Something incredible happened today. I mean, everything is incredible here. But this was awesome.
I wasn't going to make a blog post today, but this is just too good.
First off, Erica - OMIGOSH I completely understand. Oh man oh man oh man. For sure.
Explanation panda...
So, remember Joy? The little kid with autism who kept pushing me away? Okay, well...keep this all hush hush because I'm technically not supposed to know yet...but... .... ...
Apparently, the first day I was there, a few sisters decided they wanted to place me one on one with Joy. Because his current teacher will be leaving in a week. This is odd, because Joy and I didn't get along AT ALL the first day - in fact, I formed great relationships with everyone BUT Joy on the first day. But apparently someone said I was really patient, and that Joy and I would fit together well. Today, Joy and I STILL didn't connect, and everything with everyone else was STILL wonderful...until after lunch.
But I'm going to start a little earlier in the day.
Breakfast, dangerous taxi ride to Daya Dan (you think Mexico is frightening? ha.), love love love the boys at Daya Dan, prepared my own lesson involving copying numbers, shapes and colours, ended up doing a completely different lesson, fed Siban again (still adorable, ate better today), put the boys to sleep, had lunch. At lunch, I asked Sister Jennifer if I could play the guitar I saw in the attic during rest time. She gave me a "heck yes you can play the guitar" look, but she's a nun, so she said something a little less colloquial. So, after frantically making little Baby Jesus figures for the play tomorrow, while the boys were still sleeping, I grabbed the guitar and headed into the meditation room. Played and sang my usual "I haven't played in awhile" songs - Hear You Me, Everything, Best of Me, Only Hope. Midway through Hear You Me, and I kid you not, Joy walks in. Doesn't run. Walks. Keep in mind that this boy NEVER stops moving. Walks in, sits down in front of me. Barely moves. Listens. Looks AT ME AND THE GUITAR. Please remember - autism - no eye contact, no sitting still. He DID BOTH. FOR THREE MINUTES. Usually, keeping him still for ten seconds is improbable. After three minutes (there was a clock in the room; I timed it), he started licking his hands and plucking the strings while I played. I didn't mind. It was like a little, high-pitched solo above my chords. It was only until Amy walked in that we stopped.
OMIGOSH. This boy, whom I adore, LOVES WHEN I SING AND PLAY GUITAR. And sits still! And focuses!! Llksfjasodifijfkldsfjdiosu!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also, I had just been journaling right before this about how I felt guilty about wanting to play guitar, because I wanted to devote all my time to the kids.
Oh man. God is AWESOME.
I love Kolkata.
(and I love that my middle name is Joy - thanks Mom!)
Love,
Stephanie
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
posting. tiredly.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH THIS PLACE IS AMAZING.
Gonna paraphrase from my journal entries again to start.
First off, after my blog post, I prayed this: "I did not like not moving today. Please throw me in tomorrow."
Oh goodness. Why do I pray these things...
Feel free to laugh at me for such a ridiculously exhaustion-inducing prayer.
Ten minutes later, I walked downstairs (from the roof), and met Amy. That's a link to her blog. Click it. She's AMAZING. 40 years old, six feet tall, been traveling for two years. Been EVERYWHERE. I had actually gotten in contact with her through her blog before I came here. I swiped her packing list, messaged her, and she gave me advice and what not. I talked with her for a loooong time two nights ago - and the next morning, woke up at 5:15 to go with her to mass at the Mother House. WOW. Literally, the mass that Mother Teresa went to when she was here. Saw Mother Teresa's tomb. Didn't go near it. Holy sight for some, creepy decomposing body in a box for others. Both for me. You know how I am with death.
Anyway, breakfast (chai, white bread, banana - remember that time I got addicted to chai at home, and now it's all they drink here? :-p) at the Mother House after mass, gave my email address to the priest, he will send me forwarded things he sends everyone. Then, a bus, an auto-rickshaw, and Daya Dan.
Daya Dan. Taking my journal entry. ... = skipping some writing. [clarification edits]
"1316 - Sunday 14 December 2008 (Daya Dan) - I'm lying on a pad [mattress] in the Daya Dan volunteer sleeproom. Wearing scrub pants, pink tank, white shirt bought from a booth [outside the market] with green stitching. Black bandanna. Black flip-flops. I fit. ... the scrubs are perfect. ... today has been exquisite. Went to bed @ 1ooish, ... woke up @ 500, went to mass, breakfast w/all the volunteers...they're all lovely. Amy and I rode the bus (5 rupees) to an autorickshaw to Daya Dan. Saw a dead man lying in the street. Weird. ... Walked into Daya Dan...Christmas music and 25 autistic, fetal-alcohol syndrome, wasting-away disease, blind AND autistic, "autistic" [many boys are clearly incorrectly diagnosed], epileptic, [cerebral palsy] boys, between 5-15 years old, running around an open room. Hitting. Drooling. Climbing. Laying on the floor. Amy introduced me to everyone ... for about ten minutes, I was sensory overloaded like whoa. Didn't feel like holding drool-covered hands. But [the constant call of] "auntie, auntie" got to me. I danced, walked around with, talked with nearly all of them [you know how I am with desperately trying to get every kid included - it was difficult, but possible]. One boy, Joy, maybe 7 or 8 [he's actually 5], was sitting against a wall rocking. Looking uncomfortable. I mean clearly, if you're a tiny autistic boy in a room full of movement and noise, you're gonna rock a little. Or a lot. I was instantly drawn to him...but a bunch of other, more energetic kids grabbed me away. I sat with Joy a few times - he didn't respond or literally pushed me away. We practiced songs, did children's mass - I helped a boy up the staris, came down and changed clothes and ate lunch. I fed Siban. Tiny, 3 maybe, NO muscle control. Took maybe and hour and a half. He could chew by himself, but occasionally (note: often) needed reminders and I had to hold his head up. I figured out, after he fell asleep while I was feeding him, that squeezing his foot wakes him up. Hehe. He's beautiful. Then I cleaned his face (mess panda) and I put him to bed. I may or may not have sang Sufjan to him. ...:-) "like a father to impress / like a mother's mourning dress / if you ever make a mess / i'll do anything for you" etc. and To Be Alone With You [i know those are about Jesus, and clearly I'm not even close to being Jesus - but they're pretty, and I like them] - gosh, he's adorable. Then I talked with Mongol a little. He's 15, really smart, but his body is disintegrating. ARGH! For lunch -rice (w/rocks :-)), yellow dahl, street samosas. Fanta. Water. W/Amy. Happy panda. :-) :-) :-). ... Okay, nearly naptime. The volunteers just ran in. And layed down. I love this. I love these people. I love this work. I love these children. I love this place. ... This. Is. Beautiful."
After the 15-minute nap, I was woken up by the noise from downstairs. The kids had woken up, Ankur had had a 5-minute grand mal seizure, and we were trying to dress the kids for their performance at the church. "Keeping an eye on AND dressing 25 mentally disabled kids = craziness. They were ALL OVER." It was fun, but RIDICULOUS. They kept running around and screeching. And Ankur was trying to recover, and the sisters wanted quiet for him. KLjdfjasiofdj! But wonderful. "Prince and I get along really well. He's the 18-year-old who is supposedly really violence." We talked for about an hour while the kids were getting ready. Well, "talked." He uses his own invented sign language. He needed the attention, because he hits people (hard) if there isn't someone with him. "And Rohib...man. He's awesome. Cerebral palsy ... but obviously really intelligent." This boy's eyes say it all - his brain functions normally. He's probably smarter than the average 15-year-old. But his body is contorted and doesn't move. He lies on the floor all day. He cannot speak. But I think he understands - I sit with him, and we talk. Him with his eyes, me with words, facial expression, and touch. He's wonderful.
The show at the cathedral - WOW. Maybe 30 church groups came to sing Christmas carols. In a place smack dab in the middle of the 10/40 window - wow. Four hours long. Everything in India moves slower and takes more time - I fit. :-) Groups sang, accomanied by synthesizers. So many repetitions of songs. It was craziness. Picture a bunch of Indian guys and girls, college-age, singing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, with a synthesized techno beat, in a beautiful, ornate cathedral. FOR FOUR HOURS. I mean, there were some "traditional" performances. But not really. <3.
The kids STOLE THE SHOW. They had drums, and sang, and were AWESOME. They're so talented! Everyone stood up and cheered. It was fantastic. Like a movie scene, but so much better. :-)
Got back to Daya Dan around eight. Back to Modern Lodge by 8:30, via walking and the subway. 15.5 hour day - not bad considering I prayed to be "thrown in." I was exhausted when I got back. Didn't work today. Felt reasonable. Instead, I went to the market with Amy. Bought five salwaar kameez sets. They're gorgeous. I've decided to completely ditch Western clothes while I'm here. Just Salwaar. I feel awkward in Western clothes. They're too tight. Also, I have an Indian accent when talking with Indians. Helps them understand me, and I feel better about speaking English. I've learned a bunch of Bangla - everyone looks so tickled when I speak it. I can see their faces soften. :-) And I'm only eating Indian food, except the occasional granola bar. And I'm taking cold showers, and bathrooming in a hole-in-the-floor toilet. I'm so happy. :-) :-) :-)
The market today was amazing. I cannot say enough about it. It felt like the floating market from Neverwhere. Stall after stall after stall - had to say nehchehheeay a gazillion times. It means "do not need." Beggars all over. Some more legitimate than others. Kalim, our market-helping man, is such a sweetie. I bought embroidery floss (84 rupees for a bunch - maybe 15 colours?) and we made a bracelet together. :-) Martin, my tailor, is amazing. We sat in the shop for two, three, hours. He's making my salwaar by tomorrow, and dropping them off at the hostel for me. They're beautiful. I cannot explain the massive amounts of colour in that shop. Colours, patterns, material that's nearly impossible to find in America. Gorgeous. Why do we not wear these colours? Head to toe turquoise, orange, bright pink. It's beautiful. I bought lavender lace, olive green, turquoise, and burgundy salwaars. And a fancy one with a bunch of colours. I'm so excited. While choosing materials, the counter was piled three feet high with cloth - that's normal. It's supposed to take hours. I've found my shopping home. :-) Martin measured me there. Making my salwaars especially for me. Amy and I bartered the price waaaaaaay down. I love India.
Then the jewelery shop (for Amy) and the bakery to buy sweets for the children. And then back to the hostel.
I love India.
I'll get photos as soon as I can.
Okay, this took forever.
Done typing now.
Working again tomorrow.
I love those kids.
Thanks for your responses - they're lovely to read. :-)
God is so active here.
Love, drool-covered hand-holding, and hand sanitizer,
Stephanie
P.S. Matt went to Kalighat, the home for the destitute and the dying, today. Wow.
Gonna paraphrase from my journal entries again to start.
First off, after my blog post, I prayed this: "I did not like not moving today. Please throw me in tomorrow."
Oh goodness. Why do I pray these things...
Feel free to laugh at me for such a ridiculously exhaustion-inducing prayer.
Ten minutes later, I walked downstairs (from the roof), and met Amy. That's a link to her blog. Click it. She's AMAZING. 40 years old, six feet tall, been traveling for two years. Been EVERYWHERE. I had actually gotten in contact with her through her blog before I came here. I swiped her packing list, messaged her, and she gave me advice and what not. I talked with her for a loooong time two nights ago - and the next morning, woke up at 5:15 to go with her to mass at the Mother House. WOW. Literally, the mass that Mother Teresa went to when she was here. Saw Mother Teresa's tomb. Didn't go near it. Holy sight for some, creepy decomposing body in a box for others. Both for me. You know how I am with death.
Anyway, breakfast (chai, white bread, banana - remember that time I got addicted to chai at home, and now it's all they drink here? :-p) at the Mother House after mass, gave my email address to the priest, he will send me forwarded things he sends everyone. Then, a bus, an auto-rickshaw, and Daya Dan.
Daya Dan. Taking my journal entry. ... = skipping some writing. [clarification edits]
"1316 - Sunday 14 December 2008 (Daya Dan) - I'm lying on a pad [mattress] in the Daya Dan volunteer sleeproom. Wearing scrub pants, pink tank, white shirt bought from a booth [outside the market] with green stitching. Black bandanna. Black flip-flops. I fit. ... the scrubs are perfect. ... today has been exquisite. Went to bed @ 1ooish, ... woke up @ 500, went to mass, breakfast w/all the volunteers...they're all lovely. Amy and I rode the bus (5 rupees) to an autorickshaw to Daya Dan. Saw a dead man lying in the street. Weird. ... Walked into Daya Dan...Christmas music and 25 autistic, fetal-alcohol syndrome, wasting-away disease, blind AND autistic, "autistic" [many boys are clearly incorrectly diagnosed], epileptic, [cerebral palsy] boys, between 5-15 years old, running around an open room. Hitting. Drooling. Climbing. Laying on the floor. Amy introduced me to everyone ... for about ten minutes, I was sensory overloaded like whoa. Didn't feel like holding drool-covered hands. But [the constant call of] "auntie, auntie" got to me. I danced, walked around with, talked with nearly all of them [you know how I am with desperately trying to get every kid included - it was difficult, but possible]. One boy, Joy, maybe 7 or 8 [he's actually 5], was sitting against a wall rocking. Looking uncomfortable. I mean clearly, if you're a tiny autistic boy in a room full of movement and noise, you're gonna rock a little. Or a lot. I was instantly drawn to him...but a bunch of other, more energetic kids grabbed me away. I sat with Joy a few times - he didn't respond or literally pushed me away. We practiced songs, did children's mass - I helped a boy up the staris, came down and changed clothes and ate lunch. I fed Siban. Tiny, 3 maybe, NO muscle control. Took maybe and hour and a half. He could chew by himself, but occasionally (note: often) needed reminders and I had to hold his head up. I figured out, after he fell asleep while I was feeding him, that squeezing his foot wakes him up. Hehe. He's beautiful. Then I cleaned his face (mess panda) and I put him to bed. I may or may not have sang Sufjan to him. ...:-) "like a father to impress / like a mother's mourning dress / if you ever make a mess / i'll do anything for you" etc. and To Be Alone With You [i know those are about Jesus, and clearly I'm not even close to being Jesus - but they're pretty, and I like them] - gosh, he's adorable. Then I talked with Mongol a little. He's 15, really smart, but his body is disintegrating. ARGH! For lunch -rice (w/rocks :-)), yellow dahl, street samosas. Fanta. Water. W/Amy. Happy panda. :-) :-) :-). ... Okay, nearly naptime. The volunteers just ran in. And layed down. I love this. I love these people. I love this work. I love these children. I love this place. ... This. Is. Beautiful."
After the 15-minute nap, I was woken up by the noise from downstairs. The kids had woken up, Ankur had had a 5-minute grand mal seizure, and we were trying to dress the kids for their performance at the church. "Keeping an eye on AND dressing 25 mentally disabled kids = craziness. They were ALL OVER." It was fun, but RIDICULOUS. They kept running around and screeching. And Ankur was trying to recover, and the sisters wanted quiet for him. KLjdfjasiofdj! But wonderful. "Prince and I get along really well. He's the 18-year-old who is supposedly really violence." We talked for about an hour while the kids were getting ready. Well, "talked." He uses his own invented sign language. He needed the attention, because he hits people (hard) if there isn't someone with him. "And Rohib...man. He's awesome. Cerebral palsy ... but obviously really intelligent." This boy's eyes say it all - his brain functions normally. He's probably smarter than the average 15-year-old. But his body is contorted and doesn't move. He lies on the floor all day. He cannot speak. But I think he understands - I sit with him, and we talk. Him with his eyes, me with words, facial expression, and touch. He's wonderful.
The show at the cathedral - WOW. Maybe 30 church groups came to sing Christmas carols. In a place smack dab in the middle of the 10/40 window - wow. Four hours long. Everything in India moves slower and takes more time - I fit. :-) Groups sang, accomanied by synthesizers. So many repetitions of songs. It was craziness. Picture a bunch of Indian guys and girls, college-age, singing Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, with a synthesized techno beat, in a beautiful, ornate cathedral. FOR FOUR HOURS. I mean, there were some "traditional" performances. But not really. <3.
The kids STOLE THE SHOW. They had drums, and sang, and were AWESOME. They're so talented! Everyone stood up and cheered. It was fantastic. Like a movie scene, but so much better. :-)
Got back to Daya Dan around eight. Back to Modern Lodge by 8:30, via walking and the subway. 15.5 hour day - not bad considering I prayed to be "thrown in." I was exhausted when I got back. Didn't work today. Felt reasonable. Instead, I went to the market with Amy. Bought five salwaar kameez sets. They're gorgeous. I've decided to completely ditch Western clothes while I'm here. Just Salwaar. I feel awkward in Western clothes. They're too tight. Also, I have an Indian accent when talking with Indians. Helps them understand me, and I feel better about speaking English. I've learned a bunch of Bangla - everyone looks so tickled when I speak it. I can see their faces soften. :-) And I'm only eating Indian food, except the occasional granola bar. And I'm taking cold showers, and bathrooming in a hole-in-the-floor toilet. I'm so happy. :-) :-) :-)
The market today was amazing. I cannot say enough about it. It felt like the floating market from Neverwhere. Stall after stall after stall - had to say nehchehheeay a gazillion times. It means "do not need." Beggars all over. Some more legitimate than others. Kalim, our market-helping man, is such a sweetie. I bought embroidery floss (84 rupees for a bunch - maybe 15 colours?) and we made a bracelet together. :-) Martin, my tailor, is amazing. We sat in the shop for two, three, hours. He's making my salwaar by tomorrow, and dropping them off at the hostel for me. They're beautiful. I cannot explain the massive amounts of colour in that shop. Colours, patterns, material that's nearly impossible to find in America. Gorgeous. Why do we not wear these colours? Head to toe turquoise, orange, bright pink. It's beautiful. I bought lavender lace, olive green, turquoise, and burgundy salwaars. And a fancy one with a bunch of colours. I'm so excited. While choosing materials, the counter was piled three feet high with cloth - that's normal. It's supposed to take hours. I've found my shopping home. :-) Martin measured me there. Making my salwaars especially for me. Amy and I bartered the price waaaaaaay down. I love India.
Then the jewelery shop (for Amy) and the bakery to buy sweets for the children. And then back to the hostel.
I love India.
I'll get photos as soon as I can.
Okay, this took forever.
Done typing now.
Working again tomorrow.
I love those kids.
Thanks for your responses - they're lovely to read. :-)
God is so active here.
Love, drool-covered hand-holding, and hand sanitizer,
Stephanie
P.S. Matt went to Kalighat, the home for the destitute and the dying, today. Wow.
Saturday, December 13, 2008
day 2
Well, actually, I'm gonna start from last night.
Went to dinner with Australia and Ireland, and then stayed up talking with Germanyx2, Russia, and Seattle. Then talked with Spain for awhile. And then Italy. And then talked with Australia for an hour and a half (he's leaving Sunday...:-( ) and went to bed when Francex2, Seattle, and Australia started rolling giant hash joints.
It's probably weird that I refer to people by their countries, but their accents are easier to remember than their names.
Ireland is quite possibly the cutest girl ever. Ireland (Carmel) and Scott (Australia) make fun of each others' accents, which is silly, 'cause they're actually kind of similar. ...to me.
I'm gonna stick some journal exerpts on here from last night.
"I am here. I've been here for...10.5 hours. And it feels like I've lived here...in another life. There are people from Spain, Russia, Australia, Ireland, Italy, Germany, Holland, France...all living here, speaking English, eating, drinking, taking the same cool showers, peeing in the same holes in the floor. This. Is. Amazing. ... This place is so beautiful, so rich, so full of culture and life. Maybe I'm experiencing the backpacker life and not the Kolkata life. I saw the trash in the gutters. I felt the tug of children on the street. Is my heart hard? Am I dead? I thought God wanted me here, but why do I not feel the suffering? I mean...I feel...elated. Amazed. How do I focus on serving God (and people, obviously) here? In this city where 7-year-olds are getting raper, and us from Spain, Italy, Ireland, the States - we're sitting on a roof smoking joints. ... it's cheaper to smoke here than it is to eat..."
P.S., I didn't smoke. I'm still the Stephanie you all know. :-)
So...here's the thing. There is so much energy here, and I can't help but be positively gleeful. But then I feel awful about feeling gleeful, because there's so much suffering. But the thing is...you don't see the suffering as much as you see the colours, hear the music, smell the curry. So it's difficult to realize how much the city needs, when you're so enthralled by how much it has. And then I end up sitting on a roof at midnight, journaling, thinking about how beautiful it all is - listening to car horns and gunshots. I wish I realized the suffering more. Please pray that God completety breaks my heart for what breaks His. I don't want the illusion of backpacker life - I want to know the real Kolkata, and serve with continued joy, buy also a sense of complete reality. And I desire to keep the joy as a state of existance rather than as an emotion, and also be aware of, and actively alleviating, the suffering here.
Oh, P.S., Matt had an awesome day today. :-) He's a gazillion times more comfortable. Rather than starting work today, we slept - we needed it. I pushed myself way too much this past week. So we slept, got food, journaled, yep. I bought a skirt (200 rupees), pants (90 rupees), and a shirt (100 rupees). Bartered all those prices down. In Bangla. Nay-cheh-hee-ay mean "do not need." Use that one on the streets a lot.
Okay, all done.
This blog will not be updated this much every day, I promise. This beginning-post-a-day thing won't happen for much longer. :-)
Love and bangla,
Stephanie
Went to dinner with Australia and Ireland, and then stayed up talking with Germanyx2, Russia, and Seattle. Then talked with Spain for awhile. And then Italy. And then talked with Australia for an hour and a half (he's leaving Sunday...:-( ) and went to bed when Francex2, Seattle, and Australia started rolling giant hash joints.
It's probably weird that I refer to people by their countries, but their accents are easier to remember than their names.
Ireland is quite possibly the cutest girl ever. Ireland (Carmel) and Scott (Australia) make fun of each others' accents, which is silly, 'cause they're actually kind of similar. ...to me.
I'm gonna stick some journal exerpts on here from last night.
"I am here. I've been here for...10.5 hours. And it feels like I've lived here...in another life. There are people from Spain, Russia, Australia, Ireland, Italy, Germany, Holland, France...all living here, speaking English, eating, drinking, taking the same cool showers, peeing in the same holes in the floor. This. Is. Amazing. ... This place is so beautiful, so rich, so full of culture and life. Maybe I'm experiencing the backpacker life and not the Kolkata life. I saw the trash in the gutters. I felt the tug of children on the street. Is my heart hard? Am I dead? I thought God wanted me here, but why do I not feel the suffering? I mean...I feel...elated. Amazed. How do I focus on serving God (and people, obviously) here? In this city where 7-year-olds are getting raper, and us from Spain, Italy, Ireland, the States - we're sitting on a roof smoking joints. ... it's cheaper to smoke here than it is to eat..."
P.S., I didn't smoke. I'm still the Stephanie you all know. :-)
So...here's the thing. There is so much energy here, and I can't help but be positively gleeful. But then I feel awful about feeling gleeful, because there's so much suffering. But the thing is...you don't see the suffering as much as you see the colours, hear the music, smell the curry. So it's difficult to realize how much the city needs, when you're so enthralled by how much it has. And then I end up sitting on a roof at midnight, journaling, thinking about how beautiful it all is - listening to car horns and gunshots. I wish I realized the suffering more. Please pray that God completety breaks my heart for what breaks His. I don't want the illusion of backpacker life - I want to know the real Kolkata, and serve with continued joy, buy also a sense of complete reality. And I desire to keep the joy as a state of existance rather than as an emotion, and also be aware of, and actively alleviating, the suffering here.
Oh, P.S., Matt had an awesome day today. :-) He's a gazillion times more comfortable. Rather than starting work today, we slept - we needed it. I pushed myself way too much this past week. So we slept, got food, journaled, yep. I bought a skirt (200 rupees), pants (90 rupees), and a shirt (100 rupees). Bartered all those prices down. In Bangla. Nay-cheh-hee-ay mean "do not need." Use that one on the streets a lot.
Okay, all done.
This blog will not be updated this much every day, I promise. This beginning-post-a-day thing won't happen for much longer. :-)
Love and bangla,
Stephanie
Friday, December 12, 2008
Aqui!
Hello! I'm here. Ate food. Drank bottled water. Broke the seal on the water so I knew it was safe. Staying at Modern Lodge - 200 rupees per night, total. Which means it's really only 100 per night. It's a nice room.
Actually, it's only ten rupees for a half hour of computer usage, so I'm going to stop typing like it's a telegraph.
Anyway! I'm HERE!! The flights were great! Last night, we stayed over in the New Delhi airport. We met a group of missionaries - they're working in Nagaland, running schools and teaching kids so they can know enough to earn scholarships and go to larger schools. Awesome. :-) Actually, we've met and gotten to know a lot of people - from Spain, France, Australia - yeah. It's wonderful. My tiny bits of French and Spanish are helping. :-)
Prof. Hatcher - if you're reading this, you were completely right about language immersion = fast learning. I literally learned the entire Bangla alphabet in the taxi on the way from the airport. Hooray!
So...there are people everywhere. OMIGOSH I almost forgot!! We got here in time to go to orientation at the Mother House. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH AWESOMENESS!! I'm going to be working at Daya Dan, a home for older children / teenagers with physical and mental disabilities. I get to be a teacher. I don't know what that means yet, but I'm SO EXCITED!!! I start tomorrow morning. HOORAY!!
Anyway, I should go check my email and such, so I'm going to leave you with that.
Oh wait.
Just so you know.
I got lost today coming back from the Mother House. And people were really, really helpful. And now I'm back. So I know what happens when I get lost. Not that I'm planning on getting lost again. And! Be proud, Dad. There are children grabbing at me for money all over the place, and I haven't given them anything. It's sad. But we spent a long time at orientation learning about how giving people money encourages them to not become self-sufficient. Because most of them actually have money, and they're professional beggars.
I just typed this all in ten minutes. Hooray!
I haven't showered in two days. Proud of me, Domtar?
Okay, all done.
Love,
Stephanie
P.S. I'm so happy here, that I cannot put it into words. Thanks for being so supportive. I start working tomorrow. :-)
P.P.S. It's freaking hot. And freaking freaking humid. I need thinner clothing.
P.P.P.S. Prayer request: my friend Matt, who's traveling with me, is super-nervous about being here. Please pray for 1. safety, so he doesn't have to be so actively worried, 2. peace - like what Paul writes in Philippians 4 about not being anxious and presenting all requests to God - that transcends understanding, 3. that I would know how to be comforting, practical, and my usual ridiculously enthusiastic self all at the same time. Yes, I'm nervous, but I'm very confident in God's protection and provision, so it comes across as brash boldness. 4. Most importantly, the people of Kolkata. There's a lot of good going on here, and it's a beautiful city and culture. But there's also a lot of crap going on. Kids being used to get money for drugs, sex trafficking, a LOT of street kids. Please pray that God would provide for them, and that they would somehow be able to get off the streets and become independent.
Okay, now I've typed for 20 minutes. Sorry if this was repetitive. I'm not gonna read through it, because we need to go eat a safe, cooked dinner, made without contaminated water. Promise. :-)
Yes, I'm taking my malaria meds.
Love and samosas,
Stephanie
Actually, it's only ten rupees for a half hour of computer usage, so I'm going to stop typing like it's a telegraph.
Anyway! I'm HERE!! The flights were great! Last night, we stayed over in the New Delhi airport. We met a group of missionaries - they're working in Nagaland, running schools and teaching kids so they can know enough to earn scholarships and go to larger schools. Awesome. :-) Actually, we've met and gotten to know a lot of people - from Spain, France, Australia - yeah. It's wonderful. My tiny bits of French and Spanish are helping. :-)
Prof. Hatcher - if you're reading this, you were completely right about language immersion = fast learning. I literally learned the entire Bangla alphabet in the taxi on the way from the airport. Hooray!
So...there are people everywhere. OMIGOSH I almost forgot!! We got here in time to go to orientation at the Mother House. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH AWESOMENESS!! I'm going to be working at Daya Dan, a home for older children / teenagers with physical and mental disabilities. I get to be a teacher. I don't know what that means yet, but I'm SO EXCITED!!! I start tomorrow morning. HOORAY!!
Anyway, I should go check my email and such, so I'm going to leave you with that.
Oh wait.
Just so you know.
I got lost today coming back from the Mother House. And people were really, really helpful. And now I'm back. So I know what happens when I get lost. Not that I'm planning on getting lost again. And! Be proud, Dad. There are children grabbing at me for money all over the place, and I haven't given them anything. It's sad. But we spent a long time at orientation learning about how giving people money encourages them to not become self-sufficient. Because most of them actually have money, and they're professional beggars.
I just typed this all in ten minutes. Hooray!
I haven't showered in two days. Proud of me, Domtar?
Okay, all done.
Love,
Stephanie
P.S. I'm so happy here, that I cannot put it into words. Thanks for being so supportive. I start working tomorrow. :-)
P.P.S. It's freaking hot. And freaking freaking humid. I need thinner clothing.
P.P.P.S. Prayer request: my friend Matt, who's traveling with me, is super-nervous about being here. Please pray for 1. safety, so he doesn't have to be so actively worried, 2. peace - like what Paul writes in Philippians 4 about not being anxious and presenting all requests to God - that transcends understanding, 3. that I would know how to be comforting, practical, and my usual ridiculously enthusiastic self all at the same time. Yes, I'm nervous, but I'm very confident in God's protection and provision, so it comes across as brash boldness. 4. Most importantly, the people of Kolkata. There's a lot of good going on here, and it's a beautiful city and culture. But there's also a lot of crap going on. Kids being used to get money for drugs, sex trafficking, a LOT of street kids. Please pray that God would provide for them, and that they would somehow be able to get off the streets and become independent.
Okay, now I've typed for 20 minutes. Sorry if this was repetitive. I'm not gonna read through it, because we need to go eat a safe, cooked dinner, made without contaminated water. Promise. :-)
Yes, I'm taking my malaria meds.
Love and samosas,
Stephanie
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Sunday, December 7, 2008
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First off, this is cute:
Secondly,
3 days.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Okay, that's all.
Time to do more homework. :-)
Love,
Stephanie
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH
HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
First off, this is cute:
Secondly,
3 days.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Okay, that's all.
Time to do more homework. :-)
Love,
Stephanie
Friday, December 5, 2008
আগ্রহান্বিত
My Facebook status currently says "Stephanie is আগ্রহান্বিত."
আগ্রহান্বিত --> Bengali for "eager; zealous; intent; intently desirous; inclined (to); wistful."
I honestly can't read every consonant in it, but it's something like ag...in.....yeah. I know some letters. Working on it.
Anyway, finals are next week. I'm done with classes right now. Literally just finished. The work I have to turn in gets turned in on Monday, or emailed over the weekend if I'm ambitious. School is almost done.
It's strange. My last practical criticism class was today. I'm gonna miss that class. I don't think I appreciated it enough while I was still in it. Oh well. I took good notes.
India in five days.
India in five days.
India in five days.
To do:
Open Citibank account.
Get traveler's checks.
Pick up work checks.
Deposit work checks.
Start taking malaria meds so I don't turn into mosquito-woman.
Find out what malaria does so I don't continue to think of it as something that might turn me into a superhero.
Pack (ha).
Learn Bangla.
Sorry, this post isn't very inspirational. It's really just me keeping a record of what I need to do before I leave.
Oh, and pray. I've been doing that, a lot. Not enough, but a lot. I've been told by about five different people in the past week that spiritual warfare is going on like whoa in India, specifically Kolkata, right now. I don't mean literal physical violence - I mean, people are actually doing exorcisms and stuff. There's so much idolatry that demon possession happens all the time. And then exorcisms happen. And demons leave. Lldksfjaljfdslkj!
If you're reading this right now, please pray for India.
Thanks. :-)
Love,
Stephanie
আগ্রহান্বিত --> Bengali for "eager; zealous; intent; intently desirous; inclined (to); wistful."
I honestly can't read every consonant in it, but it's something like ag...in.....yeah. I know some letters. Working on it.
Anyway, finals are next week. I'm done with classes right now. Literally just finished. The work I have to turn in gets turned in on Monday, or emailed over the weekend if I'm ambitious. School is almost done.
It's strange. My last practical criticism class was today. I'm gonna miss that class. I don't think I appreciated it enough while I was still in it. Oh well. I took good notes.
India in five days.
India in five days.
India in five days.
To do:
Open Citibank account.
Get traveler's checks.
Pick up work checks.
Deposit work checks.
Start taking malaria meds so I don't turn into mosquito-woman.
Find out what malaria does so I don't continue to think of it as something that might turn me into a superhero.
Pack (ha).
Learn Bangla.
Sorry, this post isn't very inspirational. It's really just me keeping a record of what I need to do before I leave.
Oh, and pray. I've been doing that, a lot. Not enough, but a lot. I've been told by about five different people in the past week that spiritual warfare is going on like whoa in India, specifically Kolkata, right now. I don't mean literal physical violence - I mean, people are actually doing exorcisms and stuff. There's so much idolatry that demon possession happens all the time. And then exorcisms happen. And demons leave. Lldksfjaljfdslkj!
If you're reading this right now, please pray for India.
Thanks. :-)
Love,
Stephanie
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)