Blog Three—Anil's Ghost

Anil’s Ghost has so far been a bit more of a challenging read than any of the other novels we have covered so far in this course, at least in my opinion.  But it is also probably one of the most interesting that we have read.  Several times while reading, I’ve had to stop and wonder how such a conflict has escaped public attention for so long.  Until picking up this book, I hadn’t heard or read anything else about what is happening in Sri Lanka.  I suppose that it goes back to what we discussed in class:  if something that is going on in another country does not directly affect the United States, it doesn’t receive attention from the media. 

The various side stories that are tied to the main narrative make it a bit difficult to keep the entire cast of characters straight, but the way Ondaatje ties all of them together makes the novel that much more effective in the message it is trying to deliver to the reader.  In this way, he is able to show how far the effects of the Sri Lankan conflict reach.  People of all ages and walks of life have been affected in one way or another by the ongoing violence.  From what I’ve read so far, one of the best examples of how much suffering the war has spread is in the list of missing persons on page 41.  Every name was connected to a group of family and friends who were forced to wait in agonizing uncertainty for confirmation of a loved one’s fate.  Even though all of them knew that the answer they were waiting for was likely that their loved one had been killed, it would still bring them the closure that they desperately need.    

Anil seems to have returned to her home country with a similar need for closure.  Although she has been away from Sri Lanka for fifteen years at the time the story begins, she has returned as part of a human rights group in order to help shed light on why the country is in such chaos.  She is very protective of the skeletons that she and Sarath are working with, knowing that they are the most important clues to discovering who is behind the murders all around the country.  She is there to give a face to the victims of the conflict and cannot rest without completing what she set out to do. 

Funny Boy and SALGA

Having grown up in the southwest (mainly New Mexico) in predominately Hispanic towns, I never really had any contact with people of South Asian ancestry until I moved on to college.  As a result, I had never really given any thought to South Asian gays and lesbians and the sort of challenges they face.  After last week’s class, I looked into some of the organizations that we had discussed and it was an interesting subject to read about.  The first group that I investigated was SALGA, or the South Asian Lesbian and Gay Association. 

This group, as its name implies, seeks to spread knowledge and bring about a change in the status of gays and lesbians.  Regular meetings, hotlines, support networks, etc. are part of SALGA’s effort to offer encouragement to a variety of people who may not be able to get it anywhere else.  The sad truth is that our society and many other societies are still at a point where sexual preference sparks such controversy.  But the fact that groups such as SALGA exist to fight the taboo of homosexuality is reassuring.  “Tolerance, acceptance, and empowerment” should be the right of any individual, no matter who they are, where they come from, or what their orientation is.  I have known people of every orientation and while their sexual preference may be part of their identity, it is not what defines them as a person.

As the main character in Funny Boy demonstrates, this sort of support is important when one is met with disgust or disdain simply for being what they are.  Arjie sees nothing wrong with what he does or who he is, but because he is “different,” he is shunned and labeled as a ‘funny boy.’  Because being a homosexual is such a taboo in his culture, his life becomes that much harder as he grows up with the stigma of being gay.     

Blog One—Japanese Drums

One of the most interesting experiences I had during my first semester at community college was having the opportunity to see a display by a group of Japanese taiko drummers.  It was a warm afternoon in early May, close to the end of the semester.  A few friends and I were about to go and get some lunch before going to our next class.  As we walked, we started hearing a low rumbling from the direction of the building we were walking towards.  The sound became more pronounced as we made our way up the steps, and as we opened the front doors the power of the drumming was almost enough to knock us all off our feet.

There were half a dozen young men and women assembled in the lobby of the building, each one standing in front of a large drum.  They were working up quite a sweat as they played, which was hardly surprising considering how much energy they were putting into their performance.  Each drummer was wearing traditional clothing, from colorful happi (short jackets) and patterned obi (sashes) to headbands and tabi (split-toed socks).  Fittingly, the headbands that they wore bore the Japanese symbol for “thunder.” 

My friends and I hadn’t heard anything about the performance, so it was actually a lucky coincidence that we were able to see these drummers in action.  The entire show only lasted about 15 minutes, but it was amazing to watch.  My friends and I couldn’t believe how perfectly synchronized the entire group was as they played and how powerful the sound of the drums was.  Standing right in front of the performers was incredible; you could actually feel each strike reverberating in your chest.   

After the performance, I was able to take a few photos and then we stopped to talk to the performers.  Between our conversation with the drummers and a little bit of side research, I was actually able to learn quite a bit about taiko drumming itself.  Taiko drumming has been around for centuries, but it has only been an ensemble art for about 50 years.  Both the instrument and the art of playing are believed to have been influenced by the Chinese, the Koreans, and possibly the Indians.  The practice came to the U.S. with Japanese immigrants in the early 1900’s, but there were no official practicing groups in place until 1968.  There are currently over 4,000 taiko groups performing in Japan, and there are a growing number of groups in the U.S.