Ignorance Doesn't Change the World

Wasn’t it easier in the lunchbox days?

Always a bigger bed to crawl into?

Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything?

Everybody believed in you?

‘Innocent’ – Taylor Swift

Sometimes,

I wish that I could go

Back to the days

When

My biggest decision

Was who to invite to my birthday party

Or which OPI Nail Lacquer to buy

And

My biggest prayer request

Was that I would 

“Do well” in my exam or presentation.

When

My biggest problem

Was an unfair teacher

Or conflicting social events.

When

My biggest worry

Was that I wouldn’t get a date to the prom

Or be accepted to a good college

And

My biggest spiritual hurdle

Was how to “Be a witness”

To my friends who

(gasp)

swore.

The days

When

I could buy a product without

Wondering

About the the people who made it

(fair trade)

(sweat shops)

(chemical exposure)

(child labour)

(conflict minerals)

And therefore become

Conflicted

Myself.

The days

When

Having a crush on a boy

Meant I never had to

Actually

Talk to him.

The days

Before I started thinking critically.

The days

Before I left my “bubble.”

The days
Before I learned
That believing in God
Can be hard sometimes.
Before I wondered
What Jesus really meant
When He said,
"Follow Me."

The days

Before I watched the news.

Before I interacted with the oppressed.

Before I saw people’s spiritual wounds.

Before I experienced a world of unnecessary suffering.

Before I knew heartbreak.

Before I recognized my privilege.

Before I asked questions.

Things were easier in the lunchbox days.

These days are hard,

And sometimes they hurt.

But I believe they are worth it.

I guess it's true what they say,

That

Ignorance is bliss.

But ignorance doesn’t

Change the world.


And it won't change me, either.

Work in Progress

I dabble in art.
And by "dabble in art",
I mean sometimes I just have to paint something.
Do something creative.
But I also love words.
Need words.
Crave words.
I also like to think that I can do the whole "mixed media" thing.
Emphasis on "like to think".
So most of my "work"
Ends up a mezcla of
words,
colors,
techniques.

This one, I was really excited about.
I've had a vision in my head
to do a piece that says "Grow"
For over a year now.
Its shape has changed,
but the desire has remained.
I found this great blog called Street Team
Where I learned about a technique called Gesso
(and Googled how to make my own - I improvised),
Another website called "Mixed Media Art",
And a really creative picture of a tree via Google Images.
I hadn't wanted to use a tree.
How generic.
How cliche.
Growth = Tree.  Always.
But I found this one when I was looking for an image for a worksheet,
And I loved this one.
Oh! And I pinned this cool image transfer tutorial on Pinterest.
An image transfer that didn't require any special paints
Or materials.  Supposedly.
I was pumped.

So I set up shop.
On this canvas, I was going to be incorporating
about 5 different techniques:

1.  Painting. Like artistically painting (if only imitating) a tree.
     (According to Picasso, "Bad artists copy.  Good artists steal."  I'm not sure which one I am...)
2.  Modge-podge.
3.  Gesso.
4.  Credit card painting.
5.  Image transfer.

Note to self: when trying out multiple techniques, some of them new, don't do it directly on the canvas. Test it first.

As I went along, I realized that I did things in the wrong order.  I should have gesso'd first, then credit carded, then image-transfered, then painted, then modge-podged.  And because of the gesso (essentially made of glue, baby powder, and water), my image transfers didn't come off of the canvas.

This is what I ended up with:

"Work in Progress" May 12/13, 2012

The white splotches?  Those are my image transfers.  Each one says "grow" or "become" in one of the languages that I have studies - Kannada, Spanish, English, French, Italian.  The white was supposed to rub off with water or nail polish remover, leaving the black lettering, but I had no such luck.  I like to think it would have looked really cool if it had worked...and the canvas and supplies have been sitting around my living room for about a month in hopes that I would be able to find a way to salvage the situation...to make it actually look good.

But I have decided that I am going to keep it like this.  After a month, nothing has changed. It's still the same, and it isn't perfect.  But when I look at it, I smile.  Because it is a work in progress.  And so am I.

Birthday Best

Tonight was my neighbor's son's birthday, and it made me so happy.  I wish I had some pictures, or had filmed the entire thing, but alas, I hadn't exactly been planning for a party.

It's Sunday evening, and my doorbell wrang at 8:00.  As, when I am within the 4 walls of my own home, I don't always dress appropriately for the outside Indian world (especially since I was getting ready for bed...yes, at 8pm on a Sunday night), I yelled "One Nimsha!"  (One minute!)  It wrang again.  (An aside:  my doorbell sings a different song each time it's pushed.  I wonder how many are in its repertoire?)  I pulled on my Eden Prairie hoodie and flannels (circa 2002) and opened the door.  Shobha, my neighbor, was standing there.

"Jen! It's my son's birthday!  Come fast!"  She pulled me out of my door and we started down the hallway until I stopped dead in my tracks.  "Shobha - I'm not dressed!!!"  She looked at my tattered sweatshirt in chagrin and said, "Go change.  Go fast!!"

So I ran back to my room, trying to figure out what I could easily pull on (I did laundry earlier this evening so most of my go-to's are drying.)  Then I ran out, slamming the door shut and trotting down the hallway.  (This was the point where I thought that I should bring my camera.  But the rush, mixed with my uncertainty as to whether or not my camera would be worth bringing because of its increasing slowness and low quality of photos, threw that out the door.

The room was overflowing with neighbors and a huge beautiful cake sat on a small table.  A handful of Yeshu's friends had also come, dressed all cute for a party...cuter than I was dressed, definitely :)

I won't give you a play-by-play.

But I wil tell you this:

I think birthdays really have a way of bringing out the best in people.  Challenging them to act their age, if you will.

Yeshu is normally the most unruly and disrespectful child I have ever encountered.  Blatantly disobeying, talking back to his mom, spanking her when she spanks him, throwing his garbage on the ground instead of in the garbage can, never doing what he is told.  But today, dressed in his birthday best, he was a different person.  Suddenly responsible.  He posed for pictures with his parents, even putting his arms around them and drawing them close.  He patiently waited while each guest stuffed a piece of cake into his mouth (it's tradition).  He thanked his friends for his gifts, and when it was time to serve the cake he went, unasked, to fetch more plates when they ran out.  He served all the guests, and then himself.

Maybe this is culture, perhaps he is performing according to social expectations and norms.  However, the birthday had an effect on his relationship with his big brother, too.  Kishan is a few years older, and generally they fight.  All the time.  Today, however, Kishan was a protective and proud big brother.  In each picture, he had his arms around Yeshu protectively.  He reported each gift, and who gave it, to his mother and (again, without being asked), carefully placed a julabee on every cake plate.

Will this "birthday behaviour" continue?  I doubt it.  But it was relieving to see the kids loving each other, respecting their families, serving their guests.  And perhaps, just perhaps, it was a sign of the becoming that will occur in this new year.

Deep observations aside, the night was full of smiles and laughter.  When most of his friends had left, Yeshu and a friend ran in to the bedroom to play with some new toys.  Kishan, like most oldest children, was left in limbo to decide if he was still a child or if he should hang out with the adults.  But when Shobha scooped him an extra big helping of Biryani, you can bet your buttons he stayed.  And when the adults whipped out the home videos, the little ones returned as well.  What started as a birthday ended up as an evening watching the footage from the birthday boy's parents' wedding.

I'm on my way to bed (again), but I can still hear the boys playing in the parking lot below me.
The party continues.

Jubilee!

Earlier this week, I met a new friend from England.  Her name is Ruth.

Halfway through the day, I got a text asking if I would like to come to her apartment tonight with some other Brits so that we could celebrate The Majesty Her Queen's Diamond Jubilee.  The celebration would include wearing tiaras and drinking tea out of newly-purchased teacups.

My reply?  Absoflippinlutely.

When I arrived, the BBC was on and I was met by two others from the UK that I hadn't met yet.  One greeted me with, "You sound American."  Well...I am American.  BUT my great-great grandmother was born within earshot of the Bow Bells so I have Cockney in my blood, I often crave London, and my grandma subscribes to Royalty Magazine (or is it Majesty Magazine? Probably both, actually)...therefore, I like to think I'm a smidgeon English and I love that I'm taking part in the Jubliee!  (I had already been following the celebration via Twitter, and it turns out that, once in a while, I knew more about the Royals and British history than some of the girls actually from the UK did!)

The evening was a smashing success, and at times we wondered that that we were celebrating England in a country that was so recently oppressed by its imperialism.  Que vida, no?

We drank apple juice (sometimes mixed with rum...) out of a new china set.  One teacup, from one of the Brits, boasted a picture of the Queen herself.  While we crafted some Union Jack bunting, we watched the Diamond Jubilee specials on the BBC, and our conversation that stemmed from this was both intellectual and humorous. And, of course, we each ended up confessing our schoolgirl crushes on William...or Harry...or both :)  To be honest, though, I was completely sucked in to the programme.  And watching it, being reminded of different events and circumstances, certain passions of certain Royals, etc., my respect for this family increased multifold.

Our homemade Union Jack bunting

We cooked baked beans and runny eggs sunny side up, fried tomatoes.  The reaction these girls had to the smells and tastes of food from home was absolutely priceless.  I made truffles and there was other chocolate to be shared.  We drank Tetley tea and watched bad British comedy.  The entire evening's festivities were conducted while wearing plastic tiaras.

It was absolutely brilliant and the loveliest of evenings.
God save the Queen!

Lands of Contradiction

Many people consider India to be the land of contradictions.  In fact, I'm pretty sure that the very first thing I read when I found out I would be coming here in 2010 described it as such.  A land of great wealth but of great poverty.  A land of the highly educated and the illiterate.  Etc.

Today, however, I was orienting a new employee to the U.S. higher education system.  And I realized that the good old USA is quite full of contradictions itself…

Let’s talk about the difference between private universities and state/public universities.  State schools are generally bigger…oh hold on, that’s not always true.  Stanford has about 20,000 students, grad and undergrad.  Ok…well, private universities pride themselves on their small class size and personable faculty and staff.  But no, my cousin at the U often had classes in the teens and enjoyed much better mentorship with her professors than I did at my small, private, liberal arts college of 3,500.  Well, because state universities are state-funded, they are often less expensive.  Actually, sorry.  We’re dealing with international, non-residential students, so the cost is actually very similar (if not more, because of lack of scholarship opportunities) to the cost of an education at a private university.

I’m not sure that these count as contradictions; the descriptions above of India are more statements of extremes, and perhaps the discussion on higher education in the U.S. is more of a lesson that one can’t generalize or make statement based on common beliefs.  But it definitely made me smile and shake my head, because whether extremes, generalizations, or commonly-held beliefs, it can be confusing.  And I’m sure my poor trainee’s head is a mess.

Speaking of contradictions in the USA, though… what about the English language?  I before E except after C, or sounding like hay as in neighbor or weigh…weird?

Thirsting for Knowledge

I have recently discovered that I have an insatiable thirst for knowledge.  I’ve known this, yes, and in fact two of my “strengths” according to Strengthsfinder are “input” and “learning”. 

Learn something new every day has always been a motto of mine.

          Pumba: What’s a motto?

          Timon: Nothin’ – whats a motto with you?

          Dundun ching!  Thank you, Lion King. And my apologies for the bad joke.  Couldn't resist.

And believe me – every day, living in India, I’m pretty sure that I learn something.  However, the "something" I learn daily isn't necessarily something of intellectual value.  And I hadn’t realized how much I need that in my life!

On Sunday I had a dinner with a delegation from Rollins College.  I happened to sit opposite of an archaeology professor, to whom I confessed that when I was first thinking about college I wanted to study archaeology (still do!).  For the rest of the evening, I sat mesmerized by the stories he told, the research he’s working on.

Did you know that a tribe in northeastern Karnataka (the state in which I live) celebrates its oral tradition and festive culture in a language that is only spoken by 30,000 people in the world?  And where do those 30,000 people live?   Eastern Africa.  Yeah.

I’m hooked.  I’ve always been a world civ girl, but focused more on European history.  So here I go towards the Indus Valley civilizations.  I’m SO intrigued.  How did these people get here?  From what son of Noah did they come?  Why did they travel from the Mediterranean?  Did you know that during the 600s BC there was HUGE trade between the Mediterranean and the Indian Ocean?  Why didn’t I ever learn about that during world civ?  And that, according to one source, the first Jewish people came to India during the reign of King Darius…the second group coming during the Jewish diaspora after the destruction of the temple in AD 70?

And that, supposedly, Thomas the Apostle (commonly known as Doubting Thomas) was the first “missionary” to come to India with the intent of sharing the Good News with the Jews who had settled here.  I’ve studied the crossroads of civilization.  I’ve studied the Babylon and Assyrian empires.  I’ve studied early Christianity.  I’ve studied the Roman empire and the Jewish diasporas.  Why has India never been included? 

OH.  And did you know that Sanskrit is related to the romance languages.  Yeah.  The most obvious example of this is when we look at the word King (English), Raja (Sanskrit), Rey (Spanish), Roi (French), Re (Italian).  I’m also a lover of linguistics, so I am absolute and completely fascinated.  (Unfortunately Kannada, the Indian language I am learning, is far from Sanskrit – I believe it is a Dravidic language - and absolutely nothing like the Romance languages I have studied in my past.)

A word to the wise: all of my reading and findings have thus far been courtesy of the internet.  So they may not be completely accurate.  But I always try to find opposing viepoints and differing accounts…one of the excitements of being a “Learner”!

So.  Needless to say, increasing my knowledge has brought a lot of joy to my life.  Life to my life, in fact.  And I realize how much learning is really a core piece to who I am. 

A Special Visitor

Today I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon with Mary Pawlenty, former America state court judge and wife of Tim Pawlenty, former governor of Minnesota and presidential candidate (2012).

She is connected with my boss and is traveling in India, so she put our Center in her agenda.  Today was a holiday, but I had no complaints when it came to coming to work to welcome her ;)

I’ve met Mrs. Pawlenty several times before, in passing, and we have some common ground (Minnesota, Bethel, etc.).  But I’ve never had the opportunity to sit and chat with her.

What a lovely lady.

We had a beautiful chat, and when she realized it was time for her to head to the airport, she closed her eyes, gathered her thoughts, and said, “Thank you.”  She continued, giving me a list.  Each sentence started with “Thank you for...” Some were professional.  Some were personal.  Every one was meaningful.  After “Thank you for being a woman of strength”, she gave me a big hug.

It was exactly the encouragement that I needed today, this week, this month.  A conversation with a woman who barely knows me, but genuinely cares and is intentional to know the person with whom she interacts, regardless of how short or long the time.

On days like today, I blink rapidly, shake my head, and wonder with amazement why I am where I am.  I am a Minnesotan in Bangalore.  I am only 25. I am privileged to be doing exactly what my dream has been, exactly what I went to school for.  Every day presents its own challenges, but every day I learn and grow.  The people with whom I have been privileged to interact, the places I have been, is sometimes mind-boggling, and I am not unaware that with great opportunity comes great responsibility.  Sometimes I wonder why me, and sometimes I wonder how it will all fit together, what future these experiences are preparing me for.

But regardless of where the journey leads, I am thankful for today.  And for today’s tomorrow.