It’s the People
August 14, 2010
Sitting at the Hotel Saravana Bhavan, a restaurant chain, I strained to listen to the fascinating young woman sitting opposite me as we sipped our fresh lime sodas (oh, boy, I love those things). Not that she was too quiet it was just the combined noise and my continued adjustment to accents and rapidity of speech here. But it was worth the effort, because her work as both a dancer and an arts ed advocate and instructor were quite engaging to listen to. I am so in awe of her dedication to plying her trade as a dancer to make enough money so she can continue her work with those in need through the arts. The moment that touched me most, however, symbolizes the kinds of relationships that enticed me back to this place. When the bill was placed in front of us, she most determinedly and vociferously made me give it to her. Now, please note that I had written to her out of the blue and invited her to meet with me, since I had read a little about her and seen an article of hers about arts ed work. She didn’t know squat about me, but agreed to meet and chat.
That is how life goes on here. A line of people have been open to meet with me, no questions asked and almost immediately they invite me to be involved in some capacity. Amongst those is the founder of a theatre company here dedicated to work for and with children. Once again, out of the blue, she made herself available to meet and on that first day I hung around for about three hours, during which she fed me and arranged for me to participate in a storytelling session, conduct a directing workshop with some of her actors, invited me to a future festival, asked me to teach a couple of her workshops for children and a list of other events, including most recently arranging for a newspaper interview. The other day, most graciously, I was to attend an evening’s performance at a hall near her house. She made me promise to go to her house in the early afternoon for food and a rest before seeing the show. Her elderly mother took very good care of me that day.
I visited two gentlemen who are head of a national English teacher’s organization. In the space of 30 minutes they asked me to participate in their international conference by presenting a workshop…which is only available to people they invite, not by application. They are now planning to send me to a town south of here, all expenses paid. They have yet to look at any work I have done.
I am in the midst of planning a visit to a socially-based theatre company. Not too surprising, given my work, but the gentleman who runs the organization has been very open to talking about such a visit. More impressive, however, was the fact that recently he went to a conference in Brazil and talked to people there about meeting with me here.
On a more personal level there is my good friend G. Ah, what won’t G do for me. G arranges my hired cars, my train travel, accompanies me wherever and whenever I need help. This man is a guardian angel of sorts for everything that he is willing to do. The only problem with G is that I never know if I might be taking advantage. But the thing is that he seems to want to be engaged in helping. Take tonight for example. After having a meal out, he accompanied me almost to the door of my house, which is in a different direction than his home. He was almost insulted that I told him he should go ahead and go home. His greatest pleasure right now, so he says, is the fact that I have arranged to accompany him on a train trip to go visit his wife and daughter at their home in Kerala.
The other day at school, I had to hang about waiting for my car. I did not arrange for lunch that day, so just sat in the small library doing a little of my own personal work. A couple of teachers, with whom I do NOT work, saw me and said, ‘Come join us for lunch.’ Now, that would generally mean sit with them and eat my own lunch. In this case it meant they each gave me half of their lunch and stood nearby the table I was eating and waited for me to finish. When I had, they thanked me for joining them!
As I finished a workshop session, I hung back to talk with a couple of gentlemen interested in talking about arranging another such workshop. A moment later a woman who had been in the workshop returned. I asked if she had a question. She said, ‘No, I just came back to hear you talk some more.’
On the simplest of levels, so many people I do not know are so helpful without me even asking for it. On street corners, in shops, along the road, wherever. Everyone and anyone will be willing to point the way, answer a question, suggest an idea, ask if I need help, etc. Even if I don’t need help.
The little moments of people asking, ‘Did you eat your lunch?’ Asking me to sit in a chair they will go out of the way to provide. Waiting for me to leave a room first. If they see me in a classroom alone, coming to join me so I am not alone.
And the children, I cannot even begin to explain how genuine and engaged they are. It is such a different experience to be in a place where students don’t feel the need to belligerently resist. The lack of sarcasm is a breath of fresh air. The children take things at face value and are so openly affectionate and friendly, all the way up through the high school age.
I returned for the people, I enjoy the company of people here, I feel satisfied spending the bulk of my time with people here and can only hope these connections will continue beyond my time here. When friends ask, what did you see in India, I will most happily reply, ‘Many people.’