A night to remember

I had one of the best nights of my life last night.

At about 6 I was told that I was being taken into the jungle for dinner by Filly and Eugene (the farm manager and his wife, who are also the fostered daughter and son-in-law of rick shipway). This isn’t jungle like I have witness yet however, the jungle I have taken the kids through is just at the opening of the thick, jungle book level jungle- which we were visiting, at night! Needless to say I was pretty excited!

We went in the farms ute which is a nice oldish one that im sure has seen its fair share of thrashing- We, being Filly, Eugene, Kelsey, one hostel boy Ashwani, Filly and Eugene’s daughter Angel, and I. This is the first time since the monsoon that a normal vehicle (not a tractor) has gone through the makeshift roads so needless to say the going was rough and bumpy! Eugene had to get out every 5 mins or so to find the easiest way to get through the bushes, ditches and trees.

Last night, I will point out, was the Hindus equivalent of new years and Christmas, called Dewali. For this they have crackers and fireworks, every households has a supply, so all through the night there is a steady stream of loud cracking noises with an occasional spurt of colour in the sky. They make their houses like shiny beacons, like some do at Christmas time at home with lights, except this is India, so its not just one or two houses per street that goes all out, but EVERYONE and all the villages make their homes so illuminated that they can be seen from miles away! As we were going through the jungle we came to one of the villages that is tucked away in the thick of the trees. Seeing this was one of the most beautiful scenes I have ever seen. In the pitch black, scattered throughout the trees were little mud huts, all with tiny clay pots of candles lining their doorsteps and window sills, creating a romantic orange haze around each hidden hut, and casting faint silhouettes of the people, goats and washing lines against the walls. The clay candle pots are put out to invite the goddess of Wealth to visit their homes.

When we got about 15 mins into the drive we were able to get out and stand in the back of the Ute for the rest of the trip. INCREDIBLE fun! It was Kelsey and I, and in between us was Angel. As we swerved (of course Eugene went extra fast for our enjoyment) and turned and dodged holes, trees, bushes and ditches, and at points it was a case of holding on for dear life :P. I became so concentrated on staying upright and not being tipped out sideways from the truck, that the first time I looked forward, I was welcomed by a nice slap in the face from a branch of leaves hanging down. From then on I learned to look ahead. About 7 mins out from the jungle plot, which was our dining location for the evening, we reached a clearing where we had a clear view of the sky above us. It was one of the most incredible feelings to be driving at that speed, weaving through trees and bushes and then to look up at the most pristine clear sky scattered with stars that were racing along with us while we drove. The smell of the jungle was one of such cleanliness, I imagine that if we could smell underwater, that is what the deep blue ocean would smell like. God really is an incredible creator!

When we got to the plot there were two laborers who work and live there, who protect the crop from leopards, tigers and elephants. Apparently the elephants come out in a couple of weeks and when they do, the plot gets quite dangerous and they have to fend them off by making fire walls around the plot perimeter. The elephants have come right up to the hut that the men stay in, and at night they can hear them trumpeting from the jungle around them! The hut that is built there is quite something! It’s all hand made out of natural recourses, long long branches weaved together for the roof then huge logs in the middle of the hut for supports. They live by candle light so at night it looked particularly beautiful and felt like I had walked onto the set of a little house on the prairie during a nighttime scene or something.

We ate chicken infront of the huge log fire, while surrounded by the huge expanse of flat field. Crackling fire, pristine environment, great company, crackers going off in the distance, and an occasional firework rising up over the horizon from where we were sitting, I couldn’t even dream up something that would make that scene better! Conversation was the greatest part of this night though. We were blessed to hear the love story of Filly and Eugene. Their story is so unbelievably romantic and full of everything a good fictional (though it is not) love story has: early childhood crushes, turned teenage moodiness, then late teenage love, secret meetings, punishment, a great escape, running away and then, the elopement. Their story is almost too amazing to be true.

Around 11:30 we decided it was getting too cold so we packed up to go back. Instead of going the same route back however, Eugene decided to risk the river path which is a lot quicker and if we get stuck, we would be closer to the farm for help. We reached the river and they got out to evaluate whether or not it was possible to cross. Convinced he’d found one, Eugene hopped back in the Ute and sped down the bank to the river. We made it most of the way across the 8m wide river before the car decided it was not strong enough to heave us all up onto the other side. So we had to wake miphal (the other farm manager) up from his bed, to bring the tractor to haul us out of the river. For me being stuck in the back not being able to get out because the water had risen over the door, it was actually a blessing. Seeing the water coming right towards me with just the moonlight illuminating the tiny small waves, and then following the river up to see the night sky sprinkled with stars…incredible beauty a photo could not capture ever.

Now I should post this and get to packing, as I’m leaving tomorrow night and have hardly even made a dent in my 3 month growth of junk and rubbish scattered throughout the room! On to Nepal next, where my mother is waiting for me! Hopfuly i will be able to put up a conclusion to india on this blog before i get to the next stage in my journey...its gonna be a tough day tomorrow!


Love to all,
Lauren xox

Party Mix

I’m sitting outside watching the boys sort out wheat, enjoying the sunshine, the breeze and the amazing greenery and flowers that create a paradise around the farm. It’s serene at this very moment because the kids are at school. :P

As I may have mentioned before, we are well and truly out of monsoon season now. There has not been a drop of rain for weeks (except a VERY light shower while we were asleep) and the nights are getting cooler as are the mornings. Still t-shirt and short weather during the day though. There are gardens being created everywhere, and fruit trees being planted left right and centre.

Its harvest time here at the farm so we’ve had a huge combine come and do its thing on the wheat and soy fields. After the combines been through then people start collecting the hay from the fields and also bundling up the produce into big bags. Lots will go to be sold. The farm work is the boys duty so on the days when the combine is here and theres a lot of work that needs to be done in a short time, the girls are enlisted to work in different areas. Currently the mission is sprucing up an old house to turn it into a guest house for visitors. A few days ago a few of us girls were there painting the inside a nice bright blue colour, typical Indian style. Indian paint comes in powder form and then you add water, it’s like white wash. While this paint was great in that there were hardly any fumes and that it washes off almost instantly, it’s a lot more effort to apply, what would take probably only 2 strokes to cover with aussie paint, takes about 5 with this stuff. This paint is also dirt cheap compared to paint at home, although you have to reapply it every 1-2 years! What a huge lot of effort, although with the man power of the farm it isn’t too great a task. Roda and I ended up having a paint war, which was inevitable, She stuck a paint brush in my mouth as well as paint over my feet and neck and I got her back by putting it through her hair. Not sure who won in the end….

Painters from back: Lauren, Selma, Roda and Smitra (and Kelsey is taking pic)

Ladies picking the soy bean crop

The combine

A few nights ago Kelsey and I got dressed to go out! We were supposed to get all doled up Indian style (cover up as much as possible, put make up on and jewelry-ify ourselves like crazy) but ended up toning that down a bit before traipsing off to a festival and fair put on by the lions club here in the small town 1km away. There are a lot of mixed opinions around the farm about going to these sorts of events. We got put off by a lot of people before we went because they all these things were was drinking and women dancing with little clothes on, and as westerners we’ll attract a lot more vocal and maybe physical attention from alcohol fueled men. Chris (US) said that he would take Kelsey and I if we wanted to go, so under his “protection” we went. I’m so glad we went because it seriously wasn’t as bad as they all made it out to sound! Although to be fair, for everyday Indians and their conservative culture the girls dressed in tight long skirts and bare midriffs, which is quite provocative, so I do understand why the farm people find it an immoral display. It was held on a school oval, and there were about 2000 people packed into it. You never see these crowds in Australia, but it’s inevitable here. It was night time so the mass of lights were very effective! Everyone dresses up in their most vibrant and fancy clothes and there are stalls of food and toys, a huge ride and a massive stage that was covered in bright fabrics. When Indians put on a party, they REALLY go all out! 

Kelsey, Gail and I before we set out (she is tiny, but perspective has made her look miniture inbetween us i assure you :P)

the crowds we were greeted by

One of the dancers on stage

I now have only seven days left. I have enjoyed another jungle walk with all the nursery kids and the small girls yesterday. I had to carry dead weight in the form of little sleeping Suhana for about 5 km through the jungle and the water which was quite a challenge for me. We all had a lot of fun though! 

There is nothing more gorgeous than a sleeping baby, especially if shes Indian :)

On Saturday the school held a cricket match between the two houses (red and blue) which was awesome fun to watch. Just as happens at home, the boys put the minimal amount of girls they could get away with on each team, so it was majority boys, but the girls who did play, played so well!

the game in action

keen spectators

Just tonight Selma came in to pierce my ears parent trap style, or more commonly known aswith a needle and ice. The girls all do their holes, even their noses, in the dorms at night with needle and thread and ice. There are great benefits to living with all of your girlfriends!

An incredibly attractive photo of me with a needle in my ear

Love to you all!

Lauren

Champawat

A little while ago (man I’m bad at keeping this thing up to date!) I ventured up to the mountain city of Champawat, and what an experience that was! Along with Kelsey (Canadian girl), Rick Shipway and the farm manager Eugene, we took a three hour drive through the mountains to reach the town. It’s a huge winding way around mountain after mountain, up and down. At one point we were going up and then suddenly we were descending to the most magnificent valley I have ever seen. This drive was picture perfect India. The mountains with layers built into them for farming, complimented by incredible greenery and tiny houses scattered across the mountains.


One village we passed the kids have to walk 10km up the hill every day to go to school, as do the adults if they need to go shopping or anything else. What a life that would be! So secluded from everyone, unless you take a 10 km hike! Another town built onto the side of the mountain was a ghost town! A couple of years ago a bus carrying soldiers fell off the side of the cliff just across from this village and at night the villagers said they became so frightened of the screaming and loud noises that the soldiers spirits would make, they abandoned the village altogether. Now the hoses just lay in ruin, but still during the day people come to farm the land. Insane what superstition will do to people. The roads are extremely dangerous, very narrow and slippery especially during the monsoon. As we were driving we saw how the roads had just been washed away by the rock slides and flooding. Rebuilding is a constant happening on this road with men and bulldozers scattering the roads all the way up! Last year a bus carry 40 passengers rolled off the side of these huge cliffs, such an incredible tragedy…

From a lookout in these hills we could see the mountains in Nepal, and the river line that separates India and Nepal. Such incredible beauty!

Past this is Nepal

Eugene, Kelsey, Me and Rick

This road is where the bus fell off the edge at..

The ghost village

Newspaper

The other day I was flipping through one of the Indian newspapers that floats around the place and I noticed a section I have never seen before. This section was an identification page with pictures of dead bodies and a description of who they think they might be, what they were wearing and where the bodies were found.


I was quite shocked to see this but at the same time I have been wondering what happens when a homeless person dies, the big cities like Delhi are packed with them! Skinny, dirty, malnourished and disease ridden, an undignified death is inescapable for most of these people. And obviously there a lot more than just these few in the newspapers.


It is now that I see for myself the extent to which poverty is rife in this country, and all the countless issues that stem from this, that I can really understand how discouraging being a single individual in a big bad world is when it comes to actually wanting to make a difference. The cities are just jam packed with people sleeping wherever there is a flat surface and that really is no exaggeration.

I just pray that I will never forget that each one of those individuals has a story, has a life that God has given them and has a plan and a purpose. It could have just as easily been me living out on those disgusting urine and rubbish filled streets. Because it isn’t me however, I know that I have an obligation, ESPECIALLY as a Christian, to do all that is in my power to make life easier for those who cannot help themselves. From a western mentality is it easy for us to question how hard these people are actually working to improve their lives, there are many who choose to beg as a career... but then what about the handicapped, the mentally ill, even the mother of seven or ten kids who has no choice but to beg for a measly living? Her children then grow up on the streets and it becomes a vicious cycle. Even for those who have jobs, life is far from easy for a lot of these people, their living and working conditions are far from carefully monitored offices and factories.

If I ever become complacent, if I ever become nonchalant about the topic of injustice and poverty in this world, you have my permission to ostracise me, forget me, never help me out, remove me from my house and deny me clean water and food… At least then their hardships will never leave my mind.

Play Father Christmas. Please.

A question I get asked almost every day is:

"Are you staying for Christmas?"

Christmas time at the strong farm is the favorite time of the year, and not just for the kids the adults love it too! Its a time of year when everyone gets a new item of clothing to show off, and a small present to go with it. They have meat for one of the only times in the year and they dance and party like any great Indian family does. They celebrate it with a church service and the school does a nativity play.

No one can believe that I am here so close to christmas, but not actually staying for it!

This has been a really rough year for the Good Shepherd Agricultural Mission, both financially and emotionally, with the death of the woman all the kids call Grandma, who was the director of the mission, Maxine Strong.

They will struggle financially with Christmas this year, as they struggle to make ends meet let alone provide one night of festivities. I am asking that you would all think about donating to the orphanage this year, especially for christmas.

No matter what happens, this family of 200 strong will enjoy themselves at christmas. While they are not all blood related, they know the significance and the blessedness of having "family" to share it with more than most. Christmas for them is the one time in the year when they get to live "extravagantly", and when i say extravagantly, I mean with one new set of clothes each, a single present to enjoy and some extra zing to add to their curry by the way of meat.

Help the staff and the Shipways (directors) be able to afford to keep up this tradition the kids and the adults so love here. When i think of all we have at Christmas, i would gladly give it away to give this amazing family their extra special day of the year.


Just $15 gives two girls an outfit each. Just $10 provides every kid with a piece of fruit each, and fruit is prized like chocolate.

Please donate either via paypal if you would like more specific items, through their catalogue.

(oops so i fail at linking like that :S here the url copy adn paste it. haha http://indianorphanage.com/get-involved/donate-financially.html)

And do it now, so you don't have the excuse of forgetting.

Ok, so is it just me getting the brainwash from Indian media, or are the Australians particularly whiney these Commonwealth Games?

All the Australia vs India sports that are going on at the moment are allowing me to feel pretty much at home, except for some weird reason I have this tiny part of me that wills the Indians on. Maybe it’s a survival instinct, in case the Aussies somehow win the cricket and the crazed Indian fans turn on me for stealing victory from them…?

Speaking of sports, Caris and Selma and I had great intentions at the start of last week to do some yoga (well the exercises of yoga) each evening. Selma opted out after just 2 days, then in the last couple of days Caris is slacking off, so I’m last one standing. 2 weeks into it, and I’m pretty sure I’m still not doing half the stretches right. Its fun though, and hey, yoga is synonymous with India so I have to at least pretend I did some while I was here.


(Caris and I doing "yoga")

I have concluded that my Australian/Kazakh upbringing has neglected to teach me three particular things in life that I now consider important to my daily living 1. To sing all the songs off Shakiras albums 2. To beat a farm girl, 5 years my junior, at arm wrestling and 3. Being able to catch and skin a monsoon frog.
I didn’t think I would ever utter these words, but frog is so good! Big, juicy monsoon frogs. They are the size of a toad but are a frog, and deep fried they are magnificently tasty. A cross between chicken and fish, in this mostly vegetarian diet I have had over the past few months, frog has become my new favorite meat! These girls could give Bear Grylls a run for his money with their ability to catch food in the wild. Last Sunday I went with the older girls to the jungle and we made a fire and they went and caught about 8 frogs in the pond (in like 20 mins) and we fried them up for afternoon tea. Yum!

Just after the river crossing, with L-R: Euginea, Semma, Me, Caris and Annie
Caris with the first frogFrog de-skinned

Fired frog. yum

I haven’t been into the school much the past few weeks. Instead I have been honing my maternal skills and playing ‘big sister’ to a little boy called Raymond and the two little twins. I must admit it’s only in the last few weeks that I have branded Saloni and Shavani (twins) old enough for me to even pick up, let alone hold while moving in a walking motion. I still haven’t moved on to the changing nappy stage yet, no rush though. If I ever have kids, I’ve concluded that they’re gonna have to come out as 6 month olds otherwise I will be too scared to even touch them.

(me with shavani)

My little Raymond however (named after the TV show “everybody loves Raymond” - ughr) is just the sort of little boy I can cope with: Incredibly cheeky, ridiculously adorable, unbelievably affectionate and typically naughty. We spend our mornings together reading the same book, adventuring off to see the cows, and playing dead then resurrecting each other by placing medicine in each others mouths (yes, every time he does it I wonder where his hands have been…). On particularly friendly and good-mood mornings, he tells me “I miss you” when I pick him up. Seeing as I see him every day I don’t think he has fully grasped the meaning of the phrase, but judging by his little smile I think he means somewhere in between ‘I love you’ and ‘I love you… now play with me”. Yesterday he, Ebyon (the son of one of the staff members) and I had a round of golf which concluded with zero holes being made, zero balls getting lost and one putt being broken. Rather successful I would say.

(My little Raymond playing golf)

The Hindus have a ten day festival running at the moment, one of the biggest on the Hindu calendar. The kids at public schools get 10 days break for it but the Maxton Strong School (the farm school) is only getting 2 days. This festival is called dewali, and it is sort of like the Hindu version of Islamic Ramadan. They fast for 10 days, then hold plays and parties in the village at nights. From the farm we can hear their worship and drones. I wouldn’t mind going to see some of the plays, but everyone on the farm is hesitant about it because 1, they have seen it all before, and apparently the crowds get pretty rowdy and intoxicated. Which actually surprised me. For some weird reason I have this perception that most Indians are very respectful and proper people and drinking is not common. But then same as at home, this is a celebration, and come to think of it, alcoholic fathers are the reason a few of our kids are at the orphanage…


I have just over 3 weeks till I leave! It is just insane how fast time goes here. What am I going to do when I leave and am expected to eat with my fork rather than my hands, flush the toilet every time I go, and not be able to unashamedly put my feet up on anyone’s couch (even public transport), and it be completely culturally acceptable and done by the masses!?

(Cynthia and Raymond at her 3rd birthday party catching bubbles)

All my love,

Lauren xox

Riots, Papercranes and Kids

(Below: The twins Shivani and Saloni sunbaking on the patio)





My dad used to complain when we had student free days from school twice a term, he would have conked out by now if we had gone through our schooling years in the Indian education system.


Here they have holidays in the summer for being too hot, in the winter for being too cold/foggy and in the monsoon for the rain. They also have public holidays for the MANY Hindu festivals as well as Muslim ones and Christian ones. While these holidays make sense most of the time, like if there is too much rain the schools not only get flooded out, but the risks that parents will have to take to pick up/drop off their children from school on scooters or bikes if a flood came, can be catastrophic. According to Clifton’s calculations, holidays make up 3 months of their school year. That is a lot, but like I said most of them are justifiable, I might blog about that later on, it’s one of those topics that has enlightened me and broadened my perspective on poverty and education…:P


Recently the kids have had quite a few extra holidays. Last week they had 3 days off because of possible riots they were expecting throughout this state, after the verdict of a 60 year old land title case was announced. The riots were expected to be pretty serious; in 1992 there were riots over this case that killed over 2000 people! Fortunately however, there didn’t end up being more than a few tussles because the verdict was a split between the parties anyway. Yay, for now at least.


So while the kids aren’t at school, we have to find ways to entertain them. Man, school holidays would be a huge test of patience for all the staff!
Before Katharine (USA) left she had been doing quite a few crafts with the kids while I had been taking the others for computer. One day they learnt how to make origami cranes, quite a number of them ended up bringing their creations to me and so I put them to good use and wore them as earrings and an attractive 80’s looking scrunchy for the rest of the day.





Over the last few days I have been making paper mache with the small girls and the small boys. Lots of stress for impatient little me, but also a lot of fun! Unfortunately most of the creations were a flop, it’s the first time they have done paper mache so this was a trial run, and Indian glue isn’t the greatest sticky stuff ever invented. However, they had fun and I got nice and covered in glue and my cheeks ended up hurting after blowing up all the water balloons to make the animals out of. How do primary teachers do this on a daily basis?!






I have taken them on a few walks around the farm; a favorite path is the one to the fish tank. I am yet to see a fish that is bigger than 7cm, but the kids get extremely excited and go to fetch bottles and bags- anything that holds water to makeshift a home for them. Not surprisingly, none of the fish last more than a few hours and certainly no more than a day. I find it a little sad at the waste of it all, but in India there is such a different perception of death. Ok so that sounds gory or whatever, but what I mean is that death is so common and open here, of animals and even people, that their perception is a lot different to ours. The amount of stray dogs, cats, cows and other animals that wonder the streets, the only way to keep them away is to kill them. The other day a cat came around and to prevent it from becoming another one of the many pets that cause trouble around the place, the older boys killed it. I was so shocked, but it’s the how life goes here and it’s a necessary evil to prevent further problems I suppose. Anyway, the other day Debbie brought forth her fish to show me. I could barely see it through the murky dirty water it was just surviving in, but she was ecstatic to have it nevertheless. I asked her what she named it and she said ‘Lauren’. What an honor! :P However, about 15 minutes later she managed to spill the bottle over and sent Lauren flying through the air landing on the concrete, jumping and jerking. Thanks to the quick reactions of Kelly, one of the small girls, Lauren was rescued and put in a fresh bottle of water and once again was free to ‘thrive’ in her surroundings. The next morning I woke to Debbie at my door with a grim face, Lauren had died. Although Lauren fish will stay in our hearts forever, we have moved on and are trying to regain our normal lives. It took about 2 seconds.




(Pic: Debbie with Lauren)


Yesterday was a brilliant day at the river for me =). Through a tiny patch of jungle, through the village that is behind the strong farm, there is a river that is particularly large but, surprisingly empty after the monsoon season. Pricilla announced that she was taking all 17 of the nursery kids to the river for a swim and I went with. I don’t know about your family, but I always remember as a kid when we planned to go to the beach it always seemed to take forever before we would actually make it out the door. Yesterday, we announced we were going swimming, and in the space of a few minutes, they had retrieved their bathers (a pile of spare undies) and were ready to leave. After a pleasant walk that should have taken us about 10 mins but took more like 30, we arrived at the river with every single one of the kids practically wetting themselves with excitement. What a great feeling it is seeing those kids ecstatic about just being able to go swimming!!




I wasn’t quite sure if it was culturally appropriate for me to go swimming but the water looked clear enough, and under the warm sun, I was dying to join them for a dip. I waded out to my knees and was immediately ambushed by 10 kids under the age of nine with crazy splashing abilities, and before I knew it I was soaking wet and in the water. Yipeeeeeeee!!!! And thankfully, one of the other ladies that had come down with us was already in the water by the time the war was over, and Pricilla joined in a little while later. Phew. I’m still learning what is appropriate and what is not for a young lady to do here, there are a lot of restrictions but not too many that I didn’t expect. Pricilla did say that they don’t let the older girls swim in this river anymore because it is too open and anyone can see. That would seem a little extreme in Aus I suppose, especially considering what we wear to the beach at home as opposed to the fully clothed swimming we were doing, but I kinda like this part of the Indian culture a bit better…I’m sick of seeing too much skin bared and hanging out at home…





Well I think that about wraps up my last few days. Thankfully, they are all back to school this week and my slightly more sane routine starts up again =) Only 5 weeks of India to go, where did these last 2 months disappear???

All my Love, Lauren xox