Update panda.

Amy said something poignant last night.

Sometimes, God puts us in situations we think we can't handle, in order to make us into people who can.

She didn't say it exactly like that, but that's the general idea.

The last few days have been a blob of unexpected change. When I started at Daya Dan, I thought I'd be there for a long time. Kids with mental disabilities? I can fit there. But then I got sick for a week (last week), and I haven't gone back to Daya Dan. It's something I prayed about for a loooong time. On Saturday, I ran into Jill on her way to Kalighat, and decided to go with her. Kalighat is the home for the destitute and the dying. It's right next to the Kali Temple, a Hindu temple that honors the god of destruction. Working at Kalighat is the one volunteer option that, before I came to India, I "knew" I was going to avoid. It's pretty much a giant, crowded, hospice. IVs everywhere. Cleaning bedpans. Changing dressings. Washing dishes. A lot of icky wounds, a lot of people dying. Right next to a huge mass of people celebrating the god of death and destruction. Not a place I thought I'd be of help - actually, I didn't think I'd be able to handle it at all.

Then I went anyway.
And it was wonderful.

I know enough Bangla now to have basic conversations, and joke about how little Bangla I know. Coup coum.Also, I'm a very touch-communication type person. Thus, hanging out with old women who want hugs and people to listen and smile and nod? I can do that. Yes, there are other volunteers giving injections all around me, but I've learned to avert my eyes, and focus entirely on the woman who's trying to tell me (in Bangla) about her children, her past, and where she got her silver bracelet.

I've moved from somewhere I thought I could be of help (Daya Dan) to somewhere I thought I couldn't even stand to be (Kalighat) - and I actually feel more helpful at Kalighat. This is craziness.

Also, I taught English to ten-year-olds today (hence the picture). And it was AWESOME. No translator. By myself. And I suddenly realized that I know enough Bangla to comfortably teach kids. I'm still desperately trying to learn more, but today showed me that my attempts are actually working. I can't communicate with adults very effectively, but kids - definitely. I can say "good" and "very" and "little" and "go" and "stop" and "yes" and "it's okay" and "beautiful" and "my name is Ani" and "what is your name" and "what" and "where" and "who" and "why" and "when" and "how are you" and "i am fine" and "i like it" and a bunch of other phrases and words. And I used all of them. Hooray! And I drew stars on their papers, and they thought that was the coolest thing ever.

Okay, time for dinner.

India amazes me. God amazes me. I am here. Teaching English to kids and young women, changing bedpans, and loving dying women. Not what I expected. But wonderful.

Love and Apne Aap,
Ani