(Rickshaws)
We drove through the streets of Bangalore. Our driver Kumar using his horn as an alert to to the oncoming traffic and auto rickshaws slowing him down. I felt disconnected to the outside world. Here I was in my traditional Indian clothes, with the Air-con blowing in my face driving in our personal SUV. I kind of felt as if I have been transported back to the US for a short time. I mean AC and our own car and driver……“I am spoiled” I thought to myself.
(Streets of India)
Everywhere I looked I saw children in torn clothes, most without shoes. Women and men sold fruit for 10 rupees (25 cents) just trying to make it by. Cows wandered the streets, they are the most sacred animals in the Hindu religion, and are respected higher than some human life.
It was 5:30 PM…….our first night going into the slum. We had no idea what to expect. We had been prepared by our contacts, been told stories of children not wanted by their parents, of living conditions unimaginable……….but still how prepared can you really be for this experience. All race I have been hearing about India and about the slum children I would have the opportunity to work with, well here I was, month 11 and it was real. Alley way led to alley way, Kumar navigated the streets as if they were the back of his hands (he would be a pro in downtown Manhatten), thanks goodness he is behind the wheel. Finally he stops and pulls over……no idea where I was…“well this is it, are you ready for this Anna?” is all I could say. We got out and followed him. We walked by homes made of scrap metal, children playing in the dirt next to heaps of trash, mothers cooking a meager meal of greens or some rice, a rat, multiple stray dogs, and the very obvious temple.
We come to a three story building…….“here we are”……the sweet old Indian man that does some cooking for us back home was there. He was preparing the dinner he would feed the children that night. There are three classrooms, we break up into groups of two, Emily and I get the youngest group, the ones who speak the least English, but are the age I love. We enter the room and a room of about 35 black eyed, wide-eyed, eager, excited, breathtakingly gorgeous children turn their heads to us. We are welcomed by “Auntie, Auntie, Auntie” by all of them. They make a pathway for us so we can walk to the front of the class. In all my time of teaching I have never seen a group of 6-8 year olds so attentive. You are there focus, until of course their attention span dies away but until then they are just hanging on your every word.
(Precious Indian Children)
We pull the old tricks out of the hat……sing some songs, they sing some of their own, Emily teaches a Bible story and I teach them English. Animals, vegetables, fruit, colors, you know the basics. They surprise me in the knowledge they possess. For the first time on this race (well maybe second after Cambodia) I was reminded of the reason why I went to college for Early Childhood Ed. I had lost my passion along the way but my love for the children, my enthusiasm, my creative juices, my teaching voice for the kids, and my ability to block out the rest of the world all came back and in that moment I was alive. Alive with the passion the Lord had put on my heart so many years ago. I absolutely LOVED it.
(Teaching the Children)
We only stayed till 7:30 PM. That is when each child returns home with their plate of food. Normally rice, daal, and some kind of vegetable. Kumar told us that they bring the plate home because most are forced to share it with their parents waiting at home. It makes me sad but atleast they are getting something to eat. We leave quite promptly. We are told it is unsafe to stay too long since it is now dark, being Americans and all. Kumar leads the way out and Jake and A.J. bring up the rear. We pass by the rat (we have named him Ratatouille) and make our way to our SUV.
We sit in silence, not sure what to say. The past 10 months come to mind, all the children I have seen, the places I have visited, and it is almost too much to think about. How will I return to life in the US after seeing all this? How do I share this with people back home who have not experienced this like I have? How do I say good bye to these children at the end of the month? It will be hard but I know I am only here for a time so I pray because that is the only control I have in the situation. And if there is anything I have learned over these past 10 months it is that PRAYER is POWERFUL.
Until Next Time
Love Annalisa
