Mattias: what will you do after leaving Taizé?
me: i have a plan to cycle to india.
mattias: india, wow, do you know what you will do there?
me: i am not sure. . . maybe just cycle around
and meet people
mattias: mm.
it might be a good idea to have someone from the country to stay with, at least initially.
i spent a year living in india, living with a community l'arche - which looks after handicapped people - and it was only by living with those people and sharing their everyday lives that i really got to know them. the indian way of looking at the world is so different from the european way. they totally accept the caste system. most of the people in the villages in the south of india have very simple lives - their houses are materially empty (apart from the television set, and the mobile phones everybody has), but they do not resent the people who are rich; they are not even interested in them. their acceptance of their place in the caste system is part of their acceptance of whatever happens to them in life. it took me a long time to get used to their gestures. they wiggle their heads from side to side to say yes.....
the more mattias spoke and recounted his discovery of the indian way of looking at the world, the more i realised that i wanted to travel in that way; that is to say, not to remain an outsider, cycling my bike, wrapped up in my own world view, but to share the lives of others somehow, to be involved in their everyday. the voluntary work maettias spoke of sounded interesting, and so when i heard from the sisters at Taizé that volunteers were needed at a l'arche community north of Paris, i decided to go there.
i wanted to be with the people.
there are twelve of us in our house: six young assistants and six personnes acueillis, which means guests, which means persons with a handicap.
Laurent's eyes widen with curiosity and wonder. he points to himself and then thrusts his arm outward, pointing to some indeterminate place, unknown to everybody but Laurent. "petit, badi" - his own language, which he speaks with a tone of urgency. his voice lowers "oooooh", there is alarm in his eyes, then a sharp intake of breath, and renewed curiosity and surprise in his eyes. sometimes his whole face creases into a huge benevolent smile, and he regards one of his companions with great tenderness. at all moments of the day there is drool which dribbles slowly from his mouth to his chin and is caught by a hankerchief tied round his neck.
before mealtimes everybody holds hands and sings a little song of thanksgiving.
after the evening meal it is the time to light the candle and sit around singing songs. there is a time of prayer, which Marie-Astrid adroitly conducts, going round each guest asking them who they can pray for and encouraging them to be thankful for the day.
the response from the guests is normally to pucker their lips, or let out low grunts, or point insistently to some unknown place, but sometimes an attitude of listening can be discerned. there is an air of reverence round the candle.
Sabine puckers her lips and makes a sound by making her lips vibrate. that is her favourite sound to make. she mostly wears a sleepy, unhurried look, but sometimes she throws her head back and lets out a shrill sound. her mouth is open very very wide at that moment. Sabine loves to sit cross-legged on the floor. if someone has put shoes on her she will try and take them off. if someone has tied her hair with a little band she will try and take it off. the only time her movements are unhurried are when it comes to eating, and that is why at the table there must be a buffer zone the length of her outstretched arm between her and anything edible.
the guests have been alive for around 30 or 40, or in one case 58 years.
however, looking after them is just like looking after young children.
if i ever wonder about the usefulness of my life activities, i do not wonder here.
it would be impossible for any of the guests to live independently.
they need the help of the assistants.
Marie-Astrid has been alive for 24 years. she has been in charge of the house for two and a half years. her age is unindicative of how motherly mature she is or how she knows what needs to be done in every situation. she is a veritable mother to the six guests, distributing care and concern and caresses or stern reprimands when they are necessary. the household lives and respires under her watchful gaze.
life is a feeling.
what does it feel like to be alive?
Francine has so much energy. she does not possess very much control over her arm movements. when another person is near her, she writhes excitedly in her wheelchair. she wants to touch you, make contact. her eyes are wide and blue and full of feeling. she makes a lot of different sounds, expressing a lot of different emotions, without ever forming any of our words. i realise that Francine would love to dance if she could.
life is a feeling.
what does it feel like to be with this person?
Gerard has a wide peering distrusting look in eyes. he slumps in his wheelchair and he cannot help shaking his head from side to side. he communicates by finger gestures or by answering yes no questions. when he makes an eager breathy exhalation, it means 'yes'. when he makes a less eager, lower breathy exhalation, it means 'no'.
nobody can tell when the moment will come. the moment comes sooner or later and Gerard breaks into a loud gleeful laugh. his is always a contagious glee. it comes as a relief after his reticence.
some mornings, wandering cries can be heard from the bedrooms down the stairs. it means that soon it will be time to get the guests out of bed, give them a bath, dress them, have breakfast with them, brush their teeth and begin the activities of the day.
Jean-Claude meanders into the sitting room with his wheelchair. he is the grandfather of the house. his capacity to communicate with words is the greatest, but he often keeps his choice of words to a minimum. often he surveys the situation and murmurs, "bon, bon", and then, louder but shielding his mouth with the back of his palm, "Merde"
Jean-Claude's use of the word merde is different from that of other people's. mostly he means hello, he draws attention to himself, he extends himself in an act of convivial communication.
he comments on the weather every morning. "il fait beau" :it is a fine day.
when he mumbles "brouillard", it means that the weather is overcast.
Jean Vanier, who founded the first l'arche community in france in 1964 says, i believe that each person, in his or her unique beauty or worth, lives out a sacred story.
each person is a sacred story, whether handicapped or not.
Gégé loves most of all to sit holding an object between his fingers and watch it swing back and forth. any object will do. it is usually a little cuddly toy, but it could be somebody's slipper, a piece of straw left over from the christmas nativity scene, or a paper serviette from the mealtime.
he penetrates with his gaze. when it alights on you, you know that he has intellectually beheld you. Gégé never speaks, but in moments of contentment he emits a low growling purr, a large smile on his lips.
each person is a sacred story.
it is good precept on which to found a community, with which to approach any human encounter.
me: i have a plan to cycle to india.
mattias: india, wow, do you know what you will do there?
me: i am not sure. . . maybe just cycle around
and meet people
mattias: mm.
it might be a good idea to have someone from the country to stay with, at least initially.
i spent a year living in india, living with a community l'arche - which looks after handicapped people - and it was only by living with those people and sharing their everyday lives that i really got to know them. the indian way of looking at the world is so different from the european way. they totally accept the caste system. most of the people in the villages in the south of india have very simple lives - their houses are materially empty (apart from the television set, and the mobile phones everybody has), but they do not resent the people who are rich; they are not even interested in them. their acceptance of their place in the caste system is part of their acceptance of whatever happens to them in life. it took me a long time to get used to their gestures. they wiggle their heads from side to side to say yes.....
the more mattias spoke and recounted his discovery of the indian way of looking at the world, the more i realised that i wanted to travel in that way; that is to say, not to remain an outsider, cycling my bike, wrapped up in my own world view, but to share the lives of others somehow, to be involved in their everyday. the voluntary work maettias spoke of sounded interesting, and so when i heard from the sisters at Taizé that volunteers were needed at a l'arche community north of Paris, i decided to go there.
i wanted to be with the people.
there are twelve of us in our house: six young assistants and six personnes acueillis, which means guests, which means persons with a handicap.
Laurent's eyes widen with curiosity and wonder. he points to himself and then thrusts his arm outward, pointing to some indeterminate place, unknown to everybody but Laurent. "petit, badi" - his own language, which he speaks with a tone of urgency. his voice lowers "oooooh", there is alarm in his eyes, then a sharp intake of breath, and renewed curiosity and surprise in his eyes. sometimes his whole face creases into a huge benevolent smile, and he regards one of his companions with great tenderness. at all moments of the day there is drool which dribbles slowly from his mouth to his chin and is caught by a hankerchief tied round his neck.
before mealtimes everybody holds hands and sings a little song of thanksgiving.
after the evening meal it is the time to light the candle and sit around singing songs. there is a time of prayer, which Marie-Astrid adroitly conducts, going round each guest asking them who they can pray for and encouraging them to be thankful for the day.
the response from the guests is normally to pucker their lips, or let out low grunts, or point insistently to some unknown place, but sometimes an attitude of listening can be discerned. there is an air of reverence round the candle.
Sabine puckers her lips and makes a sound by making her lips vibrate. that is her favourite sound to make. she mostly wears a sleepy, unhurried look, but sometimes she throws her head back and lets out a shrill sound. her mouth is open very very wide at that moment. Sabine loves to sit cross-legged on the floor. if someone has put shoes on her she will try and take them off. if someone has tied her hair with a little band she will try and take it off. the only time her movements are unhurried are when it comes to eating, and that is why at the table there must be a buffer zone the length of her outstretched arm between her and anything edible.
the guests have been alive for around 30 or 40, or in one case 58 years.
however, looking after them is just like looking after young children.
if i ever wonder about the usefulness of my life activities, i do not wonder here.
it would be impossible for any of the guests to live independently.
they need the help of the assistants.
Marie-Astrid has been alive for 24 years. she has been in charge of the house for two and a half years. her age is unindicative of how motherly mature she is or how she knows what needs to be done in every situation. she is a veritable mother to the six guests, distributing care and concern and caresses or stern reprimands when they are necessary. the household lives and respires under her watchful gaze.
life is a feeling.
what does it feel like to be alive?
Francine has so much energy. she does not possess very much control over her arm movements. when another person is near her, she writhes excitedly in her wheelchair. she wants to touch you, make contact. her eyes are wide and blue and full of feeling. she makes a lot of different sounds, expressing a lot of different emotions, without ever forming any of our words. i realise that Francine would love to dance if she could.
life is a feeling.
what does it feel like to be with this person?
Gerard has a wide peering distrusting look in eyes. he slumps in his wheelchair and he cannot help shaking his head from side to side. he communicates by finger gestures or by answering yes no questions. when he makes an eager breathy exhalation, it means 'yes'. when he makes a less eager, lower breathy exhalation, it means 'no'.
nobody can tell when the moment will come. the moment comes sooner or later and Gerard breaks into a loud gleeful laugh. his is always a contagious glee. it comes as a relief after his reticence.
some mornings, wandering cries can be heard from the bedrooms down the stairs. it means that soon it will be time to get the guests out of bed, give them a bath, dress them, have breakfast with them, brush their teeth and begin the activities of the day.
Jean-Claude meanders into the sitting room with his wheelchair. he is the grandfather of the house. his capacity to communicate with words is the greatest, but he often keeps his choice of words to a minimum. often he surveys the situation and murmurs, "bon, bon", and then, louder but shielding his mouth with the back of his palm, "Merde"
Jean-Claude's use of the word merde is different from that of other people's. mostly he means hello, he draws attention to himself, he extends himself in an act of convivial communication.
he comments on the weather every morning. "il fait beau" :it is a fine day.
when he mumbles "brouillard", it means that the weather is overcast.
Jean Vanier, who founded the first l'arche community in france in 1964 says, i believe that each person, in his or her unique beauty or worth, lives out a sacred story.
each person is a sacred story, whether handicapped or not.
Gégé loves most of all to sit holding an object between his fingers and watch it swing back and forth. any object will do. it is usually a little cuddly toy, but it could be somebody's slipper, a piece of straw left over from the christmas nativity scene, or a paper serviette from the mealtime.
he penetrates with his gaze. when it alights on you, you know that he has intellectually beheld you. Gégé never speaks, but in moments of contentment he emits a low growling purr, a large smile on his lips.
each person is a sacred story.
it is good precept on which to found a community, with which to approach any human encounter.
Carson, mon nami! Je suis très contente de lire ton texte! Existe algo de vida nas suas palavras que emociona ler! Daqui do Brasil, mando muita energia para que você continue sua viagem, encontrando pessoas incríveis e (re)descobrindo o prazer de ser e viver em sintonia com a natureza e com as pessoas! beijos Eliege Pepler
RispondiEliminaGrazie per aver condiviso questo Carson! e la prima volta che l lo leggo e gia` mi sento quasi ancora li!
RispondiElimina