Return of Saturn tour

Just for the record, my hair is still pink from Holi. Just the top half, really, so it's nice and awkward.

I fear it will stay this way forever.

A poem.

There once was a man from Calcutta

Who developed a terrible stuttah

I heard he once said

That he'd like some bread 

But wouldn't have any b-b-buttah.

This one's for you, Barbara.

(March 9) Thanks to Grandma Barbara McGinnis, I had the opportunity to meet her sponsored child. Courtney and I joined Children International staff on a trip to his house for a few hours. As it turns out, people were playing Holi for the third day in a row and doing so with "bad" colors (colors that stain you 4-ev-er). Courtney and I were nervous pervouses as we wound through the neighborhoods and avoided eye contact with dark pink people. 

Skipping ahead to the visit: it was great! Harsha himself was a little shy, but his family and neighbors were all so welcoming and friendly. We all hung out and spoke Bangla (some better than others), while people fed us nonstop. The girls of the complex were a little more forward with their feelings.

Girls: So how long have you been in Kolkata?

Me: (proudly) Since January!

Girls: (accusingly) Why have you not visited us yet???

Me: Uh--

Girls: Are you staying here tonight? 

Me: I don--

Girls: When are you coming back?

Me: I'm n--

and so on. They were really great. I would like to go back a second time but I am fairly certain I will not have time. One thing I know for sure--Kakima would NEVER let me have a jumbo slumbo in that neighborhood, though I'd so very love to.

Harsha and me just shooting the breeze

Receiving blessings from the house

Harsha HATED smiling for cameras. Or something.

Our ride was going back to the main headquarters right near Courtney's house. I asked to be dropped off at any metro, for they all could get me home easy as pie. I confidently marched up the stairs only to be stopped by a guard. As it turned out, the metro was closed indefinitely for unknown reasons. Rita loose on the streets of Kolkata?

   

Game on.

I ask around, find a bus, seamlessly hop on, and get to my connection where I usually catch my auto rickshaws. Success! Despite being left alone in an unknown location, I got home smoother than the butter on the muffin. 

"I'll cut yo hair"

Brenna had Tiffany cut her hair short. The result was shorter than expected and a little uneven, so Brenna went someplace professional to get it fixed, which was even shorter. Upon seeing it, Kakima was greatly distressed. She lamented Brenna's hair, telling her how she used to be so beautiful and making all sorts of woeful noises. She then forbid Brenna from looking in the mirror until May (so she wouldn't get sad), then actually made Tiffany cover the mirror with a shawl. 

My house rocks.

Holi cats on toast

(March 8) Holi! What's it about! Who knows! Who cares! A holiday embodying the essence of India by combining color with chaos. If the Midwest tried it, there's no doubt it would just blow up because it would be too much to handle. BUT WAIT! You still haven't described the festivities in detail!  Cool your jets, kid. I'm getting there. 

Holi, the festival of colors, is pretty much about covering your friends/enemies/neutral strangers with color. In the process, you too will be covered in color. Yup, that's it. No point system, no benefit to avoiding the color. Color comes in harmless powder form or the much more serious liquid form. Some colors ("bad" colors) will pretty much dye you, your hair, your clothes and sometimes give you rashes. Totally worth it.

Holi started a day early for Brenna, Adam, and me. Outside the back gate of school, initially a few school friends but then mostly randos would run up to us and rub powder on our faces, wishing us a Happy Holi (the social implications of this are mind boggling). Brenna and a little girl bonded as the child ground powder into her face.

Fresh faced and fancy free

Cute and violent.

Day 2: Kakima and Kaka start things off right.

We head to Shreya's apartment complex and start with a little American tomfoolery on the rooftop. Things don't get too bad.

We challenge the local children. Things get a little more intense.

Life is great.

I slept over at Courtney and Kelsey's that night. After saying goodbye to Shreya, we got off our auto and began to walk to the metro. I glance to the right at the people paying for their auto. Wait, they are not emptying a coin purse into their hands, but rather, a powder packet. Realization sets in as our eyes meet with a shock, and my body enters flight mode. "RUN!!!!!!" I scream, and we zip to the entrance. Kelsey wasn't so lucky.

We emerge from the metro. It looks like a warzone. We spend the rest of the walk down the (mostly) barren streets and markets (unsuccessfully) avoiding the few brave souls. 

In summary: 

Holi is amazing. CSB|SJU 2013. It has been weeks and my hair is still pink. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Holi 2012. Boom.

I'll take you to the ball, Barbara Manatee.

On Monday, our Prayasam boss, Amlan, discussed our invite for the event they were having on Saturday called Connecting Girls, Inspiring Lives.

It was a surprise in two ways:

1) Prayasam wanted to recognize Tuktuki, a 16 year old girl who came from the slums who recently graduated cosmetology school and received third on a nationwide test, by unexpectedly giving her a kit of beauty products to use on her customers.

2) Becca and I were to plan it.

It all happened so quickly and smoothly I am not sure if I should feel suspicious or not. It started with an appreciation meal Amlan brought us because we'd been working so hard recently and he wanted to recognize that. Thanks, Amlan! Aww, we feel so loved. Chat chat chat. Yes we can come to that thing on Saturday you mentioned a few weeks ago.

Amlan proceeded to tell us Tuktuki's inspiring story. Tuktuki had a fairly hard life; her village had been destroyed by a natural disaster, so her family moved to Kolkata. Even before they moved, she had to drop out of school in order to start working to help her family. After they arrived in Kolkata, she was employed as domestic help and mistreated by some of her employers. Knowing she didn't want to live that way forever, she, with the help of Prayasam, started going to vocational school so she could learn other skills while still working at multiple households a day. Now she is sixteen, just graduated from beautician school, and about to start a job at a salon at the city center. She is an example of how to break the cycle of poverty by getting a job where she has rights and much better wages. The celebration fell on International Women's Day, and was to be focused on stopping child labor with a spotlight on Tuktuki's story. Amlan harbors the philosophy that we cannot individually encourage a thousand girls, but we can encourage just one, and she will inspire the thousands.

Then in the course of this motivational talk, all of a sudden Amlan, wily shmoozer that he is, whirlwinds us into a fantastical idea of what the event on Saturday could be in all its glory and splendor. Becca and I are Americans, he reminds us! We know drama! We know grandeur! We know how to throw a party! Becca and I are in charge of the ordeal. We dub it the Sakha Gala for the sake of pretentiousness. 

After a week of planning, writing, gift makeup shopping, and evading more work (so it actually amounted to us doing relatively little), we arrived tardily on Saturday, hauling along an enthusiastic Tiffany and a very drowsy Brenna. We, the staff at Prayasam, and like 50 youth leaders, hung out in lectures on stopping child domestic work (illegal but commonly accepted) and the importance of education, then watched youth-made documentaries. This one was made by my gal Sikha (a mere 13 year old), featuring my gal Apurna (talking at 2:30) and Tuktuki herself (2:00)--there are a whole bunch of things preventing girls who are poorer/living in rural areas from getting educated, including insufficient funds, pressure from family to drop out to help in the household and early marriage.

WATCH! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTXm6Fx7dr8&list=UUE61RMDmdRaFl58-16R5dSg&index=1&feature=plcp

After watching this and talking about it, Becca, Tiff and I presented roses to the girls for their achievements (Brenna had left by this time because she was falling asleep too hardcore during the lectures--even when Piyali was translating to her face. Brenna is serving as my Rosie abroad; my little narcoleptic baby). Finally, eventually, Tuktuki was recognized for her hard work and accomplishments and given the makeup case. That was a wonderful thing to see; she was so shy and humble, one could not help but be so happy for her! Everybody was so excited for her. Tiffany, Becca and I became her first clients as she gave the makeup a test run--international fashion strikes again.

Props to you, Sikha and Apurna!

When in India... take advantage of the privileges of your pale skin I guess

The lady of the hour herself--Tuktuki! (Also, lest you forgot how huge we are in comparison to Indians--Tiff is 5'3" for reference)

Cotton balls. Becca and I rolled them with our own bare hands.

Rompe (Break It Down)

After suddenly coming down with a bad case of boogie fever, the 1/3 Herd (aka my roommates and me, as we constitute a third of the group) came to the consensus that dancing must be done ASAP. There is a fancy club/bar/restaurant in the City Center (aka mall) about 10 minutes from my house, so we headed over there to meet up with our friend Ishani, plus Adam and Erik. As we approached the boys, we eyed them skeptically for they were wearing matching outfits, which, as it turns out, was just a happy accident. When we eventually made our way to the club (Erik totally broke the elevator), the door men informed us that Adam and Erik were not up to dress code standards. Men must wear pants; shorts (even matching ones) were not permitted. Erik gave them a sidelong glance and slyly inquired if women could wear shorts. Yes, they said, women could wear anything they wanted.

Instead of racing time to go home and change (we were working on an 11:00 curfew, people) we found a set of restrooms. Brenna acted as a courier between us as Becca and I exchanged our gender neutral Indian pants for their shorts. The guards chuckled a bit as we marched in with our heads held high, breaking no rules (but definitely committing some crimes of fashion). We danced and danced to the rhythmic stylings of Daddy Yankee, MIMS, Rihanna and other artists you may not remember from the mid-2000s. Indians watched our unconventional movemetns with awe and disbelief.

It was a night they'll tell their grandchildren about, the night a few Americans, though improperly clothed for the setting, completely annihilated the dance floor.

Saturday Night Fever

Adam and Eric's host parents, Shyamali and Ranjit, had a party of their friends and relatives and we made the cut! Score! However, there was a conditional: we must perform for them a talent show.

It all started the night before (as these things occasionally do), when somehow Ranjit wormed our performance talents out of us. 

Tiffany: traditional Thai dancing

Becca: I Will Always Love You by Whitney Houston 

Me: a little lyrical/ballet

Drew: whistling

Adam: juggling

Brenna: singing like Louis Armstrong

Eric: Piano accompaniment for everyone

He and Shyamali enjoyed it SO MUCH they required a repeat performance for all their friends at the large dinner party. All the guests heartily approved of our antics; Anterin (Erik and Adam's late 20s host brother) did an impassioned rendition of Julius Caesar complete with lots of shouting and a sword, consequently making a small child cry. By this point, Ranjit was a little tipsy and did a very spirited version of King Lear. He wore one of Shyamali's saris as a toga. I think I'll end on that visual.

A fair description of Kakima

(Simultaneously) Kakima is out of...

Rita: her mind!

Brenna: this world! 

Both are true. She may be crazy, but thankfully she's crazy about us.