true life planet

I’m a bad blogger..bad! It’s been two weeks since my last entry.

I’ll try to cover everything this time in a single one. let’s hope I do a decent job of explaining how everthing here at this moment and how I’m feeling about it all.

The last two weeks have been so busy that I literally can’t pick out any day in particular to tell you about-everything has just blended into one blob.

What’s odd is that two weeks ago I was going on and on about how lovely Christmas was here–no American greed, no shopping for gifts, no bombardmentwith red blow-up plastic Santas, Christmas light overload, Christmas carols nonstop, plastic trees, and shop til you drop.

That has all changed. It would seem India loves Christmas–and the hectic frantic pace it brings–as much as Americans. At least in Calcutta, anyway. We’ve got plastic blow up Santas, Christmas carols, busy shopping malls…

The Christmas tree in the shopping center is fabulous, made up entirely of plastic water bottles that have been cleaned and attached to a bamboo frame, then filled with plastic lights. A fabulous testament to Indian ingenuity and recycling.

We may have to try it in Winters, my tiny town back in America.

Well, I thought I would not have to shop for gifts. Wrong.

Just when I was really enjoying not shopping, the head Sister at Daya Dan asked me to do all of her Christmas shopping this year! I was handed some money, a budget, and a list. A very long list, full of strange items.

It took three days–three days!–to find it all, and that list took me all over the city.

Not only was I to buy things for the children, but I had to buy things for the Sisters themselves. Forexample, 12 matching hankerchiefs. 12 pairs of scissors of a certain length. 12 bolts of fabric. 70 childrens sweaters, 70 coloring books, shoes, etc. Everything to exact specifications.

Sound easy? It wasn’t. The Sisters have strangely specific requirements for every single item. For example, a hanky must be of a certain quality, of a certain size, of a certain color, and without design. Impossible!

The Sisters also get special food around Christmas. Speciality food, things that have to be imported. They don’t get much, just a taste. It’s the one day they have  afew luxuries, like American peanut butter for the American nun, Italian pasta for the Italian nun, and so on. But I had to buy enough for twelve nuns. And the hardest part was the bargaining.

I’ve learned to bargain but this time I had to bargain hard. So hard that it tired me out!

But I did manage to get everything on that two page list!

I have turned out to be such a good shopper that the Sisters have asked me to do their shopping again next year! Oh joy!

Well, didn’t I tell you? Yes, I am already planning on coming back here next year for Christmas. The Christmas here is so amazing..being with the kids…and doing the work we are doing. I love it, simply love it.

The Sisters also asked me to come back! So it looks like I’ll be doing all the shopping next year, too….

Other than shopping I have been very busy with the Daya Dan Big Band. That’s the name of the band of the kids from Dya Dan that have been practising for months on end numerous carols for Christmas, and we have been going out to perform almost every other day.

It’s been an interesting way to see the other Sisters and Brothers’ homes in the Calcutta area..we’ve been to most of the homes for sick, mentally ill, dyingpeople; as well as orpahanages and so on. The breadth of work being done by these women and men is astonishing, and the people that they are helping would not be helpied by anyone if these nuns and monks were not devoting their lives to this task.

The concerts are quite hectic, as all the children must get bathed and then dressed in special concert clothes, then have their hair done and be made up….yes, they put make up on them! This seems to be the norm in this country. The job has fallen to me, I am the “make-up girl” putting makeup–lots of it–on loads of little squirming wiggling boys, wearing white trousers and satin shirts withred sequin vests and bow ties. It’s a hilarious chaotic scene, believe me.

Then we have to get them out of Daya Dan, walk down the alley, load them onto the bus, and keep them out of trouble, keep them from vomiting, wetting their pants, htting each other, putting their hands out the window, and so on..for up to an hour or so, while we breathe in foul air and wrestle with terrible traffic.

The bus rides are adventures in themselves. Seatbelts and car seats are not used here. Volunteers simply are told to hold on to the shoulder of that child and keep that child on their lap as we lurch through traffic.

The main safety featureof these bus rides seems to be the painted “Missionaries of Charity” sign painted on the side(hopefully keeping other drivers from hitting us) and perhpas..the constant blaring horn of the driver. Apparrently a truly skilled driver will just keep his hand on the driver the entire time.

Once we get to the place we are going to perform, we have to manageto keep the children altogether and behaving until the concert starts.

When the concert finally does begin, all my attention focuses on Binoy, who is a fantastic drummer, but only if I am sitting there beside him. As far as I am concerned, it’s just Binoy and me for the next 40 minutes.

What’s amzing is that when I look up and see the audience, see the tears in their eyes, see the kid’s enormous effort…it’s really beautiful.

It’s what Christmas is all about for me, that one shining moment.

After the concert, kids are carted off to be fed ChowMein or something else that is delicious, and the volunteers get a short break.

Or rather, we are supposed to. But Joy(the little autistic boy I have mentioned before) has taken a liking to me and refuses to be parted from me at any time before of after the concert. This includes during Chow Mein time.

After we eat, we load them all up on the bus again. Joy has to sit next to me or he gets very upset.

He also gets upset if he can’t get off the bus right away when he finally gets home to Daya Dan.

The other day, he had to wait to get off, and in his worry and stress, he bit me. On the face. he bites when he is upset, and I suppose my face was the nearest thing to him at the time.

Needless to say, I had to spend the night with the Sisters, for I needed to ice it all night long. I am happy to say that it is recovering nicely, thankyou.

Everyday here is one colorful adventure after another. Face biting included.

For Christmas Eve, I am very excited to go to Midnight Mass at Motherhouse, where Mother Theresa’s tomb is. That will be the experience of a lifetime. Then on Christmas day, we have planned a very nice day with the children, including watching Finding Nemo in Hindi and generally spoiling them a little bit.

Christmas night, a group of the volunteers are coming over to my rooms. I’ve bought a tiny tinsel tree and some candles and will ask everyone to light a candle, eat some food, and package up some food for street children, too. Then we’ll go out and see and American movie.

Being here..it’s been an amzing experience. Not only do I adore India, but I have discovered that I am actually great with children! Especially difficult and special needs kids. Who would have known?

There is nothing quite like showing up for work, opening the door to the orphanage, and being hugged, called out to, and generally loved like the way I am with this group of kids.

This makes up for the difficulty I seem to always face here in other areas–right now, I am dealing with a bad case of bronchitis. If it isn’t one thing, it’s another.

Oh well.

Wishing you all a Merry Christmas.

gigi

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