India // Thursday

…chalk hands turn into henna hands

"All we have to do is decide what to do with the time that is given us"

10 days left. one zero. What can we do to make the most of this experience in the very short time we have eft here in this exotic place?

Complete with 9 hours of pure refreshing sleep, we head up to breakfast. Toast! Bananas! Familiar foods scatter the table. A bowl of something that resembles stuffing is passed to me. My tummy is happy, however curry flavored it may be… Following our filling breakfast we wash dishes and filter our drinking water for the day. The water here is icky. Filled with parasites and illness- we are only advised to drink bottled water here. But even then, I feel like a prissy westerner when I request it when we go out to eat. Our attempt at being precautionary, I suppose.

We dress in long skirts and cover our roasting arms with cloth shirts. Dowse our bitten arms and legs with powerful bug spray. Braid our hair and fill our backpack with the teaching material.

Another day, another rupee. Another honk, another lonnnng stare from the men passing by. Another beaming smile, another moment of pure joy. Another walk to work, another blister on my toe. Another realization of the idea that I am HERE. IN INDIA. Where God has graciously led me to touch those who yearn for love and education.

[I will write more later on my missional approach in a few days]

On our approach down the stairs to the red brick center, I see eyes staring back at my face. Here we go! Another day of wonderful challenge. We sit down on the may and cheerfully explain our new lesson. I can not get passed the idea that these students voluntarilly come here to learn and advance. Hey, people in America- LISTEN UP. These students know trouble and worry, they know poverty and struggle, they know homelessness, BUT they also know their passion to go somewhere. It is my position to help them get there, and to have them truly understand their potential and wealth in this world and in God's world.

The lesson begins, and it proves to be a bit more challenging than anything we have done so far. I tell them we will work on it tomorrow and assure them they are very smart and intelligent! do not worry! you will understand this soon.

Grace. That is my mission. Just show some grace.

Lunch time! We tried Gol Goppi, a traditional indian dish that the little girls in afternoon session requested we try. Little fried hollow dough balls filled with potatoes and chips! You are supposed to dip them in spicy water, but as mentioned before, I am a wimp with spice. No thanks!

When we returned to the Center for the afternoon session we were hailed with hugs and smiles. The lesson transpired as usual, and we decided to switch it up a bit and read some nursery rhymes and teach them the some "If you're happy and you know it clap your hands *clap clap*" When the song arrived at the verse that chimes "If you're happy and you know it do Elvis "hubba hubba"- they all started laughing. I felt silly as all the eyes in the whole center were glaring with curiosity at our group. But honestly, after I recognized the happiness pouring out of me while I sung- I did not care.

following our lesson a woman grabbed Annie's hand and started henna-ing it. I laughed as Annie had a shocked, yet intriguing look on her face. the woman plopped Annie's hand on her sari covered knee and began painting small designs with brown paste. She grabbed mine shortly after. Long story short: "Shelvy" is now written on my palm. They can not seem to spell my name right. haha.

While we were getting henna, another sari clad woman sat down and started threading my arm hairs. She had a smirk as I winced at the pain. In about 5 minutes time, the little blonde hairs on my forearm were gone. (Well, half of it at least..)

They treat us like princesses here. They feed us huge meals, "make us pretty", decorate our skin, and they even call me "pretty Shelby ma'am". I cherish these children and women so very much, but I believe they cherish me as well. So much love floating around that building.

In the midst of our pampering, the kiddos looked through my pictures and I taught them how to take a photo on a mobile phone. "Smile Annie ma'am!" "Picture with me?" "Please take picture with me." "Shelby ma'am I am taking picture of you!!!" The climbed on us, sung with us, told us stories of their friends. After what seemed like 100 photos, and many giggles, happiness radiated on my face. I turned to Annie and said "Can we stay just a bit longer??" She agreed, naturally. The goodbyes today contained chants of "hubba hubba" and tender little hugs. I love today.

We took another rickshaw to Dilli Hat, an open air market that has a variety of lovely indian treasures. Bracelets, rugs, scarves, bowls and plates, anything you can imagine! We shopped for our loved ones and bartered with men at the kiosks.

"How much?"

"150 rupees, Ma'am"

"Umm no. 100"

"140"

"Too high!! *walk away*"

Believe it or not, they chase after you and beg you to pay. I swear my stubbornness got me far. I came out of the market with many gorgeous indian artifacts for less than $30 american dollars! As a self pronounced "thirsting guru" I patted myself on the back and rewarded Annie and I with Mango Lassi's- Mango, yogurt, and milk smoothie. Yummo. I could have 7!

We trekked around a sketchy block attempting to find a rickshaw for a decent price. The bartering continued. We found one who was willing to give us a fair price but when he started his little rick, it grumbled and turned off. "Oh, shoot. We are gonna die for sure" It turned back on and off we went. Again- trusting others to get you by. It's scary, but my anxiety is immediately calmed as we arrive home.

I spray layers of bug spray on my body before I climb into bed. The bites never cease. I found two stingers in me earlier, which freaked me out a bit. I am constantly itching and scratching the microscopic bites and hoping they will vanish. Ha, wishful thinking. All in time..

Continuing to learn how to embrace every second of this whirlwind of culture and adventure, bug bites and all.

Blessings to you, readers!