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Published: February 28th 2010
I would just like to forewarn everyone reading this, this blog will deal with death in a matter-of-fact way since that is how it was presented to me the other day so if there is anyone squeamish about that then you may want to skip to the bottom, where things get a little more entertaining.
I have spent another great week at the school and old age home and English institute, this time with Sarah and Lucy which has made things a LOT more fun and entertaining but also a lot more bittersweet as I only have one more week left before I move north! We played Simon Says with the kids as well as What Time is it Mr. Wolf and could hear the kids screaming it at each other during recess while we took our chai break with the teachers, so they obviously thoroughly enjoyed themselves.
Thursday found us again at the B-Ghud institute where we talked about holidays, which made me look like a complete fool as I was trying to describe the way we celebrate Easter to a group of men in their 20s ("So, we in Canada believe that a giant rabbit hops around from house to house during the night, leaving little chocolate eggs all hidden all over the house which children have to find when they wake up in the morning...."). That being said, I will REALLY be missing Mini Eggs this coming Easter season! I'm going to see if I can find some in Mumbai or something...
Thursday afternoon we had a FANTASTIC lunch of thali (a giant pile of rice on a banana leaf, which then also gets filled with tons of different kinds of curries and doesn't stop getting replenished until you beg for mercy - one thing that continually surprises me here is the sheer volume of what I EAT! It's amazing!) and then John Sir, along with his driver Kevin, took the three of us on what was supposed to be an excursion to see the Hugging Mother's ashram. We obviously didn't end up there...
We stopped first to see this lake where migratory birds come from Africa to die. We got paddled around by this little old man while getting stared at by other little old men in dhotis, bathing themselves at the edge of the lake. It was a lovely little paddle, but what always strikes me here is how little real estate there is on the lakes! If this were Muskoka, there would be cottages all built up around it with big docks going out into it and plenty of watercraft on the lake so people could enjoy the water. I am still puzzled over why, exactly, Indians have such an aversion to leisure time when there is such an abundance of natural beauty for them to enjoy.
Then John tells us that his seretary's grandmother has passed away and so since he cannot attend the funeral he must make an appearance at the wake. So we climb back into his car and drive for another couple of hours (putting us at 5 p.m., and much too late to visit the ashram - maybe next time!) to this woman's house. Disclaimer: now things are about to get weird.
I have grown used, in my time here, to always expect the unexpected. So when I am pulled from the car to go pay my respects to a woman I have never met in a home I have never been to at the indirect invitation of a person I have met twice, I don't think much of it. Indians, however, do wakes a little differently than we Canadians (or the British, for that matter) do. Women and men enter the house separately and since I am a little more comfortable with this than Sarah and Lucy are I lead the way, ushered in by the deceased's grandson (brother of John's secretary, Sonia). The sound of crying is muted, there is a priest mumbling prayers, and lemongrass-scented incense and candles are burning in the dimly lit living room. The crowd of visitors parts and us foreigners are pushed to the front where we can get the best view of the see-through "mobile mortuary" where the body is displayed in a glass case for everyone to see. Since I have been to several funerals and have taken an entire course where I dissected a cadaver I wasn't too thrown by this but the British girls have never before seen a dead body and so they were quite shocked and didn't know where to look.
The part that shocked me was when the deceased woman's daughter (Sonia's mother) threw her arms around me, sobbing, and buried her coconut-scented head in my shoulder. Her grief was so real, so tangible, that it was difficult for me to maintain my composure. She quite literally latched onto me and hung on like a barnacle, and all I could do was stand there and try to rub her back and comfort her as best as I could. Things became even more surreal when the priest, who is actually the deceased woman's husband, catches sight of us and breaks into a huge grin at the foreigners who have come to his wife's funeral, and interrupts his prayers to ask us our names, where we are from, etc... So I am standing here with an inconsolable woman who has my arms pinned to my sides and a priest extending his hand in front of me for a shake, over the see-through coffin of his wife, all the while telling me about their marriage and pointing out their family photos on the wall.
Sonia managed to extricate me from her mother's grasp and bring me to the kitchen, where, true to Indian form, there is milky chai and plates of bananas waiting for us (I think everyone else was fasting but they wouldn't allow us to go hungry - very polite and thoughtful!). Other family members asked us questions and then Sonia's uncle, whose house it was, thanked us for coming. Lucy, who for the first time in her life has just seen a dead person, managed to keep her composure and in her lovely British accent, with a teacup balanced in her lap, said "Oh no, thank you so much, it was very.... informative", the words "lovely" and "great" not being quite appropriate for the occasion (she told us later she was just grateful the word "weird" didn't come out of her mouth because that was the only one in her head at that moment!).
We got back in the car, stunned, a little sombre, and not quite knowing what to think when we caught sight of a huge long line of women all dressed up in traditional Keralan sari, some carrying red umbrellas and some carrying banners, led by a schoolchildren's marching band. Figuring that this was another funny sight we wouldn't see again we hopped out of the car to snap some photos. One of the women called out to us that if we wanted to we could join in the parade and they would let us carry an umbrella. Carry a red umbrella in a parade for which we have no idea what it's about? Of COURSE we would! So all three of us grabbed umbrellas and the banner and marched up the street, leading the parade through the town and then off into a schoolyard. There were newspaper cameras as well as television news cameras videotaping us, and people seemed pretty pleased that three foreign girls turned up to support what was a parade for the COMMUNIST PARTY OF INDIA!
Yes, that's right. I led a parade of communists down the streets of rural India. Definitely a once-in-a-lifetime trip! John was watching from the sidelines where members of the opposing Congress Party were mumbling to themselves about why these foreigners were so supportive of Communism and trying to convince John to convince us to join their party instead...
So, after that eventful afternoon, there wasn't much left to do but drink a chocolate shake and go to bed early, which is exactly what we did! The last few days have been comparatively mellow and have allowed me to reflect a lot on what happened... Grace and Santha got a huge kick out of the story, especially the part about us joining a parade simply because we got to carry red umbrellas!
One more week as a Tiruvalla resident and a Kerala Link volunteer to come, and then I spend a weekend in Kochi before beginning a 10-day silent meditation... I will probably be glad of the break after all the insanity I've had lately!
As always, much love to everyone back home. I am still a very happy and lucky girl, enjoying the food and wishing everyone could be here to experience the hospitality and excitement as well as oddness that is this amazing country!
Shannon
xo
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Keep Smiling
Mike Fossey
Only in India...
Your tales bring a smile to my face, and remind me of what I'm missing!