Prayers for Peace

We are just ending the advent season which celebrates the birth of the Prince of Peace, and moving into a new year full of hope and potential. This is the time of year when all things seem possible, when we are reminded of the power of God to defy expectations.

This is also a time of year when I remember with great joy my time living in northern Sri Lanka, where the Christmas season was full of carol singing and community events, lots of time spent with friends and in church. Things in Sri Lanka are not going so well now, with the conflict going full-force again. After around 25 years of on-and-off fighting, many wonder if they will ever see peace.

The following letter was written by Dan Muthuveloe, a Sri Lankan expatriate living in England, who recently spent some time in Jaffna (northern Sri Lanka) in the midst of the current conflict. Following his letter describing the situation for people living in Jaffna is an excellent prayer guide, both for this particular conflict or for other places in our world that face ongoing violence. As we start a new year, I am hopeful that peace really is possible. I pray it will come soon.

Diane
********************************

My experiences in Jaffna - Summer 2007

I would like to share with you my experiences of Jaffna from a Tamil point of view. I am sure what I have to say could be matched by equally harrowing stories from other parts of North and East such as the Vanni, Mannar, Sampoor, Vaharai etc, and perhaps from the South by Sinhalese and Muslims who have also suffered pain and loss.

During the three months I spent in Jaffna recently, I met with many ordinary people. Many of them related to me their harrowing experiences and tales, which made me listen to them spell bound, speechless with no words of comfort or encouragement to give in return. I could only sigh. I was amazed at the capacity of people to cope with tremendous anxiety, fear, deprivation and the dehumanising infringement of their right to the pursuit of happiness and a quiet life.

After my return from Jaffna I have been pondering about the dire situation I left behind. I vowed to return. Not because I am able to do something for them, but purely because I wanted to be there and be with them and feel the fear and anxiety and humiliation they feel day in and day out. They have no advocate. They have no political voice.

There were days when I could not eat. Not because the food was not palatable. On the contrary the food was delicious as only the Jaffna cuisine could be. I had no appetite after hearing sad story after story of pain from crushed hearts.

Killings and abductions occurred daily. I have seen dead bodies by the road side. They were mostly young men who have been shot and killed. It is usually reported the next day in the Uthayan News paper that persons of unknown identity are thought to have been the killers. Friends and neighbours are scared to befriend the bereaved family for fear of their lives in case they also become victims of the killers. I was told that the victims were young men who were active politically, either when in University or as journalists or as activists during ‘Pongu Thamil’ celebrations and other political demonstrations. The killings did not appear to be random but targeted. Many of the abducted are given up for dead because so few of them return alive. The killings of these young men have left a growing number of young widows and fatherless children. The ‘recent’ widows number over a thousand. Last month alone 57 men were killed in the Jaffna peninsula. Wives and mothers are anxious each morning when their husbands and children leave home until they return in the evening.

The sound of gunfire, shells and aerial bombing can be heard daily. It is not only a constant reminder of the ongoing conflict but causes our hearts to sink. The children are petrified. Some shake with fear. Scattered through out the main trunk roads are sentry points where one is checked for identity cards. If you are riding a motorcycle or scooter, the army may take your bike from you for their use. You will be very thankful when the bike is returned without damage.

Cordon and search operations occur at any time of day or night. The trunk roads [Palaly Road, KKS Road, Pt.Pedro Road and the A9] are closed to civilian traffic twice a day for three to four hours. While I was there the nightly curfew was from 7 pm to 4 am. People are at home by 6 pm and do not venture out. Killings, abductions and robberies take place under cover of the curfew.

The people in Jaffna have no dignity or self worth or confidence as evidenced by the cringing posture and body language and the gibbering apology for their existence when stopped by the army.

The A 9, the only road to the rest of the country, has been closed for over a year. This has caused great hardship to the people. Food and essential items have to be shipped to the peninsula. While I did not see starvation I certainly saw malnutrition and failure to thrive and growth retardation in young children. Cement was four times the price in Colombo. There is hardly any construction work going on in Jaffna.

The declaration of High Security Zones by the army has resulted in several communities being evacuated from their homes and villages. They have been languishing in temporary housing for the last 14 years. They are referred to as I.D.Ps- Internally Displaced People. They are the forgotten people of this prolonged conflict.

The people in Jaffna are indeed subjugated and held captive in what amounts to an open prison. They cannot leave the peninsula unless they have an exit permit from the Grama Sevaka and the Army. Hundreds could be seen at the different army camps trying to obtain their permits to get to Colombo to find a new life.

The population of Jaffna in 1981 was 800 thousand people. Today it has drastically dwindled to 250 thousand persons and the numbers are continuing to haemorrhage. The number of army personnel in Jaffna is 60 thousand. Hence for every four civilian persons in Jaffna, there is an armed soldier with an automatic gun or machine gun.

The recurrent heartfelt cry that I heard in Jaffna was the sense of hopelessness and the feeling of desolation. Hopelessness because the people of Jaffna had put hope in their politicians through the democratic process. They had hoped in the freedom struggle through the efforts of the ‘boys’- the freedom fighters to some but terrorists to others. They had hoped in every new Prime Minister and President for an equitable solution for all time. They had hoped in the IPKF. They had hoped in the CFA. They had hoped the Norwegians would broker a deal for all time. The International community, the United Nations, the European Union and the Co-Chairs have not done enough to stop the genocide.

I could sense a feeling of desolation, a feeling of being abandoned and lonely and forlorn without friends. A feeling of utter hopelessness filled my heart as well. We have put our trust in men and horses and chariots with no avail. Our hopes have been dashed time and again. We as Tamils and as Sri Lankans as peace loving people have stood back in horror, feeling utterly helpless and alienated.


Our Response

A call to Prayer and Intercession - for Peace with Justice and Reconciliation

Though the Call to Prayer is from a Tamil Christian perspective, because that is what I am, the Call does not exclude any one. The problems in Sri Lanka transcend race and religion. We are all affected one way or another, some more than others. We, what ever our background, have a common interest and a common burden for our country. We are all children of God, we could all cry to God. Our God hears and responds to all our prayers. You are welcome to join us what ever your faith is, Buddhist, Hindu, Christian, Catholic or Muslim.

1] Pray for the cessation of hostilities.
Pray for Peace diplomats.
Pray for the defusing of anger and revenge.

2] Pray for the return of the sanctity of life.
Pray that killings and abductions will cease.
Pray that there will be no need for any more violent deaths

3] Pray for the return of civil rule and democracy.
Pray for the return of dialogue.
Pray for tolerance and respect of other points of view.
Pray for the spirit of generosity, to live and let live

4] Pray for Just Peace.
Pray that fear and apprehension and anxiety will be no more.
Pray for the Liberty and the Freedoms of each person in equal measure.

5] Pray for ALL aid workers, politicians and journalists.
Pray for their safety.
Pray for their important work.

6] Pray for ALL war widows and their dependants
Pray for ALL orphans.
Pray for ALL the war disabled and maimed

7] Pray for ALL Refugees- Internally Displaced People

Pray for Ourselves

We all have a High Calling. It is a duty and obligation that is expected of us. We cannot shun it. We are called to stand in the gap and intercede and pray for the world around us. We need to pray as though we ourselves are in trouble and are part of the problem- the terrible situation that continues to prevail in Sri Lanka. That will be true intercession.

Oh, that God may grant each of us a heart felt heart cry that will flow to heaven’s throne. Let us ask God to first change our own hearts and attitudes so that we can respond to His Call to Prayer.

Pray for Peace and Goodwill

The Christmas message is ‘Peace on earth and good will to man’
It’s a message that heralded the birth of Christ who was described as the Prince of Peace. Christ himself said that the peace he gives is not as the world gives.

Peace is a fundamental human right. Every human born on this planet has a right to a peaceful existence. Yet we rob each other of peace by our own actions that stems from a heart that is uncaring.

Oh! That God will change our uncaring attitudes to our fellow humans.
Let us in this season of peace, pray for peace and good will among all in Sri Lanka.
May God help us and the people of Sri Lanka to empty ourselves of all the distrust and fear of each other and once again believe in each other’s good will. God can restore this in all our hearts as we pray earnestly.


Pray for Human Rights

The 10th of December was the World Human Rights Day. Sri Lanka has the highest incidence in the world of killings and abductions that go uninvestigated. Yet Sri Lanka has declined to allow the UN body to have an office in Colombo, claiming that it has its own mechanisms to monitor Human Rights violations.

Let us pray for the integrity, honesty and duty of care of all the agents of the State of Sri Lanka that they may exercise righteous governance.

Let us remember and pray for the following people who have suffered.

1] Over 3000 Tamil people were arbitrarily arrested and sent to Boossa Detention Camp near Galle. Several have been released. There are still many kept incommunicado under the PTA laws.
Pray for the frightened Tamil people.

2] Pray for the open prison – the Jaffna peninsula –the subjugation of the innocent people by military rule. The ordinary civilian population is subjected to very harsh conditions- restriction of movement, curfew, lack of food and essentials, indiscriminate stops and searches, abductions and killings.

3] Pray for the Internally Displaced People [IDP] evacuated from their homes and agricultural lands by the army in the so-called recently liberated areas of Mannar, Sampoor Vaharai and Batticoloa. Let us not forget the I.D.P.s following the creation of the High Security Zones and the Muslims displaced from Jaffna.

Our God is one whose heart is for the poor and disadvantaged. We could call on Him to have mercy in our time of need. He will heal the broken hearted. He will set the captives free and set at liberty them that are bruised.


Pray for the Sanctity of Life

Kfir planes have been continuing to bomb towns and villages in Vanni – Mullai- tivu, Puthukudiyirruppu, Alampil, Killinochi, Tharmapuram indiscriminately causing death, destruction and disruption of the lives of ordinary people. Students sitting for public exams last week had to rush out to get into bunkers and bomb shelters while doing public exams.
In the month of November 2007–
27 Tamil persons were killed in the Vanni by Claymore mines by the Deep Penetration Unit of the Sri Lankan Army and by bombings by the Sri Lanka Air Force.
21 Tamil persons were shot and killed in the Jaffna peninsula.

The following incidents are examples of what is happening on a daily basis in the army occupied Jaffna peninsula.

A youth, S. Inthirakanthan aged 23, shot and injured at home during curfew hours by armed men on motor bikes, in Kalviyangkaddu, while watching TV with his family, succumbed to his injuries at Jaffna Teaching hospital on Monday 10th December.

A civilian, Velupillai Sivayoham who went missing was found dead on Monday10th December, with assault injuries on his body near the well of the Heroes’ Resting Home at Ellangkulam, Uddupiddy..

Sivayogarasa, a father of two and a resident of Polikandi went missing at 6.30 am after leaving home. He was beaten to death and his body was found dumped.

On Saturday 8th December gunmen shot dead Singham aged 70,an elderly trader, at his house, in Chaavakachcheri around 7:30 a.m.

The body of Sooriyakanthy Thavarasa a Red Cross worker, who was abducted on Friday 14th December was found on Sunday the 16th. He was the third Red Cross worker to be killed this year.

In the recent bombings in Colombo, 20 innocent people lost their lives. A further 16 people were killed when a bomb exploded in a bus with civilian passengers in Kebithegollewa.

In the battlefields around Vanni, in this undeclared civil war, both warring sides claim killings on a daily basis.

Oh that we may all feel the value and preciousness of each life whether Sinhala or Tamil, whether soldier, para-military or terrorist or freedom fighter. A life that is so easily snuffed out but none of us could give back. Oh Lord, give us back the respect and sanctity for each other’s life.
Please pray for the family and friends of the victims of all those who lost their lives in the recent weeks. May the God of all comfort, comfort the bereaved and bereft and bring a speedy end to the callous and wanton destruction of lives.

Pray for the freedom of the Press & the Media

Seven media organisations including Free Media Movement (FMM), Sri Lanka Tamil Journalists Movement and Working Journalists Association staged a protest demonstration and march on Monday 10th December. Eleven journalists and media personnel have been killed in recent times.

Let us remember the assassinated journalists Taraki Sivaram, Mylvaganam Nirmalarajan and Nadesan.

Pray for the safety of all journalists.
Pray that the people in the south will not be kept in the dark about the oppression of the Tamils in the North and East. . Pray for the freedom of the press. Pray that the media will be responsible and truthful and play an important role in national reconciliation and peace with justice for all.

We invite you to join the Call to Prayer and pray with us for a speedy resolution to the conflict and for Peace with Justice and Reconciliation

Meme Martha

The most memorable part of the trip, for all of us, was definitely our homestay with families in rural northern Namibia. This is Owambo country, where tribal councils (see photo on left) and kings still mediate many disputes and make decisions. The modern and traditional co-exist here, with many of our host families living in a mixture of new cement buildings and stick-and-thatch huts within their family homestead.

This is also a place where the African "culture of care" we had heard so much about came to life. Our guide, Paulos, had told us that long before we arrived our host families had been praying for us and preparing for our visit, and we found this to be obvious in the way they welcomed us, in the signs that my host mom had posted that said, "welcome my student daughters, feel at home," in the hand-woven basket one family made for my classmate Jason with his initials in it, in the devotion and prayers that my host mom had written out in English to read through with us on our first night with her. We were welcomed with a genuine and generous warmth, even though we were strangers.

We stayed in pairs with different families around the small town of Oniipa. Raven and I were adopted into Meme Martha's family, along with her 5 year old son and 9 year old niece (her husband works in a mine in a distant part of the country). We cooked with her, and she took pride in introducing us to Owambo culture, especially the foods - Mehangu porridge, black-eyed-pea-like beans, a fermented flour-based drink. We visited her mother's homestead, where we watched the strong Namibian women pound Mehangu flour with ease (Raven and I were not quite so graceful wielding the heavy pounding stick), and where Kuku (grandmother) presented us with the light pink strands of beads worn by women of their tribe.

Throughout our time there, we could feel the powerful bonds of family and community which permeate the African lifestyle. When Meme Martha's brother and sister-in-law died, she took in her young niece. Neighbors came by to ask for or offer favors (like one who came to recharge her cell phone, since her own house doesn't have electricity). One of our speakers in Namibia told our group that even with such high unemployment and poverty, few people in the country starve because as long as one relative has an income, he or she will support any extended family members who are in need.

Meme Martha also gave me a great insight into our Western notions of hunger and abundance. She began asking me about traditional American foods, and whether we have many farms in the U.S. When I explained that the vast majority of people get their food from supermarkets, not from their own farm or garden, she was surprised. She was even more shocked to find out that we can't even go to a neighboring farm to buy a goat or cow. She then asked, "But what about people who don't have any money - how can they eat?" For a culture where even the poorest family grows Mehangu flour for porridge and bread, and where those without money can depend on relatives and neighbors for food, our Western system must seem pretty backwards.

I'm grateful that I was able to experience the abundant African hospitality and community for a few days in Oniipa.

Namibia

After spending the first part of my summer in India and Sri Lanka, I was not prepared for what I found when I arrived in Africa for the first time: well-maintained, paved roads; water you could drink right out of the tap; modern buildings downtown that made you feel you were in a European town…

Arriving in Windhoek, Namibia with 16 fellow theology students/professors was a bit of a shock. This was not the Africa we had heard about on the news or from Bono. Where was the poverty? We found it the next day when our tour guide, Urbanus, led us to the top of a hill overlooking the city and began to explain the history of Windhoek. He pointed out the upscale neighborhood where all of the wealthy (and white) residents live. He then began to describe how, under apartheid (Namibia was under the control of South Africa for decades), people were forcibly uprooted from their homes and segregated into settlements based on race and tribe. Black residents were resettled in Katatura, which means “the place where we do not want to live.”
We later drove down the hill, past the wealthy subdivisions, into Katatura. There, we saw endless rows of makeshift tin shacks, clinging at precarious angles onto sloping hillsides, as far as we could see. Bumpy dirt roads twisted through the sea of tin and cardboard, with no grocery stores or public transportation nearby. This is the Africa we had been expecting. This is the Namibia with an unemployment rate of somewhere between 35% (the official figures) and 75% (our guide’s estimate). This is the Namibia where over 20% of the population is HIV positive. This is the Namibia that is classified by the World Bank as a “middle income” country, but which has one of the highest rates of income disparity (gap between rich and poor) in the world. This is the legacy of colonialism and apartheid, which determined people’s opportunities, education, neighborhood, and even gravesite based solely on the color of their skin.

The tour also included visits to the clean, shady cemetery where whites had been buried under apartheid (now, those who can afford it can be buried there – but few blacks can afford the fees, even today), as well as the dusty cemetery for blacks, littered with broken headstones – most of which only have a number, not a name. Even in death, the grip of racism continues to separate people. The cemeteries really had an impact on our group, making us feel a deep sense of hopelessness.

Luckily, our next stop was a meeting with Bishop Kameeda, head of one of the branches of the Lutheran Church in Namibia. During the struggle for independence, the church had been a prophetic voice speaking out against the oppressive policies of South African rule. Now, the church is turning its attention to the oppressive forces of poverty and unemployment that continue to keep many black Namibians from flourishing. We were all inspired by the Bishop’s passion to help those in need, and although his proposal for providing monthly income grants to all Namibians is somewhat controversial, our hope was renewed for Namibia’s future.

Africa is more than its unemployment and HIV rates. It’s more than its infrastructure and water supply. Over and over again during our two weeks there, it was the spirit, strength and warmth of the people that gave us a real sense of why we came to Africa, and ensured that we will never forget our time there. I hope to share more stories of the people we encountered with you soon…

Home

I'm back home in Tennessee for a few days before joining my VDS classmates on a new adventure in Namibia. I'm looking forward to traveling with friends this time - 6 weeks of traveling on my own got a little lonely.

I've posted some photos with some of my previous entries...enjoy!

Matale

As I read over my last post, I wondered if I'm making too much of a distinction between the ethnic groups here. The Tamils in Sri Lanka have certainly faced particular difficulties because of their ethnic background, and the "Indian" Tamil estate workers especially. But there are also many very poor Sinhalese villagers as well. And repeatedly during my stay here in Sri Lanka, people (of various backgrounds) have reminded me that they don't feel any anamosity towards the other ethnic group. They have repeatedly told me that they all want peace, and that they can all get along.

One of my Satyodaya field visits was to an area outside of Matale called Luckyland, also a former plantation area that is no longer functioning as a large tea estate. Now, it's more of a quiet hilltop village, where Tamils and Sinhalese live side by side. All of them say that their main problem is a lack of jobs in this remote area, now that the tea plantations have been divided up into small plots.

This village also faces problems from a lack of good infrastructure. Residents have to trek long distances up and down steep slopes in order to carry water to their homes. (I had a hard enough time climbing up the slopes to visit their houses without carrything anything). The main water source sits a 9-12 kilometer hike uphill from the homes, although there are a few smaller wells closer to the houses that they can use when it's not the dry season.

After Satyodaya helped the residents organize themselves into a Community People's Organization, the first thing the CPO decided to do was install a water supply system. They said they had been asking the government for help with this for nearly 20 years, with no results. So, they decided to do it themselves. I think they did manage to get some funding for it from the government with the collective voice of the CPO. And Satyodaya also helped to provide some of the initial funding. So, the villagers began the labor-intensive work of digging trenches for the 12 kilometers of pipes down from the water source, and mixing cement and installing spouts along the way at each house. After nearly a year of work, they are almost done and expect to have water supplied to each house within 2 weeks of my visit. Each household will pay a minimal fee each month to pay a caretaker, who will be responsible for maintenance.

When I visited on a Sunday afternoon, there were several villagers mixing cement near one house...men and women, Sinhalese and Tamils, working side by side. The majority of the villagers here are Sinhalese, but they elected a Tamil man as the president of their CPO. These hardworking, generous people seemed to have a strong sense of fellowship with one another. They also warmly welcomed me, and at each home I visited I was sent away with something - kitul (like hardened molasses) from their palm trees, jambu (a small red fruit) from their garden, papaya to take back to one of the Satyodaya staff who has been ill...

They may have a lot of poverty and structural problems to overcome in Luckyland, but their sense of community and shared identity is much stronger than in many much wealthier places.

Craigingilt

My first field visit with Satyodaya was to Craigingilt, a former tea estate that has now been parceled out to local people. These subdivided plots of land were given to the Sinhalese villagers who lived in the surrounding villages, not to the Tamil tea pluckers who had worked on the estate for generations. Of course, this may be an attempt to rectify the British actions of the 1800's, when they took land for their coffee and tea plantations without consulting the local Sinhalese residents. That was before the Tamil laborers were brought in from southern India to work on the estates (sidenote: I read an interesting article today that said the British had originally considered importing workers from Africa, but that Britain had just outlawed slavery; so instead they "employed" these impoverished Indians at the lowest wages possible instead).

So, with very little tea plantation work available, and without land of their own, the Tamils in Craigingilt were left to seek odd jobs or other agricultural labor. Satyodaya began organizing them, helping them to build a community center and form a CPO (Community People's Organization). Some got loans to start their own business (I visited one couple who sew duffle bags). Even though most of them no longer worked on the estates, they were still living in the tiny, dingy linerooms that had been provided by the plantation. So, they petitioned the government for some land (which they bought with a no-interest loan from Satyodaya) and began building their own homes. The people did the unskilled labor themselves, and Satyodaya employed local Sinhalese masons to help with the skilled building.

The houses have two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen. There is a common bathing area. All of the homes have small gardens, and some grow spices or keep bees to earn a little extra income. The people also petitioned the government for electricity connections. Because they all came together as a community and stood up for their rights, they were able to get responses from government officials who had long ignored this community (except maybe at election time). The community is really beautiful, set in the hills with lush green trees and fields surrounding them. A neat stone stairway climbs up (and up, and up) from house to house.

At the top of the hill, the CPO has started a pre-school, which helps the children get a head start on their education, so that they will be able to get better jobs than their parents. The parents pay a small fee each month for the teacher's salary. Everything that they've done has been through their own efforts, with Satyodaya only providing technical support and some loans to get them started.

Now this community of about 70 families has a good, friendly relationship with their Sinhalese neighbors. They say that previously, the people in the neighboring villages looked down on them and wouldn't associate with them. But now, they have the dignity of owning their own homes and of knowing how to stand up for themselves. Now, the different ethnic groups attend each others' festivals and community programs. This area is one of Satyodaya's biggest success stories, and they no longer have field staff responsible for Craigingilt, because all the programs are planned and carried out by the residents themselves.

Elkaduwa

Today I got to see the plantation sector from a different perspective. Through a network of mutual friends, I had contact info for a British guy who is managing a small private tea estate about 45 minutes outside of Kandy, so he took me up to see it and talk a bit about his experience. He's been managing the place for about a year, on behalf of his uncle who owns it. They have about 12 families working for them, who live on the estate in the traditional line houses (which are pretty run down, like on most of the plantations).

After all of the discouraging (and disparaging) things I'd been hearing on my other visits about plantation owners and supervisors who don't care about the laborers, it was refreshing to see that this management has made a sincere effort to address the conditions in which the workers live. But even so, they are struggling to figure out the most effective and productive way to go about this. They started by installing electricity in the workers' homes, but without really consulting the workers themselves, so it wasn't as beneficial to them as the managers had imagined it might be. Turns out that after living without electricity for so long, the workers weren't all that interested in paying to have electric lights.

They have also tried to raise wages a bit, but met protests from the surrounding estate owners who couldn't (or wouldn't) raise wages above the nationally-mandated minimum (at least the owners in this area actually pay the minimum wage - from what I hear, not all do). So, they try to give small bonuses or other ammenities when they can. They're installing better water supply lines, bathing areas, and toilets, and their long term plan is to improve the housing. And they're trying some other approaches to raise small amounts of additional income/resources, like gardens, bee keeping, and a small fish farm. Still, life for the estate workers isn't easy, and for the small estates that most of the tea is grown on now, it isn't always easy to make a profit. Instead of the large corporate-like tea plantations that once dominated the tea sector in Sri Lanka, much of the tea is now grown on small plots, and then sold to companies which process and package the tea. What does all of this mean for those of us who buy and drink tea in the west? Good question...I haven't quite figured that out yet. It's hard to know which are the "good" brands of tea to support when the inputs come from so many different, smaller companies that could have varying levels of treatment for their workers.

The estate I visited today was also quite beautiful and peaceful - a very pleasant place to spend the day. They have a guesthouse in the big old bungalow, with amazing views of the surrounding hills, a nearby waterfall, and a swimming pool. Maybe a successful future for the Sri Lankan tea industry will include a mix of tourism and production.

I have a few more days here in Kandy, then I'm hoping to do a little traveling around and sightseeing. I had gotten my hopes up that I might be able to visit Jaffna, where I used to live, and catch up with my friends there. Unfortunately, after talking with my old boss, it seems like it's not a good idea to head up there, since the security situation is uncertain there right now. So, I'm disappointed about that. But maybe other interesting adventures await...

Tea time

My visit to Satyodaya (the name means 'dawn of truth') in Kandy, Sri Lanka started out slow. The first few days, I mainly was just hanging out in their office/library reading reports and articles about their work, and talking to their staff. Don't feel TOO sorry for me though, because their office/library/guesthouse is on a hill overlooking Kandy lake and has a spectacular view. And the staff are pretty interesting as well. The organization (they prefer to call it a movement) was started by a Jesuit priest, Father Paul Caspersz, who is still with Satyodaya even though he just celebrated his 80th birthday last week. He has a great memory, and lots of stories about the problems the Indian Tamil tea estate workers have faced, and how Satyodaya has worked with them (and their Sinhalese neighbors) over the past 30 years.

The group started as an intentional living community and research center, bringing together all the various ethnic/religious/linguistic groups of Sri Lanka. As ethnic tensions grew over the years, their work extended to community organizing and development. They have a special interest in improving the economic conditions of the laborors on the tea plantations, but in the process they strive to build relationships between the Tamils and the Sinhalese ethnic groups (and Muslims as well, when any are present in the area). I've been especially impressed with how well they do this - it is quite a hopeful sign in a country that has struggled with nearly 3 decades of ethnic warfare.

The other thing that is impressive about the movement is the way they develop local leadership in the communities. In all of the development projects they are involved in, they only provide the initial training and access to resources - the local residents themselves make the decisions, do the work, and maintain the projects. They always start their involvement in an area by encouraging the residents to form a CPO (community people's organization) and build a community center.

I've visited three very different field sites so far, all former tea estates that have mostly been divided into smaller private plots or turned into villages - all with a lack of employment for the local people since the larger tea estates are no longer functioning. At the first, Craigingilt, the community was able to petition the government to buy a plot of land and then build simple but decent homes with no-interest loans from Satyodaya (reminded me of my Habitat days). In the second, Erin, the former tea pluckers are still living in the cramped, dingy linerooms provided by the estate. And today we went to Luckyland, where the multi-ethnic community has banded together to build a water system that will pipe clean drinking water to every house in the village. I'll write about these in more detail later.

I'm actually reading Jeffrey Sach's "End of Poverty" right now, which is making it especially interesting to contemplate economic development from both ends of the spectrum, since he approaches the problem of poverty from a governement perspective and what can be done on a macro-economic level to improve an entire country's financial situation, and in the meantime I'm seeing a very personal view of how poverty effects individuals at the village level - but all the buzzwords like globalization and immigration and such are very relevant to the situation of these villagers living at the end of a twisting dirt road on the top of a mountain... (as a side note, on the bus ride today home from Luckyland I saw a 'taco bell' sign on a small shop that I'm sure only serves sri lankan curries, and an 'ikea' sign on a local furniture store in a small village, too!).

It's a small, small world

I was a bit surprised when I ran into former students and colleagues from Sri Lanka at TTS, but since it is affiliated with the church I worked with in Jaffna, it wasn't a huge shock. But yesterday, I was REALLY astounded when I bumped into a former Jaffna College student on the crowded streets of Chennai, one of the biggest cities in southern India.

I had only been in town for about an hour, and had ventured out to find something to eat. I'd gone less than a block from my hotel when someone came up beside me and said hello - I turned, expecting to see a taxi driver looking for business, but instead it was Rajeevson, one of my favorite former students, who used to teach me the words to all of the popular Tamil film songs. He had just arrived in Chennai himself the previous day, to enroll in a university there (he was studying at the University of Jaffna, but the classes meet so irregularly with the political situation in Sri Lanka now that he found it difficult to make any progress). So, I spent the afternoon sightseeing with he and his roommate (another resident of our old village in Jaffna). It was nice to have some friendly company in an unfamiliar city.

This morning I flew from Chennai to Colombo, Sri Lanka. I enjoyed my time in India, but I'm really excited to be back here again, and catch up with more old friends (on purpose, this time).

Orulai

Last night I got to experience the powerful and pulsating ritual of orulai, a monthly event here at TTS. Orulai means "one pot", and is meant to demonstrate solidarity with the poor through the sharing of a common meal, but it is also a loud and joyful celebration of drumming and dancing and community spirit.

This festival grew out of the lenten tradition of eating kanchi, or rice porridge, on Ash Wednesday. At the suggestion of students, this simple meal became a monthly tradition, to help students remember and experience the life of the poor. Eventually, this practice was combined with another common meal initiated by one of the faculty in which the community came together to prepare and eat a simple meal to demonstrate the rejection of caste, class, and gender barriers (there are taboos against different castes eating together).

So, Orulai was born, and now is organized on the last Wed. of every month. All the students come together and cook the kanchi in clay pots over small fires. They create a traditional design on the ground and place all of the pots in a circle around the drawing. Each person contributes a small, equal amount towards the food, so that money and labor for the meal are equally shared by each person, regardless of class or background.

As the meal is being cooked, some student beat drums (the parai, a traditional drum of the Dalits), and there's singing, shouting, and a generally festive atmosphere. Then, as the kanchi finishes cooking, the drumming gets more intense and the 'invitation' portion of the festival begins. The crowd forms a procession, led by the drums, and parades through the campus (a large, residential area that is almost like an entire village), inviting everyone who hears them to come for the dinner - faculty, manual laborers, family members, etc... Every so often, the drummers stop and form a circle, and people dance frantically in the middle, and the invitation is shouted out by the group.

Once the procession makes its way back to the pots (sweaty and tired from all that dancing), of course there is more drumming and dancing, especially in the circle around the pots. First, the women were invited to dance in the center, then the men, and finally the transgendered persons (who seem to have a relatively large presence in India, although they often tend to be excluded from society). Then everyone sat around the pots and had songs and prayers that renewed their committment to the poor. The smaller pots of kanchi were all poured into one large pot, and the meal was served to everyone.

It was a really moving and fun experience, dancing along with everyone and having a good time, but also remembering the meaning behind the ritual.

A handout describing the meaning of the ceremony was given to me, which I'll summarize below:

• "Orulai Kanchi" reminds us that we are surrounded by the poor and the need for our committment and participation in their struggles of liberation.



• Orulai emphasizes that we are all children of God and need to break the barriers of caste, class and patriarchy.



• Orulai brings us into the family of the children of God, breaking narrow family bonds.




• The simple and equal contribution for our Orulai makes everyone equal.



• Orulai stands against globalization and its manifestation against humankind, especially the poor and nature, such as the fast food joints that have penetrated out society and deplete our economy.


• Orulai is proof for abundance in the life of sharing and living. If the community shares resources and labor equally there will only be abundance.

working for change

One of the more interesting visits over the past week, for me personally, has been the Social Action Center of TTS, since it relates most to the living wage campaign I've been involved with at Vanderbilt this past year. The Social Action Center (SAC) focuses on organizing workers like scavengers, dhobys (who wash clothes), domestic workers, farmers, weavers, etc... A staggering 93% of workers in India are unorganized. This means less than 7% are represented by a union and have guaranteed benefits like social security, disability, maternity leave.

The SAC originally began its efforts among the scavengers, people who clean and carry off trash or waste, and come almost exclusively from the Dalit community. They generally earn less than 350-400 rupees per month (about $10). Although after much agitation, the government declared that scavengers should receive 600 rupees per month, the raise exists only on paper. This seems to be a pattern here - the government enacts some law that improves conditions, then that law is soundly ignored for years and years. It makes all of the advocacy work required to pass the laws seem pretty frustrating and discouraging, when you're not even sure that people will benefit in the end.

It can also be difficult to bring people in the same profession together to stand up for their rights and form unions or coalitions, since often they are scattered in many different villages, and work for numerous private households (as in the case of domestic workers). Because of the continual harassment they face, and lack of response from officials, most workers at the bottom of the social and financial ladder are reluctant to bring any charges when there are problems, because their experience is that their complaints are ignored. Only by organizing themselves so that they can have a unified, louder voice, can any real progress happen.

Some small progress has been made, like the implementation of a board for unorganized workers, which issues i.d. cards and helps these workers get access to accident benefits, health leave, and life insurance. However, the board is not fully funded and so doesn't really function as it was intended.

I was able to sit and talk with some of the organizers, in particular two women who help organize the domestic workers and the basket weavers. It seems like some of the problems they face are similar to those any labor organizer would have in the U.S., and others are unique to India. The caste discrimination certainly adds a whole new dimention to the struggle for dignity and recognition.

And I also learned some disappointing news - Wal-Mart is planning to open stores in India! If they have so much trouble paying fair wages and treating their employees well in the U.S., just imagine what working for them in India would be like!

Old & new friends

India is starting to seem like a small country, after all. Or at least the TTS campus is - in addition to one of my former students from Jaffna College studying here at the seminary, there are several other familiar faces from Jaffna staying in the dorms (and studying or working at other places in Madurai). There's a young woman who spent a few months living at the girls home across the lane from me in Jaffna, and even my old neighbor and fellow teacher Victor is here doing a Masters degree program. There are a couple of others, too, who share mutual friends back in Sri Lanka. So, it's been nice to catch up on the news from my old school and village. It sounds like, in spite of the fighting there, that life pretty much continues as usual.

I've also been able to meet some new, interesting people. On my way home from visiting the TTS Rural Theological Institute (a little bit outside of Madurai), the jeep stopped to pick up another visitor from the airport, and it turned out to be a Dalit theologian whose name I had come across many times while doing my research and readings (Dr. James Massey). He was here for a seminar on "Emerging Dalit Politics," which was held yesterday on campus. A female Dalit politician has recently been elected Chief Minister in Uttar Pradesh, a state to the north of here, and has formed a coalition with some of the upper castes. So, this seminar met to discuss how these developments relate to and impact Dalit politics here in Tamil Nadu state. It was interesting, but also a little complex for me since I am not that familiar with the various Indian political parties and alliances. But the underlying issues of how much an oppressed minority should cooperate with those in power (who have excluded them for years), or how much the minority should only rely on its own resources and people, are relevant well beyond India.

justice in action

Each day keeps getting more and more interesting. Yesterday I spent all morning at the Dalit Resource Center (DRC), which works to empower the Dalit (outcaste) community and has the ambitious goal of eradicating the caste system. Today I visited the Social Action Center, which does community organizing with various labor groups. Plus, I've also been getting to visit with a lot of the students, who are quite friendly. And to top it off, it's been raining, so even the temperature is bearable!

Although untouchability was "outlawed" by the Indian constitution decades ago, like racism there are some things that exist in people's hearts and minds that cannot be legislated away. Many upper caste people still believe that contact with a Dalit is polluting, and justify harsh treatment of Dalits in order to maintain their own "purity."

The DRC has lots of approaches to improving the situation of the untouchables, including those you would expect, like legal advising, advocating with the government for better laws, educations and trainings, etc... But they also have a strong focus on promoting Dalit arts and culture as a means of liberation. This fits with some of the readings I recently did on racism, particularly in the context of colonization and southern Africa, where many of the indigenous cultures were wiped out. If a community can take pride in its arts and culture, then its people have more dignity and a strong identity of their own. They don't feel the need to supress their own culture and try to fit in with those who are trying to dominate them. So, the DRC organizes cultural festivals where te Dalits can display their own forms of folk music, dance, and drama with pride.

One particular symbol of the Dalit community is a type of drum called a pariya. For many upper caste persons, instruments made of leather such as drums are polluting, so they refuse to play them. The director of the DRC told me that he encourages people of all castes to beat these drums as a sign that they are liberated from the caste system. The goal of the center is not to uplift just the Dalit community, in order for them to be in a position to then dominate others, but instead to free all persons, of all castes, from the need for social hierarchies.

trains & theology

I'm finally going to be in one spot for awhile, after being on the go for the past week since I left the U.S. Thank goodness! I arrived in Madurai early this morning, after initially getting on the wrong train last night -- I had a ticket for the Tutocorin Special train at 7:55pm, so when the Tutocorin Express train arrived at 7:40pm, I just thought my train had come a little early and hopped on (the lady next to me looked at my ticket and told me it was the right train...guess I should have asked someone more official). Luckily some other passengers were nice enough to share their seats with me until I could get off and change trains at another station.

I have had a whirlwind first day at Tamil Nadu Theological Seminary (TTS) here in Madurai. It's an amazing school - their theology, the way they put their faith into practice, everything seems to be just what a seminary should be. Here in India, the basic degree is a 4-year batchelor of divinity. The first year, the students live on campus and study things like Dalit (outcaste) theology, spirituality and ecology, women in the church - in addition to the traditional intro stuff like reformation history. The second year, all students are required to live in urban slums, to learn how to identify with and stand in solidarity with the poor. They help their new neighbors organize and advocate for better treatment (all while still attending classes). The third year, they spend one term doing internships with non-profit groups, and 2 terms living in rural villages to learn about the concerns of rural poor (their professors come to them for intensive classes). Then their fourth year they return to campus to process all they've learned and write a thesis.

There are dozens of programs started by the seminary to address what seems like every possible social concern - a Dalit resource center, youth job training programs, HIV/AIDS ministry, prison ministry, womens' leadership training, interfaith dialogue, ...it goes on and on. I should get to visit several of these programs in the coming week.

They just seem to do everything right here - they intentionally recruit women students, since women in church leadership is especially rare in southeast Asia. They don't try to convert people when they live in the slums and rural areas, but instead encourage interfaith dialogue at the grassroots level. They use inclusive language. Even the campus is beautiful and full of trees, and they grow their own vegetables!

Those of you in Div school might be glad you don't go here, though...my first program this morning was the weekly chapel service, where each final year student takes a turn planning worship and preaching. After the service, the entire student body and faculty critique and grade you on your performance - there was about an hour of commentary, picking apart the sermon and order of service!

I also had a nice surprise this morning after assembly - a former student of the school where I taught in Sri Lanka is studying here. It wasn't a student I was especially close to, but we rememberd each other, and we had a nice visit this afternoon, reminiscing about Jaffna College and some of the class trips we both went on.

For my non-Div school friends, I'll add more soon about the non-theological portions of my trip!

On the road again

Every time I try to explain what I'm doing this summer, I don't seem to know where to begin. If someone (aka the Fund for Theological Education) offered to give you the funds to do any kind of project you wanted for a summer, what would you do? I decided to find a way to combine my love for Southeast Asia with my interest in economic justice. So, I'll be going back to India and Sri Lanka, and then to Namibia with a group from school, to learn from groups that are empowering minorities to overcome poverty.

On June 13 I depart for India, where I'll spend two weeks at Tamil Nadu Theological Seminary, which does great work with the Dalit community. I'll also be making short visits to an organization in Kanchipuram called RIDE, which helps child laborers get out of the silk sari weaving industry and transition into school, and to see Global Ministries missionary Thandiwe Gobledale, who serves at an orphanage near Vellore.

After that, I'll go to Kandy, Sri Lanka, for two weeks with Satayodaya, an interfaith group which does organizing and advocacy work with the tea estate workers (most of whom are part of the minority Indian Tamil community). I'll also have a little free time to catch up with some old friends, hopefully.

My last trip to Kandy, with Jaffna College students.

Then it's back to the U.S. for a few days to join a group from Vanderbilt Divinity School for our immersion trip to Namibia, where I hope to focus on (among other things) how the country has dealt with the end of apartheid. We'll be there for two weeks, talking with leaders from all segments of society (politics, business, religion, health care, ordinary people, etc...).

Once I get back to Nashville and unpack (literally and theologically), I hope there will be some new insights that can be applied to both the Vanderbilt living wage campaign and to the way the church understands the connections between racism and poverty. I'm sure I will have a whole new way of looking at these issues.

Intro

Vanakkam! Welcome! This blogging thing is new to me, but it seems like a good way to journal and stay connected to friends back home as I embark on a new adventure this summer that will take me through India, back to Sri Lanka, and on my first trip to Africa.

If you're wondering about the title of the blog, Nesam, this is a Tamil word for love that has the connotation of affection or compassion (at least that's how it was explained to me). I first heard the word in the name of a project that one of my heroes and mentors in Sri Lanka, Reverend T.S. Joshua, started called the Nesam Infant Programme. This project was led by the young women of Jennifer Girls Home, who would save rice and corn a handful at a time, out of their own meal supplies, and then prepare the collected handfuls of food and deliver it to hungry families in surrounding villages. These young women came to be my dear friends and sisters during the 2 years I lived across the lane from them, and my heart is filled with nesam when I think of the special relationship I was able to build with these girls so different from me. Nesam is able to break down the barriers that divide us, and I hope that on my travels this summer I am able to form new, meaningful relationships that I will carry back home to Nashville.