Inside a Rally

I stared out the front windshield of our car at the bumper of the bus in front of us and read, for perhaps the 15^th time in the last 10 minutes, the red block letters that proclaimed, “Sealda”. What that means I couldn’t tell you. I then looked around the car as Ashok, our driver, paced outside the window as Shikha talked to Bethany out the window while Stacey proceeded to have a full conversation with the rest of the car with her eyes closed because it “made her headache feel better”. The other half of the group that was in the car next to us stood outside their car and shifted their weight from foot to foot as they scanned the cars around us. Oh, and all of this was happening in the middle of the road, and by road, I mean something more akin to a parking lot. We were on a bridge in beyond bumper-to-bumper traffic and if we knew one thing and one thing only it was that we were stuck. This was at about 12:00pm so let’s rewind to how all of this started.

We started out this weekend by planning a trip to go to see the Marble Palace and the Tagore family house. After a long week, we were al ready to get out and explore the city and then got back to Transit House at a reasonable time so that we could take naps and work on our projects. It had been awhile since something had gone terribly awry so I think all of us were lulled into a sense of security that centered around the mindset that we were finally “able to predict India”. India chose today to remind us all that predicting it is about as easy as predicting Lady Gaga’s next outfit, you never know WHAT is going to show up.

As we set out on the road we noticed more traffic than usual but thought nothing of it since it was a weekend and a pretty nice day out at the time. It wasn’t until we had gotten about 10 minutes away from Transit House that we started to ask questions to each other about the increased flow of foot traffic, louder than usual speakers, and the springing up of new Indian flags all over the city. Luckily, I had Shikha in my car who proved yet again to be an invaluable resource as she asked Ashok what was going on. It was at this point that he told us that a political rally was going on for the lady in charge of West Bengal. Fine, I thought, I’ve been through rally traffic before, living near to the mess of a city known as Los Angeles, this will delay us a bit but it shouldn’t be TOO bad. When Shikha asked Ashok what he thought this would do to our time schedule for the day he responded with an all too knowing laugh. As uneasy silence then filled the car and we looked around at each other, Ashok said (translated by Shikha) “Slowly, slowly the city of Calcutta will become completely blocked”. Uh-oh we though, but at this point it seemed a waste to turn back because we already had permission to go to Marble Palace this day and we were already half way there.

We continued on to the Marble Palace and made it there with minimal issues and had an awe-inspiring walk around this amazing house. The house itself was built in 1835 and, for a lack of a better term, is a building in which anything you could ever want built in marble is. Bust of George Washington? Check. Greek gods? Check. Entire flooring built of Italian marble? Check. Not only was there all that marble but there was also tons and tons of assorted finery. There were gold statues, chandeliers, beautiful paintings, floor to ceiling mirrors, and even a cage with parrots. All of this was thrown with out any apparent rhyme or reason into this mansion in which the owners still live. After we saw the inside of the house we decided to go see the menagerie. After trotting past the peacocks we saw a giant squirrel, a pheasant, and finally came to an open enclosure with a large, light pink bird. Sean and Charles immediately ran over to “photo-bomb” the pictures of the bird with bunny ears but as soon as they got within 5 feet of the bird it swung it s enormous head around to face them and let out a sound that was unlike anything I have ever heard before. If I had to make a comparison I would say it was a mix between a lighthouse foghorn and an air horn. I don’t think I have ever seen two people run as fast as I saw Charles and Sean do after that noise. After seeing the animals we all piled back into the cars to head over to the Tagore house.  The house was kept up very well and it was amazing to be able to walk through an area of such historical significance.

Once we left the Tagore house, Ashok said that it would be a good idea to take the metro home but the traffic seemed fine so we decided that it should be ok to stay in the car. Well… We may not have gotten the car ride that we expected but I learned a lot of things on out 2 ½ hour ride home.

1.     Never get sick during a political rally. When I say the cars were at a standstill I mean ALL the cars. That includes fire engines and ambulances. We all watched as some poor person tried to get to the hospital in an ambulance only to get stuck on our same bridge for 30 minutes.

2.     When people stare at you, don’t stare back. You know when you look out the window of a car and make eye contact with a person for a brief second and then they (or you) speed away? Well, here, if you made eye contact with someone you had better hope that you like them because chances are you will be stuck next to them for the next 20 minutes. I made awkward eye contact with a man in a dark green shirt in the bus next to us and instead of looking directly away I accidentally continued to look it his extravagant mustache. Bad choice. I was stuck next to mustache man for the next 15 minutes, feeling his eyes bore into the side of my face as he continued to look at me.

3.     Things are what you make of them. Yes, we were stuck in a car for 2 and ½ hours on a day that was supposed to be our break day. This fact, however, was not going to change so Shikha, Michelle, Stacey, Tierney, Amber and I (the whole group in Ashok’s car) decided to make the best of this. We had some amazing conversations that ranged from musicals to body image to Duke in general and it made the time go by faster than I could have imagined.

4.     Ashok is hilarious. As we were driving, Ashok was telling Shikha in Hindi that going out during a political rally was “very bad” and that our “program” (schedule) for the day was unbelievable. He said all of this with his usual smile and then went so far as to wave the piece of paper out the window at Bethany (our current site coordinator not that Baishakhi is gone) and shout “Bad!”. Our car burst out giggling and shook our heads.

5.     Political rallies in India are CHAOTIC. The streets were filled with men (it was mostly men that were out, not women) who were shouting, waving sticks as they tried to direct traffic, cramming themselves 10 at a time into 4 person cars, sweating, arguing, and waving Indian flags. This site was one that I am so glad that I got to see because we have been removed so far from the political scene. The best part was that I felt safe sitting in the car but I got to see the literal inside of a rally.

6.     There probably isn’t a group of people that I would rather get stuck in traffic with. The five other girls I was in the car with and I had a great time and even when I felt a little frustrated at the situation they helped bring me up and made me appreciate the amazing opportunity that this “accident” had thrown us into.

After we finally got back to Transit House after the ride (ok, after we finally got back to Transit House after the ride and a trip to get us all chicken rolls to eat…) we still were able to have a relaxing afternoon. It’s opportunities/accidents like these that make India the place that it is. A place of chaos mixed with beauty, fervor mixed with ancient culture, and inefficiency mixed with generosity. Most of all, it make it a place that I am so glad to be spending 8 weeks of my summer. 

My Kids

I FINALLY got permission from my teacher and some of the kid's parents to take pictures of them. The following are four boys who I work with in my morning class from 10-11 Monday through Friday. There are also two girls and another boy who are in the class but one of the girls was sick while the other boy was out of town and the second girl was taking a nap in class so I figured I would wait till I could get a better picture. 

I really look forward to my morning class. It is the same kids every day (unlike my afternoon class) and even though they usually hate me when I am making them do puzzles or color, there are times when we are together that they show me in small ways that I am making a difference. The class is set up in a cubicle with blue faded mats on the floor. Everyday I walk up, take off my sandals and worm my way onto the floor of the small room. There are usually 5-7 kids and their mothers along with me and the teacher in a room the size of a large bathroom. As I sweat it out on the floor (there is no AC and the fans go on and off with the power outages) I spend time working individually with the different kids and helping them to learn how to take turns without killing each other. 

I am going to have to write a different blog post about the mothers and teachers that I interact with because they are an absolute hoot. Lets just say that half of them are trying to find me a husband while the other half seem intent on feeding me so many sweets that I feel like I am turning into a Gulab Jamun (some sort of fried, sweet, delicious ball of wonder). Anyways, that is for another night so without further adieu I present my boys:

Shom

 This little boy is the most high functioning boy in my class. He is usually content just sitting by himself bouncing up and down in his little desk. He is one of the kids, however, who gets really antsy when he is away from his mother. Last week we had computer class and since the room is so small that mothers do not go with the kids so it was just me, the teacher Shukanya, and three of the little boys including Shom. When we got into the room, Shom became visibly upset and kept trying to climb out the door. Then, as I sat in to corner in a small chair, Shom came over and climbed into my lap, grabbing my hand to hold along the way. This was the first time that any of the kids showed my physical affection and to say it made my day would be the understatement of the century. As I bounced him on my lap and sang twinkle twinkle little softly in his ear he began to quiet and was calm for the rest of the class. Another thing I love about this little munchkin is when he does his puzzles. After putting in each piece he looks at me with a small smile to get some affirmation. After having to physically drag some kid's hands to and from each puzzle piece it is nice to go over to him.

Ashmit

This picture might look a little strange but in reality it is Ashmit's favorite activity: spinning a plate. This guy would be as happy as could be if everyone let him just sit by himself and spin that little metal plate until the end of time. His second favorite thing is when we go in the sensory room. This is a air conditioned room that is an Autistic child's dream. There are music toys, yoga balls, and in the very back, an infinite mirror. This is a mirror with flashing lights that when you look into it appears to go back forever. Ashmit will spend the full thirty minutes in from of this mirror giggling and flapping his arms as if he just won the lottery. No matter what kind of morning I have had so far watching his happy dance never fails to put a smile on my face. The other funny thing about this kid is that every time we go to dance class or yoga class or music class the phrase that it heard at least 3 times is "Someone grab Ashmit!" He likes to escape, and by escape I mean run like a little gumbie out of the room on wobbly legs. 

Shyak

This picture of Shyak was taken as he peeked around me to watch Ashmit spin his plate. This kid cracks me up. Every time that we do the animal puzzle he insists on meowing like the cat and barking like a dog and "walking" the pieces into their spots. He has also gotten into the habit of holding my hand every time we walk to dance or yoga class and even though I have to stoop over a bit since he is so small I always have a grin on my face when we walk into the room hand in hand. One of my favorite memories from Manovikas so far was one day when I said "ta-ta" (how they say goodbye here)  to Shyak and he unexpectedly said it back to me. This is from a kid that is almost completely nonverbal. I was speechless as I watched his skinny frame walk out the room and Shukanya just patten my shoulder, knowing that words couldn't express what I was feeling. 

 Mrinmoy

This is Mrinmoy during his "tiffin time"eating sweet biscuit cookies. Unfortunately, like many Autistic kids, he has a few bad habits. The most prominent of these is throwing. At any given time during the class it is not unusual to see a puzzle piece go flying by one's face (of if you are more unlucky, feel it whack your face). Anything and everything that this kid can get his hands on will go hurdling across the room. He also really likes to "stimm" by looking up at the ceiling while shaking his head and singing. During music class he usually sits in my lap so that he won't get up and try to throw the instruments and he loves it when I help him clap his hands to the beat.


I'm not going to lie, there are definitely day when I come home from Manovikas and wonder why I am here. I sit all day with kids that for the most part hardly seem to know that I am there or cry every time I make them do their work. They are all almost totally nonverbal and are more apt to throw a puzzle at your face than give you a smile but I can't help but love them. One small littel gesture of kindness or recognition can make up for hours of frustration and I am already starting to feel sad knowing that I am going to leave them in less than four weeks.

Family Dinner

When I found out that I had been chosen to participate in this program in early December I did what any college kid would: I immediately looked at the other names that the email was sent to and stalked each and every one of them on Facebook. As I looked through everyone’s pictures I quickly realized that while I knew of many of the people and would consider several of them acquaintances, I was definitely not friends with any of them. After a few group meetings in Baishakhi’s room laughing over sandwiches or pizza I found myself really looking forward to getting to know these 10 strangers. It was obvious that we were all different, there were 4 different sororities represented, one fraternity, three selective living groups, different dance groups, club sports, and multiple different friend groups but that no matter what background we came from there was one link between us, the desire to serve the community of Kolkata. Sitting with Michelle and Celina in the LAX before we got onto our flight to Dubai we discussed how it was amazing that we were about to spend more time with people we hardly knew than we had with some of our closest friends. The thought both excited and frightened me.

Flash forward almost four weeks, three more plane flights, hours sitting in a car on bumpy roads, one taxi ride, hundreds of stares from strangers, several gallons of sweat, and hours of furious typing later it is 8:30pm and we are getting ready to have dinner. The boy’s room became the designated dinner room from day one and after a few weeks we have finally moved the furniture around into the optimal position to eat food. There are three large armchairs, one couch that seats 3, an end table that is used as another seat and those left without seats perch on arm rests or sprawl out on the floor. We all huddle around the brown coffee table that is always overflowing with bowl after bowl of home cooked food. The Manovikas and Tulipdale kids get home before the Future Hope kids but we always wait till they get home so as to make sure that no one feels left out. The second we hear their voices drift up the stairs from the first floor we all reach for plates and silverware, ready to dig in.

Dinner is one of my favorite parts of this trip and it is not only because of the amazing (and spicy!) dishes that the Transit house cooks us. It is the company. We came into this life-changing trip being complete strangers but if anyone watched us as we sat around in a circle sharing food and passing napkins they would never guess that only 6 weeks before we would often pass each other at school and not even say hi. Over the exclamations of what foods we think are the best on a particular night there is always the overtone of someone laughing. I don’t know if I have ever smiled as much as I have on this trip. I can honestly say that each and every person on this trip has surprised me in some amazing way and it is only the fourth week.

I have begun to call dinner “family dinner” because that is actually how I feel. I grew up in a family with a severely Autistic brother so I never really got to exerience normal family dinners since mine were usually filled with screaming or nonexistent since 5-7pm are usually filled with my brother’s in-home therapists. This doesn’t mean that I have never had a dinner with my family but it was honestly never really anything I would look forward to. Here, we go around every night and tell some of the things that happened to us at “work”. Every time Michelle does her impression of the teacher’s at Tulipdale scolding a child or Sean describes the daily dose of antics that a particularly naughty child named Animesh did that day I can’t help but laugh. We are a group of people who could literally sit in a room and talk about anything and not get bored, and we do. It is an amazing feeling to be able to have conversations with people my age about politics, religion, pop culture, gender roles, and even Harry Potter without ever feeling attacked or bored. As we share experiences and opinions over pieces of chicken tika and bowls of sliced mango we are creating a bond that I know will stay with us for life.

When Baishakhi said to us in January “Do not expect this to be easy. After all, you are going to India in the middle of the summer” I don’t think I really understood what that meant. Now that I truly understand the weight of her words I couldn’t be more grateful to have this spectacular group of young men and women to go through these experiences. 6 weeks ago we were basically strangers but now as I joke with Lindsay over our massive consumption of mango and watch as Stacey demonstrates one of the songs that they learned at Tulipdale while simultaneously teasing Sean about his fear of “non-domesticated animals” it becomes obvious to me that not only are we now friends, we are a family. A quirky family it may be but a family nonetheless and I can’t wait to see what the next four weeks bring us. 

How Many Teachers Does it Take…

I never thought I could hate a puzzle, let alone a simple one that only required sorting colored rings onto poles. I never thought that someone could truly hate an inanimate object so much that they honestly wished it into oblivion. I never though these things but there I sat, shifting back and forth on the brown mat, filled with impatience as I stared down a little boy named Junid over a rainbow ring puzzle. Rewinding a bit, it is around 12:15 in the afternoon on Tuesday and I am working at Manovikas Kendra Rehabilitation Institute with my 11am class which today only consisted of two kids.

When I first entered the room I was met by the smile of a small Down Syndrome boy who bashful waved back at my enthusiastic “Hello!” I immediately loved this little boy even though my teacher Sukanya proclaimed him “a very naughty boy”. Naughty? Ha, I had no IDEA what naughty even was until it walked in the door a minute later. Naughty looked demure at first, just a 5-year-old slender boy in an orange sleeveless t-shirt. Naughty then proceeded to beam at me with his small pearly baby teeth in perfect array. I should have known that the end of my sanity was near as he wiggled when we put him in his desk but I was in the thrusts of denial. It couldn’t be that bad right? He was just one little autistic boy and there was a whopping four teacher and two parents for only the two little boys. In terms of underestimates mine was on par with the guy who said “Oh yeah, 20 life boats? That’s definitely all the Titanic needs!”  Since that day there was a woman doing her internship for the special education teacher credential program Sukanya gave the Down Syndrome boy to her and instructed Kristen and I to work with the little boy in the orange shirt whose name we learned was Junid.

The first task of the day was putting plastic bottle caps into a box that had a hole cut out of it. As if to make what was to come even worse by comparison, Junid performed this task with flying colors. His fingers flew as he grabbed the caps to prodding’s of “Tolo! (pick)” and “Roko (put)” from Kristen and I. After that task was done Kristen pulled over another task that consisted of putting round wooden balls onto sticks. This was where the first signs of trouble appeared. Every other piece that Junid picked up somehow seemed to end up in his mouth. Frantic shouts of “No Junid! Put Down! Not There!” rang throughout the humid room in between tense moments of silence where we would watch him pick up the piece and observe it. We would stare at him, listening to the buzzing of the ceiling fans, all the while nudging him to put the ball on the stick. More oft than not he would make as if to put the ball on the stick then fake us out and pop it into his waiting mouth. Luckily, this particular task was not that long and soon it was off to matching and coloring.

The next activities were done in his workbook and they consisted of one page of connecting the dots to practice straight lines, one page of matching shapes, and one last page of coloring in a picture. The second that Junid’s mom handed him the pencil, he did as most autistic children will do when handed with their object of choice. He stimmed. This is layman’s term for sensory stimulation, which for Junid consisted of him pinching the small pencil and shaking it back and forth in his mouth hitting his teeth. Every attempt to get him to do the workbook was met with grunts and shrieks of distaste until finally Sukanya stepped in and forcibly held his hand and made him do the task.  After this particular lesson was over we moved on to what was going to be the most difficult 10 minutes of my Tuesday: the color ring puzzle.

The color ring puzzle consisted of six stakes upon which colored ring of blue, red, orange, yellow, green, and white were to be placed. I don’t know what it was about this particular task, maybe the rings looked like candy, maybe it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, maybe it just hit that time of day when he decided he turned into a pumpkin but Junid was NOT having it. Every piece went onto the wrong ring or straight into the mouth. When he was prompted to “Dako (look)” he would tip his head back and pretend to sleep. I hated that puzzle. It got to the point where there were literally four of us (Kristen, Sukanya, Junid’s mother, and I) all holding down one 60lb five year old trying to make him do the puzzle. Based on his screams you would have thought that we were asking him to grasp hot coals. I looked over wistfully as the Down Syndrome boy dutifully traced his letters in his workbook, looking up every once in awhile for praise from the intern. Junid did not care if we pleaded, scolded, or demanded. He just wasn’t going to do it. So, how many teachers did it take to get a five year old to do a puzzle? 4. And we barely won. Barely.

After the hurricane had passed and Junid sat happily hitting a spoon against his teeth as the kids had “Tiffin” (what they call lunch here) I sat crosslegged with Kristen and wiped sweat from my brow. I felt like I just ran a marathon, without the satisfaction. Something I am starting to learn here is that not every encounter that I have with the kids is going to be rewarding. I have kids cry when they see me coming over because they know that I am going to make them do work and one girl even peed on me in an attempt to get out of doing a puzzle while she sat on my lap. Not every experience is enjoyable but I come away knowing something new from every one. Junid taught me that even when I want to give up and let the kid have their way, I have to persevere to teach them that acting out does not accomplish anything.

Within a week I plan on having a post about my morning class and hopefully some pictures to show of their smiling (maybe) faces!