I took the bus from Hyderabad in the daytime, in order to avoid creepy men who like to play with "blonde" curls on the overnight buses, and also to relish the heat. I got to Ongole, bargained over the auto, and expertly made no cultural blunders while checking into the non a/c room at Hotel Ramya. And then I danced through the begging children outside the hotel, silently and sternly declining to give them money, as I jumped in an auto and said "Mangamoor Road and Bypass." When we have almost reached the bypass, I motion for the auto to stop; relishing the heat and overly generous sun, I weave through autos, motorcycles, and ornately decorated trucks in the street to get to the other side. I get 1 liter of water from the sometimes-cold refrigerator at the shop on the corner, then walk down the street I remember so well. On the left is the most beautiful, old, picturesque winding staircase, and there is the door with "Om" painted on it. There is the dirt/trash/cricket field, and there is the leathery old woman sitting just inside of her open gate, who seems to glare at me no matter how many smiles I give. And, aha! her water buffalo did not surprise me this time. I almost want to hug the water buffalo so tightly because it means I am almost there...
There is the 4 story apartment. This is where the schoolgirls live, where I taught a girl who is blind how to type, where I am called "Sister!" 200-500 times per hour, where I wear flowers in my braid. This is where I snuck up on the roof and lifted my sari to bare my knees to the sun and wind when the power outage seemed a bit too long. And this is where my babies live. My Angel, my Gabe, my Chelsea...they don't remember me, but I love them with everything.
The OT in me cannot help but quickly analyze how big they have gotten, and what developmental milestones they have met. Tears form in my eyes and I don't care that they are children and do not want to be smothered with my hugs--I will smother them anyways. And my smile, it is huge. It's a smile that is only seen here, where I get to play "Ma," albeit temporarily, to my babies.
I have had this dream every night this week. My heart, and apparently, my subconscious mind, cannot wait to be there, back in my India.
For those who don't know, I will spend July in Ethiopia, as a "mission-nanny" for a beautiful family with 3 daughters. We will play and work in Korah, which you should Google, doing our best to bless the locals and a lot more that I am sure Stacy has up her sleeve. I am excited for this and know it will be an amazing time, where my eyes will be opened to more of the world and more of God.
Yet, it is nothing compared to knowing I will get to hold my Ongole babies in August.
I know parts of the dream I described above will not hold true--like how the babies will not actually be babies anymore, and the apartment where they live might have changed. But the essence of the dream and excitement remains, and I cannot wait.
True, God-ordained love is when the thought of picking lice out of your hair becomes ridiculously exciting because it means you'll be loving on beautiful babies and children. Only 6 months to go. :)
There is the 4 story apartment. This is where the schoolgirls live, where I taught a girl who is blind how to type, where I am called "Sister!" 200-500 times per hour, where I wear flowers in my braid. This is where I snuck up on the roof and lifted my sari to bare my knees to the sun and wind when the power outage seemed a bit too long. And this is where my babies live. My Angel, my Gabe, my Chelsea...they don't remember me, but I love them with everything.
The OT in me cannot help but quickly analyze how big they have gotten, and what developmental milestones they have met. Tears form in my eyes and I don't care that they are children and do not want to be smothered with my hugs--I will smother them anyways. And my smile, it is huge. It's a smile that is only seen here, where I get to play "Ma," albeit temporarily, to my babies.
I have had this dream every night this week. My heart, and apparently, my subconscious mind, cannot wait to be there, back in my India.
For those who don't know, I will spend July in Ethiopia, as a "mission-nanny" for a beautiful family with 3 daughters. We will play and work in Korah, which you should Google, doing our best to bless the locals and a lot more that I am sure Stacy has up her sleeve. I am excited for this and know it will be an amazing time, where my eyes will be opened to more of the world and more of God.
Yet, it is nothing compared to knowing I will get to hold my Ongole babies in August.
I know parts of the dream I described above will not hold true--like how the babies will not actually be babies anymore, and the apartment where they live might have changed. But the essence of the dream and excitement remains, and I cannot wait.
True, God-ordained love is when the thought of picking lice out of your hair becomes ridiculously exciting because it means you'll be loving on beautiful babies and children. Only 6 months to go. :)
