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 On
arrival, a number of children came to greet us and placed
heavy garlands of jasmine and dark pink marigold flowers round
our necks. The smell was beautiful and fresh, the weight crushing!
We deposited our luggage in Jacobs family home - a place he
makes available for visitors and his cousin Pushpa looked
after us
We sat on the veranda and awaited lunch as children gathered
to ask us our names, our fathers names and other mothers names.
They then offered their names but of course no other names.
One little girl with short hair and slides in the front caught
my attention.
She was about 9 and I commented on her slides - she responded
that she had grey hairs throughout her hair almost by way
of explainibng why she needed to do something pretty to compensate.
I said how much I liked the grey highlights and that I too
had some. We smiled at one another and connected.
So many of the children grabbed my heart but this little girl
kept coming to my line of sight in our brief visit. Her smile
and wit reached out.
After a short rest we visited Marys Dairy - named in honour
of Catriona's mom who had wanted to do something for vulnerable
widows in India.
The social enterprise is based upon co-operative principles
and seeks to provide each widow with a cow and a calf which
she can own and tend with a view to selling the milk, saving
a little money and being self sufficient.
Widows are particularly vulnerable - they are with their in
laws who are sad or angry that they have lost their son and
some infuriated that they are burdened with this left over
woman to feed. The idea that the widow may have an asset in
the form of a cow and the means of generating an income makes
her position stronger.
We discovered that the diary however may not be working quite
as Catriona's mom and Catriona had envisioned. The grass is
cut by the women and they receive 2k rupees a month for this.
Meanwhile however a man milks the cow and gets 3k rupees pcm.
The grass is limited so to get decent milk, food supplements
must be bought of cotton seed, rice husk, ground peanut and
corn meal. Salt is also mixed with water and by the time we
added all this up and calculated that they sell the milk to
the pasteurising firm at 10 rupees a litre and buy if back
at 15 rupees a litre (only 6 litres per week to share amongst
the 100+ children) the maths just don't work. Wew agreed we
needed to talk to catriona abd Jacob on our return as this
may be an error of understanding or others muscling in on
the project.
Back at the orphanage - we learnt as the day progressed that
the day begins at 5 am for prayer. Breakfast at 7. 30 and
school at 8. The children then study after school 6-8 pm and
dinner is served in large rows to cross legged children -
boys on one side, girls on the other.
Once dinner is finished, the floor is swept and washed and
the children sleep on the floor.
In the hall the walls are lined with one suitcase or bag per
child - the contents of which reflect all they own
We learnt that some of the children have one parent but that
parent is too poor to manage so the child is here. One little
brother and sister - 6 and 5 years old I suspect- have lost
both parents - father murdered, mother committed suicide -
they don't smile at all understandably.
We came to see the children at dinner and distributed sweets
- the kids looked pleased but moderately enthused . After
dinner, Sandie got some balloons out. Some which blow up,
release, squeak and fly off. Others to blow up and tie. These
got the children really excited and soon Sandie was mobbed
for balloons. The sweets were bought locally and I must confessed
tasted awful to my mind.
In the course of coming to dinner my little friend had badly
stubbed her toe. Whilst the balloon excitement reigned it
became apparent she split the end of her dry looking and dirty
toe open and a thick flap of skin was protruding
Cath and Catriona managed to get her to wipe some of the ingrained
mud off and to cut with some blunt scissors the offending
piece. They bandaged the toe and told the teacher to keep
it dry - probably had we not been there the opening would
have been left and the risk of infection real.
We came back for dinner after the children had finished and
chatted about life in Papua New Guinea - a place where Cath
and Catriona had been VSO nurses in the late 60's. Their stories
would make a terrific book and in so many ways made this adventure
seem tame.
Off to bed for the hottest night I have ever experienced.
Sandra and I had pushed two beds together to benefit from
the double mosquito net that Kanika had lent us. We were most
grateful as despite the luxury of the house there were no
screens at the windows. Having established my blood is much
sought after I decided to take no chances!
X
Day Ten
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