Yesterday was our lovely warden's birthday. She told me a few days earlier and I didn't mention it to anyone because she told me she wasn't planning on celebrating it. Now, I don't know her life story, but there is one thing that obvious: she's not a housewife, the traditional role for women in Indian culture. When I asked her why she didn't want to celebrate her birthday, she told me in broken English, "Me, not married. No children. Parents no affection."
So, everybody knows that when someone says they don't want anything for their birthday, they secretly do. Kerry and I bought her this beautiful little mango cake from the bakery next door (500 rupees ~ $9).
So, Kerry and I had to figure out how to lure her up to our room. Easy: Kerry runs downstairs, says we have a problem and we need help. "What problem?!?!" She asked, "Uh........... spider! Big spider!" So she comes up to our room with a broom and here we are with a beautiful cake!
Not only did Devaki flip, but she was so thankful and surprised, and I'm sure she didn't expect me to even remember that it was her birthday. So we shared a few pieces with the ladies next door and had about 3/4 of the cake left. Kerry and I are like.... let's take it to the orphanage and see if any girls want cake.
So we walk over to the orphanage and realize that we probably didn't have enough cake... we're standing in the doorway with this tiny cake about 8" across, a quarter of it is eaten, and 70 wide-eyed girls who haven't had cake in probably forever. So now we have a huge problem. I started taking bits of the chocolate on the sides off and handing it to outstretched hands. This clearly isn't going to work.
Plan B: One of the older girls says, "We're about to go to prayer. After prayer we can have the cake." Um, Okay. But there isn't enough cake................. or is there? Everyone sang their prayers for Rama and Sita and afterwards got in line starting with the youngest kids, and the warden of the orphanage said there would be enough cake. We slivered off the TINIEST bites of cake for every little hand, and each person said, "thank you!" No questions asked, no complaints that someone got a bigger sliver than they did, nothing but the purest gratitude. Everybody got a bite, every single one of the girls. When we got to the last bit of cake, there were 5 girls left and we managed to make 4 bites out of it. The last girl got to lick the plate.
The warden of orphanage looked at me with this expression like, "See? Now you know." She gave us a genuine thanks and we went home feeling humbled.
With each sliver of cake we peeled off of the and with every "thank you," we received, I felt so tiny in the monstrosity of India's poverty. Yet, I can't help but just feel embarrassed for not bringing another cake, or 5 cakes, or 1 for each one of the girls for that matter. I feel like we shouldn't have even gone over there, we should have known it wasn't enough cake. But the funny thing was that it was enough-- although that's not the crucial point here. Everybody got there share and by the time we got down to the very last girl, even she had her part. These girls have experienced the bane of human existence, they've lived life without having a plate to even lick clean.
Something is better than nothing. This is the essence of santosha, contentment: One of the 5 niyama (personal observances) of yoga. I'm going to return to this moment throughout the rest of my life as the day I learned an incredibly important lesson. I hope you all can take something out of this, too.
This story brought a tear to my eye. Your experience in the orphanage shows how grateful even the smallest gift is regarded by people who have little or nothing. It is no wonder Mother Theresa committed her life to helping the poor of India.
ReplyDeleteI wonder who you will be when you return.
I'll be me but more seasoned! There is such a difference between the students at Lady Andal and the students at Seva Sadan (the government school.) There is a higher expression of gratitude for their education, the students are more respectful and well-behaved, they listen and don't talk out of turn. This could be in part due to stricter teachers who may not be paid as much as the ones at Lady Andal, I don't know. Seva Sadan has significantly less resources, and I don't think the quality of education is as good as it would be if they went to Lady Andal. It's sad, actually. But, something is better than nothing and a mediocre education is definitely better than no education.
DeleteI like that last statement: Something is better than nothing.
ReplyDeleteThis truly encompasses the divine blessing that life is, even when in the shoes of someone like those girls: because to live in suffering for one moment of joy makes it worth it.
Someday I wonder, when our universe reaches it's apex and it begins it's death cycle, will that quality reverse? With Nothing become better than something? I look for analogies in our lives and think, is it better for an old person to die than to live in suffering (in contrast to a youth)? It's hard for me to envision a time in with the DeathForce takes precedence over the LifeForce, or if there is even a duality there. Perhaps the nature of things is to always have Life, but I am not sure if that is the case.
Or perhaps the DeathForce is just my own human conception. Perhaps I need to remember that nothing ever dies, it only changes into something else to grow more.
Are we truly that blessed that Life just goes on and on?
Well, I I'm back and forth and it sounds like you are too. In the very worst cases, is something actually better than nothing? For those who lived their entire lives without a moment of joy, but in fear and anger (as those are the most primitive emotions).
DeleteI mean, those who experience the worst are different in India than, let's say, in America. The people are so spiritual and so devoted and it's inescapable. It's the last grip of hope and faith that explains this chaotic mess that life is. So even if you've never experienced joy, at least you have someone to fall back on, you have a reason.
So to answer your question: Are we truly blessed that Life just goes on and on? Assuming you mean humans, the anomaly that just so happened to evolve through millions of years of genetic mutation, well... I say yes! Are trees truly blessed that life goes on and on? Trees die, bugs die, people die. It's sad but it's so beautiful! How could it not be a blessing? So instead of just being a bunch of apes on a floating rock in space, at least we're a bunch of lucky apes! We could just be a floating rock in space without apes and trees and bugs.
And in that last sentence I definitely just implied that something is better than nothing without even knowing it.
DeleteTo me the story is about not being forgotten...no one wants to be forgotten...and the children were so grateful not so much for the tiny bite but because you showed them they are not forgotten.
ReplyDeleteGood interpretation, there are many lessons behind this. It was an awakening experience. It's just so tragic but at the same time, their gratitude is pure and genuine, and it brings me so much joy to see them smile.
DeleteWhat a moving story!
ReplyDelete