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No matter how much I try I cannot disguise the fact that I am a planner. I attempt to plan every aspect of my life and often find that I spend too much time planning and not enough time living. That was one “Ericka-ism” I listed as needing to change as I planned for India. ;) Since being here, I am trying to embrace the “no plan just live” attitude. But the other day I felt compelled to look at a calendar and plan the next few months of my life. It was while doing so that I realized I have two and a half months left in India. Before I get too focused on where I am going and forgetful of where I have been, I will take a few moments to reflect on this awesome experience. We have done a lot in such a short amount of time.
Perhaps the biggest and most meaningful part of completing field abroad is the chance to develop real connections and memories with other social workers from UMB. The time spent traveling and navigating cultural norms forces each person to think more critically about what social work means to them and what areas of study are still needed in order to become professionally competent.
Constructing a social network and support system for ourselves has proven essential in allowing us to see India in a way that might otherwise have been closed off. Field work starts the moment we walk out of our guesthouse because we are constantly working to build relationships, dispel stereotypes about the US, and create meaningful memories with everyone we have contact with. The work specific to our concentrations/specializations all vary and only provide a small window into how we are all progressing as professionals.
As I look back over all of the pictures I can see that there is something truly different about me and it is more than just my hairdos. With time my smile is broader, my shoulders more relaxed, and I am just Ericka. They show me that I want to plan programs and business ventures not every aspect of my life. I am a mother-bear that wants to make sure everyone around me feels special. But the kicker is that the pictures also show me that yoga is working; I have lost a good portion of the gut I had been trying to suck in when I first got here. :)
Happy days from India!
Our Group
Jeremy-
Tall, playful, and very much the extrovert. Lets just say he keeps things interesting. He has a lot to say and sometimes (most times) if you pay attention to him, his expressions, and words you see that he is a bit mischievous but also very insightful. He enjoys meeting people and understanding their limits/boundaries. Although he tries to assert that he is not a "gentleman" he is very much a gentle man. I appreciate his presence and am ever grateful for his instictive brotherly ways.
Ingrid-
If silly was defined as vibrant, witty, and intelligent all mixed together with humor and thoughtfulness then my word to describe Ingrid would be silly. She is super smart and fun-loving but just plan silly. The way she sees the world and her experiences in the world thus far are all so very interesting. I enjoy having her around because there is always something very real there and she seems to make everyone more at ease with themselves.
Caitlin-
The girl has dimples for days and you cannot help but feel better when she is smiling or laughing. A very passionate and assertive spirit she brings energy to every situation. She is a very loyal and loving friend to those in her close circle and takes the time to build strong relationships; her face lights up when she speaks of home, her family, and her friends. An avid cook, traveler, and shopper she is full of surprises.
Sara-
Spunky, loving, and always up for a challenge she feels and loves deeply. She is very aware of what she wants to get out of her professional life. Her thirst for adventure and new experiences is great. It is fun to listen to her stories about adventures with family and friends because each one is full of the free-spirited yet deeply loving, and playful personality.
Jessica-
I often find myself wondering if I was as well put together mentally and emotionally at 23 as she is. She is fun, generous, and down right hilarious when she wants to be. Mixed with those things is a spunky no-mess attitude that makes her both straight-forward and real. Always ready for a biscuit break she helps me to process my thoughts.
I wonder if they see these things in themselves. Do they know their potential as social workers? Do they know how they each are helping to transform my views about life and the world? Such a cool group.
 Caitlin, Jessica, Ingrid, Jeremy, me, and Sara
Bus rides here provoke some of the most interesting thoughts for me. Maybe it is being crammed into a moving vehicle so tightly that forces my mind to wander...a woman has to do something to keep from screaming. Elbows, armpits, hair belonging to five other women are pressing against every touchable surface of my person and it is getting to a point where I feel faint, frustrated, and unsure if that last sigh was mine or the woman behind me. I need serenity NOW...
Today, I was on my way to Kunjattukara Creche with a ROSS worker and four BSW students to conduct a youth celebration program. Yesterday, August 15th, was India's Independence Day and to celebrate the teacher at this creche wanted a day of activities and fun for the youth in the area. On our way there we had to take two buses and an auto. It was on the first bus that I had my mental escape.
When using US standards of wealth and poverty, I am a broke graduate student. Back home I struggle to pay my bills month to month, eat PB&Js for lunch, and constantly count my dollars. But when I stop and consider where I am, right now, and how one US dollar is equivalent to 40-42 rupees I know that there are others in the world far less fortunate. My poverty is by choice because the hope is that after I graduate I can provide a better life for myself and support those I care about. With the value our society places on our profession and the work we do I might have to work two or three jobs in order to do that. But with hard work I can live the life of my dreams. That mentality or way of looking at life circumstances has not really reached the India I have seen thus far in my trip.
Social work in India is very grassroots. It is all about trying to empower people within their communities and neighborhoods. There are so many immediate issues that grassroots movements are clearly needed but I cannot help but wonder has anyone taken the time to think beyond the current crisis. What happens when things stabilize? Is there a plan to keep the community moving forward and progressing? Are the people being served really connecting with the idea that they have the power to mobilize and change things? What can I do to help things improve for the communities I serve? My first thoughts are always program planning and youth development because that is where I heart and interests are but for the agency and communities it is teaching communicative English to youth. My thoughts then went to the fact that perhaps America has moved too far away from grassroots efforts. We still have people disconnected from services and disenfranchised by systems. How can I merge these realities into my practice back home? Is going door to door too outdated in our culture? Would people turn me away and ask that I send them an email? If someone came into my office seeking services I do not provide would I stop what I was doing to take their information so that I could seek out the help they need?
I wondered about all these things as my mind tried to keep me distracted from the wetness of a elderly woman's headwrap that had brown droppings on it...so trying not to freak out at that point. I forced my gaze out the window only to see a family of four (a husband, wife, and two small children) cruising along on a motorcycle. I cannot even fit my life into my four door Corolla, how can they fit their family on that bike?...
 Different family on a different day but you get the idea.
Jessica's birthday was this past Monday...HAPPY B-DAY Biscuit!...and to celebrate and rejuvenate our spirits the 6 of us packed ourselves up and boarded a train headed south. Our destination was simple, Kovalam Beach and then Kanyakumari. Thank goodness for birthdays and good planning.
We arrived safely in Trivandrum, the southern most district in Kerala, and was picked up by Ani ('A for apple, N for naughty, and I for idiot'...his words not mine) the manager of Silver Star Hotel. Kerala is currently in the middle of monsoon season which is the off-season for most beaches in the area and some businesses are more than willing to accommodate the needs of students on a budget. Silver Star was a nice hotel because it was not on the beach but close enough that you did not feel like you were missing the beach experience.
The German Bakery...yum! Most of us in the group have been missing our crazy American diets which include pancakes or french toast at some point for breakfast and a meal with french fries or some other potato creation. The bakery is propped in front of the beach so that you can enjoy your choice of an English, French, German, or American style breakfast while watching the waves. If you are facing the water the red and white lighthouse is to your left and nothing but water and rocks to your right. We ate most of our meals at the German Bakery but did venture to other places to get the full experience of Kovalam cuisine.
The "fruit ladies". My mom has tried to infuse the New Yorker mentality regarding strangers in me but since my days in NY it has gradually left me. It is now to the point that I cannot help but smile and say hello to someone who approaches and does not seem threatening. How could I not say hello to a woman balancing a fruit basket filled with mangos, bananas, and pineapples on her head with arms extended towards me as if we were old friends? The New Yorker in me (the little Ericka on my shoulder) said look beyond her and keep it moving but the hippie in me said to smile and greet. This skinny woman with her basket and broken English had the grip of a gentle sumo wrestler. "Hello! Hello!! How are you? What is your name?...aw yes, would you like mango or banana, Ericka?" (Mom is somewhere back home shaking her head and saying to herself when will this girl learn.) Suda, the fruit lady, would not let go of my arm as we walked until Caitlin and Jessica took our picture and until I promised to buy a banana from her later...I meant later in the trip was not sure if she meant that day. There were quite a few ladies on that beach selling fruit and for the rest of the time I did my best to avoid eye contact. Our last day on the beach we sat and soaked up the sun until it was time to load ourselves in the car. There were ladies selling fruit all around us; baskets full of fruit just dancing along the beach. "Hello! Friend. Hello!" Suda had found me. I bought two bananas...but more importantly I kept my promise.
Forging a bond. I like our group, we are learning a lot about ourselves as individuals but also getting to learn a lot about each other and our visions for our futures. We are the perfect mix of humor, intelligence, spunk, curiosity, independence, and temperance. My earlier descriptions for each member was superficial at best. I am still processing my newfound understanding of each of them but what I can gather at this point is that they are perfect reflections of their families, experiences, and dreams. Each with her/his unique perspectives and ideas but all with a profound love and commitment to the people in their lives.
Kanyakumari. The southern most tip of India is in the state of Tamilnadu, Kerala's neighbor to the east. We took a day trip to Kanyakumari because it is where the Arabian Sea, Bay of Bengal, and Indian Ocean meet. On our way there we stopped at a couple of historical sites before settling on the beach at sunset to watch the sun disappear behind the three bodies of water. We were at the southern most tip of India and had our feet in the Arabian Sea, Bay of Bengal, and Indian Ocean how cool is that?
Mountains. Ani took us to a rescue reserve park that had the backdrop of mountains...I thought nothing of that as we walked along the trail. He showed us some deer and peacocks and then asked if we would like to see a cave. We proceeded up a trail with huge steps that led to another winding trail. My intention was to keep my eyes on the person in front of me and take it one step at a time but like always the urge to see my surroundings overruled and I looked up. I was 1/3 of the way up the side of a mountain and my nerves, equilibrium, and everything in between started to panic. I ushered my group on and sat beside a boulder that blocked the view down which gave me comfort as well as allowed me to see a great portion of the area in front of me...it was beautiful. I looked up to see my peers reaching the top of the mountain and realized my reaction to stop at that particular moment was best. Jeremy and Ani are two strong men but I doubt either could walk down the side of a mountain with a 5'9" woman wrapped around their neck. If we go back, next time I will try to go a bit higher.
The Mahatma Gandhi Memorial was beautiful and even though the guard was a bit intense (to put it mildly) he conveyed the message of the memorial very well. The building was designed to reflect the three religions Gandhi worked to unify in India: Hinduism, Islam, and Catholicism. Beautifully perched in Kanyakumari the memorial houses a portion of Gandhi's remains. In the ceiling directly above the remains there is a hole that allows a beam of sunlight to shine on his memory.
This mini holiday was the right thing at the right time. I think we all needed time away from being the international students in Kalamassery and needed to spend time getting to know one another. We needed to see some of the history of the country; we were standing in temples that are 4,000 years old. We also needed to realize that where there are people there are social issues and that relaxation/luxury for one is livelihood for another.
At my present age I would be married and possibly carrying my second child if I were a woman raised in Kerala culture and tradition. I would have been married by the age of 24 to someone pre-selected by my parents. They would have found him through a marriage broker and both families would have completed some type of background check to confirm that both he and I were suitable (respectable enough) for the marriage. From my parents’ house to my husband’s house would not seem like such an absurd concept to me if I were a woman raised here. My twenties would not be about independence, self-sufficiency, or personal discovery. The constant ‘tug of war’ I play with myself might not exist. I am constantly yanked between two clear perceptions about my life: a) I am 28 and should be thinking about settling down and starting a family b) I am 28 and have so much more I need to accomplish before I can freely set my wants on hold to nurture and develop someone else’s. I am sure that there is a way to accomplish both but I just do not know if I am skilled enough to master that tight rope yet.
Living here I would not have these questions or this constant struggle. I know that I would have other personal challenges but my twenties (late twenties) would look so much different. The women that I meet within my age range (either a year my senior or junior) seem so much older than I am. Marriage and parenthood ages people, I know this, but still I cannot help but wonder do I seem selfish to them. Do they think I am wasting my life? As of 2000, the life expectancy rate for men in India is 64 and 65 for women. The life expectancy for people living in the state of Kerala is in the early 70s. Knowing this helps me understand the urgency for needing to start families but it does not make it any easier to accept. Midlife crisis takes on a whole new meaning when you consider 4-8 years from now I would be going through one.
Then there is the issue of love. Can love be preplanned by others who know you well but do not know you best? Were the fairytales of my childhood too vividly portrayed painting love and happily ever after (marriage) as these magical adventures? Can two people learn to love each other even if they are not mentally, spiritually, or physically attracted to each other? What is the recipe (always bringing it back to food) for a good marriage if love is not a main ingredient? Could a headstrong female accept a subservient status within her marriage and family life? Are these the women committing suicide that I have heard random stories about since my arrival? I do not know.
What I do know is that I am definitely learning a lot about cultural diversity and myself. I am learning that even if something does not work or hold value in my life does not take away from the value and worth in someone else’s life. I am recognizing in myself a desire to be both a wife and a mother which I did not truly believe existed in me. But perhaps more importantly is that I am learning acceptance of time and space; I am happy with who and what I am in the lives of those I love right now. If I am meant to be both a wife and a mother those roles will find me…my disclaimer is that I am learning this way of thinking not that I have mastered it.
Until next time, happy days from India!
My bonding time with Aunt Sicily and Uncle Sebastian comes in the form of cooking. There are very few barriers that cannot be broken through by cooking including language. There is something about watching a person who loves cooking share their joy with me that brings a smile to my face. The finer details of who they are cannot be revealed in regular small talk but unfold over time as they cook. It is in the way she/he holds a knife, organizes a spice rack, or selects produce that teaches me about the level of love and patience she/he has for her/his loved ones. Sicily and Sebastian are a delightful team working side by side as my Kerala cooking instructors. Both appear impressed by my level of interest and excitement at learning; I must admit I, too, am impressed with myself. I have always loved cooking, watching people cook, and assisting in the kitchen but I never really noticed or paid attention to how much I have actually picked up over the years. When Sicily reaches for something and begins searching for the words to describe what she is doing I already have an idea of what she is going to say and do. When she or Sebastian presents me with fresh seasonings I can either identify it at first glance or after a quick inhalation. The complexity of the dishes is centered on patience because each dish requires that you build up the flavor. They taught me how to make chicken Masala, chili chicken, vegetable biryani, and are eager to teach me more. They have reaffirmed for me that there is still joy in cooking. There is still joy in prepping and cooking for hours to serve a meal that will last a half hour.
I am homesick because I want to be in the kitchen with my mom as she makes her lasagna or baked macaroni with baked chicken and collard greens or her okra soup. I want to watch her tell me that she loves my dad by the way she cooks each dish to suit his taste and that she loves me and my sister because she pre-stocks her kitchen with all the ingredients to prepare one or more of our childhood favorites. But this is not the homesick that makes a person want to curl up and cry. It is more like a curiosity to learn and explore the many faces, gestures, and rhythms of love that are passed from generation to generation. I was taught that love is a dab of this, a smidge of that, a pound of this, and an ounce of that but most importantly it is an act of patience, care, and selfless giving.
Being here my loves have become more apparent. I really do relish in the simplicities of life. For the ten years I have been labeled an adult by society (I'm still just a big kid at heart) I thought I was supposed to be complicated, troubled, and somehow mysterious. India has helped me to realize that simplicity, in its own way, is both complex and rare. Now how to apply that realization to my personal and professional life back home is the next piece to the puzzle that is me...in India...for another 3.5 months.
Dr. Caroline Long Burry, our International Field Coordinator for UMB/SSW, has been visiting the Rajagiri campus, meeting the staff and faculty, and attending cultural outings and events with the UMB6 group and our friends. She has had the opportunity to meet with our field supervisors, learn more about our field work, spend time with our host family, and learn more about each of us.
Some of the highlights of the week:
1. Indo-American cultural exchange program. BSW and MSW students performed for us and we introduced ourselves, shared about our families, and then performed the "Electric Slide" (okay, Sara, Jessica, Caitlin, Ingrid, and Jeremy performed and I introduced).
2. Katahkali Dance. It is a traditional dance of Kerala performed by men who have very intricate make-up and intense facial movements/expressions. The plot- A female demon falls in love with a prince and goes to him in her human form. The prince falls in love and agrees to marry her but wants to inform his family and get their blessing. The demon, impatient, tries to tempt the prince but he refuses. She tries again and he cuts off her nose, an ear, and a breast. Moral of the story is never aggravate a man...never aggravate a man with a sword...never aggravate a man with a sword even if he says he loves you.
3. Overnight houseboat trip through the backwaters. A lovely excursion with plenty of vivid colors, tasty meals, and fun. I can usually think of ten things I would rather be doing than sailing along any body of water for hours but nothing could possibly compare to this experience.
4. Dinners with the family. Dr. Burry brought us black beans and flour tortillas from the US (requested by Caitlin, good job Cait!) In our usual team fashion we prepared black beans and rice (head chef- Caitlin), Salsa (head chef- Jeremy), chicken (head chef- me; sous chefs- Jessica and Andy), fruit salad (head chef- Sicily), with Sebastian as kitchen manager and Ingrid, Sara, Shashi, and Ashika as rotating sous chefs. It was great! Best meal we have prepared together.
The next night Sicily taught me how to make Chicken Masala, vegetable biryani...this family is so awesome. Sicily started things off, Neethu translated, and Sebastian came in to assist with the prep. While I am here Aunt Sicily plans on teaching me several dishes...I cannot wait!
5. Sweet bread, jam, and chai. When a new visitor comes to Rajagiri the breakfast includes sweet white bread and jam in case she/he does not like the breakfast chutney, etc. I love lunch and dinner Kerala style but prefer bread and jam for breakfast. It is simple, familiar, and easy on the stomach...we have had it every morning since Dr. Burry's arrival. A little bread and jam with a cup of chai goes a long way- yum!
In other news...
This upcoming week our US roomies and friends Ashika, Shashi, and Andy will be leaving us. We have shared some laughs, jokes that caused the laughter, good food, not so good food, and more. I will miss having them around and hope that we will have a India reunion when we are all back in the states.
Questions of religion have challenged me ever since I was a young girl. For me religion is a title, a name by which people identify themselves or others. It is a set a rules, traditions, and perceptions dictated by those who have written down the teachings of great figures and spiritual persons. “Overly religious” people or those too caught up in names to really know god have always terrified me. Faithful people, those who can see god in all men, women, and children regardless of the name by which they call him have always inspired me. These people, with the clarity of thought to know that god made us different with different needs and varying wants but made us and therefore claims all of us, have always given me hope. Sometimes it is hard to recognize the faithful because they either refuse organized religion or are deeply associated with one. But if you listen, truly listen, to their heart and pay attention to their actions you will know them as faithful.
It has always confused me when people try to tell me that you have to claim affiliation with a religion and a building in order to know god. If he created me, orchestrated my life and my journey, then how can he not already know me? And if it is about me knowing him then would choosing one religion and one house not be the equivalent of taking one class in school and proclaiming mastery of that topic? For me, god cannot be found in only one text, one style of praying, or one house. Like professional education, religion is costly. I cannot afford to pay for membership to all in order to know god as I want to…have you ever heard of the poor man’s copyright? I have the poor woman’s religion. It is simple and does not cost more than you are capable of paying. Are you ready for it? It is called an open mind and open heart combined with the ability to reason and question. You study people, how they act in good times but more importantly in bad times. You go to the library and read all the books of worship available (and if the library only has one religion’s text you question). And when you need to be reminded that god is in all of us you visit a friend’s or relative’s house of worship. I have found god in people of varying religious commitment and of different religions. They have taught me compassion, cooperation, humility, patience, faith, and love. Most of are in my family and friends circle, others were instructors or peers at different stages of my schooling, and the rest were those rarities in history and or current events.
Rajagiri College of Social Science is a catholic school. You might have a class where your instructor is a priest or in one where a few of your peers are priests or nuns. These men and women clearly wear the cloak of religion but in them I have also found faithfulness. They do not talk about their religion as something they are forcing someone to join or using to denounce someone else’s. They speak of active participation in life, working for a better world, and diligent cooperation which to me are words of faithfulness. Since starting my field work I have been out to many different locations most of which are catholic parishes. The majority of the visits with the priests and nuns have been pleasant and inspiring. But there was one that has been weighing on my heart (and the inspiration for this long blog). Keep in mind I have been questioned about my religion but not my faith ever since I started field. Are you catholic? Are you Muslim? Do you go to church or mosque? This particular priest, while I was accompanying an outreach worker, asked if I was lazy when I told him I do not belong to a house of worship. Lazy, really? I always thought it lazy to accept religion without questions or the use of one’s own faculties. Religion is a guide by which you follow to help you get closer to god and just like Mapquest sometimes the information is not always accurate. How many missed opportunities must one take before they begin to question? A question cannot diminish faith. And when people refer to blind faith are they or are they not acknowledging that they have failed to look at the world around them…is god not everywhere?
I cheer for those who use religion wisely and worry for those who have allowed it to lead them astray. The next time I am asked if I am a Christian (that is usually the first choice) this is what I will say: “Yes, yes I am a Christian but I am a Muslim too. I am wherever god is and my guides are those willing to teach me his truths. When I say my prayers I am Muslim. When I sing songs of worship I am a Christian. When I practice forgiveness I am both and when I relinquish judgment too. When I do acts of kindness without expectation of reciprocity my blessings are counted and I need not wonder in which book they are recorded. So yes, yes I am a Christian and a Muslim for that matter a Jew too. I am wherever god wants me and wherever his light shines through.”…okay I will not say all that but I will be thinking it as I shutter at the ignorance of someone entrusted with god’s message of faith and faithfulness.
Happy days from India!
When we first arrived in Kerala the gender rules were obvious but unspoken, men enter either the front or the back of the bus, women only enter from the front, and men sit/stand in the back and women in the front. Why would a culture need such a rule?
Yesterday, July 7th, I was on the bus with Thankam (my field guide/escort) going to a site location when there was a father standing to my right and his preadolescent daughter standing on my left. Keep in mind that the buses here are always jammed pack, there are no personal space boundaries, and every driver is preparing for NASCAR. The man (trying to use kind words) found a way to keep his arm/elbow in constant contact with my chest. Whatever shift I could manage there was definite contact with my body and his. Was I being paranoid or was this man violating me? At one point there was enough space to shift myself completely away from his perverted elbow but I could not help but feel like I should have said something. But what would I have said? Who would have been thrown off the bus, him or me? Does this sort of thing happen all the time? Is this why there is usually such a clear divide and why women claw their way on the bus to get a standing space up front? I do not know.
Today, July 8th, I was definitely violated, so was Thankam, and by the same pervert. We got on the bus heading back towards Aluva from Ernakulam. We started out both standing but a seat opened up and she took it. A man who must have been standing behind her shifted forward, I assumed it was to get a better space and footing. As the ride progressed I noticed that I was becoming too familiar with this man’s anatomy. I was definitely not being paranoid this time. Again I tried to shift but with even less luck than the day before. Could he not know that he is violating me? This is ridiculous! I shifted and this time was able to place my book bag between my body and his. Disgusted, I brainstormed what could I possibly do to stand up for myself. While brainstorming I looked down at Thankam and her face was showing an expression I had not seen before, she looks uneasy in her chair, and then I noticed… This man, this piece of a piece of man was violating her too. Without shame or hesitation his anatomy got acquainted with her back/side the way it had with my thigh/hip region. Fully clothed so who would know it? The buses are just that crowded. At one point to shield both of us, I shifted my bag and Thankam held it in place. As a few spaces opened up the man moved and Thankam looked up at me and said, “Nasty man.” All I could do was nod. I had hoped that maybe I was delusional and that she and I had not shared a moment of violation but clearly we had. A few stops later we got off and she motioned me towards school while she headed off in a different direction…I wonder will she bring it up tomorrow?
In my Rural and Urban Development class we are talking about the UN Millennium Development Goals established in 2000. The target date for reaching all 8 objectives is 2015. The third goal out of the eight is gender equality. India and other developing nations are trying to level the playing field for women. But in cultures and societies where women are not used to speaking up for themselves, can their ever be equality if the solution to safety is that women are herded to the front and men to the back? Where are the programs and services on gender sensitivity, sexual harassment, and self-control? I do not think I can change the bus norms here but maybe I will try to arrange a group of female and male students and find out what their experiences have been...will keep you posted.
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Ericka
Concentration: MACO/Clinical
Specialization: Families and Children
Undergraduate School: Temple University
From: New York, NY
Interests: Writing, poetry, movies, and cooking.
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