That thought, however, brings me right into the next part of our story. When I was living here five years ago, I made some connections with a dalit community very close to the college and Chacko Homes. In case you are not familiar, the term dalit literally means untouchable. It was based on the Hindu caste system, and, although the designation of such a community of people and the discrimination against them have technically been outlawed in India, there are dalit communities all over the country.
These people live in extreme poverty. As you walk through this neighborhood, you see one-room homes with dirt floors, shared by several generations of a family. Children play with sticks that they pick up from the ground, and they run around without shoes on their feet. Women work hard at washing and cooking, while their men go to hard-labor jobs, if they have one at all. It is abundantly clear that they live with so much less than we do; and yet, if you enter one of these homes, there is barely a moment to say hello before someone is pouring you tea and asking you if you want a snack. You can hardly bear to take anything from the minimal provisions they have; but they won’t let you say no.
Five years ago, I found a place here in this dalit community, going there in the afternoons to tutor the children in English and creating a two-week summer program for them in conjunction with the YWCA, which operates close to their community. I made friends with the mothers as I played with their children and held their bare-bottomed babies. And, since my return to the USA, this has been the part of India that I have missed the most. Isn’t that an incredible thing to say? Of course, I miss traveling and seeing sights, I miss the lazy afternoons of card games and reading in the Chacko Homes courtyard, and I miss my friends at the college and around the community. But I miss the time I spent in the dalit village the most, perhaps because it’s where I felt my presence was the most meaningful, or perhaps because seeing how happy these people were with the small amount they had impacted me so deeply.
Whatever the reason, going back to visit the people in the dalit community was an absolute must on our itinerary. As our plans came together, we decided to fill a suitcase with toys and games to share with them. We brought coloring books and crayons, jump ropes, Frisbees, bubbles, plastic recorders, and kaleidoscopes, and today we took this suitcase full of stuff to the community and gave it to the kids. They were thrilled, and so were we. So much so, in fact, that we ended up hanging out with them, throwing Frisbees around and blowing bubbles, for almost three hours. Brandon, who often claims he isn’t that into kids, didn’t want to leave. And those kids did not want him to. They were jumping on him hanging on him and, in our game of Red Rover, the only real goal for each of the teams was to get him on their own side! It was the cutest thing to hear them say, “Red lober, red lober, Brandon come!” (They never did quite get the rhyme down!!!)
We now have just two nights left in India, and it is starting to hurt a little bit. This is especially true after having spent this special afternoon with the children of the dalit community, most of whom remembered me from five years ago and were absolutely thrilled to see that the white girl was back! I’ll never, ever forget the joyful looks on their faces, as we opened the suitcase and passed out their new toys. I’ll never, ever forget the wonder with which I watched Brandon throwing Frisbees and twirling kids around and finally saying, “Do we really have to leave?”
I feel the same way – do we really have to leave? But we had to leave the dalit village, as we have another commitment tonight; and soon we have to leave India for our real lives 8000 miles away. I am certainly ready for my pillow-top mattress, but, despite the ache in my back, I can’t imagine how I’m ever going to force myself onto that plane that will take me away. I’m just so happy today. I’ve always been so happy here.
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