A lot of people have been pestering me to update the blog more frequently. Maybe, eventually. But so far there's been so much more fun/meaningful/important stuff to do here in Mysore than write blog entries. Not to say that updating you all isn't important, of course it is. But life has been moving along quite nicely over here, and Eric and I have finely found a routine that keeps us pleasantly busy.
Our First Visitor
In February Eric and I had our first visitor in India, Genevieve! Some of you might know her from when she was in the Edge many years ago. Since then she's moved back to her home state of New York and is working full-time in the financial industry. Anyway, she flew all the way out to Bangalore, braved the five hour taxi ride (there was traffic) all the way to Mysore and, while on the way, had her first Indian meal at... McDonald's. The closest McDonald's to Mysore is about 45 minutes outside the city, so it was our first time there. Eric and I were craving something that tasted American so we just had to go (sorry about that
Gen). But better than our trip to McD's, Genevieve brought some things with her that were far more precious: peanut butter (and a large suitcase filled with various other goodies that Eric and I either forgot to bring, didn't have time to buy, or just plain missed) and crafts for the kids.Genevieve's visit was a rousing success, not just for the stuff that she brought, but for the relationships she built with the kids, especially the girls. She would spend the day at Beautiful Gate (the school for children with special needs) and then come to Bensons (the school where Eric and I teach) in the afternoon and lead crafts for the kids after school. It was amazing how much more the kids opened up to Eric and I in the short week Gen was with us. We never had much trouble with the guys, but now the girls too will actually talk to us or play games with us instead of silently running away and hiding in their room (or in the case of one little girl, giving us the Vulcan Death Stare). I have become a firm believer in the power of arts and crafts. Thanks Gen! She's set a high standard for any future visitors to Casa Brain y Kidney (the nicknames the kids have given us--can you tell who is who?).
School or Orphanage?
Eric and I are thick in the middle of teaching. Final exams are at the end of the month (it's still strange to me that elementary school kids have final exams), and we're busy getting them ready to score 100% on their tests. Teaching has been fun and surprisingly easy (not that it's easy, but it kind of is). It helps that I only have eight students and Eric only has six. I've had a couple of off days where the class just went poorly, but for the most part it's been smooth sailing. I thought the kids might have problems with my accent, but they're amazingly adaptable. Before coming here I wasn't sure how I'd do teaching
elementary school, but now, if I thought teaching in America would be the same as teaching at Bensons (I realize that it isn't), I'd become an elementary school teacher. Today I taught the students about Superman and Clark Kent and Peter Parker and Spiderman and the concept of "alter-egos." How cool is that? We even had a little time at the end of class for games. For some reason, my kids love "Head's Up, 7-Up" more than any other game in existence. Any time we have a spare minute they ask, "Can we play 'Head's Up, 7-Up'?" No! Hahaha. Of course, we usually do.One thing to note about Bensons International Academy, it is both a school and an orphanage. As a school, it's open to both the kids at the orphanage and to the general public for enrollment. What that means is that students from all over Mysore and the surrounding villages attend school here. Right now, about half the kids that attend the school are from the orphanage and half from the local co
mmunity. But since Bensons (the school) only goes up to 4th grade, all the kids at the orphanage older than the 4th grade go to one of the local schools in Mysore. So to sum up, not all the kids at the school are from the orphanage, and not all the kids from the orphanage go to the school. It's a little confusing.And actually, it gets even more confusing because many of the kids in the orphanage are not necessarily orphans in the traditional sense. In some ways Bensons International Academy is neither fully a school nor an orphanage but instead functions as a kind of boarding school. Many of the children have at least one parent, but the parent is too poor to be able to take care of their kids. Other children lost their father and, when their mother remarried, were abandoned or handed off to relatives who either did not want to or were not able to take care of them. Most of the orphans have brothers and sisters living somewhere else whom they may or may not know. And of course some of the kids are completely alone in the world. Although I do not know all their stories yet, many of them are heartbreaking.
More Kids
Having cleared that up, I absolutely love the kids here, especially the ones from the orphanage. The kids here are so easy to love. Although they are well taken care of, their life here cannot be easy. All of them wake up at 5:30 in the morning and they don't go to bed until 10 at night--their schedule is packed with school, studying, chores, meals and Bible study. And of course there are no parents to love on them or give them the care and attention they really need. And yet, they are always ready to laugh or smile, they're obedient and well-behaved, they share freely and are very giving, and they take care of each othe
r and are always helping out around the campus. They're so mature I often catch myself treating them like adults, and then I see them running around and playing tag or fighting to write their homework answers on the blackboard and I remember that they're still just little kids.It took me a month, but I finally learned all their names. Now I'm working on learning all their nicknames. Both Eric and I have been really encouraged by how well we've been able to get to know the kids even in the short time we've been here. I feel like the kids are starting to trust us--trust that we genuinely do care for them. I was really touched when, during one of our arts and crafts sessions, a bunch of the boys started imitating the dancing I unconsciously do during class. I know my relationships with the kids still have a long way to go, but even now I find myself constantly thinking about them. Sometimes I imagine what it will be like the day Eric and I leave Mysore, and then I get sad merely thinking about it. Just the other night I couldn't fall asleep because I was fantasizing about adopting five or six of the kids and bringing them back to America with me. I stayed up for two hours wishing I could be the single dad version of the Brady Bunch--imagining what it would be like to drive them to soccer practice and music lessons, what I would cook for their meals, where we would live, what kind of house we'd need and how I would set up the rooms. I think I'm sick. But it's a good sickness. I'm glad (and extremely grateful) to be here.
The Ambiguously Gay Duo Contemplate Adoption
(we're not actually gay, fyi)
Bamboozlement
Even before Eric and I got to India we heard that the traffic would be crazy. And for the most part, it is. Too crazy for us to even attempt to drive ourselves. So for transportation, we tend to take a lot of autos, vehicles that are a weird amalgamation of a taxi, three-wheeled motorcycle, and carriage (like tuk-tuk's in Thailand). Auto drivers are famous for ripping off tourists by either over-charging them instead of using the meter, taking an extra-long route, or using other, more illegal methods. Our first week in Mysore our friend helped us find a nice auto driver named Apu. He drove us all around Mysore and helped us find a restaurant we were looking for in an unfamiliar area, waited for us while we ate dinner and got ice cream, and then drove us back home late at night after hours. He charged us according to the meter, which is the official way of computing the fare. And he gave us his cell phone number in case we ever needed to arrange for a pick-up or in case we got stranded somewhere. Apu was a friendly and helpful dude and we thought that he'd become our unofficial driver for our stay here. That is, until the weeks passed and we noticed the fare that Apu's meter charged us was 50% higher than it should have been. Apparently, Apu had his meter illegally doctored to charge money at a faster rate than normal. Bastard! Apu, henceforth you shall be known as "A poo." Ahhh, bamboozled again.
If you'd like to call A-poo and voice your complaints, please call his cell phone by dialing 011-91-934-326-6834 (from the US). Standard international rates apply.
That's all folks. Look out for future updates, including a picture-only post, musings on our friends Ronald and Stelon, the big birthday bash, comments on the food, potential restaurant reviews, and much, much more.
One final image to say goodbye...
