I recently spent a week working with a Tharu
folkloricist and cultural activist named Ashok. In his sixties, he has spent
years researching various aspects of his own Dangaura Tharu culture, with a
special attention to texts such as folk stories and epic songs. For him, these
texts contain a Tharu philosophy of life, the key to a distinct Tharu cultural
identity.
Ashok’s activities are not unique. Nepal is a
country with significant cultural diversity; one pair of scholars estimates
there to be over 100 distinct cultural groups, each with their own language
(not just a dialect of the Nepali language). But with a 250+ year of Hindu
rule, and an especially intense time of Hindu monarchial hegemony between 1960
and 1990—the country only emerged as a democracy in 1951—this cultural
diversity was heavily downplayed in an attempt to create a pan-Nepali identity,
based around high-caste Hindu norms. After two people’s movements demanding
democratic rights (1990 and 2006) and a ten-year Maoist civil war
(1996-2006—where the Maoists were quick to capitalize on the marginalization of
various groups, creating ethnic fronts in addition to their People’s Liberation
Army), the political climate within Nepal now heavily emphasizes distinct
ethnic identities. There is a public celebration of ethnic and cultural
diversity which was not present when my family lived here in the 1990s (like a the Newar cultural festival in my Patan neighborhood before Tihar, complete with live handicraft demonstrations; or a mela in Kathmandu during Maghi, the Tharu new year, where provided refreshments include pork, small crayfish, and roasted rat--all Tharu delicacies!). Lots of
groups are now seeking to regain cultures they believe to have been lost or
taken away from them during previous nation-building projects.
Among the people Ashok introduced me to, he noted who
also made Tharu culture their priority. He commented at one point that it might
be fruitless to ask questions concerning significance or meaning to some
performers—they just saw music and dance as entertainment, or a way to have
fun, rather than “a philosophical thing.” Hence, many Tharu people had left off some performances, because they saw “no utility” in them. His job, as he sees
it, is to inform the Tharu people that these cultural performance traditions
are “Tharu self-things”—if they leave off performing them, they leave off the
things that make them a distinct people, and gives them an identity.
Ashok does have a concept that culture changes—at
one point, he described Tharu culture to me as a river. A river winds through
several geographic areas, carrying a variety of things from many places. There
were things that were now part of Tharu culture that had not been there before.
Take Christianity for an example. There were lots of Tharu congregations
now—some villages had more than one—and while this had come from another place,
many Tharu had adopted it as their own. However, Ashok also viewed too much change as a loss of identity. Take all these
performances we were looking at. Younger Tharu could not sing or dance or act
or express the way that the older generation could. Some learned more from
popular culture than their own traditions, and were better at a Pahadi
(hill—the Tharu live in the flat Tarai area of Nepal) style of dancing and
singing than a Tharu style. They couldn’t even pronounce their own Tharu words
right—according to Ashok, the Tharu language has no dental sounds, only
retroflex. But since Tharu children attend Nepali schools from a young age,
their mouths become accustomed to making dental sounds and they employ these
indiscriminately in pronouncing their own Tharu words.
In our conversations, Ashok indirectly asserted
that identity needs to be based on something that is unchanging and reliable. For
him, culture needs to be that thing—while some aspects may change, culture
should have an unchanging core.
But the very nature of culture is that it’s
changing, transient, porous—unreliable. With these characteristics, culture
makes a weak cornerstone for identity. As a TCK (now ATCK), I’ve tried that one
on for size and it’s failed every time. Don’t get me wrong—I love culture and I
think it is important; I wouldn’t have embarked on an academic career in the
subject if I thought otherwise. And culture does have a place in identity (a
huge place—and something the church should reflexively recognize, but that’s
for another blog entry). And while change is not intrinsically good, the Bible does
teach that change should be a good thing—God takes us as we are, but then makes
us, changes us, to be more like Christ. We’re works in progress until His
return (my mother recently purchased a new Mac Mini; in moving files from her
old Mac to new Mac, she has been constantly complaining to me about all the
changes in the operating system. I told her that as a Christian, she should
be all about change—not to mention the whole experience as a sanctifying opportunity
to “count it all joy” [James 1:2,3] and “do everything without complaining and
arguing” [Philippians 2:14]. Maybe she now regrets having me memorize those
verses as kid…).
But for something like identity—as Ashok
recognizes—a reliable, unchanging foundation is needed. Scripture makes it
clear that Christ is the only unchanging entity in existence. In a world where change—good and bad—is
inevitable, Christ makes the only reliable bedrock to an otherwise transient existence
(not to mention does much to keep a person sane!).
The song “Here Am I”—based on imagery from Isaiah
chapter six—has become a favorite reminder to me that being consumed by God’s
glory is where my primary identity lies as a Christian. The primary reason I exist is
to worship and give glory to the one, true God; change and culture fall into
place in light of that truth.
Here Am I
(as performed by Enfield)
Here in your presence
We are consumed
We gather to lift up your name
The train of your robe
Surrounds us here
We join seraphim in refrain
Holy, Holy, Holy
The whole earth is full of His glory
Woe is me!
For I am undone and my lips are unclean
But you chose me
To carry your word till the end of my days
For my eyes have seen the king
Of all kings
Here in our presence
You are enthroned
We gather and request this
Ignite our hearts
With a passion to match
The coals that kiss these lips
Holy, holy, holy
The whole earth is full of His glory
Woe is me!
For I am undone and my lips are unclean
But you chose me
To carry your word till the end of my days
For my eyes have seen the King
Of all kings
Woe is me!
For I am undone and my lips are unclean
But you chose me
To carry your word till the end of my days
For my eyes have seen the King
Here am I, send me!
A witness to splendor and great majesty
You chose me!
To carry your word till the end of my days
For my eyes have seen the King
Here am I, send me!
A witness to splendor and great majesty
You saved me!
The cross is the coal that has cleansed me to sing
I’m safe in the grace of the King
Of all kings
