Getting Settled in Bangalore...
The next two days are somewhat a blur... I began to be familiar with the routine of the household. I spent some time with the staff members and played with Noor, who was nearly four. During quiet times, I would sit in the living room, tying embroidery thread into knots to make "friendship bracelets", watch the TV trying to make sense of the Cricket championships that everyone was so interested in, and simply soak everything in. I'd also sneak upstairs to the office where many of the project staff worked. I tried to get them to let me help sort, or file, or *something*, but they wouldn't hear of it. Instead, they just wanted me to talk... :) I clearly don't find this to be a difficult task... They would ask me all sorts of questions about myself, my family, and especially my culture. It seemed to be fascinating to them. In the process, I also learned quite a bit about them and the local culture.
One thing that was quite fun was to dig through Asma's file. I was able to see, that yes indeed, Asma did have another sponsor between the 2 times that I have sponsored her. It made me feel glad that someone else was there for her when I wasn't able to be. I also saw some photos of her in that interim period, but wasn't clever enough to see if I could get some copies. Her file held copies of correspondence, information about things that were purchased with gift money that I'd sent, information on her visits to the doctor, etc. I also helped myself to the files of other children, looking through them as I pleased. One thing that I noticed was that Asma wasn't the only child that usually ended her letters, "With Love & Sweet Kisses from Your Sponsored Child..." At first I thought, "Aw... I'm not special..." :) Really, I did... (Silly gal...) Then I took a second to think about how difficult it is for any child to write a letter, much less to write a letter to a benefactor in another culture. The children are clearly assisted a bit with their letters, but who would expect otherwise? I know that my surrogate nephew's grandmother helped him to write a thank-you letter to me for his Christmas presents last year.
It was also during this time that I visited the CCF National Office in Delhi. Gangamma, Asma's social worker, and Leela, the correspondent, accompanied me to the office. I had already met the National Director, Mr. Gojer, and his wife on Sunday at the Interfaith luncheon. Upon arriving at the office, I was introduced to a couple of the National Office staff, and spent quite a long time in their office chatting with them. I enjoyed their company very much. They were very interested in hearing about the role of CCF, child development, etc. from the point of view of a sponsor. They were also very interested in hearing about my culture. It wasn't until the end of this meeting that I realized that Gangamma and Leela had simply been waiting for me in the lobby. I felt a bit guilty about that... I think it also would have been an even more interesting conversation with their input.
We also went to see a movie. No one could believe that I actually wanted to see a movie in a language that I couldn't understand. But, I'd heard a lot about the movie industry in India, and wanted to see a movie that I wouldn't be able to see at home. I didn't care if I couldn't understand the language. After a week and a half in India, I was used to not understanding things. Jameela Aunty was thrilled. She loves to go to the movies, and the fact that I wanted to go meant that she got to take me... So, Aunty, her son Noor, Gangamma, and I went to a movie while Asma was in school. Even in the middle of the day, the huge theater was packed.
The first thing I noticed about the movie was that it was not of the greatest quality. The special effects seemed to be simplistic, the acting wasn't so great, etc. But, even though I couldn't understand a word, I quickly found myself engaged with the story. In the end, I'd simply loved the movie. Afterwards, Gangamma kept reminding me that the story was proof that a "love marriage" is nearly impossible in India.
Yet another activity of these two days was a trip to Mahatma Gandhi Road. This is a business district, where we looked in a few shops and went to an ice cream parlor. After we got out of the jeep (The driver, Sanjay, would stay with the jeep if there wasn't a convenient parking space.) we had to cross a street to get to where we were going. I must've scared Asma, because she quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me back,
keeping ahold of my hand after we were safely across the street. I will admit, that I was a little confused by the fact that the cars were driving on the opposite side of the road than what I was used to... Coupled with the fact that I was probably looking at all the new things around me, I was probably lucky that I had Asma to keep an eye on me... :) This was the first time that Asma had initiated this kind of affectionate contact.
I knew that her shyness was wearing off... It was great.
At the ice cream parlor, we each got a sundae that was really quite large. Poor Asma seemed to be overwhelmed by the monster... Consciously or unconsciously, I'm not sure, I realized I was pacing myself with her, eating as much as she did, so she wouldn't feel uncomfortable if she couldn't finish the thing. She ended up taking quite a bit of it home (melted and all) to share with her brothers and sisters.
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