Prejudice

This may be difficult post for some of you to read, since it deals with prejudice and children suffering as well as the goodness I’ve observed in Sri Lanka. Feel free to read or not at your discretion.

It’s said at Carleton that you can’t put people into neat little categories, and that they continually shatter the boxes that you put them in. That’s true here as well. Buddhism, the very same religion that frowns upon killing an ant, has also resulted in an ethno-religious war.

Just so, having this quality or that quality, this thought or that does not make people good or bad. To try to give you an idea of this, I’d like to tell you of the prejudice that exists here in Sri Lanka, and also tell you of what good I’ve seen in the very same people.

For starters, homosexuality is illegal here. Forget gay marriage, homosexuality itself is a criminal offence. In America too, there are archaic laws against (gay or straight) oral sex and sodomy in some states, which have never been struck down simply because they are completely ignored by law enforcement, and there are never any convictions. Unlike in America, homosexuality is an offence which is actually illegal, and people do go to jail for it. (By the way, don’t let this discourage anyone from coming to Sri Lanka. As long as you don’t advertise that you’re gay, you’ll be completely fine. Even hand holding is something you see everyday here between members of the same sex, because it’s interpreted as a non-homosexual expression of friendship.)

Next, there’s the caste system. It’s not as extreme as in India, where some of you may have heard of the “untouchable” caste. However, there are a range of castes from very high to very low, and the vast, vast majority of people will not even consider marrying outside their caste (nor allow their child or relation to do so). Any person doing so is very likely to be disowned by their family, and the entire family will be shamed in society’s eyes. My sweet, giving, caring, and relatively progressive family here, believes in this caste system, and they are far from alone.

This isn’t an easy problem to understand, either. Like racism in America, where minorities are more likely to be from a lower economic bracket, thus have less education, live in a rougher neighborhood, and because of this may even be more likely to involve themselves in crime (or perhaps a biased judicial system simply convicts more minorities). This whole tangle is self perpetuating, and leads to the stereotype of minorities being dangerous or violence-prone. The same thing is here with the caste system, except to a greater extent. There’s also religion, and perceived social status/dishonor tied into the whole mess.

And you know what? Nothing really excuses the prejudices held by most Sri Lankan people. There are plenty of social pressures and customs which explain it, but not excuse it in my eyes. But you know what else? It’s not the entire picture.

Let me tell you of my Nendamma (aunt), who I met with the day I write this. I’m not sure where to start, so I’ll just mention this and that in the hopes that I can eventually give you the whole picture:

I’m in awe of Nendamma. She meditates every day. Her eyes are large, dark and deep, such that I feel as though an ancient stone statue has opened its eyes and fixed me in its serene gaze. She volunteers often in social work, like counseling cancer patients and working at an orphanage for mentally and physically disabled children. Amma told me of that orphanage before. The children are caked in filth, under-nourished such that a 12 year old looks 5. Their neck muscles are sometimes not strong enough to lift their head, and they are so weak that they have to be carried from place to place. These children have never learned to smile, nor to show affection, and due to their handicaps they are prone to lashing out in fits of anger. When you carry them, they may urinate or defecate on you, simply because they have no control, or because they are not used to the kind contact. To volunteer at such a place is one of the most soul-breaking experiences I can imagine.

Nendamma didn’t tell me of any of this. She just mentioned that she was going to volunteer again soon at the disabled children’s orphanage. Having heard about this place from Amma, I remarked in Sinhalese that volunteering there is very difficult. She genuinely didn’t know what I meant. Amma explained, and Nendamma told me that it was not difficult; that to not volunteer, to do nothing would be difficult. For someone else this would seem like modesty, and like she was deflecting compliments…but Nendamma really meant it.

How do you reconcile such contrasts? Such good people with such petty prejudices? I don’t know my Nendamma’s ideas on race, caste, etc., but my Amma is the same sort of good person, who takes on not just her problems and concerns but that of her entire extended family; gives alms to the poor; still cries two years after the death of her father; has such a big heart that I can only observe her in awe.