Half-Year Reflections

February 14th (yes, I realize that was almost 2 weeks ago at this point... I was out of the country; give me a break) marked the halfway point of my year of service in India. This year has challenged me and my expectations at just about every turn so far, and this halfway point seems as good a time as any to look at the experiences I've had so far and the things that I've learned.

About a year ago when I was applying for this program, at the placement event in April when I found out I would be coming to India, at our orientation in August, and even for the first few weeks here, I had a pretty clear idea of what International Mission Service meant, and how I was particularly equipped to engage in it. My year, I imagined, would be spent cross-legged on the dirt floors of the homes of the marginalized in Indian society. I would listen to their stories (told, of course, in intelligible, if quaintly idiomatic, English. Either that or I would have a good enough working knowledge of Malayalam to understand their stories in their own tongue). I would create a blog to share the stories of these voiceless people, and write songs addressing the overarching social issues that perpetuate poverty and caste stratification and deprivation. My work at UC College would be a point of entry to engage these issues and to engage young Christians (and Hindus and Muslims and Buddhists) in discussion about responses and responsibilities to these issues; to cultivate awareness and a desire and feeling of responsibility to change oppressive, unjust structures of oppression, violence, and deprivation.

Thus far I have done precisely none of these things.

Before I came here, my mom's cousin asked what I was expecting this year to be like. I gave what I thought was the "correct" answer and said that I was trying not to have any expectations. I only wanted to stay open, receptive, and responsive to the reality of my situation and to the experiences I would have and the lessons I would learn in and from India. Once I settled into life here, however, I realized just how many expectations I had been secretly harbouring. Mostly I recognized this by how many of them were utterly dashed. I'm living in a retirement home for rich old folks, and working at a College whose population is ostentationsly upper-middle class with no interest in social justice. Rather than engaging the students in discourse addressing social issues, the college has made use of me teaching English, helping to publish its newsletter, and researching and writing a history of the institution. The teaching has been cool. I like teaching, am good at it, and have become reasonably sure that it is the vocation I am being called to. Sadly, however, I have not been used in this capacity nearly as much as I would have liked. Aside from mid-November to mid-December when I was teaching an average of two classes a day, I've only been teaching two or three classes a week. And since the end of December, when exams began, I've been doing even less than that.

I spend most of the workday at the computer in the library uploading pictures, composing intermittent blog posts, and writing e-mails to friends and family. I also take tea approximately 8 times a day. After my "work" at the college is finished, I run, read, and meditate until bed. I've barely done any work on the history of the college and the Journalism Club, with whom I would create a quarterly newsletter, has yet to materialize.

I have attempted to insinuate myself into life here in various ways, but never successfully. I used to spend time with the Student Christian Fellowship. All that means is that I used to attend their meetings. Once in a while I would teach a song, and occasionally I would deliver a message stressing the idea that to be a Christian means to emulate the life of Christ and to confront the injustice that we see in the world. I spend time on Saturdays with Share Light, a group of college students who work with local dalit children, helping them with homework, playing with them, and providing a forum for them to share their talents. The kids only speak Malayalam. I don't. I can't help them in any way, and the college students want me to be a resource for Western methods of teaching and education. I share my thoughts with them, but I don't think apeing Western education will solve the problems they are trying to address. The kids like it when I bring my camera and take pictures of them, and they like the movements to the Fishy Song ("Have you ever seen a fishy on a hot summer day?"). So I guess that's something. I will sometimes spend an afternoon visiting homes in the nearby dalit colony, but there's no real relationship there. Again, language is the biggest barrier as few of the people there speak any English, and my Malayalam does not go much beyond "What is your name? My name is Andrew. How are you?". Mostly I drink a lot of tea and smile and nod a lot.

As you can probably tell, I'm pretty disappointed with myself. I've been told that the blame lies both with me and with the college. Yes, it would be nice if I was more outgoing and more willing and able to form informal friendly relationships. But acknowledging that I'm not, the college should take measures to facilitate my entry into life here. They haven't, and they won't. Yes, I should try to be a presence in the poor community outside the college, but understanding the language barrier and my own social dysfunctions, the college should have a formal outreach structure that would involve students as well as me. They don't, and they're not going to.

Anytime it seems that I'm being extremely pessimistic or self-denigrating, bear in mind that that's never all I'm doing. When things piss me off or when I'm doubting myself or struggling with something, I always see it as an opportunity for self-reflection and growth. And that is mostly what I think I've gotten out of this year so far.

I've had to completely let go of my ideas about what it means to be a missionary; what it means to serve God and to trust that he knows what he's doing, even when we don't. We don't get much control over the situations that we find ourselves in. All we can do is the best we can with what we're given. Of course we can change our circumstances up to a point. But there are always things we can't control and situations, no matter how carefully laid out, will never be exactly the way we've planned. To live a Christian life is not to serve God the way we want to or the way we think we ought to. It is to allow God to work through us in whatever circumstances we find ourselves. So I'm not able to minister directly to the poor and marginalized. So I'm not able to form close relationships with people from an entirely different culture (hell, it's hard enough for me to form relationships with people in my hometown...). This doesn't mean that I'm a failure or that my year is a waste of time and money. The good that I intend to do never gets done. But I'm sure I'm doing plenty of good I never meant to. And that's the best kind of good.

While I may not be able to say what good I'm doing for people here or at home, I know that I'm growing significantly as a result of the challenges, doubts, and frustrations I face. Like I said, anything that irritates or frustrates me is an opportunity for growth and there is always a lesson that can be learned from these things. I've written about some of these lessons at length before, so I won't reiterate them here. My self-reliance and independence are taking a very inconvenient shape here and are significantly hindering my entrance into meaningful relationships. I would never have to examine these traits in the US where they are considered the ideal. As it is, though, I have to dig at these characteristics and try to lay bare their roots so that I can get past them and open myself to others. It is unlikely that this will be done in another 5 months, but this is an important work of self-examination that would never have been started otherwise.

I've begun (and have found that I really enjoy) reading the Bible. The Old Testament is full of great stories and fascinating anthropology and ethnology. The Gospels lay out the kind of life we're called to lead, and the Acts show how humans struggle to lead this life. The Psalms cover the entire spectrum of human emotion, and the Epistles are full of great advice, from one person to another.

The time that I take for myself, running and meditating, are probably the most valuable times and my favourite times of the day. They allow me to be alone and silent and still and to "just be." The idea behind our Ministry of Presence here is that we are supposed to "just be" with the community. But I think it's just as important to just be with ourselves as well, and this is often overlooked.

And probably the most important part of my year so far: I eat Arrowroot (son of Arrowshirt) biscuits. That's a little esoteric Bored of the Rings humour that only my dad, brother, and, by osmosis, mom will get.