I've been living at Sevalaya for a little over a week now and it's been slow adjusting to some things and quicker to others. The heat always seems to be one degree below unbearable; this is the worst part by far. The power (more importantly, the ceiling fan) goes out for several hours each day and sometimes in the middle o the night, which makes sleeping difficult. When it gets dark, my room becomes something of an insect and reptile exhibit, so I try to go to bed by about 8:00 each night to minimize my awareness of this.
Apart from these things, however, my days here are full of "joy" (one of their favorite words) and friendship. There are currently three other volunteers here (2 sisters and a brother, from Utah) and we interact almost exclusively so far with the resident children of the school, which is to say those who are either orphans or are very poor and live here rather than with their families. The children are cute and sweet, calling me "sister" and trying to climb all over us, fighting for our attention. There are currently about 30 of them, most under the age of ten but a few as old as about sixteen. The girls love to put the fragrant white flowers they wear everyday into our hair, braiding and pinning to their liking. They reposition our bindis or give us theirs if we are without, and teach us the pre-meal prayer, handgames, and how to play volleyball with just about any object you could find. It seems to me that the children who most need to latch onto someone do so very quickly and visibly. It's easy to tell which among them are a little more liked or are more talkative with their peers, and some of the others find comfort with the older students, the "aunties," or with myself and the other volunteers during our stays here. There is a set of identical 8-year-old twin girls (who look about 4; all the children look so much younger than their American counterparts) named Satipiyah and Sevapriyah, who grew on me, and vice versa, very quickly and they are nearly constantly in my arms or at my feet asking to play. Even though three months seems like a long time to be here, I had my first painful thought a couple days ago that three months isn't nearly enough time to spend with them.
The other volunteers and I have gone into town to go shopping a few times so far. We like a resident to tag along with us, teaching us to navigate the mile-or-so path through the village to the bus stop and then hailing a three-wheeled, doorless taxi to bring us the rest of the way into Thiruninravur. We buy bangles and necklaces and earrings in the local style, and the little girls at the hostel compliment us ("Super, sister!") when we wear them. The clothing we buy helps to keep us a bit cooler than most things we brought; sleeveless, slightly stiff tops which fall to mid-thigh and are slit on the sides up to our hips, mine are light green with yellow detailing. I plan on buying more soon as washing clothes seems like something that I won't be doing too often while I'm here. Last time we went shopping, two days ago, we bought henna (or mendahi as it is called here) and yesterday a few of the older girls decorated our left hands, forearms, and fingernails. We also buy a few snacks and sodas for a taste of something familiar.
We have also started teaching a "culture class" in the mornings. Because the language barrier is so difficult, we have so far stuck to songs and dances and arts & crafts. We have helped them master the art of the Macarena, the Hokey Pokey, the chicken dance, and a few methods of bracelet-braiding.
the language barrier, as I mentioned, has been excrutiatingly difficult. A few of the children can translate words and phrases for us, which has been not only extremely helpful but also fun. I can say, "dog, meaning, tamil?" and they will reply "nai." Or I can say, "tambi, meaning, English?" and they'll tell me "little brother." I'm building quite the impressive Tamil vocabulary.
Sevalaya has been good to me so far and I'm becoming attached to its community here. My days are tiring, but so are those who spend their entire lives here and my consciousness and respect for them grows each day.
Apart from these things, however, my days here are full of "joy" (one of their favorite words) and friendship. There are currently three other volunteers here (2 sisters and a brother, from Utah) and we interact almost exclusively so far with the resident children of the school, which is to say those who are either orphans or are very poor and live here rather than with their families. The children are cute and sweet, calling me "sister" and trying to climb all over us, fighting for our attention. There are currently about 30 of them, most under the age of ten but a few as old as about sixteen. The girls love to put the fragrant white flowers they wear everyday into our hair, braiding and pinning to their liking. They reposition our bindis or give us theirs if we are without, and teach us the pre-meal prayer, handgames, and how to play volleyball with just about any object you could find. It seems to me that the children who most need to latch onto someone do so very quickly and visibly. It's easy to tell which among them are a little more liked or are more talkative with their peers, and some of the others find comfort with the older students, the "aunties," or with myself and the other volunteers during our stays here. There is a set of identical 8-year-old twin girls (who look about 4; all the children look so much younger than their American counterparts) named Satipiyah and Sevapriyah, who grew on me, and vice versa, very quickly and they are nearly constantly in my arms or at my feet asking to play. Even though three months seems like a long time to be here, I had my first painful thought a couple days ago that three months isn't nearly enough time to spend with them.
The other volunteers and I have gone into town to go shopping a few times so far. We like a resident to tag along with us, teaching us to navigate the mile-or-so path through the village to the bus stop and then hailing a three-wheeled, doorless taxi to bring us the rest of the way into Thiruninravur. We buy bangles and necklaces and earrings in the local style, and the little girls at the hostel compliment us ("Super, sister!") when we wear them. The clothing we buy helps to keep us a bit cooler than most things we brought; sleeveless, slightly stiff tops which fall to mid-thigh and are slit on the sides up to our hips, mine are light green with yellow detailing. I plan on buying more soon as washing clothes seems like something that I won't be doing too often while I'm here. Last time we went shopping, two days ago, we bought henna (or mendahi as it is called here) and yesterday a few of the older girls decorated our left hands, forearms, and fingernails. We also buy a few snacks and sodas for a taste of something familiar.
We have also started teaching a "culture class" in the mornings. Because the language barrier is so difficult, we have so far stuck to songs and dances and arts & crafts. We have helped them master the art of the Macarena, the Hokey Pokey, the chicken dance, and a few methods of bracelet-braiding.
the language barrier, as I mentioned, has been excrutiatingly difficult. A few of the children can translate words and phrases for us, which has been not only extremely helpful but also fun. I can say, "dog, meaning, tamil?" and they will reply "nai." Or I can say, "tambi, meaning, English?" and they'll tell me "little brother." I'm building quite the impressive Tamil vocabulary.
Sevalaya has been good to me so far and I'm becoming attached to its community here. My days are tiring, but so are those who spend their entire lives here and my consciousness and respect for them grows each day.
Hi Bailey! My name is Nita, and I am a high school friend of your mom's. I am enjoying hearing of your experiences through your mom, and I loved reading about them here! You're a great writer! Thanks for sharing your adventures! :)
ReplyDeleteBailey, this is a great reflection! I feel I understand your experiences at Sevalaya (both the challenges and the rewards) so far really clearly. Anne got her visa so she will be joining you before too long!
ReplyDeleteHello, this is Anne and I will be headed to thid program in June. Is there any advice you could get me or last minute things to bring. Also, how did you get from the airport and what shoes would you recommend. Thanks and I can't wait to get to India and especially meet the children.
ReplyDeleteHi!!!! I am sooo sorry that I just saw this and I can't wait to meet you!!!!!!! Sevalaya sent a driver waiting with a sign that said Sevalaya to the airport, which they can do (at no cost to you) if you arrive in the daytime. I would reccommend flip-flops and maybe one pair of sturdier sandals, but you will be spending 99% of your time barefoot. I also would bring a sheet to sleep on top of as well as a pillowcase, and the other things I'm really glad I brought were some clif bars, gatorade powder, a SteriPen for water (or some kind of filter). I also brought a hefty supply of kleenex tissue packets for discreet carrying to bathrooms etc., and baby wipes which are good to carry for those reasons and also a quick face wash throughout the day.
DeletePlease let me know when you are coming (if you're not already on the way)! My cell phone number is 757-345-9390 and it's only 50 cents to send a text to me while I'm here, so if you want you can let me know when you will be arriving. Be prepared for some intense heat, but you will love it!!