Whisperings

Raising children is no easy feat at the best of times, doing it in unfamiliar territory is doubly so. The experience is especially hard when you migrate with children at an impressionable age more so than for the parents whose children are born in the new land.

When parents have minds conditioned with different ideals or ways of thinking, it becomes a clash of cultures between the parent and the offspring. It would not magnify to a problem if parents make an effort to adjust to the new surroundings. Adjusting is not necessarily a bad thing. After all, we made the conscientious decision to migrate and make the new land our home. We can adapt while retaining our cultural identity.

The children in the former category struggle (initially) or try hard to be accepted by their peers in the new land. If they have to struggle at home as well with unrelenting parents, their life becomes one hell of a misery.

I have witnessed and heard comical stories of integration, or trying hard, down to a domineering fathers’ threat to take the family back to SL, if his daughter insisted on going out with her high school friends.   

Children in the latter category – ones born and bred here- are not in the same predicament as children migrating from SL. They have no need to force themselves to integrate as they already feel one of ‘them’.

For them Sri Lanka is a distant country their parents came from and an occasional holiday. They have no emotional connection with that faraway land and are inherently accustomed to the culture of the land they were born and living. Majority of the time parents too (have) become accustomed to a different lifestyle by the time the children reach the rebellious teen years making it easier to cope. Or should I say in-tune with the culture to understand the children better.

I fall into parents in the latter category. Yet, amidst getting accustomed and comfortable as time progressed in another culture I have simultaneously become more Sri Lankan, than I was when living in SL - if that makes any sense at all.

I have a newfound appreciation for homeland traditions.

My longing to make my children appreciate and have an understanding of their heritage has become a tough mission due to living faraway from a major metropolitan area. Expatriate SL community usually gravitate towards major cities hence SL associations and celebrations- an essential link for the overseas born and bred - held only in major cities.

When you live too far away from the big city, parent/s become the only educator of SL culture and sustaining is no mean feat. I have bought numerous basic Sinhala language learning books that are gathering dust. I start the teaching process with a passion that withers away as time rolls by, until I reach the next phase of “I have to teach the children to speak Sinhalese” - by which time the previous lessons forgotten.

I go through stages of “Sinhalese only in this household” and then forget the rule, as everyday life has a tendency of taking over.

When my children speak the smattering they know, they choose the words picked up from their visits to SL. However, it is of the unsavoury kind - ‘pissuda’, ‘modaya’ and similar.

I can only have a smile when they yell at each other, “oya hari pissu”  “mokada wela thiyenne modaya”

At least they are speaking in Sinhala.

I am only trying to understand.

Why did you stop with final achievement within your sight? It does not make sense to me. When I asked, you said, “It is too strenuous.”

I tried to comprehend, “Is it because training interfered with getting your homework done?” You said ‘no’

Few months back when you said you wanted to quit, we discussed about it and I explained my view on why it makes sense to continue when the reward is in sight.  

You agreed and we proceeded.

When I came home on Wednesday, you dropped the bombshell on me. With grading this Sunday, you said, “I don’t want to do karate anymore”. I must admit, it did not register with me at first. My brain had the immediate reaction brains have -  recall our previous conversation of (you) stopping karate altogether when you get the black belt.

With the realisation of your intentions and several questions later, your inclusive answers were “it is too strenuous” or “I don’t know”

Well son, it does not get strenuous overnight and there is no such answer, as “I don’t know”.

You were going for your black belt, son!

I have learnt since then, something happened at training on Monday and I want to know what it was. What exactly did that boy tell/call you and how did it affect in your decision to halt abruptly. It has to be something that went deep.   

You only had to go through two more days of training - the usual Thursday training and an extra day of training on Sat before the big day on Sunday.

It does not make sense to reach as far as your brown belt, continue to aim and train for the black belt, and then stop. Just like that.

You don’t do a marathon and say “I give up” when the finish line is within reach.

All I want is to understand why.

I hope you will open up and tell me, son.

What is it that makes people fascinated with occultism? Recently I went to a show that claimed to connect with the ones beyond the grave. Similar vein to John Edwards’ show.

 I don’t know what I should call her, Spirit talker? Ghost caller? Anyway, her name was Christine and about 20 people attended the show. Poor attendance by any standard. Hmm… it just occurred to me while writing this; perhaps it was because of the morbid nature of the show. : ) Well, I blame JE for making supernatural look fascinating and funny to create a captivating audience.

I went to the show with an acquaintance, as a complete sceptic. Chris, (shorten for Christine) who claim to have the ability to connect with the ones beyond the grave, made an introductory speech about her and how and why she started this line of work.

After the short intro, she asked the audience to be silent and to excuse her facial expressions while concentrating to open the doors to the realms of the spirit world.  

She went into a trance like state and suddenly called, “is there a person here, who had a relative by the name of “chuck” passed on?” When no one answered, she went on to describe what ‘chuck’ looked like, his physique, the nick name he had for a family member etc, suddenly someone said “It’s my father!”

My immediate reaction was, “yeah right, this is a plant”.

Anyway, as the night rolled on, I was still a cynic and thought everyone who had a ‘reading’ was a plant. Until she said, “I have an elderly lady here who wants to congratulate her granddaughter on her engagement” and went onto describe the spirit and the names of family members, when suddenly the voice next to me - the person I went with- said, “it is my grandma”. I gave her a look of disbelief, thinking to myself, ‘are you a plant as well’?

Some of Chris’ antics were quite hilarious throughout  the night. In her trance like state, she was having conversations, intermittently with her ‘readings’, with no one in particular (in the room) but definitely with someone invisible.

I don’t know what to make of that show. All she did was tell few members of the audience (whose dead relatives she was able to connect with),  how they look like, their frolics if any, the pet names the ‘departed’ had for the loved ones etc , which invariably evoked laughter from the family members.  Apart from that, nothing else was achieved.

Perhaps that was the motive. For people to go home with the feeling their loved ones are still floating around and can see them.

Am I glad I went? Yes, it is a curiosity thing.

Do I want to go again? No!

It would be dead boring, second time around.