Create A Community That Can't Be Shaken
S.S. Guruterath Kaur Khalsa
Espanola NM, U.S.A.
It was January 17, 1995, approximately 5:45 a.m. Sada Anand Singh, his new wife, Kudrat Kaur, Kartar Singh (who had only been in Japan for four days and was still in cultural shock) and I were doing Sadhana. I was back in Japan for only two days, after a very trying trip from India, and was enjoying the solitude of Sadhana. We were meditating when suddenly everything began to shake. "It’s an earthquake!" Immediately grabbing our blankets, we ran out of the house. The Kobe Ashram is on the edge of a national forest. We could hear crackling sounds coming from the nearby wooded area. The early morning darkness intensified the sounds of falling rocks and trees. The earthquake only lasted 20 seconds, but these wooded sounds seemed to last much longer. When it finally was quiet, we tiptoed through the glass and rubble in the ashram to get our shoes and coats. We started walking down the hill. Perhaps someone would need our help. It was just beginning to get light. We could see flames in the near distance. We had no idea of the devastation which lay ahead, or that the experience to follow would be so intense and yet so meaningful.
We were fortunate. We were awake, dressed, alert and calm from doing sadhana. Most people did not have that advantage. Some people were lucky; they were able to get out of their homes before they collapsed. Thousands were not so fortunate; they were buried beneath two and three stories of rubble. The immediate rescue efforts were limited to neighbors helping neighbors. There were no tools, trucks or professionally trained rescue teams. All we had was our hands, a few things found in the rubble and a love for life. Strangers bonded for the same life-saving cause. Language, skin color and culture all blended into one family of man. We worked for hours attempting to save a life or put out a fire. We had a few success stories, most were hopeless.
And even though, in most situations, we felt helpless, there was no other choice but to try. In that attempt, in that sweat, determination and love for life, something else was being created. Even though destruction and death were all around us, a sense of community was very much alive. While life and property had been shaken, community had been strengthened.
When I returned, some people commented on our courage. I would not call it courage, I would rather call it training. For 25 years, the Siri Singh Sahib has been training us to "answer the call." We were answering the call of a community in need - no more no less. We were merely living our songs - "When times are darkest, that's when we stand tallest." We were not heros, or special, we were allowing Guru Ram Das to act through us. We all would do the same thing. It’s our training.
And in our Dharma, that training begins when we are very young. Thinking about my experience in the Kobe earthquake, I can't help but also be reminded about what I observed of our children in India. They are being trained at a very young age about community. It starts with their immediate dormitory community. They are a part of a troop, which is broken into two platoons, which is then further divided into smaller squads. An older child is the Troop Commander (TC). There are Platoon Leaders and Squad Leaders, who all are children. Young and older children are in the same squads, which means that older children help younger children. A child who is late means that the whole squad is late. A child who can't tie her turban
correctly may need training from a peer. During inspection, the whole squad and platoon work together to excel. From this young age, our children are being taught to go outside of themselves, to go beyond their ego-centered world.
From the smaller unit of the dorm, the children are learning how to present themselves in the larger community. One sloppy bana reflects back onto the whole. Younger children are placed with older ones to go to town for security purposes. Every week they do sewa at the Golden Temple. Through this selfless service, they are also learning the concept of community - going beyond the "me" to the "we". They play kirtan for neighboring Gurdwaras, do gatka demonstrations, participate in parades and answer endless questions from local citizens. They are learning and experiencing that they are not just living for themselves, they are living for a much larger whole - the community.
What does all of this mean to the rest of us? Each of us can perhaps ask ourselves, "Is there something more I can do to reach out? How can I answer the call?" It doesn't need to be in a time of crisis. It may be a small gesture of hope extended to someone in your ashram. It may be a class you've wanted to teach in the larger community. The Kobe earthquake reminded me of one thing: everything can be changed in a mere 20 seconds. Don't wait. Do it today. Create a community which can't be shaken!