For the First and Last Time

I neglected to mention one event that occured our first night in Agra.

Before we left for India, we were told that the tourist days of our trip were really up to us; of course we would see the Taj Mahal, but everything else was fairly flexible and we should have in mind what we wanted to see and do.

My mental bucket list consisted of two things: 1) Ride an elephant, and 2) See an Indian wedding.

Both of these wishes were granted, because we had an awesome tour guide. I have since learned to be careful what I wish for, however.

Mere hours after I expressed my wish to see an Indian wedding, we found ourselves approaching one as we drove along. Our tour guide, Benson, pointed it out to us, and we hurriedly whipped out the cameras and watched for the precious few seconds we passed. A procession lined with huge orbs of light carried by actual people met our gaze. On the inside of the lights was a massive crowd of very colorful people, most of which were dancing. A tired-looking groom perched on top a white house brought up the rear, and altogether, the scene was dazzling. Noting our disappointed looks for only seeing a glimpse of this, Benson suggested we pull over and get out of the van to have a better look. So we jumped out of the van and stood gawking and snapping pictures, like tourists that we were. 

A few VERY happy individuals in the procession decided to invite the sleep-deprived American family to join the wedding march. Excitedly, we approached the lights and the crowd, because why not? You don't get to be a part of an Indian wedding every day.

Everyone seemed very thrilled by our presence. A man scooped Lydia up to dance with her, which is when Mom appeared ready to be done. Money kept being thrown out by people, and quickly taken by others. A band played very loud music somewhere right behind us. The blaring music and the glaring lights, and the merrily dancing people all had a very surreal effect on my sleepy mind.

 And as intoxicated strangers grabbed our hands to dance with us, and the trumpets vibrated the air by our ears, I realized something. One item on my bucket list was checked off. Very much so.

Delhi Bound

Thursday night, after about 3 hours of sleep, we arose at 2:30 am and left for the Chennai airport, where we'd fly to Delhi, the capitol of India. Walking into the airport at four in the morning, one would expect the quiet hum of activity as we checked in. Instead, we were met with unearthly laughter of an insane man shaking on the ground and shrieking in Tamil. He was carried out a few minutes later, leaving a slightly shocked audience behind. And that was the most exciting thing that happened in our uneventful fly to Delhi.

After arriving, my family and I met up with Benson, who was to be our travel guide for the remainder of our trip.

The bus driver drove to a spacious yet mostly deserted mall a few minutes from the airport. We ordered Subway, and marveled at the painstakingly slow process of making a sandwich, something that takes Subway workers in America mere seconds to create. Indian cooking is a wonderful thing, but if there is something they do not know how to make, it's a sandwich. 

         

                After we had assuaged our appetites, our Delhi adventure began. Benson showed us several important government buildings in Delhi, and talked about the diversity between Hindus and Muslims. Mughals (Muslim) invaded India (mainly Hindu) in the early sixteenth century. It was fascinating to hear about, and my interest in these religions grew as I learned more. 

We neared the Delhi Red Fort, we stopped and got out of the van. Benson showed us to the street, where a long line of rickshaw drivers were patiently waiting for someone to drive around. Nervously, our family split into pairs and hopped in the seats on the back of the bikes. And off we went, into the old part of Delhi. I’m telling you, I have SEEN traffic in India, and it is crazy. This was a chance to be a part of traffic in India. We bounced along the insanely crowded streets, almost giddy with the excitement of it all—the rushing people, the carts, the food stands, the buildings, the spices, the colors. We turned into an extremely narrow lane, lined with bright shops positively overflowing with vibrant merchandise. My driver yelled out to the people crowding the lane to warn them before we zoomed into the crowd. Suddenly he halted the rickshaw. There was an older man with another cart blocking a good deal of the road. It took several minutes of shouting and maneuvering before we were off again. 

At some designated spot we all stopped and got off. Working our way through the crowd, we followed Benson into a building holding shops outside of it. Scents of spices met my nose, eyes and mouth, making all burn. We hurried up a dark, narrow, and steep flight of stairs, and then another, and another. Stepping onto the roof, we gazed out across a gorgeous landscape of antique architecture. On one side of our precipice lay shorter buildings of intricate shops. On the other, we could peer into a courtyard of a mosque, where numerous people washed their hands and feet before praying. The view was breathless and enchanting.

We were standing above a mosque, and this is the place where Muslims wash their hands and feet before praying.

I love this picture, because in spite of the pollution, you can still appreciate the exquisite architecture and colorful touches. 

After this, we went back down to the spice shops. Benson showed us into a little store that sold these things, and my parents acted like kids in a candy shop. They bought cinnamon and cardamom and saffron and Chana masala and little spice candies. My mom plans to make lots of India food when we get home, so I can’t complain about that.

A Gandhi museum was next, and we had a good time reading about his life, and looking at pictures. I saw the staff Gandhi used during the Salt March, which made me happy. 

After this, we got back into the van, and drove 6 hours to Agra.:)

NOW IS THE HOUR

We had the opportunity every night to go to the children's hostel and spend a little quiet time with them, either reading or telling stories, or just talking quietly.

One night at dinner, my parents were relating the previous night's "tucking the kids in bed" ritual, mentioning that they had sung a lullaby to the kids before they left. Of course, they were urged by the volunteers to sing it again, and my parents obliged.

It was a song my parents sang to me when I was little, and it always carried a touch of sadness with it. It captured the sort of bittersweet feeling I had saying goodbye to everyone at Rising Star on our last day. It's amazing how much love you can receive and reciprocate in such a short amount of time. And suddenly you have to say good bye, knowing you've probably walked out of the life of these wonderful human beings for this life time.

The day was the best last day we could have had. Leprosy colonies during the morning, and playtime in the afternoon. I looked forward to spending a bit of time with the girls at bedtime. The girls wanted Brianna and me to sing, so we taught them a few little songs we sung as children. They loved the music, and asked us to write it down for them so they could remember. We did. Our time was too short, and it was time to leave. After heartfelt good byes, we left. As I walked back to my hostel I kept thinking of the lullaby.

Now is the hour

When we must say good bye.

Soon you'll be sailing

Far across the sea.

While you're away

Oh please remember me.

When you return,

You'll find me

Waiting here.

 I'm so grateful for the blessing of be able to work at Rising Star Outreach. I made memories there that I will never forget, and I hope that I can be a better person because of this experience. :)

Connecting With the Children

What I love most about the volunteering experience is spending time with the kids. It's unbelievable how affectionate they are towards all of us. It's been such a neat experience to connect with them on an individual level. Here are some examples.

+All of the kids (who don't know our names) call the female volunteers "Auntie." It's the sweetest thing to hear them say, "Auntie, you come!" as they pull my hand to go play with them.

+One little boy, Moosha, pretended to be a puppy for the entire playtime. He crawled around on his hands and knees and 'fetched' anything we'd throw for him. At one point he crawled up to me with bright flowers in his teeth for my hair.

+There is one UKG who knows my name. Her name is Valenkinni and she has 'dancing devils' in her eyes. She reminds me of Olivia on the Cosby Show. Her favorite game at recess is Catcher, a game like tag. So I hear, "Kreesteen ees Catchah!!" And she runs away from me as I chase her around.
She's caught on that I love taking pictures of her, so now she poses for them. I was helping her color on education day, and she drew some candy--"yummy, tasty!" Oh, she's a nut.

+There's another UKG named Keatona who is so round and chubby and cute. One recess I taught her a game (High five, up high, down low, too slow, cut the pickle, tickle, tickle!) and every time I got to the tickling part she'd collapse before I could even touch her and giggle uncontrollably. Then she'd ask me to do it again.

+Saturday night was movie night, where all the kids gather in the dining hall to watch a movie on the projector. As soon as we walked in, all the little girls gestured for us to sit by them. I sat down, and the girls snuggled up to me, it was so cute. At one point, I had five girls laying on my lap. One girl fell asleep on my lap. I looked down at her sleeping features and I struck me that she is a daughter of God, just as much as I am. Heavenly Father is every bit as aware of her needs and desires as He is of mine. I felt so much love for her in that moment, and I wish to feel that love for everyone else.

+On the last day, a little boy found me and wanted to play catch. Its funny how one the last day, instead of playing with many groups of people as I had planned, I ended up playing with one boy almost the entire time. I was so happy I did. To shake things up, the boy and I started doing something funny with the ball before we threw it. I bounced the ball twice before thowing it; he'd do the same. I'd toss it around my waist, he'd try to imitate me. I spun the ball on my finger, and he laughed, shook his head and said , "No, auntie." After practicing the spinning, he could do it quite well.

+I had a special experience getting to know two 12-year-old girls here. Miriam was the first I met. She was very quiet, but asked very perceptive questions. Honestly, in the initial whirlwind of kids, I didn't pay much attention to her. Then one afternoon during playtime, she cam up to me with another girl who she introduced as Mispa. The three of us proceeded to talk for the remainder of playtime. It was very rejuvenating for me to talk to them. Usually, I play with the kids, but rarely do I have a real conversation with them, and this was a nice change. I felt like I got to know the girls, as we talked about the differences between our two cultures and climates. Mispa started talking about stories in the Mahabharata, an epic Indian poem which is all about gods and such. I was glad I had brushed up of my knowledge of Hinduism, and was able to follow what she said at least somewhat. She mentioned Krishna, and I--trying to ask an intelligent question--asked what he was the god of. She told me he was the creator god, then added, "But I am a Christian and I believe that Jesus Christ created the world...I just like reading the Mahabharata because the stories are interesting." Wow, I thought that was a pretty cool thing for a 12-year-old to say.

It was such a joy to spend one on one time with the kids. I learned so much from their unassuming innocence and loving selflessness. I looked up to them as ones wiser than myself, and I cherished the friendships I was able to make.

Valenkinni :)

The Leprosy Colonies

On Tuesday and Thursday, we got to go to the leprosy colonies. Both days were amazing, and I know I won't ever forget the memories I made there. 

We had an orientation on leprosy Monday night, to prepare us for the next day. It got me thinking about the disease, and the social stigma tied to it. Sixty percent of the cases of leprosy are in India. The reason? People see they have leprosy and instead of getting the easy treatment, they hide it. They hide it because when others see they have the disease, they treat them like they are dirty. If a person has leprosy, their entire family becomes isolated in society. One leprosy patient told the volunteers that when he contracted the disease when he was only seven. He overheard his parents arguing about what they should do--they had daughters to marry off that wouldn't be able to find suitors if they knew about the disease. He felt so bad that he ran away. He's now in his sixties and hasn't seen his family since then. The institution of the caste system hasn't been in place for many years, but the mindset still exists. 

So not only do people have leprosy, they are outcasts. People think they are dirty and treat them as such. And imagine, if other people treated you that way, you'd feel dirty too. Unloved and unwanted. These were the sort of people we went to help.

When we arrived, we jumped out of the van and began unloading the supplies. There were several stations. First, someone would check the patient's blood pressure and write up their paperwork. Next, someone would remove the patient's bandages. These were bandages on the feet which were covering ulcers. Someone would wash the feet of the patient, then rub oil on their legs, as the disease causes dryness. 

One of the signs of leprosy is the arm muscles contract, causing the hands to bend at the joints.

Brianna checking blood pressure.

This lady was so cute, she was so happy and talkative. We all sat on her bed and played games and she just laughed.

 It was a little difficult to communicate because of the language barrier. I officially know two words in Tamil--"Nandri" (thank you) and "Vanakkam" (a greeting)-- and the leprosy patients knew about as much English. Still, I felt like we could communicate happiness and love, and those are universal languages. It was amazing how happy these people were despite their circumstances. I was taking off one lady's bandages on her hand. It was difficult to unravel, and so she was trying to help me by twisting her hand in a circle to unwind the bandage. It was rather funny, and we both burst out laughing. It was a precious moment. 

 "I see God in every human being. When I wash the leper's wounds, I feel I am nursing the Lord Himself. Is it not a beautiful experience?

The poor give us much more than we give them. They’re such strong people, living day to day with no food. And they never curse, never complain. We don’t have to give them pity or sympathy. We have so much to learn from them." 

-Mother Theresa

Education Day

Monday, we worked with the kids for the entire school day. The main need we were told, was one-on-one time, something the children don't get very often.

Every period we worked with a different class. Something we helped out with a lot was reading. The children don't often have access to fluent English speakers, so assisting them with reading was useful to their learning.

One of the other volunteers, Kyla, is here with a dance program, and she teaches dancing most days while we do other things. We joined one of her classes with the UKGs (Kindergarteners). It was the most adorable thing to see tiny, bright-eyed  five-year-olds dance. I think I want to take a little UKG home with me.:)

We also had playtime with those cuties--and I captured some precious moments on my camera. It was the best time of the day.

The kids ADORE Lydia.

"What your bicep?"

Push-up contests.

Dad was winning, until one of the kids jumped on his back.

So cute!

"If we are to teach real peace in this world, and if we are to carry on a real war against war, we shall have to begin with the children." -Gandhi

Church in Chennai

Sunday, we got up early to go to church in Chennai. We piled in the van, and were bouncing happily along when--bang! bang! bang!--a series of shots rang out, jolting the van. We had blown a tire. Our bus driver calmly slowed down (there wasn't really a shoulder to pull off to) and jumped out to replace the tire. Thankfully no one hit us. Actually, you may think that since the driving is crazy in India, it's also very careless. The opposite is true, people are more alert and there are less accidents due to inattention than in the US. Maybe we should adopt the style.:) 

We were back on the road in no time, and only arrived ten minutes late to church. 

We were well taught in all our meetings, and the Spirit was really strong. One thing that struck me was how simple the lessons were. Oftentimes, I feel we get caught up in the nitty gritty details that don't matter as much as the basic, pure doctrine. But very simple Gospel principles were being taught, and I think that's why I learned so much.

I also noticed how engaged the children were in the discussion. They all had scriptures out and answered the questions readily. Here, these kids sacrifice to come to church, they usually don't just live 2 miles away from the stake center, like we do at home. Everyone was so kind as well, and I could through their words and actions, how strong their testimonies were.

Auroville and Pondicherry

On Saturday, we got up and drove to a Pondicherry, a town about two hours away. On the way there, we stopped at a town called Auroville. It's a sort of utopian society, where there's no religion or political leadership. They pursue deeper understanding and higher excellence. A huge golden dome lies in the center of the town which represents the center of the soul or something. People who are serious go inside the globe to meditate. I thought the philosophy was really interesting, and it made me want to study it a bit more.

 

We were dropped off at Pondicherry by the ocean. Immediently, we were surrounded by vendors, who shoved merchandise in our faces saying, "You buy?" "Very good price, very good price." Several people wanted to take a picture of Lydia. It was like a group of white people was a much bigger attraction than the monumental statue of Gandhi nearby. Well, at least now we can say we've been to the Bay of Bengal!

 

We entered the marketplace shortly after this; sort of covered street with different stalls selling food and clothes. When we first approached the marketplace, the stench of fish was overwhelming. I could see massive piles of fish guts in a neighboring stall. Fortunetely, as we moved away the awful small gave way to scents of spices and fruit.The bazaar was dirty and crowned, but at the same time, beautifully picturesque, as are many things in India.

 

 I had my first bartering experience! I wanted to buy what are called Ali Baba pants, and I chose a couple that I liked. It was strange to argue a price with the person selling, but I managed to lower the cost a little. Not that it was very expensive in the first place; earlier in the day, I had a meal that cost about 60 cents. 

After shopping for a few hours, we stopped at an ice cream shop, which was delicious.

It was a really fun day!

Our Aquaintance With Chennai Drivers and Rising Star Outreach

Finally, we made it to India! The flight here was extremely long and eneventful. I spent the time trying to sleep and making faces at the cute little Indian boy a few rows in front of us. At long last, we arrived at the hotel at two in the morning, after 30 hours of flying. Sleep is a beautiful thing, especially when you're horizontal.

After a lovely breakfast at the hotel, we began a 21/2 hour drive to the Rising Star Outreach, the school we will be volunteering at for the next week. If you want a description of what it's like to drive in Chennai, picture Provo. Except the drivers don't stay in their own lanes, and everyone tries to squeeze their vehicles into every possible space, even if it looks impossible to fit there. Then add motorcycles, rickshaw drivers, cows, and dogs to the image. Yes, you do have an occasional red stoplight, but as a driver told us, there are no cameras on the light, therefore no need to stop. Honking is also very prevalent. In America, honking is rude. Here, honking is the equivalent to turning your signal on. Needless to say, it was a very interesting drive, and I saw a lot of interesting things and people.

 

We arrived at the Outreach, and had a tour of the school and grounds. It's a beautiful place with wonderful people running it. Their motto for this year is "Together We Are More,"something taken from something Mother Theresa once said..."I can do things you cannot, you can do things I cannot; together we can do great things." I noticed this idea as we were introduced to the teachers or workers at the school. Our coordinator while introducing someone to us would say, "Yeah, she makes this place work!" The teacher would respond, "We all do as a team." This happened more than once, which I thought was interesting.

After our orientation and lunch, it was time to play with the kids. Within seconds, Lydia was surrounded with inquisitive Indian children, who all wanted to hold her hand and ask, "What your name?" It was the cutest and funniest moment to see that little blonde head in the sea of dark ones.

 

It was great fun! A little exhausting if you can't tell from Lydia's face in the last picture. We finished the night by eating with the other volunteers, who are all really funny and kind. And that was our first day in India! We are so blessed to be here. :)

Kristen