We climbed into the tuk tuk at 4:00 pm and spent an hour driving through rice patties, small villages and herds of buffalo. The sun was setting and the sky turned a type of pink that made everything have a warm tint to it. As we drove past ponds, the burnt orange sun reflected off the water and illuminated the people walking along the bank making their ways home. By the time we got to the orphanage the sun had set and we had turned down enough dirt back-roads to make a person forget what it felt like to be in a moving vehicle that didn’t shake and rattle.
We walked into the three-story building, leaving our shoes at the front door and were welcomed by shy smiling faces. The little girls of the orphanage were wearing their most colorful and sparkling dresses and those who had silver anklets wore those too. The little boys were younger and shyer, running and hiding from us, giggling as they scurried away.
After the traditional welcomes, and all the smiling and hellos said by head bobbles and palms pressed together under chins, we headed upstairs to a room where straw matts covered the floor and a few speakers filled the corners.
We spent the next couple hours dancing, laughing, and singing. Most of the music had lyrics I didn’t understand and the little girls were dancing in ways I had only seen in Bollywood movies, but the joy that filled the room was undeniable. It had the energy of a rave except I was surrounded by little Indian children in a colorful concrete building in the middle of nowhere. The music was so loud that my ears hurt, but it didn’t matter because it was hard to focus on anything but the happiness and smiles that filled the room. After I was dripping in sweat, tired for jumping up and down, one of the women who owns the orphanage opened the door asking us to come downstairs because dinner was ready. I thought I loved Indian food back in America, but there is nothing quite like eating Indian curry made by a woman who cant speak English that’s hot enough to make you cringe about how its going to feel when you go to the bathroom the next morning. Even though my mouth felt like I was breathing flames, this meal was and still is by far one of the best things I have ever eaten.
After dinner we started to say goodbye, a sweet girl in a beautiful blue dress ran up and wrapped me up in her little arms and said in a thick Indian accent, “We are sisters.” I looked at her and grabbed her tighter and said, “Yes, we are sisters.”
On the drive back it was pitch black, we listened to love songs and thought about how crazy our lives were. Sometimes life is too good.
Since I left the states I have had so many moments where I just have to sit back and soak in the fact that somehow this is my life. Tonight was one of those times. Somehow I am lucky enough to be in a place so unfamiliar and strange yet overcome with a sense of peace and joy that is so strong there is no way it isn’t from God. I know this is a cheesy statement but I honestly think that this will be one of those nights that I remember forever. I’m not usually someone who describes a day as “magical” or “unreal” but those words are all that I can think of and they don’t even come remotely close to describing my little visit to the orphanage in the middle of a tiny village.
Of course this trip hasn’t been all rainbows and unicorns. Some days are really hard; you miss home, get real tired of sleeping on the floor or would even consider doing some questionable things just for a slice of red velvet cheesecake or a few Reese’s peanut butter cups. However, the sweetness of the moments make it all worth it.
