems too easy. Am I a masochist for personal challenge? I will always be my own greatest foe, and my struggles I carry with me wherever I go. It is possible that I just have an especially optimistic attitude, “rosy-colored glasses” so that I just don’t interpret difficulties as such. But I try to keep my “glasses” clear, to experience reality for what it is, and I am convinced that I am spoiled. I practice gratitude.

Next post I will tell more about the school and my first leper colony...

Loving sunshine and air conditioning,
Aunty-April-yes-that-is-my-crazy-name

#1: Holi Wars in India, Tonight I Ate Dinner on a Leaf, and Yes, My Name Is the Fourth Month

A visual version of this post is on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?id=616580060&aid=638343. Let me know if the link doesn't work!

First impressions of India (after Day 2)
• Reminds me of Uganda. A lot. The streets and buildings look very similar, except for the Hindu temples, the Tamil writing on the signs next to English, and rickshaws (small taxis comparable to go-carts). How much of the similarities result from British colonialism, and how much is just coincidence or otherwise?
• Smell of moth balls in bathrooms. Don’t know yet what that’s about. I was told that India has very distinct, strong smells, but so far it’s been mild.
• The head bobble! I never noticed it until I came here, but Indian people do this side-to-side head bobble sometimes when they’re talking. While I think I can do it in the appropriate context, I can’t yet give it words for what it means. Same genre like a wink?
• Very friendly people in the village where I stay. The kids at the school here call me “auntie”—a term of respect for women. Men they call “Sir” or “uncle.” Everyone is incredulous that my name is April when I introduce myself. I get this response when I go to foreign countries where my name translates to “fourth month” and is meaningless when they don’t have seasons. I mean, what parent would name their child “Fourth month”?
• Quite pleased to have P90X at the house and bikes to ride, but I do miss my leafy greens.
• I love the volunteers I’m working with, the shalwar kamiz local clothes provided for me at the house, and I’m REALLY excited to start working tomorrow!

After about 20 hours on planes plus layover times, I arrived in Chennai, India at 1:45 am on Saturday. I wasn’t tired somehow, and I did major catching up in my journal while I waited in the airport for my driver to pick me up at 7:30 am and take me two hours to Thottanaval village where I will be living the next 2.5 months at Rising Star.

The house here is very comfortable and modest by back-home standards, but luxurious for the local neighborhood. We have electricity with daily brief outages, and running water with a tap of drinking water that’s purified on grounds. We do have bucket showers and hole-in-the-ground latrines and, I am spoiled—we have A/C. The Elephant House, as they call the volunteer quarters, is very clean and I currently share a room with another long-term volunteer. At night we all eat dinner together on the roof, and with the arrival today of a large group of U of U MBA students, our disposable plates for a delicious dinner were…banana leaves. Coolest plate I’ve ever had. Next potluck I host in Cali, I’ve got to find some leaves for my guests.

Day 1: Saturday, March 19. My first day here I settled in, puked from taking my malaria pill without food (I forgot, but lesson learned!), exercised to P90X for the first time (pliometrics; I’m feeling it today), biked to the village center with a couple of volunteers on a heavy bike whose chain kept falling off or getting stuck, picked a new wardrobe of shalwar kamiz clothes, and enjoyed visiting with other volunteers. The program directors are a family of 7 that have lived here for 1.5 years and are leaving soon back to Utah. They have a cool life. But so do I.

Day 2: Drove 2 hours each way to church to worship with people of my faith. I love going to church in other countries! Back at home, we met the new volunteers from the University of Utah who will be here three days, and we celebrated the Hindu festival of Holi with the kids at the school. The celebration consists of throwing dyed powder or colored water on each other, so it was a big paint war. We wore grungy clothes that could be stained, and my hands are still dyed after deep scrubbing. But oh my gosh, it was so much fun! The kids were so excited, saying, “Auntie! Auntie! and thrusting their open hands in front of mine so I would dole out more powder. The colors were intense and we were laughing, chasing each other around the yard and smearing it on each other. One kid threw a handful of red paint in my mouth which certainly tasted badly, but if that was the worst thing that happened to me today, then I’m doing pretty well. Once the powder ran out, we played impromptu games of soccer, tag, a local version of jacks, sharks and minnows, Frisbee, and just sat and chatted. I bobbled my head a few times today while talking but I need to work on my accent.

It's been a full couple of days with much more to come. I am so happy to be here, and I hope you are doing well wherever you are!

Love and sunshine
April-the-Fourth-Month Murdock

For those who are interested, here is some more info and a poem (not mine) about the Hindu festival of Holi:

"The full moon festival of Holika gradually became a festival of merrymaking, announcing the commencement of the spring season. …However, the literal meaning of the word 'Holi' is 'burning'. There are various legends to explain the meaning of this word; most prominent of all is the legend associated with demon king Hiranyakashyap.

Hiranyakashyap wanted everybody in his kingdom to worship only him but to his great disappointment, his son, Prahlad became an ardent devotee of Lord Naarayana. Hiaranyakashyap commanded his sister, Holika to enter a blazing fire with Prahlad in her lap. Holika had a boon whereby she could enter fire without any damage on herself. However, she was not aware that the boon worked only when she enters the fire alone. As a result she paid a price for her sinister desires, while Prahlad was saved by the grace of the god for his extreme devotion. The festival, therefore, celebrates the victory of good over evil and also the triumph of devotion."

http://www.holifestival.org/history-of-holi.html

Holika Dahan
Year after year
purity of fire
is challenged by evil,
appeased with offerings

A full moon looks on
as winds stoke embers,
flare flames
to a flickering dance

Right in the center
of crimson blaze
sits Holika,
Prahlad in her lap -
her arms a circle of heat

White sparks fly from her hair,
eyes smolder in fury;
her mouth sucks in air,
engulfs rice and wheat

Wood chars,
coconuts splinter,
flowers singe
smearing earth with ash.

Year after year
faith survives.
Holika burns to death.

http://www.holifestival.org/holi-poems.html

Touching the Untouchables in India and Thailand

The opportunity has come, and I'm going to India and Thailand! Mid-March to mid-June 2011
I need your help to get there. And a HUGE thanks to all who have donated!

Come to Bonfire for Charity: Touching the Untouchables of India and Thailand:
Friday, March 4, 2011
La Jolla Shores, San Diego
7:00-10:00 pm
Music by Cory Belliston, Ben Clement, and Bob.

India:
Leprosy is a completely curable condition with devastating effects if left untreated. With the illness often comes a social stigma that places sufferers on the fringe of society, left to beg for their subsistence and creating a cycle of poverty that affects future generations. For my first month I will help in the school for kids who come from leper colonies, and the next month or so I will practice and teach massage therapy in the colonies two hours outside of Chennai, Tamil Nadu state, India with Rising Star Outreach. In addition, I will be prepared to facilitate peacemaking workshops based on the Arbinger Institute and Marshall Rosenberg's Nonviolent Communication systems.

There is something so intriguing and enticing to me about "touching the untouchables." Through therapeutic and sensitive bodywork, I want to reach them in ways that no one, probably, has reached them. I want to help dispel the stigma that these people are "less than," disgusting, and incapable. And on a personal level, I want to surprise myself by further dispersing my own self-imposed stigmas, to love myself in my own perceived unloveableness. By opening myself to fully experiencing all that India has to offer, I know that I will not leave India untouched.

Thailand:
In Thailand I will likely stay at HELP-International's volunteer base in Chiang Rai, northern Thailand, and join them on their projects. Hopefully I will be able to visit the Ban Mai Nai Soi refugee camp in Mae Hong Son, former home of my Burmese refugee friends whom I've been mentoring in San Diego for two years. Thailand is an exploratory trip, to learn more about the refugee situation and to assess needs for future humanitarian work there. In line with my vision for bodywork for peace, I want to someday offer therapeutic bodywork for women in recovery from sexual exploitation and to participate in combating the commercial sex trade. Sensitively practiced, massage therapy can have a profound healing effect for people who have undergone traumatic experiences.

Donation Needs:
Airfare: $1260**.
Travel insurance: $103
India Visa: $60
HELP-International in Thailand: $400
Vaccinations: $120
TOTAL: $1950 RECEIVED: $750 as of 3.6.11
Thank you, thank you, thank you!

How to Donate:
For cash or check payable to April Murdock, contact me directly at bodywork4peace@yahoo.com. PayPal is also available with that email.

Incentives:
I am offering an incentive of free 1-hour massage gift certificates for all who donate $150 and more! Certificates are transferable. Contact me for details or visit my business website for more information: www.bodywork4peace.abmp.com

Additionally, I will share descriptive emails, blogs, and photos to help capture the essence of India and Thailand so you can vicariously share the experience.
Namaste!

Three-fold Approach to Peace

Dr. Susan Hilton, Medical Director for Rising Star Outreach, wrote the following to me:

"To create or share peace you need to have plenty of it. So what are the methods you adopt to be filled with peace and how will others benefit? This is not an official or even professional query but merely a personal one."

My response:

The questions you ask are very pertinent, and I like questions that make me think and feel more deeply. I will try to briefly answer how I am filled with peace and how others will benefit, realizing that I could add lots more in my own musings!

I agree that I need to have plenty of peace to create or share it—because how can I give something I don't have? However, I also believe that I don't have to be perfect or "fully arrived" in order to benefit or help others, nor do I claim to be The Peacegiver. A motto I have adopted is "Learn it, live it, share it." This is the pattern by which I can effectively share peace in whatever way I can. I am still learning much about making peace, I know more than I implement, and I share even less than I know and do. Being on the path myself, though, I can still have a positive impact for others along the way.

I take a holistic approach to peacebuilding: spiritual, intellectual and physical. Being a religious and spiritual person, I seek peace from God and believe that it is His gift to us when we are living our lives in harmony with His will. I am not proselyting in my peacebuilding efforts, though I am happy to respectfully share my beliefs with others who are interested. My faith undergirds my actions, and I believe it's important to acknowledge hidden and open assumptions and beliefs.

My approach to the intellectual aspects of peacemaking comes particularly from two methods of teaching peacebuilding: the Arbinger Institute and Nonviolent Communication by Dr. Marshall Rosenberg. It is from these two approaches that I have taken the material I've used for the workshops I helped facilitate in Uganda and a little bit in the U.S., and which helps me on a practical daily basis. The material is applicable to oneself, relationships with any individual and even between groups of people and nations. Arbinger teaches how to see people as people (having needs, feelings and values as valid as my own), and not as objects (in which I objectify, villify or make irrelevant that person). Arbinger also helps us to see where we deceive ourselves by denying the senses we have to do something for another person, thus self-justifying our behavior and adopting a "heart at war" that is resistant to the other person's humanity. www.arbinger.com

Nonviolent Communication teaches that we must listen for the needs and feelings in our interactions with others, and gives us language for how to communicate what we've heard and sensed from others and within ourselves. It is a very practical and effective approach, though it may be awkward at first while implementing. www.cnvc.org

Lastly, on the physical level, I practice massage therapy to promote my own and others' peace. However, I support all forms of bodywork and movement that help us to be healthier and happier, such as yoga, dance, acupuncture, even creating art and music. Massage is certainly not the only pathway to peace but it is an effective one. Massage relieves stress and creates positive feelings—so when we are feeling better in our bodies, we are more likely to treat ourselves and others better.

Hope this answers your question. Thanks for asking. It helped me clarify my practice.

Why am I Volunteering in India?

Am I crazy?
Sometimes I start thinking I'm crazy for planning to take off for 2-3 months and volunteer doing massage therapy in India for people with leprosy. I've done this sort of thing several times throughout my adult life, so it's not like this is that unusual for me. I guess the biggest thing that's different now is my small bank account and I don't have a free home base to return to like I did before, where I stored all of my things when I traveled. I can't afford to pay rent if I'm not working, and I don't know if I can find a suitable sublet situation for my room with the right timing.

Motives:
I really try to be clear about my motives in everything, and as I consider why I want to go to India, I admit that in addition to believing that I have a meaningful contribution and in some ways it is great timing, there are elements of satisfying my love for exotic adventure and it's nice to "get away" to a new place and lose myself there for a bit. I really avoid doing things for trite and fad reasons, and going to India because it's exotic is somewhat trite and fad, in my opinion. I want to do the job, go to the place that no one else wants to---that for me is truly exotic, but I'm not convinced that that is the best reason either. What am I trying to prove? This is the question I ask myself.

Lasting Impacts:
I want to make the most of my time there, to really have a lasting impact (without a need to "save" or heal anyone or the world. That's not my role.) I do believe that the most powerful impact comes in the day-to-day ways we live our lives and in being present. Traveling to a foreign country is not necessary to have a lasting impact and honestly, the person I'm really responsible for is myself. That's the one I'm working to change. Do I have lessons to learn in India, that perhaps I can't learn somewhere else? I believe learning great lessons is almost inevitable, and it really motivates to go. And I want to go for a longer than shorter period, so I can really immerse myself in the experience and leave behind the "tourist" feel.

I am a big proponent of sustainable development, so I imagine that a big contribution would be to teach massage classes for family members of people with leprosy and for anyone wanting to learn. My passion for bodywork is to promote it as a practical pathway to peace---believing that people who receive and give healthy, loving touch are less likely to abuse one another and will enjoy a higher quality of life in all aspects.

On the note of what specifically I will be doing with Rising Star Outreach, I think we all agree that bodywork (I use "bodywork" and "massage" interchangeably, though "bodywork" is a bit more inclusive than "massage.") would be a powerful benefit to the physical, emotional, social and spiritual well-being of the people RSO serves. I expect that I would give massage sessions to people with leprosy and teach self-care in the realm of mind-body wellness. I have great passion for and some great experience in facilitating peacemaking workshops, which I would be so happy to do along with massage, if there is interest and opportunity.

Bottom line, I am flexible and happy to contribute however I am most useful.

Namasté