Email: John Stanger

Hello Friends,

North India

Much has happened since you last heard from me in March. Of course April consisted of our much anticipated All India Tour, which turned out to be quite an adventure. It would take up far too much of this newsletter to say everything that happened on our 28-day romp through the subcontinent, so I will limit myself to one over-arching observation: the general Indian-ness of India. That probably doesn't sound anything less than expected to most of you, but the realization of India as a nation is only about 60 years old. Before colonization what today is India, Pakistan, and Bangladesh was then hundreds of smaller kingdoms ruled by maharajas.

I had heard that visiting other Indian states would feel like a trip through many countries because of the unique cultures that are created from this kind of micro-kingdom history. While that was certainly true to some extent—most states have their own language, style of dress, decorum, cuisine, economic development, etc.—I  always felt like I was in India, although certainly not Kerala. It’s phenomenal to me that a sixth of the world’s population fits within this concept of “India.” Indians use the phrase “unity in diversity” to describe their common thread. 

New perspectives

Another result of leaving the south after seven months to experience other regions of India was the effect on my perspective of Kerala. Being able now to place Kerala within its national identity has helped me to understand better my own "home" state in India. I am able to see how Malayalees do things differently and appreciate much of that uniqueness. Kerala has an impressive level of economic development compared to the rest of India and has maintained its very strong traditional culture. Not to glorify Kerala's current economic state (because it certainly has left many behind) but it's heartening to see a government resist selling its soul to Western culture for the sake of money. And as breathtaking as the Himalayas were, I still feel like Kerala's natural beauty is their equal. 

While traveling I was surprised to find that I was more homesick than I've been since last August. I'm sure that the general stress of living out of a suitcase for a month while scrambling to experience as much possible within a short time frame contributed. But on the whole the trip's stress level is not to blame as much as being away from my Kerala “family.” It took leaving to see just how much I've come to rely on people here and how much I have been supported by friends in Kerala since my arrival last September. Not until missing them did I realize the degree to which they eased the pain of missing my American friends and family. I never expected to feel such a difference in connectedness between traveling and simply living. On the whole, I'm thankful for the homesickness I felt while traveling because it gave me the spiritual boost I needed to delve deeply into my last three months.

May

Since arriving back at CMS College in the beginning of May, my schedule has been pretty erratic. After spending a few days with my friends at the hostel, I went to Ariel's site for a week to help lead an arts and crafts camp for elementary aged children from the village near her hostel. I was also able to attend the wedding of a friend of hers; it was a Hindu ceremony, which I badly wanted to experience. Of course, I understood very little, but I appreciated the opportunity and even made some new friends while there. Although it was the summer holiday, I spent the last couple weeks teaching special spoken English at two high schools, one of which was new for me. Because of the shear amount of classes I was teaching (almost every day), I finally found a kind of teaching "groove" and enjoyed the classes. Usually I prefer building relationships with students casually, but I was able to find a style that helped facilitate a balance between the structure of the classroom and simply getting to know the students. It only took nine months! Maybe that was yet another of God's lessons in patience. India has provided quite a few of those.

Limitations

For months I have been making broad hints (which frankly grew into flat-out asking) to a friend that I'd like to see his home and meet his family. I'm constantly asked to visit the homes of acquaintances, and of all my friends in Kerala, I am probably closest to him, so it didn’t feel inappropriate or awkward to ask to visit. I even remember saying something along the lines of, "How could I live with myself if I went back to the States without visiting your home!?" Friends visit friends' homes; it's a global rule. He's not the most organized person, so for a while I thought he just kept forgetting to ask his parents. I never suspected anything more.

Recently we were walking back from having tea together and he confessed that he'd been trying for weeks to work up the nerve to tell me I'm not going to be able to visit. It was clearly painful for him to tell me his mother isn't comfortable with me coming because of who I am: a white American. The idea of accommodating and pleasing someone she imagines to be a high-maintenance Westerner is overwhelming to her. He explained that he's been asking his father to convince her for months to let me come, but it hasn't worked. He felt horrible for disappointing me, while I felt guilty for unknowingly causing his family stress. I explained that I understood his mother's image of me and he explained that he'd tried to dismantle it by telling her how I live in Kerala.

We moved on, and our friendship remains strong though we haven't talked about the situation since. Although the situation hurt, I don’t blame his family for what is essentially the reality of cross-cultural relations: we all have prejudices/images of each other which aren't fair to either party. However, I came to India prepared to tear down cross-cultural barriers for the sake of seeing everyone as human, appreciating our similarities, and forging new ground. But it's not all up to me, is it? India has her say-so as well. While I have definitely broken down barriers and forged relationships with people that probably never thought they’d have an American friend, it's now time to accept the limitations of my identity.

As much as I'd love to morph into a Malayali for my last two months in Kerala, I am a white American. I so badly want to simply fit into the crowd here, yet the life I was given by God and the identity I was born into are what make my encounters here exponentially more rewarding than if I did blend in with my friends. That's so much more difficult to accept than I ever anticipated. I can work to change stereotypes, but I can't force anyone to look past my heritage. Since people here really understand me within the context of my “other-ness,” I have to be OK with accepting myself as the “other.” I feel maybe I've reached a more honest understanding of cross-cultural experiences and their limitations. It was just painful getting here.

Now

I'm entering into the last two months of my life in India, which has brought up all kinds of emotions that can be best summarized as bittersweet. CMS will begin the new academic year tomorrow, so I'll be able to reconnect with students that I haven't seen since March. I'll also resume my old schedule for teaching my primary and secondary school students spoken English. I'm adding the new school to my schedule, which I really like, so I'm looking forward to that. My visits to the boys' home in Kanam will also be happening again now that they're back in school. Other than that, I'll be packing in as many house visits and accepting all the opportunities I can before leaving. As always, I appreciate your prayers as I work through what it means to be a ministry of presence.

Love,

John Stanger