hello August.

hello August, month of my birth. and the births of my eldest sister Melissa and my mother. happy birthday Carly. August: the month in which I will leave Shanti Bhavan. I'm reluctant to speak the words I have 3 weeks left here. that statement feels like a lie. on Monday, I was feeling trunky. I was desperate to call home and talk to my family. some time between Monday and today I feel panicked. I can not leave. 3 weeks is not enough time left. I feel sick about it. here's why:

Sunday:
taking weekend trips like the one to Mysore are exhausting. they're physically and mentally draining. India is a sensory feast and my senses are sensitive. it always feels so good to be home and I wished that I'd never left. it is strange how many emotions I am going through here. I don't remember being this unstable or easily affected in the past. I don't ever remember being so tired! this is why volunteer-based efforts are so hard to get accomplished--it's wildly exhausting and hardly accommodating. it makes sense because it's not about you--it has to be about someone else or it's not service.

Sunday night
Summer & Allegra (2 volunteer sisters--I love them so much. they are just so normal and very easy to talk to. not to mention they are both professional musicians. Allegra plays piano and Summer plays cello) put on a SB choir production. it was a great night and the choir sang one of my favorites Getting to Know You from the King and I, but I love that song because of James Taylor singing and whistling it on my childhood favorite For Our Children cassette tape. they sang the song once, sang it twice and performed a marvelous handshake with partners. the third time, they all came into the audience and grabbed new partners. Sumith from 5th grade came to take me, I handed off Summer's camera to Mani (12th grade boy), and I was tugged me all the way to the stage where I was a horrible partner but couldn't help smiling. of course.

Tuesday
today was Amarnath's birthday (4th grade boy, turning 9 years old). a few days before, he got hit with a cricket bat and had to wear a bandage on his left eyebrow. on Monday, Mary Sheela told me he was feeling shy about wearing it on his birthday. luckily, he was able to go bandage-free on his big day. the kids don't get a lot of celebration for their birthdays--just a special outfit for about 15 minutes at snack time, where they get sung to and can hand out chocolates (candy--every kind of candy in India is a chocolate) to the staff and volunteers. Amarnath is uber talented. I've never seen a kid with potential so thick and so visible. he is a brilliant dancer in dance class, he completes his social studies work perfectly, and his athleticism is impressive--winning lightning every other time against the 5th graders. he is the kid to be around. I've never seen him get down or sensitive or become sad over small things, or anything for that matter. but on Tuesday, during P.T. I noticed him not playing basketball with the rest of the boys. I made him come sit by me. he is not usually the boy to grab my hand or give me a hug, but he came right into my lap and started crying. he didn't tell me what the reason was but I got the feeling it was for no reason at all. I always cry on my birthday. it's never what it should be and I imagine he was feeling the tiniest bit homesick. I must admit I know how he feels.

I really am emotional. I wish I was more cheerful. actually, I wish I was more of a lot of things. i wish I was more compassionate. more fun. a better friend to the kids. more flexible. longer suffering. I really feel that I need to work specifically on becoming a better, more personal person. my interpersonal skills are not what they should be. I wish I were more genuine. Robbie, a most loved and zealous volunteer left on Tuesday. I thought the kids might die of sadness. every kid was crying. I don't know but on Tuesday I wasn't sure about my place at Shanti Bhavan. I want to be loved. I am never going to be as popular as Robbie, but I hoped that one kid will be as sad that I am leaving, as they all are that Robbie has gone. thinking, how can I be more like Robbie? I've been listening to a lot of complaining among adults (mainly in my own head) and I started to conclude that some of the volunteers I've met have come to serve their own purpose. and I realized that I was one of them. how selfish it is to wish for a child to be sad on my account. I am working and thinking so hard in order to fulfill me own needs--I should be thinking about the kids' needs.

Thursday
a day to win all days. 10 British teachers from an organization called Leaders Quest came to visit Shanti Bhavan to see, in their words, what they could learn from us. I've never seen so much hullabaloo in my life. the kids were dressed in their nicest saris and the boys wore shirts and ties. they looked so beautiful! 4 of the 12th graders challenged 4 of the teachers with a debate on the topic "The world will be a less stable, less secure, less prosperous place 25 years from now." I've never seen a better debate. Viji is incredible. I'm sure he is one of the smartest 17 year old boys I've ever met--if not the smartest. he commands a room with his wit and articulation. Rajini quoted Macbeth beautifully and faced his opposition fearlessly. Mala's eloquent speech on technology affecting the poor filled me with pride. and Pushpa is the strongest, most independent young woman I've ever met. she is brilliant and her words on climate change were solid and powerful.

the volunteers also had a private meeting with the British people. we talked for a short 30 minutes about our experience here--and what it is the school really needs. Shanti Bhavan's message is simple: first, the kids are from the poorest of the poor. second, look what they've done. third, look who they are. they are polished, well-mannered, and tomorrow's leaders who are going to break out of the cycle of poverty. fourth, as volunteers, we've been here and we know that a dollar given is a dollar well-spent. it will not be wasted.

after the debate, the choir sang the most beautiful song I've ever heard. I vaguely know what it means (it is in Tamil), but each time I hear it I cry. the best part of Thursday was seeing Pushpa accompany the choir on the violin. she is a brilliant violin player, despite her not having a teacher for 2 years. she has never performed in public before and her playing was beautiful. I am still bursting with pride for her accomplishments. she is a testament to how inadequate I am. she has SO much potential as a violinist (among other things), but I am not enough to teach her what she needs to know.

the whole point of the Tamil song was to set up 5 vignettes put on by the 11th and 12th graders. the vignettes or role plays were meant to be an illustration of what the kids' lives are like when they are not at Shanti Bhavan. if you were there you would not have believed the sheer talent and confidence with which they acted out these real experiences. it was a shocking juxtaposition to see them acting so brilliant a scene so real and so tragic. many times at Shanti Bhavan, I have cried. the kids are always asking me "Miss, why did you cry?"

Friday
after the role plays, the British teachers were crying. some of them uncontrollably. I wanted to explain to the kids why they were crying. I discussed it on a whim in 8th grade and in 10th grade I was shocked when I had their full full attention, something that almost never happens. I'll never forget the attention Keshavan gave me. his eyes were looking at me, waiting for an explanation with genuineness. I asked them why they thought the British (disclaimer: I am sorry for constantly referring to human beings according to their nationality. they were really nice people and more than just British people. but that is what I am referring to them as now) people were crying. they gave me a right answer: they were touched.

I explained to them the concept of a Sunday School answer--that there are some times when we answer a question with whatever we think the person asking the question wants to hear instead of giving a real answer. they understood that when you give a Sunday School answer, you're not really thinking about the question and you're not thinking about how you feel about the answer. you're not thinking about the significance.

finally, I told them the reason I thought those people were crying, the reason people cry, the reason I cry, is because of the juxtapositions that exist in Shanti Bhavan. the combination of how beautiful and brilliant they are and that the scenes they are acting are real to them. and not even real. "real" is a word that is so over-dramatic and overused. to them, it's not real, it's normal. the reason why those British people are crying is because it is shocking that these kids come from villages were female infanticide is normal, and where their uncle wants to sell them into prostitution because their parents are both dead. and it is unbelievable that the kids playing Fantasy Impromptu on the piano have come from homes where the dad is alcoholic and abusive. that the 17 year old Indian boys have nicknamed one of their friends Gomez because he has a light mustache (they can make you laugh hysterically at the drop of a hat) come from homes where girls can't go to school after 8th grade. their families can't use the village well because they are of the "untouchable" caste. that is unbelievable because here they are singing For Good from Wicked.

I continued to tell the 10th graders that one reason why people are so "touched" is because when they meet them, they feel the need to change. if I leave them the same person I was when I came, I will have failed myself.

am missing you all and will see you very soon. until then, I will feel anxious about leaving my family of 200 kids with soft hands and smiling faces.