Just for the sake of itself...a shot outside IKEA, a man rushes with his buys, the shaft of sun from above makes it all dreamy and 'heaven like'!!
Ah, the princess cake.....
Two of the students at the party
The following post was begun last September. But as time is rare and there are a gazillion things to do, I could not put this together in a formal way. I jotted down some notes almost a year ago and just got back to it a few weeks ago. So here it is, celebration of people, with a mountain of gratitude.
September 6
Three days ago, my second year masters students came to my office for a quick chat. We have about 6 second year masters student this year. Two of them moved to another University for they were more interested in management. There are about 15 first years. I have not worked with them yet. So the breakdown of nationality represented second year MA students
Armenia, Belarus, Brazil, China, Iraq/Sweden, Morroco, Spain.
The second year masters students were my first class in this country. You always have a special affection for the first class you teach, like the first-borns have a special place in the heart of parents. Since I have lived and taught in so many places, there is special bond with all my first classes.
Two of the students informed me that one of their classmates will be leaving for a few weeks. And they wanted to have a small cozy party for him. They wanted to invite me. For the last two years, I have had this feeling that I should not get close to students. Everyone always tells me that it is unprofessional and can cloud our judgment when grading etc. I do agree with clouding of the judgment, but I also think since I call no place home, these young people become my first kind-of-a-family. But more importantly, it is what I impart to them beyond books that counts the most for me. I talk about theories, but can never think it is complete until I relate it to real life. Like Joseph Campbell said, ‘if you really want to teach, you will have to teach how to live in this world, how to function in this world.’ I begin and end every semester with a story that the students can take with them into the real world. Many of them have come years later to tell me that they remember the stories I told them, and have kept the quotes and notes I would share with them on the last day of the semester.
For my very first University class ( I taught school for sometime before I started teaching at the University). I remember I made book marks from handmade, but bought paper. Each book mark had a quote written on it. So in all, I made nearly 150 book marks that semester. For another class, I got copies of a favorite book. I was told later that this could be misconstrued, that people could think that I was trying to get in their good graces. First, I never thought about it. Secondly, most of this happened on the last day by which all the evaluations are in. Since then, and some other events later, I have been cautious. It has always been hard for me to separate the personal and the professional. I see people as people. When people say to me, you have good contacts, I have to stop and think. Because all these people for me are actually ‘good people’ not good contacts.
So, when a week before the classes started and the masters students asked me to join for a quick snack with them at the restaurant across from the university, I was touched and yet reluctant.
But when I got an invitation to a party, I simply said that I will show up, but late. They were fine with it. It was a Saturday. I had things to do in the morning. My sister called me sometime mid day and it was important that I talk to her at length. When I got a friendly reminder from my students that they were expecting me, I told them I will be late.
Another reminder nearly at 5 pm and I politely said, “Give me about 2 hrs”
‘Two hrs’ said L, a bit taken aback, the most polite of all my students.
‘Ok, ok, I will be there. But how do I get there.?”
“Oh, we are meeting at J's place, and we will send D to pick you up, at Pressbyran” (Pressbyran, is the 7/11 version of Scandinavia, although it hardly 7/11, meaning it closes latest by 8 pm, throughout the year).
I walked up, dressed casually in my sweat suit, and my unruly hair, desperately in the need of a cut, was everywhere.
On the way, we talked about life. We talked about school. I had been in the country about 8 months, out of which about 6 wks I had spent out of town and out of the country. This was my first time seeing that part of the town.
As I walked in, one of my students greeted me very warmly. It seemed that they were waiting for me to have dinner. So, I felt really bad for making them wait. But I felt even…..as I walked in…
There was a princess cake on the table, and one of my other students was lighting a candle. Then I remembered that two of the students had actually sent me birthday greetings via email. We are not connected on the facebook and I did not remember telling them about my birthday. This year, I had pulled a stunt on facebook by simply threatening people to wish me a very happy birthday. I had given all those who missed out 48 hrs to wish me a very happy birthday. And many of my good friends complied. It was the most beautiful experience, even though it was a bit attention-seeking.
In Fiji, I had started to throw myself birthday parties. I did that twice. It was better than being sad and depressed. I learnt that from someone I admire very much. And even though it is a bit embarrassing, I never regretted it, because it gave me a chance to see how many people would just be there….especially since I never told them it was my birthday. Some would get mad, others would promise to return with a gift, but most of them would make it.
This time, I did not throw a party, I simply made a crazy announcement on facebook--and I am not even a facebook person. I hardly write any notes there. So grateful to all those who did pen me a note on my facebook wall.
These students of mine, had barely known me. I had taught them a class and a half, but we had not had many conversations. We had hardly exchanged much information. And there I was standing in the middle of their apartment, dressed like I was ready to roll in the mud, in shock, that someone would remember and celebrate my birthday nearly four weeks after the actual date.
“We were not in the country for your birthday’ one of them said.
I was still in shock, my right hand covered my mouth and the left hand was on my forehead. But deep down I was grateful.
I had one other grand story of my birthday celebration, and I will write that else where on the blog.
All of them had cooked. So the food was unique, delicious and quite artistic I might say.
By the way, Princess cake, which I ate for the first time here, is one of the most popular cakes in Scandinavia. A sponge cake, layered with strawberry filling or/and whipped cream is covered by a generous layer of marzipan, often colored green, although I have seen blue ones as well. Marzipan, as all food lovers know, is made from almond paste. As rich as the cake Is, it seems very light when eating.
The whole thing was organized by J and L. I knew for sure.
J was laughing and urging me to move quickly towards the cake so I could blow out the candles and make a wish. But how do you make a wish when your heart is full? Would we need to make any wishes when our heart is full? Afterall, we make wishes to be filled with what we consider ‘love and happiness’. I was swimming in it, at the moment. I closed my eyes, blew out the candles, and was grateful for everything, including these beautiful thoughtful souls.
J was laughing and urging me to move quickly towards the cake so I could blow out the candles and make a wish. But how do you make a wish when your heart is full? Would we need to make any wishes when our heart is full? Afterall, we make wishes to be filled with what we consider ‘love and happiness’. I was swimming in it, at the moment. I closed my eyes, blew out the candles, and was grateful for everything, including these beautiful thoughtful souls.
Ofcourse there was a beautiful handmade card and gifts from around the world. I kept telling myself this is so unreal. I was so touched and so deeply moved that I had no words for a very long time (and may be that is why the delay in putting this up.)
I cannot express the feeling--but it is close to being home. When our heart and mind are parked inside the same body. Like one could stay put forever. Like, we are embarrassed to have complained about anything.
And like always, as I walked out, a song came to mind. And old movie song. Its a love song, but there is a section that would fit here.
[I was given] so much joy [that]
My eyes [and heart] cannot contain
Let me close my eyes
Lest the happiness [spill] drain
On my way home I closed my eyes for a few seconds, I was truly afraid that I might not be able to contain the immense joy of being loved, of being on the beneficiary side of some thoughtful caring young people. Such experiences expand our hearts, our beings, and remind us, of how these simple things --caring, loving, sharing, smiles, hugs, concerns, empathy, compassion, are not the by products, not the secondary but the primary foundation, the main glue that holds this world together. That mere theories and strategies would make the world brittle. It is truly, this ocean of compassion that encourages and supports us to swim in this world’s unclear waters--it is the hope that some compassionate one will be by our side and that we will enjoy the ride, the swim.....the dive....
May the compassionate live long!!
