The Blessings of Children and a Good Friend

August, 2009
The Gift of Food
The weekend started off with my cutting and chopping spinach and greens for my Sikh friends’ preparation of a meal they were donating to their temple on the first Sunday in August as a blessing to honor the birth of two of their three sons. We started preparations Saturday afternoon cutting all the various kinds of spinach that they grew in the garden at their how. The cooking lesson also included cutting up some rather unusaul cauliflower heads and giant white radishes. We continued cooking Sunday morning at the temple. After arriving just in time for a delicious breakfast of dipped fried cauliflower with onions and potatoes, fresh chutney, a fried French toast like bread and a sweet cookie ball, I was honored to be part of a team of fifteen men and women cooking in the very clean kitchen. We cooked for over a hundred people in huge pots about a foot high and yard in diameter. I stirred the yellow roti dough and then the spinach sag which boiled for a total about 5 hours. While stirring, I had a good vantage point for overseeing the frying of the cauliflower, the making of chai or tea with whole cardamom, as well as sweet dough given to everyone after the prayers in the temple.
I was retired from stirring the spinach sag when assembly line started making yellow roti . With trepidation, I began flattening yellow dough balls with my hands. The women I worked with were very fast and helped by giving me partially made roti. Despite my efforts, my “round” dough forms had rough edges and peculiar bulges. But everyone smiled and continued to give me hints. Simultaneously five people cooked them in large flat iron pans before putting them over an open flame and spreading them with butter. The team then switched to brown chapattis that were easier since we had little rolling pins to flatten out dough balls.
Afterwards, everyone in the kitchen went out to sit on the floors in the halls around the main temple, men in one area and women in another. Young men proceeded to serve us the spinach sag, fresh radishes, yellow roti, a sweet rice dessert, fresh bananas and oranges. After this we returned to the kitchen to make more yellow roti, since more were needed. The clean-up routine soon followed. Sweeping, mopping, and a constant stream of dish washing by men using several sinks continued for more than an hour until everything was clean and put back in its original place.
Besides learning how all the dishes were cooked, I was given containers of the delicious food for a week! Now I make my own chapattis, a filling snack at school.


PACT Gives Back
A few days later, over twenty members of our school PACT club (Peer Action Counseling Team) rolled out of school in a large flat back truck. We traveled by a good dirt road about 20 miles to Monwane, a rural primary school. We arrived expecting 30 students and ended up with 60 in total from fifth, six and seventh grades. They were very shy, but my students divided them into groups for icebreakers that involved lots of laughter and running. This helped them to relax and open up to the club members about their issues with parents and studies. Many of the pupils do not understand the teachers because they are taught in English rather than their native Setswana. Because many parents drink excessively and do not care about their children’s education and behavior, the students do poorly at school. The teachers are very strict. These students do not feel they can talk openly in class. The teachers are frustrated with the performance of the students. Students resist participating in class. They also lack sex education and many drop out of school before the seventh grade due to pregnancy and other issues. Now while we contemplate returning to the school during the coming term, we will have to help these students in confronting their challenges.

A Gifted Teacher and Friend
On a personal note, I recently found out a close friend mine and gifted teacher died back in the US. Barber Becker lost her four year war with breast cancer. During her last few years and months she dealt with cancer treatments, their side effects, and her struggle to accept her condition.
She and I met in a yoga class about 20 years ago. We shared a love for yoga, dance, Buddhism, travel, and lots more. Many years ago she took an early retirement after excelling in teaching special education in the Chicago public schools for many years. Only then did she move on to teach English as a second language which enabled her to make many close from Latin America and around the world.
Ultimately, she moved on to train as a yoga therapist. She began teaching classes of adults with and without MS and helped others privately with their physical and mental challenges. I eventually ended up taking her yoga classes all over the Chicago area. From time to time we travelled together. At one point we went to Guatemala to study Spanish and see the country. We also drove to the East Coast to attend sessions at the Kripalu Center in Massachusetts and on another occasion to Omega in New York to learn more about meditation and yoga.
When I departed for Peace Corps in Botswana she presented me with a packet of articles on yoga and meditation. While in Botswana we kept in touch by phone and e-mail. She also sent me care packages filled with more articles and homemade healthy treats, in addition to a magnificent appliquéd tree of life which is hanging on my wall.
I feel adrift here without one of my important anchors. I miss my yoga buddy who taught me so much about how to live. But like all good teachers, she has taught me with her art of living as we moved through life together and even now with her long lasting gifts of thoughtfully clipped articles on yoga and meditation. Barbara has passed but she is not forgotten and her teachings live on in many of us who encountered her as she strived to live life to its fullest.