I Leave Tomorrow!

mini · August 19, 2011, 3:49am

So, in the last several days, I have seen a few pilgrims on the highway, headed south. They are easy to pick out - dressed in the traditional orange of a pilgrim, carrying very little, though occasionally a flag. I noticed that some of the flags had the Virgin Mary on them. Usually barefoot. Men and women.

Well, today, it is more than a few. It is hundreds. Walking by the side of the highway. Or on the median, or lying down in the center of the highway (away from the cows). Sometimes in twos or three, sometimes in tens.

So I asked my driver (who is Muslim), my adopted sister (Hindu), and the director of the school (Christian) what is happening. I haven’t been in Tamil Nadu in August in awhile, so this is a pilgrimage with which I am not acquainted.

Are they Christians, I asked? No, mostly Hindus. Some Muslems, some Christians (only Catholics). They are walking 300+ kilometers to Nagore - a Muslim pilgrimage site, and then to the Velankanni Church (right near where I was), a 16th Century church founded by shipwrecked Portuguese sailors that looks like a cathedral covered in cake frosting:

[Velankanni</a> Church Vailankanni Church Vailankanni Shrine Annai Vailankanni Velankanni Mathavu Our Lady of Good Health Lourdes Of The East History of Vailankanni Location Map of Vailankanni Location Map of Tamil Nadu Detailed Map of Vailankanni Shrine](<a href=“http://www.velankannichurch.com/]Velankanni”>http://www.velankannichurch.com/)

(I am remember my first visit there, some 30 years ago, and especially the sign nearby - “Christian Tonsure and Ear-Boring Hall”.)

Seems that it is not seen at all odd that Hindus and Christians will go pray at the Muslim site at Nagore, and then at the Christian church. They will likely stop at a Muruga (Hindu) temple along the way - Muruga is a favorite god among the Muslims, and, in fact, in Jaffna, Sri Lanka, there is a Muruga Temple which is primarily a Muslim worship site. No one sees, or even thinks about, any contradictions in this. It’s just the way things wok.

Meanwhile, Anna Hazare has left prison to begin his anti-corruption fast. The Mumbai dabbawallahs (tiffin carriers), all 5,000 of them, have gone on a one-day strike in support - their first day off in 120 years! 200,000 lunches aren’t going to be delivered today. McDosa will have a field day!

Today, I learned about the “Optative Case” - a special verbal construction used only to express one’s desires. It is used primarily in congratulations (though can be used in greeting politicians "Long Live XYZ!) There is a way of saying “hello” in Tamil which is essentially “Live Long and Prosper” (Didn’t know Spock was a Tamil).

You can also say “May you have the 16 prosperities.” Literally, you say, “May you give birth to the 16 prosperities.” For a time it was thought to mean “May you be blessed with 16 children.” Nowadays, that might be considered a curse. So it is back to the 16 prosperities - some from Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and fecundity, some form Saraswati - education, learning, and the arts, Parvati - for power and etc. I am going to run down the 16.

parent1986 · August 19, 2011, 10:12pm

The article in the NYT about Anna had some interesting comments from people who claimed to have known him a long time.

parent1986 · August 19, 2011, 10:19pm

and that lit up church is spectacular - the white one reminds me of a Mormon church in la Jolla

mini · August 20, 2011, 3:52am

14th Tamil Class - Tenglish

India is the largest English-speaking country in the world. More than 350 million speakers, and more everyday. And more “native speakers” all the time, though it is quite hard to figure out exactly what that means. Thirty years ago, I used to meet Anglo-Indians - with clipped British English that their families had spoken often for more than 100 years. I don’t see that anymore.

But there are lots of second generation English speakers among the rich and upper middle class where the first language a child is taught in the home is English. True, s/he has to communicate with the servants in the local vernacular, but, with a decidedly Indian lilt, English is what you hear from the kids, and many of them can’t speak to their grandparents well, though they can understand them.

In Chennai, there are many folks from North India. While some Tamils know Hindi. north Indians don’t learn Tamil. They just don’t. So the main language of many businesses is English. There are dozens of schools advertising that they teach “American English”, with American teachers commanding large sums to unIndianize the local pattoir.

Dominoes Pizza is all over the place.They import virtually everything, and it is as bad an excuse for a pizza here as it is stateside. No sausage, and the pepperoni is (I am told) made of chicken. There are also “chicken tikka pizzas”, “chicken masala pizzas” and a host of other varieties. No mutton goes on pizza. Same thing happened at MickeyD’s. I seem to remember them trying lamb burgers 25 years ago, but now it is only chicken. And, it seems, meat-eating Hindus have picked up Muslims’ aversion to pork.

Tamil picks up English words with abandon. I tell my driver in proper Tamil to turn right, and he’ll say, “Oh, so you want right side”. Even among Tamil-speaking folks, in upper class households, you can pepper the cook with English words, and you’ll usually get what you are looking for. (Doesn’t work where I spend most of my time.)

Today I learned intransitive/transitive/causative forms. In theory, not very different than English. You take the word “eye”, add a long vowel, and it becomes “to see” (intransitive). Manipulate it a little, and it becomes “to show”. Add an auxillary verb (usually the verb “to do”) and it becomes “causes someone else to demonstrate something”. It’s not hugely difficult once one gets the hang of it.

But there are all kinds of English verbs that have entered the language - “to try” is my favorite example. The Tamils have invented a special causative auxillary just for the foreign words! Just one exception from what I can make out - “cooking” of course. You can say “cook” plus the auxillary verb and cause someone to cook your favorite dish. BUT - if you used the Tamil word for cooking, you used both the auxillary verb for native words AND the one for foreign ones, so that you end up having caused someone to cause someone to do cooking. Only it only means you caused the first person to come along - the order doesn’t get passed down the pecking order.l

mini · August 20, 2011, 3:56am

“and that lit up church is spectacular - the white one reminds me of a Mormon church in la Jolla”

When the tsunami hit Velankanny in 2004, the wave came right up to the steps of the church (having wiped out everything in front of the church, including the Christian Tonsure and Ear-Boring Hall) and stopped. It was quite miraculous, many people have thought.

Dad_of_3 · August 20, 2011, 1:59pm

You should check with your teacher how vocabulary and pronunciation differs across social groups - ask his/her opinion of “aathuh” instead of “veeduh” for house or pronouncing banana or fruit with modified Y sounds instead of L sounds. Overtones of Queens English vs cockney, but more so.

anon94785555 · August 20, 2011, 4:47pm

Many of those in North India are already learning 3 alphabets and languages so it is no wonder they don’t add Tamil to the mix. They may end up in a part of their country where yet another language/alphabet is used… And if the Tamils don’t learn Hindi, possibly because it is totally unrelated to Tamil (another reason for those with Hindi related languages to not bother with Tamil) it is no wonder English is becoming the go to language. India is lucky the Brits also colonized what became the USA.

mini · August 20, 2011, 10:40pm

Dadof3 - I know at least five pronounciations of vallaipalam (banana) - they split along both geographical and social caste lines. (I can’t seem to pronounce any of them correctly - but I’ve been aware of it for 30 years.) The words for “brain, corner, and language” are indistinguishable to me, so when I mispronounce things, I can take my brain and go sit off in the corner.

Meanwhile, the pilgrims are out in force. I saw two women pushing a baby carriage - 350 kilometers will make for quite a trip for the baby! and then I saw 10-12 men pushing a car! (it had some statuary in it). It rained heavily last night. Most of the pilgrims sleep on someone’s veranda, or under a bus stand awning, or wherever else they can. I imagine many got wet!

I learned conditionals yesterday. Fun. Literally, to say “I might come”, is something like “Coming, I will come”, through stretching it out, it is “Coming being possible, I will come”. It seems extraordinarily polite (no surprise), and somewhat comical, but I love it.

Wis - I make no judgment on whether the Indians linguistically were “lucky” to have had the British. Rwanda and Burundi, countries with a single African language, have just changed from French to English for business and educational purposes, even though the British never set foot in either. Most Indians learned very little in the way of English from the British - this is a much more modern development.

Dad_of_3 · August 21, 2011, 12:07pm

The trick is how your tongue moves while making the “L” sound. Compare the T sound in “tear” as in “tear a page” with the T sound in “think” (or the D sound in “dare” versus “this”). In the first your tongue curls, touches the top of the mouth and flattens, while in the “Th”, it’s always flat.

Now try doing this with “L” - in English you only have the latter flat tongue sound (the “soft” L). If you say “snow flake”, the tongue is flat when you say flake (or snow). Try saying flake with the tongue moving curling to the top while you begin saying “L” and clicking down. Similarly, for “n” in snow.

This way, with the “hard” L in “Mooleh”, you’ll get brain, while with the conventional “soft” L, you get corner. Similarly, you have the soft “n” and the hard “n”, and for the banana (or fruit), the “hard” Y where you say “ya” while having your tongue curled and touching the roof of your mouth that adds a bit of a “z” sound to it.

When you’ve mastered it, start speaking English dropping all the “soft” Ls, Ns, etc. in favor of the “hard” variants, and you’ll be halfway there to speaking English with the accent of those from the neighboring state of Kerala.

mini · August 23, 2011, 3:48am

You can get yourself in trouble pretty quickly - the verbs “to stay” and “to sleep” vary by one little vowel sound. If you say, “I will stay with you for four days”, you might end up saying “I will sleep with you for four days.”

So better not park your brain (moli) in the corner (moli) when learning the language (moli). Regardless, American fopahs are inevitable, you just take people’s laughter in stride, and move on. Hey, I’m trying, and if I just said “It might be possible for me to come possibly I might come”, you can pretty much figure out what I just said.

A second word for “book” is also the word for “thread”. Very poetic, but it might have to do with the fact that palm-leaf manuscripts were sewn together with thread.

Went shopping yesterday. Bought sandals by myself, half in English, half in Tamil (I using Tamil, the salesman Tamil.) There was a sign outside a shoe-shop that said, “Buy one shoe, get another shoe FREE!” I didn’t get to test it. Went into one shop, the owner was Singhalese, and the writing on the wall was also Singhalese, but his English was fine. Then the Gujarati shop - he spoke no Tamil, and his English wasn’t much better, but I was referred there by the Singhalese guy, and sure enough, he had exactly what I needed.

The same couldn’t be said of the bookshop, the famous Higginbotham’s bookshop, that didn’t have a single copy, NOT one, of the books of the Tamil national poet Subramaniam Bharathi in translation. I am sure I am only the 10,000th person who asked for one. But their computer system I think dates to the 1970s.

Krishnammal and I have been talking about “rich man” and the “beggar”, or so we’ve labeled each other, when she isn’t calling me “her son, the American capitalist”. I did pay for her visit to the Diabetes Clinic yesterday, where they enjoyed my Tamil. Diabetes, in case you didn’t know, is the Tamil national disease. She’s fine, iron not too bad, but she needs more protein, so I have given orders to everyone in Tamil that she is to have “murungakirai” (cooked moringa tree leaves) every day - the leaves are high in both protein AND iron, with a nice dose of calcium and antioxidants to boot.

In my next class, I am reading a children’s book based on a Tamil movie song. The teacher is worried that there are too many colloquialisms for me to follow. But then I wasn’t doing too well with the “Lion and His Court”, so probably won’t be any worse. Wish me Valhe Valamuduan! (Live Long and Prosper.)

(P.S. Thanks Dadof3 - I think the problem is not with my tongue, but with my brain!)

mini · August 24, 2011, 3:33am

16th Tamil Class - “Okayily”

The word for “bell” and the word for “time” is the same.

“House” is a little more complicated. It comes from the verb “to give up”. The word “house” also means “spiritual liberation” or the “great beyond”. The concept seems to be that when you go home, you give up your worldly worries. May it be so.

Found a list of the 16 Prosperities - May You give birth to them:

<ul>
<li>Education</li>
<li>Long Life</li>
<li>Friendship</li>
<li>Prosperity</li>
<li>Youthful spirit</li>
<li>Strong physique</li>
<li>Sound mind</li>
<li>Understanding spouse</li>
<li>Patience</li>
<li>Popularity</li>
<li>Truth</li>
<li>Charity</li>
<li>Financial Strength</li>
<li>Good Management</li>
<li>Fulfilled lifestyle</li>
<li>Love and affection</li>
</ul>

Surprisingly, perhaps, children aren’t among them. Perhaps that’s why the saying was miscontrued to mean “May You Give Birth (to 16 children!)”

So, I said I was struggling with adverbs. That’s because in Tamil, they really aren’t quite adverbs, but adjectival nouns.

There is a word for sadness. But you don’t say, “there is sadness”. You say, “there is sadly” (used as a noun). There is an adjectival form, but it requires another noun (as in “There is a sad feeling.” This business seems to be the way thihgs work for hungry, angry, happy (3 ways!), thirsty, painful.

My favorite is “Okayily”, To say, “it went okay”, one says something like “Okayily it went.” “Was it okayily?” you could ask. And then you have your answer. You can drop a few vowels here and there, 'cause to say “it went” or “it is” can be a mouthful. "U"s will change to "e"s.

So my class “Sari-ahe poche”

Did, too! I read my first children’s book. Took me an hour!

mini · August 25, 2011, 8:58am

17th Tamil Class – “Black is Beautiful”

So it turns out that in Tamil, the word for “good” is also the ancient word for “black”. To say “black pepper” one says “good pepper”. “People weren’t trying to bleach their faces to look like the English, or at least like north Indians. The Dravidian inferiority complex came later, it seems, driven by what may have been a mythical Aryan invasion of India. In the South, in the ancient Indian epic the Ramayana, Ravana (and not Rama) is the hero – in fact, there are Tamil versions which are called the “Epic of Ravana”. However, it must be noted that Ravana is always depicted as a high-caste Brahmin (member of the priestly caste), whereas Rama is of the warrior clan.

My school, the Institute of Asian Studies, sits on a piece of land next to a salt works. The Director says that when they purchased the land some 30 years ago, it was wasteland. Now there are 20- and 30-story apartment buildings going up all over the place. It is hard to fathom what has happened to real estate in Chennai in 30 years. The Director bought the land for his house 30 years ago for 45,000 rupees. It is now, he says, worth 20,000,000 rupees (roughly $470,000). Of course, none of the rural folks can cash in on the boom, which is why so many of the landlords my Indian mother has been battling for 40 years have picked up and moved. But it affects occupations even there – the Director says that in his village, there is no longer a group of folks who climb palmyra trees every morning to gather the juice for breakfast. But folks can make a good living in Chennai. A graduating female engineer (males make more) from a reasonable (not top) college an expect to earn around 70,000 rupees ($1,750 a month), and can save virtually all of it. Hence, the U.S. just doesn’t look so attractive anymore.

Krishnammal (and some others) have taken to calling me the “Tamil pundit”. I’ve taken to noting that Thirunavalluvar (the great poet-philosopher) didn’t spend all of his time reciting what he had for breakfast, and learning how to shop. But I am satisfied that I have a good sense of how the language works, even if I am far from meaningful conversations.

Five classes left. Next week I will be at LAFTI headquarters, where I will use some of my broken Tamil to speak to 1,000 people gathered to talk about the 1,125 houses we hope to build, and to work with a group of people from Karnataka on biosand water filters.

I have learned that one doesn’t say a food is “healthful” or (as is said incorrectly in English) “healthy.” In Tamil, it is simply “good for the body.”

The mind and spirit require other things.

The words for “child” and monkey are dangerously close.

mini · August 27, 2011, 3:47am

18th Class - “It Isn’t Necessary”

Ive lost 8-10 lbs. since I’ve been here. My sister says you could pay good money in Chennai to lose that kind of weight.

It wasn’t hard, and I haven’t been trying. The secret? 1) A VERY high carbohydrate diet, mostly rice-based. Vegetarian, and very low in protein (some lentils in the sambar, milk in coffee, yoghurt with rice.) NO sweets - I HATE Indian sweets. 2) No exercise! It’s too hot! 3) Living in a permanent steambath, 24 hours a day. This isn’t the hottest part of the year - that would be April and May, and you won’t find me in India during those months. No, the temperature is an unvarying 92 degrees in the daytime, 78 at night. 91-96% humidity - ALWAYS. This is monsoon season, and I live in a permanent steambath, and I sweat morning, noon, and night. I don’t see many Tamils sweating (or at least when they aren’t standing in the sun. After about a week, you mostly get used to being covered in sweat.

But not at night. The monsoon rains, and thunder and lightning hit for about two or three hours, and then the power will go out. The fans won’t work. You sweat. You take off the bed sheet. You sweat. The mosquitos make a meal of you - doesn’t matter what repellant you use, they’ll get you eventually. And you sweat so more. The power means the pump won’t get the water to the top of the house so you can wash. So you carry pails. (a little exercise). And you sweat some more.

The papers report that there has been a huge reduction in malnutrition in India in the past decade, from 60% to 42% (about a 30% reduction, about the same rate as in China). I am pretty sure that in Tamil Nadu, it is less than half that, and may actually be lower than the in U.S. (not sure). Meanwhile, obesity is beginning to appear, alongside the national disease (diabetes), in Chennai at least. The flip to the malnutrition is the Express Avenue Mall in Chennai (look it up on line) - looks like the biggest mall in London or Paris. The young people are flocking to it, especially at night, while their parents (at least on Friday and Saturday), are making the rounds having FOUR dinners at four different homes, between 7 p.m. at 2 a.m.

I’m working on picking up some colloquial speech. There are some words that have made their way into Tamil from Sanskrit that are perfectly good words, but there are almost always some Tamil “country-cousin” words or formulations that work just fine. “It isn’t necessary” is my current favorite.

Today, I learned that the verb “to walk” is also used as the verb to “organize” or “to happen”. It’s almost the view of fate - you can organize all you want, but whether anything actually happens is yet to be determined.

I’m headed off to Kuthur - LAFTI headquarters - for four days. Will actually speak some Tamil, rather than simply studying it. More Thursday.

mini · August 31, 2011, 11:19pm

So we went south to LAFTI headquarters near Nagappatinam on Sunday. All the trains and buses were packed with the pilgrims going to Nagore and Velankanni, and there were thousands of them walking on the sides of the road. Some barefoot. Some balancing little bundles or bags on their heads, some with bag straps on their foreheads, some with no bags at all. Hindus, Moslems, Christians all headed to each others’ shrines. No conflicts (that I could see) among them). Vegetarians and non-vegetarians, of course, though I expect most are vegetarians during the pilgrimage. Tuesday was the height of the Christian pilgrimage; Wednesday was Ramzan end (Ramadan Eid), Thursday (through Saturday) celebrates special days for Ganesha, the elephant-headed god of new beginnings.

Tamils (unlike many in north India) are accepting of the fact that people are born into their various religions, and are unlikely to change them (which makes the Pentacostalists unhappy). Why would you belittle someone for something they were born into? Wouldn’t it be better to celebrate together?

A clay Ganesh just got brought to the house. After three days, he will get thrown into the river. (So easy to throw a god away.) Whether he sinks or swims is up to his mouse.

My language skills are a hit! (even if most of it is still around food and sleeping). There is one particular word - which means “all right” which results in paroxyms of praise - people start calling me “tamil pundit”, etc., etc., all because I can express a little subtlety. I also have written little poems about “Problems, problems, worries, worries” (but meanwhile there is happiness everywhere.)

LOTS of work got done! Maybe I’ll get to write about that later.

mini · September 1, 2011, 10:39am

So we put my Tamil to get use (and English, too).

First, there was land to register. Sixty women who had been landless laborers now own their own land! Registration of the land was the last step in the process, and has been years in the making, as it has taken the better part of a decade to get the government to waive the stamp taxes on the registration. Many, many tears were shed. A speech from me.

Then, a meeting to start a new housing program. We recruited volunteers from 10 villages, and we are going to build lots of bricks to go along with the flyash bricks we are already making. Then (the hope is) we can convince the government to provide the cement! We’ve scheduled huge rallies for October 2nd (Gandhi’s birthday) for land and housing. A speech from me.

An unexpected group of 15 women and their village leader came to see us. Landless laborers. Seems that the landlord sold the land to a developer in Madurai 300 miles away, who thinks he is going to build housing. They went to see the Communist Party leaders first, but all they could promise is a protest. We will coordinate a protest and occupation of the land together with negotiations with the owner to have the landless buy the land at a good price. The main problem is the new state government is in total disarray, and not ready to help us deal. Sigh. I got to give a speech.

Wait! Stop the Presses. An electrified Ganesh, surrounded by blinking electric lights, 12 feet high, pulled on a cart by two giant Brahma oxen with horns two feet higher than my head, is coming up the street! People are running out of the houses with little plates containing half a coconut, three bananas, and various other sweets and baked goods, and small oil lamps to be lit by the priests!'

Well that was exciting!

Then, we had two photojournalists - one Indian and one French - following us around, as they are working on documentaries on Krishnammal. There are also two Italians, volunteering at our youth hostels. We went to one, located in a very rural area, heavily communist in orientation. Krishnammal has convinced local landlords to part with 640 acres, one acre per family! And one of the landlords has donated his house. The Communists are not happy, to say the least. But with assistance of an Iranian-born psychiatrist from London, LAFTI has built a hostel for 46 children. They are all from the “backward” community, and this is their chance out of poverty. Just installed five latrines and new bathrooms.

Then I got to visit the two housing projects we have been working on - 50 houses in all, with the help of the Jain Center of Northern California, and a wonderful group of women travel writers called Passports with Purpose. Although delayed by heavy rains, the houses are now coming up nicely. I got to take pictures of each woman (or family) with their houses - very, very happy people! And asked each one what color they were going to paint their houses? (Green predominated, but there was blue, yellow, rose, and one confused woman (confused because she didn’t expect me to be speaking Tamil) said white and brown.

Then I got to do a “mental health intervention”, which was an interesting adventure cross-languages. But very, very successful, I think.

Then did a mini-training on biosand water filters with a group of folks from Karnataka who traveled 17 hours each way, to see me. We spent several hours on theory, and then they built one! They work in 70 different villages, many of them beset by typhoid, dysentery, and, occasionally, cholera. We HAVE the answer to that - and they are very excited about the possibilities. I got them to sign up for a five-day training in September.

After tearful farewells, I am now back in Chengelpattu, with a bad cold, and spent much of the day napping. Still all in all, work accomplished!

Huge winds whipping through the house! Electricity off! Rains on the way! Happy Ganesh Day!

mini · September 2, 2011, 3:30am

19th Tamil Class - Beautiful Things

First, the ugly, the REALLY UGLY. Out of the thousands of prawn farms that had been established since the early 1990s in the districts where we work (thanks to Al Gore, the IMF, World Bank, and multinational capitalists), there are now fewer than a hundred. The rest have given out, leaving behind a gray, chemicalized wasteland, where nothing will grow, and leaches cancer-causing chemicals into streams, estuaries, and neighboring rice fields every time in rains. The capitalists have gone to wreak havoc on other unsuspecting places, living behind the ruins of tens of thousands of lives, people turned into migrant laborers as they were kicked off the land, and thousands of cases of cancer. All so we could have shrimp (laced with chloramphenicol) on the cheap Chinese buffet. It is said that there are organic techniques that could restore the land, but it has never been done anywhere in the world, and of course, the capitalists, IMF, and World Bank aren’t interested, as there is no money in it.

I went to temple to bless a wedding on Wednesday. There was a childless couple (of higher caste) that started taking in indigent Dalit children (girls) and raising them as their own. One was getting married, and Krishnammal was to preside, but as we had to leave town early, she came to the temple to bless the couple.

A boy at one of the hostels, a star student, loves Shakespeare. But there was no money to get him into a local college. Well, Krishnammal called, and the college reduced the entrance fee by more than half. And the student, beloved by the little ones, has agreed to stay on living at the hostel and helping to care for them, in exchange for the rest of the funds.

And then there is Saraswati. Krishnammal picked her up “off a bundle” (she says), a rag hill by the side of the road before she was age 5. The mother could care less (at the time). She has been raised in the hostel, and turned out to be a brilliant student, dancer, and singer. K. has hopes she will end up teaching at one of the local colleges.

The students from among the Andhra tribals, who Krishnammal saved from a life of begging and drinking, have adapted well to the hostels, and are truly enjoying themselves. We have to raise a little more money ($45,000, sigh) because the kitchen can no longer accommodate making food for so many kids, and the boys’ hostel, a magnificent old Tamil home, has a roof that is probably 80 years old, and leaks all over the place. All in a days’ work.

Lots of combination verbs today - “go to sleep”, “come to stay”, “start to eat”, etc. They actually make life easier, as I only need to know the infinitives, and the conjugations of the main verb. The conjugations still drive me nuts! more irregulars than regulars, it seems, and the oral forms are often different than the written ones.

Tomorrow is my last class. I’ve learned so much! Of course I’ll forget half of it. But that’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I return (within a year, I presume), and I’ve proven to myself that old folks (that’s me) can learn new languages quite well, use them effectively, and pretty quickly too. Just go in with no expectations, and let it wash over you.

I’m swimming in the Tamil tide!

mini · September 3, 2011, 3:51am

As it turns out, is very often the case in Tamil the root word of a verb is also a noun, with them having (it seems) having absolutely nothing to do with each other.

The verb “learn”, for example, is the same as the noun for “stone”. I wondered whether in ancient times, they beat the kids in the head with a stone in order to get them to learn. “No,” said the Director of the Institute, “an iron stylus”. Well, there went one theory. I asked whether it was possible that the two usages originated in different places? No, it turns out, while there are pronunciation differences from place to place, and an occasional local word (I learned some fisherman’s lingo today when reading a book about the difficult marriage of two fish who wanted to live in different places in the sea), Tamil was pretty “pan” from the earliest times, it seems.

No, it was likely the poets making puns and metaphors that allowed the language to morph this way. The 20th Century poet Bharathi, when hearing chidren recite an old aphorism, “In your young age, learn”, responded, “In your old age, sand!”

The word for “hair” or the crown of a king is the same as the verb “finish”.And then there are those words where the small change of a vowel sound (that westerners often can’t hear easily) can get one in trouble - “to forget” is dangerously close to “to disagree or oppose”. Instead of opposing the argument, you might just forget it. (That would be even more insulting, wouldn’t it?)

Worked a little with compound verb/infinitives/participles - “I am going to try to eat” (or I am going to try eating"), or “I forgot to eat” (you’ll notice that we’re still fixated on eating. In modern Tamil, you are just as likely to eat coffee as to drink it. No change in the coffee, just in linguistic usage.)

Speaking of coffee, there are changes in the sales language of the food sellers on the trains. Thirty 30 years ago, it was a quick “Capee, capee, capee, capee, capee, souda (hot), capee.” Now it is more likely to be a long, puffed up, “CHoffay, Choffay”, Same stuff, except 30 years ago it came in little red clay cups that one threw away - now it comes in plastic cups. A collection of the red clay cups from all over India would be a really neat thing, like the museum of toasters.

I was talking with Krishnammal this morning about life in the 1920s and 1930s in her village (a favorite subject). She said that while there was no cash, they always had everything they wanted to eat or drink, simply through barter. Her grandfather would take rice and lowland vegetables to the mountains, and trade them for coffee, and upland fruits. There was plenty of butter and milk and buttermilk, and… The British hadn’t made it to her village until the 1930s. Then they came, and soon the land was mortgaged for alcohol and whatnot, and hasn’t been the same since. Needless to say, the cash economy does not reward those for whom cash is anathema.

It even affects beggars. Beggars used to take food - now they mostly demand cash. Visiting Buddhist monks will go around with their begging bowls, and receiving cash is a true affront - and they don’t really know what to do with it.

I asked the Director about Krishnammal’s story about how, at the end of each day, the family was obligated to give away any extra cooked white food - rice, yoghurt, milk, eggs, and that every morning, they had to go look for a poor person to take it. The Director said this habit still exists in some villages, but has mostly been done in by refrigerators. It is interesting to think of the refrigerator as the enemy of expressions of compassion.

This is my last day. I brought sweets from Tiravarur. I hate Indian sweets, but it is the thing to do. I’ll even eat one. Photos are the order of the day.

I am sure I will start forgetting my Tamil the moment I leave. That’s all right - it has left its imprint, given me much to think about, gave some unused brain cells some good exercise, and I WILL be back.

mini · September 3, 2011, 10:53pm

My India!

After 34 years, my India is still a source of wonder to me!

Today, I am a guest at the wedding of a Muslim man and Christian woman, both IAS (civil service offices). The father is well-known social activist, who has worked to bridge the educated and uneducated parts of the Dalit community, opening schools and resource centers.

Today’s paper carries an article that in Perali Village, Dalits aren’t allowed to bicycle in upper caste areas. Those who dl so face violence, abuse, and threats. Students at the local high school have to bicycle a long way around to get to school. The local postmaster and a real estate broker can’t get to work easily. Since most of the Dalits are agricultural laborers, they can’t afford to challenge the wishes of their employers. Despite laws to the contrary, they can’t enter the temple on the upper caste street. The temple is “integrated”, but the Dalits can’t get to it. Dalits aren’t even allowed to sit with caste Hindus on the rough benches outside tea shops, and at the only village library, Dalit youth have to sit on the floor. Below the article are two announcements of large international conferences on pain management, and on plastic surgery.

The giant highrises near Chennai are going up at at fantastic rate, sporting 75,000 square foot “clubhouses”. Meanwhile, barefoot pilgrims in orange dhotis are on the roads again to the mountain temple of Palani. The water buffaloes are still stopping traffic outside massive gold jewelry shops. The spectacular new state government offices are, according to the new Chief Minister, to be turned into a mutli-specialty hospital (for which the new facility is totally unequipped.)

I bought two Ganesha stickers for the back window of my car - one very traditional, multi-colored, the other a modernistic design, in orange. I’ll see if I have the nerve to put them on. Meanwhile, the Ganesh on the “worship-shelf” will be thrown into the river today. In Mumbai, they would say “immersed”, I’m told, but here, he is disposed of.

Some things change, some things remain the same. There is so much more that I’d like to know!

parent1986 · September 3, 2011, 11:19pm

Are Ganesha stickers too ornate for a Quaker? Send one to me and I’ll put it next to my Obama sticker!

mini · September 3, 2011, 11:37pm

That’s just my thought (in my usual Quaker gray - all-white in India) - but I like to be unpredictable!

I Leave Tomorrow!

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