Some Do’s and Don’t’s

I have before me a bulleted list of possible blog topics and a few scribbled thoughts on a piece of scrap paper, but sitting here I feel at a loss of what to say. I’m still not sure what to do with this blog as a whole- Would writing about my emotional journey be too hippy dippy for most to handle? Do I even feel comfortable doing that? Is it ok if every time I write I just throw a bunch of paragraphs together about things that happened and my reactions?  And I continue to be surprised by the people who I find out are reading. How to cater to such a diverse audience?! So please forgive me if my updates lack clear themes or conclusions.

I’ll start with a story about a cultural lesson, the moral of which I’m still not certain. I had learned somewhat early on that when one sneezes in India the appropriate thing to do is say “sorry.” The other afternoon I was helping out in the fourth standard class. The teacher was writing notes on the board, the students were copying them down, and I was going around clarifying spellings or meanings when necessary. The kids were especially well behaved that day, so the room was relatively quiet when I sneezed. As I lifted my head from the crook of my arm I said, ”sorry,” but looking up I saw forty heads with wide eyes turned and staring at me. After a moment of apparently shocked silence the giggles started and could barely be contained for what seemed like minutes. I said again, “Sorry, sorry!” not understanding what I had done so terribly wrong. Honestly, the reaction was such that you would have thought I had passed gas in the loudest, rudest way possible. The scrappy, often troublesome day scholar (non-boarder) in front of me, Dinesh, stood to my defense and let out a string of sharp Hindi, the only part of which I understood was “Didi bol ’sorry!,’ meaning, “Didi said ’sorry!’” Finally the teacher said something to the class in Hindi, finishing in English with, “Even we are human, too.” Dear God, I felt fairly ashamed and all I had done was sneezed! It wasn’t even a big sneeze! When I asked one of the second standard teachers about it, she said they were giggling because I had politely said sorry and the kids don’t know enough to do such a thing. I’m unconvinced, though, as they were the ones who taught me to say it. It remains a mystery to me. Anyone with knowledge of Indian culture that might have some insight- I would appreciate it.

Besides not sneezing in class, I have also learned in the last week that I need to shut my windows every time I leave my room. Most mornings, Sister Dominic gives me an extra hard-boiled egg to eat later in the day. Last Sunday, I placed my extra egg on the chair in my room, which sits in the corner opposite the window I most often keep open. When coming back into my room after stepping out for a moment, I noticed a trail of small shell pieces on my bed. I looked to see the egg no longer sitting on my chair. And what was on the floor between my bed and the chair? Bird doo. Those silly crows who I always welcomed to sit outside my window had actually flown in my room and taken my egg! That day I chased them off every time they came to my window saying, “No! You’ve crossed a line!” But I can’t hold a grudge for anything, so I’m back to putting my stale crackers and unfinished eggs out on the balcony for them.

Finally, I’ll tell you about a small realization I had. I was playing with the calendar on my phone, counting the weeks Alex and I have been here: 11. I then counted how many we have left: 27.  As I figured out that we were almost one third of the way through I had these chest-clenching reactions in this order:
1. Wow! Only two more chunks of time like this and I can see my mom!
2. Oh dear! One big chunk of time gone and what can I say I’ve accomplished?
3. Oh no! Only two more chunks of time like this and I have to say goodbye to everyone!

A fourth voice, steadier and slightly amused with the others, came last.

 4. Wait. Find things to be happy about in the present moment. The present is inevitable and there’s so much here to make us happy.

 After that I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, relaxing into myself again. If you can’t tell, I’ve been digging a lot through my favorite resource for personal growth, Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh’s book Teachings on Love. So I’ll continue to endeavor to be here, endeavor to be helpful and happy in part because of that helpfulness. And I must say, the fact that I am drinking mango juice in an air conditioned internet cafe to the sounds of some delightfully cheesy music isn’t hurting my mood (currently playing: a-ha’s “Take On Me”). Also buoying: the knowledge that there will be happy faces and many a “Hi, Emily didi!” to welcome me back to the school. Wait, wasn’t I going to stay in the present? Ok, I’ll let the mango juice and AC be enough for now.

Hey Kids!! Sorry to be so long in updating. I spent the last two weeks of September pretty much quarantined in the orphanage as I caught and recaught a fever that was going around the girls’ dormitory. On top of that, my stomach troubles returned, leading to two visits to the school’s doctor, so far with no positive results. Added to all this, my phone’s validity expired, leading to many missed calls and texts– I’ve felt so terribly out of touch! But I’m back– with pictures!!!

 To see my photo albums from India (with explanatory captions) go here: http://picasaweb.google.co.in/laingem

Sorry to keep it short this time, but soon I’ll write more. Enjoy the photos! 

An Eventful Week

Things are going well here in Mumbai! The rains have decreased, leading to some warmer, but lovely, sunny days. The temperature is in the mid-eighties today, which I consider hot, but I’m wondering how this perception will change by the time I get home in April.

This week Alex and I got a big addition to our routines: reading time in the evenings. For about an hour or an hour and a half every day kids, split up into groups according to ability, get the chance to read story books, helped along by Alex, me, some of the teenage boys, Brother Joseph, or Hitansu the social worker. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were a little tough because we had the kids in groups C and D (the second graders were asking me to tell them what “i-t” spelled). Thursday was a little easier with groups A and B. One thing that’s certain: they all love stories. It’s just getting them to read the stories rather than making up their own version based upon the pictures that’s the challenge.

Friday we didn’t have reading or classes. Everyone kept calling it a holiday, but classes were canceled not so we could celebrate any kind of festival, but because of severe Hindu-Christian violence over in eastern India. (read about it here: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/08/29/world/asia/29india.html?em) I can’t imagine this sort of religious intolerance. Here at the school Hindus, Christians, and Muslims interact with no problem; Brother encourages the kids to learn about their respective religious traditions and brings in different types of religious leaders to help them do so.

No one seemed much concerned about the violence, however, as Friday was also the day of the big party. A well-to-do family decided to celebrate the tenth birhtday of their daughter Hema with the 250 kids at St. Catherine’s. This was a lovely gesture and they certainly went all out: DJ, clown, magician, decorations, catering, presents for everyone, and ice cream cones (”25 rupees each!,” the kids kept telling me). I felt a bit uncomfortable, though, when they were handing out cardboard masks and noisemakers by emptying bags over a crowd of screaming kids. The children yelled and grabbed as they scrambled on the ground for these rare treats. Some got five, some got none, some cried, some sulked, and others bounced around thanks to the lethal combination of sugar and loud Bollywood dance music. I found some of it rather overwhelming and not necessarily good for the kids. But during one of the craziest moments, when they were tearing down the tinsel-like streamers and popping what seemed like hundreds of balloons, I looked at Brother, who stood off to the side chuckling and smiling serenely. If he wasn’t worried about it, I wasn’t going to be. But let me tell you, few parents I ever met would have approved of their children acting this way and I certainly would not have gotten away with any of it.

 One good part: I wore a bindi for the first time, thanks to the caretaker Rupa, who painted it on for me. Everyone asked me about it, told me it looked very nice, and added that next I have to learn to wear a sari. I’m up for it!  My favorite comment was from one little boy who told me, “Didi, you are looking very handsome.”

After such an eventful day Friday, I was glad to go out yesterday and take a walk. I went to the post office, bought a couple of t-shirts, ate lunch. A nice quiet Saturday. Or at least, that’s what I had planned until a soaking wet, naked Indian man vaulted a low fence and tried to steal my water bottle. There’s no context that could make this situation make sense, but I will tell you that he seemed to want me to pour the water over him.  I just scurried away while a group of young men laughed. Definitely the craziest thing that’s happened to me here yet…In the moment I was just surprised, but now that I think about it, it was pretty funny. Who does that?!

On a final note, a health update: You’ll be happy to know my stomach is feeling much better, perhaps helped by the addition of peanut butter and crackers that I’ve been keeping in my room to snack on now and then. The new health hurdle is lice. I’ve got them, despite having applied some chemical-smelling, scalp-stripping medecine last Sunday. The box says I can apply it again after 15 days. Perhaps lice are simply something I have to live with. All the girls have lice, to varying degrees and it’s harder than you’d think to prevent them from playing with my hair (plus, I like it– very good bonding time). If anyone has any suggestions, please share!

 All in all- things are good and definitely not boring!

 PS. Alternate title for this post: Of Lice and (Naked) Men

A Little Progress

On Friday Alex and I reached our one month anniversary of living in India. One ninth of the way through, I decided it was a good time to take stock of what I can do now that I couldn’t do only a few weeks ago:

 -hail and direct a rickshaw driver

-count to 20, point out body parts, and say a few common phrases in Hindi

-cajole stubborn kids into getting at least a little work done during class

-correct the worksheets from remedial class- complete with stars and encouraging comments!

-bargain at the market

-comfortably use a squatty potty

-pronounce many Indian names without completely butchering them

-dance Bollywood-style to the song “Pappu Can’t Dance Saalaa”

-eat rice and dal with my hands

-discern when kids are actually trying to teach me Hindi or when they’re just trying to get me to say dirty words

-buy a ticket and ride the local train

-and more…?

  This first month has been all about getting comfortable here. Now that these things are under my belt, I feel much more ready to offer whatever I can to the school. Although I’m still not certain what that is, I’m more confident than I was at the start. Stay tuned!

Miscellany plus pictures!

I’m sitting in Irish Suzanne’s apartment using her and her partner Brendan’s generously offered internet to update you. Life here continues well as I continue to settle in. Things are feeling comfortable and familiar, which probably means I’ll be starting my project soon. Not knowing exactly what I have to teach the kids (assuming they aren’t interested in my thesis topic of Quaker antislavery during the colonial period) I’ve ended up deciding to give small group voice lessons. But Emily, you might be thinking, you never took voice lessons. Correct. But quietly sitting in choir from 4^th grade through college, I ended up retaining a little bit of information on breathing and vowel sounds. Plus, they’ll be starting from scratch, giving me a head start.

Everything at the school this week has been focused on tomorrow, Indian Independence Day. There will be no classes, but all sorts of marching, singing, speeches, and a flag hoisting. I find the excitement and preparations fascinating. American Independence Day is all about fireworks and barbeques. Here they talk about the violence, bravery, and sacrifice required of Indians in 1947, the year England was finally forced to give up their “Jewel in the Crown of the Empire.” Perhaps it’s my appreciation for history, but I’ve really been enjoying it all.  There will definitely be pictures and hopefully a short video or two to put up soon.

In other good news, I think Alex and I have made a couple friends. Hal (thanks, Hal) email-introduced us to a commerce student at a nearby college who he knows from bringing Union kids to Mumbai on the yearly mini-term abroad. Last night we met her out with her boyfriend; they are both kind, lovely people. We had coffee then walked around Bandra, visiting the local “mall” (quite different from American standards) and the extensive market on Linking  Road. We have plans to go out to dinner on Saturday, plus an idea to go to the movies sometime. Real, live Indian friends! Well, acquaintances, anyway. :o)

A good deal of interest has been expressed in the state of my stomach. I’m happy to tell you, but if you aren’t happy to read about it, I suggest you skip the next paragraph…

I haven’t had a solid bowel movement in two weeks. The first five days I felt perfectly fine. Then, I don’t know what happened, but the first Wednesday evening here I experienced some serious trouble at both ends. Adding insult to injury, any bathroom visit longer than 30 seconds is a leg workout, too, so I haven’t even been able to enjoy some nice, leisurely toilet time. Since the initial trouble I’ve been perfectly functional, just continually slightly off. I can’t figure out any particular cause, so I’ve been chalking it up to general adjustment. The good news is that I’ve been improving the past couple days and I’m certain I’ll be back to normal soon.

One last note before some of Suzanne’s pictures: Suzanne, mentioned twice in the blog, has been a wonderful volunteer for the school since she joined Brendan here last winter. She’s heading back to Ireland in a week and a half and her last day at the school was today. (Boy, did I get a glimpse of how hard it will be to say goodbye in April). I don’t know that I can officially speak for St. Catherine’s or the kids, but her positive impact was clear from the way the students love and respect her. So, thanks Sue. Your goodness is appreciated.

Some counsellors and kids in the office.

Alex and I with Deepak, one of the older boys who has a dancing scholarship at the leading professional studio in India.

The boys getting lunch (this meal gave me my first fresh fruit since arriving!).

Suzanne and I with (left to right) Indra, a boy I don’t know, and Aarti.

Last one:

Suzanne and Manoj, one of the friendliest kids and best dancers you’d ever want to meet. He’s trying to learn my American accent and greets me with, “Wassup, didi?”

Fin!

Lessons in Patience

(Beginning note: there are about 42 rupees to the American dollar) 

On the visas we got to come here, Alex and I were directed to register with the Foreigners Regional Registration Office. Although it was crossed out on his visa, mine said to do so within fourteen days of arriving. So yesterday, on our two week anniversary of being in India, Alex and I headed out to officially let the Indian government know that we are here and we are planning to stay for a while. A forty minute, 200 rupee taxi ride and some street wandering later, we got to the office at 3:15, only to be told that it closed at 2 (not mentioned on the website).  We would have to come back Monday.

 Not sure what to do next, we decided to find some food. There were some possibilities on one street nearby, but none of them seemed to have any seating. So we kept walking, and kept walking, and kept walking. As far as restaurants, it seems to be feast or famine around here. At one intersection, while we looked around wondering which direction to try this time, a kind stranger asked if we were lost. Directing us to the right, he helped us finally find a restaurant. We were seated, had picked our meals, and were ready to order when the waiter told us that the kitchen was closed until 7. Man. Ok, did he know any place whose kitchen was open? We walked down the street a ways and finally found a restaurant with an open kitchen. I got some vegetable makhanwala and roti, Alex got a chicken dish with steamed rice, and we worked our way through two large bottles of water. It was a very satisfying meal, perhaps only because it was so hard to come by, and we decided just to head home before our luck got any worse.

 Right outside the restaurant a very friendly taxi driver agreed to take us all the way back to Bandra, our neighborhood. Unfortunately, we hit rush hour perfectly. So we’re riding and riding, I was looking out the window, Alex was playing with his phone, when the driver just pulled over. He got out, opened his hood, and informed us that he’d find us a new taxi, but he couldn’t keep going. He got us a new taxi right away and told us to pay him whatever we wanted (100 rs was probably not too far off what we actually owed him).  The new driver was a little grumpier and definitely more tired–there were at least three instances where he dozed off while waiting for a red light, causing much anger and honking from the drivers around us. All in all, it took about 2 and a half hours to get home, plus 250 rupees for the second driver. And of course, we get to do it again Monday.

 Maybe we’ll take the train.

Hi Kids

Sorry to be a slow updater! While Alex remained sane by exploring outside the orphanage, I was trying to remain sane by ordering my world within the orphange. I’ve learned about 40 names, I know how to speak a tiny bit of Hindi (myra nam Emily hai), and I can play at least three different paddy cake-style games. Now that I feel somewhat established and at home, I’ve been stepping out a bit more.

 What to say? Everyday I mentally write about 5 different blog posts, but I’m not sure what should go in here.

 I really like the institution. I’m very impressed with what they are trying to do and what they accomplish with little means. Brother Joseph talks a lot about child rights and Western therapy methods–everyone here takes part in group counselling, including the teachers and caretakers. (Teaching and living with children who are one step removed from wild animals is not easy on the nerves.) They combine this progressive approach with as much order and discipline as possible, keeping the kids busy and scheduled. It’s not perfection- there’s definitely more violence here than there would be at an American school. The kids are frequently fighting with each other, many teachers lose their temper and smack defiant children, and I’ve seen the Aunties who care for the girls use sticks to keep them in line. Overall, though, I’m excited to be a part of an institution whose goals I wholeheartedly support and whose staff seems to genunine.

 Perhaps the biggest challenge for me so far has been the food. There is nothing wrong with the quality- I honestly like it. It’s the quantity. Have you ever been offerred food by an Indian woman? How about 4 of them at once, insisting you take literally four times the amount you can eat? (I’m fairly certain that Indians come out of the womb pressing food upon the people around them. Even the kids offer me the little treats they get). So at first, I took the food, ate way too much, and felt guilty throwing any away when it’s a rule that the kids clean their plates. But feeling constantly too full has left me with some…digestive trouble. It has nothing to do with the water– it is certainly to do with how much I’ve been eating. I kept protesting, “Too much! Too much!” and so they began to give me a little less, worriedly muttering to each other in Hindi. Then they began offering me things the kids weren’t eating. One lady went so far as to go home and pick up food left over from her brother’s wedding (it was chicken and rice and, God help me, I ate it. It was the first time I knowingly ate meat since I was 13 and I paid for it for three days). Yesterday, I finally got them to reduce my portion to the size of the 8-year-olds’. My goal is the 4-year-old portion.

 Besides the well-meant forced feeding, meals are my least favorite time of day due to the yelling and chaos and my inability to communicate with the nice Aunties with whom I eat. The kind and English-deficient Sister Dominic also eats with us. She’s always in full habit and although she looks rather gruff, she’s a huge softie when it comes to all the girls and women around her.

My favorite time of day comes after dinner (when we have no rain). The teenagers and adults sit outside on the steps in the cool night air while the kids play for the last few minutes before they have to go inside. Everyone is full and content and chatting pleasantly.

What else? There’s so much I could say! 

I want to tell you all about specific kids and how great they are– spicy 11-year-old Asha who, when two albinos were at the school, cheekily yelled out, “Emily Didi!! Your people, your people!”; charming 16-year-old Sunil whose life has certainly been harder than he has admitted to me, but who manages to be so upbeat and friendly, loving and helping all the littler ones around him; fierce 9-year-old Puja who never really smiles except while dancing and who I didn’t think liked me until she passed me a note that said, “emily didi like strawberry. from Puja”; and sweet, shy 13-year-old Mani who drew me a picture on my first day and who walked outside in a downpour to deliver me a candy on his birthday.

There are lots of them. And then there are others I don’t love so much. But I look for the good and breathe deeply when it’s hard to find.

The best part is that this week I’m finally establishing a bit of a routine and purpose for myself here. I feel very good about this. I’ll help in second standard (grade) for a couple hours in the morning, perhaps have a couple of planning/me hours, eat lunch with everyone at 2ish, finish the school day with fourth standard, and spend activity time differently every day. I’ve joined the staff dance class that’s on Wednesdays and I might go running with the football team on another day or two. Other days, like today, maybe I’ll just go for a walk and stop in an internet cafe….

Topics for the future: Irish Suzanne and my lesson in bargaining, being white, and ideas for my project.

 Peace,
Emily Didi (Big Sister)

 PS. Similarly to my study abroad, I’ve noticed a cycle of ups and downs, feeling useful and feeling useless, feeling capable and feeling overwhelmed. Today has been middle-range to up. But I wanted to give you fair warning in case not all blog posts are so positive.

 But in this moment I am happy!

Getting Ready

Well, in 24 hours I’ll have arrived to JFK from Syracuse and I’ll be waiting for my flight to Mumbai (by way of Brussels). All that I’ve been thinking and talking about the last few days has been India and I’m anxious to dive in and get started. Of course, first I suppose I should finish packing…

The past few weeks since graduation seem like a blur. Between dealing with complications from my wisdom tooth extraction (ugh…) and preparing for and celebrating my sister’s wedding (beautiful!), I hope I’ve been able to adequately prepare for this journey. What I do know is that I’ve never been so certain that I’m on the right path. I just don’t happen to know where it’s leading. But then, that’s the fun of it.

Left on the docket: finish packing, dinner with Mom and Dad (homemade mac and cheese!), see/call friends to say goodbye, and try to get some sleep.

I’m really going!