Let Thy Light Shine: Maya Angelou!

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Universities are not exempt from the class system that corrupts almost every society, and so the kind of education you get at universities varies with their status.  What students are exposed to at their respective universities depends on their status and their standing in a society.  When you get an education at a 'good' school, you may or may not get much information that can help you with career or life in general, you may feel lost in a class of 750 students, but you sure do get an 'education' with regards to 'exposure'

I think that is what PSU gave me. I had dreamt of attending the University and even though by the time I arrived there I was tired and bitter and cynical--since I had lived nearly a decade on my own and was in the middle of the most 'intensive learning periods' of my life--with regards to learning out human natures--I knew that my stay there will change me in many ways I could not imagine.  

From the first year when I got to hear Carl Sagan for free, and Billy Joel for barely twenty dollars --(if we do not count standing in the que for three hours on a freezing day) to watching some of the most famous Broadway plays as summer presentations ---my years at PSU both times were filled with rich cultural experiences.  

It was during those lectures that the likes of Jim Lovell (from Apollo 13--I think Tom Hanks played him in the movie),  LIsa Ling (the TV broadcaster), Erin Brocovitch, F. W. De Clerk (President credited with brokering the end of apartheid in South Africa), Magic Johnson (although he cancelled due to health issues, seriously, he does not need an intro), Bill Clinton (neither does he) and Dr. Maya Angelou were invited to the University.

Most of these lectures were free and often filled to the last seat.  Still, it was quite easy to get the tickets because most of these events would be housed in auditoriums that could easily house anywhere from 3-30,000 people.  But the main point behind these events was exposing students and other people associated with the University to the giants in our contemporary world.  

When I hear about Dr. Maya Angelou, I knew I had to go listen to her.  I had read both 'I rise' and "Phenomenal Woman' a hundred times. I had heard the latter in Oprah's voice, I had even hear Dr. Angelou's voice the day Clinton was sworn in.  I had to go.  It was a part of history. As much as I questioned the US, it is these giants that I looked up to.  

And so I went. I remember taking some grading with me, since I arrived there ahead of time to sit in peace.  I ran into a few other people I knew at the lecture.  As always they looked at me weird because I was alone--but like watching a movie, listening to a lecture or a classical music concert should always be done alone, we experience a lot more that way, or so I think.

But the moment she started talking I was in awe of her.  Even at a ripe age, she giggled like a child, made jokes that left us smiling for minutes after she had cracked them.  I was amazed at her spirit, she had turned the entire auditorium light with her presence.  One of her very cute joke was, 'my right knee had been bothering me for a while, but lately my left knee has become sympathetic to the right one, and started behaving exactly she her'.

I loved how she took a serious challenge that comes with age and reduces mobility in light…and I was sure that her approach made her stand taller and walk farther than she normally would.

But the best lesson she gave me that day, that I need to remind myself of now more than ever was, 'that we all come with our own light and that it is our duty, our obligation, our purpose to let that light shine.'

That when we do not, we not only do ourselves a disservice but also deprive the world of what we can offer and put a block in its evolution.

At the end of that lecture, a young Journalism student had asked me to comment on the talk. I did, and when she asked me my name, I coyly said, 'Susan B. Anthony'.

I mean seriously, I could do anything, I had to let my light shine.

But when I saw the young girl almost jot the name down, I held her hand and gave her my real name.

But it was Dr. Angelou's infectious spirit that made me feel light inside, and dare to think that I could compare myself to women who had made a difference.

When exactly a month ago, the media was talking non stop about her, I was reminded of that story.  So grateful that I attended that lecture, and with every news story I wanted to scream, 'i heard her talk, I heard her talk'.

That is what I mean by 'an education' beyond just a degree. These lectures serve as a nudge for reviewing our own lives, often as a possibility to see our lives be much bigger than they can be, and to realize how much more we are capable of contributing, only if we see ourselves as a strand in the web, rather than a lone traveller through this planet. 

While, I had let the lesson (shine thine light) slip by, may be it is time to ponder about points that the late poet had emphasized.

May be it is time to 'rise again', it is time be 'as phenomenal' as we can be, and 'sing' our song.

Thanks Dr. Maya Angelou, we know it is your light that shone so bright --that made the universe feel that its reach ought to be expanded, and you were called to be at better places to share the delightful company of so many greats who have gone before you.

You will be missed, but we will always know you by your light. 

Wild Strawberries: Smultron

The perfumed berries are synonymous with Swedish summer!

Although Wild Strawberries evoke Scandinavian country side in our minds, the plants were brought from Persia through silk route to Europe!!

When I was first moving here and my colleagues emailed me to ask me what kind of a place would I like to live at, I had said, 'Where wild strawberries grow!!"

I don't think they got it, but I was referring to one of the famous movies that is associated with Sweden, 'Wild Strawberries'.  Called Smulstronstallet, in Swedish, literarily meaning 'Wild strawberry patch', it refers to a place that one regards nostalgically.  

While I had referred to Smultron (wild strawberries) I had never seen them, let alone tasted them.  Two years ago, someone pointed out that tiny little red berries that I saw when I opened the backdoor, or sometimes under trees by the roadside, or wild patches of wildly growing flowers, were Wild Strawberries. 

Since then I have made sure to pick them up, at least a few times every summer.  Whenever I do, I am so filled with joy, that I admire them for a while before I taste them.

They taste and feel of summer, fresh, sweet, fragrant and bright!!

Somethings that come with travel, especially this crazy travel of having lived-in different places….you know your life through the routines in that country, what you remember, what you waited for, and how you knew seasons and passage of time.

In India, I waited for flowering of the Amaltas.  The delicate yellow flowers that hung from trees lit Delhi streets every May and my heart would stop every time I looked at them, as if their blooming is what it waited for--all spring.  

In Botswana it was the Jaqueranda flowers, though common in Delhi, I never noticed much until I lived in southern Botswana.  The trees would become all purple at the top and I would just stare at them. 

In the US it was always the daffodils and tulips, when daffodils showed their bright yellow selves I knew cold'n crisp had turned to fresh'n fragrant and roads would be buzzing with the young on their skateboards.  You could buy daffodils for cheap and they would brighten your tables for days.

In Fiji, I always waited for frangipani and gulmohar to return.  In november, the bald trees of Frangipani would start flowering.  You could not make a bouquet out of them, but you smelled them when you walked under these large trees that would be covered with leaves and flowers in summers.  Both frangipani and gulmohar grow in India too.  In fact, gulmohar had been in our garden in Delhi, but years in the US made me forget what joy the tree brought every year.  When I looked at down at the trees from my friends house, who was our adjacent neighbor--two floors up-- the tree would seem like a huge bouquet.  So my joy at seeing gulmohar in bloom in Fiji was boundless.  For over three years I awaited their return.  

And in Sweden, we await green, in general, after the harshness of white that stays with us for a very long time.  But it is the smell of perfumed flowers and berries that makes it for Swedish summer.

So, with all the questioning and complaints of having to hop and move continents, there are rewards of having seen and lived with so much. Yet, the important thing is that traveling is not the same as living in one place for a long time.  It allows us connection with people, just as much as with nature.  We await seasons with anticipation, and each season, each turn ---colors us with its own special memories.

The sound, taste and images of Smultron for me, will never be without numerous other memories of winters before and autumn after the very fragrant Swedish summers. 

Swedish Sweetness!!

A shopping plaza from a roadside bench at 11 pm! May, Sweden 2014

A shot of newly stolen Lupins from the roadside, with shopping plaza as the background. May, Sweden 2014

The above two pictures were taken around the shopping plaza, very much designed like the American  shopping plazas, at 11 pm. June, 2014

Two of my students showed up....the table looks much richer than it was, I think it was the love that made everything look bigger and larger, June, 2014

One of the things that I have talked about ever since I came to Sweden is the kindness. I have heard so many stories about Swedes not being warm people, but I have found that to be the opposite. I have been told that that may be because I work at a University.  

Well, I do not mind.  If that be the reason that I feel a sense of community, a feeling of camaraderie with my colleagues, so be it.

I have had a few incidents here that have made me feel so cared for.  More than any other country I have ever lived in, with the exception of India.  The Pacific and Africa were great too, but what is different here is that, one, I get assistance from both strangers and those known to me. Second, this friendship and connection happened quite early on.  Thirdly, and more importantly, that it I never asked for help --even in the beginning and yet people came to help  me. And lastly, that in all these years I am still I touch with those who left the country nearly three years ago, on a regular basis--both students and some colleagues, which is an indication of depth of relationships. 

In the last four years in the country,  I have had so many experiences where I feel 'seen', that sometimes I wonder, why do I think I ever want to leave.  Not to mention that I have come to love its extreme weather.  While winters are hard and depressing, the long summer days are a great compensation.  

Starting the very first semester I was invited to so many parties and to so many of my friends and colleagues homes that I could not believe it was the same Sweden that I had heard so much about----mainly its coldness.  But all I felt was the warmth.

From, the very first friend I made, the very first week, who invited me to a party, where I ended up connecting with colleagues from work..even before I started working with them--to people I met a year or two after I moved here, I could feel a connection, a warmth.    In fact, I met a woman on the plane when I first moved to Sweden who took my email and contacted me right away....so my stay here started on a good note. 

My colleague Dan has helped me more times than I can count....all without my asking. I never had to ask and he came always with advice and sometimes with plants and cantrells (a special yellow mushroom).  

So, I am the first to talk about how warm people can be in this cold place.  I know for sure that I will actually keep in touch with many of these people.  But more importantly my memories of people in Sweden are not the memories of meeting many in the hallway, or having one odd conversation....the memories have been created over several 'fikas paus' (coffee break/s), random meetings in corridors, home visits, walks, meals cooked and eaten together, phone calls, text messages and emails. 

When I first arrived here, I was a bit burnt from before and did not want to be close to the students.  I have always been close to my students but often times I realised that they took kindness for weakness.  So, I had stepped away.  But my first semester when I was teaching only masters classes, and my students were  from all over the world....about four different continents, I was surprised at their warmth.  The first semester I kept them at bay, still being very fearful.  By the beginning of the second semester they all had adopted me, I was invited to all their get togethers, they had surprise parties for me and would often bring a pizza to my house so we could all share.  The first two years were 'made heavenly' by these students.  While none of them was Swedish, I think it was Sweden's gentleness that allowed them to express their love as well, in combination with their own grand souls.  

Two days ago, two of my students came over for an evening coffee.  One swedish and one german.  The german girl, who is leaving the country, and has been at another university for the last semester, had written and said she wanted to connect before leaving.  But the best thing was that in the last year that I have known her, she has kept in touch via email and sometimes Facebook.  

I have always felt that it was the stories that we knew of each other that helped us know them more, slowly and over a period of time---it is the stories that bind us!!.  And I even read the same in a recent story in the New York Times.

So, in my department I know the stories of most of my colleagues, how they met their partners, their childhood stories, their love for pets, dislike of certain vegetables, hopes and desires for a different life.  

The top two pictures (with ICA sign and Lupins in the frame) were taken from a bench by the roadside, on my way home after grocery shopping, after 11 pm.  As I sat down to rest, because dragging my food trolley was really hard, a car stopped by, just to check on me, if I needed help.  I waved a signal that they needn't be concerned, I was just resting. They waved back and drove away.

And I sat there a little longer, just smiling, in the late evening light of Sweden, and feeling the warmth of human spirit, especially here in Sweden, even as the evening air had become a bit sharp.