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!