Abu Abu!

Some days, my heart screams for me to drop everything so I can go back just to hug Kartick and Abdul.

"amar Choto Shundarie"

I am incredibly blessed to have made a friend in Kolkata who is able to go back there every year and sends out email updates on the happenings there. I am also incredibly blessed in that she had an emotional connection with a lot of the same children at Shishu Bhavan as I did. I am incredibly blessed to have her even though I find myself in mourning a lot more often than I'd like to (or maybe that's a good thing?).

She is how I found out, before my 2nd trip, about beautiful Jayanti's death. And now she has sent another email and I find that my heart is broken again.

Shyama, perhaps one of the strongest children at Shishu, who has made it through so much - abandonment, malnutrition, fevers, surgeries - in her short life, has passed. She had been taken to the hospital shortly before I left in September and there was always a possibility that she would not make it out. But I hoped she would, as she had at least twice before. She was still in the hospital when I left and I never got to say goodbye. I know she knows I love her, though, and that settles my beating heart a little. Shyama, my little trooper, you will be missed.

Crows

This is just going to be a short one, part Seattle, part Kolkata.

The other day as I was walking to work, I got pooed on my a crow. As I was pulling it out of my hair, I got curious and took a good look at it and gave it a sniff (mostly so I'd know how bad I'd be smelling the rest of my hair). I found it very interesting to note how much healthier the crow poo of Seattle crows looks compared to the poo of Kolkata crows. I'd been pooed on a number of times in Kolkata, and it always smelled awful and was a very disgusting yellow brown color. On the other hand, Seattle crow poo is this beautiful green shade and didn't have much of a smell at all. Though I'd never really thought about it, I realize that it makes perfect sense for the crows in Seattle to be so much healthier than those in Kolkata, considering the quality of the food eaten, and therefore thrown away, here. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Beautiful Moments

I have two stories for you.

The first a number of you have already heard and had apparently known about before I did. See, I have this beautiful friend named Lizzy. She went to Kolkata the year before I did and was a very important presence before, during and after my first trip. We had talked often of how wonderful it would be to be in Kolkata together and share that experience. I figured that such a thing would happen at some point, but I didn't think that it would be happening very soon. Apparently I was wrong.
One afternoon, as I was leaving the Modern Lodge, I noticed a girl walking towards Mother House. I thought she looked an awful lot like Lizzy and was about to shout her name but I had only seen her from behind and thought it couldn't possibly be her. She would have told me if she was in Kolkata, right? Plus, there had been another girl in Kolkata about a week back who looked a lot like Lizzy, only with curly hair, so I figured it might just be another lookalike. I turned the other way because I was headed out to do something else in the Sudder St./New Market area.
Later that evening, I was celebrating the birthday of a friend from Chicago with her and our two Swedish friends. We were walking back to the Hotel Maria to hang out with our fancy coffee and pastries (Barista and Flury's) on the roof. Kartick and Abdul of Tirupati's stopped me as we were about to go inside. They were incredibly excited. They told me in their sign language that Lizzy was in Kolkata. At first I didn't believe them. They had been so excited about the previous lookalike that I figured they were overreacting. But they were very insistent and told me to come back at 9 for tea at Khalsa's and Lizzy would be there.
I did go back, and Lizzy was not there. Abdul and I hung out, sitting on a rickshaw and making fun of each other, and waited while Kartick was off doing his Kartick-y things. She didn't come for another 15 minutes, so Kartick went to see if she was at Khalsa's. When he came back, he was very excited and told us to come.
I looked back in the corner that Kartick and Abdul would usually drag me to when we came for tea, and guess who was sitting there, talking with another friend, Beppe? Yep, Lizzy. I walked up behind her table. Abdul walked up in front of her and pointed at me. She turned around and immediately we both started laughing. She stood up and hugged me and we laughed as we stood there surrounded by Indian men who just thought we were crazy. It was beautiful.

And now for the second story. I wish I were a better writer. I feel like someone who has more of a way with words could do this so much more justice. But I'm going to tell you anyways because it was one of the most incredible moments of my life.
It was my last full day in Kolkata. Lizzy, our friend Matt and I had gone out for an almost silent lunch of Raj Kachori, Kulfi and subpar Mango Lassi. Afterwards, we naturally headed back for Sudder St. and Tirupati's because it was my last day and where else could I possibly want to be?
After sitting and talking for a while, it starts raining hard, although it looks like it is only raining on Sudder St. It seemed as if the skies over New Market and beyond were completely clear and it was just Sudder St. that was affected by this sudden downpour. We sat back and got comfortable because we would probably be there for a little while.
As we're sitting there watching the rain, this little old Muslim Indian man walks in front of Tirupati's in the rain. Lizzy pointed him out to me and he noticed that we were both watching him. He stands in front of us, with two rickshaws parked in front of Tirupati's acting as a sort of picture frame, and smiles the biggest, most wonderful smile at us. He then makes a 90 degree turn, so we see him from the side, and looks up to the sky, embracing the rain. He takes off his cap and lets it fall on his nearly bald head. He stands there for a few moments, just enjoying life. Then, just before he's ready to walk away, he turns back around to look at us and smile that most wonderful smile at us once again.
At this point, Lizzy is crying, obviously, as she is Lizzy. I am smiling wildly and nearly on the verge of tears. We don't even need words to express to each other how incredibly blest we feel to have been a part of that moment in time. It was beatiful.

My life is beautiful.

And what is this letter? S!

I'm back and I've settled in at least a little bit.  I've got no plans for the evening, so I thought it was about time I started typing again.

Let's start  with right now.  I'm feeling a bit out of place.  It seems almost as if Seattle is not quite real.  Or, more accurately, it feels like this is my vacation.  My heart has this idea that in a week or so, I ought to be on a plane back to Kolkata, back home.  I know with my head that that's not true; that's definitely not a possibility right now.  But emotionally, that's where I am.  I feel a bit out of place, lost, confused about what is going on around me right now.  Seattle doesn't feel like home at the moment and I'm not sure when,  or if, it will again.

But enough of that.  I promised you more stories.  I had a list of things that I was going to right about and I'll do my best to remember what they all were, but no promises that this will be a comprehensive account of my time.

I'll start with something I remember well and  have been thinking a lot about.  I'm sponsoring a child (financially) who lives in one of Kolkata's outlying villages through Children International.  Her name is Rina Santra.  She is 5 years old and will be 6 on October 31st.  She lives with her father, a rice farmer, her mother, and her older sister.  She and her sister are both going to school.  Her mother is a housewife.

Since I knew already that I would be in Kolkata, I arranged with Children International to visit her while I was there.  I scheduled the visit for one of my Thursdays, knowing that I wanted to be with my Shishu kids every day I possibly could and not wanting to give up one of those days for the visit.  

We left around 11 am Thursday morning.  The ride there was pretty spectacular, I think.  Once we got outside of the main city and got on the freeway, we hit crazy traffic.  The woman who was acting as my guide and translator, Sunita, told me that she hasn't seen such bad traffic on the freeway in quite a while.  It was festival season and people had already begun preparing pandals for Durga Puja, so we assumed the backup was do to people moving materials in and out of the city.  Our driver was born and raised in Kolkata and had been driving for CI for about 20 years, so he was definitely a Kolkata driver.  And thank goodness, too.  We ended up driving along the side of the freeway for most of the trip, weaving through bicyclists and other drivers and pedestrians the whole way.  It was wonderful and got us there much quicker than had we stayed on the freeway.  Leaving the city also made for beautiful scenery.  Once you get out into the area where all of the villages are located, everything gets significantly more green.  We drove through fields of rice, potatoes, tamarind trees and a number of things I didn't recognize.  Gorgeous, really.

Our first stop was at the local CI headquarters.  I met with the director of that site.  From what I learned through Sunita, this man is pretty amazing.  When the site first started out, they had found about 25 children who qualified for the program.  Now, a few years later (I don't remember exactly how long they said it had been around), they are close to the 200 children mark.  In addition to their work with the children who are already sponsored, the social workers and director go out to the villages and interview the families in the village to see if their children qualify, then go through the process of helping the families organize the paperwork necessary to enter the program.  That's a spectacular amount of work for the 4 social workers and the director to perform, so reaching the 200 mark is extremely impressive.

After chai and biscuits, we headed out to Rina's village to meet her and her family.  We drove past the school and they pointed out to me the backpacks some of the children were carrying that had the CI logo on them.  Backpacks was one of the gifts given to the children for one of the recent holidays.  

The visit itself was, honestly, a bit awkward.  We got to their home, which was one room with a bed, a small table, and a large cabinet containing things like the girls' school books, dishes, and other things they had collected over the years.  Their room is connected to a series of other rooms from which a number of other villagers emerged, so I got the impression that there's a number of families living in the building and there is some sort of communal kitchen in one of the rooms.

Rina was still at school when I arrived, so I talked (through Sunita) to the parents a bit about her.  They told me that she is extremely well behaved and enjoys her studies.  She has a few friends at school and when she isn't studying or helping out in the house, she plays with her friends.  The basic stuff.  She's a normal kid.  When she arrived, we talked for a bit.  It was hard, though.  Rina was quite shy, probably because all of the people who lived in their building were hovering around at the window and the door to the room.  I'm also a rather shy and quiet person, in case you weren't aware, so conversation was short and awkward.  Sunita kept trying to get me to say something more or ask more questions, but I just didn't know what else to say.  Nor did Rina, really.  She did recite some Bengali poetry for me, which was beautiful, and we worked through the English alphabet for a little while.

After visiting the home, we all went back to the CI headquarters for lunch.  This, for me, was the most awkward part.  My lunch, as well as Sunita's, were served on nice plates but the family was served on the standard metal dishes found all over India.  We also got significantly more food than the family.  I just didn't feel right about all the pomp and circumstance.  I have been to a couple of friends' families' homes in Kolkata and I understand that they like to treat guests with the best of everything they have, but I just didn't feel like this was the proper place for it.  I thought the point of doing these visits was to allow the sponsor and child to connect on the same level, not to show the sponsor off as some important, wealthy Westerner.  I, personally, would have preferred to have been treated as another human being, not someone of great importance.  But this is India, after all.  What to do?

After lunch, we headed back and had a much quicker drive.  I talked to Sunita a bit about her own family and we talked about the holiday season.  I also ended up taking an unexpected nap.  I didn't even realize I was falling asleep until I woke up.  We got back to Sudder St. around 4 pm and parted ways.

Let me tell you, though, why I've been thinking about this so much.  I started out in Kolkata volunteering with Mother Theresa's Missionaries of Charity.  Mother Theresa spent her life as a nun doing her best to help those most in need, the poorest of the poor, the seemingly unloved of Kolkata.  I work with mentally and physically disabled children who have been abandoned by their parents because of inability to care for the child or because of superstition around the cause of the child's disability.  Some of these kids may one day get a chance at a somewhat normal life.  Many of them will spend their rest of their lives rotating through Mama T's homes. 

Rina has a mother and father and sister who all love her.  She has a roof over her head.  She was going to school before I started to sponsor her and probably would continue to with or without me.  Her family is definitely impoverished, but they still lead a relatively good life in comparison to many thousands of people in India.  I just don't feel like she really needs me all that much, at least in comparison to so many other people.  I feel like there are better things my money could be spent on.  Jenn brought up the point that there are different levels of need and that this family does still need help, but I just don't think that I'm the person to offer that help.  My heart is dedicated to people, specifically children, who are in need not of financial support, but in need of love.  So (and this is also somewhat selfish as well) I feel like saving my money to go back to Kolkata and to Shishu is a much better thing to be doing.  That said, I'm going to continue my sponsorship of Rina for now because I believe at this moment that I can save enough money for my next planned trip and still give her some of it.  However, if it comes to choosing between Rina and spending the amount of time in Kolkata that I'm hoping to be able to afford, I will choose saving money for that trip.

Wow.  That took quite a while to type out.  I'll think I'll leave this post at that for now.  More stories to come.

Beautiful Life

This is my blog promise that I will take time when I return to Seattle to finish telling the stories I have to tell. At the moment, I'm too busy saying goodbye to Kolkata and daydreaming about "missing" my flight and "losing" my passport and spending the rest of my life "working" at a bangle shop.

Sala, too much raining. It's no good for my business.

I was talking to an Indian lady friend of mine the other day about the rain. She told me that there has been less rain than usual this year and that the farmers are suffering. Well, hopefully today will help. It's my first experience of knee deep water while walking through parts of Kolkata and I'm crazy so I love it. It's absolutely beautiful. When it first started to get bad, a friend of mine and I were walking around and we stopped in a storefront to wait for it to slow up a bit. It was like watching waves wash ashore at the ocean every time a car drove by. People were walking around with brightly colored umbrellas, still getting soaking wet. Men had their pants rolled up and young girls were wearing skirts. Women were few and far between (not that that's unusual), but the ones who were out were wearing their brightly colored saris and holding them up above their knees. It was quite a scene. My only worry is that my room is flooded. I haven't yet gone to check andit's a definite possibility as I'm on the bottom floor. Ah well, what to do? So my empty water bottles and a few pieces of newspaper will be floating about on the floor. I'll survive.
I am now the mother of four chidren. You all know about Kajol, but one of the masis has officially declared me also Roneshma, Deepama, and Meetama. The other day, she asked if I was married. I told her no, and she told me that I need to find a husband and adopt Ronesh, Deepa and Meeta. That, of course, hurt me just a little because I would absolutely love to do exactly that. I would love to take my three babies home with me. I just don't think that's going to be possible for a long while. It is nice to know that the masis recognize how much I love these children, though. It's going to be hard to leave them.
It's going to be especially hard to leave Ronesh, I think. I love Deepa a lot, but she is a big girl and has been through this whole auntie coming, spending a lot of time with her and leaving a day or week or month later. Ronesh is new to Shishu Bhavan and hasn't had much experience with the way the volunteers come and go. He is also really still a baby. He needs attention. When you hold him for a long while and then put him down, he cries and cries and cries. He hasn't even quite gotten used to the volunteers coming only for a few hours two times a day, either. He doesn't llike when we leave and again cries and cries.
I often feel bad for coddling him so much. I wish I wasn't so compelled to pick him up and hold him against my shoulder when he cries. I wish I hadn't started lying him down on my stomach and patting his back when he was sick. It probably wasn't a good idea to get so attached to him and let him get attached to me. I think it's probably easier for the kids to not have only one volunteer work with them when they first arrive, so that they don't expect that volunteer to stick around.
But I just can't help myself. I fall in love so quickly.

Alright, I have a few more stories for you but it's time to head to Shishu and I think I will go despite the rain. Love you guys.