Monday, April 23, 2007

Homesickness

As long as I’ve been able to think, I’ve been one to dream. I’m sure my parents could regale you with stories of the games I’d make up and the tales that would come dancing out of my head. I think that’s part of the reason I was so attracted to acting; it was a way to live other lives without having to give up my own. Alternative universes hold a taunting attraction to me.

With that in mind, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I had a litany of daydreams before moving to India. It had been a longstanding dream of mine to live in a foreign country, with all it entails. I can’t pinpoint a specific fantasy that I had, but they were sweeping and grand, filled with tame adventure and lush romance. Not of the sexual kind, but emotional romance. I was going to fall in love with this new home of mine and it was going to fall in love with me.

Seven months in and I can say that the daydreams are far from the reality we’re facing. Life here is a constant struggle for both of us. A struggle to be understood, to shed our American-born instincts and prejudices. We spend a great deal of our time venting to each other about petty things that happened. A woman in line pushed me to do her best to shove me out of her way. A man in an auto almost ran me off the road because he didn’t want to wait for me to pass. We have yet to make any friends of any kind. We’re too new, too different. Instead of wanting to be our friends, people would rather study us and watch us, like animals in a zoo. So my best friend has been promoted to sole friend, for all intents and purposes. Not that I’ve forgotten about everyone back home. In fact, I probably spend more time thinking about everyone than I ever did when we lived closer to each other. But with 14 months looming in the future, you all seem so damned far away as to be surreal. I’m not quite convinced that the world we left still exists.

This past week, we both went through a real bout of homesickness, which inevitably led to discussions about the possibility of visiting. Our friend Ali, who visited for two weeks and left last Saturday, brought me crashing back to reality when she told me that her visit home had increased her homesickness when she got back to Japan. That tidbit, mixed with a bank account that is perpetually decreasing, convinced us that we should only go home if it were a complete crisis of homesickness (barring true family emergencies, of course) and only after we’ve passed our halfway point in this journey. Because going home now means returning to fourteen more months and the knowledge that I only made it through the first seven before I had to run back home.

I don’t mean to be a big downer and I don’t want anyone to think that we regret our decision to move here. I think we’re both more and more certain that we’ve done the right thing. We like challenging and pushing ourselves into uncomfortable situations. But with all of this in mind, we have a request. We know that the people who read this blog think of us and not just when you read the blog. We know that there are scores (okay, maybe just dozens) of people who truly care for us. So this is the favor we ask of you. When you think of us, either of us, just let us know. It doesn’t need to be a dramatic, pages long e-mail. Just one line to say that we’re still there even while we’re here. And when you read the blog, let us know that you did. Even if we don’t know you. (Yes, that means you, whomever you are in Australia reading this. We want to know you too!!!!) It helps us feel just a little more connected and therefore a little less lonely.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

My Indian Interview

I was asked by my academic adviser at Drew to write an article for our semesterly newsletter, The Dilated Times. I thought it would be fun to share. Enjoy!

I had been told there would only be three or four professors in the room with me. I was therefore surprised to walk into a room with nine people in it. I had thought that my admissions interview would be a casual affair, but the two girls who had been waiting outside of the room with me worked me into a bit of a tizzy before I was called in.

When the PI in my lab at NCBS offered me a chance to get a masters in research, I accepted with eagerness. My husband and I moved here to India for his education, but if I could walk away with a degree as well, it would be two years well spent.

NCBS, or the National Centre for Biological Sciences, is a research institution in Bangalore, India that operates under the auspices of the Tata Foundation and in affiliation with the Indian Institute of Sciences. I started in a lab there through my REU connections at Princeton. Mukund, the PI, was a great help, opening his lab to me and doing his best to help me feel at home here in Bangalore. After a few months of driving to work everyday, Mukund approached me with an idea that he’d come up with to make my time in India more productive. NCBS has a masters option for people that they deem to be very worthy of a place there. The admissions committee didn’t want my transcript, only two or three references. The hurdle I had to overcome was the interview.

Now, in the US, an interview is not so much about demonstrating one’s ability as allowing both sides to get to know each other a little bit. Goals are discussed. Perhaps a gap in one’s education or experience is brought up, but the main focus is on personality. So I was a bit surprised when I was asked to walk to the board a few minutes into the interview. It turns out that, in India, an interview is closer to an oral exam.

To the credit of the guys in my lab, they did their best to prepare me. They let me know their experiences: Sugat had been terribly nervous, Vivek had tried once already to get into the Ph.D. program but hadn’t gotten past the interview. There was one guy who had been grilled for two hours on the finer points of physics. Mukund told me not to worry about it, that I would just be asked basic questions.

So I stood at the board in front of nine Indian professors, a little concerned about the language barrier and clutching at the dry erase marker that I’d been given. I wanted to be impressive for so many reasons. I felt I was representing Mukund and the US and women and Drew University and Dr. F. and on and on. They asked me what my focus was within physics. I went with optics as I’d not only taken a class in it but had also worked in Dr. McGee’s lab for a year and a half. The questions came at me and I choked. There’s no way around it. I choked. It was dreadful. It was like the dream where you show up to class naked. They took their time and were patient with me, but my fears and lack of preparation shined through.

When I thought it couldn’t possibly go on any longer, they began with questions about biology. How do you measure the volume of a cell with a microscope? I’d been warned about questions like this. How do you find the percentage of a body’s mass that is taken up by the blood? Experimental questions that, had I taken extensive biology classes, I still may not know. By this point, I was so defeated that I didn’t even attempt to come up with an answer.

Certainly, now, now it must be over. But there was one set of questions left to be answered. Ten quick queries to test…well, I’m not certain what it was meant to test. Plot x^2 + y^2 = 4. What is 38 written in Base 17? I did my best to make it through and then stumbled out the door.

Putting aside my frightful display, it’s interesting to note the difference between a higher institution in the US and its equal in India. While Ph.D. programs in the US are competitive it is nothing compared to the system here in India. With 1.1 billion people living here, according to the CIA factbook, and only a handful of government-approved institutions for higher learning, there is a logjam when it comes to applications. Schools have to be demanding of their applicants.

In order to get into any major engineering or science institution, the student must apply to take an entrance exam that is administered by the institution itself. This severely limits the number of schools that a person can apply to, as each has their own exam. And the exams are known to be tremendously difficult. One recent exam at one of the most competitive schools had the following question: A bear is sitting on a shelf and falls 10m. If it takes 1 sec to fall, what is the color of the bear?*

The top scores, perhaps 30 percent, are then invited to submit another application that includes an essay. From this batch, 5-10% are brought in for interviews. With as many as 3,000 people applying for 10-12 spots, the competition is fierce and the universities have come up with the best methods they can in order to narrow the field down. I couldn’t help but ask myself: if we used the same system in the US, would I even have a physics degree?
To be fair, there is a lot of talk within the Indian academic community about the need for more schools. And there was recently an article in the New York Times discussing how American universities are extending their institutions to the Indian subcontinent, through both the internet and affiliations, in order to offer alternatives to a system that is lacking. They need more schools here. But I couldn’t help wondering.

Unfortunately, things did not work out for me at NCBS. Between visa problems and my debacle of an interview I was not able to enroll. I was invited by one of the professors to try again in six months, but by that time it will be too late to complete the program in time for our departure from India. I have instead applied to Georgia Tech to complete a masters of science in medical physics, which they administer as a distance learning course. My departure from NCBS is equal parts embarrassment from my poor performance and a desire to study something that will directly contribute to my future goals. Fortunately, Georgia Tech won’t ask me to fly to Atlanta for an interview with nine of their most challenging professors!

*The answer is white. I made up these numbers for demonstration. You’re meant to solve for acceleration, make note that it is larger than the accepted value, realize that the accepted value is taken closer to the equator, reason that farther away from the equator one travels the stronger gravity is and deduce that only polar bears live at the poles. Congratulations to those who got it.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

The Peace Trust and UCC

Just a few hours before Palm Sunday began, Elizabeth, myself, and our friend Alison (Ali), arrived in Kanyakumari, which is the southern-most tip of India. It is a beautiful place where three seas converge – the Bay of Bengal to the East, the Arabian Sea to the West, and the Indian Ocean to the South. Because of our relationship with Rev. Wesley Ariarajah at Drew Theological School in New Jersey, we were invited to stay at an institution called The Peace Trust. On the Monday following Palm Sunday, we were privileged to meet with the founder and director of the Peace Trust, Rev. Dr. Gnana Robinson, who was a one-time classmate of Rev. Ariarajah's in Bangalore.

Just prior to our meeting with him, we sat in on an orientation meeting that he was directing. This was an orientation of about 200 students (all young women) who were beginning a program at the Peace Trust. This vocational training curriculum for women is a part of the Tsunami Relief and Rehabilitation program organized by the Peace Trust. In the small town of Kanyakumari, 772 men, women, and children lost their lives in the Tsunami of 2004, not to mention all of the families who lost all their possessions. This program at the Peace Trust provides free food, housing, and vocational training in culturally specific trades, such as candle making, arts and crafts, or other pragmatic trades that provide means for women to financially support themselves and their families while also meeting the needs of their communities.

We were very proud to learn that this Tsunami Relief vocational program for women is almost entirely funded by Global Ministries, a mission of the United Church of Christ and the Disciples of Christ. The UCC/DC committed to support the program for three years, beginning just after the Tsunami in December 2004. The program has been a tremendous success and I would encourage the UCC to continue their financial support beyond the three-year commitment, perhaps committing to an additional three years.

The Tsunami Relief vocational program is only one of many programs at the Peace Trust. Their primary goal is inter-religious dialogue and peacemaking (Mathew 5:9). I asked Rev. Dr. Robinson what we could do to support the Peace Trust. He handed us a form that contains a ten-fold covenant. I am going to type the covenant below and I encourage you all to read it. You can easily make this covenant on your own in your daily life. Each aspect of the covenant is based in scriptural passages which I will place in parentheses. If you see fit to make a contribution, either as an individual or as an institution, please contact me or send your contribution as a money order to:

The Convener, The Prophetic Forum for the Life and Witness of the Churches in India (PFLWCI)

Peace Trust Kanyakumari
Anjukootuvilai Road
Kanyakumari, TamilNadu 629-702
India

If you wish, you may include this signed covenant and mention that you learned of the Peace Trust through us, but that is not necessary. This is a wonderful, wonderful mission that is truly enacting this mission of the Kingdom of God and it would be an excellent organization for you or your church family to support as you see fit.

  1. I will prayerfully try to discern the Will of God in every given situation and obey the Will of God, whatever the cost may be (Luke 22:42; John 4:34, 5:30, 6:38ff, 7:17, 9:31; Matthew 7:21, 12:50; Mark 3:35)
  2. I know the Will of God is always to do Good and to save life (Deu 30:15; Jer 21:8; Mark 3:1-4, 2:27)
  3. I acknowledge that the purpose of God becoming human in Jesus is to give holistic life to all humans irrespective of caste, race, creed, color, and gender. This, I believe, is the Good News (Gospel) to the poor. I commit myself to proclaim and practice this Gospel. (Luke 4:18-19; John 3:16, 17:2)
  4. The Church, as such, is a "Called Out Community" sent back into the world with a mission to give fullness of life to all people. I, therefore, acknowledge that the mission of the Church is primarily to those to whom "fullness of life" is denied – the poor, the marginalized, the exploited, the down-trodden, the refugees, the Dalits and the oppressed. I, therefore commit myself. (1 Peter 2:9; John 17:18)
  5. Not to indulge in any activity that will bring harm to others, even to those who do harm to me, and to abstain from personalized politics (Hosea 11:9; Matthew 18:22; luke 15:11-24, 22:34; Colossians 3:12-13)
  6. Not to compromise with any evil, even if it should mean cross for me (Matthew 4:1-11, Mark 10:43-45; Romans 12:2)
  7. Not to succumb to the temptations of personal gains, however attractive they may be (Luke 14:33; Mark 8:34)
  8. Not to remain silent in the face of gross injustice happening before me, but to break my silence and to protest against injustice that threatens the lives of the people (2 Samuel 12:7-9; 1 Kings 21:20; Amos 3:8; Jer 20:9; Mark 11:17; and many, many others)
  9. To be in solidarity with all the victims of injustice and to join in their struggle for liberation and in their search for wholesome human life (Mark 2:15-16, 17; Matthew 9:10-11; Luke 5:29-30)
  10. To be faithful to the One who called me until the end of my life. (2 Timothy 4:7; 1 Cor 1:9, 10:12; James 1-2)

Friday, April 06, 2007

Pragmatic Philosophy for Easter

Anyone who has made any effort to read and digest philosophy, whether it is the Holy Scriptures, Theology, or any other kind of philosophical thought will agree that philosophy is usually challenging. I have also heard many people (friends, family, fellow students, strangers) argue that philosophy is impractical. They often argue that philosophy and theology are simply academic exercises where scholars gather and argue of things that have no bearing upon daily life. Some even argue that philosophers and theologians should devote their lives to something of greater substance that affects the daily lives of people in need. I want to try, as best as I can in a brief blog entry, to respond to claims such as these.

Science, as it is generally understood, is usually concerned with the questions “how?” or “what?” For example, “What is cancer?” or “How does cancer reproduce?” Both of these questions are steps taken to eventually answer the question, “How can we cure cancer or alleviate the suffering that it causes?” When scientists ask questions such as these, no one inquires as to whether or not these questions are pragmatic because the practical application of these questions are very obvious and there is clearly a great need to answer these questions. Since I lost both grandmothers to cancer and since my niece has been diagnosed with leukemia, the pragmatism of these endeavors is all the more evident.

Philosophy (which includes theology), is nearly always concerned with the questions “Why?” or “what is the meaning of ___?” For example, a theologian may ask, “If God is wholly Good, all powerful, and all knowing, then why does cancer exist? Why do bad things happen to good people? If God is omni-present, then where does evil exist and why?” To some, the answer seems clear. They would say that God gave humans free will and because humans are not perfect, they sometimes choose sin over righteousness. This, however, doesn’t seem to explain cancer. Also, it would lead us to ask, “if heaven exists and if humans have free will in heaven, then is there sin and suffering in heaven? If we say that humans in heaven have free will, but always choose righteousness and never choose sin, then we are back to our first question again – why didn’t God create heaven in the first place – where humans have free will but always choose righteousness?”

Critics might dismiss these questions and say that there is no answer – or at least that we are incapable of understanding the answers. I agree with that. However, just because they are unanswerable does not mean that there are not very practical, pragmatic reasons to try, as best as we are able, to understand these questions better.

The reason, as I see it, is that because we have free will, we have a responsibility to try and choose what is right, as best as we can. We usually make decisions based on what we believe to be true. But belief is all about “why?”. For example, a scientist tries to cure cancer because he/she believes that all humans should have the very best chance to experience the fullness of life with as little suffering as possible. People in our society find it shocking and even upsetting if someone ever asks the question “Why should we cure cancer?”

Many questions are exactly the same as this question, but many people seem to ignore the questions altogether. For example, “why do we live in a world where food is abundant, but 44,000 people every single day die of starvation?” “Why is it that we value the human life of those in our own country more than the lives of humans in other parts of the world?” “Why do many Christians celebrate the sacrifice of Jesus but seem reluctant to honor that sacrifice by sacrificing for the sake of others?”

We don’t ask the question “why should we cure cancer” because we already know the answer – the answer is because all people deserve fullness of life that is as free as possible from suffering. Because we know the answer, we jump straight to science and ask scientists to tell us “what is cancer?” and “How can we cure it?” Philosophers and Theologians want us to approach other questions in a similar fashion. For example, once we answer the question, “why do we live in a world where food is abundant, but 44,000 people every single day die of starvation?” then we SHOULD ask “what is wrong with our system of civilization?” and then ask “How do we find a cure for those problems?”

Allow me to elaborate with a brief example from our history.

There was a time, over four centuries ago, when the question was asked, “Are Native Americans human?” There were philosophers and theologians that argued on both sides of the question. For people of that time, the answer was not self-evident as it may be to us today. There was a legal council where both sides were argued and the King of Spain considered both sides of the question. A man named De las Casas argued that Native Americans were humans and must be treated as humans with the same basic human rights as Spaniards and other Europeans. The king sided with de las Casas and the enslavement of Native Americans came to an end. However, the very same man, de las Casas, and the very same King of Spain decided that Native Africans were not human. That marked the beginning of African slavery in North and South America. The Constitution of the United States declared that slaves were 3/5 human and 2/5 non-human. A philosopher by the name of Benjamin Franklin objected. He voted against the Constitution and refused to be considered as a candidate for President. He spent the rest of his life fighting for the abolition of slavery on the grounds that Africans were human and deserved the same basic human rights as non-African humans.

I hope that this history is not unfamiliar to people, particularly North and South Americans. However, I mention it here because I think it is an important demonstration of the practical use of philosophy. Philosophy and Theology are primarily concerned with questions like “What is a human person?” or “Why is one living thing called ‘human’ and another thing ‘non-human’?” Also, “Why do we hold some people to be more valuable than others? Should this be so? Why don’t we change this?”

Elizabeth, Ali, and I had a powerful and upsetting experience yesterday. We arrived in Pondicherry at the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. I will leave her to blog about that experience, but my blog is, in large part, a reaction to those experiences. Basically, Aurobindo was an Oxford-educated philosopher of the 20th Century who argued that each and every individual person is as valuable as any group of persons. To him, institutions, governments, and even religious groups often overlook that each person is unique and that diversity is every bit a part of our unity as our similarities. While we should always strive to work together to make the world a better place, where all people can experience the fullness of life free from as much suffering as possible, we must never forsake the fact that we have been Created by God as individual persons who are unique and valuable. For Aurobindo, it is not because we are the same that we should listen to one another and work together, it is because we are unique and special. There is a Western Philosopher, Wittgenstein, that made a similar statement. He said, “I am not less important than you. I am not more important than you. I am not equally as important as you. I am a unique and special person, and so are you.” Sri Aurobindo said that “our Unity is fulfilled in our diversity.”

Please forgive me for the length of this blog. I have tried to make my argument as brief as possible. As a philosopher and as a theologian, though, I deeply believe that philosophy and theology are very pragmatic/practical endeavors. In my humble opinion, we simply must ask “why do I value this person this way and that person another way? Why do I live my life the way that I do? Why does this person live her/his life the way that they do?” Ultimately, all of these questions are part and parcel of the ultimate philosophical/theological question: “Why am I here? What am I called to do? How should I live my life today, tomorrow, and everyday?” These are unanswerable questions, but this does not mean that we should not live every single day with these questions in mind. If our lives and our choices – our exercise of free-will – are not guided by our best attempts to answer these questions, then what is our life guided by? My philosophy and my theology leads me to the belief that everyday I must humbly bow before God and pray that I might discern my purpose. Every single day, I believe that God answers these questions. Many days, I am too wrapped up in the trivial comings-and-goings of life to recognize God’s answer – but even on those days, I believe that God has provided the answers. The reason I believe this because on those other days – the days that I am open and receptive to God’s discerning call, I am able to receive those answers. It is my belief that God provides these answers every day, regardless of whether or not we ask those questions. But when we prayerfully ask, we are more open and receptive to receive the answers.
Returning to my opening statement, philosophy and theology are challenging. Sometimes, they are challenging because we do not understand the questions. Other times, though, they are challenging because we do know the answers. In light of Easter Sunday, I invite you all to read Mark’s account of the empty tomb in Mark 16:1-8. We are told that Mary, Mary, and Salome “went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” As theologians, we all must ask, why were they afraid? Were they afraid because they did not understand? OR, were they afraid because they did understand? They had been told to go to Galilee. (Mark 16:7) Perhaps they were afraid because they knew that it was their turn (and our turn) to follow in the footsteps of Jesus and sacrifice for the sake of those who could not experience the fullness of life free from as much suffering as possible. Perhaps they remembered what Jesus said in Mark 8:34 “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”