Taking Chances

(I just finished writing this for the Delhi Ao Students Union Magazine. Reused a few stuff I've written before too)

"I want to take a year off". It must have sounded really vague. In many ways, it still does. Highly suspicious words of an about-to-graduate confused escapist trying to weasel out of life's "big" pressures of decision-making. No wonder my parents flatly refused. Two more years later, I found myself mouthing the same words. I had my reasons. Quite a list but two words (three, perhaps) might sum it up: to grow (up). Not that I was expecting for this to happen in a year but I was being hopeful that it would be a conscientious move towards it through the act of setting some time aside to learn, give and serve. I imagined it’d be quite an experience but imagining it was one thing, experiencing it has been quite another.

Last August, I packed my bags and left for Phuket, Thailand where I took a grueling ESL (English as a Second Language) teacher training course. I found it absurd that I was slogging away at a place where people from the world over come on holiday. I had always fancied the idea of being a teacher but being an ESL teacher was not high on my list. However, there was a reason behind it. It was my ticket to Laos- the country where I was to teach.

I honestly didn't know much about this country. I found out that it ranks as one of the world’s poorest countries. It was only when I did some research on the internet that I came to know that it's the world's most heavily bombed country. It's not uncommon to see unexploded ordnance being used as decorative showpieces here and there. Besides this infamous claim to fame, it is fast-becoming a major South East Asian tourist destination. Laos is beautiful. I doubt any heart will leave here without having been won over. The reasons can be subjective. It could be the interesting blend of the colonial remnants of French architecture with the ubiquitous Wats (Buddhist temples), or the Mekong, or the waterfalls, or the food or the culture. For me, it was all these but it was the people that tipped the scales. As I began to live and interact with the people here, there were times when I’d wonder how people could be so lovable. No kidding. As I began to teach and got to know my students better, it felt like these bonds were the beginnings of something different.

Being away from the comforts of things familiar can do strange things to us. Once the novelty of it wears off a little, it can challenge our perspective in ways we'd never imagined. It did mine. Living in a non-English speaking country was harder than I thought it would be. Communicating through speech can come to a stop after some time. With basic vocabulary learned over the span of just a few months, there's only so much one can say. There's only so much to talk about. There's only so much miming and gesturing that one can come up with. So, frustration can set in. But that's when I found that simple things like being taught how to dance a traditional dance by some girls- feet keeping the right pace with them, hands moving to their delicate rhythm, bodies swaying to the humming of a half-remembered song can become ways through which we still try to communicate. Living with people who have had lesser privileges in life can trigger off many self-evaluations. It’s hard not to think about the opportunities that you’ve had and how you’ve (mis-) used them or let them fall into disuse. And then there are those moments you thought you'd never have- Moments when something like the Past Perfect Continuous Tense can get you teary-eyed when you hear it being used correctly by the students, or when your heart wells up with so much joy to read and listen to the students' talk about dreams for their futures, their dreams for their people, and their dreams for our world. Small though it may be, it's for things like these that I don't regret having taken a break from "formal education", when I feel that a small difference in someone’s life is being made. Pretty valid reasons, I’d argue.

I had stared at a blank Word document for the longest time wondering what to write. I told a friend about my predicament (!) and we had a conversation about it. He himself has been living here with his family for a few years now. He told me, "Life's meaning is locked in a community chest and it takes more than just one person to turn the key." For him, service is an act of giving of ourselves to those who are not in a position to give back. This, among other things, has been a gradual lesson during my stay here. Maybe taking a year off isn’t really the point. Maybe going away to some place new isn’t the point either. Using the analogy above, I think we all need to take turns in turning the “key” whenever we find the chance, wherever it may be, as part of our social responsibility; to give a leg-up (or be given one) when someone is in need of it. The idea may not be novel, but the experiences certainly are.