Reflections

I remember it like it was yesterday, even though four months and five days is not that long ago, arriving in India. I was terrified, excited, nervous and free. I took a two day journey from the United States, stopped over in Germany and then headed down to Southern India. It was here that I would start to find myself while helping others learn about the world and in turn help them find their place in it.

Today is a day of reflection for me. Not only because I have 20 hours of travel, but also because it was my last day in Joseph Nagar, the place I have called home since April.

My first day in Joseph Nagar actually started off in a slightly bigger town 45 minutes away where a teeny-tiny, white-haired, nun who donned coke bottle glasses picked me up. She seemed stern and experienced but I could tell there was something under that gruff exterior that I would love. She ushered the other volunteer and me home with little conversation, making me that much more nervous. I had no idea what to expect and the silence carried the weight of thousands of questions that my mind was trolling over. But teeny-tiny nun did not crack.

After what seemed like an endless ride down horrendous roads, and I am being kind, we arrived at a small gated property. The jeep rolled to a stop in front of 50 some odd girls all holding flowers and four nuns scattered amongst the children. As soon as the doors of the car opened little hands started grabbing, little eyes glistened with curiosity, little lips were parted to reveal little teeth who wanted to show us how happy they were to have us. Then the little lips started singing a very big and boisterous song. Looking back on it now I cannot remember one word of the song but I could feel the warmth, joy and pure unconditional love that was powering it. That first day, just like this last day - I cried.

That first day I was so overwhelmed. So many children and all vying for my attention and affection. I was in a completely new country, in a completely new town, with completely new people and a drastically different culture. I thought I had done enough research to feel comfortable immersing myself into Indian life with numerous abandoned or neglected girls. Boy was I wrong. It is such a strange and incomprehensible feeling being surrounded by people trying to talk to you and you to them and neither side understanding. Especially when they are so adorable and they are trying so hard and nothing is getting through to me besides their beaming smiles.

That day I remember walking back up to my room, 30 or more curious children trailing behind, closing the door and thinking, “Holy crap! What did I get myself into? I cannot handle all of this. Who am I to think I can influence these kids? Why did I not learn their language before I came? Why did I worry about what to wear when these kids have three outfits? Why does the world chose certain people to be born into a privileged live and others to be born into a life of desperation and pain?” I had a mild panic attack that day and then again today when I realized that I was truly leaving 82 of the most amazing girls I have ever met. Ever.

Over the past four months I have learned the answers to all of my questions on the freaked out day and I have been educated in ways that even schooling at the most prestigious universities can’t teach you. For that I am grateful.

These children have taught me more about love and pain, kindness and tragedy, appreciation and greediness, and education and learning than I could have ever fathomed. For every wonderful and positive thing I am writing about there is also a horrible one (which I will not write about because it is in their past and they, as we all should, are moving forward). But in most situations, as only a child can do, the children have prevailed and still have the ability to love unconditionally.

This ability to love after all the pain and suffering they have been through makes me respect and cherish them even more. I will miss every single child, but leaving has shown me that - yes my favorite children, the ones I spent the most time with were impacted by my time here, but the ones that rarely spoke and never really directly interacted with me were, I dare say, even more impacted. They were the ones who were crying, writing me farewell notes, asking me not to leave and telling me how much they loved me. It touched my heart and made me feel so honored to have had the opportunity to meet each of them. Sometimes your actions do not get rewarded immediately, sometimes they never get rewarded, and sometimes you get rewarded in ways that you could have never imagined at times when it is the last thing on your mind. Coming here I thought that I would have the most impact on them but in all truthfulness it is them who have impacted and educated me. These last few days have been extremely rewarding and I wish I could convey to you just how my heart feels right now.

It is just numb, numb because I don’t want to let the sorrow of leaving them overpower the love, joy and happiness I have for them. It is just floating, suspended, being pulled by opposite emotions. I suppressed my sadness in front of the children, only letting them see a few tears fall, because I wanted them to be happy that I was able to be with them and remember that. Not to be sad that I was leaving and yet again feel like someone who is supposed to love them is just getting all their hopes up and then crushing them by leaving them alone again.

It is a conversation I have had with the other two volunteers I was able to work with. Is coming and volunteering with the girls for a short period worth perpetuating and confirming their negative experiences of being abandoned by those people who are supposed to love them?

I still can’t answer this question and probably never will be able. But I do know that I will always love them, think of them, email them and write them. I will also see them one more time before I depart India. And that makes me happy.

Amazing August!

After a rough few weeks here in India the past few days have been a breathe of fresh air. A dark gloomy cloud has lifted from the boarding house and things are returning to their happy, positive, and stress-free ways.

This week has been amazing. It included: singing practice, long walks with the girls, teaching them a new exercise routine, four teeny tiny puppies, the buying of saris, making almost 100 balloon animals for the kids, watching them engage and light up when learning about the Moon and to top it off the other volunteer Katy gave each girl a super soft and fuzzy teddy bear. My smile can hardly fit on my face!



I am leaving this location in seven days and it is nice to end my time here the same way it started...with a gaggle of girls who are beautiful, smiling and happy. I rarely get to spend unscheduled, fun and carefree time with the older girls, 8th - 10th Standards. (I teach at the primary school K-7th Standard.) The time we do spend together is basically spent with me directing them or trying to get them to hurry up. Hurry up for exercise, hurry up for breakfast, hurry up for school, hurry change your dress for mass, hurry sit down for goodnight, hurry go to study hall before bed and finally I walk to my room and pass them with a, “Goodnight girls, sweet dreams.” Now wonder some of them haven’t really opened up to me. They never get to spend time with me, some of them are bitter that all the young kids get our attention, some don’t care and other just can’t open up to someone who they don’t know and trust.

For the first two months I was here I was “play Auntie”. It was their big holiday break and whatever we did was just fun. We had no real locked-in schedule. That is a stark contrast to how life is now; to have them adapt to the change and my role changing to “helping and hurry Auntie” was not realistic. So I have made a huge effort as of late to spend more quality time with the older girls. Sit with them at dinner just to talk, ask them specifically how their day was, give them hugs and attention and now take a group of them on a 30 minute walk a day.

A 30 minute walk a day may not seem like much to you or to a child in the United States. But to an abandoned young girl who is basically confined to two buildings and one acre of land - it is monumental.

To them this walk is the highlight of their day. Each day after school I have a line of children begging me to take them on the walk today. These children, whether young or old, are not allowed to leave the orphanage’s property unless they are walking to school or sent out specifically by a Sister. There is even a path directly from our house to the chapel so they do not have to go outside the fence. So for them to be able to go explore for 30 minutes is the most freedom these girls ever see.

Not only do the girls look forward to the walks but Auntie Molly also does. It is really refreshing only to have to split your attention and time between four girls instead of 85. Some days the orphanage and all the girls is just too overwhelming. But I get the luxury of having - a room to myself - with a door. The girls do not.
They share everything. They share their time, belongings and space with 84 girls, 4 Sisters and 2 Aunties. They share their clothes, hairbrushes, pencils, hair clips, shoes, book bags and even beds with one another. They never are alone and it must be hard and exhausting. These girls wake up everyday at 5:30am and go to bed well after 10:00pm every night. They do not get a nap, they do not get to sit on the couch after school (as if we had couches), they get no break. And yet they do not complain about their schedule or chores they just accept it. So to have the power to take them away from the chaos and give them space, quite and one-on-one time is amazing.

This one-on-one time is eye-opening. I am getting to know more and more about them and it makes me love them more. Some of the girls are really talkative on the walks, other are just in awe of their surrounds and a select few completely ignore the Aunties and pretend that it is just them on the walk. Each situation is completely fine with me. You know why? Because these kids follow a ridiculous schedule, have no choices, no voice, and in general no time to just be by themselves.

To take a break from the craziness and just breath fresh air for a few minutes a day is the most solace they get and I respect that they just need to be by themselves during those 30 minutes. I just love being in their presence. They are still surprising me and amazing me ever day.

For instance, today on our walk one of my favorite girls, Margaret, said to me, “Auntie when you leave you do not give me any one gift, I give my heart and you also give me you heart. That is it. I happy with that one gift.”

Now tell me that does not move you.

She, a child who has not seen her mother since she was dropped off here six years ago, can see the true meaning of love and what is important in life. Not material gifts, even though the girls love them too, but extending your heart and knowing that that gesture means more than anything. I will miss her and her view and love of the world.