That Sitting on the Porch Swing Kind of Feeling

I love India. I love Delhi. I like Bangalore, Hyderabad, Allahabad, and Goa. After spending almost a month here last year, Ongole just doesn't sit in my heart so much--other than the people and the work here.  But this is where God has called me for right now, and I knew that. So I came.  But not without a slight concern that I was going to be immediately yearning for my move to Hyderabad. 

But things have changed in Ongole. Or I have changed.  Or both. 

The town feels bigger.  There are more restaurants and seemingly hygenic food stands.  The Ongole children's "Hello, sister! What is your name!?" (the only English they know) is much more endearing than the staring-yet-pretending-to-not-be that I get elsewhere.  I mean, if you're going to stare at me, I might as well be able to return your smile, and you might as well hold my hand and walk through the neighborhood to where I'm going. 

The men stare also, but it doesn't seem so harsh as last year.  I guess the crude tourists taught me appreciation for silent stares. Who ever thought I'd be praying tonight and thanking God for those tourists and their demoralizing comments? :)

I have my favorite fruit lady already, and my new favorite shopkeeper--who always finds the coldest water or Maaza in the fridge for me.

The children are currently being moved into more family-style apartments, so I have a nice 10-20 minute walk to each of the homes.  This means serious tan lines after three days and the chance to fully enjoy the sunshine, in a less busy part of town than before.

I love the rooftops and my time with the neighbors in the evenings. I like being able to work with children with challenging diagnoses/needs, and to know I can help.  I love being able to see how much my children have grown up--the babies into children, the girls into young ladies.  I love holding my baby "Angel" as she sleeps and wiggles her way into a cozier position.  I love dancing with Priyanka in the afternoons. I love having other Americans here to talk with, as the lack of (foreign/Westernized-thinkers) community was probably the primary reason I didn't take to Ongole so much in the first place.

I'm just happy, content, with that "sitting-on-a-porch-swing" feeling--where you just enjoy life and the person with whom you're sitting. That's just a confirmation that this is where God has called me, right now, and He's definitely here with me.  Hyderabad may or may not happen in the time that I am here on this "trip".  But, here I am, right now.  Happy, content.

Once Upon a Time in Ongole, Dobara.

Airlines continue to surprise me. First, I got to experience business class going from Addis Ababa to Germany.  Lavish.  Then, yesterday in Delhi, one of the Air India guys escorted me from the ticket counter to the crew-only security line, then took me through staff-only hallways to get to my gate, while managing my luggage.  I'm not really sure how that works with national and international security. . . . but it was great to arrive at my gate 45 seconds after going through security rather than walking through the entire airport to get to my gate!

I enjoyed a small orientation with the volunteer coordinator in Hyderabad, and then relaxed until taking the 11pm bus to Ongole with an aunty as my escort.  Most of my first thoughts went something like "What was I thinking????" as I had forgotten exactly how much I do NOT know Telugu.  My Hindi skills may be poor, but being able to understand 25-75% of conversations around you makes life a thousand times more comfortable.   I gotta get to work on learning Telugu!

 (Please note the mundane details below are so I don't have to repeat the story to every one of my family members.  Feel free to skip parts!)

Following a morning of thrills to no longer be living out of suitcases, I hung out with some of the other volunteers and went to see one of the new apartment buildings SCH recently acquired.  Some of my babies were there, but "Baby C" (SCH blog name Chelsea) from last year has grown SOOOO much.  She was sleeping, so I let her be, but I can't wait to play with her and see where her motor skills are this year.  "Aloe" also had grown up a bit more, and we played for awhile.

I also saw the neighbor aunty and uncle whom I became friends with last year, and they say I have changed so much, and that they are very glad to have me back here.  I have a feeling we'll be having many dinners and nights on the roof together!

Then came grocery shopping and eating peanut butter for lunch because I was just too lazy to think about cooking.  And then.....

"Angel" (formerly "R") is a stinker, a precious, adorable, stinker.

And, I know she didn't remember me since she was 2 last year, BUT it took her a whole 5 seconds to realize I was really fun :)  I'm now "Sister!" instead of "Maaaa" though. 

This is Priyanka, my little Bollywood dancing queen :)

...I went to the schoolgirls' home.  Only the younger kids were there, as the older ones have longer school days.  I saw Priyanka first and her face lit into an enormous smile. I asked her if she remembered me, and she nodded "YES!"  (She is the daughter of one of the ayahs, and has some disabilities of her own, but is PRECIOUS!)  We hugged and smiled, she babbled away, and it was perfect.

Angel was avoiding naptime, which is what all the other girls were supposed to be doing, and I gave her the okay to get up and come hug me.  After a thousand hugs, kisses, tickle wars, and rounds of being tossed into the air, we came out of our own little world and I met all the other nurses and ayahs.  I didn't really care though, and so don't remember any of their names--I just wanted to play with my baby girl!  I didn't cry, but came close to it, and I'm quite sure I had the largest smile I have ever had. Ever.  Bigger than when-seeing-the-Taj-Mahal-for-the-first-time big.

Priyanka's mom and I got to talk some, and I'm so glad they are still here! The 2 girls and I played hide-and-seek, played with my camera, counted my rupee coins, and made silly faces at each other.  It was perfect. 
Priyanka is still a total sweetheart and Angel is still her ornery self.  But she's lost her baby looks and is running instead of just taking her first steps.  She tried to help out with mopping the laundry bucket water and gave me little slaps when I didn't pay enough attention to her.  Not that I'm okay with the slapping--but I was so happy, I honestly didn't care.

After a couple hours of playing with those two, I was exhausted and came home and took a 3 hour nap. So much for seeing all the other kids, but I guess I have plenty of time to catch up!

I've scouted out a couple of the kids who will be first on my OT list, so that will begin tomorrow! Can't wait, can't wait, can't wait! :)

On trains (Written on 8-22)

(Written a few days back)
"MOOOOM!!!!  She's looking at me again!"
I remember a few of these moments on our multiple 7 hours drives to/from Missouri when we lived in Indiana.  We would, of course, be reassured that someone looking at us was not really an issue and be told to look the other way (or to stick our noses to the windows, if Mom was really close to the end of her rope.)
Well, today I am taking the train back from Allahabad to Delhi, and the man in the next compartment, diagonal and facing me, keeps looking at me.  I'm not sure exactly how much, but any time I happen to look straight ahead or left, he was looking at me.  So, make that 60-70% of the first 5 hours of the train ride.  Then, I moved to the windowseat so the policeman I was sitting next to could play cards with some of our new friends.  God bless window seats.

Speaking of being at the window, train rides officially make me love India more.  I love watching cranes hang out on water buffalo, in fields where everything is green, excluding the brightly colored sari and brown skin of some villager.  I love watching the mud and hay huts and the people on the paths barely wide enough for motorcyclists that go alongside the train tracks.  I love watching Indians run at the train stations as they catch their coaches.  I assumed that was just something in the movies, but no, women do hike up their saris a whole inch and slowly jog, stretching out their arms so that the man inside the train car can help pull them up the steps.  (I had to do a double take the first 5 times to make sure it was really happening.)  Most of all though, I love it when our train stops in the middle of nowhere for 30 minutes or more, and now I watch a kid (whom I can't see) fly a kite.  The kite swoops and then balances out, dancing in the sky.  I think Americans have missed the fun of kite flying.  I mean, I had a Barbie plastic kite once, but I used it maybe twice?   The simple, tissue paper-thin kites here though:  they're just beautiful. And it's extremely peace-invoking to watch them.  I should also say in front of my view of the dancing kite are electrical wires with a wooden cross and string, reminiscent of its former days of a dancing kit.

The OT board exam in Allahabad went well, and I enjoyed the more traditional ways of the city.  Like, how people still greet each other with folded hands and "Namaskar."   The cyclerickshaws are decorated with gold fringe and are painted/dyed in colorful designs.  I walked around the city for 2-3 hours, had a lovely lunch, rewarded my completion of the test with a yummy chocolate doughnut, and then felt like collapsing on my bed in exhaustion.  So, goodbye, traveler-me, and hello post-exam, lazy, Bollywood and Julia-Roberts-watching me.

Naturally, because I was ready to go to bed at 7, there had to be a party in the hotel in the huge banquet hall.  Naturally, this room was next to mine.  I considered joining in on the dancing and cake, but refrained and just enjoyed the sight from the courtyard while being a total creeper.

The Indian people continue to impress me immensely.  Right now, I'm sitting with 12 college guys on the lower berths of our train compartment. (Note the compartments are only built for 6.)  But, they're all friends, so we make room.  When purchasing chai and chips from the people who walk by saying "chhhhai. Shaiii. chhhaaiii" in the world's deepest, most humorous voices, they always buy one for me, too.  They offer me the homeade snacks their moms packed (but don't worry, I don't accept--until 15 minutes away from Delhi, when I had some dried, cubed, yak cheese. I don't recommend ever having this rock-solid substance).  And they make sure I have one of the best seats.  They play guitar and poker, sleep, and apparently attempt to pick the locks on their luggage, as they can't find the keys. 
On the way to Allahabad, a guy in his mid-late 20's started talking to me, but even with my story of a husband and a baby at home waiting for me, he remained friendly.  When we arrived, he directed me where in the station was best for staying dry in the downpour, then paid my cyclerickshaw-wallah after giving directions to my hotel with instructions to manage my luggage for me. And, then he gave me his number "in case I needed anything."  Sweetness, hospitality, and genuine-ness at its best.

I feel quite at peace with my test being over, and I'm ready to go to Ongole, where I intend to love on brown-eyed babies for a long time :)  I'm counting down the days!

McLeod Ganj

Hello everyone,
I am guessing I will get emails asking to tell about my weekend once Mom wakes up and sees all the pictures on facebook, so I figured I would try to beat her to it!  Thursday through this morning, we went to McLeod Ganj, which is like 12-ish hours away by bus.  For all you Americans who have never heard of McLeod, it's a town in Himachal Pradesh, India, that people refer to as "mini Tibet" because it's where the Dalai Lama and multiple Tibetan Buddhists live. And it's on the edge of the Himalayas, if that helps you picture where/what it is.
The area itself was beautiful as almost every building has a scenic view, and I loved walking around the little town through the shops set up on the street.  But then it was Eid, and most everyone in India had a long weekend, leading to many tourists and many, many groups of guys coming to the area for religious experiences, fun, and booze.  Which means a thousand times more "Heyy Babyy"s, "Haellooo"s, and "How are yooouuu?"s than ever before.  I learnt very quickly that I will no longer be traveling to tourist spots on Indian holidays! 


It's still monsoon season, and we went to a lake where we couldn't see anything from the fog, so that wasn't exactly memorable, but thankfully, that was really the only time it rained much while we were there.  We got to trek to the waterfall and play in the brook/on the boulders downstream.  It was a type of gorgeousness and peacefulness that I cannot describe, and my pictures don't do it justice.  I constantly just stopped and stared and smiled because of God's beauty. Also, monsoon season in the mountains is COLD.  I don't really do cold anywhere, so I was quite happy for my rain jacket in the day and my fat blanket rolled around me at night!

The Dalai Lama wasn't in town this weekend, but we visited the monastery. I used to be able to look at temples and idols and stuff objectively, as artwork and history.  But after last year's events and God's giving me "new eyes" (so to speak,) I cannot see objectively when they are in religious settings.  If it is in a museum, great, I can value and admire the intricacy and detailwork.  But in temples, all I see is symbolism. Be it the eyes or fingers on the statues, the flames on the candles in the shrines, the unlit candles, the fog surrounding the monastery area--anything and everything reminds me of God's word. And let's just say it's not all happy-go-lucky...

Moving on:  I underestimated/overestimated Tibetan Buddhist monks.  Yes, they are very religious. But I wasn't expecting them to be eating out all the time or driving cars twice as nice as my old one.  I wasn't expecting to see 8 year old monks buying toys from a toyshop.   I guess I was just thinking that for living in a strict, religious environment and being of a culture who values and honors denial of self and self-immolation, sedans and Spiderman gloves wouldn't really be a part of the picture.  But, that Ozarkian stereotype got broken quickly.  (Although it still kind of boggles my mind).

Other than that and eating at various places, we didn't really do much other than just hang out, relax, and walk around. Since we weren't doing that much, I wish I had counted how many times I heard "Ek photo, madam? Just one snap?" or how many times I covered my face after realizing someone's camera phone was pointed at me.  Last year, almost everyone who asked for a picture was respectful and polite, and I'd often accept, while discreetly placing my hand over the opening of my purse and ensuring that no one tried to put his arm around me. These people and groups of guys were just ridiculous & crude, and I felt quite...degraded...by the time Saturday night rolled around. I don't really like talking about all the unhappy stuff because I don't think you enjoy reading the unhappy stuff, but I tell you it this because of two things that happened near the end of our trip:

1. Saturday evening, we were walking back to our guesthouse from dinner. One guy came out of a doorway and while passing me, made kissing sounds, and I turned around and gave him the death stare I learned so well from my Mom and sister.  Probably less than a minute later, I felt a hand grip my left shoulder, and I flung around ready to slaughter the man who dared to touch me.  But, then I saw Barkha's smirking face as she begins laughing hysterically.  I don't know if I was more relieved because it was her and not some creep or because I did not break her jaw and nose like I was prepared to.  Either way, I learned my reflexes are pretty good, and she learned never to do that again or she will get pummeled :)

2. When we were ready to leave McLeod, waiting for our bus at the station, a couple families stood beside us.  I smiled at the sleeping child a woman is holding, and then a few minutes later she came up and shyly asked for a photo.  "Just one snap?" I say, "Of course," and then my friends get to see what normally happens when I'm in India without my Indian friends around me.  So, after 4 or 5 pictures with random family members, the woman passes the baby to someone else so she can take a picture with me.  She thanks me, then goes to get her baby--for what I assume will be to hold her sleeping child again.  And then she dumps the kid in my arms while I'm standing there completely astounded yet laughing hysterically.  Also, the kid starts crying immediately, but I manage to hush him/her and smile for the picture, before handing him/her back.  I understand the attention a little more when I'm wearing saris, as most tourists won't.  But that day I was wearing jeans and a tunic my mom made...  Sometimes, I have no idea what people are thinking.  :)

The Weekend Update (Without Seth Meyers)

Some blog posts have well thought out clever introductions or openings long before I sit down to type them out. Others, like this one, do not.

I had my first cup of masala chai this morning. Actually, it was a mug, and it was mostly full, so basically, I had my first 3-4 cups of chai this morning.  And, since I'm staying at home to study (to commence after I publish this post), I decided to wear a sari. This may make no sense, but it is a whole lot easier to hike up a sari skirt to feel the cool breeze of a fan than it is to work around skin tight leggings. If you didn't gather from that information, it is HOT here. I still love it, but when I get out of the swimming pool at 9:30 pm and start burning up immediately, I could go sit in the fridge for a few minutes.

I'm so happy to be back, but it's very different from last year. Part of that is because I do not have my friend who was here last year here doting on me all the time and taking me wherever I did or didn't want to go.  Part of it is feeling a bit like my independence and convenience are taken away, as I am staying in a suburb of Delhi rather than right in the middle of it, and as with all of Delhi's fun little news stories, walking around alone wherever I want is not my safest or smartest option of activities to do each day.  Part of everything feeling different is living with a family who (other than my friend) is Hindu.  Part of it is having to study and having the teensiest pressure of "If I don't pass this $540, life changing, board exam I am wasting an extraordinary amount of money and will then have to go through the torture all over again."  And part of it is just being aware that I am here in India for several months, and that this isn't a vacation or short term trip, this is my life now.  To clarify, I do want my life to be here and I do love it, but sometimes things take awhile to sink in.

I hope I don't sound like I'm complaining--I just want you to get the idea that things are good, but different.

Last week I got to skype with the volunteer coordinator and received more information about volunteer guidelines and all that for when I go to Andhra Pradesh.  Some things--like being told I cannot stay with a family or group of Indian girls apart from the organization (which I had planned for cheaper rent as well as to better acclimate myself to the language, people, and local culture) and that for the first 2 months I basically cannot go anywhere alone--were quite frustrating.  I mean, I will have traveled to and around 5 Indian cities entirely on my own--and another few with friends or staff members.  Not to mention my solo journeys last summer all over Europe!  So, I fumed for a couple hours about how my independence and personal life were disintegrating into nothingness, how I am going to lose money more quickly now that I cannot save so much on rent, etc.
But then I cooled off and realized that my only reasons for disliking these "rules" were just because I had other wants and desires.  I don't want my independence taken away.  I still want control over my personal life and free time (though I know it will be little) and living situation. I want to spend and save money as I see fit, not as how someone else thinks it should be.   I might have had more well thought out reasoning, but really, I just sounded like the girls I just nannied for--wanting or "NEEDING" a certain LEGO object for their already extravagant LEGO home.  I was acting no better than a 6 year old.  And, whereas I don't like all of the rules, I know they are there for a reason and that they will not last forever.   In Bekah's loving but honest words "It may be good to have a little lesson of submission."   And, so it shall be.

We haven't done too much other than hang out, eat Barkha's mom's delicious food, and piddle around.
I've been shopping a couple times and still love it, but it's not as fun when I'm on such a strict budget. Nevertheless, I guess my bargaining is as good as ever, and maybe I am semi-Indian as I still always want a cheaper price.  I got to see Reedima, one of my Hindi teachers from last year, so that was really good to see her.  And, possibly my favorite thing, I got to watch the hilarious process of crowds of Indians attempting to use revolving doors.  If I were not with friends, I probably could have sat on the curb and watched that for about 45 minutes :) 

This coming weekend Barkha, another friend, and I are going to McLeod Ganj, which I have been told is "mini Tibet" and where the Dalai Lama hangs out and all that.  So, that's pretty exciting, and my camera is very much looking forward to it.

Side note:  Anyone who has 3.5 hours of free time needs to see Bhaag Milkha Bhaag whenever it comes out on Netflix. Not only is it done phenomenally videography-wise, but the actor isn't so bad looking himself, and the story was good from what I could understand without the presence of English subtitles.