We had the best food ever. Not to mention a chocolate cake(a rare commodity). Liza reads a card to Nibha.
Many friends gathered and photo wars occurred. This still happens across cultures.
A handmade card that Lindsey made for Nibha. Someone has some patience for crafts.
Phase I.
Phase II.
Phase III.
Phase IV.
The boys love picnic day because it is a chance to leave the children's home and go swimming in the river. They strip down to their underwear and jump in. Many baby fish were caught and killed that day in an attempt to bring home a pet. The boys grabbed raw dough from the kitchen to feed their fish and I knew it was only a matter of time...
I am outfitted in my Indian bathing suit... the same clothes I sleep in or wear on a daily basis. The bathing suit I brought will have to wait to be worn until I am back in the west. Women here just swim in their clothes, if they swim at all.
Most of the women just put their feet in the water or wear their Salwar Kameez into the water. Liza and I seemed to put everyone in a state of shock when we said we wanted to swim across the canal that was on the other side of the road from the river. There is a bit of a current and steep banks. We went with one of the men who is a strong swimmer. The director and others went searching for a rope and came up with a long stick. They were convinced we were going to drown. We ventured into the water and swam at a diagonal to the current and made it to the other side without any difficulty. Everyone was surprised that we were able to do it, and the stick wasn't needed. Even when we went back to the river where everyone was at, they looked at us in disbelief saying, "YOU did?! YOU swam across the canal." Most women in this culture are not used to doing these types of things, which is probably one of the reasons we were told we couldn't go on a short hike with the boys earlier in the day. I was grateful for a brisk swim so that I could get some exercise.
Boys on the bus.
My first encounter with the colorful powder. There was more to come later in the day.
This was early in the morning. By the end of the day, most people were covered with these fluorescent colors. They end up at the river in the afternoon to wash their colors away. I saw stained clothing and remnants of this holiday days after.
A gentle attack.
My preferred color.
I spent the last week out at Selaqui at the children's home and I made a ton of progress on getting footage for the documentary. Frieda also asked me to create a music video for a Christian song that she wrote. I was worried about getting it filmed and edited and still being able to spend enough time with the boys. But, amazingly, I was able to spend lots of time focusing on the boys and doing this extra project. We also brought a computer out to the farm and put it in my dorm so that I could edit there. That made it possible for me to edit together the music video this last week. It is nearly finished and I have most of the footage I need for the documentary - minus a few interviews.
I was granted permission from the director of the children's home to have my little boys come up to my room to watch the music video since they are in some of the footage. This turned out to be totally wonderful. I pulled up clips on the computer so I could show each boy some footage of himself. They were laughing and pointing and thought this was so funny. It also lead to one small breakthrough with Fazil, one of the younger boys that I haven't been able to connect with as well because he doesn't speak any English. He never will hold my hand like the others do and is pretty distant. But after watching the videos he came up and held my hand while we walked back to his house. That night I had one of the other boys translate something he was trying to say to me and he said, "Ma'am, you sleep in this bed," pointing to his bed. He then pointed to the floor and said, "Ma'am, you sleep there." The following day, while Fazil was doing his sweeping chores, he came up to my door on his own. I had no idea what he was saying. Then later, I saw him again and he was trying to say something to me. I had one of the other little boys translate what he said. The boy told me, "he said he wants to sleep up there," pointing up to my room. So what I gather from this is that Fazil either wants to make a trade with me and I sleep in his bed and he sleeps in my room, or I have a new friend.
Usually there are fresh ones of these little guys running around my room out at the farm. We have a mutual agreement that if they eat the bugs, they get to stay in my room. However, I moved a book the other day only to discover one lizard not looking so fresh.
A couple of weeks ago we took an afternoon trip and drove to Rishikesh for an adventure.
I didn't have time to check out any temples or do any yoga like most tourists do. Mostly I was disgusted by the tourists getting off of a bus, totally oblivious to cultural differences. Girls wearing halter tops and tiny shorts. There is a reason why foreigners receive so much harassment.
I did have a chance to put my feet in the ganga and watch the people traveling there for religious reasons. Rishikesh is the most Hindu place I have been since being in India because it is a holy city.
I have it in mind to ride one of these bikes before I leave. I think the shock I will feel upon returning home will be the lack of texture.
In the evening, we stood on this bridge overlooking the river and watched the sun set. It was surreal to see this place, dotted with hippies, tourists, people on a pilgrimage, monkeys, wallahs, and so much color.
We drove up to Mussoorie on Thursday to run some errands and I had a closer glimpse of the Himalayas. I can see the foothills from the farm, but Mussoorie was a beautiful place. Unfortunately, it was an overcast day so I only saw the first couple of layers of mountains in the horizon; the white caps were hidden. It was still worth it though. 
Working on the documentary for the children's home and farm has had its challenges. I am still trying my best to get candid moments. But "Jenni-mam" with a camera immediately draws a crowd of children. The boys surround me and start singing and dancing, in what seems to be their version of a bollywood film. They close in on me and suddenly I have tons of little hands reaching up and pulling my arms down so they can see the view screen of my camera. They love seeing themselves.
On Wednesday I finally decided I would just let them perform for me so I had them line up and show me their dance moves. I also managed to get them to sit still and one at a time come up and do a solo dance performance. It was mostly complete chaos, but we were laughing so hard. 
Since my arrival in India, I have come to love the words "Namaste" and "Jenni-mam." In the streets, to strangers, my little boys, everywhere I go, people press their hands together and nod while saying, "Namaste." It is the one thing that seems to be the friendly link between the culture and language barrier. If I go for a walk in the village, I might see a little lady filling up a pot with water and there is always a mutual "Namaste."
These are my eleven boys that I tutor at the children's home. There are about 50 boys total ranging from age 5 - 20 at the home and they are divided into three houses. I go to the house with the youngest boys and play with them, tutor them, and do my best to make a documentary. They are different than any other children that I have been around because they do everything they can to help each other. They help each other study, they assist each other with their chores and they are never mean. They call each other brother. The boys are also incredibly appropriate, not tainted by crass humor. Completely innocent and sincere.
You don't need an invitation to a wedding in India in order to attend. We crashed a wedding in the village on Sunday with a couple of friends from the children's home.
However, if you do plan on attending a wedding and you are a foreigner, be prepared to be noticed. Three white girls at a village wedding caused a bit of a stir. This is something that I have come to expect everywhere I go. In fact, my picture already made it into the newspaper in Dehradun. A large full color print, which is an entire story I will save for later when I can post a picture of the newspaper article. It is a tragic tale of injustice.
The food at the wedding was amazing (as is all of the food here), but we were served an entire meal at the school directors home just before crashing the wedding so I had a hard time getting my second meal down. So much hospitality.
And here I photographed the groom with his bright colors. So cultures noticing one another is a mutual agreement. In my mind anyway.
I made the executive decision to stop taking Malaria pills today in case that is what is causing my bloody noses. So far, I have had one nearly everyday, but most of the other ones are really nothing at all, just a couple of drops of blood. This was by far the worst.
2 pairs of pants, 2 shirts, 2 skirts, 2 months. My bag is packed (after several trial runs) and I am ready for my flight. I have condensed my life into one backpack, which consists of minimal clothing and all kinds of random medications such as malaria tablets, and my video equipment. I am actually quite proud I was able to fit all of my equipment into one carry-on bag. Not to mention the gifts that I am taking for the boys at the home and school in Dehradun.
My final week before departure has been hectic, but rewarding. I found a few moments to refresh my very basic knowledge of Final Cut Pro (that is what this pic is all about). I am making a short documentary video for the program I am volunteering with to put on their website and to give to potential donors. Surprisingly, the school is already equipped with FCP 5.1, but no one knows how to use it. I don't consider myself an editor, cinematographer, or teacher, but I will be giving it my best shot. Hopefully not to much time spent editing, since there is so much to see in India and my resources at home are far greater when it comes to problem solving technological issues, such as dealing with HD footage.
Many of my friends pitched in to help me with my preparations. Stephanie, as always, was a lifesaver and the epitome of efficiency. Ken helped with the geometry of packing my bag, and Christian, although appears to be sleeping, was a great help. In fact, he had some very sound advice before my trip, which I much appreciated.