A new day, a new appreciation for the little things.
I have now been in Wayanad for a month and time is flying by. Every evening I walk home to Vallat from the Profugo House and I listen attentively to the symphony of crickets and frogs nestled in the hills and rice paddies. Their music is the perfect accompaniment to the fireflies dancing amidst the tops of the coconut trees above me. It is almost as if the stars from the sky have fallen and are leaping to the rhythms emerging from countryside. It is the glowing of the fireflies each night that help to remind me of the glowing moments I have experienced that day and over the course of the month that I have been here.
It has undoubtedly taken some time to adjust to a different way of life and culture but it has been a blessing getting to know the Profugo community and the people here in Wayanad. Not having all of the amenities I would usually have back home in the U.S., like a washer, dryer, oven, microwave, reliable internet and electricity, and a car, have drawn my attention towards the little things I often overlook in the fast paced technological world I immerse myself in back home. Little things like just being present around others, a simple smile, and laughter have shined as some of the beautiful moments I have had with the people here.
Every morning when I walk to the Profugo house I smile, nod, and greet people by saying hello in Malayalam, “namaskaram”. A smile and “namaskaram” in return brightens our smiles and widens our eyes even more. Everyday I say hello and talk with Jusef at his vegetable shop. Jusef is a great man, with two daughters that have smiles that could light up even the gloomiest of rainy days. Communicating in broken English and broken Malayalam has led to much laughter and even greater joy in being in the presence of others and understanding even just simple conversation. We laughed and laughed at Sujayah’s house as her husband taught me how to tie my lungi. I struggled mightily and we chuckled as we suggested that I should avoid running in it until I can tie it so it stays on.
It is beautiful to know that despite coming from a distant land, a different culture, and speaking a different language we can come to understand each other, and we can come to love and care for each other. The people here are extraordinarily friendly. I am always asked to join for tea by the men in Vallat and often get rides on the motorbike back to my apartment. As I want to get to know the people here so do the people want to get to know me. Akshaya is a young girl I see on my walk everyday to the Profugo house. She often waits outside before school and yells hello to me as I walk by. She runs up to me and we have our morning talk. I can see the gears moving inside her head as she practices the English she has been learning in school. We talk about poetry, hobbies, and movies. Akshaya wants to be a poet and the works of Shakespeare inspire her. She recited one of her poems in Malayalam one day to me and although I could not understand the meaning of the words, I could feel the passion, love, and expression in her eyes and in her voice. The little encounters I have had with the children here like Akshaya warm my heart and continue to inspire me to grow in community here.
Each day I am feeling like I am becoming more of a brother to the beautiful people here. They have treated me like I am their brother and I look forward to the many months ahead. As the Onam season and the rains come to an end over the next few weeks I will continue to assess needs and plan for natural resource management projects such as rainwater harvesting, alternative energy exploration, and income generating programs. It is exciting to see the growth and development here in all dimensions of life.
As I reflect on this past month of building community, I look for that to grow to even higher levels and I also look forward to working for that same growth in projects with natural resources, the tailoring center, organic farming, health and wellness, and spoken English classes as well.