The Final Chapter

Here I am, back from my adventure and adjusting to reversing my sleep schedule, eating olives, and visiting with family and friends! What an amazing experience Maher and India was. I feel different and doubt things will ever truly be the same. I am glad that I chose to really cram my last week or so with activity and worry about this last blog after it was over. And cram I did!
Right after my last blog entry, I was in a rickshaw going someplace or another when my stomach gurgled in that particular way... the way it has before very, very bad things happen. I immediately stopped eating anything spicy or greasy and hoped my stomach would hold steady. It did, but the ominous threatening feeling didn't really go away after two days, so I went to the doctor. I was also tired of people asking me "Why are you sick?" and "You should take care of yourself." Indeed- WHY was I sick? If I was anymore careful about my health,  I'd be in a plastic bubble. So, off to the doctor I went. He asked a lot of questions and took all my vitals. He ordered a series of tests to be done, from blood work to a COLOR Doppler ultrasound thingy of my stomach. It's so amazing how quickly and cheaply all this could be done. While waiting for the ultrasound, I noticed a big sign hanging outside the door:"Fetal sex determination is illegal." Wow. I knew about the problems in India with aborting female babies, but here was a sign to prove it. The actual ultrasound on my stomach reveled only my lunch, but I found the experience fun anyway. The doctor sent me off with assorted medicines that eventually made me feel better. I think it is something in the food my body can't deal with well, a bacteria or something. I was just glad I wasn't going to be sick and vomiting my last week. I kept on teaching.
A new volunteer showed up from South Africa. Her name is Sarah and she will be taking over my English classes and guitar classes! How nice to see them continue on,  and to pass on all that I have learned about  teaching English. I wish someone had told me a few things before I started: hints on discipline (not that I'm very good at that), game ideas, what works, what doesn't, motivation, etc. I think Sarah will do an excellent job. The children really seem to like her, and I think she scored some extra points with them by being able to dance. They LOVE dance.
Tuesday evening was my goodbye party/hello to the new guests. It started with a prayer ceremony that must have been designed to make me cry. I had been trying to put the crying off till the day I left, but it started early at this prayer thingy. After a beautiful prayer song, different children got up and thanked me for all the teaching I have done. Then it got quiet and I knew they wanted me to say something, but this was close to impossible. I managed to squeak out a thank you to everyone before I got too choked up but that was all. Try and give a speech when you are crying- its ridiculous! I then said, "Okay. Can we do something happy now?" We all went outside to the constructed stage. The children put on a big dance program for everyone. It's always fun to watch their energetic dances. At the end they called up all the "foreigners" and basically asked us all to return the favor and entertain them. Country by country, they blasted dance music and we performed. South Africa did a line dance that apparently everyone there knows. France (just Stephen) emptied his pockets and busted out his best Capoiera moves. Germany and Austria did a Waltz that was so bad it was good. Kenya did a flail some freak out dance. England did the twist. And the US? We did a swing dance. Thank God Will can lead. After we were finished it erupted into one big dance party, and I didn't even need to pull the girls out on the dance floor. We danced with wild abandon, myself included. When you leave the next day from a place as powerful as Maher, what do you hold back at  time like that? The dancing went relatively late, even with school being the next day. It was the best goodbye ever.
I kept on teaching up till the very last day. My last classes were really fun- I made them all games and treats so they could be a celebration. I gave them a snack mix that was so spicy that I couldn't eat it and they just gobbled it up- that and some Oreo rip-offs that didn't have enough filling, in my opinion. Wednesday morning was my last class, which was huge and incredibly fun. We finished by all singing Twist and Shout while I played the guitar. It took 25 minutes for me to get them out of the classroom. They all wanted to say goodbye, or beg me to stay and keep teaching English. I was very moved, but needed to get them moved out so I could start packing- I left in only a few hours, but had yet to pack! The next few hours I spent packing. I was okay with it too because I was just too emotionally spent to say goodbye anymore. I hate goodbye, and I had been saying it since the day before. I was ready. There were lots of hugs and goodbyes but this time I didn't cry too much till the car drove away.
SO here I am, back on WhidbeyMaher. My heart will always be there. I am so thankful to have had such an amazing experience. Can I walk away from it? Naw. I want to continue helping. Stay tuned for fundraising efforts. Plus, four of the older students will be (hopefully) coming over here to the States to go to school for a year in Bellingham. We are talking cream-of-the-crop individuals too- some of the most delightful young people I have ever met. I would love to stay involved with that.
Thank you for sharing in my experience of Maher and India!!!!!
Namaste

Lots of Dancing and kicking

The past week had been really nice. I settle more and more into Maher and India, just in time to leave. I really feel more adjusted. I get around on my own now too, if needed. Classes have been going well. I use what I call a "carrot" at the beginning of my rowdy classes. The carrot is a promise of fun to come if they mind their P's and Q's, usually a game or a song. I have one class that adores singing "Twist and Shout". I like the way they say "shake it a-baby". This week I have also continued getting up before the sun rises to do Tikwando or Capoeira. Then I stretch a long while or do yoga before going to take a cold bucket bath. There was one amazing morning with Stephane when he told me he could Salsa. I remember the steps, he's an amazing lead, and we spent that morning Salsa-ing our butts off, again while the sun rose. I had a moment where I couldn't stop laughing, thinking how funny it to do Salsa dancing in India with a man from France. My feet have been killing me from the blisters but besides that I feel really great.
Earlier this week I had a great experience shopping in the posh part of town. I found a guitar tuner and books to give my guitar students when I leave. We went into a MALL and bought books too. A real mall, so mall-like that I didn't feel like I was in India. I didn't really like the mall, but I was able to find some books on learning English. We also visited a huge supermarket. I was skipping through the isles, reading this label and that, wishing I could take more home. India is cheap too- till you buy too much stuff. I am getting better at bargaining too. It used to be that it felt wrong to haggle over a price, but now I'm really taking to it. I get really proud when I get them to drop their prices way down. As a white foreigner, they start the price at at least double its value most the time, and I know that. I had fun getting some great gifts.
Yesterday was Maher's 14th Anniversary celebration, and Pinky's (one of the house mother's) wedding. What a fun filled day!! It was busy from the get-go. As we walked to breakfast, garlands of marigold flowers were being strung up all over the place: the stage, the gates, the big main building, and all the doorways. The colorful canopies that I love so much were put up over the stage and next to the building that has the kitchen. Even more marigolds were torn so that there were bags of flower petals to throw and use during the ceremony in the wedding (traditionally, rice is thrown in abundance as a symbol of prosperity, but as it is Maher AND a waste of food, flower petals were chosen instead.) After a fantastic breakfast of Poha (beaten rice cooked with peanuts, tomatoes and spices) coconut, Chapatti, and a small cheese wedge, we got busy too. We took pictures for Lucy of all the preparations. Women were cooking a kind of fried chapatti that I can't remember the name of. Huge pots of potato, chickpea, and paneer curry were being stirred with utensils big enough to be oars for a boat. Lots of Marathi was being yelled and there about how everything should be done. Then it was time to have someone help put me in my sari. I have worn a sari now quite a few times, but the process of getting the folds just so is really hard. You don't just wind the yards and yards of fabric around you: its an art. Once wrapped up like a present, we rushed back for in time to see Pinky getting smudged with what looked like mustard. It's turmeric, and its done as a tradition. We got smudged too. I smelt like curry. Soon after washing my face, the car from Vatsyladam pulled up and Stephane and Toby rolled out, fully dressed like Indian men. Toby even wore the traditional what hat, which made him look like he was ready to sell hot dogs.
How many weddings have I seen since I have been in India? I'm loosing count. Pinky's wedding was extra special since it was a Maher wedding. It still was done the Hindu way: she was dressed beautifully, henna on her feet and hands, the blanket between them, the ceremonial fire (inside!), coconut, and walking around the fire as man and wife. But Sister Lucy acted as the mother of Pinky. Its bittersweet to see her marry. She is leaving to live with her husband. I will miss her singing and tabla playing. Its a time of celebration and sadness.
The afternoon had alot of down time, which we filled up quickly. They had set up the music and microphones and began to play music. ANYtime music is played, the boys dance. They dance with each other, energetically, and I always get a kick out of it. The girls huddle on the sides and insist that they can't dance because the boys hog the dance floor, which is BS. The culture is different. I began dancing. I could care less. Everything I do in India is subject to a crowd of people watching. I have, in the last month, accepted that. I am a strange and fascinating creature. Best that not ruin any of my fun. My goal was to have fun and to DRAG the girls out to dance, which I did. They felt more secure if we all did the same dance and/or stood in a circle. So I danced for quite a while, which was quite a test for my sari. Then the boys drug me off to their side to dance. The boys' dances are much more fun. They are in a frenzy!
The Maher ceremony was nice. There were hundreds of people there. It started with awards and speeches. Then performances from children singing, dancing, and doing tikwando. And then... me. I was supposed to play "Bright Sunny Day" on my guitar. I was nervous about it, but being that it isn't the first time I have played to a crowd, and the fact that most people wouldn't know the words, I felt better. I have placed my WELL TUNED guitar by the stage where they said and sat down to enjoy the program. As I got on stage to play, I saw that a small child had my guitar and no one had stopped him from playing with it. I tried to check the tuning, but could not over the booming of the music from the current performance. Worst performance of my entire life. The child had played with the tuning pegs. The sourness of the guitar mixed with feed back from the microphone, and although my singing was okay, I crawled off the stage, defeated. I was happy there was another dance party directly after. I shook off the sour notes.
It's eleven days till I leave and I will cry my eyes out. It's true that I am excited to go home and see family and friends. And eat some olives and cheese. But oh how I love these people!!!!! The children... what can I say? They are so easy to love. Even the ones that are really naughty. It will be hard to leave, but I know its time. I can continue to help Maher from the states. I can never forget this place.