09-02-2012 My Kerala bubble
Now that I’m leaving, I’m starting to distance myself from here and the world is opening up. Only now it’s becoming clear that I’ve been in bubble for some months. I’ve been away from ‘normality’ creating my own sense of ‘normality’ in India. I’ve had to… otherwise every single thing I see, smell, taste and think, as a result of where I am, would make me drive myself mental… (I won’t blame the place for going insane, because insanity is always created by the own mind, regardless of where a person is). Without having placed myself in a subconscious bubble, I’d be analyzing the people, their mannerisms and I’d be continuously annoyed by their bad habits and angry for the filth and grime they’ve accumulated here on this piece of the planet they claim to love so dearly, this piece that’s so luscious and rich but so spoilt by the people who ‘own’ it. I’d wreck my brain knowing this truth and it would wreck my head even more by simultaneously seeing the love in the eyes of every single person, if I’d be so willing to return every gaze that is thrown my way in every single moment whilst being out in the chaos of this ‘tiny’ village. I’ve not been willing to gaze back or to continuously smile or to forever say ‘hello’ to all the friendly people. Without my bubble I’d be wanting to know their thoughts, their reasons for judging me and staring. I’d be wrecking my head trying to make sense of what’s normal, of what’s fair, of what’s right and wrong. I’d wreck my head wondering if I’m approaching India in the right manner, if I’m learning enough from this experience, if I’m savouring it, appreciating it and not rejecting the goodness it’s offering me. I’d be continuously wondering if I’m giving enough smiles and if I’m refraining sufficiently from judging and criticising them and the bubble I feel THEY live in. So I placed myself in MY own bubble; the location of the bubble is Kerala. But what’s inside the bubble is my own world.
That bubble isn’t going to pop, now that I’m leaving. Nope, it’s going to change its location and its size. Usually it only takes a pin to ‘pop’ the bubble. But there’s no pin! My bubble in Kerala will expand. It will become bigger and bigger… The world is becoming bigger and what I’ve created here in my Kerala bubble will go with me as I move onwards and find the courage to take action.
So I’ve come to a point where I need to use my courage and strength to let what I’ve been creating inside, arise. The time has come to ACT. This is the inevitable flow of life, but the torture I’ve been making myself endure can also mean it’s the hardest part: to let life flow… to let the life inside flow to the surface. To be real, to be me… even if it means facing fears that were suppressed.
Time ticks, one day roles into the next and plans need to be made. A person needs to be somewhere in this world… and where to go, what to choose? Who to listen to?
For the past week, I’ve been sitting in the internet café almost daily. After school, I’d walk along the road in the scorching sun, making my way there. I’d greet the lady behind the counter who has been working there for the past 2 years and who remembered me from my last visit. I’d sit there for one or two hours in a little cubicle trying desperately to plan my life. I’d be checking buses, flights, jobs (in between writing and reading emails). I’ve had many different experiences in that cubicle, by the way; I’ve sat there in tears, when I heard of the book getting published, I’ve sat there in anger when the power would fail, I’ve sat there with nerves when I first spoke on skype with the publisher, I’ve sat there in fear when a cockroach had set up home on the wall, and for the past 2 days I’ve sat there with building desperation for knowing in what direction I must head but not having the guts to actually DO IT!
It was quite frustrating, because when I’ve been away from the internet, I’d know exactly what I’d want and where I should be going. But then once I get online… LOST! The world is too big, the options are too many… And I know it’s because the mind is tempted to go in 100 different ways (preferably all at once).
On a few instances over the past days, I’ve let my feelings guide me through cyber space. Then I know it’s the right thing. So, I’ve been sitting there in that stinking hot cubicle, with everything right there in front of me on the screen: the tickets, the connecting times, the different legs of the journey, everything fitting so perfectly. BUT STILL I’VE BEEN AT A LOSS! So I’d be waiting for a sign. I’d be waiting for somebody to tell me it’s okay to book this route (I’ve actually wanted somebody to BOOK IT FOR ME). When you’re travelling alone, there’s nobody else to turn to… only towards YOU… it sounds so simple (and 99.9% of the time it is) but I can tell you, that for 0.1% of the time, it can be the hardest thing to do. This realization – of it ONLY BEING ME - wasn’t enough to stop me from wishing for advice from outside of myself and to be hoping for somebody to maybe only listen to my rambles, just as a sounding board…
However, as I said, time ticks and one day roles into the next… and suddenly yesterday (the 8th) was the day to ACT. I knew I couldn’t procrastinate any longer. 2 days in a row, the signs actually did come whilst I was on the net wishing for them: on day 1 it was a call on my mobile from my mother; which only happens when it’s urgent. And her urgency was to ask me what my plans were. On day 2 it was an email that came through, whilst I was online… from the publisher, regarding the contract, the book cover and my plans. So… did I act? Yes I did… It’s going to start happening, in the next 3 days… from the 12th onwards…
Showing posts with label Kerala. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kerala. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
08-02-2012 ...To find the courage
The past 2 weeks or so, teaching has been painful at times. This is because I simply can’t do my best. My energy is going into something else. How can I be satisfied with what I’m doing, if I know the job isn’t giving me the chance to excel as a person? Because I feel there’s so much more life inside of me… and teaching isn’t giving me the outlet. Man oh man, even the past few days I’ve actually been having an aching heart, dizzy spells and I’ve been drained. It’s very strange. This work doesn’t feel as real anymore and I honestly feel as though I’m waiting to finally start doing the proper work; which is work that will serve others as well as myself.
My writing moments force me into another world where I hope to find answers, to find clarity, to find strength… Sometimes I think I’ve found it: I think I’ve found the courage to follow through and take the risk and stand up and just to be REAL and to be MY SELF. Sometimes I think I’m doing it: I’m standing strong and being myself by simply speaking my truth and not pretending. Sometimes I think I’m faking it; I’m not really writing (because there is no book I can touch) and I’m not really teaching (because there are no lessons that are properly being taught), I’m not really traveling (because I’m stationed in the one spot).
Do the feelings I’ve been having towards school mean I no longer want to teach? No they don’t. They just mean that, AT THE MOMENT, I can’t teach properly. And being the witness of this is hurting me. Yes, that’s it. I want to sit and write a book, and I’m hurting for not being able to AND I’m hurting because the teaching is suffering as a result. But of course, I love my students, I love it when I’m fully focussed, I love it when I’m in a school environment… I love so many things about teaching… but the love for something else is growing stronger.
How bad can this all be? Really it’s not. I accept this experience and I need it. I need to go through this present period of transition, this shift. Because going through this change, whilst being here in India, only means the work will happen faster and with no effort at all… It will happen so soon; it will become real once I’m lifted onwards to the next place. So I’m grateful for it all. I don’t wish for my Indian time to end, I don’t wish to say goodbye to the kids and the school. It will happen either way. This change has got nothing to do with India. It just so happens that I’m going through it in one of the places I love so much. The change, instead, has got everything to do with me and writing; it’s not about location.
In regards to the job; the circumstances right now aren’t permitting me to continue teaching, which probably is a blessing (if this aching heart is anything to go by). The visa relieves me from this job and the publisher pulls me towards a new one. The publisher is coaxing me to be what I need to be. So what’s the problem, you’ll be asking yourself. It’s my fear of my geographical location being a reflection of the person I am. How can I forever be the traveler, if I permit myself to sit and write?! Am I traveling now though? Isn’t traveling the same as moving? I’m not physically traveling anywhere, I’m not moving… I’m creating my own world, is one of the most tropical places in India! So that raises the question: what is traveling anyway? Living in a country that’s not your own – whether you’re on the road or have set up a home? Or is it ONLY physically moving from one place to the next, which could just as easily be done in your native country? That’s something for I could ponder for hours…
Anyway, my fear has always been that Ireland would stop me from traveling and I’d become imprisoned. And now, my book (either the first or the second) is slowly pulling me home, and I’m giving way to it. I want it to. But at the same time, I’m terrified.
Right now, I have to trust in the uncertainty of life. I can’t make concrete plans, I can’t promise people I’ll be here, there or yonder. I can’t promise myself I’ll be here, there or yonder. All I can do is make a promise to myself that I won’t ignore what I know I must do. I won’t let my fears stop me. They will try, of course. It’s normal. But life is too short for them to hold me back and this is the only time to live and to make a difference in our own lives as well as the lives of others.
My writing moments force me into another world where I hope to find answers, to find clarity, to find strength… Sometimes I think I’ve found it: I think I’ve found the courage to follow through and take the risk and stand up and just to be REAL and to be MY SELF. Sometimes I think I’m doing it: I’m standing strong and being myself by simply speaking my truth and not pretending. Sometimes I think I’m faking it; I’m not really writing (because there is no book I can touch) and I’m not really teaching (because there are no lessons that are properly being taught), I’m not really traveling (because I’m stationed in the one spot).
Do the feelings I’ve been having towards school mean I no longer want to teach? No they don’t. They just mean that, AT THE MOMENT, I can’t teach properly. And being the witness of this is hurting me. Yes, that’s it. I want to sit and write a book, and I’m hurting for not being able to AND I’m hurting because the teaching is suffering as a result. But of course, I love my students, I love it when I’m fully focussed, I love it when I’m in a school environment… I love so many things about teaching… but the love for something else is growing stronger.
How bad can this all be? Really it’s not. I accept this experience and I need it. I need to go through this present period of transition, this shift. Because going through this change, whilst being here in India, only means the work will happen faster and with no effort at all… It will happen so soon; it will become real once I’m lifted onwards to the next place. So I’m grateful for it all. I don’t wish for my Indian time to end, I don’t wish to say goodbye to the kids and the school. It will happen either way. This change has got nothing to do with India. It just so happens that I’m going through it in one of the places I love so much. The change, instead, has got everything to do with me and writing; it’s not about location.
In regards to the job; the circumstances right now aren’t permitting me to continue teaching, which probably is a blessing (if this aching heart is anything to go by). The visa relieves me from this job and the publisher pulls me towards a new one. The publisher is coaxing me to be what I need to be. So what’s the problem, you’ll be asking yourself. It’s my fear of my geographical location being a reflection of the person I am. How can I forever be the traveler, if I permit myself to sit and write?! Am I traveling now though? Isn’t traveling the same as moving? I’m not physically traveling anywhere, I’m not moving… I’m creating my own world, is one of the most tropical places in India! So that raises the question: what is traveling anyway? Living in a country that’s not your own – whether you’re on the road or have set up a home? Or is it ONLY physically moving from one place to the next, which could just as easily be done in your native country? That’s something for I could ponder for hours…
Anyway, my fear has always been that Ireland would stop me from traveling and I’d become imprisoned. And now, my book (either the first or the second) is slowly pulling me home, and I’m giving way to it. I want it to. But at the same time, I’m terrified.
Right now, I have to trust in the uncertainty of life. I can’t make concrete plans, I can’t promise people I’ll be here, there or yonder. I can’t promise myself I’ll be here, there or yonder. All I can do is make a promise to myself that I won’t ignore what I know I must do. I won’t let my fears stop me. They will try, of course. It’s normal. But life is too short for them to hold me back and this is the only time to live and to make a difference in our own lives as well as the lives of others.
08-02-2012 By the roadside she stood...
So, Kayamkulam school; once again it’s nearly time to bid the kids and the teachers farewell. Everyone wants me to stay; even the principal and the other senior staff members (which took me very much by surprise). There’s talk (again) of getting me a more permanent visa. But I don’t know if it’s possible. And I don’t know if I want one.
Things have changed so much ever since I heard the news of my book getting published. My mind has been gearing itself up for such a different direction and for the past 4 weeks I don’t know HOW I’ve actually been able to keep my focus on the classes I’ve been teaching. And for this reason, I’ve felt like the bad teacher; not giving my 100% due to my mind being elsewhere. And, I also must admit, I’ve felt the strain quite a bit – of being here in body but elsewhere in mind… and partially in spirit.
I see how I’m pushing myself away from this job, either with or without willing to… How so? With every chance I’ll be getting and every moment of peace I’ll be having, I’ll be placing myself in my own little bubble of writing, analyzing and creating; so clarity will come… It’s become such a habit that I’ve started to become scared I’ll waste time and loose moments of writing in between classes or at break time. I’ll be scared that something amazing could’ve been written down, in moments when I’ve been sitting (or standing) and waiting for something to happen (which is a normal part of life in India… haha).
Just to give you a small example of how my days are starting to evolve: every morning when I’m waiting for the schoolbus to pick me up – so as to avoid wasting 5, 10 or sometimes 15 minutes of precious time - I’ll stand by the roadside, not impatiently looking in the direction from where the bus is supposed to arrive, but instead with my tiny notebook and pen in hand and I’ll be writing small notes… At times I think this looks bonkers. The same villagers who pass by day after day see me standing there at the same time, day after day, doing the same thing: putting something in that tiny pink little notebook… But what do I care what these villagers think of me – because the only thing that matters is that I don’t let those thoughts slip! And in their eyes, I’m a freak either way, because I’m different with or without my notebook that lets me escape into my own space.
It sounds very much like I’m off on another planet and to be honest I have been, and at the best of times I still am. It’s because of this shift that’s happening and I can’t go against it. Since hearing of getting published it’s like I’m coaxing myself away from teaching and encouraging myself to think bigger than before. All these precious notes I’ve been taking, as I’m standing on the side of these small village roads, are telling me that I have to stop being scared of failing. I have to stop torturing myself…
Continuously, for the past year, all I’ve wanted to do is write. I’ve written about it extensively for months and months, in my journal. Sometimes I’ve wondered just how much I could’ve created FOR OTHERS TO READ with all the energy I’ve put into my journaling… And this is not the first time it’s happened. Before I wrote my book, I went through the same thing: writing about writing... And I’m doing it again! Maybe I’ll always be writing about writing, whether I’m writing a book or not… because even when I finally did start writing my book, I was writing about what I was writing… Man oh man… I seem obsessed…
Anyhow… back to the point I’m trying to make (if there is one). I’ve been teaching for a year and what I’ve been wishing for, is to be writing. It’s increased since I heard my biggest news of course. Before that I was able to contain myself, I pushed it away. Especially because of being in India and for being ‘handed’ the teaching position; which was the main thing that brought me back here.
But now, the urge is rising again and I’m forcing myself to move onwards and to take another risk. I feel the teaching option is the safe route… I know I can have a job if I really want it. I know I could be ‘safe’. But if I were to head in that direction, at this stage in the game, I wouldn’t be happy. The reassuring thing about teaching is that I know I can make it happen, whenever I want and need it to. It’s one of the many things I learnt in China. And, if the time is right and the writing has been given preference, THEN I can let myself get absorbed in the teaching, without feeling as though I’m turning my back on something far more important. But at this moment in time, I’m not absorbed in the teaching even though I’m teaching. Other stuff is rising.
So, one last short note on choosing the ‘safe’ option: it can happen when writing has been done. Does this mean writing doesn’t feel safe? Sitting down to create doesn’t feel secure? It doesn’t when I take the economic climate into account or how the ‘world’ would say I’m mad for not choosing financial stability.
In regards to MYSELF, writing and creating feels like the closest I can get to being me… it feels the closest I can get to being real… it feels to be the best work I can do in this world and it feels to be the way I can give the most to others. So, within myself, I find extreme security if I’m working on a book. So why would I say it’s unsafe and unsure? Why would I fear it? Because it’s an unknown route and an unknown world within me that can be brought to life…
I have no clue how it will all turn out, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that I can’t do it.
Things have changed so much ever since I heard the news of my book getting published. My mind has been gearing itself up for such a different direction and for the past 4 weeks I don’t know HOW I’ve actually been able to keep my focus on the classes I’ve been teaching. And for this reason, I’ve felt like the bad teacher; not giving my 100% due to my mind being elsewhere. And, I also must admit, I’ve felt the strain quite a bit – of being here in body but elsewhere in mind… and partially in spirit.
I see how I’m pushing myself away from this job, either with or without willing to… How so? With every chance I’ll be getting and every moment of peace I’ll be having, I’ll be placing myself in my own little bubble of writing, analyzing and creating; so clarity will come… It’s become such a habit that I’ve started to become scared I’ll waste time and loose moments of writing in between classes or at break time. I’ll be scared that something amazing could’ve been written down, in moments when I’ve been sitting (or standing) and waiting for something to happen (which is a normal part of life in India… haha).
Just to give you a small example of how my days are starting to evolve: every morning when I’m waiting for the schoolbus to pick me up – so as to avoid wasting 5, 10 or sometimes 15 minutes of precious time - I’ll stand by the roadside, not impatiently looking in the direction from where the bus is supposed to arrive, but instead with my tiny notebook and pen in hand and I’ll be writing small notes… At times I think this looks bonkers. The same villagers who pass by day after day see me standing there at the same time, day after day, doing the same thing: putting something in that tiny pink little notebook… But what do I care what these villagers think of me – because the only thing that matters is that I don’t let those thoughts slip! And in their eyes, I’m a freak either way, because I’m different with or without my notebook that lets me escape into my own space.
It sounds very much like I’m off on another planet and to be honest I have been, and at the best of times I still am. It’s because of this shift that’s happening and I can’t go against it. Since hearing of getting published it’s like I’m coaxing myself away from teaching and encouraging myself to think bigger than before. All these precious notes I’ve been taking, as I’m standing on the side of these small village roads, are telling me that I have to stop being scared of failing. I have to stop torturing myself…
Continuously, for the past year, all I’ve wanted to do is write. I’ve written about it extensively for months and months, in my journal. Sometimes I’ve wondered just how much I could’ve created FOR OTHERS TO READ with all the energy I’ve put into my journaling… And this is not the first time it’s happened. Before I wrote my book, I went through the same thing: writing about writing... And I’m doing it again! Maybe I’ll always be writing about writing, whether I’m writing a book or not… because even when I finally did start writing my book, I was writing about what I was writing… Man oh man… I seem obsessed…
Anyhow… back to the point I’m trying to make (if there is one). I’ve been teaching for a year and what I’ve been wishing for, is to be writing. It’s increased since I heard my biggest news of course. Before that I was able to contain myself, I pushed it away. Especially because of being in India and for being ‘handed’ the teaching position; which was the main thing that brought me back here.
But now, the urge is rising again and I’m forcing myself to move onwards and to take another risk. I feel the teaching option is the safe route… I know I can have a job if I really want it. I know I could be ‘safe’. But if I were to head in that direction, at this stage in the game, I wouldn’t be happy. The reassuring thing about teaching is that I know I can make it happen, whenever I want and need it to. It’s one of the many things I learnt in China. And, if the time is right and the writing has been given preference, THEN I can let myself get absorbed in the teaching, without feeling as though I’m turning my back on something far more important. But at this moment in time, I’m not absorbed in the teaching even though I’m teaching. Other stuff is rising.
So, one last short note on choosing the ‘safe’ option: it can happen when writing has been done. Does this mean writing doesn’t feel safe? Sitting down to create doesn’t feel secure? It doesn’t when I take the economic climate into account or how the ‘world’ would say I’m mad for not choosing financial stability.
In regards to MYSELF, writing and creating feels like the closest I can get to being me… it feels the closest I can get to being real… it feels to be the best work I can do in this world and it feels to be the way I can give the most to others. So, within myself, I find extreme security if I’m working on a book. So why would I say it’s unsafe and unsure? Why would I fear it? Because it’s an unknown route and an unknown world within me that can be brought to life…
I have no clue how it will all turn out, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that I can’t do it.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
A face full of happiness
This is where I now stand (or sit): On a stool with a full belly of fried rice, sweat dripping down my back, a jug of warm cumin water beside me and glasses on my nose that are sliding down my face. It’s 20.18pm on the 5th of Feb and I just spent the weekend at a friends house (Riya). This was the second time for me to visit her and her family, during this visit to India. I went in October to say ‘hi’. And now I went to say ‘bye’. It’s one of the last weekends here in India and by going to her place, I managed to spend it in a most traditional Indian manner; once again by being welcomed into a home with 4 generations so as to be given MORE, MORE and even MORE than I needed. Unlike other times, I didn’t feel overwhelmed; I knew what to expect and I also knew it would be the last time… so I appreciated it more. And instead of feeling it all to be too much, I just felt so lucky to be there. I realized, that for no reason whatsoever, these people treat me like one of their own…
When I was leaving, I was asked more than 20 times, when I was coming back to stay for good. I wasn’t being asked IF… no… I was being asked WHEN… and all I could answer was: ‘I don’t know’. And even when giving such uncertainty, they were still sure to tell me that WHEN I come back, I have to bring the WHOLE FAMILY with me… mother, father, sisters… everybody! ‘Bring them all Niamh!’ I love it when they do that, it’s so innocent and sweet, because in reality, there’s no room for the whole family to stay! Just as well I’d never follow it through and never take the offer seriously; they’d be in for quite a shock! This family actually isn’t the only one who has invited ALL OF MY FAMILY… nope, nearly every family I’ve visited in the past 5 months (I can’t tell you how many) has said the same thing. It just shows how big their hearts are; even if their cute homes aren’t…
On the note of Indian hospitality, I wrote an article about it last year, when I was back in Ireland. It got published on an internet travel magazine. When I left Ireland for China I made a copy of it and put it in my portfolio along with some other articles. I traveled with it thinking I might need it along the way. And last week, I opened up the folder and saw this article again about Indian hospitality. When it was getting published, I added some pictures I’d taken in this school in Kayamkulam, back in 2010. One was taken with a teacher who is still at the school now. So I showed it to her last week and her reaction was one I didn’t expect. She said she felt privileged and honored that I chose her picture… when really I felt this particular picture so dear to me, because it reflected an amazing time that I was able to share with people who had never been in touch with India before.
Also, when I was writing this article and choosing the pictures, I never thought I’d ever be sitting with that particular teacher again and showing her the piece of work. But it happened only a few days ago; I sat and reflected on the experience I had in 2010 in regards to hospitality, with a teacher who I then was quite close to, and still am, as a result of the time we spent teaching together. How crazy it is, the way we can come full-circle, without any plan or intention. Suddenly chapters that were left open can feel more complete.
This article shows the people who I have great memories with, that these ‘short’ experiences DO have an everlasting impression on me. People I’ve become close to in India (and China also) have said many times, that I’ll forget them once I leave… and then comes their subtle request for me to come back. I’d always reassure that I’ll never forget the time we spent together. However the question will always remain, if I do or don’t come back. Nothing planned and if the circle is left open, a time will always have to come, for it to become full.
By the way, just to add to the whole ‘hospitality’ thing; I’ve experienced that side of India in a different way than last time… last time it scared the life out of me and I didn’t want to fully appreciate it and I kept a subconscious distance (something I’m only seeing now, as I compare both experiences). This time, I didn’t have much choice but to engage because I was living with Lekha for 2 months – the most caring woman in the country – and because of the people here in the hostel as well as at school, they do more than their best to provide me with more than I need. From October onwards (which is when I moved in with Lekha) I first worked on getting passed the fear of their giving and caring nature, then it became nourishing, homing, still occasionally frustrating with small touches of annoyances – and I mean that in the nicest way possible!
This is a topic I could go on and on about, but I’ll keep that for a later date. Let’s just say that I needed such a homing feeling and such nourishment. And judging by what those around me are saying, it’s done me the world of good. Because all I hear is how the Indian food, the climate and their life style, along with the school environment, have filled my face with colour, with healthy cheeks and with happiness…
When I was leaving, I was asked more than 20 times, when I was coming back to stay for good. I wasn’t being asked IF… no… I was being asked WHEN… and all I could answer was: ‘I don’t know’. And even when giving such uncertainty, they were still sure to tell me that WHEN I come back, I have to bring the WHOLE FAMILY with me… mother, father, sisters… everybody! ‘Bring them all Niamh!’ I love it when they do that, it’s so innocent and sweet, because in reality, there’s no room for the whole family to stay! Just as well I’d never follow it through and never take the offer seriously; they’d be in for quite a shock! This family actually isn’t the only one who has invited ALL OF MY FAMILY… nope, nearly every family I’ve visited in the past 5 months (I can’t tell you how many) has said the same thing. It just shows how big their hearts are; even if their cute homes aren’t…
On the note of Indian hospitality, I wrote an article about it last year, when I was back in Ireland. It got published on an internet travel magazine. When I left Ireland for China I made a copy of it and put it in my portfolio along with some other articles. I traveled with it thinking I might need it along the way. And last week, I opened up the folder and saw this article again about Indian hospitality. When it was getting published, I added some pictures I’d taken in this school in Kayamkulam, back in 2010. One was taken with a teacher who is still at the school now. So I showed it to her last week and her reaction was one I didn’t expect. She said she felt privileged and honored that I chose her picture… when really I felt this particular picture so dear to me, because it reflected an amazing time that I was able to share with people who had never been in touch with India before.
Also, when I was writing this article and choosing the pictures, I never thought I’d ever be sitting with that particular teacher again and showing her the piece of work. But it happened only a few days ago; I sat and reflected on the experience I had in 2010 in regards to hospitality, with a teacher who I then was quite close to, and still am, as a result of the time we spent teaching together. How crazy it is, the way we can come full-circle, without any plan or intention. Suddenly chapters that were left open can feel more complete.
This article shows the people who I have great memories with, that these ‘short’ experiences DO have an everlasting impression on me. People I’ve become close to in India (and China also) have said many times, that I’ll forget them once I leave… and then comes their subtle request for me to come back. I’d always reassure that I’ll never forget the time we spent together. However the question will always remain, if I do or don’t come back. Nothing planned and if the circle is left open, a time will always have to come, for it to become full.
By the way, just to add to the whole ‘hospitality’ thing; I’ve experienced that side of India in a different way than last time… last time it scared the life out of me and I didn’t want to fully appreciate it and I kept a subconscious distance (something I’m only seeing now, as I compare both experiences). This time, I didn’t have much choice but to engage because I was living with Lekha for 2 months – the most caring woman in the country – and because of the people here in the hostel as well as at school, they do more than their best to provide me with more than I need. From October onwards (which is when I moved in with Lekha) I first worked on getting passed the fear of their giving and caring nature, then it became nourishing, homing, still occasionally frustrating with small touches of annoyances – and I mean that in the nicest way possible!
This is a topic I could go on and on about, but I’ll keep that for a later date. Let’s just say that I needed such a homing feeling and such nourishment. And judging by what those around me are saying, it’s done me the world of good. Because all I hear is how the Indian food, the climate and their life style, along with the school environment, have filled my face with colour, with healthy cheeks and with happiness…
Friday, January 27, 2012
Pondering Freedom
I’m learning to change my way of thinking by telling myself; if a job doesn’t appear, then nothing bad is going to happen, it doesn’t mean the end of the world or of my freedom… Freedom is created by the mind… just like imprisonment. We can barricade ourselves by the way we think, or we can free ourselves. Barricading is the easy way to go, and freeing ourselves is the challenge. I’ve never been shy of any challenge, so I choose to free myself. Because it then becomes irrelevant where I’m residing in the world.
For example: in the past I’ve been imprisoned in the one place on earth I believed would guarantee me freedom: India. Only months ago I was imprisoning myself by the way I was thinking… in the country I love so dear! On the other hand, I’ve been as free as a bird in the one country I believed I’d never feel happy: Ireland. Freedom isn’t through physical movement. The physical movement I seem to have ‘committed’ myself to, seems to be in aid of realizing this truth; that moving from one place to the next, doesn’t mean we are free. It will appear to the majority that we are, because people will only see the exterior actions, they’ll only see what’s happening on the outside; what the person is doing, where they are going and how they are moving. But really, it’s about what approach the traveler has towards the movement that will indicate whether or not a person is free.
To specify; if a person saw me 2 months ago for the first time and tomorrow for the second time, they would see no change. They still see Niamh, smiling, and loving life, in the same position; teaching in India. But, holy smoke, how wrong would their interpretation of my ‘unaltered’ state of mind and position in life be! If only they were to look inside, they’d realize the change that has taken place; the outlook of the world has broadened and the limitations have disappeared from my mind, and it’s been life changing. My approach towards movement, physically, is changing as the perception of the world changes around me.
Once upon a time, my movement was only to be on the road and to appear (on the outside) as being the traveler… even if I was imprisoned by a certain way of thinking. Now though, I’m moving to put this new piece of information into practice, I need to experience how it works: the fact that no matter how much or how little I move, freedom is created by the mind and I can never blame the outside world and my surroundings for the barriers that can exist between myself and the world.
When we tend to blame the people and society, that’s when we’ve lost touch with ourselves and we’re not strong enough – in our own truth – to speak this truth and simply say: ‘this place isn’t where I want or need to be right now’. If we’re in touch with our truth, we’d have the strength to witness barriers arising (that leads to unhappiness) and this would be giving ourselves ‘permission’ to wholeheartedly move on and to learn from the experience. If we witness either our instant connection with a place or our instant disconnection with ourselves (whilst being in a place), we then choose whether to stay or go, and we’ll carry out what we need to do in order to keep moving forward (either physically or not). And it will never be the wrong thing – because it’s ‘right’ according to OUR SELVES, our own truth. We’ll still have our freedom. And the place that we could’ve blamed for imprisoning us, wouldn’t damage us because we’ve take responsibility for our own mind and realized that the only thing that can damage us, as we move from one place to the next, is ourselves, if we’ve taken the ‘wrong’ approach (and by ‘wrong’ I mean: lying to ourselves and trying to convince ourselves we’re something other than we are).
So, the conclusion to this rant of freedom (I could type forever) is that I’m finally learning why I’ve been, and still am, so committed to traveling. As I’ve been moving, and blogging, and journaling, and meditating and spending so many hours alone, I’m in continuous reflection-mode. This means I’m learning all the time from the actions I’ve taken. And now it’s starting to make even more sense why I’ve traveled the way I’ve traveled. The depth behind my travels is changing… it’s not to see the touristy places, it never has been and it probably never will be. But it’s to find the real meaning behind the word freedom, and to be an expression of that word.
Man oh man, I could write a book… there’s so much movement in my life right now, just as I’m sitting on the laptop sharing my thoughts of today… this is amazing.
One last notion, in relation to the topic of freedom and ‘me-time’: Only this morning I met a young 19 year old girl here in the hostel, a student who lives nearby. We were chatting and she then wanted to know my ambition. I said: to be a writer… then I paused and said (shocking myself as I spoke): Actually, I already am a writer. She then said: ‘Ah… yes! because you are alone so much, you’ll always be thinking and thinking and then you need to write. Writers are always single and alone’. It was the strangest thing for somebody, a young girl who I’d only just met, to recognize this. She could see how and why a person devotes so much time to writing; the need to write is increased because of the ‘alone time’ I have; in this ‘alone time’ I’m learning everything I need to know, so I can write.
So, I’m a loner?! That doesn’t matter, not if these are the revelations that come to me, not if I’m becoming more conscious of what I’m doing and why I’m doing these things. Not if these breakthroughs are letting me feel as though this really is only the start of my journeys and ventures. I obviously needed to be away from western people for 4 months; here in India the language has given me some limits in regards to connecting with people around me, but it’s given me unlimited access to connecting with myself. Wouw… life is truly amazing… and how blessed I am to have these options, to have an open road… with or without a job to move towards, with or without an abundant stash of cash in the bottom of my backpack. I have many things that I can put my hand to in the world and whatever I’m meant to do next, it will happen.
Only 2 more weeks… I’m savouring this part of the journey so so much. School is great, lessons are flying (up and down all the time) and the coconuts will be probably be coming out of my ears by the time I leave… my body is telling me to eat more, because, once I’m gone, I’ll be surely missing the flavoursome coconut dishes.
For example: in the past I’ve been imprisoned in the one place on earth I believed would guarantee me freedom: India. Only months ago I was imprisoning myself by the way I was thinking… in the country I love so dear! On the other hand, I’ve been as free as a bird in the one country I believed I’d never feel happy: Ireland. Freedom isn’t through physical movement. The physical movement I seem to have ‘committed’ myself to, seems to be in aid of realizing this truth; that moving from one place to the next, doesn’t mean we are free. It will appear to the majority that we are, because people will only see the exterior actions, they’ll only see what’s happening on the outside; what the person is doing, where they are going and how they are moving. But really, it’s about what approach the traveler has towards the movement that will indicate whether or not a person is free.
To specify; if a person saw me 2 months ago for the first time and tomorrow for the second time, they would see no change. They still see Niamh, smiling, and loving life, in the same position; teaching in India. But, holy smoke, how wrong would their interpretation of my ‘unaltered’ state of mind and position in life be! If only they were to look inside, they’d realize the change that has taken place; the outlook of the world has broadened and the limitations have disappeared from my mind, and it’s been life changing. My approach towards movement, physically, is changing as the perception of the world changes around me.
Once upon a time, my movement was only to be on the road and to appear (on the outside) as being the traveler… even if I was imprisoned by a certain way of thinking. Now though, I’m moving to put this new piece of information into practice, I need to experience how it works: the fact that no matter how much or how little I move, freedom is created by the mind and I can never blame the outside world and my surroundings for the barriers that can exist between myself and the world.
When we tend to blame the people and society, that’s when we’ve lost touch with ourselves and we’re not strong enough – in our own truth – to speak this truth and simply say: ‘this place isn’t where I want or need to be right now’. If we’re in touch with our truth, we’d have the strength to witness barriers arising (that leads to unhappiness) and this would be giving ourselves ‘permission’ to wholeheartedly move on and to learn from the experience. If we witness either our instant connection with a place or our instant disconnection with ourselves (whilst being in a place), we then choose whether to stay or go, and we’ll carry out what we need to do in order to keep moving forward (either physically or not). And it will never be the wrong thing – because it’s ‘right’ according to OUR SELVES, our own truth. We’ll still have our freedom. And the place that we could’ve blamed for imprisoning us, wouldn’t damage us because we’ve take responsibility for our own mind and realized that the only thing that can damage us, as we move from one place to the next, is ourselves, if we’ve taken the ‘wrong’ approach (and by ‘wrong’ I mean: lying to ourselves and trying to convince ourselves we’re something other than we are).
So, the conclusion to this rant of freedom (I could type forever) is that I’m finally learning why I’ve been, and still am, so committed to traveling. As I’ve been moving, and blogging, and journaling, and meditating and spending so many hours alone, I’m in continuous reflection-mode. This means I’m learning all the time from the actions I’ve taken. And now it’s starting to make even more sense why I’ve traveled the way I’ve traveled. The depth behind my travels is changing… it’s not to see the touristy places, it never has been and it probably never will be. But it’s to find the real meaning behind the word freedom, and to be an expression of that word.
Man oh man, I could write a book… there’s so much movement in my life right now, just as I’m sitting on the laptop sharing my thoughts of today… this is amazing.
One last notion, in relation to the topic of freedom and ‘me-time’: Only this morning I met a young 19 year old girl here in the hostel, a student who lives nearby. We were chatting and she then wanted to know my ambition. I said: to be a writer… then I paused and said (shocking myself as I spoke): Actually, I already am a writer. She then said: ‘Ah… yes! because you are alone so much, you’ll always be thinking and thinking and then you need to write. Writers are always single and alone’. It was the strangest thing for somebody, a young girl who I’d only just met, to recognize this. She could see how and why a person devotes so much time to writing; the need to write is increased because of the ‘alone time’ I have; in this ‘alone time’ I’m learning everything I need to know, so I can write.
So, I’m a loner?! That doesn’t matter, not if these are the revelations that come to me, not if I’m becoming more conscious of what I’m doing and why I’m doing these things. Not if these breakthroughs are letting me feel as though this really is only the start of my journeys and ventures. I obviously needed to be away from western people for 4 months; here in India the language has given me some limits in regards to connecting with people around me, but it’s given me unlimited access to connecting with myself. Wouw… life is truly amazing… and how blessed I am to have these options, to have an open road… with or without a job to move towards, with or without an abundant stash of cash in the bottom of my backpack. I have many things that I can put my hand to in the world and whatever I’m meant to do next, it will happen.
Only 2 more weeks… I’m savouring this part of the journey so so much. School is great, lessons are flying (up and down all the time) and the coconuts will be probably be coming out of my ears by the time I leave… my body is telling me to eat more, because, once I’m gone, I’ll be surely missing the flavoursome coconut dishes.
Where to next?
Just a few thoughts… to mark the moment… The clock is ticking and where am I considering going, once the date to leave arrives? For weeks, even months, I’ve been thinking of Nepal. I have this vision of sitting at the foot of the Himalayas, with the snowy peaks in the background, writing a book. All swell, all flowing, and totally calm…without any worries. There’s also a Buddhist munk in this vision, by the way, who motivates me to meditate… Yay! ;)
It’s great to dream! But being practical is apart of travels too… yes, it can all (and most likely would) be amazing, but… it’s the end of winter, up in the north. For the past 8 months I’ve been in temperatures of around 30 degrees (my last 2 months in China were just as hot as it is here now, even if it was a different kind of heat). In Nepal it’s around 13 degrees at the moment, and that’s in the warmest and most southern place.
Hummm…. Still being practical (even if I would love to follow that dream): I’ve no winter clothes, I’ve no shoes, no socks, no jumpers… Nothing! I’m not prepared at all for a climate change that will lead to me changing the entire contents of my backpack – overnight! I’d need to go on a full shopping spree to cloth myself, up in Delhi before crossing the boarder… and then what to do with the clothes I’ve got? Dump them? Send them home? And then…? when I’m fully clothed and I stay for around 2 months, it will start warming-up again… And again, this will lead to a change in the contents of my backpack?! What a hassle… To add to that, I don’t even know if it will work out when I get there… I’ve done no research (no time) and don’t know where exactly to go. It might all be for nothing. I might not want to stay…
There are a lot of ifs, buts and maybes, with this upcoming move. Most will say these are silly reasons and are easily solved. Yes that’s true. But, considering I’m not really in the financial position to be country-hopping like there’s no tomorrow, I do need to be practical…
So, this led to me to think about finding a teaching job for 3 months; just one more teaching position before going home. I’ve been surfing online, looking at what’s available and it’s felt quite liberating… I don’t feel any pressure at all when I’m searching (since the news of the book getting published, my whole outlook has changed, and the world is even more open to me; everything feels so easy and light!). Yesterday I updated my cv. It’s been ages since I even looked at it and it was exciting to jot down the new teaching and travel experiences I’ve gained over the past year and a half. I even wrote a cover letter to send to different agencies. (As soon as I tear myself away from emailing and blogging, I should get on with that…)
As you can tell, for the past week I’ve been trying to find answers and ways to move. Options in Vietnam came up, then in Thailand, South Korea, Indonesia… and China, China, China. The amount of jobs I could have in a jiffy… is unreal (in China I mean). I must admit, I was tempted to apply. But after serious contemplation and with this recent shift of thinking, I can see and think further than China. If I were to go back, it would only be because it’s easy to get there. For no other reason at all. I’d be taking the ‘easy’ option – even if it’s a difficult country to live in, as a western. Thankfully I’m seeing so many more opportunities and if I really want, I can have another teaching experience before returning home in May. I have to believe it, if I really want it. And if I don’t fully believe, well then maybe it’s a sign that I, instead, DO want and need to sit somewhere - anywhere in the world - and write a book. Or maybe it’s a sign that I should go back to Ireland even sooner than May…
There were other places that came to mind… Sri Lanka, Maladives… and… Spain??? Where that notion came from, I’ve not got a clue. But it’s the only place I’d be willing to go in Europe, if there were a job. Maybe it’s because I could learn the language and then be guided onwards to South America… haha… where I’ll be able to communicate with the people, in my future fluent Spanish! Wouw… that’s really going ‘far’… I guess nothing is impossible!
The way I’m talking, anyone would swear I’m loaded with a stash of cash hidden in the bottom of my backpack. But really, this is very far from the truth. The main reason I can move and travel, is because of the jobs. Otherwise I’d not be able to do any of this. And, at the moment, if I want to keep moving, I have to have something of a job lined-up. Does it worry me, when it’s not yet happening? Like now, when I need to move, but the next step hasn’t been set and a job has not yet come my way? In the past I would’ve been worried, stressed and it would keep me awake at night. Now, hummm… of course it occupies my mind, and I over-think things, I contemplate and I wonder. But, I’m not scared that not finding anything will mean the end of my free moving and traveling. Right now, I’m actually excited to think that I don’t know where my next step is heading and I have to love the fact that I don’t know where my next pay check will be coming from.
So I shall ponder freedom....
It’s great to dream! But being practical is apart of travels too… yes, it can all (and most likely would) be amazing, but… it’s the end of winter, up in the north. For the past 8 months I’ve been in temperatures of around 30 degrees (my last 2 months in China were just as hot as it is here now, even if it was a different kind of heat). In Nepal it’s around 13 degrees at the moment, and that’s in the warmest and most southern place.
Hummm…. Still being practical (even if I would love to follow that dream): I’ve no winter clothes, I’ve no shoes, no socks, no jumpers… Nothing! I’m not prepared at all for a climate change that will lead to me changing the entire contents of my backpack – overnight! I’d need to go on a full shopping spree to cloth myself, up in Delhi before crossing the boarder… and then what to do with the clothes I’ve got? Dump them? Send them home? And then…? when I’m fully clothed and I stay for around 2 months, it will start warming-up again… And again, this will lead to a change in the contents of my backpack?! What a hassle… To add to that, I don’t even know if it will work out when I get there… I’ve done no research (no time) and don’t know where exactly to go. It might all be for nothing. I might not want to stay…
There are a lot of ifs, buts and maybes, with this upcoming move. Most will say these are silly reasons and are easily solved. Yes that’s true. But, considering I’m not really in the financial position to be country-hopping like there’s no tomorrow, I do need to be practical…
So, this led to me to think about finding a teaching job for 3 months; just one more teaching position before going home. I’ve been surfing online, looking at what’s available and it’s felt quite liberating… I don’t feel any pressure at all when I’m searching (since the news of the book getting published, my whole outlook has changed, and the world is even more open to me; everything feels so easy and light!). Yesterday I updated my cv. It’s been ages since I even looked at it and it was exciting to jot down the new teaching and travel experiences I’ve gained over the past year and a half. I even wrote a cover letter to send to different agencies. (As soon as I tear myself away from emailing and blogging, I should get on with that…)
As you can tell, for the past week I’ve been trying to find answers and ways to move. Options in Vietnam came up, then in Thailand, South Korea, Indonesia… and China, China, China. The amount of jobs I could have in a jiffy… is unreal (in China I mean). I must admit, I was tempted to apply. But after serious contemplation and with this recent shift of thinking, I can see and think further than China. If I were to go back, it would only be because it’s easy to get there. For no other reason at all. I’d be taking the ‘easy’ option – even if it’s a difficult country to live in, as a western. Thankfully I’m seeing so many more opportunities and if I really want, I can have another teaching experience before returning home in May. I have to believe it, if I really want it. And if I don’t fully believe, well then maybe it’s a sign that I, instead, DO want and need to sit somewhere - anywhere in the world - and write a book. Or maybe it’s a sign that I should go back to Ireland even sooner than May…
There were other places that came to mind… Sri Lanka, Maladives… and… Spain??? Where that notion came from, I’ve not got a clue. But it’s the only place I’d be willing to go in Europe, if there were a job. Maybe it’s because I could learn the language and then be guided onwards to South America… haha… where I’ll be able to communicate with the people, in my future fluent Spanish! Wouw… that’s really going ‘far’… I guess nothing is impossible!
The way I’m talking, anyone would swear I’m loaded with a stash of cash hidden in the bottom of my backpack. But really, this is very far from the truth. The main reason I can move and travel, is because of the jobs. Otherwise I’d not be able to do any of this. And, at the moment, if I want to keep moving, I have to have something of a job lined-up. Does it worry me, when it’s not yet happening? Like now, when I need to move, but the next step hasn’t been set and a job has not yet come my way? In the past I would’ve been worried, stressed and it would keep me awake at night. Now, hummm… of course it occupies my mind, and I over-think things, I contemplate and I wonder. But, I’m not scared that not finding anything will mean the end of my free moving and traveling. Right now, I’m actually excited to think that I don’t know where my next step is heading and I have to love the fact that I don’t know where my next pay check will be coming from.
So I shall ponder freedom....
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Breaking news - concluded
So, we set a date on skype and one week later, we connect… only chatting (as in; typing back and forth, not actually talking, due to the bad connection)… I can see her, the video works, but she can’t see me… And the first thing I think when I see her: ‘wouw… how nice it is, to see an Irish lady!’ Man, I feel so at home… the ‘Irishness’ oozes off her! (at the moment the Irishness will ooze out of every Irish person I see, as it’s been so long since I’ve had any contact!) Yes, it’s great to feel homely, but I still don’t know why she wants to talk. She’s a business woman and of course I can rely on her to not beat around the bush and to get straight to the point… She wants to know if and when I’m game to do interviews and if I can be actively involved in PR. WHAT WHAT WHAT???
Thank god we aren’t actually speaking; so I have some thinking and breathing time in between the messages to give a proper and ‘professional’ response… Hummm… I’m confused and oh so stupidly innocent and blind. But also, I’m honest, so I tell her that I’m not sure if her positive feedback actually means she wants to work with the book. Does she actually want to publish???? And, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, I get the response… ‘Yes, it’s a book that comes from the heart and tells real truth, which is how such a story should be told’. Again, I’m so lucky she couldn’t see me or hear me… because I sit behind the computer, in a stinking hot and dirty little booth with the fan blowing in my face, crying tears of excitement, joy and relief… wouw… she actually wants my book!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The search is suddenly over and a new chapter in my life feels to open!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This happened last week Thursday. The conversation went on for quite some time until, after an hour, the power cuts and the computer shuts down. We got the chance to discuss some details and the most important being: she will write the contract and if we’re both comfortable with it, the publishing will start! I couldn’t believe it… that news gave me so many answers about my whole life… and where I’m going and what I need to focus on next. It’s unreal how everything suddenly fell into place without forcing anything! That’s always a true sign that these things are meant to be…
When our conversation ended… I sent my mother a text message to ring me on my mobile asap. I had to tell her first… this was the biggest news I’ve ever had, in my entire life! She called straight away… and I’m in tears, screeching down the phone that the publisher has accepted my ‘baby’! That news instantly made me speak the words that I’ll be coming home to do the PR and whatever else is involved. Wouw… End of Spring is when she would need to be in Ireland… and end of Spring is when Ma had hoped me to be back, because that’s also when my little niece Kayla is getting christened (and it’s turning into quite a big event). I didn’t think I’d be coming back for it… I hadn’t a clue what exact direction I was heading in, not until last week Thursday. The world has made the decision for me! And it all fits so nicely together. Perfect!
While I was chatting on skype and speaking with ma, I felt as though the world had temporarily stopped spinning. It’s hard to explain… it’s like when you receive devastating news, you can’t comprehend that the world and its people are still living their lives, as if nothing big has happened or changed. I felt this same feeling, but then not because of devastation but of a huge break through. After speaking with Mam, I stepped outside onto the busy street. I had this new piece of information and my life would never be the same again! However the man who is selling fruit, is still having his afternoon nap behind his stall and the shopkeeper next door, is still sitting in the same place as 2 hours previous… whereas I had just received the biggest news of my life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s so silly that I was thinking like this, but it just shows how big a thing this is for me, which sent me onto a cloud and this world around me, felt so unimportant… But life does continue of course, so on the way home, I stopped for some groceries in the local store, just to be asked my salary by the shopkeeper!!!!!
(Sorry, just had to share that tiny piece of info – as a reflection of how much people here wish to know about you!!!!!!!)
So, back on track… I wasn’t too sure what to do with this news… was I to tell others? Hummm… I only told ma on that same day… and the next morning I was going to tell some teachers who I’m close to at school, but once I arrived, I got absorbed in lessons and I didn’t even think about my big news. So I’ve not told anybody here, and only sent a few emails to the sisters and only now am I spreading it through this post. At first the news felt surreal, but now it feels more safe… if that makes sense. Even though I’ve not yet seen the contract and it’s still a verbal agreement. But I feel it’s okay to spread the news. Because it simply going to happen.
This news has brought a tremendous amount of excitement, relief and clarity and it’s answering many questions. These answers are opening up more doors than I could’ve imagined and it feels safe and secure to know that something is being done ‘out there’ with my book. I once feared I’d need to stop travelling in order to publish, but this news is proof that I don’t need to stop, it’s happening. It’s such a blessing and gives me enormous peace of mind and freedom. There’s no more feeling of neglect and I feel more able to focus on the teaching. This job feels more ‘right’ than ‘wrong’, now that the book is being published… that sounds so strange I know. But teaching always felt wrong, because of the ‘self-publishing work’ I otherwise could’ve been doing. But I don’t need to consider that anymore. Many things are making more sense. And I’m more inspired to start another book, without force and without fear of it being in aid of ‘nothing’.
So, I await her following email with good news and something in writing attached, so I can confirm that she will be bringing my writing to print…sometime in 2012. We will have to seal this deal! Until then, life continues as normal, I’ll plan my onwards travels, spend some time with the students and cherish this new beginning.
Thank god we aren’t actually speaking; so I have some thinking and breathing time in between the messages to give a proper and ‘professional’ response… Hummm… I’m confused and oh so stupidly innocent and blind. But also, I’m honest, so I tell her that I’m not sure if her positive feedback actually means she wants to work with the book. Does she actually want to publish???? And, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, I get the response… ‘Yes, it’s a book that comes from the heart and tells real truth, which is how such a story should be told’. Again, I’m so lucky she couldn’t see me or hear me… because I sit behind the computer, in a stinking hot and dirty little booth with the fan blowing in my face, crying tears of excitement, joy and relief… wouw… she actually wants my book!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The search is suddenly over and a new chapter in my life feels to open!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This happened last week Thursday. The conversation went on for quite some time until, after an hour, the power cuts and the computer shuts down. We got the chance to discuss some details and the most important being: she will write the contract and if we’re both comfortable with it, the publishing will start! I couldn’t believe it… that news gave me so many answers about my whole life… and where I’m going and what I need to focus on next. It’s unreal how everything suddenly fell into place without forcing anything! That’s always a true sign that these things are meant to be…
When our conversation ended… I sent my mother a text message to ring me on my mobile asap. I had to tell her first… this was the biggest news I’ve ever had, in my entire life! She called straight away… and I’m in tears, screeching down the phone that the publisher has accepted my ‘baby’! That news instantly made me speak the words that I’ll be coming home to do the PR and whatever else is involved. Wouw… End of Spring is when she would need to be in Ireland… and end of Spring is when Ma had hoped me to be back, because that’s also when my little niece Kayla is getting christened (and it’s turning into quite a big event). I didn’t think I’d be coming back for it… I hadn’t a clue what exact direction I was heading in, not until last week Thursday. The world has made the decision for me! And it all fits so nicely together. Perfect!
While I was chatting on skype and speaking with ma, I felt as though the world had temporarily stopped spinning. It’s hard to explain… it’s like when you receive devastating news, you can’t comprehend that the world and its people are still living their lives, as if nothing big has happened or changed. I felt this same feeling, but then not because of devastation but of a huge break through. After speaking with Mam, I stepped outside onto the busy street. I had this new piece of information and my life would never be the same again! However the man who is selling fruit, is still having his afternoon nap behind his stall and the shopkeeper next door, is still sitting in the same place as 2 hours previous… whereas I had just received the biggest news of my life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It’s so silly that I was thinking like this, but it just shows how big a thing this is for me, which sent me onto a cloud and this world around me, felt so unimportant… But life does continue of course, so on the way home, I stopped for some groceries in the local store, just to be asked my salary by the shopkeeper!!!!!
(Sorry, just had to share that tiny piece of info – as a reflection of how much people here wish to know about you!!!!!!!)
So, back on track… I wasn’t too sure what to do with this news… was I to tell others? Hummm… I only told ma on that same day… and the next morning I was going to tell some teachers who I’m close to at school, but once I arrived, I got absorbed in lessons and I didn’t even think about my big news. So I’ve not told anybody here, and only sent a few emails to the sisters and only now am I spreading it through this post. At first the news felt surreal, but now it feels more safe… if that makes sense. Even though I’ve not yet seen the contract and it’s still a verbal agreement. But I feel it’s okay to spread the news. Because it simply going to happen.
This news has brought a tremendous amount of excitement, relief and clarity and it’s answering many questions. These answers are opening up more doors than I could’ve imagined and it feels safe and secure to know that something is being done ‘out there’ with my book. I once feared I’d need to stop travelling in order to publish, but this news is proof that I don’t need to stop, it’s happening. It’s such a blessing and gives me enormous peace of mind and freedom. There’s no more feeling of neglect and I feel more able to focus on the teaching. This job feels more ‘right’ than ‘wrong’, now that the book is being published… that sounds so strange I know. But teaching always felt wrong, because of the ‘self-publishing work’ I otherwise could’ve been doing. But I don’t need to consider that anymore. Many things are making more sense. And I’m more inspired to start another book, without force and without fear of it being in aid of ‘nothing’.
So, I await her following email with good news and something in writing attached, so I can confirm that she will be bringing my writing to print…sometime in 2012. We will have to seal this deal! Until then, life continues as normal, I’ll plan my onwards travels, spend some time with the students and cherish this new beginning.
Breaking news
(Just a short note before you start reading this... At the moment, I can't find the time to tell the people I'm closest to this amazing news that I recently received. I can't find the time to personally send everyone emails. So please forgive me for spreading this news so 'massively' in one go. I'd have loved nothing more than to sit and type personal messages to all my closest family and friends... But for that I simply have no time right now. So, I'm sharing it through my blog, because I simply need to let you all know. I hope nobody feels this is too impersonal or is offended...)
At the moment, I’m still absorbed in teaching and in India. I have been ever since I took on this job. Occasionally, over the past 4 months, I’ve had short and intense panic attacks, whenever I’d think about the book I’ve written and that’s waiting to be published. Being here, in this teaching situation, has often made me feel bad for ‘neglecting’ the process of publishing. I’d feel guilty for the fact that the teaching has taken-over and that I wasn’t actively searching for a means through which I could get the book to the reader.
In October, when I had free time, I had a notion to set-up my own website so as to publish the book myself. That was during my time in Chennai. I worked hard to suss out what I needed to do and was eager to set things in motion… I was so desperate to share my story. After Chennai, what I’d hoped to do… I was unable. I’d hoped that I could teach daily and work on self-publishing in my spare time. But that never happened… Lack of time, lack of internet connection and, more importantly, lack of physical energy. I also felt it a shame to be diving into a world of books, when there was a whole different world to explore just outside Lekha’s back door. So I accepted the fact that I had chosen to teach and that I was only able to do so much. I’ve learned that when we try to focus on too many different tasks and jobs at one, the work we then do in all areas will never receive the right amount of energy and the quality will never be as high as when we put attention only on one task at a time. So I distanced myself from the job I’d put upon myself; self-publishing and I worked as hard as I could to teach the kids some English and to teach myself some teaching skills. All was working great… and it’s still ongoing.
But something changed as a result of a connection that seemed insignificant at the time. On one day back in early December, when I was teaching in Sasthavattom, I checked my email and received a message from Julie, a close family friend from back home. She told me about a publisher she’d personally met. She’d spoken to her about the book I’d written and this lady was interested in such stories. So Julie sent her contact details to me in that one very ‘insignificant’ email.
When I first read the email, I was startled… because I hadn’t actually considered approaching publishers, as I was going to (eventually, when time, energy and internet connection would permit) do the work myself. Also I was startled to think that on the other side of the world, close friends and family still remembered that I’d written a book and still supported my dream and my passion so much. Because here, in this environment, nobody has a clue of my passion (or they may know that I write, but have no idea how much it means to me) nor do they have a clue of my past… Here in my ‘little Indian bubble’ I’ve often forgotten just how much work I once put into writing that book… Except for days when the little panic attacks would hit and I’d be struck by a bout of desperation to get the book on the shelves NOW… then I’d be at a loss as to what to do… whilst being ‘stuck in my Indian bubble’. I had no clue how I’d get it out there…
So on that day when I got the email, I was startled, then excited and anxious. There wasn’t really anybody I could share this news with. Because, as I said, nobody really knew. In my mind I was racing ahead, thinking of where this new, and oh so random, connection could lead. But, as well, after learning from previous rejections by other publishers, I knew the chances of her liking it, were ever so tiny. And if she WERE to like it, the odds of her actually publishing it, were even slimmer. So I tried not to get my hopes up when I emailed the manuscript, after being so tempted to edit the whole thing just one more time or to at least read it, scrutinize it and scrap some ‘not so strong parts’. Thankfully I resisted temptation and trusted that if she was going to like the story, some editing wouldn’t stop her from wanting to work with it. So I attached it, wished it well and didn’t expect to be bedazzled at anytime in the near future. This all happened around 2 weeks before Christmas.
Then, 3 weeks into the new year, sitting in the internet café in Kayamkulam, this is what happens: I open my email and there’s one in particular that gives me flutters in my stomach. It’s from this lady, the publisher. At first I’m a little apprehensive to open it… but… I have to know what her thoughts are, even if she’s going to disregard it… I tell myself not to be struck down or disheartened by her rejection; it’s nothing personal, everyone will have a different opinion and all publishers and agencies are searching for a certain type of writer… it’s all part of the tough book publishing world.
However, fear shouldn’t be near! Because, there it is… for the first time since writing the book, I receive positive feed-back from somebody other than my family… Yes yes yes! Finally, some happy words about my book! She’s positive, she likes it a lot and feels it has a good flow and a sincere message to spread. The comment blows me away… and it’s followed by: ‘can we chat on skype?’ By this point, I have tears running down my face, but I don’t know what she actually wants to discuss. I simply cry for the fact that she likes it – whether or not it leads to anything.
At the moment, I’m still absorbed in teaching and in India. I have been ever since I took on this job. Occasionally, over the past 4 months, I’ve had short and intense panic attacks, whenever I’d think about the book I’ve written and that’s waiting to be published. Being here, in this teaching situation, has often made me feel bad for ‘neglecting’ the process of publishing. I’d feel guilty for the fact that the teaching has taken-over and that I wasn’t actively searching for a means through which I could get the book to the reader.
In October, when I had free time, I had a notion to set-up my own website so as to publish the book myself. That was during my time in Chennai. I worked hard to suss out what I needed to do and was eager to set things in motion… I was so desperate to share my story. After Chennai, what I’d hoped to do… I was unable. I’d hoped that I could teach daily and work on self-publishing in my spare time. But that never happened… Lack of time, lack of internet connection and, more importantly, lack of physical energy. I also felt it a shame to be diving into a world of books, when there was a whole different world to explore just outside Lekha’s back door. So I accepted the fact that I had chosen to teach and that I was only able to do so much. I’ve learned that when we try to focus on too many different tasks and jobs at one, the work we then do in all areas will never receive the right amount of energy and the quality will never be as high as when we put attention only on one task at a time. So I distanced myself from the job I’d put upon myself; self-publishing and I worked as hard as I could to teach the kids some English and to teach myself some teaching skills. All was working great… and it’s still ongoing.
But something changed as a result of a connection that seemed insignificant at the time. On one day back in early December, when I was teaching in Sasthavattom, I checked my email and received a message from Julie, a close family friend from back home. She told me about a publisher she’d personally met. She’d spoken to her about the book I’d written and this lady was interested in such stories. So Julie sent her contact details to me in that one very ‘insignificant’ email.
When I first read the email, I was startled… because I hadn’t actually considered approaching publishers, as I was going to (eventually, when time, energy and internet connection would permit) do the work myself. Also I was startled to think that on the other side of the world, close friends and family still remembered that I’d written a book and still supported my dream and my passion so much. Because here, in this environment, nobody has a clue of my passion (or they may know that I write, but have no idea how much it means to me) nor do they have a clue of my past… Here in my ‘little Indian bubble’ I’ve often forgotten just how much work I once put into writing that book… Except for days when the little panic attacks would hit and I’d be struck by a bout of desperation to get the book on the shelves NOW… then I’d be at a loss as to what to do… whilst being ‘stuck in my Indian bubble’. I had no clue how I’d get it out there…
So on that day when I got the email, I was startled, then excited and anxious. There wasn’t really anybody I could share this news with. Because, as I said, nobody really knew. In my mind I was racing ahead, thinking of where this new, and oh so random, connection could lead. But, as well, after learning from previous rejections by other publishers, I knew the chances of her liking it, were ever so tiny. And if she WERE to like it, the odds of her actually publishing it, were even slimmer. So I tried not to get my hopes up when I emailed the manuscript, after being so tempted to edit the whole thing just one more time or to at least read it, scrutinize it and scrap some ‘not so strong parts’. Thankfully I resisted temptation and trusted that if she was going to like the story, some editing wouldn’t stop her from wanting to work with it. So I attached it, wished it well and didn’t expect to be bedazzled at anytime in the near future. This all happened around 2 weeks before Christmas.
Then, 3 weeks into the new year, sitting in the internet café in Kayamkulam, this is what happens: I open my email and there’s one in particular that gives me flutters in my stomach. It’s from this lady, the publisher. At first I’m a little apprehensive to open it… but… I have to know what her thoughts are, even if she’s going to disregard it… I tell myself not to be struck down or disheartened by her rejection; it’s nothing personal, everyone will have a different opinion and all publishers and agencies are searching for a certain type of writer… it’s all part of the tough book publishing world.
However, fear shouldn’t be near! Because, there it is… for the first time since writing the book, I receive positive feed-back from somebody other than my family… Yes yes yes! Finally, some happy words about my book! She’s positive, she likes it a lot and feels it has a good flow and a sincere message to spread. The comment blows me away… and it’s followed by: ‘can we chat on skype?’ By this point, I have tears running down my face, but I don’t know what she actually wants to discuss. I simply cry for the fact that she likes it – whether or not it leads to anything.
Friday, January 20, 2012
What India can do - 2
But food isn’t the only topic. The other one is talking about how much I enjoy Kerala. Everyone wants to hear only praise about this southern state (I guess every person in the world is proud of where they’re from and will only want to hear outsiders speak highly of it). And the praise they wish to receive regarding Kerala is not only about the beauty of its nature, but also about the food (because it differs so much from the rest of India). So I give them the praise they wish to receive, because, even if I’m complaining a little, this place DOES deserve it. Really… and the sooner my time comes to leave, the more I’m seeing how gorgeous it is, how bright, green and light… Also the thought that in 4 weeks time I won’t have the regular taste of coconut in just about every dish I eat, saddens me a little. So I happily praise Kerala for its nature and food…
Besides being interested in food and Kerala, they’re so eager to find out my fathers name…! Hummm… sweet that they want to know this, but what does it matter what my fathers name is??? If I tell them Jacob, Anthony, Peter or (his actual name) Gerry… what difference does it make! They’ll still say: “wouw… how nice!” This just proves their innocence I guess. Then, after hearing his name, they want to know my mothers name, how many brothers and sisters I have, and what they are all doing… To make things less complicated and not to startle most people (about the fact that my sisters are living together with men and have babies, but AREN’T married) I tell them that all my sisters are married with beautiful children. And that always leads to them wondering (and sometimes looking at me in horror): ‘so…. If you’re sisters are all married, what on earth are you doing here in India, unmarried and ALONE at the age of 28??!!!!! Niamh, you must be so unhappy!’ (a few weeks ago I was even told I was an old spinster!!!!!) But I smile to it all and tell them I’m happy to be alone… and when I talk of how much I love to be in India and I love the food, they are relieved again… so the horror vanishes and a smile reappears.
Man oh man… the Indian ways can be so funny. If I’m on top of life, I smile at it all, and happily repeat the answers I’ve already spoken for the 100th time. But if I’m not full of the right amount of energy, I answer in a way that will keep the conversation brief and deep down I give sup and sigh… Oops! I don’t mean to offend anybody, by saying this but I’m just being totally honest here. Because it can be tiring at the best of times. Does it mean I think less of every inquisitive person I come across (which is actually every person)? No way! I probably appreciate them for it; they only want to get to know me. The ‘problem’ is that I can’t always give to them what they want and when I sup and sigh deep down, I know I’m in need of some kind of a break; either a break from being seen as the foreigner or a break from India. I’m not too sure.
I guess the reason I sup and sigh is because there’s no balance between real conversation and superficial talk about Indian food, my fathers name and my unmarried status. The only time I get to use my voice is to give my classes OR to answer such questions. So… this is what I’m lacking; a balance in the different ways we can communicate. The emails have been my saving grace, just like this blog, just like my journal – it gives me expression. But, no matter how much I love writing, sometimes a person needs to actually speak. And last night, speaking so freely, made a huge difference. To actually hear myself saying the words I’ve been writing about over and over again, was quite confronting and refreshing, all at once. It reconnects me with me, and with home, strangely enough… I’ll probably be doing it again soon! Yay! (how ‘sad’ that I’m excited by such little things…haha)
So, on that note, I’ll just add these freaky fleeting moments I’ve been having. On occasions I’ve looked at my hands and my arms and actually have been shocked by the whiteness of my skin. Sometimes I forget my skin colour is so different from those around me. I’m not an Indian, but I’m learning that the longer I surround myself only by Indians, the more I can feel to become one!!! Hahaha… But no… I’ve simply been absorbed in this lifestyle, and I’m grateful for it all, but now I’m coming out of it, slowly… Because the road is open and the world is at my dirty feet (with their black souls that I cannot properly - because of teaching in my bare feet everyday… it’s always nice to feel the earth beneath me, but tricky to keep them shining ‘white’…).
Either way, all is well, as you can clearly tell. A lot is happening and time is moving, as will I, shortly. I don’t know where just yet. Will keep you updated!
Besides being interested in food and Kerala, they’re so eager to find out my fathers name…! Hummm… sweet that they want to know this, but what does it matter what my fathers name is??? If I tell them Jacob, Anthony, Peter or (his actual name) Gerry… what difference does it make! They’ll still say: “wouw… how nice!” This just proves their innocence I guess. Then, after hearing his name, they want to know my mothers name, how many brothers and sisters I have, and what they are all doing… To make things less complicated and not to startle most people (about the fact that my sisters are living together with men and have babies, but AREN’T married) I tell them that all my sisters are married with beautiful children. And that always leads to them wondering (and sometimes looking at me in horror): ‘so…. If you’re sisters are all married, what on earth are you doing here in India, unmarried and ALONE at the age of 28??!!!!! Niamh, you must be so unhappy!’ (a few weeks ago I was even told I was an old spinster!!!!!) But I smile to it all and tell them I’m happy to be alone… and when I talk of how much I love to be in India and I love the food, they are relieved again… so the horror vanishes and a smile reappears.
Man oh man… the Indian ways can be so funny. If I’m on top of life, I smile at it all, and happily repeat the answers I’ve already spoken for the 100th time. But if I’m not full of the right amount of energy, I answer in a way that will keep the conversation brief and deep down I give sup and sigh… Oops! I don’t mean to offend anybody, by saying this but I’m just being totally honest here. Because it can be tiring at the best of times. Does it mean I think less of every inquisitive person I come across (which is actually every person)? No way! I probably appreciate them for it; they only want to get to know me. The ‘problem’ is that I can’t always give to them what they want and when I sup and sigh deep down, I know I’m in need of some kind of a break; either a break from being seen as the foreigner or a break from India. I’m not too sure.
I guess the reason I sup and sigh is because there’s no balance between real conversation and superficial talk about Indian food, my fathers name and my unmarried status. The only time I get to use my voice is to give my classes OR to answer such questions. So… this is what I’m lacking; a balance in the different ways we can communicate. The emails have been my saving grace, just like this blog, just like my journal – it gives me expression. But, no matter how much I love writing, sometimes a person needs to actually speak. And last night, speaking so freely, made a huge difference. To actually hear myself saying the words I’ve been writing about over and over again, was quite confronting and refreshing, all at once. It reconnects me with me, and with home, strangely enough… I’ll probably be doing it again soon! Yay! (how ‘sad’ that I’m excited by such little things…haha)
So, on that note, I’ll just add these freaky fleeting moments I’ve been having. On occasions I’ve looked at my hands and my arms and actually have been shocked by the whiteness of my skin. Sometimes I forget my skin colour is so different from those around me. I’m not an Indian, but I’m learning that the longer I surround myself only by Indians, the more I can feel to become one!!! Hahaha… But no… I’ve simply been absorbed in this lifestyle, and I’m grateful for it all, but now I’m coming out of it, slowly… Because the road is open and the world is at my dirty feet (with their black souls that I cannot properly - because of teaching in my bare feet everyday… it’s always nice to feel the earth beneath me, but tricky to keep them shining ‘white’…).
Either way, all is well, as you can clearly tell. A lot is happening and time is moving, as will I, shortly. I don’t know where just yet. Will keep you updated!
What India can do - 1
Last night, probably out of desperation (and totally unplanned) I was sitting in my hostel room and took out my camera and started filming. There’s nothing really exciting to see in my room, but I started anyhow. To make it more exciting, I started talking… and talking… and talking… Once I started, I couldn’t stop and before I knew it, I was having a full blown heart-to-heart with myself and the camera. I could have gone on and on for hours… but suddenly the camera blacked-out after 25 minutes… It just stopped and started beeping… and it said on the screen: battery EXHAUSTED! It was quite a funny moment: my talking had exhausted the camera… the battery didn’t simply need recharging… nope, it needed to recuperate…
Anyhow, this little event was a first for me. I’ve never sat and chatted to a camera, for no apparent reason, without having anything exciting going on around me. But it was probably out of desperation to talk freely. Over the past weeks I’ve been struggling with the lack of flowing and fluent conversations I can engage in, with the people around me. It’s almost impossible. Of course I talk… but most times I have to hold back, because they won’t understand… They either won’t understand my literal language – if I talk freely and flowingly – or they won’t understand what I mean. There are 2 different types of understanding when it comes to communicating. And with the daily connections I have, the conversations will be missing 1,5 of the understanding I ‘need’ from the listener if I wish to connect with this person or simply express myself, my thoughts, my days, my feelings.
I also realized that it’s been since the end of September since I’ve sat face-to-face with a western person who understands me fully. To speak without having to adjust my speech, is what I needed last night when I turned on the camera. And I did. Wouw… it was so nice. I could hear my voice, as though it was on the radio. I could hear my Irish accent, which I’ve had to lighten quite a bit, since teaching (they’d never understand me if I were to go into class speaking in a ‘broad’ Arklow accent – not that my accent was ever that broad… but you get my drift).
Anyhow, I was speaking freely and it was so nice. It was only babble babble babble… nothing of much significance, but it made me open up again. Because in my speech I’ve been limited. For weeks, or months even, I’ve only been speaking the same things over and over again to those around me (except for when I was living with Lekha, she was the only one I could speak freely with). People I meet in the street and teachers will ask the same questions all the time, because it’s the foundation of their English communication skills. And so, conversing has been mostly about what I’ve eaten today and yesterday… this will sound so ridiculous, I know, but it’s truly the main topic Indians can speak about and are interested in hearing when they come across a foreigner… And I must admit I’m tired of telling people what has passed through my stomach, EVERYDAY, at least 10 times over…even if they mean so well. I know it’s the Indian way, it’s their caring which is expressed mainly through the amount of food they can offer you and the amount that you can consume.
Anyhow, this little event was a first for me. I’ve never sat and chatted to a camera, for no apparent reason, without having anything exciting going on around me. But it was probably out of desperation to talk freely. Over the past weeks I’ve been struggling with the lack of flowing and fluent conversations I can engage in, with the people around me. It’s almost impossible. Of course I talk… but most times I have to hold back, because they won’t understand… They either won’t understand my literal language – if I talk freely and flowingly – or they won’t understand what I mean. There are 2 different types of understanding when it comes to communicating. And with the daily connections I have, the conversations will be missing 1,5 of the understanding I ‘need’ from the listener if I wish to connect with this person or simply express myself, my thoughts, my days, my feelings.
I also realized that it’s been since the end of September since I’ve sat face-to-face with a western person who understands me fully. To speak without having to adjust my speech, is what I needed last night when I turned on the camera. And I did. Wouw… it was so nice. I could hear my voice, as though it was on the radio. I could hear my Irish accent, which I’ve had to lighten quite a bit, since teaching (they’d never understand me if I were to go into class speaking in a ‘broad’ Arklow accent – not that my accent was ever that broad… but you get my drift).
Anyhow, I was speaking freely and it was so nice. It was only babble babble babble… nothing of much significance, but it made me open up again. Because in my speech I’ve been limited. For weeks, or months even, I’ve only been speaking the same things over and over again to those around me (except for when I was living with Lekha, she was the only one I could speak freely with). People I meet in the street and teachers will ask the same questions all the time, because it’s the foundation of their English communication skills. And so, conversing has been mostly about what I’ve eaten today and yesterday… this will sound so ridiculous, I know, but it’s truly the main topic Indians can speak about and are interested in hearing when they come across a foreigner… And I must admit I’m tired of telling people what has passed through my stomach, EVERYDAY, at least 10 times over…even if they mean so well. I know it’s the Indian way, it’s their caring which is expressed mainly through the amount of food they can offer you and the amount that you can consume.
My rant on the weather
Wednesday the 18th. It’s an unexpected strike today. The Indians have once again managed to find a legitimate reason for bringing life to a standstill for 24 hours, just to prove a point; the people of Kerala are disagreeing with something or other… so the strike means everything is closed; buses aren’t running, shops are shut and schools are closed. No school and all are happy; students are delighted and teachers are feeling lighter. As for me, it doesn’t make too much of a difference one way or another.
January is flying by. Sometimes I totally loose track of what month it actually is. And it’s hard to think of people experiencing the ‘normal January blues’ at home; the majority will be wishing for the Spring to arrive, waiting for the brighter days and projecting their visions into February… the shortest month that will fly by and promptly bring on the Spring. At this moment, I don’t think I could be experiencing anything more different from that world back at home or in Europe. I guess now that I’m nearing the end of my visa, I’m seeing this place even brighter and lighter than before, it’s feeling it to be warmer in many different ways.
Touching the subject of ‘warmth’ opens up a topic. The Keralites (who are the citizens of this state) say it’s winter right now. That’s fine. I can agree with the fact that January is one of the months of Winter. But what gets me is that they claim it’s so cold and that we’ve experienced a big ‘climate-change’ (which is also apparently the reason for so many students and teachers to have had the flu over the past months, of which I was one). If this talk I’ve been hearing around me is anything to go by, I’d have sworn the temperature had dropped by 20 degrees in the space of a few weeks! This really isn’t what I experienced. To me, this ‘climate change’ was so subtle that I hardly noticed it at all and had to laugh when they were complaining about this ‘huge’ difference and the ‘cold’ winter we’re having!
I’ll clarify: in October it was hot and humid, all the time… above 30 degrees. Then in November the rain came and the nights and early mornings were cooler (maybe by 5 degrees), but the days were still warm, with temperatures in the high twenties (I’m sounding like a weather reporter here!) Anyhow, this instability lasted up until the end of December. And now there’s no more rain, but the nights and early mornings are still ‘cool’… (it never drops below 20 degrees) and the days are still soaring around 30 degrees. The climate is more stable. And those around me say it’s winter and it’s cold.
Hummmmm… Not too sure about that… because I still sweat buckets when I’m teaching in the 30 degree heat, I still use the fan in the evenings before sleep, I still wish for an umbrella when I walk in the afternoon sun after finishing school (I haven’t purchased one for some unknown reason…) and I still fear what the short ride to school in the commodore does to my skin, because of the sun beating down on untainted windows. So… this is Winter… The people here have no idea how lucky they are… they most likely would shrivel if they were placed in Ireland, or anywhere else for that matter where a ‘real winter’ can be experienced. Ah no… I know it’s not fair of me to talk like this, and I’m well aware that the labels we give to our surroundings are based on our own personal experiences and memories… But I still needed to let this out…
And I’ll just add that this little rant probably has done my country of origin proud… because the Irish will always talk and complain about the weather… oops… sorry to offend… but it’s true… Hummmm… then again I think people do it everywhere in the world, because here in the south of India they’re complaining too! The conclusion of my little rant: the majority is never happy with the climate; it will always be too hot, too cold, too sunny, too cloudy, too wet, too windy… no matter where the person is AND what a persons interprets as warm in one part of the world will never be the same as what another person elsewhere interprets as being warm… Right, enough reportings and complaints about the weather from this end… Because I DO have more interesting things to share
January is flying by. Sometimes I totally loose track of what month it actually is. And it’s hard to think of people experiencing the ‘normal January blues’ at home; the majority will be wishing for the Spring to arrive, waiting for the brighter days and projecting their visions into February… the shortest month that will fly by and promptly bring on the Spring. At this moment, I don’t think I could be experiencing anything more different from that world back at home or in Europe. I guess now that I’m nearing the end of my visa, I’m seeing this place even brighter and lighter than before, it’s feeling it to be warmer in many different ways.
Touching the subject of ‘warmth’ opens up a topic. The Keralites (who are the citizens of this state) say it’s winter right now. That’s fine. I can agree with the fact that January is one of the months of Winter. But what gets me is that they claim it’s so cold and that we’ve experienced a big ‘climate-change’ (which is also apparently the reason for so many students and teachers to have had the flu over the past months, of which I was one). If this talk I’ve been hearing around me is anything to go by, I’d have sworn the temperature had dropped by 20 degrees in the space of a few weeks! This really isn’t what I experienced. To me, this ‘climate change’ was so subtle that I hardly noticed it at all and had to laugh when they were complaining about this ‘huge’ difference and the ‘cold’ winter we’re having!
I’ll clarify: in October it was hot and humid, all the time… above 30 degrees. Then in November the rain came and the nights and early mornings were cooler (maybe by 5 degrees), but the days were still warm, with temperatures in the high twenties (I’m sounding like a weather reporter here!) Anyhow, this instability lasted up until the end of December. And now there’s no more rain, but the nights and early mornings are still ‘cool’… (it never drops below 20 degrees) and the days are still soaring around 30 degrees. The climate is more stable. And those around me say it’s winter and it’s cold.
Hummmmm… Not too sure about that… because I still sweat buckets when I’m teaching in the 30 degree heat, I still use the fan in the evenings before sleep, I still wish for an umbrella when I walk in the afternoon sun after finishing school (I haven’t purchased one for some unknown reason…) and I still fear what the short ride to school in the commodore does to my skin, because of the sun beating down on untainted windows. So… this is Winter… The people here have no idea how lucky they are… they most likely would shrivel if they were placed in Ireland, or anywhere else for that matter where a ‘real winter’ can be experienced. Ah no… I know it’s not fair of me to talk like this, and I’m well aware that the labels we give to our surroundings are based on our own personal experiences and memories… But I still needed to let this out…
And I’ll just add that this little rant probably has done my country of origin proud… because the Irish will always talk and complain about the weather… oops… sorry to offend… but it’s true… Hummmm… then again I think people do it everywhere in the world, because here in the south of India they’re complaining too! The conclusion of my little rant: the majority is never happy with the climate; it will always be too hot, too cold, too sunny, too cloudy, too wet, too windy… no matter where the person is AND what a persons interprets as warm in one part of the world will never be the same as what another person elsewhere interprets as being warm… Right, enough reportings and complaints about the weather from this end… Because I DO have more interesting things to share
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Unexpected cremation 2
After I walked away, of course I was instantly comparing cremations and funerals in the east to those in the west. And I couldn’t get over how open and normal it feels here. At home it’s dark, gloomy, depressing. But here, as I was looking around at the faces - there were people simply chatting, smiling even… (no laughter of course) but it all seemed fine. Many would say, it’s disrespectful smile when such has tragedy has only just taken place. But here it’s probably more appreciated than anything else. At home, if people are to smile anywhere near a funeral, they’re easily considered heartless. I didn’t feel I had to put a sad face on… (of course that face inevitably came when I was near the body, but once I stepped away, I didn’t feel I had to keep a frown on my face) even when saying goodbye to Unnithan sir. Maybe it’s the difference in religion… I don’t know… but I felt that he, and his children, would appreciate a smile of encouragement instead of a frown of misery, when I went on my way.
So I left after the rituals had taken place. I only stayed for 45 minutes. I knew what was going to happen pretty soon after leaving, and that was something I didn’t need or want to see. The cremation itself. And this is the thing that DID throw me: having the cremation in the very same spot – 3 meters from the back door of the house. Wouw… I couldn’t believe it. There was a pile of wood stacked high, just beside her body, waiting to be put on the fire that her son was going to light. This is all apart of their traditions… having the person cremated in the garden, close to the house, so the spirit remains with the family. Then the ashes and bones are gathered after a certain amount of days and for a whole year the family will bless the remainings each day before they’re finally sent out to sea.
The thought of the son having to light the fire – was a little hard for me to swallow. I never knew any of this… So I couldn’t help but constantly compare it to home… we see nothing of the cremations and we do our best not to think of what will happen to the body. And here, it’s so open… simply disposing of a carcass that held her mind and her soul for 60 years.
After leaving, and arriving back at the hostel, I thought I’d be quite upset about the whole thing… but I was nothing of the kind. I was actually relieved, happy and at peace. To see a body with no life made me feel safe, it didn’t fill me with fear. It made me feel blessed. Why? Because I realized suddenly how fragile and precious life is and that it’s a gift to have it, right here and now. I was feeling so intensely that this is the only time we have. Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring… And because of this uncertainty, I now know I have follow certain things through in my life, things that my mind tells me are ‘undoable’ and ‘out of reach’. My mind tells me it’s best to forget them. But why should I? Life is way too short… I have to at least try what it my heart is telling me to do, whether or not my mind fills me with lies stating I can’t do these things and that I’m doomed to fail. I know I’ll be a bigger failure if I don’t give these things a go, especially now that I’m so close. Because, yes, I find myself at a crossroads on the journey and this happening on Sunday was a huge lesson… and I obviously needed it, to choose what turning to take in the most focussed way with as little effort as possible. I’ll let this set for now and continue later. Thank you for reading.
So I left after the rituals had taken place. I only stayed for 45 minutes. I knew what was going to happen pretty soon after leaving, and that was something I didn’t need or want to see. The cremation itself. And this is the thing that DID throw me: having the cremation in the very same spot – 3 meters from the back door of the house. Wouw… I couldn’t believe it. There was a pile of wood stacked high, just beside her body, waiting to be put on the fire that her son was going to light. This is all apart of their traditions… having the person cremated in the garden, close to the house, so the spirit remains with the family. Then the ashes and bones are gathered after a certain amount of days and for a whole year the family will bless the remainings each day before they’re finally sent out to sea.
The thought of the son having to light the fire – was a little hard for me to swallow. I never knew any of this… So I couldn’t help but constantly compare it to home… we see nothing of the cremations and we do our best not to think of what will happen to the body. And here, it’s so open… simply disposing of a carcass that held her mind and her soul for 60 years.
After leaving, and arriving back at the hostel, I thought I’d be quite upset about the whole thing… but I was nothing of the kind. I was actually relieved, happy and at peace. To see a body with no life made me feel safe, it didn’t fill me with fear. It made me feel blessed. Why? Because I realized suddenly how fragile and precious life is and that it’s a gift to have it, right here and now. I was feeling so intensely that this is the only time we have. Nobody knows what tomorrow will bring… And because of this uncertainty, I now know I have follow certain things through in my life, things that my mind tells me are ‘undoable’ and ‘out of reach’. My mind tells me it’s best to forget them. But why should I? Life is way too short… I have to at least try what it my heart is telling me to do, whether or not my mind fills me with lies stating I can’t do these things and that I’m doomed to fail. I know I’ll be a bigger failure if I don’t give these things a go, especially now that I’m so close. Because, yes, I find myself at a crossroads on the journey and this happening on Sunday was a huge lesson… and I obviously needed it, to choose what turning to take in the most focussed way with as little effort as possible. I’ll let this set for now and continue later. Thank you for reading.
Unexpected cremation 1
This is something I just need to write about, before it slips away unrecorded…
Early Sunday morning I got news from the head mistress at school that the wife of a senior staff member (Unnithan sir) had passed away on Saturday. So to pay my respects to him and his wife, I said I would ‘stop by’ for the funeral/cremation on Sunday afternoon. It was quite a change in atmosphere, after just arriving back from the annual day celebrations. But I wanted to go. Even though I’d only ever had brief connections with Unnithan sir, I highly appreciate and respect him.
So, Sunday afternoon I suddenly found myself standing with maybe 100 others, around the corps of a lady I’d met only once. It was the strangest thing. The rituals are ones I’ve only ever read about, never actually seen in action – until Sunday.
I’ll paint a picture of what was going on. The ceremony, followed by the cremation, took place at his house. Only 3 meters from the backdoor, her body was wrapped in bright orange cloth. The scene around the body resembled very much the same as those back home in graveyards. But the feel was totally different, as was the setting (of course). Here, nothing felt grey or dull… nobody was dressed in black, there was no rain, there were no clouds. I felt the atmosphere sad, but not depressing. There was no hole in the ground, there was no priest… It was all so… what’s the word I’m looking for… special and warm and bright.
The sons and grandchildren were the ones performing the rituals and giving her a special send-off. There aren’t any blessings spoken, it’s only performed. For example, her grandchildren put rice and milk on her mouth – so that she’s well-fed before her journey onwards. Also bright pink flowers - that had all received blessings from relatives and close friends - were sprinkled on her bright orange ‘wrapping’.
For me, this was only the 2nd body I’d ever seen, without life inside. At first I was reluctant to go close. But then – just after she had been given her last portion of rice and her last drops of milk by her grandchildren - one of the staff members from school said I could give her my blessings, it was like I’d been given permission… What a strange thing… me… a foreigner – not of the same religion and not having known this woman at all - was ‘allowed’ or kindly asked to walk around the body and bless her in my own way (with 100 Indians watching (and most likely judging) how the only foreigner was going to bless her farewell). I said no at first. But then, the way in which I was asked to go near her, even if it was just to look at her face, was so friendly and warm and open. Almost like they wanted me to see her, to bless her and not be afraid. It’s all very hard to put into words. But everything felt to be the most natural and special thing in the world.
So I walked up and saw her face, with bits of rice sprinkled on her mouth. And I felt so…. What’s the word… I felt so at peace to see her like that. I know she had suffered from cancer before passing and I could feel something so calm around the whole scene – even with the sadness of her family being so near.
Early Sunday morning I got news from the head mistress at school that the wife of a senior staff member (Unnithan sir) had passed away on Saturday. So to pay my respects to him and his wife, I said I would ‘stop by’ for the funeral/cremation on Sunday afternoon. It was quite a change in atmosphere, after just arriving back from the annual day celebrations. But I wanted to go. Even though I’d only ever had brief connections with Unnithan sir, I highly appreciate and respect him.
So, Sunday afternoon I suddenly found myself standing with maybe 100 others, around the corps of a lady I’d met only once. It was the strangest thing. The rituals are ones I’ve only ever read about, never actually seen in action – until Sunday.
I’ll paint a picture of what was going on. The ceremony, followed by the cremation, took place at his house. Only 3 meters from the backdoor, her body was wrapped in bright orange cloth. The scene around the body resembled very much the same as those back home in graveyards. But the feel was totally different, as was the setting (of course). Here, nothing felt grey or dull… nobody was dressed in black, there was no rain, there were no clouds. I felt the atmosphere sad, but not depressing. There was no hole in the ground, there was no priest… It was all so… what’s the word I’m looking for… special and warm and bright.
The sons and grandchildren were the ones performing the rituals and giving her a special send-off. There aren’t any blessings spoken, it’s only performed. For example, her grandchildren put rice and milk on her mouth – so that she’s well-fed before her journey onwards. Also bright pink flowers - that had all received blessings from relatives and close friends - were sprinkled on her bright orange ‘wrapping’.
For me, this was only the 2nd body I’d ever seen, without life inside. At first I was reluctant to go close. But then – just after she had been given her last portion of rice and her last drops of milk by her grandchildren - one of the staff members from school said I could give her my blessings, it was like I’d been given permission… What a strange thing… me… a foreigner – not of the same religion and not having known this woman at all - was ‘allowed’ or kindly asked to walk around the body and bless her in my own way (with 100 Indians watching (and most likely judging) how the only foreigner was going to bless her farewell). I said no at first. But then, the way in which I was asked to go near her, even if it was just to look at her face, was so friendly and warm and open. Almost like they wanted me to see her, to bless her and not be afraid. It’s all very hard to put into words. But everything felt to be the most natural and special thing in the world.
So I walked up and saw her face, with bits of rice sprinkled on her mouth. And I felt so…. What’s the word… I felt so at peace to see her like that. I know she had suffered from cancer before passing and I could feel something so calm around the whole scene – even with the sadness of her family being so near.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Annual day Mayhem 1
Saturday the 7th was the big day. The day I’d been working towards, since the end of October. Preparing, stressing, worrying, practicing and doing arts and crafts like never before… and finally the day arrived: Annual day!
I went back to the school in Sasthavattom on Friday (the 6th). I didn’t really want to go back for the festival. I don’t know why… it actually all felt like so much effort… ooops! Anyhow, I had to get on with it, whether I wanted to go back or not. Because my 4 ‘performances’ needed me - or so I was told by the teachers at the school who were eagerly waiting for me to come back.
Arriving at the school was everything I didn’t expect it to be. Once I got out of the rickshaw and walked towards the office, the kids all came running out of the classrooms, shouting my name, giving me hugs and telling me how much they’d missed me. They were handing me cards and pictures they’d been making for me… Man oh man. I never expected that at all. Quite overwhelming… I’d only been gone for 3 weeks! I guess I never realized how much they really DID want me back… or didn’t want me to leave in the first place.
This was on Friday. That was purely a day of rehearsals. I thought I'd be stressed out to get everything set for the following day. But I took off all the pressure and decided I wasn’t going to be pushing the kids anymore, for any kind of perfection in their performances. I’d done all I could, before leaving and however they now were performing and acting, was as it was going to be on the day – whether it pleased me or not. But they were doing brilliant! I could see during rehearsals that all the kids I’d been working closely with during my 2 months, had continued to work hard, whilst I was gone. They probably still remembered how much I’d been pushing them before I left… and how hard they had to work to please me… oops! But, then again, I mustn’t have been that bad or else they wouldn’t have welcomed me back with open arms.
Anyhow, enough about that… Saturday itself was many things… exciting, stressful, fun, long, tiring, and, most importantly, a day I’ll never forget. The show started at 3pm Indian time – meaning 4pm normal time (Indians are the worst time-keepers I’ve ever come across) and it went on until 9pm… 5 hours of speeches, dance acts, singing performances, demonstrations and (my) dramas. I didn’t get to see any of the other performances because I was either back stage, or on the stage itself, or announcing on the mic.
The mayhem around it all was huge… but the 1000 people in the audience (hopefully) didn't realize the chaos. To paint a picture of the commotion that was going on back backstage - as the show was in full-swing: 250 students spread out over only a few classrooms, all sorting their own costumes (but of course needing the teacher to do it for them), all in need of make-up, all as excited and nervous as can be and just as stressed as the teachers. Trying to keep them nicely contained was almost impossible, even with nearly 20 teachers to do the job. But it all worked out brilliantly.
I’ve never played such part in a show like that before. And to be honest, there were times when I thought all the work I’d put in over 2 months, was going to be in aid of very little… especially when last minute things didn’t fall into place easily and the audience of nearly 1000 people were sitting in their seats eagerly waiting for the curtains to rise and for their own little child to appear being the brightest little star of the school. Hummm… is it any wonder I was quite stressed at times and that when the stage manager would shout the question: ‘Niamh, is your act ready to go’, the only thing I could reply was ‘no’… (which had to be a ‘yes’… whether they my little stars were ready or not). Needless to say, my first 3 acts stressed me out to the max, and what made it worse was that I was participating too. This only meant I had more work. But things happened and it appeared all so smoothly to the audience… in the end, that’s what it’s all about.
I went back to the school in Sasthavattom on Friday (the 6th). I didn’t really want to go back for the festival. I don’t know why… it actually all felt like so much effort… ooops! Anyhow, I had to get on with it, whether I wanted to go back or not. Because my 4 ‘performances’ needed me - or so I was told by the teachers at the school who were eagerly waiting for me to come back.
Arriving at the school was everything I didn’t expect it to be. Once I got out of the rickshaw and walked towards the office, the kids all came running out of the classrooms, shouting my name, giving me hugs and telling me how much they’d missed me. They were handing me cards and pictures they’d been making for me… Man oh man. I never expected that at all. Quite overwhelming… I’d only been gone for 3 weeks! I guess I never realized how much they really DID want me back… or didn’t want me to leave in the first place.
This was on Friday. That was purely a day of rehearsals. I thought I'd be stressed out to get everything set for the following day. But I took off all the pressure and decided I wasn’t going to be pushing the kids anymore, for any kind of perfection in their performances. I’d done all I could, before leaving and however they now were performing and acting, was as it was going to be on the day – whether it pleased me or not. But they were doing brilliant! I could see during rehearsals that all the kids I’d been working closely with during my 2 months, had continued to work hard, whilst I was gone. They probably still remembered how much I’d been pushing them before I left… and how hard they had to work to please me… oops! But, then again, I mustn’t have been that bad or else they wouldn’t have welcomed me back with open arms.
Anyhow, enough about that… Saturday itself was many things… exciting, stressful, fun, long, tiring, and, most importantly, a day I’ll never forget. The show started at 3pm Indian time – meaning 4pm normal time (Indians are the worst time-keepers I’ve ever come across) and it went on until 9pm… 5 hours of speeches, dance acts, singing performances, demonstrations and (my) dramas. I didn’t get to see any of the other performances because I was either back stage, or on the stage itself, or announcing on the mic.
The mayhem around it all was huge… but the 1000 people in the audience (hopefully) didn't realize the chaos. To paint a picture of the commotion that was going on back backstage - as the show was in full-swing: 250 students spread out over only a few classrooms, all sorting their own costumes (but of course needing the teacher to do it for them), all in need of make-up, all as excited and nervous as can be and just as stressed as the teachers. Trying to keep them nicely contained was almost impossible, even with nearly 20 teachers to do the job. But it all worked out brilliantly.
I’ve never played such part in a show like that before. And to be honest, there were times when I thought all the work I’d put in over 2 months, was going to be in aid of very little… especially when last minute things didn’t fall into place easily and the audience of nearly 1000 people were sitting in their seats eagerly waiting for the curtains to rise and for their own little child to appear being the brightest little star of the school. Hummm… is it any wonder I was quite stressed at times and that when the stage manager would shout the question: ‘Niamh, is your act ready to go’, the only thing I could reply was ‘no’… (which had to be a ‘yes’… whether they my little stars were ready or not). Needless to say, my first 3 acts stressed me out to the max, and what made it worse was that I was participating too. This only meant I had more work. But things happened and it appeared all so smoothly to the audience… in the end, that’s what it’s all about.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
The art of planning and travels
Making plans though, can be tough. I’ve told myself so many times, they shouldn’t be made, I don’t need them, and I can flow with life going from one place to the next, from one experience to the next. To travel so freely… isn’t that what life is all about? Well, I’ve learned that we can go with the flow… to a certain extent. But, no, it’s not only what life is about.
I know of travelers, and am quite close to some, who will always go with the flow. They DO plan, but the plans are always changing. Is this a problem? Not when the traveler doesn’t have to take a lot of practicalities into account – such as work and finances, visiting the family and fulfilling certain ‘duties’ simply for the sake of health and sanity. I’m not a traveler who DOESN’T have to take these things into consideration. Because I DO have to be practical. I DO need to have regular work lined-up… how else can I support myself? And, yes, of course I DO miss my family and I DO need to continuously work on myself, at the same time as giving priority to all these things that are important to me and my life.
I’m continuously reminding myself, as the time to move onwards slowly approaches, that making plans doesn’t have to take away my freedom. But past experiences have proved this to be true; going to China, I planned to stay a year, and was trapped, isolated and miserable (of course I don’t know if that’s because of the contract I had or the actual place and situation). But I’m getting somewhat scared of planning for fear of recreating past experiences. But I have to plan, because I have to move. Also, being practical keeps me in touch with the real world – otherwise I float too much and become disconnected from life. Plans can always change, and that too is fine… I don’t need to feel trapped by making choices and taking action. I don’t need to feel that I’m closing the door to so many other experiences, by giving priority to certain things in life. The things I do and the things that have my priority and therefore are my responsibility, are the things that make me happy… so why would I feel that plans and actions and practicalities will burden me, isolate me and stop me from moving? If anything, they will keep me moving and experiencing. And that’s what I want.
There’s another thing that offers me HUGE relief… the fact that I NO LONGER believe that I must do EVERYTHING NOW… By feeling that everything needs to happen asap, it can be almost impossible to feel a plan or decision is the right one. I’m learning though that this life is a journey that will be ongoing forever… And all the things I love to do in life will always be coming to me, at different times along the way, depending on what I focus on at that particular time. There’s a time and place for everything. And I can’t have and do and be everything all at once. I’ve tried and it doesn’t work!
Looking back on how I’ve been moving, I see that it will continue, if that’s what I want. So the experiences will still be had, they won’t happen all simultaneously… that’s impossible. But by focusing on what I love, they will come to me, eventually. All in due time… I’m only 28… I have all the time IN the world as I keep on moving THROUGH this world. So there’s no rush to do everything and there shouldn’t be any fear that making a decision will be the wrong one. Because, always, things will work out. I’ll always have work, because of being so lucky that I love teaching (even if I’m not properly qualified) and I’ll always have the support of my family, who will never force me to come back – even if they miss me.
You might be catching-on to the fact that, now that I’m at a point where my next 6 weeks are planned and the road after that is open, I’m somewhat afraid of taking the next step wrongly, or of becoming trapped, isolated and miserable. But, like I’ve already stated in this post, nothing will ever be wrong. I can change my plans, if it doesn’t work. Whatever I choose to do or wherever I choose to go, I’ll always have the power to change my circumstances – something I learned in China.
I guess what I’m trying to establish and set straight, once and for all… is that by making plans, I’m not imprisoned. But being a traveler, doesn’t guarantee that every move will be easy or that it will give me a sense of freedom. However the experience itself will always be needed, so as to learn that we CAN be free living, regardless of the country we’re in or the job we’re doing. We’ll also need that experience so we can move on to the next chapter and place – either weeks, months or even years after first arriving in a foreign place.
Man oh man…. All of this rambling, about freedom and travel… I should know by now that I don’t need to be on the move, just to have a free life. But old ways of thinking are hard to fully break away from. And it’s only natural, with the move on the horizon, for the past to be brought to the surface. And that’s fine. I’ll just trust that all is well and I’ll continue trying to put my words into practise as I slowly plan and gradually move onwards.
I know of travelers, and am quite close to some, who will always go with the flow. They DO plan, but the plans are always changing. Is this a problem? Not when the traveler doesn’t have to take a lot of practicalities into account – such as work and finances, visiting the family and fulfilling certain ‘duties’ simply for the sake of health and sanity. I’m not a traveler who DOESN’T have to take these things into consideration. Because I DO have to be practical. I DO need to have regular work lined-up… how else can I support myself? And, yes, of course I DO miss my family and I DO need to continuously work on myself, at the same time as giving priority to all these things that are important to me and my life.
I’m continuously reminding myself, as the time to move onwards slowly approaches, that making plans doesn’t have to take away my freedom. But past experiences have proved this to be true; going to China, I planned to stay a year, and was trapped, isolated and miserable (of course I don’t know if that’s because of the contract I had or the actual place and situation). But I’m getting somewhat scared of planning for fear of recreating past experiences. But I have to plan, because I have to move. Also, being practical keeps me in touch with the real world – otherwise I float too much and become disconnected from life. Plans can always change, and that too is fine… I don’t need to feel trapped by making choices and taking action. I don’t need to feel that I’m closing the door to so many other experiences, by giving priority to certain things in life. The things I do and the things that have my priority and therefore are my responsibility, are the things that make me happy… so why would I feel that plans and actions and practicalities will burden me, isolate me and stop me from moving? If anything, they will keep me moving and experiencing. And that’s what I want.
There’s another thing that offers me HUGE relief… the fact that I NO LONGER believe that I must do EVERYTHING NOW… By feeling that everything needs to happen asap, it can be almost impossible to feel a plan or decision is the right one. I’m learning though that this life is a journey that will be ongoing forever… And all the things I love to do in life will always be coming to me, at different times along the way, depending on what I focus on at that particular time. There’s a time and place for everything. And I can’t have and do and be everything all at once. I’ve tried and it doesn’t work!
Looking back on how I’ve been moving, I see that it will continue, if that’s what I want. So the experiences will still be had, they won’t happen all simultaneously… that’s impossible. But by focusing on what I love, they will come to me, eventually. All in due time… I’m only 28… I have all the time IN the world as I keep on moving THROUGH this world. So there’s no rush to do everything and there shouldn’t be any fear that making a decision will be the wrong one. Because, always, things will work out. I’ll always have work, because of being so lucky that I love teaching (even if I’m not properly qualified) and I’ll always have the support of my family, who will never force me to come back – even if they miss me.
You might be catching-on to the fact that, now that I’m at a point where my next 6 weeks are planned and the road after that is open, I’m somewhat afraid of taking the next step wrongly, or of becoming trapped, isolated and miserable. But, like I’ve already stated in this post, nothing will ever be wrong. I can change my plans, if it doesn’t work. Whatever I choose to do or wherever I choose to go, I’ll always have the power to change my circumstances – something I learned in China.
I guess what I’m trying to establish and set straight, once and for all… is that by making plans, I’m not imprisoned. But being a traveler, doesn’t guarantee that every move will be easy or that it will give me a sense of freedom. However the experience itself will always be needed, so as to learn that we CAN be free living, regardless of the country we’re in or the job we’re doing. We’ll also need that experience so we can move on to the next chapter and place – either weeks, months or even years after first arriving in a foreign place.
Man oh man…. All of this rambling, about freedom and travel… I should know by now that I don’t need to be on the move, just to have a free life. But old ways of thinking are hard to fully break away from. And it’s only natural, with the move on the horizon, for the past to be brought to the surface. And that’s fine. I’ll just trust that all is well and I’ll continue trying to put my words into practise as I slowly plan and gradually move onwards.
Something new
New beginnings. We all say it’s a time for new resolutions. It’s a time to better ourselves as we try doing things that will make out lives happier. But, I’m not going to suddenly start changing my ways. I’ve already been doing that and so I’m going to continue as I was before, always trying to learn life’s lessons, no matter what time of year it may be. It should always be a time to be conscious of how we live and of the reasons for our actions and the changes we wish to make and then to follow them through.
So, on that note… it’s January 1st. Is it a coincidence that from tomorrow onwards a new chapter starts for me? It’s the start of my ‘proper’ classes in Kayamkulam school. For the past 2 weeks, yes I’ve been teaching, but it was only to the small groups and the weaker students, also I’ve only been there for half days and simply warming up, meeting the kids and getting into the swing of things. From tomorrow onwards, a routine will start. I’ll be there full-time (6 days a week) with a proper schedule and I’ll be apart of the school – even if it is only for 6 weeks.
I’m happy to be here. I’ve settled into this spacious hostel – after having some ‘starting problems’ that became the cause of some mental turmoil. But hey-ho, I’m stable again and my health is back on track. So I’m willing to make the next 6 weeks into a new experience, even if it’s not the first time for me to be teaching in Kayamkulam.
For the past 2 months I’ve been hugely caught-up in ONLY the experience at Sasthavattom school, forgetting a lot about other things. So I never properly realized just how fast time is moving. But, now with more clarity and strength, I see that the next 6 weeks of teaching, could very well be the last time for me to ever be working in India. Because my mind has changed; I once thought I’d want to come back as soon as possible after I leave in Feb. But I’ve heard myself saying to most people, that I don’t want to come back or even try to renew my visa. Not anytime in the near future anyhow. This was quite a shock, when I heard myself say it to the owner of the hostel. It just flopped out of my mouth! What a turn around! To have gone from hoping I could stay a full year to now saying; ‘nope, I’m happily moving onwards…’ it’s quite big. I didn’t even sit and over think it… I didn’t need to, for some reason. I don’t even know when I decided. Just one day last week I said it and I didn’t feel sad nor did I feel to be insulting the Indians around me, by saying I was happy to leave their country! I’m realizing, that so suddenly it’s time for something new, a new place, a new experience.
So, on that note… it’s January 1st. Is it a coincidence that from tomorrow onwards a new chapter starts for me? It’s the start of my ‘proper’ classes in Kayamkulam school. For the past 2 weeks, yes I’ve been teaching, but it was only to the small groups and the weaker students, also I’ve only been there for half days and simply warming up, meeting the kids and getting into the swing of things. From tomorrow onwards, a routine will start. I’ll be there full-time (6 days a week) with a proper schedule and I’ll be apart of the school – even if it is only for 6 weeks.
I’m happy to be here. I’ve settled into this spacious hostel – after having some ‘starting problems’ that became the cause of some mental turmoil. But hey-ho, I’m stable again and my health is back on track. So I’m willing to make the next 6 weeks into a new experience, even if it’s not the first time for me to be teaching in Kayamkulam.
For the past 2 months I’ve been hugely caught-up in ONLY the experience at Sasthavattom school, forgetting a lot about other things. So I never properly realized just how fast time is moving. But, now with more clarity and strength, I see that the next 6 weeks of teaching, could very well be the last time for me to ever be working in India. Because my mind has changed; I once thought I’d want to come back as soon as possible after I leave in Feb. But I’ve heard myself saying to most people, that I don’t want to come back or even try to renew my visa. Not anytime in the near future anyhow. This was quite a shock, when I heard myself say it to the owner of the hostel. It just flopped out of my mouth! What a turn around! To have gone from hoping I could stay a full year to now saying; ‘nope, I’m happily moving onwards…’ it’s quite big. I didn’t even sit and over think it… I didn’t need to, for some reason. I don’t even know when I decided. Just one day last week I said it and I didn’t feel sad nor did I feel to be insulting the Indians around me, by saying I was happy to leave their country! I’m realizing, that so suddenly it’s time for something new, a new place, a new experience.
Happy New Year!!!
New Years Day. 2012. Yesterday I sat down to do some updating, but the only thing that came out were ‘pity notes’ about the fact that I wasn’t celebrating the turning of the year, because of being in a town that does little to mark the occasion and also because of living in a hostel with only 3 other women, who all would be in bed by 10pm, after watching some bad Indian television and eating 3 different spicy curries only 10 minutes before saying goodnight. This is exactly what happened and I participated. And that concluded my celebration.
Yesterday afternoon, I was doom and gloom. It had been monsooning non-stop for nearly 2 full days – that could’ve affected me a little. I went on the internet, but didn’t want to email, or blog… so I only rang home and winged a little to my mother on skype… (oops!). But I was just feeling quite strange about everything – I’d been giving classes on New Years Eve and I didn’t have a feeling that it was December 31st at all nor did I really have anybody to celebrate with. Really it wasn’t the end of the world, but still I felt to have reached a stage in my life that usually is only reached once the children have moved out and they aren’t bothered to come to see their mother and give her a hug when the clock strikes 12! But, this makes no sense at all! I’m only 28! Not 88…! and I don’t have any kids! and I’m not immobile! And, it’s by my own choice that I didn’t celebrate this year! So what on earth was going through my mind yesterday!? Now, I can see how silly it all was, but yesterday nothing of my reality was clear, only my mind was playing games and those were what mattered to me (you can clearly tell that I was – as often is the case – way too much inside my own head, and not on the positive side of things!) So, yes, I admit it, I was feeling a little down last night. I went to bed in that same low mood (which actually never happens to me). Because it was so rare, I then was convinced that if I’d go to sleep feeling so low in 2011, I’d inevitably wake-up in 2012 feeling the same thing and the start of the new year would continue on a low note… and my life would be only doom and gloom!
So I wished and wished and wished for it to lift… I fell asleep hoping for ‘me and the new year’ NOT to start on bad terms… I then woke up at 11.58pm. Everything was so quiet. There wasn’t a sound in the hostel, all was dark. Outside, not a peep… not a firecracker to be heard… Nothing… then I dosed and woke only 15 minutes later, I checked the time… and wished myself a happy new year. And that was that! I turned over and continued sleeping until around 04.30am. I then woke and the text messages started coming in… it was around that time when most of my dearest were starting their night of celebrations and gatherings. I stayed awake, feeling on edge, restless… felt as though I should be doing something. But then I realized, even with the uneasiness, I was happy again! I was feeling human again! What a relief that the self-pity had subsided and I didn’t care that at that very moment most of my friends and family were all doing something special together and I wasn’t a part of it. It didn’t bother me that I’d been sleeping my way through the turning of the new year and I was happy to open the window and see that I was in India. Yes!!!!!!!
The whole festive season of 2011 has been quite a difficult one; being sick for most of it, continuing to work throughout, and feeling quite lonely at times. But this morning, none of that mattered anymore. It’s all in the past now… It’s a new beginning…
With such clarity I fine to continue life as normal and doing the things I do that get me off to a good start, no matter what day it is… the things that make me feel human and well… meditation, yoga, breathing exercises… then I had breakfast with the 2 other women, I washed my clothes outside on the stone in the hot morning sun (which I was delighted to do, because it meant that finally my strength and energy had returned after the flu took away for nearly 2 weeks. Man, how happy I was that I could be something of a domestic goddess for a few hours).
And now I’m updating with a spirit that’s high again. Only today I’m realizing that it’s been quite some weeks since I’ve been feeling like this. With this spirit it also feels a lot better to wish everybody all the love, light, peace and laughter to come their way, this New Year. Posting a blog here yesterday and saying the same, would only have felt halfhearted… so I’m delighted I didn’t go on my blog! Yay… Okay enough about that… Even if this has been the quietest and most boring new year celebration of my life, I sincerely hope that everyone had a memorable night, with at least one person around them, to hug when the clock struck 12. Be well, be safe, be happy and, most importantly, be healthy throughout it all…
Yesterday afternoon, I was doom and gloom. It had been monsooning non-stop for nearly 2 full days – that could’ve affected me a little. I went on the internet, but didn’t want to email, or blog… so I only rang home and winged a little to my mother on skype… (oops!). But I was just feeling quite strange about everything – I’d been giving classes on New Years Eve and I didn’t have a feeling that it was December 31st at all nor did I really have anybody to celebrate with. Really it wasn’t the end of the world, but still I felt to have reached a stage in my life that usually is only reached once the children have moved out and they aren’t bothered to come to see their mother and give her a hug when the clock strikes 12! But, this makes no sense at all! I’m only 28! Not 88…! and I don’t have any kids! and I’m not immobile! And, it’s by my own choice that I didn’t celebrate this year! So what on earth was going through my mind yesterday!? Now, I can see how silly it all was, but yesterday nothing of my reality was clear, only my mind was playing games and those were what mattered to me (you can clearly tell that I was – as often is the case – way too much inside my own head, and not on the positive side of things!) So, yes, I admit it, I was feeling a little down last night. I went to bed in that same low mood (which actually never happens to me). Because it was so rare, I then was convinced that if I’d go to sleep feeling so low in 2011, I’d inevitably wake-up in 2012 feeling the same thing and the start of the new year would continue on a low note… and my life would be only doom and gloom!
So I wished and wished and wished for it to lift… I fell asleep hoping for ‘me and the new year’ NOT to start on bad terms… I then woke up at 11.58pm. Everything was so quiet. There wasn’t a sound in the hostel, all was dark. Outside, not a peep… not a firecracker to be heard… Nothing… then I dosed and woke only 15 minutes later, I checked the time… and wished myself a happy new year. And that was that! I turned over and continued sleeping until around 04.30am. I then woke and the text messages started coming in… it was around that time when most of my dearest were starting their night of celebrations and gatherings. I stayed awake, feeling on edge, restless… felt as though I should be doing something. But then I realized, even with the uneasiness, I was happy again! I was feeling human again! What a relief that the self-pity had subsided and I didn’t care that at that very moment most of my friends and family were all doing something special together and I wasn’t a part of it. It didn’t bother me that I’d been sleeping my way through the turning of the new year and I was happy to open the window and see that I was in India. Yes!!!!!!!
The whole festive season of 2011 has been quite a difficult one; being sick for most of it, continuing to work throughout, and feeling quite lonely at times. But this morning, none of that mattered anymore. It’s all in the past now… It’s a new beginning…
With such clarity I fine to continue life as normal and doing the things I do that get me off to a good start, no matter what day it is… the things that make me feel human and well… meditation, yoga, breathing exercises… then I had breakfast with the 2 other women, I washed my clothes outside on the stone in the hot morning sun (which I was delighted to do, because it meant that finally my strength and energy had returned after the flu took away for nearly 2 weeks. Man, how happy I was that I could be something of a domestic goddess for a few hours).
And now I’m updating with a spirit that’s high again. Only today I’m realizing that it’s been quite some weeks since I’ve been feeling like this. With this spirit it also feels a lot better to wish everybody all the love, light, peace and laughter to come their way, this New Year. Posting a blog here yesterday and saying the same, would only have felt halfhearted… so I’m delighted I didn’t go on my blog! Yay… Okay enough about that… Even if this has been the quietest and most boring new year celebration of my life, I sincerely hope that everyone had a memorable night, with at least one person around them, to hug when the clock struck 12. Be well, be safe, be happy and, most importantly, be healthy throughout it all…
Thursday, December 29, 2011
My Christmas day
In between this crazy week of commotions, emotions and flu, Christmas did of course come and go. Did I celebrate? Well, if you call going to a ladies house from 09.30 in the morning till 7.00 at night, resting for most of the day and then watching Home Alone 2 with her 91 year old mother, at the same time as feeling sick for the amount of food I’d eaten… then I most certainly did celebrate! The food was ‘massive…’ No surprises there then!
The feast started the moment I walked in the door, 09.30 am: spicy chicken curry, cake and sweets. The second even spicier chicken curry was brought to me, after I’d been nursing my fever and headache for 2 hours. This time the curry was served with a fried egg, fried crisps and a portion of fried rice that would’ve been enough for 4 people, but that I, alone, had been demanded to eat... The lady of the house and the cook were both standing above me, watching my every bite and movement and not attempting to help me eat my way through the meal, nor to sit down and enjoy the meal with me nor keep me company (this is a very typical thing they do here; whenever there’s a guest, the women will never sit down and share the meal, if there are men, they’ll sit, but on this occasion, it was only 3 ladies). Also, they’ll be waiting to hear how delicious Indian food is and be on guard to serve the 2nd, 3rd, and hopefully the 4th helping of food.
So, at the Christmas dinner table I sat alone and when she realized that I was full, she kindly demanded that I sit for 4 whole hours if I needed, but no matter how long it would take, I wasn’t leaving the table until the rice was gone! ‘Holy smoke’, is the only thing that went through my mind.
But luckily, I was saved by my mobile that started ringing! My Mam called from Ireland! Yay! This was the perfect excuse for me to jump up from the dinner table in delight and spend a half an hour in the garden, talking to all the family back home. It also gave the lady enough time to realize that I wasn’t going to clear the 4-portioned size plate of fried rice… and luckily for my stomach, she did! Because - just like magic - after 30 minutes I walked back inside, and the table was cleared! The only thing that was left was a bowl of pudding… And a lady who wasn’t too happy that I didn’t keep feeding myself until I exploded… but I didn’t feel too bad, cause I’d just connected properly with home! Yay… that was the best Christmas gift I could’ve asked for! And regarding the food I couldn’t finish – in India I’ve learnt the hard way that you will never be able to eat the portion sizes of food that will make the cook smile. For me, personally, I know I will never be able to make any Indian happy, if that smile only depends on the amount of food they wish for me to eat. I’ve had to learn the hard way… haha…
Anyhow, after Christmas lunch, I was back in bed, not only nursing a cough and some general aches and pains, but also a sore gut… Okay enough about my Christmas day. It’s come and gone for another year. Even though it was quiet, it was definitely a memorable one. My first, and maybe my last, Indian Christmas…
P.s. It may sound as though I’m ungrateful to the lady who invited me to her home, but I’m not… it was just quite the spectacle to see how different my Christmas was, especially when you know – almost like clockwork – everything that’s going on back home. Also, it was all a little bit much because I wasn’t feeling 100% on top of life. But she did all she could to accommodate the fussy and flu-ish girl from ‘outside’…
The feast started the moment I walked in the door, 09.30 am: spicy chicken curry, cake and sweets. The second even spicier chicken curry was brought to me, after I’d been nursing my fever and headache for 2 hours. This time the curry was served with a fried egg, fried crisps and a portion of fried rice that would’ve been enough for 4 people, but that I, alone, had been demanded to eat... The lady of the house and the cook were both standing above me, watching my every bite and movement and not attempting to help me eat my way through the meal, nor to sit down and enjoy the meal with me nor keep me company (this is a very typical thing they do here; whenever there’s a guest, the women will never sit down and share the meal, if there are men, they’ll sit, but on this occasion, it was only 3 ladies). Also, they’ll be waiting to hear how delicious Indian food is and be on guard to serve the 2nd, 3rd, and hopefully the 4th helping of food.
So, at the Christmas dinner table I sat alone and when she realized that I was full, she kindly demanded that I sit for 4 whole hours if I needed, but no matter how long it would take, I wasn’t leaving the table until the rice was gone! ‘Holy smoke’, is the only thing that went through my mind.
But luckily, I was saved by my mobile that started ringing! My Mam called from Ireland! Yay! This was the perfect excuse for me to jump up from the dinner table in delight and spend a half an hour in the garden, talking to all the family back home. It also gave the lady enough time to realize that I wasn’t going to clear the 4-portioned size plate of fried rice… and luckily for my stomach, she did! Because - just like magic - after 30 minutes I walked back inside, and the table was cleared! The only thing that was left was a bowl of pudding… And a lady who wasn’t too happy that I didn’t keep feeding myself until I exploded… but I didn’t feel too bad, cause I’d just connected properly with home! Yay… that was the best Christmas gift I could’ve asked for! And regarding the food I couldn’t finish – in India I’ve learnt the hard way that you will never be able to eat the portion sizes of food that will make the cook smile. For me, personally, I know I will never be able to make any Indian happy, if that smile only depends on the amount of food they wish for me to eat. I’ve had to learn the hard way… haha…
Anyhow, after Christmas lunch, I was back in bed, not only nursing a cough and some general aches and pains, but also a sore gut… Okay enough about my Christmas day. It’s come and gone for another year. Even though it was quiet, it was definitely a memorable one. My first, and maybe my last, Indian Christmas…
P.s. It may sound as though I’m ungrateful to the lady who invited me to her home, but I’m not… it was just quite the spectacle to see how different my Christmas was, especially when you know – almost like clockwork – everything that’s going on back home. Also, it was all a little bit much because I wasn’t feeling 100% on top of life. But she did all she could to accommodate the fussy and flu-ish girl from ‘outside’…
Sorting the problem - Hostel move
On my last note, I was in the hostel from Hell. On this note, I’m in a much nicer place. A week ago, I came close to leaving Kayamkulam, and I was even seriously contemplating leaving India – all because of the hostel I was meant to stay at (if school had their way), for the next 8 weeks.
After sleeping in that place for the first 2 nights of being back in Kayamkulam, I went to school on Monday morning (the 19th). It was my first day, but I was a wreck. I’d already made a deal with myself: I wasn’t going to teach any classes, until the accommodation was sorted. So, arriving at school, I went straight to the head mistress and told her that if there weren’t going to be any changes in accommodation then I’d be leaving. I wasn’t snotty about it, I was calm, honest and… desperate for a way out of ‘prison’. They were so helpful, they listened to me… and saw my desperation as I sat there in the office, almost depressed… I didn’t know what was happening. I couldn’t put on a smile and I didn’t want to see the kids – who were way too interested in seeing the foreign teacher again. Nothing made me want to smile… I just wanted to hide and I wasn’t even ashamed for the fact that I was having such a strong negative reaction and ‘becoming a problem’ for the school. Because, in my confused daze, my mind was already leaving Kayamkulam and I didn’t care what others were saying or thinking.
But, but but… they weren’t going to let me go, just like that! Nope. They were finding a solution for me… I didn’t know if that made me happy to stay or if I would’ve been happier to go. At that point, all I knew was, I had to move, that very same day. The management discussed eagerly in Malayalam what to do and where to put me. They probably also were trying to figure out why I had gone temporarily loopy (I don’t understand the language, but I can only imagine their disbelief). Anyhow, after some discussions and phone calls, suddenly they were able to offer me something better! Which was a shock, because on the first day they told me that there was no other hostel in town, and that the hellish hostel was the only place for me. And now, that I was about to leave, they suddenly had received news of a better place… Humm… I’m not too sure if that was really the case or if they remembered me as being the ‘push over’ – 18 months ago – who would always say that everything was good, fine and dandy, whether or not good, fine and dandy were the feelings she was feeling. Maybe they remembered her, and had presumed/hoped she’d not have changed. But, to be honest, I haven’t a clue what they were thinking about me or about the hostel. All I can say is that they got their act together and sorted the accommodation. And half an hour later, I was brought to see another place and instantly jumped at the chance of having my own room in a new hostel, that’s bright, fresh, clean and spacious. The warden (who is the lady who manages the hostel) is actually the same lady who was in the hellish hostel, 18 months ago! She was working there when I was ‘suffering in grime’ last year. She’d quit from ‘hell’ and had moved herself to something that was starting to resemble ‘heaven’ to me. It was nice to see a familiar face…
That same day (still the 19th), I moved my stuff from one hostel to the other and I couldn’t believe how relieved I felt. Life was light again, I could smile, I could see clearly. And, even now, I can’t quite explain how or why that first hostel sent me so crazy inside my head… and I’m unable to grasp what happened to me, between leaving Sasthavattom school on the 17th and arriving at the new hostel in Kayamkulam on Monday the 19th. But trying to find reasons and answers, was, and still is, only tempting to disturb the peace that has returned, ever since settling into my new home. Instead of seeking answers, I was finding myself trying to focus on teaching classes that I hadn’t been able to prepare, whilst having high fever and a massive cough.
Because, of course, the emotional stress brought the virus back, - the one I thought to have beaten, before leaving Sasthavattom. It was trying to knock me down – but it failed. Because I struggled onwards and continued to go from class to class, for the remainder of the week. I needed to make the best first impression I could – and I wasn’t willing to become known as the ‘foreigner who is a constant problem’. I didn’t go to the doctor again. I was reluctant to take anything… Until my voice nearly disappeared after 3 days. Then I gave-in. I accepted medicine and just wished to rest…
From Friday onwards, thankfully I got the chance to wind down, to put the whole emotional fiasco into perspective and to settle into my new home, and beat the flu and cough at the same time. That’s when our Christmas holidays started… I was to have 10 days leave apparently… With that notion in mind, I was adamant to spend the full week in bed so I’d be fresh and fighting fit, from the 2nd onwards (which is also when school reopens). But what happened? Instead of spending 10 days in bed, I spent 2 days (the 25th and the 26th) resting… UNTIL the phone rang on Monday night, at 7.30pm. I was told I’d be teaching vacation classes from the following morning and the classes would last for the remainder of the holidays! Noooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! I couldn’t believe it… I hadn’t prepared anything, I hadn’t expected that at all and my health was not in anyway fit to think about teaching and jumping around with a group of kids who expected me to be the fun and active teacher that would make their Christmas vacation classes a lot brighter.
Well… What could I say, only: “Okay, it’s fine…” And that was that – after all they’d done for me the previous week, how could I let them down? So, I’d just grin and bear it… Then it was simply up to me to get my head into gear and my body filled with some extra energy and teach as best as I could and fight the bug at the same time.
At first, I wasn’t too sure if I could do it. But, so far so good… Because I’m doing it! I just proves that, of course, when we seriously put our minds to doing something, we can always overcome anything that’s an ‘obstacle’. Something will always click and we can get on with the job (simply by telling ourselves to stop being such a ‘winge-bag’ and do the duty we promised we would do). Those are the more harsh words that we (or I) can use, if the obstacle is more of a challenge to get passed.
Anyhow, back to what’s going on now… For this week, there’ll be no rest. And now I’m only hoping that I’ll start feeling better, before next week, because then I’ll have a busier schedule. Otherwise I’m not too sure what will happen… Some doubts are in my mind, in regards to what to do ‘long term’, if I can’t get passed this. For now though, I’ll soldier on...
After sleeping in that place for the first 2 nights of being back in Kayamkulam, I went to school on Monday morning (the 19th). It was my first day, but I was a wreck. I’d already made a deal with myself: I wasn’t going to teach any classes, until the accommodation was sorted. So, arriving at school, I went straight to the head mistress and told her that if there weren’t going to be any changes in accommodation then I’d be leaving. I wasn’t snotty about it, I was calm, honest and… desperate for a way out of ‘prison’. They were so helpful, they listened to me… and saw my desperation as I sat there in the office, almost depressed… I didn’t know what was happening. I couldn’t put on a smile and I didn’t want to see the kids – who were way too interested in seeing the foreign teacher again. Nothing made me want to smile… I just wanted to hide and I wasn’t even ashamed for the fact that I was having such a strong negative reaction and ‘becoming a problem’ for the school. Because, in my confused daze, my mind was already leaving Kayamkulam and I didn’t care what others were saying or thinking.
But, but but… they weren’t going to let me go, just like that! Nope. They were finding a solution for me… I didn’t know if that made me happy to stay or if I would’ve been happier to go. At that point, all I knew was, I had to move, that very same day. The management discussed eagerly in Malayalam what to do and where to put me. They probably also were trying to figure out why I had gone temporarily loopy (I don’t understand the language, but I can only imagine their disbelief). Anyhow, after some discussions and phone calls, suddenly they were able to offer me something better! Which was a shock, because on the first day they told me that there was no other hostel in town, and that the hellish hostel was the only place for me. And now, that I was about to leave, they suddenly had received news of a better place… Humm… I’m not too sure if that was really the case or if they remembered me as being the ‘push over’ – 18 months ago – who would always say that everything was good, fine and dandy, whether or not good, fine and dandy were the feelings she was feeling. Maybe they remembered her, and had presumed/hoped she’d not have changed. But, to be honest, I haven’t a clue what they were thinking about me or about the hostel. All I can say is that they got their act together and sorted the accommodation. And half an hour later, I was brought to see another place and instantly jumped at the chance of having my own room in a new hostel, that’s bright, fresh, clean and spacious. The warden (who is the lady who manages the hostel) is actually the same lady who was in the hellish hostel, 18 months ago! She was working there when I was ‘suffering in grime’ last year. She’d quit from ‘hell’ and had moved herself to something that was starting to resemble ‘heaven’ to me. It was nice to see a familiar face…
That same day (still the 19th), I moved my stuff from one hostel to the other and I couldn’t believe how relieved I felt. Life was light again, I could smile, I could see clearly. And, even now, I can’t quite explain how or why that first hostel sent me so crazy inside my head… and I’m unable to grasp what happened to me, between leaving Sasthavattom school on the 17th and arriving at the new hostel in Kayamkulam on Monday the 19th. But trying to find reasons and answers, was, and still is, only tempting to disturb the peace that has returned, ever since settling into my new home. Instead of seeking answers, I was finding myself trying to focus on teaching classes that I hadn’t been able to prepare, whilst having high fever and a massive cough.
Because, of course, the emotional stress brought the virus back, - the one I thought to have beaten, before leaving Sasthavattom. It was trying to knock me down – but it failed. Because I struggled onwards and continued to go from class to class, for the remainder of the week. I needed to make the best first impression I could – and I wasn’t willing to become known as the ‘foreigner who is a constant problem’. I didn’t go to the doctor again. I was reluctant to take anything… Until my voice nearly disappeared after 3 days. Then I gave-in. I accepted medicine and just wished to rest…
From Friday onwards, thankfully I got the chance to wind down, to put the whole emotional fiasco into perspective and to settle into my new home, and beat the flu and cough at the same time. That’s when our Christmas holidays started… I was to have 10 days leave apparently… With that notion in mind, I was adamant to spend the full week in bed so I’d be fresh and fighting fit, from the 2nd onwards (which is also when school reopens). But what happened? Instead of spending 10 days in bed, I spent 2 days (the 25th and the 26th) resting… UNTIL the phone rang on Monday night, at 7.30pm. I was told I’d be teaching vacation classes from the following morning and the classes would last for the remainder of the holidays! Noooooo!!!!!!!!!!!! I couldn’t believe it… I hadn’t prepared anything, I hadn’t expected that at all and my health was not in anyway fit to think about teaching and jumping around with a group of kids who expected me to be the fun and active teacher that would make their Christmas vacation classes a lot brighter.
Well… What could I say, only: “Okay, it’s fine…” And that was that – after all they’d done for me the previous week, how could I let them down? So, I’d just grin and bear it… Then it was simply up to me to get my head into gear and my body filled with some extra energy and teach as best as I could and fight the bug at the same time.
At first, I wasn’t too sure if I could do it. But, so far so good… Because I’m doing it! I just proves that, of course, when we seriously put our minds to doing something, we can always overcome anything that’s an ‘obstacle’. Something will always click and we can get on with the job (simply by telling ourselves to stop being such a ‘winge-bag’ and do the duty we promised we would do). Those are the more harsh words that we (or I) can use, if the obstacle is more of a challenge to get passed.
Anyhow, back to what’s going on now… For this week, there’ll be no rest. And now I’m only hoping that I’ll start feeling better, before next week, because then I’ll have a busier schedule. Otherwise I’m not too sure what will happen… Some doubts are in my mind, in regards to what to do ‘long term’, if I can’t get passed this. For now though, I’ll soldier on...
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Time for some plans...
It’s been just over 3 months since I arrived in India. Can’t believe how short it’s been and how much has happened. I only realized the other day that it’s time for me to start thinking ahead. My visa expires in only 10 weeks time. How did that happen? I haven’t got a clue… wouw… 10 weeks to go… Feb the 17th I have to leave… And have I thought about what I want to do or where I want to go? Hell no! I’ve been too swamped at school to start planning ahead. There’s been no space in my days… and little space in my head.
Actually, I could be using the haste at school as an excuse… maybe I’ve purposely been putting off making any plans; I don’t want to have to think about moving away from India. I don’t even want to think about moving away from this school – which is meant to be happening in 2 weeks time; if everything goes to plan (I’ll be placed in a different school, only an hour or so up the road). I’ve been hoping that will happen, something that will permit me to stay longer than the 6 months. I could renew my visa for another 6 months. But I’d first have to leave the country, apply for it from outside of India, wait for approval and re-enter 2 months after leaving. Doing this isn’t a guarantee that I’ll be permitted to come back so soon after leaving (especially as it would be my 3rd tourist visa in the space of 2 years – the government is getting stricter with the foreigners and their regular visits, especially if it’s purely for ‘vacating’ for months on end!). I don’t reckon this is what I’ll be planning on doing. Too risky.
So, now I’m secretly hoping for these schools to help me out with getting a volunteer visa that’s valid for a year. Then I can stay working for them, and I’d not have to leave in Feb… or for the following 12 months! The thoughts of this, has made me wonder if I’d want to commit myself to a full year of teaching here, from Feb onwards. I’m not too clear on the answer yet. At the moment I’m loving it. But I don’t know if that’s because I know this position is only temporary, or if it’s because I truly feel at home and at ease here. I’m not too sure if suddenly my feelings towards teaching for these schools would change, if this job became something more ‘permanent’. I guess that’s only something I’ll know, by trying… With everything we do, and every decision, there’s a risk of it not working out the way we’d hoped… and only by following something through and taking the risk, will we find the answer. To not follow through, we’re left wondering…
I might be jumping the gun a little, but I’m just weighing up my options. Because it could be on offer – there’s been some talk… but no definite or concrete ‘proposals’ on their behalf. I guess, at the moment, I just have to wait and see if they’re willing to arrange a volunteer visa, so I can stay longer. And only then can I decide if it’s what I want.
It’s so nice to get the time right now, to be throwing these ideas around in my head. It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance and time moves so fast, without properly realizing. I need to start planning something… Because if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, after the way I left India last year… it’s that I DO need a plan of some sort; especially if I want to return. Without any proper plan, whilst being on the road, a person can suddenly find themselves on the way home, with or without wanting to. It’s what happened last year: I left India, wanted to come back as soon as I could but I didn’t really think it through. That’s why it took me 13 months, instead of 2, to come back (don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any regrets about where I chose to spend my time in between the 2 experiences I’ve had in India… because eventually I DID make it back to India…that’s what’s most important!!!!).
So now, within 10 weeks I’ve to suss out what I want and I’ve to make it happen. Maybe I can sit back and do nothing, except for work my ass off at school and hope that that deed alone will be the thing to keep me here in India… maybe I can trust that if I’m meant to stay, without having to do a ‘2 months visa run’, then I will… maybe I can trust that if nothing permits me to stay, then obviously I’m meant to move onwards… Maybe I can trust that there’s another teaching job in a different Asian country waiting for me… Perhaps… China??? Haha… Ah no, best not to head to land of dragons… not just yet. It doesn’t put a smile on my face.
I know I must trust that whatever is meant to be, will be. As long as I’m giving myself the time of day to keep clear in my mind what it is that I want and where I’d like to be, whilst keeping my priorities in order, then everything will always be well… People have been asking me, when I’m going back to Ireland. And all I say I can say is… Not yet. I can’t… not unless something regarding my book, calls me home. That’s when I’ll be going… Humm… I’ll not go into that subject for now and I’ll continue when I’ve some more clarity :)
Actually, I could be using the haste at school as an excuse… maybe I’ve purposely been putting off making any plans; I don’t want to have to think about moving away from India. I don’t even want to think about moving away from this school – which is meant to be happening in 2 weeks time; if everything goes to plan (I’ll be placed in a different school, only an hour or so up the road). I’ve been hoping that will happen, something that will permit me to stay longer than the 6 months. I could renew my visa for another 6 months. But I’d first have to leave the country, apply for it from outside of India, wait for approval and re-enter 2 months after leaving. Doing this isn’t a guarantee that I’ll be permitted to come back so soon after leaving (especially as it would be my 3rd tourist visa in the space of 2 years – the government is getting stricter with the foreigners and their regular visits, especially if it’s purely for ‘vacating’ for months on end!). I don’t reckon this is what I’ll be planning on doing. Too risky.
So, now I’m secretly hoping for these schools to help me out with getting a volunteer visa that’s valid for a year. Then I can stay working for them, and I’d not have to leave in Feb… or for the following 12 months! The thoughts of this, has made me wonder if I’d want to commit myself to a full year of teaching here, from Feb onwards. I’m not too clear on the answer yet. At the moment I’m loving it. But I don’t know if that’s because I know this position is only temporary, or if it’s because I truly feel at home and at ease here. I’m not too sure if suddenly my feelings towards teaching for these schools would change, if this job became something more ‘permanent’. I guess that’s only something I’ll know, by trying… With everything we do, and every decision, there’s a risk of it not working out the way we’d hoped… and only by following something through and taking the risk, will we find the answer. To not follow through, we’re left wondering…
I might be jumping the gun a little, but I’m just weighing up my options. Because it could be on offer – there’s been some talk… but no definite or concrete ‘proposals’ on their behalf. I guess, at the moment, I just have to wait and see if they’re willing to arrange a volunteer visa, so I can stay longer. And only then can I decide if it’s what I want.
It’s so nice to get the time right now, to be throwing these ideas around in my head. It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance and time moves so fast, without properly realizing. I need to start planning something… Because if there’s one thing I’ve learnt, after the way I left India last year… it’s that I DO need a plan of some sort; especially if I want to return. Without any proper plan, whilst being on the road, a person can suddenly find themselves on the way home, with or without wanting to. It’s what happened last year: I left India, wanted to come back as soon as I could but I didn’t really think it through. That’s why it took me 13 months, instead of 2, to come back (don’t get me wrong, I don’t have any regrets about where I chose to spend my time in between the 2 experiences I’ve had in India… because eventually I DID make it back to India…that’s what’s most important!!!!).
So now, within 10 weeks I’ve to suss out what I want and I’ve to make it happen. Maybe I can sit back and do nothing, except for work my ass off at school and hope that that deed alone will be the thing to keep me here in India… maybe I can trust that if I’m meant to stay, without having to do a ‘2 months visa run’, then I will… maybe I can trust that if nothing permits me to stay, then obviously I’m meant to move onwards… Maybe I can trust that there’s another teaching job in a different Asian country waiting for me… Perhaps… China??? Haha… Ah no, best not to head to land of dragons… not just yet. It doesn’t put a smile on my face.
I know I must trust that whatever is meant to be, will be. As long as I’m giving myself the time of day to keep clear in my mind what it is that I want and where I’d like to be, whilst keeping my priorities in order, then everything will always be well… People have been asking me, when I’m going back to Ireland. And all I say I can say is… Not yet. I can’t… not unless something regarding my book, calls me home. That’s when I’ll be going… Humm… I’ll not go into that subject for now and I’ll continue when I’ve some more clarity :)
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