Amita Gupta, Ed.D., has been in the field of early education for more than 20 years. She is a Fulbright Scholar, an international educational consultant, and a professor of early childhood education at The City University of New York in Manhattan.
She is the author of two books:
Early Childhood Education, Postcolonial Theory and Teaching Practices in India: Balancing Vygotsky and the Veda. Palgrave Macmillan. 2006.
Going to School in South Asia. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. 2007.
The weekend celebrations continued with Pongal and Makar Sankranti.
Pongal is celebrated in various forms in many parts of India. I was reminded of my stay in Sri Lanka two years ago. I was in Colombo during January. Sri Lanka has a large Tamilian population and Pongal was a big celebration there as well. It’s a holiday that falls in the Tamil month of Thai on Jan 14th each year. So it’s called Thai Pongal and it is the only Hindu holiday that follows the solar calendar. It coincides with the rice harvest and thanks is given to the sun for a good harvest that has passed and for a good harvest season to begin for the next year. So the sun is worshipped and celebrated.The following article is copied from the Sri lankan newspaper The Island, and provides a good description of this festival:Pongal in Tamil means "boiling over or spill over". The saying "Thai Pirandhal Vazhi Pirakkum" meaning "the birth of the month of Thai will pave the way for new opportunities" is often quoted regarding the Pongal festival. People believe ‘Thai’ shows new ways to find peace, love, harmony, prosperity, joyfulness in everyone’s life.The act of boiling over of milk in the clay pot is considered to denote future wishes for the family. The fresh earthen vessel is adorned with flowers, turmeric leaves and roots.Traditionally, the rice was cooked on a hearth specially built for the occasion. Of course, these days, the hearth has been replaced by the gas/electric stove in urban homes. Pongal, which is also essentially an agrarian festival, is devoted to the boiling of milk in a pot to which rice, Chakkarai (jaggery) and the syrup extracted from crushed sugarcane is added. This sweet rice pudding is offered first to Lord Surya (Sun), Ganesha and other deities and is then eaten at the climax of a family festive meal. People also prepare savouries and sweets such as vadai, murukku, payasam etc. Although it started as a festival for farmers, today it has become a national and popular festival for all Tamils.On the day of Pongal, early in the morning, everyone bathes and wears new clothes. Family members then jointly draw the Kolam (a decoration laid on the floor). Rice-flour (plain and coloured) is used to draw the Kolam. Parallel straight lines can be drawn using a cylindrical rod (Ulakai) as a guide. A Kolam can be a plain one or can be artistically drawn with symbols of cosmic interest. The Kolam defines the sacred area where the Pongal is prepared.
Within the perimeters of Kolam, typically, firewood is used to cook the rice. The Pongal is set up in the direct view of the Sun (East). Traditionally, the Kolam is laid in the front or side of the house, but in areas where cooking indoors with firewood is hazardous, the Pongal is prepared in kitchen and brought to the location where Kolam is set up.The moment of climax is the spill over of the Pongal during cooking. The spillover of milk is a propitious symbol of abundance. Sometimes, firecrackers are lit to signify the moment. Once the Pongal is ready, a Padayal (the offering) is first made. Sharing of the Pongal with friends and relatives follows a few minutes of meditation or a prayer.
Pongal coincides with the festival Makar Sankranti which is celebrated in various parts of India. Sankranti means ‘sacred change’ and occurs every month as the Sun moves from one house of the Zodiac to another. But special sanctity is attached to the movement of the Sun to Capricorn this weekend and is called Makar Sankranti.Makar Sankranti is also a farmer’s festival celebrated on the occasion of the harvest coming home.New Delhi: Today is Friday the 13th - an ominous sound in the Western world that I live in. But in India where I am at the moment, today heralds a celebratory weekend bringing in Lohri, Makar Sankranti and Pongal...After the festivities of Dussehra and Diwali in the fall, it's now the mid-winter festive season for giving thanks and harvesting that celebrates the season of winter crops or Rabi in India. This will be followed by the festivities of Spring with Shivratri, Holi, Ramnavmi and Baisakhi...I want to describe briefly the festivals celebrated this weekend in different parts of India:
Lohri: Wheat is the main winter crop in the breadbasket of India - Punjab. The grain is sown in October and harvested in March or April. In January, the fields come up with the promise of a golden harvest, and farmers celebrate Lohri during this rest period before the cutting and gathering of crops. According to the Hindu calendar, Lohri falls in mid-January. "The earth, farthest from the sun at this point of time, starts its journey towards the sun, thus ending the coldest month of the year, Paush".
I just returned from a Lohri celebration at our neighbor's home. At sunset on this cold January evening, a large bonfire was lit in the open courtyard of the house around which gathered the entire extended family and close friends. The senior-most was the patriarch of the family, and in his house live his three married sons with their wives and children in the kind of joint family arrangement that is still commonly seen in Indian households. There was a spirit of joy and festivity as everyone circled around the fire (parikrama), throwing puffed rice and popcorn into the flames, and singing popular folk songs. A commonly heard chant is "aader aaye, dilaader jaaye" (may honor advance and poverty retreat).The bonfire ritual is also a an invocation to Agni, the fire god, to bless the land with a good harvest, for abundance and prosperity.There were four generations of the family participating in this annual celebration - and all joined into the singing and the dancing, munching on eatables like til (sesame) seeds, peanuts, jaggery, or sweets made from sesame seeds and jaggery like gajak and rewri. Trays of popcorn and pumpkin seeds were also being circulated. Although I didn't stay for it I was told that in a bit, children would start demanding the Lohri 'loot' in the form of money from all the elders.This moment, of course, was what the kids were waiting for! But at the same time they were learning about rituals and traditions that were valued by their families and would be passed down from generation to generation. Although I am not Punjabi I was grateful for the invitation and cherished the opportunity to participate in this cultural celebration of thanksgiving and rejoicing.I was in India two weeks ago during Navratri: the start of the festive season that includes Durga Puja, Ramlila and Dusshera and culminates with Diwali. The stories signifying these festivals can be easily found on various websites so I won’t go into that here. Basically the season is a colorful extravaganza that marks the triumph of good over evil across multiple narratives from Indian mythology. I went to see the local street production of Ramlila (the story of Lord Ram) one night as I wanted to experience the Ramayana in drama form - something I last did several decades ago when I was a child! I soon realized that what used to be a modest roadside show had over the years evolved into a grand theatrical production with a huge stage, colorful backdrops and props, elaborate costumes and a live orchestra in the “pit”, not unlike The Lion King on Broadway which I had been to only a week prior to this. Except this was done by and for the local community - free of charge and in the outdoors. I went with my niece and we sat on rickety chairs on uneven ground, eaten by mosquitoes under a starry September night, watching Narad Muni strut up and down a colorful stage against a backdrop of the Himalayan landscape talking to Lord Vishnu… It was exhilarating to soak in the local culture, but even more amazing to see how many families with young children were in the audience, mesmerized by the unfolding drama on the stage. It was a fabulous example of informal learning, and how oral tradition serves to preserve a local culture over generations as children attend the same events in the community year after year. It was a treat to watch it happen in real life, as children heard these stories of valor and courage, of ethics and morals, of honesty and kindness prevail over the vices of treachery and betrayal, greed and evil. There must have been at least a few thousand people in the audience, mostly families with children from the immediate community. It was quite a display of teaching and learning of local cultural values via the dramatic rendition of an ancient epic that showcased the roles and responsibilities associated with being a father, a mother, a son, a brother, a wife, a husband, and so forth, within the Indian context…
The car ride from Shanghai to Hangzhou is about 2.5 hours, and the hotel where the conference speakers were booked in Hangzhou is amazing. It's so new that you can't even google it yet. I have a beautiful large room overlooking a large expanse of woods and lake! The hotel is ultra luxurious and very glitzy; and inside, right at the front door, is a huge tank of the beautiful red coy fish supposed to bring luck and good fortune.
The first day at the conference was busy with conference sessions, tea break, conference sessions, lunch, conference sessions, tea break, conference sessions, and then a long dinner where I was introduced to the Chinese wine culture. Now, the Chinese sure can drink wine! And traditionally, many a business contract is signed at the dinner table after going around the table and toasting each other multiple times. I actually lost count of the number of times we toasted each other...It's a typical way of conducting an official or business dinner here. My own wine consumption was limited to a tiny sip as each toast was made but one is supposed to empty the entire glass of wine or beer with each toast - and accompany each toast you must to avoid offending anyone.
The official meals have been pretty typical as well going by all the lunches and dinners in the various restaurants where we ate. We sat at large round tables with a huge lazy susan as an unending stream of piping hot dishes kept appearing and being placed on the table. And as "susan" spins gently around you keep helping yourself to whatever you want as it passses by you, dipping into the serving bowls and lifting out with your chopsticks greens, peas, broccoli, spinach, eggplant, lotus roots, all forms of tofu, crab, shrimp, fish, clams, squid,chicken, pork, beef, duck, etc. in various preparations... It's quite a lovely experience as you share a table with a large group of colleagues and associates, dip into delicious food, sip wine or beer, and enjoy good conversation.
Underlying it all was my acute awareness of how many developmental skills (to use the language of early childhood education) are being called into play at these meals: listening and speaking, responding appropriately, going around the circle toasting each other in appreciation and with gratitude, carefully reaching out for foods, being attentive to whether someone else is helping themselves to a dish before spinning the lazy susan, handling the chopsticks deftly without dropping food all over (!), attending to your neighbors and asking if they would like something you were helping yourself to, asking them if they'd like more wine if a glass appeared empty, the importance of trying a little of everything to show recognition, respect and appreciation to the host... There was a clear sense of the self as being more a member of a larger group rather than an individual, and the importance of cultivating relationships rather than just signing a paper contract...
October 27th:
Landed at Shanghai’s Pudong Airport at about 10 pm last night. Have to say that the airport is fabulous and the customs and immigration process was efficient, painless and not at all intimidating. Right from the immigration officer to the hotel staff and the public have been nothing but friendly in the few days I have spent in China. I reached the hotel close to midnight and checked in. It’s comfortable, clean and felt very safe and friendly. Couldn’t sleep as I was still on US time so I went down to the hotel massage club for a body massage at 1 am! Yes, the massage club in the hotel is open till 2 in the morning and it was glorious to have a massage after such a long flight.
I woke up late this morning since I went to sleep only after 3:30 am. I am on the 36th floor of the hotel and the view I have is of the rooftops and skyscrapers of Shanghai as far as the eye can see! It was like looking at a huge version of Manhattan. I went down to the hotel restaurant for breakfast - was so hungry I could eat anything. That’s what happens when you don’t have dinner and opt for the massage instead. I was craving for my usual breakfast of eggs and toast and coffee (we are all such creatures of habit). Unfortunately, since it was after 10am they had closed the breakfast menu and I had to choose something from the vast array of Chinese food early in the morning. The staff in the restaurant couldn’t speak enough English and I had absolutely no knowledge of Mandarin and was beginning to wonder how to place an order. But the menu they brought out was this large, glossy, colorful photo album kind of book which presented a gallery that included each item offered in the restaurant. So all I had to do was to view this tantalizing gallery and order what looked like the mildest and most familiar dish for that time in the morning - noodles and green vegetables. It was delicious and I wolfed down everything.
Walking around the neighborhood I found it to be busy – with plenty of roadside eating places, stores, high rise buildings, wide roads, heavy traffic and lots of people. Eating, banking, and technology seemed to be the dominant businesses here. On my first day in metropolitan China I definitely got a sense of high energy, growth, development, all mixed with human friendliness and warmth.
One day during my stay in Bali I got ready for the long drive to Celuk, Ubud, and the still-active volcano in the north-west of the island. The day was filled with long stretches on the road interspersed with several interesting moments. The landscapes were remarkable and I couldn’t get enough of the Balinese images that lined the roadside: the intricate pagoda-style architecture of the rural homes; rice paddies steeped in water; fruit stalls that lined the roadways with colorful heaps of watermelon, mango, durian, lychees, oranges, jackfruit, dragon fruit, and more; the wood and stone carvings on sale all along the roadsides; figures of gods and deities everywhere; people walking holding flowers in their hands to offer at the alters in their homes, in their cars, on the roadside, and at their place of work...
The most exciting moment came my way almost serendipitously. While driving through one town I spotted a simply huge banyan tree. My eyes were focused on the hundreds of magnificent roots that cascaded down to the ground like Rapunzel’s long locks falling out from the window at the top of the tower. I excitedly asked Ketut to stop the car so that I could take a photo. It was then that I noticed the scores of school children sitting on the low stone wall built around the massive circumference of the tree trunk, and shaded by its profuse foliage. I had stumbled upon a school! I couldn’t go inside the school but did get a good look at its exterior. The structure of the main school building was again very traditional with a large ornately carved gateway in the front, guarded by a statue of what looked like Hanuman on either side, leading into an open courtyard with a statue of Ganesh in the center. There seemed to be two other buildings that were part of the school as well. Outside was a large sign displaying the name of the school and a flag post with the flag fluttering in the breeze. There were at least 200-300 boys and girls in blue and white uniforms hanging outside the school compound, freely moving in and out of the buildings. It seemed to be lunch time or some kind of break. There was a small dilapidated canteen outside the school serving snacks, cold drinks and sate dishes. The school kids were swarming all over the canteen as they got something to eat and drink, standing around, sitting on benches and at tables outside the canteen, or on the low wall around the base of the banyan tree. They were chattering, laughing and speaking in Bahasa Indonesia. I tried to ask some of them questions like the name of their school, and which classes they attended. Between sign language and spoken language they understood enough to give me some of the answers. One girl, who must be about 12-13 years old and was standing with her friends, said Class 1. But communications broke down when I asked what Class 1 was, or how many classes there were to finish school. My guess is they must have been in the beginning grades of high school. Clearly, we couldn't understand each other, and at that moment I so wished I knew Bahasa Indonesia to be able to understand more about the school life of these children I ran into that sunny afternoon in Bali...Sri Maha Bodhi Tree and the Ruwanwelisaya Stupa...
Read an earlier post titled "Sri Lanka: The Sri Maha Bodhi Tree".
