a (malayalee) family affair
(the original blog was slightly different a little more specific. however, certain individuals guessed who i described and took it upon themselves to make fun of the family as well. that was not my intention. i didn't intend to "out" anyone or highlight an individual's idiosyncrasies. this post could be describing any church and, after going to a few marthoma churches, i'm convinced that families like this are everywhere.)sometimes i think that an anthropologist or sociologist would have a field day studying the traditions, practices and culture of malayalee people. i know that i'm constantly astounded by the eccentricities i witness whenever i'm surrounded by my people. case in point: the palm sunday service at church yesterday.
the marthoma church i went to yesterday is TINY. when they purchased the building 10 years ago, i don't think the congregation expected to expand so much that the building would be woefully inadequate, as it is now. the congregation has been on the lookout for a new church or suitable plot of land to build upon, but as with all things involving malayalee people, the process has been slowed and made inefficient by the "suggestions" of the members. however, that's a post for another time. the church is always overcrowded enough to cause any fire safety instructor to experience a conniption fit, but on any "special" day, it's insane. if you want to hear the service, you're better off sitting in the parking lot with a tin can that connects by string to another tin can held by someone lucky enough to get a precious seat in the church. if you want to see it, i'd recommend stacking a precarious combination of boxes, trash cans and random, wandering children on which to stand so that you can peek through the window. the risk of injury would be just as great as you'd incur trying to squeeze into a space in the overcrowded pews.
if you've never tried to sit in a crowded mar thoma church, then you're missing out on one of life's most challenging tasks. bunjee jumping is easier than trying to finagle a few inches of prime seating area. renting an affordable, elevator operated, doorman attended, central air conditioned apartment close to several subway stops in the trendiest areas of new york is less stress inducing than trying to attend service. there are no words for the insanity that ensues on a "special" sunday. churches that are normally at a pleasant 68 degrees become smothering, sweltering, scorching death traps when they're over-occupied. yesterday, the dc weather hovered in the upper 40's. however, inside, it felt like we were in the middle of an erupting mt. vesuvius.
why is this a big deal? well, there are only two exits (not counting throwing yourself from a window out of frustration) -- through one tiny doorway that leads into the office, which is full of parents who want to hear the service and their unruly toddlers who can't behave in church, and one slightly less tiny doorway that leads to the front foyer. there's a current proposition to enlarge this second hallway because apparently it has only taken 10 years for the congregation to realize that exiting the building after qurbana has ended takes longer than the service itself.
unless you get to church 5 minutes early, then chances are, you'll be stuck sitting on a folding chair in the aisles (which does wonders to ease the flow of traffic) or, more likely, on folding chairs in the foyer or entranceway. if you get to church 15 minutes late, then you'll be sitting on the staircase, standing amongst the folding chairs in the foyer or you may give up and go downstairs to the fellowship hall to drink coffee with the uncles and watch hyperactive children run around like maniacs. it's good times.
now that i've laid the foundation for the story i'm about to tell, i think you can appreciate how insane this congregation (and of course, according to my stereotyping mind, all malayalees by extension) is. peter and i were 2 of the unlucky ones who got to church 5 minutes late and so we opted to sit in the foyer instead of fighting for our lives and a seat in the church. our seating afforded us a fabulous view of the church bulletin board about 16 inches in front of our face, as well as the backs of 3 giggly, 12 year old girls who foolishly stood even closer to the wall so that when they sat down, they were so close that they could have practiced french kissing with the thumbtacks.
this prime seating allowed me to view a sliver of the congregation inside the church if i turned my head to a 75 degree angle on the right and jutted my neck out just so. i was in the process of doing this when i viewed a rather predictable sight. anyone who has attended a malayalee function, be it something as ordinary as church or an occasion like a wedding or christmas service, can attest to the fact that the event is not complete without at least one person fainting dramatically. this past palm sunday service was no exception and i was eager to see all i could so i could properly snark on it later in this blog.
daughter, her mother and father stumbled down the aisle amidst the clutter of strollers and folding chairs filled with people. this in itself was a spectacle for the following reasons. they are one of those families who are absolutely convinced of their mar thoma royalty. uncle fights to be choir director and secretary/v.p./treasurer/some other head honcho position every year in elections. aunty is the flagship for the sevika sangham (the women's group) and the daugther is always a big cheese with the youth group. of course, the three of them always sit in the very first row of the church. the son is somewhat of a black sheep (i.e. normal) and sits in the back so as not to attract the attention his family so obviously craves.
anyway, so to exit the church, the family (minus the son, natch) had to stumble over the church length. this would have been a spectacle on its own, because you have to know what the family looks like. the aunty is the spitting image of shirley from the seminal 70's show "what's happening" (with a hint of the mom from good times thrown in), uncle looks like the human version of pepe le pue (white streak in center of hair, check), and the daughter was dressed in her princess regalia in a lengha that was about 27 yards too long for her 5 foot nothing stature, thus enabling her to stumble even more with the dragging lengha. the sight was one to behold not just b/c of their unusual appearances, but also because the family had to do it together (you know what they say, the family that stumbles together...um, crumbles together), arm in arm, with the daughter sobbing the entire way.
i didn't understand what the cause of the commotion was yet so i just amused myself by watching their disruption from my 75 degree head slant. the commotion could have died down quickly b/c the congregation immediately grew bored with watching the family proceed on the human obstacle course, but the daughter, never one to miss a moment of attention, decided to collapse right at the doorway. now, i don't mean to sound unsympathetic, but she was right at the door and one baby step would have brought her out of the church. instead, she fell to her knees sobbing hysterically and waited for her parents to lift her to her feet. apparently all the coffee-drinking uncles heard her dog-whistle like cries b/c they came up the stairs running to save her from what i'm sure they thought was some savage attack by a pack of wolves. instead, they came to a stop when they realized she was just giving into histrionics. (what made this more hilarious was that achen was droning on with the service while everyone turned around to view the spectacle). rather than waste the opportunity to be saviors for a day, they valiantly tried to rescue her from...the floor, i suppose. however, their efforts were limited by the sheer number of people crowding in the foyer and the lack of space in which to move.
uncle suddenly acquired some sixth sense and realized the chaos would continue unless he did something unimaginable. he spoke 3 memorable words that parted the crowd like God parted the red sea, "clear the way." of course, malayalees, not willing to relinquish their hold on chaos just yet, decided to make the clearing a badly orchestrated production in itself. they unnecessarily made everyone get off their folding chairs (the resulting din surely thrilled achen and the churchgoers who tried to concentrate on the service) and move to the side. eventually they dragged her to the sofa (another brilliant item to reduce traffic-flow) in the entryway . the moment she was out of the view of the crowd, she mysteriously stopped bawling. it's amazing! it's like the clapper only with the spotlight of attention shutting her on and off!
what caused her to go into histrionics like that (other than her attention withdrawal)? well apparently she either felt like she was going to faint soon (and of course instead of leaving the church when she felt faint, or at least sitting down, she started bawling like a baby.) or someone bumped into her. the bump might sound innocuous enough but she was injured a few months ago and apparently the pain was great enough to cause her to start bawling as well as make her collapse right when she could exit the church w/o causing further disruptions.
i don't mean to sound unsympathetic but i just can't stomach how malayalees are such drama queens. nothing can be down on a small scale when it can be accomplished in an amplified, hyperbolic, must-be-seen-to-be believed sort of way.
(i originally had a really humorous ending to my story (really i did!) but frigging blogspot froze in the middle and lost my entry. i know you're panting for a new post so i tried to make do with what i had, much to the detriment on the quality of this blog).
posted by happy roy @ 11:48 AM
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