This was definitely one of the coolest experiences I've had at Ursinus. I'll start off by putting this one out there - no matter how hard we try to be "multi-cultural" or conscious of the world beyond Western culture we're still white Americans at a private liberal arts college. There's nothing wrong with this at all but I think that it's been overlooked by people wanting to 'understand' new and exciting cultures. After this weekend I've decided that there's nothing wrong with not being able to fully understand - in fact, I think it might be nearly impossible.
I had a great time at the Bharatiya Temple and I feel like I learned a lot, but I don't think I could have had such a wonderful experience if I'd been trying to understand everything going on around me and relate it to things I've been exposed to in the past. THe main thing I noticed at the temple that stands out to me now is the smell.
Most of the religious sites I've been to have no distinct smell beyond the occasional musty scent. When we went upstairs to the shrines there was a very stong perfume-y smell from the incense they burned. I think that this was so cool because the whole experience of stepping into an unfamiliar culture was a completely sensory experience. Beyond the smell there was also the sense of touch (walking around barefoot, hands getting warm over the candle in from of Vishnu), sound (the bells ringing), sight (lots of shrines, bright colors), and taste (taking the nuts from the priest). I think that having all of my senses engaged help me to feel uncomfortable enough in my surroundings (not in a bad way!) that I was able to fully experience going into an unfamiliar culture.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Go humans go (Part 2)
When we got to the meeting we were a bit late. As we walked in Nathan signaled to us to be quiet. I'm sure that people noticed us shuffling in and taking our seats, but no one seemed upset, offended, or even the slightest bit curious about who were and why we were there. The room was large - high ceilings, graduated pews that all faced inwards, a balcony with more pews. We sat a little bit away from the people who were already there so I didn't get a good chance to check out what everyone was wearing while we were coming in. What WAS noticeable was that everyone was sitting peacefully with their eyes either downcast or closed. At first I felt a little uncomfortable and anxious because I wanted to see what was going on around me before I closed my eyes or looked down, but it's better that I was able to plunge right into the experience. Yes, I was there for an observation, but I didn't feel that that meant I couldn't try out a custom while I was there.
I really enjoyed listening to what people had to say. When the first person stood up and spoke about the Nobel and how she thought Obama might have won for what he believed (rather than what he'd done) and how what we believe might be more important than we think I felt like I was connected to the service. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it was strange to know what she was saying and be able to meditate on her words with all of the people around me even though I don't identify as a Quaker. I found that to be true with all of the people who spoke. I appreciated the pause between people standing up and talking because it allowed me time to consider what had been said and think about the religious implications of that particular statement before another person stood up to say what she wanted to.
Although I couldn't quite figure out why, I thought it was very important that the children were brought into the meeting when they were and that few (if any) parents made an effort to shush them. I also thought it was cool that people continued to stand up and speak once the children were in the meeting and even though it was a little noisier. I've always been of the belief that children are meant to be heard and I thought it was nice that they were accepted into the community and that no one really felt a need to take them out.
It seemed like most of the older people at the meeting were regulars and that the younger people were mostly there for the first time (I think they all had children in the preschool). I also didn't see any teenagers or college age students (beyond us). It looked like most of the people were white although there was a little diversity. When asked about interfaith projects our representative person said that the community could stand to do more of them...I think it's interesting that they don't have many right now since, according to the website, the major belief in Quakerism is to "love thy neighbor..." I'm not saying they don't love their neighbors because they don't have interfaith activities and events, it had just been something I'd expected them to be more involved in.
One more note: It looked like the pumpkin carving event had a larger turn out than the actual meeting.
I really enjoyed listening to what people had to say. When the first person stood up and spoke about the Nobel and how she thought Obama might have won for what he believed (rather than what he'd done) and how what we believe might be more important than we think I felt like I was connected to the service. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it was strange to know what she was saying and be able to meditate on her words with all of the people around me even though I don't identify as a Quaker. I found that to be true with all of the people who spoke. I appreciated the pause between people standing up and talking because it allowed me time to consider what had been said and think about the religious implications of that particular statement before another person stood up to say what she wanted to.
Although I couldn't quite figure out why, I thought it was very important that the children were brought into the meeting when they were and that few (if any) parents made an effort to shush them. I also thought it was cool that people continued to stand up and speak once the children were in the meeting and even though it was a little noisier. I've always been of the belief that children are meant to be heard and I thought it was nice that they were accepted into the community and that no one really felt a need to take them out.
It seemed like most of the older people at the meeting were regulars and that the younger people were mostly there for the first time (I think they all had children in the preschool). I also didn't see any teenagers or college age students (beyond us). It looked like most of the people were white although there was a little diversity. When asked about interfaith projects our representative person said that the community could stand to do more of them...I think it's interesting that they don't have many right now since, according to the website, the major belief in Quakerism is to "love thy neighbor..." I'm not saying they don't love their neighbors because they don't have interfaith activities and events, it had just been something I'd expected them to be more involved in.
One more note: It looked like the pumpkin carving event had a larger turn out than the actual meeting.
Go humans go (Part 1)
I don't mean for the title of this post to be inappropriate in any way. On the contrary, I think that Quaker oatmeal's advertising campaign is something that deserves some consideration. Now that I live in Southeastern PA I know that there are a good amount of Quakers and that they have really, really good schools...but the oatmeal guy was all I knew about the religion before I got here. Quite honestly it never occured to me that Quakers still existed - in my mind they'd gone the way of the Puritans (wow, this will be embarassing if there are still Puritans around). Quakerism is very much a regional religion. I've recently learned that there is a small meeting on N. San Pedro Road in San Rafael (very close to the Jewish Community Center, actually), but I'm sure that the Quaker community out West has a different feel than the community back East. Perhaps it's just the nature of religion in the Bay Area, but I've actually noticed the same thing with Jews on the East Coast vs. the West Coast.
Anyways. When I got to UC and heard about people who went to Quaker school I was surprised to hear that Quakerism was alive and well in the US. I think that this is telling about the religion - not at all intrusive, very respectful of others, and no need to show off their customs or religion. This also really set the tone for our visit yesterday morning...
Details about the field trip in the next post. I just wanted to give a little background about my (lack of) exposure to Quakers previous to our trip.
Anyways. When I got to UC and heard about people who went to Quaker school I was surprised to hear that Quakerism was alive and well in the US. I think that this is telling about the religion - not at all intrusive, very respectful of others, and no need to show off their customs or religion. This also really set the tone for our visit yesterday morning...
Details about the field trip in the next post. I just wanted to give a little background about my (lack of) exposure to Quakers previous to our trip.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Oh dear Lord...what the Hell...Jesus Christ...in God we trust...
Oh dear Lord...what the Hell...Jesus Christ...in God we trust...does any of this mean anything anymore? This is a tough one. I see where Brennan comes from in his statement about how "In God we trust" and all that business has become meaningless and 100% secular because of "rote repetition," but there are some people who don't find those statements (or any other religious ones) to be merely "ceremonial deism." I guess that what I really can't decide here is whether or not a term should be relegated to a secular classification if there are still some people who take them seriously. I also wonder if saying "under God" in the Pledge or printing "In God we trust" on our money counts as "taking the Lord's name in vain" if those are, in fact, empty phrases.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
May the Force be with you...
Last night Casey and I watched Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope (full disclosure: I'd never seen Star Wars before despite hometown ties). I'd been exposed to many different allusions and references to the saga and I understood a good amount of it, but last night's experience really contextualized all that I'd encountered previously.
One of the things that is inescapable in pop-culture is the concept of the Force. I always knew it had to do with religion but not because I'd ever thought about it. When I was in Hebrew school whenever someone did a good job with something we wished them "yasher koach" which I believe is something along the lines of just "way to go." In fourth and fifth grade my Hebrew school teacher, Rachel, would have us say "yasher koach" like always, but then she prompted us with "which means..." and, in unison, we'd all reply "may the Force be with you!" That was my first exposure to "the Force" (again, full disclosure: this is the same Rachel who is now the rabbi at the synagogue in Phoenixville).
When I watched Episode IV last night I was more interested in the concept of the Force than anything else. I'm shy about making any sort of analysis at this point since I've heard that the concept is further developed over the course of the saga, but there's definitely something going on there that deserves attention. One of the Star Wars related things that I've heard rumors about is the presence of a sort of Jedi religion that real people actually claim to be followers of. Upon first hearing this a few years ago I scoffed at the idea and wrote people off as being completely wacked out nerds who had nothing better to do. After seeing the first film, however, I've changed my tune. I'm not ready to embrace Jediism as a legitimate religion quite yet, but I'm not so quick to call all who believe in the Force complete idiots.
Now to wrap this all up...
I think it's important for this class to approach the various different theories and religions that we're going to examine only after reading about them in context and fully understanding them. I really scared myself last night when I realized that it'd be just as easy to call a major world religion or belief system stupid and irrelevant as it was for me to say the same of the Force.
So yeah. I guess what I'm saying is that I shouldn't be so judgmental.
One of the things that is inescapable in pop-culture is the concept of the Force. I always knew it had to do with religion but not because I'd ever thought about it. When I was in Hebrew school whenever someone did a good job with something we wished them "yasher koach" which I believe is something along the lines of just "way to go." In fourth and fifth grade my Hebrew school teacher, Rachel, would have us say "yasher koach" like always, but then she prompted us with "which means..." and, in unison, we'd all reply "may the Force be with you!" That was my first exposure to "the Force" (again, full disclosure: this is the same Rachel who is now the rabbi at the synagogue in Phoenixville).
When I watched Episode IV last night I was more interested in the concept of the Force than anything else. I'm shy about making any sort of analysis at this point since I've heard that the concept is further developed over the course of the saga, but there's definitely something going on there that deserves attention. One of the Star Wars related things that I've heard rumors about is the presence of a sort of Jedi religion that real people actually claim to be followers of. Upon first hearing this a few years ago I scoffed at the idea and wrote people off as being completely wacked out nerds who had nothing better to do. After seeing the first film, however, I've changed my tune. I'm not ready to embrace Jediism as a legitimate religion quite yet, but I'm not so quick to call all who believe in the Force complete idiots.
Now to wrap this all up...
I think it's important for this class to approach the various different theories and religions that we're going to examine only after reading about them in context and fully understanding them. I really scared myself last night when I realized that it'd be just as easy to call a major world religion or belief system stupid and irrelevant as it was for me to say the same of the Force.
So yeah. I guess what I'm saying is that I shouldn't be so judgmental.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
using etic and emic to justify guilt
So I can't go on our field trip since I'm volunteering at Boo at the Zoo on the same Saturday. At first I felt incredibly guilty about this since I was very much looking forward to the class field trips and I'm a bit of an over achiever/I hate missing out on class things. After reviewing our reading packet and thinking about the purpose of the class, it dawned on me that I don't HAVE to go on the field trip! Okay Nathan, don't kill me yet...just humor me a little here.
One of my goals in this course is to expose myself to new and unfamiliar religions and beliefs. Perhaps I'm misunderstanding the etic/emic business here, but I think that what I want to be (or, more accurately, what I must be) an etic observer of these religions. I want to look at them through fresh lenses and appreciate the traditions as more than just alien traditions that I read about in a text book a few semesters ago.
For me, as a Jew, it will be impossible for me to be an etic observer. How am I supposed to sit in on Shabbat services on a Saturday morning and not follow along in the Hebre prayer book or even recite some of the liturgy? No matter what, I'm an emic observer just by nature of the fact that I grew up going to Shabbat services and no matter what my feelings are now I can't separate myself from that.
I'm not saying that I'm above going on the field trip or that it's not something that I want to do, I just think that I might have more of an etic experience at the Zoo working with children from the inner city who won't be able to go trick-or-treating in their neighborhoods on Halloween. Being from the suburbs and having always been able to go out in my neighborhood whenever I wanted this will be a new and different experience for me and I will be something of a culturally neutral observer.
Of course, I've only read the article once so far so I could be totally off base here. Nathan, please don't fail me for this.
One of my goals in this course is to expose myself to new and unfamiliar religions and beliefs. Perhaps I'm misunderstanding the etic/emic business here, but I think that what I want to be (or, more accurately, what I must be) an etic observer of these religions. I want to look at them through fresh lenses and appreciate the traditions as more than just alien traditions that I read about in a text book a few semesters ago.
For me, as a Jew, it will be impossible for me to be an etic observer. How am I supposed to sit in on Shabbat services on a Saturday morning and not follow along in the Hebre prayer book or even recite some of the liturgy? No matter what, I'm an emic observer just by nature of the fact that I grew up going to Shabbat services and no matter what my feelings are now I can't separate myself from that.
I'm not saying that I'm above going on the field trip or that it's not something that I want to do, I just think that I might have more of an etic experience at the Zoo working with children from the inner city who won't be able to go trick-or-treating in their neighborhoods on Halloween. Being from the suburbs and having always been able to go out in my neighborhood whenever I wanted this will be a new and different experience for me and I will be something of a culturally neutral observer.
Of course, I've only read the article once so far so I could be totally off base here. Nathan, please don't fail me for this.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Place, object, story.
My "special" place is UC. I love it here. Anyone who has known me since I was a freshman knows that I have changed dramatically over the last three years I've spent here. I can't really pinpoint the changes I've gone through but UC has dramatically altered who I am and the way I see the world. Since I can't realistically expect that this is an appropriate answer I will instead choose to focus on the Ursinusiana Archives. I feel that the time I've spent at UC is being brought together by my honors project which, appropriately, is about the College and what has shaped its character over the past 140 years. The archives also represent the College as a whole for reasons that I don't think need to be explained.
The object I'm choosing is a paperweight with a picture of a bird on it. I hate birds, but this particular one is different. This bird picture also represents my time at Ursinus because the poster print is all. over. campus. Seriously, just take a quick walk through any building (especially Corson) and I guarantee you'll come across it. Now, I couldn't STAND that stupid print but last week when I was looking through my desk space in the office I work in I cam across a few paperweights with the bird on it. I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever seen but my boss pointed out to me that that bird would probably remind me more of Ursinus than most other things I've acquired during my time here. She's totally right and I'm totally holding on to that paper weight.
My story is about a place but it's not a place we can walk to as a class. When I was 16 I studied abroad in Israel for 4 months. One of the excursions we went on was to a small suburb/village thinger outside of Jerusalem called Abu Ghosh. It's an Arab Israeli community that sets a great precedent for co-existence. Basically, the people of the town live in perfect harmony with their Jewish Israeli neighbors. When we went there a few of my friends and I were wandering around a spot in town where the shops and stands were set up. We had gone to buy hummus (Abu Ghosh is known for its hummus) and we got a little lost. While we were trying to find our way back we came across a local woman - probably in her mid 20s - who not only helped us back but engaged us in a conversation about Arab Israeli-Jewish Israeli relations and her take on the whole business. I don't remember exactly what was said (it was in Hebrew - one of the people in our group was fluent and translated for us) but I do recall coming away from the whole experience feeling incredibly optimistic about the whole world and the possibilities that exist for those who just take a minute and engage their neighbor.
The object I'm choosing is a paperweight with a picture of a bird on it. I hate birds, but this particular one is different. This bird picture also represents my time at Ursinus because the poster print is all. over. campus. Seriously, just take a quick walk through any building (especially Corson) and I guarantee you'll come across it. Now, I couldn't STAND that stupid print but last week when I was looking through my desk space in the office I work in I cam across a few paperweights with the bird on it. I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever seen but my boss pointed out to me that that bird would probably remind me more of Ursinus than most other things I've acquired during my time here. She's totally right and I'm totally holding on to that paper weight.
My story is about a place but it's not a place we can walk to as a class. When I was 16 I studied abroad in Israel for 4 months. One of the excursions we went on was to a small suburb/village thinger outside of Jerusalem called Abu Ghosh. It's an Arab Israeli community that sets a great precedent for co-existence. Basically, the people of the town live in perfect harmony with their Jewish Israeli neighbors. When we went there a few of my friends and I were wandering around a spot in town where the shops and stands were set up. We had gone to buy hummus (Abu Ghosh is known for its hummus) and we got a little lost. While we were trying to find our way back we came across a local woman - probably in her mid 20s - who not only helped us back but engaged us in a conversation about Arab Israeli-Jewish Israeli relations and her take on the whole business. I don't remember exactly what was said (it was in Hebrew - one of the people in our group was fluent and translated for us) but I do recall coming away from the whole experience feeling incredibly optimistic about the whole world and the possibilities that exist for those who just take a minute and engage their neighbor.
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