Trick or Treat?

Happy Halloween to those of you who celebrated it. I did not take part in the sugar-injesting and costume-wearing this year. I guess I will have to celebrate double-time next October. The only sign of the holiday over here was the American diner (It's actually run by an American ex-pat whose motto is "never trust a skinny chef." Enough said.) throwing an all-you-can-eat buffet and interactive murder mystery game. I didn't attend because I was at LIFE Orphanage, a children's home in walking distance from my apartment. I have been going to LIFE in the evenings this past week to help with the occasional homework woe, but mostly sing and dance with the energetic youngin's.
LIFE is more like a foster home, with many of the children having broken families. A few are orphans, and unlike Balagurukulam, the kids don't call one another "brother" and "sister." If they have biological siblings, they are usually aware of it and there are even a few pairs of siblings living together at the home. I was taken aback on the first day when one child pointed to another who looked a lot like him and said "that is my brother." His good English is what really shocked me, but also the fact that he knew the difference between his brother and the other kids. The cuties range in age from 5-11 and all attend a good school taught in English. This means I can carry on a decent conversation with most of them, tell stories, and sing songs without recieving blank stares. It's wonderful- almost like I'm back in the States. They like to tell me intricate (often hard to follow) stories and act as translators between the workers and I. There are 34 children and two live-in staff, one of whom is all too willing to hold onto my purse for me. Maybe if she hadn't first explained the high price of her "medical bills (only to find my wallet remaining zipped)," then asked if I had stacks of rupees in my home, then asked how much money I carry with me, only maybe would I let her "hang up" my purse. I have grown severely wary of lower-class Indians these days. From the doormen begging for tips, to the maid only completing her duties with extra cash bonuses, to rickshaw drivers charging me at least three times the original fare, I have come to doubt the sincerity of so many around me. Just today I went to pay for some tender coconut juice from a coconut thwacker. I knew how much it cost- a coconut is the same price everywhere. There were four or five people standing around the cart and just as one was about to say "twenty," the thwacker, who didn't see him, said, "ten." The other guy shut his mouth quickly and went back to sipping his tea. I wanted to take a 7-8 km ride to another part of town today. The first guy was "giving me a deal" at 120, when the second guy eagerly accepted 60. The ride home was 50. This kind of thing is definitely to be expected, but when it happens so much (particularly with the doormen and the worker at the orphanage) it almost makes me sad.

I have been going to Balagurukulam less and less frequently. About 7 weeks ago, I loved going there. I loved playing with the babies and eating a delicious lunch. Some things bothered me- like the corporal punishment and the owner, but I was having a great time there. It could have been getting sick numerous times from the food, the disciplinary system, or the general feelings of tension, but my love for being there faded and is almost gone. In reaction to that, I have started going to LIFE in the evenings, the Pranic Healing Home in the afternoon, and a nearby Montessori school in the morning. The school is called S.M.I.L.E. Montessori for Affluent, Rambonxious, and Spoiled Little Children. I tacked on that last part to give you a sense of the place. On my first day of observation there, one teacher told me Indian parents don't believe in punishing their children. This explains the screams in otherwise quiet restaurants and the small bottle of Tylenol other volunteers would carry around for such situations. On a recent Monday morning: Two mats are laid out in different ends of the room, one with blocks, the other with large Legos. One boy I nicknamed Godzilla ran from mat to mat kicking over someone's tower, leaving another child in tears after each pass. The teacher grabbed him by the arm and told him to stop, then released the young monster who continued on his path of destruction. He was stopped by one brave child who took hold of his leg, but he kicked free. His reign of terror was finally put to a close by the teachers calling for clean-up. I must have seemed lost or something because just then, one teacher informed me of the "no punishment" law of society. Going from strictly-disciplined children to undisciplined children was like my first few days in this country- shocking. It is almost humorous that orphans have better manners than the children of dentists, doctors, and other upper-caste parents, or that they simply have better manners than children with parents! In will say this is a Montessori preschool, so the kids are very young. I think I got my first taste of what the lower school teachers at Brookfield Academy go through. I got interested in S.M.I.L.E. because I loved my Montessori school and wondered what an Indian one was like. Turns out, many of the materials are the same and the teaching methods are the same, as well. I do enjoy seeing how the system works as an outsider. Being a student and being an observer are strangely different, but I do get nostalgic when I see a young child playing with the same pink tower of blocks or set of number sticks as I did. I have only two and a half weeks to myself in Chennai, so I will pass my mornings doing the sighseeing I never did around the city and trying to have patience at S.M.I.L.E., my afternoons healing, and my nights at LIFE. Of course I will be throwing in the occasional must-try restaurant. I truly cannot resist the urge to eat out when I can get dinner for a dollar or a fancy meal for three. One of my favorite treats is fresh juice. Pomegranete juice is all the rage in the States right now and at 3-4 bucks a bottle, who wants to be a part of it? Here I can quench my thirst and stay hip with Western fads for around 30 cents a cup. That's when I love India.