I'm Getting Married?

On the eve of my departure I was called into the office to speak with George and Jyothi. As I walked in and they asked me to close the door, I felt a slight panic, a flashback to that feeling of being sent to the Principal's office. I swallowed hard and took a seat.

George opened with, 'So, do you still want to marry an Indian?' My heart sank. I quickly tried to explain that I never said I wanted to marry an Indian, but rather mentioned in a past conversation that race doesn't matter to me, as long as I'm in love. He took that to mean that I'm shopping for an Indian husband, and he's got the perfect one in mind (so he thinks): his nephew Benny. Benny is a great catch, don't get me wrong, but I hardly know the guy and I'm sorry but that's just not how my system operates. I was caught completely off guard and left nearly speechless, giggling nervously because I honestly didn't know how to respond as George and Jyothi basically proposed to me for their nephew, explaining that the wedding could take place in as soon as the next few months. I tried to keep my eyes from bugging out of my head. I didn't want to offend anyone, and I didn't have a chance to think of a good way to say no, so somewhere along the line I agreed to pray about it, allow them to talk it over with Benny and give him my contact information. I don't know, maybe I blacked out under pressure?

I am the last person that would agree to an arranged marriage. Not that it's exactly arranged, just strongly pressured, and with the best intentions. After sleeping on it and speaking to my parents about the matter, I have realized that I should take this as a compliment. I really am flattered that George and Jyothi love me that much that they desire to have me in their family, one that I would be honored to be a part of, just not quite like this.

In review, I can say that I have adapted pretty smoothly to the major differences in lifestyle here, but this is one that I just can't flow with. I don't want to hurt any one's feelings, especially George who tends to take these sort of things personally, but I also can't throw my future out the window to please someone else.

I'm not sure how I'm going to get out of this one.

Pet Update:

I am sad to announce, the pet parrot did not last long. He escaped his little pink house and was swiftly apprehended by Boscar (Boxer), New Hope's resident dog. R.I.P. little friend.

George the Baptist continued....

Some additional baptism photos....

The plunge

Getting saree'd and bejeweled in the shed

Prayer in the church

George the Baptist

My time in India has been so spiritually strengthening; I never could have predicted how all of these experiences would affect every aspect of my life and change it so quickly. People come to India all the time in search of spirituality, to attain enlightenment, to find religion. I never could have foreseen how much I would grow in one that I already called my own.

As I prepare to leave here and everything I have known as home and family for the better part of this year, I decided it was time to officiate my dedication. Yesterday I seized the opportunity to be baptised during a youth retreat at Bangalore Telugu Baptist Church by [Pastor] George, who has been my mentor, teacher, and (sometimes irritating) parental figure these last four months. I was honored to be able to state my commitment to my faith in the place where I really learned about it and embraced it, surrounded by the people who taught me how to use it.

As I waded into the tank filled with murky water and dead bugs (I thought for sure it was a well), I looked up and saw myself surrounded by supportive faces -- some I knew, many I did not -- who were so happy to have me there, joining them in spirit and extending my life through this commitment. As they sang loudly, in a language in which I can still only make out a few words, I felt their love surround me, especially that of the Fernandes', Uncle Ben, Sabita, and my 'sister' Nina, who have become my surrogate family.

After the baptism (also baptised were a husband and wife, new members of George's church) I was ushered into a shed with several women and girls, stripped and dressed in my saree, covered in bangles and gold jewelry, and sent back into the church to be prayed for at the altar. This morning we attended George's church to receive my Holy Communion as a freshly baptised girl. Nina and I spoke a few words of goodbye to his congregation and his family as it will be the last time we see them (for now....)

Nina and I with George and Jyothi

Our days are turning into moments. We leave New Hope tomorrow and say our goodbyes as the kids head off for their first day of school. It is something I have been dreading; leaving these children is going to be heart wrenching. From here we will make a long drive with George and his friend up to Bhadrachalam to inaugurate his newest children's home, a thatched-roof hut in a tribal area. A few days later we will have to say our farewells to George before we head off on our own.

As we begin to pack our things, Nina and I question whether we should go at all. How many times will we cry before we walk out the door? The kids have begun to dread the goodbyes too, walking around with long faces and asking us not to go. Nakshathra has had a particularly rough week. We have had her since the beginning, and she has become very special to us. She is the only girl with no parents, and stayed with us alone through the summer vacation while everyone else went home. Her heart is broken and fragile and I worry about leaving her feeling abandoned. Just this afternoon while Nina and I packed listening to Brett Dennen's latest album (the album that we all danced and sang to religiously for the past few months), Nakshathra walked in to see us and as soon as she heard the music she began to cry.

Tonight is our final dinner with all of the children at New Hope. There is no easy way to say goodbye to those you love, and this is going to be my hardest one yet.

Nithin and His Many Naps

As my days at New Hope are growing shorter, I thought I'd pay tribute to one of my best little buddies here. I have written at length about Nithin, the runt of the bunch, the cry baby, the one that needs a little extra love. We have gotten really close and it is going to be especially hard to say goodbye to this short stack. He's a humorous little guy; he can make anyone laugh, and he melts my heart with his adoring smile and plentiful kisses. There is one thing to remember about Nithin -- he needs his rest. Beware if he doesn't get it, but most likely he will find a way, whenever and wherever the mood strikes. So here's to you Nithin, you and your many naps.

Sponsorship Update

We have updated our Picasa Web album to include the five newest children living here at New Hope. Please click on the link titled 'Children and Their Stories' in the right hand margin of this blog for photos and information on our children and links on how to become a sponsor. Thanks!

(New Additions: Dharmesh, Kashava H.R., Mercy, Asenla, and Atola.)

Captivity

It was slightly upsetting to learn that one of our boys ran away last night. Bendang Uncle didn't sound too worried as he informed us of missing Big Surya (16, not to be confused with Little Surya, 9) because this wasn't the first, and probably won't be the last time that it has happened. He had been saving his rupees one by one till he had enough to hop on a bus into the city to find his grandmother. She doesn't have a proper home and cannot care for Surya, but I guess I don't blame him for wanting to escape every once in a while. This place is wonderful, don't get me wrong, but I can imagine that every kid here sometimes just wants out, to go live a normal life with a normal family. His grandmother was contacted as soon as he went MIA, and she returned him to New Hope this afternoon, though he didn't look happy about it. Surya is a good boy, he is sweet and responsible and takes care of little Nithin now that he lives with the boys upstairs. Hopefully he won't jump ship again any time soon, and we're glad to have him back.

In other news, New Hope has two new additions -- a baby mouse that gets carried around all day like Stewart Little and a green parrot. Who knows where the parrot came from or how they caught him, but the he's staying in a nice little pink house that is far too small for him. (I don't know where that came from either.)

Snakes in a Well

This past week I narrowly escaped the scabies attack (thank God) -- which we treated and it subsided -- but we began to wonder if something fishy was going on when the itching soon returned leaving the girls in tears, coated in baby powder, or frantically tearing off their clothes and scratching uncontrollably. Yesterday Bendang Uncle mentioned that he thought it might be due to our water supply. I've written previously about our small well and how we often run out of water, but our issues have grown a bit more....slimy. Our well is not only small but poorly positioned and has no ledge to keep dirt and grime from falling in. Before calling the 'water man' (a guy on a speeding tractor towing a water tank) some of the boys climbed inside to clean and ended up hauling out a bucket of snakes, some snails, and a frog. There are also some mysterious caterpillars hanging around that have caused allergic reactions and it is entirely possible that they have fallen in the well too. Not only have we been bathing in this water, we've been brushing our teeth with it. (In the beginning I used bottled, but my body has grown accustomed to the water so I've been using tap for everything but drinking for months now.) Our drinking water is just a filtered version of our well water, so even though it is run through our new 'purifier' it is still not the cleanest. If the water is the problem, seeing as we are running it in, over, and through our entire bodies it's no wonder everyone is feeling a bit out of whack.

Even with my immune system of steel, I can't help but feel I've got the phantom itches when I'm surrounded by all my scratching counterparts. If this is what's making everyone crazy, how do we fix it? What do you do when you are allergic to the water?

The Longest Goodbye

It's been almost four days since Dovey left and sometimes it's hard to believe she was even here at all. Her stay in India was a whirlwind and those 10 days flew by incredibly fast. On her last night we were invited to a program put on by all the kids. Stanish was the MC, the kids sang and danced and we were once again presented with garland leis from the three youngest. Dovey was given a beautiful framed drawing by Stanish and we were thanked by George and the wardens for all we have done. (He said that the program was a goodbye for the three of us because they couldn't bear to do it again when Nina and I left.) But the most touching moment of the night came from a heartfelt speech made by 16 year old Ganesh.

Siblings Nakshathra (10) and Ganesh (16)

Ganesh is the sweetest teenager I have ever met. He is Nakshathra's big brother and is so caring and loving towards her it melts my heart. He stood up in front of everyone and gave a tearful and shaky reflection (in Kannada translated by George):

'I thank God for this time. I thank God for this precious time.....I thought that I lost everyone and didn't have any relationships in my life. I was all alone. I thank God that God has given me such a wonderful children's home. After coming to this children's home, I got a good father, mother, brothers and sisters. I thank Papa and Mama [George and Jyothi] for giving me a good education. After coming here, I never felt a lack of anything. I thank Diane Aunty for coming in our midst. The three of you [Dovey, Nina, and I] helped us a lot. I thank you for all that you have given. I thank God that you not only came here, you also prayed with us and you ate with us and you played with us. I thank God for this time.'

It was both heart wrenching and touching to watch, especially as Nakshathra began to weep in the front row as she listened to her brother speak. The two have been through so much together and because of George and his family, they now have a home and a family of their own. After the program I sought out Ganesh and gave him a big hug and thanked him for his words. He just held my hand and asked 'When will you be back Aunty?' Others begged 'Please don't go Aunty,' and it was all I could do to not lose my composure.

This is going to be the hardest goodbye I have ever had to make. It certainly is the longest; it seems that we've been preparing and good-bye-ing for the last few weeks. I have learned not to bring it up around Nakshathra because she ends up in tears at the very mention of our departure. She is going to be especially hard to say good-bye to. We have been with her pretty consistently from the get-go and she has become very close to our hearts. She reminds me a little bit of myself, quiet at first, then super silly and rambunctious, but ultimately pretty fragile. I wish I could take her and her brother home with me, though I think I could say that for all of these kids. We have one week left at New Hope and it's going to fly by. Pretty soon it will be hard to believe I was here at all. I have a while yet before I return home to the US, but leaving here is going to feel a lot like leaving home. Because that's really what this place has become.

Little Village, Big Picture

Several years ago, George (creator and director of HHI) came to know of aid needed in the village of Mantralayam and decided to start a children's home here. They began in a small structure near the rail station and regularly scoured the tracks for abandoned children. Mantralayam is a place where idol worship is widely practiced and a famous temple in the town is known for its high prostitution rates. Many times when prostitutes become pregnant, they will leave their unwanted newborn babies on the railroad tracks to dispose of them. After a terrible flood in 2008, the children of the home were displaced and went missing for a short time. George was devastated and from Mantralayam took a train to a nearby city called Raichur in search of them. He recognized a small boy playing in the street as one of his children who was then able to lead him to the rest. Amazingly, not a single child was killed in the disaster, but in the chaos of escaping the floodwaters, 2 children went missing and sadly are still unaccounted for to this day.

Pastor Yohan and the children of the Mantralayam home

In the months leading up to now, George has faced severe opposition to his projects in Mantralayam because he is a Christian. Many of the local people have been hostile, flooding roads among other things in attempt to keep him out. Just last year he arrived moments after a child sacrifice took place, a family's sick attempt to secure wealth from the gods by killing their 3-year old. After almost weekly visits to the village 6 hours away, George has been able to quell the animosity towards him, and now when he arrives the villagers slowly gather to hear him speak.

At 11:30 Sunday night we headed out on a road trip bound for Mantralayam. With George behind the wheel we cruised through the countryside all night and arrived at the Sri Lakshmi Venkataramana Lodge at the wee hours of the morning. After a short rest we set out for the 20 km drive to the small village. It was a short distance but the broken roads and meandering cattle made the drive last close to an hour. As we pulled up to the village a large sign bearing our names greeted us along with the many villagers who had gathered to gawk at our fair complexions. (They seldom, if ever see a white-skinned person here.) We were received by the children dressed in their best clothes and belting out Telugu songs. They gave us the traditional Indian welcome with a heavenly scented jasmine garland lei and gift of a shawl. We spoke a few words and were shown around the premises, then fed them a lunch of rice and dhal and passed out candy.

receiving my garland and shawl from one of the orphans

Dovey giving out some candy to the village children

The boys live in the single room 'house,' and the girls stay in the pastors house which is barely larger than the other. There is a fan, but due to poor electricity it scarcely works and the soaring temperatures in Mantralayam can make the heat unbearable. The bathroom is a sort of outhouse that doesn't yet have a door and there is no running water in the community. In the center of the village there is a large water tank, but there is no distinction between drinking water and that used for everything else, so I can only imagine all the harmful bacteria that is constantly ingested through it.

Nina doling out dhal

George sitting with the kids and telling us of the backstory of the Mantralayam home

A far cry from what George has experienced in the past, the people were friendly and inviting, crowding us for handshakes and photos and after our day there, gathered to wave us off. Though it was a short visit, there has been much to digest. I thought coming to New Hope was humbling, but compared to what these children have, we might as well be staying in Daddy Warbucks' mansion. It is absolutely shocking to come to a place where people leave their helpless babies on the train tracks and still carry out child sacrifices in hopes of becoming wealthy.

Village kids

George, the pastors, the village elders, and the children

After we left the village we continued to drive far out into the country to a compound of half structures, shacks with satellite dishes, and one-room thatched roof dwellings. Here we met George's 'Church Planters' a group of pastors that come to the tiny space in the middle of what seems like nowhere to train. The dozen or so dedicated men (and one woman) come to study on Fridays and Saturdays, and even though it was a Monday, they traveled from all over to meet us. One man in particular, greeted us with a big smile and enthusiasm for our presence. He had one leg and got around on crutches, yet travelled nearly 80 km that day just to see us. I am overwhelmed by the extent of their gratitude.

George and the Planters

From the place where I stand it is hard to see the big picture. I feel like these people are making too big a deal over us and what we are doing, but they see things differently. We are their connection to the rest of the world, we are their hope for the future. As my days here are passing quickly and the end is approaching, I am beginning to realize that my work here has only just begun. My real job begins when I return to my home country and try to find ways to fight for the help these people so desperately need. The need me to pass on the word of their existence, how they struggle, and the problems they face. The responsibilities that George carries are only going to get weightier and more intricate, his heart is heavy for those in need and the number of children in his care is constantly growing. I will go back to a place with running water, more than enough food, a closet full of clothes, and a machine to wash them. My 'family' will remain here, struggling to feed the growing number of hungry mouths and transform their lives with a good education. I have learned the true meaning of struggle and need. While we're complaining about bills and responsibility, George is on his knees praying for the means to feed his 120 some odd children. They may not get all the nutrients they need or all the school uniforms required, but they are loved and they are fed and they have more faith in their pinky finger than most of us can conceive of in a lifetime. That is how they survive. From here, it is my responsibility to share their story so that they can continue to grow and support more of these grassroots people, to transform the coming generations into the future contributing citizens of India. I have a lot of work to do.

Flipping for Cricket

Its been really nice having my mom here the past few days. Not only have I really missed her, but she has helped me to see things through fresh eyes again. Sometimes it's easy to become jaded to your surroundings when you've been submerged in them for a while. It's also really fun to be able to show her what my life is like these days. I could go home and tell everyone all about it, but it's not the same as her being able to see first hand what things are like here. Right off the bat she was able to witness me lugging buckets of water from next door (we had no running water again), hold a vomiting child over the pit (true, it was my fault for bribing her with candy before breakfast) and show off my polished Indian eating skills. She nearly had a heart attack while Nina and I calmly strode through swift and chaotic traffic on the way to town, had her first 'I want to cry' moment when she saw a mouse struggling for its life on a piece of sticky paper at the grocery store, and prayed fervently while riding in the backseat as Benny maneuvered his way through several lanes of oncoming vehicles (including a man in a hand-peddle wheelchair merging influx.)

I have to say she has really impressed me. I would have thought she'd be a little more squeamish or hesitant when thrown into such severe culture shock, but she has taken it in stride pretty well. This morning we were invited to George's church where she gave a little testimony and spoke to the congregation, and tomorrow we will head to Mantralayam (in Andhra Pradesh) to the children's home that George started there. This afternoon we joined the boys upstairs to give them the cricket equipment that was gifted from the wonderful girls at Flip Flop Gymnastics (Deep River, CT). They were thrilled to say the least! They were so excited to get all the new official gear and the cheers grew louder with every bat I pulled out of the box. They were very grateful and said a prayer, thankful for the girls and their kind hearts, then flew outside to play. Thank you Flip Flop girls!

(Above photo: Dovey with the boys and their new gear)

Showing the boys their cricket sponsors back in the US

The Big Surprise

Just when I thought I might be able to do my mom a little justice with that Mother's Day post, she goes and does something like show up in India! I received the biggest surprise of my life yesterday -- my Dovey traveled across the world to see me!

I hadn't slept much in several nights and had been laying awake since 3am. Sabita got the girls up at 4am to 'go walking' and though I thought that was kind of a cruel punishment for misbehaving the day before, I joined them because I couldn't sleep anyway. If this were at home, I would know something was up, but I just chalked it up to Indians and the odd hours they keep. Sabita and I dropped the girls back at the house after a few rounds of the neighborhood and kept walking down into town and came back some time around 5:30. When I came in Nina was up, also unusual, but for some reason I didn't question that either. I had just lay down to try and nap for a few minutes when I was summoned next door to meet a friend of George's that was visiting. Exhausted and irritated I said I'd come in a bit and lay back down. Sabita came in a minute later urging me to come, everyone was waiting for me, and finally I got up, really grumpy at this point, and as I was getting ready George came calling for me. Now I was irritated. Three people in five minutes? What could be so important? I'm coming. As I stomped out the door, dressed in whatever I could find lying around, specs perched on the end of my nose, I noticed George standing outside. As I exited the gate trying not to glower at him he said 'Sorry to disturb, I want you to meet our guest!' and pointed to the porch. There she was, my Dovey! I don't know if I have ever been so shocked in all my life. There was my mama surrounded by my babies! Speechless and haggard I flew into her arms and the waterworks began. As I got used to the realization that she was in fact there with me, all the oddities of the days leading up to her arrival started to hit me. (It turns out she was MIA for a while after some flight complications and that was causing everyone to act even weirder than before.) How had I not figured out that something was up with everybody dodging me and acting so fishy? I can be pretty oblivious sometimes. Everyone (George, his family, Nina, the wardens, my family, and my best friend) dropped hints along the way but never enough to give me a clue. Anyone who knows me knows that surprises are one of my favorite things in all the world and this one really tops the list. The people in my life are absolutely some of the best in the world, I am sure of that. I am so blessed!

Whaaaa Haaappen?

This is what I do when I'm overwhelmed

(I got so excited I did the 'Fawma')

Dovey got to join us for this months visit with the widows to offer counseling and their monthly stipend

A Girl's Life

Almost all of the kids are back and we are dealing with the overwhelming energy of the lot of them together once again. This time around though, we are in the new (very small) house with all the girls. It's too small to bring in beds, so they do everything in the center common room. Here they eat their meals, play, sing, dance, and roll out their mats when it's time to sleep. It's fun to be back in a group of all females and it's so easy to return to the carefree and simple girl I was at their age when I am around them. I remember looking up to my sisters the way that they look up to me and for a little while, I get to be the big sister I never was in my own family. They love to brush my hair and play with my jewelry and poke at my freckles. But tonight, I think I opened a can of worms when I allowed them to tattoo me when we ran out of drawing paper. Before I knew it, I was getting a full-blown teenage Indian makeover. Man, I've never felt so beautiful! (yikes)

Tatting me up and plaiting my hair

Getting my hair did

Luckily there are no photos from after they colored my eyebrows black with mascara

A Day for Doves

'I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.'

It's Mother's Day once again, and once again I am many many miles from my own mama and missing her wonderful presence in my life. There is nothing I can say that can do justice to the amazing woman that is my mother. Dovey, as we like to call her, (Do-do to her grandchildren) is the greatest woman I know. She is beautiful, strong, faithful, loving, supportive, encouraging, creative, hilarious, compassionate, considerate, selfless, devoted, and tenacious. She took the less-than-ideal conditions of her own childhood and transformed herself into Super-Mom, determined to be the incredible woman that her own mother could never be. She cultivated a strong, tight-knit family and raised three daughters with a man she has loved since the age of 15. Together they instilled in us the values of love and grace, gratitude, respect for ourselves and others, and led by example the way to a righteous life. From as far back as I can remember, my parents taught my sisters and I the importance of children, the innocents of the world, the future generations. It is because of them that I have been brought to where I am today, doing what I am doing, serving God through caring for His children that have been left behind. My mother had the opportunity to fall in the footsteps of her own mother, but she took her responsibilities as a reward rather than a burden and wore motherhood like a badge of honor.

Keeping the spark alive after 38 years

World's Greatest Grandmother

(Do-do and her first grandbaby, Violet)

Dovey and her 3 girls

The family that plays together, stays together

When I think of my mother I am overcome with a sense of pride. I am so proud of everything that she is, everything that she has done, and everything that she has created in me. I have unconditional love for my mom, the woman who dried my tears as a child, and continues to do the same even now that I am an adult. I can only hope to become even a fraction of the mother that she has been and continues to be, when my time comes. I know that always and forever, no matter how old I am, I will be her baby. Dovey, thank you for everything you have done for me, I love you more than I can say. Happy Mother's Day!

'When I stopped seeing my mother with the eyes of a child, I saw the woman who helped me give birth to myself.'

Nancy Friday

**A note to my sisters: Don't even bother, I totally won this year!

16 and Married

Just about a month ago, Ganga, one of the oldest girls here, graduated from high school and moved out of New Hope. We were sad to see her leave but were confident that she had big things in her future. She is a very intelligent and hard-working girl, who spent 7 days a week from early morning until after the sun set studying hard, and taking extra classes at her english medium school. There is no doubt that she could achieve anything she sets her mind to. About a week ago we received some disturbing news. Ganga was to be married on May 5th, a union arranged by her step-mother in exchange for a dowry of a few acres of land. Ganga had been living at New Hope since the age of six and George was like a father to her, so you can imagine he was very upset by the news. He did all in his power to stop the illegal nuptials (both bride and groom are minors) but the wedding carried on despite his efforts, and without his attendance. Ganga had planned to come along when it was time for her younger sisters Gayathri and Anjali to return after summer break, but sadly we missed her lovely face when they arrived yesterday, and now may not see her again.

Ganga, just a child a few months ago, posing with her favorite animal at the zoo.

Although things like this are often the norm in India, I myself cannot even come close to relating. I can't imagine marrying someone whom I do not love, spending the rest of my life with someone that someone else has chosen, and losing my freedom at such a young age. I find myself thinking back to when I was 16 and my priorities were drastically different from Ganga's. My biggest concerns were acquiring my drivers license, petty arguments with my teenage boyfriend, what I would wear to the prom, and how I would perform at my next gymnastics meet -- definitely not a last minute wedding that I had no say over, becoming a wife and homemaker, and the most-likely frightening thoughts of what will happen after the ceremony, with a man I don't even know. Ganga is a girl that has shown so much promise, conviction, and devotion; a young lady with a passion for song and dance, who now may not have the choices or opportunity to follow her dreams. It makes me sad not only for Ganga, but for a nation that is still so caught up in ancient binding traditions and oppressive institutions that keep young women from their aspirations, goals, dreams, and desires. It is no life to live, one that is sure to be filled with dull sorrow and regret.

Ganga and Nina in the back of the truck on the way home from Lenti's christening

My heart goes out to Ganga in a time when she must feel so alone and exploited, traded like livestock for a piece of land. It is disturbing and upsetting, and quite a shock for us who just weeks ago were congratulating this beautiful young girl on what she has accomplished thus far and optimistic for her promising future. Just weeks ago she had the world at her fingertips. I am sure that Ganga will make the best of her situation, to learn to love the man that she is forced to spend the rest of her life with and create a better life for her family than she had for herself. But it doesn't ease the helplessness we all feel (especially George, her father figure for so many years) in not being able to do anything to rescue her.