Tuesday, 19.01.2010.
This morning at 9am (or 9:30, Indian time) was a meeting of the teachers. Over the next two hours, we discussed issues, such as what to do for Republic Day (January 26th), upcoming tris and workshops, the yearbook, and whether or not we should celebrate the festival for Saraswati, the Goddess of Knowledge and Art and Music.
After the meeting dissolved, several of us jumped into a van (in a manner of speaking... one doesn't really do these things right away in India... there is naturally a bit of hemming, hawing and futzing about first, until everyone feels the time has come) and went to town to find a statue of the Goddess for the shrine, which was to be built in one of the classrooms. Technically, this sort of thing really ought to be done outside, but the general consensus was that it's too cold. In the van, considerable arguing commenced about the how big or small the statue should be, and of course how much was an acceptable amount to spend on it. After striking out a few times (who knew that the day before a festival, a statue of the celebrated Goddess would be so hard to come by?) we finally stopped by the home/business of a man who stages with his company all-night theater, dance, music and storytelling productions. Behind an iron gate stood life-sized statues of Ganesh, Hanuman and many other Gods and Goddesses (Saraswati among them), brilliantly painted and draped with shimmering cloth and golden tinsel.
We banged on the gate for a while, and finally two men appeared- one, an older man with a long dark beard and big, dark, shining eyes (the leader of the performers) and a young man who said nothing in either Hindi or English, but washed our hands before we entered the house, and sort of stood on call, jumping up every once in a while to check something, then coming back to the circle. We sat in a circle, drank tea, ate biscuits, and talked about life (or rather, they talked and Gautam translated a bit, we talked, and he translated more...). After a while, they asked how much it would cost to borrow the Goddess for a couple of days, and the old man responded, "God has no price."- meaning that we could have her for nothing at all. In the end, we were presented with a kind of blessed trailmix- dried fruits, coconut and puffed rice. Did I feel blessed? Absolutely.
We loaded our Goddess into the back of the van, and drove back to the school, where a frame for the shrine was already underway- composed of bamboo, classroom tables and twine.
After lunch, Sandra, Sandy and I headed back over to see how they were getting on. The frame was almost completed, and the process of decoration had begun. Clothes were draped and hung, and the three of us undertook covering the central bit of the frame with bits of coloured paper. Someone brought in plants and coloured lights- including one spotlight for the honourable lady, herself. By the time we had finished (though work was still being done) it was looking quite festive, indeed. A wonderful way to celebrate the goddess of knowledge and art- I was so taken with how all of this sprang out of nowhere!
On our way back to the house, we were met with calls of "Good evening, ma'am!" from the schoolyard and rooftops.
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