I've got some friends that you should meet. Part two.

Books. :-)


My two super roommates - Jake and Tony.


Clearly, they love each other.


And Jeff!


"Look cute. Like, baby turtle cute."


Also, I still exist.


Oh hey, goats in the street.

Bueno.

Off to Kalighat.

Love and html,
Stephanie

Best. Moment. Ever.

Warning: the following post has nothing to do with anything heart-warming, thought-provoking, or life-changing.

Except that's a lie.
This was one of the most amazing moments of my life.

Ready?

I don't think anyone could possibly be prepared for this moment.
I sure wasn't.

Okay.
So.

I was sitting in my room at Hotel Walson with Jill, Jake, Jeff, and Tony. And the fan was spinning quite quickly. So Tony said "that fan's going way too fast" or something like that. And Tony and I had just been discussing the joy of subtle sarcasm, so I responded with...

"That's actually really pretty stationary."
And I didn't say anything else.

About half a minute later, Jill was going through her suitcase, and reappeared with a black, rectangular box containing paper and envelopes. And Tony said something like, "man, that's fancy. I'm not sure what I think of it." And I said...(ready?)...

"That's actually really pretty stationery."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The end.

Love and verbal GLEE,
Stephanie

Love, love, love - part two. And some other stuff.

After posting yesterday, I thought for awhile about what I wrote...and realized that I needed to add a little to it.

So here's the addition.

:-)

In regards to loving with actions...I had a quick question for all y'all. When I'm in Kalighat, loving with actions seems fairly straightforward, especially when I don't speak Bangla very well. But with you all, my friends and family, I'm a little more confused. Especially when you're *Google search* 8000 miles away. Wow that's far. It seems like, considering distance, the only way I can show you all that I love you is through words. Blog posts. Emails. Phone calls. Well, that and prayer. Hmmmmmmmm. So...how do I love-with-actions people who are 8000 miles away??? Aaaah!

And I'd like to clarify something super-fast. Even though God's trying to teach me to love with actions, I don't really feel like I've learned how yet. Kalighat, yes. Outside of Kalighat...not so much. So if that last post sounded like "look what I'm learning!", that's not what I meant to communicate. I meant more so "look what God's trying to teach me!", because He's definitely trying, and I'm definitely...trying to figure out how to learn.

Okay.

That's all.

But while I'm writing...

Something ridiculous happened today.

Yesterday, after teaching, Zareen asked me to come to Apne Aap around 11:30 today. And didn't tell me why. When I asked, she said one of the directors wanted to meet with me. Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Thus, from then until this morning, approximately twelve different ideas bounced around my brain. They were angry with me for being a half-hour late every day (vaguely likely). They thought I was teaching inappropriately and they wanted me to be more structured (likely). They wanted to tell me that the drama group wasn't going to work (likely). They wanted to kick me out of Apne Aap altogether (not too likely, but frightening). And when I got there, I was completely surprised by something totally different.

They wanted me to write a grant proposal.

Subachani (I think that's her name; I still can't remember it) opened an outline on her computer, and proceeded to explain to me their plan for creating a recovery and reintegration program for women in prostitution, based in a hostel. Full financial support for the first six months (phase one), counseling and therapy, community living - in six phases. Three years long. With eventual job placement and complete self-sufficiency. I'm not going to explain all the details, because it's waaaaaaaaay too complex, but it sounds like an extremely effective, and possibly very expensive program.

So...I wrote it. In four hours. With lunch, an exorbitant amount of chai, and a bathroom break. The whole thing, almost. I copied and pasted the what-Apne-Aap-does section from a different proposal, Subachani had given me an outline of the program, and I still have to write the "what next" section detailing the future. But it still ended up being thirteen pages. It'll be fourteen in between now and Friday, when I finish the "what next" section.

This is ridiculous. Two months ago, I wrote a research paper about Apne Aap. Today, I wrote a grant proposal for them. Because they asked me to.

OMIGOSH I WROTE A GRANT PROPOSAL FOR AN ANTI-SEX TRAFFICKING NGO.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And the girls were sitting in a larger room right next to where I was, and we kept waving at each other and laughing while I was type-type-typing, and they waited for me after their class, and we walked out together, and I adore them. And I love that we're the same age. And it's wonderful.

OH! And they changed my schedule. Now I'm teaching my usual twenty girls Monday-Thursday from 12:00-13:00, and then the class splits into ten-girl study groups from 13:00-14:00, Monday/Wednesday and Tuesday/Thursday. And I'm doing individual work with two girls from 14:00-14:30. Which is SO MUCH better. Because now I can teach group lessons every day, and spend the M/W and T/R time focusing more on individual, smaller, writing work. Or maybe the opposite. I need to think about it and plan my time. And ask you all for advice. Advice please?

AND! Friday afternoon = drama group...which we've been trying to start for a few weeks, but festivals and bus strikes and stuff have caused it to not happen. Boo.

This schedule is FANTASTIC. Because the afternoon shift at Kalighat is from 15:00-17:30, and now I can go to the whole shift every day, rather than being an hour late. Because I've been teaching from 13:30-15:30.

HOORAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Schedule:
Monday-Wednesday - AA noon-2:30pm, Kalighat 3:00 - 5:30pm.
Thursday - AA noon-2:30pm. Missionaries of Charity Day of Rest.
Friday - Kalighat 8:00 - noon, AA 1:30-4:30pm (They told me to be there at 1:30, but didn't really explain why. Something about sitting with the girls.)
Saturday / Sunday - Kalighat 8:00 - noon, and/or 3:00 - 5:30.

Also, Mass is at 6:00AM, and Adoration is 6:00 / 6:30 PM, depending on the day. And I'm a big fan of Adoration, because it's pretty much an hour of silent prayer / meditation at the Mother House.

Wow.

This is awesome.

And I just realized that I'm oddly doing exactly what my Mom does...teaching and taking care of sick people.

Hi Mom!

Also, credit to my Dad for the lesson I taught yesterday - it's based off of the M&MD Hebrew Fruit Salad Night from when I was, like, ten. Thanks. :-)

Okay, this was way longer than I meant it to be. And I have been staring at a computer screen for approximately five hours today, which is icky.

Time for dinner. Nom.

Love and I WROTE A GRANT PROPOSAL,
Stephanie

Love, love, love.

My class. Normally, when they take pictures, they all try to look serious. But one of the girls moved and they all started laughing - and I caught this picture. And honestly, we all laugh through class anyway, so this is much more accurate.


Proof that I'm there too. But aaaaaaaah why don't they smile?!


Three from the right - Zareen, my lovely sometimes-translator. Three from the left (with the braids), one of the most beautiful faces I've ever seen.


Queen Victoria Memorial. Pretty. :-)

"This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth. This then is how we know that we belong to the truth, and how we set our hearts at rest in his presence whenever our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything." - 1 John 3:16-20

When I first sat down to write this post, I had no clue how to tie together everything that I've experienced in the past week. I've taught a bunch of classes and worked at Kalighat. Though both are difficult and emotionally trying, I've been very...calm. Comfortable. I've had experiences that have been completely new and a little shocking, but through it all, I've been...peaceful? Thus, trying to figure out what to write has been difficult. Teaching - amazing. Kalighat - amazing. But what to write about them?

And then I remembered the quote I read on a chalkboard in the Motherhouse yesterday, after Adoration (which was also amazing): "real love cannot be explained using words, only actions" and then some other stuff. I don't remember the whole thing. But it got me thinking - I've always been a big fan of 1 John 3:18 (oh hey Sam Toeller!). So much, in fact, that it's one of my "theme verses" for my time in India. Loving with actions, rather than words. I think that we often try to explain love as if it's an emotion, or a sentiment. We tell people we love them. But without the actions to back it up, what does that mean? Since I've been here, I've been extremely convicted to make sure that my view of love is not emotion-based, but action-based. Friendship love. Brotherly / sisterly love. Romantic love. Love of all people. Love of God. If I don't show people that I love them, through time, service, support, etc., how will they know? If I don't show God that I love Him, do my emotions really make a difference? I can say that I love God, but if I'm not giving my life to actively serve Him, I don't think saying it every so often really counts. Relationships take time, not just statements.

I've been at Kalighat for a week now. And I've found that the more I'm there, the more I love it, and the more I love it, the more I want to be there. A few days ago, a woman named Kamala came in. Her first day, she had two volunteers with her nearly the whole time, so I was with other women. Her second day, I somehow ended up next to her. She was thin, barely moving, wheezing when she breathed, quite old (maybe, it's difficult to judge age here), with long, tangled, silver hair. There was a bowl next to her bed into which she coughed blood and phlegm. Super. So I sat there, and stroked her hair and held her hand and rubbed her back and watched for her chest to convulse so I could put the bowl in front of her. And listened to her talk about...something. I'm not sure what. When the women talk for long amounts of time, and are clearly trying to tell me something different than "blanket" or "food," I imagine what they're saying as they're saying it. I have entire stories made up for the women to whom I've listened, about husbands, children, mothers, and once, I swear a woman told me a recipe for curry.

And as I got to know Kamala, I realized that I really just wanted to sit there with her. I often sit and talk with Holu, Asha, Laila and a few other women, but, for the last three days, I've mainly been with Kamala. Two days ago, a doctor listened to her breathe with a stethoscope, and diagnosed a collapsed lung and congestive heart failure, and added "she's not well at all." She didn't tell me how long she'd have to live, and I didn't ask. So I combed her hair and French braided it, so the Sisters wouldn't have to cut it off. I figured Kamala probably wouldn't be a fan of someone cutting her hair. It was quite long. And right after I finished, she twisted it up into a bun. I didn't think her hands would be that dexterous, nor her arms that strong. She had difficulty sitting up.

Since I've been with her, she's recognized me when I walk in, and she's been more comfortable with me. The first day, she was kind of distant, but the past two days, when I held her, she leaned against me and talked with me. I imagine she told me about the family that should have been there with her. Usually, the sisters encourage us to interact with all of the women...but they didn't get angry with me for being with Kamala. And I think Kamala and I both appreciated that.

I was going to go to Kalighat this morning, but I had forgotten to plan for Apne Aap today. So I slept in (10:30 - whoa), and bought candy for my students (pictured at the top!!), because I taught a lesson today on numbers and requesting things. What would you like, I would like, how many, do you have, I have, this, that, these, those, all, some, many, none. I placed all the candy (three different types) in the middle of the circle, and asked each girl which one they would like, and how many, and then separated the candy into three piles and asked them which ones they would like. They had to answer with something like "one of that, two of these, and one of this," using "this" for singular, close objects, "that" for singular, far objects, "these" for plural, close objects, and "those" for plural, far objects. And today, I had no translator. It was awesome. The girls and I had so much fun - they somehow picked up the word "enjoy," so they said "I enjoy class" over and over, and one girl said "I enjoy you." Hehe. Whenever I have them write sentences (often), they always work in something about me. When we studied "what do you like?" a bunch wrote "I like Ani." And who-what-where-when-why-how turned into "who is your favourite teacher?" I promise this isn't why I love teaching. But it's really nice to have such an encouraging group of girls, who openly express enjoyment of my two-hour-long class, joyously teach me Bengali and passionately complete the homework I assign. I feel extremely blessed to have such an amazing group for my first class. Oh...and they're probably the same age as me. I think most are eighteen.

Anyway, I got to Kalighat around four today (rather than three), because for the past two days, my taxi drivers have placed me in spots that are definitely not Kalighat. I walked to Kamala's bed, and she wasn't there. The volunteer next to her kinda half-smiled and shook her head, beckoned me over, and said "she died this morning." Oh. I walked into the common room for a few seconds, hugged my friend Jeff, and walked back in. Because there are lots of other patients. Holu was crying and clutching her stomach, and no one was with her - so I asked her kaemon achen? (how are you) and kothay? (where), and she pointed, and it was probably ovarian, she's young, so it could have even been menstrual pain - so I gave her a foot massage, and she calmed down. And then I helped distribute food, cleaned after dinner, washed dishes, joked with some Australians about the height of kangaroos, butchered some French with two volunteers from France, and went up to the roof for tea with the rest of the volunteers. A few volunteers asked me how I was, and honestly, I'm fine. Completely fine. Kamala was in a lot of pain, and looked very much at peace when she was sleeping before she died. She was old, I think. And I had prayed for her for awhile yesterday. So, nope, I feel fine. There are lots of other women at Kalighat to love. ...but I still swiped her name card before the Sisters could throw it away, which means her death affected me enough to cause me to steal from nuns. Uh...

Anyway, I'm learning that love isn't about how someone makes you feel, or even the inexplicable connection or chemistry between two people. It's about support, service, and doing everything you can to meet that person's needs. And needs are not the same as wants. Some women in Kalighat want two blankets - no. They get one. But when they're in pain - we're there. They need someone there, to give them a massage, a shoulder to lean on, a hug, some water - because otherwise they'd be dying on the streets. And please know that I'm aware that I need to take care of myself too. I'm not skin to skin touching the women with scabies. I promise. But I'm learning a lot about being who these women need me to be, for a few hours a day.

I don't think this post was anywhere near as focused as I wanted it to be.
But now it's 9:35, which means it's 9:05 in the States - OBAMA TIME.

Love and i-would-like-five-candies,
Stephanie

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

The Picture Post.

Yep. It's happening.


(cute kids outside the hostel)


(view from the roof)


(New Years)

I'm posting pictures.
There are a bunch on Facebook, but I figured it made sense to post some on here too.

So.........here we go!


Salwaar Kameez. The blue one.


How I feel about taking pictures of myself.


My old room. Modern Lodge #20.


Oh hey, fellow backpackers. This is what we do when we're not volunteering. Sit on a curb, grab some instruments, and play play play. There's a crowd standing around. You just can't see them.


More cute kids.


Martin! My tailor! ...or, his hand. And one of the three walls of his shop. Blogspot cropped all my pictures smaller. I'm in the process of figuring out how to fix that. [edit] Fixed! :-)


Pretty fabric.


And me in a sari.



Okay, that's all! Gonna go buy notebooks now.

Love and jpegs,
Stephanie

TEFL, next lesson, and little notebooks.

Drumrollllllll...

I've discovered something that I'm nearly sure I want to do with my life.

Ready?!

Get TEFL certified.

It's a month-long, $1500ish program that gets me certified to teach English abroad, as a foreign language. Which means that I'd be guaranteed jobs pretty much anywhere in the world. Job = money. Money = ability to live somewhere. Teaching = helping people. Teaching English = utter glee. World-traveling = more utter glee. Hurray!

So, um...does anyone know anyone who has been through TEFL certification? There are a gazillion and a half programs out there, and I don't want to choose one that's a scam. Also, I have to figure out when I want to do this. Not any time soon. Maybe the May Term post-graduation?

Mmmkay, that's all for now about TEFL.

And! I figured out what I'm doing for class on Monday. I made little charts with faces and words like "happy" and "sad" and "tired" and "sick" and some other ones. And I'll teach question words, like "why" and "who." And "because." And I made a chart so I can teach all six present-tense conjugations of "to be," including the pronouns that go with them. So theoretically, by the end of class, they'll be able to have this conversation:

"What is your name?"
"My name is Ani."
"What is his name?"
"His name is Raul."
"How are you?"
"I am tired."
"Why? Are you sick?"
"Yes. But I am happy. I am in India!"
"We are sad because you are sick, but we are happy because you are happy."
"We are happy."
"Tik ache."
*head-wobbles*

Ambitious? Yes. But they're smart. And they want to learn. So I'm gonna push them. If it's too much, we'll split it into two days. Sam, thanks for the suggestion about taking the walk! I modified it and made little faces on paper to use for remembering adjectives. ...and I colour-coded them, 'cause I'm a nerd. Yay visual connections! :-)

Also, I'm going to New Market to buy a bunch of little notebooks and pens for my class. And Kalim will help me, so I won't spend a lot of money.

...and I caved and bought a Newsweek today. 60 rupees. Worth it.

Love and teacher-ness,
Stephanie