The orphanage

            We pulled up to the orphanage and the women who ran the place were outside waiting for us. We took off our shoes and followed them into the building. A young girl maybe seven or eight with boyishly cut black hair and a tan dress with red trim walked up to me. I asked her how she was doing and she said good, she told me her name which I could neither pronounce or remember and proceeded to grab my arm and tug me around the two bottom rooms. She showed me to her friends and got me some cake. There had been a birthday celebration. I turned her down, she looked very upset, but I could not in good conscience take these peoples’ food.

            I pull out a big box of lollipops I got from my local BJs right before I left and started to hand them out. The kids didn’t seem as excited as I thought they would but then I started getting kids coming up to me asking me for “muton,” which means candy in Malayalam.  The older women were asking for them too and I was happy to give them to them. There faces lightened up just like the children, as though these women had not had a chance to be kids yet. One woman in a red outfit came up to me. I was not sure what she was trying to say and she took me away to another room. There sat an older woman. She was western looking but with darker skin, too dark to just have a tan but rather light Indian skin. Her eyes were a shocking cold blue. This is something that might not stand out as much at home, but I had not seen blue eyes in India. She sat on one of the two beds in the room, her leg and foot in a cast. The woman started speaking at her and she started to talk my friend and I in English. She explained that the women wanted the lollipops I was giving out and gladly I filled their hands with the. The woman then went over to a shelf and took out a loaf of bread and offered me some; I turned it down. In the room was another woman, this one wearing all tan. Her and the girl in red appeared to be good friends. They talked and giggled to one another, touching and hugging as they went. We talked to the blue eyes woman, Gale she said she had two British parents who had taught her English. Where they were she did not say and we did not care to ask. We asked her what had happened for her to be in a cast, she replied simply that she fell off the roof. The other student and I look at one another, seeing if the other had also read between the lines and wondered why someone would be on the roof to begin with.

The two pregnant women were very lively and playful chatting about everything even though we understood none of it. Sometimes we got the point, but mostly it did not matter what they were saying we just enjoyed one another’s company. Sometimes Gale would laugh and we would prod her to tell us what had been said. I pointed to an old Singer in the room, the woman in red said she sewed and tailored clothing for the woman and children in the shelter. She held some beautiful rusty red fabric up to me saying I would look nice in it. I wanted nothing more than to let her make me something just so I could give her money, let her earn it but I knew we were far from our hotel and I would not be able to get back, that was hard to explain so Gale helped me. There were shelves in the room that housed more exotic Indian fabric. I wondered to myself why anyone with such a great skill and the right tools could be at a lack for work, living at a shelter. I tried to ask her why she did not make clothing and sell it or tailor other peoples’ but all I got was that she just helps the people in the shelter.

            I was perfectly content to stand with these women for the hour I was there, wishing I could communicate better with them. The woman in tan had big beautiful eyes. She would look at me and when she caught my gaze would smile. The smile of the Indian women are the best smiles I have ever seen- so kind and honest. Her eyes would water and she would look away. Gale explained that she had a fever; only three months pregnant she was worried about her health and the health of her baby. This woman was so beautiful she could be a model on a billboard here in India. There are many billboards all over India, in the most bizarre places. Even out in the middle of rural rice cultivation there are billboards. Many advertise woman’s clothing, weddings, and gold. I tried to choke back my own tears as she was doing but it took everything in me to not hand her all the money I had, but that would not help her.

            Eventually other women came in, one of which had a baby. She saw I had a camera and she wanted me to get a picture of her child. I tried very hard but the poor like boy was afraid of the camera and I am pretty sure me as well. Every time I raised it he began to cry. The woman kept motioning for me to take pictures so I took at least twenty of her and her sad son. Another woman came in wanting the same thing; her son was much more calm so I got a few nice shots. Then a young boy in a bright pink shirt came in ushering me away telling me that I must follow him; he wanted pictures with some women as well. Then he said, “I would like to take just one picture please,” as he held out his hand for my camera. I said fine and then he ran off and took I am not even sure how many photos. He was very good.

            As I was outside running after the boy with my camera the little children were everywhere. Pulling on my clothing and raising their arms at me which is the universal sign for, “I want you to pick me up!” I was now the candy girl;  they all knew I had the lollipops. They kept saying that they did not get one even though their tongs were stained with the colors. I was in sensory overload. Our group was spread out among the children, four or five around each one. Kids on peoples’ shoulders, their labs, holding onto their legs. It felt sad that they were this attention starved but was very fun for us. We left reluctantly after making a donation and took their brochure with us. The woman who runs this place is called mother or grandmother by the people staying there. I can only hope that she will be able to help them all and get them all jobs. These women need more than just a place to stay, they need a way to make it on their own. Most were dependent on men. But it was the same men that they depended on that got them into the shelter. Now they need to rely on themselves. They need to teach their children as well as the orphans there- that women can have jobs and can support themselves. 

This shelter is run entirely off donation, and has already helped so many women and children. I hope they continue to do good things for many years to come.

If you’re interested to know more about the shelter visit their website: http://www.santhwanamkottayam.com/