When I think of tradition, I instantly picture Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof" singing about tradition from the rooftops. Tradition is something that I've been a part of my entire life as a Jew, something that I embody and something that has created a part of who I am. But until being thousands of miles away from home, I'm not sure I entirely understood tradition, or at least definitely not as I do now.
India is a country utterly steeped in tradition; tradition oozes out of every person, and the tentacles of tradition find their way into everyday life. A few weeks ago, there was a holiday to celebrate the 'machine gods', thus everyone spent the day honoring their cars, computers...anything mechanical. But tradition really became evident during the past holiday of Desai.
We were lucky enough to be in Kalimpong for Desai (thank goodness because apparently Sikkim has essentially banned celebrations here following the earthquake). The heart of the festival of Desai is being with family; every day one must go and visit an elder member of the family and be blessed. We were lucky enough to observe this occuring in Kalimpong, when some cousins of Anu's were blessed by the eldest uncle in the family. This tradition highlights the importance of family in Indian culture, something I think we've started to lose a little in the West.
While looking at schools last year, I sat in on a class at Oxford College at Emory University about the social status of the elderly in our culture. Before information became available at our fingertips, the elderly were revered as the ones to whom we went for information and help because they knew more than anyone else in the community. But as books became readily available, we stopped learning from our elders and turned instead to books and then, eventually, the wide expanses of the internet. And with this, the value of being an 'elder' in the community began to decrease.
But in India, despite an ever increasing Western influence and a quickly changing community, the value placed in family and your elders still remains. Indians remember that there is still much to learn from someone who has lived far more than you; it may not be knowledge about the planets or calculus or biology, but they teach us about life. As children, Indians are taught to respect those older than them and to defer to their wisdom, whether it be practical wisdom or more frequently, life wisdom.
Of course, this is somewhat of an oversimplification; as Western influence grows, there will always be plenty of youth who do not properly respect their elders and who do not return for holiday. But in Kalimpong, we saw Anu's family from all over India flock to the family home to pay their respect to their elders. We were lucky enough to be a fly on the wall as her family celebrated something that is lost, or at least temporarily misplaced, in Western culture.
Interestingly, Desai somewhat coincided with the Jewish High Holy Days, which caused me to reflect on my own traditions and beliefs. I have always been a half-hearted Jew; I believe in a God, but I have fought against the constraints of religion and prayer for longer than was probably necessary. But suddenly, being thousands of miles away from home, I found that I wanted to participate in the small Jewish ceremonies I had always taken for granted; I found myself chanting the Sh'ma, attempting Kol Nidre and eventually Google-ing all of the prayers so that I could have my own attempt at a Yom Kippur service, something I could almost share with my family and friends back home. A thousand miles away from home, and the traditions I took for granted and avoided at home are now what make me feel that home isn't necessarily so far away. Because, with my eyes closed for the Sh'ma, I could see Rebecca and Rachel next to me at services in 4th grade, my father falling asleep at Rosh Hashanah services, and everyone gathered for my Bat Mitzvah almost six years ago. But more importantly, it allowed me to access the home that is inside and will always be there.
Lots of love as always,
Sara
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