Here’s a cliff. there’s 2 inches by Delainey Wynne

India. Man, oh man, how do you explain what it is like here… If I had a thesaurus maybe, just maybe I could begin to put into words the heartbreak, love, and joy I’ve felt these past few days. India smells something like a stuffy room filled with curry, fire, garbage, poop, and dead animal all in about 3 seconds. It is a country full of sounds. The 17-hour bus ride consisted of a chorus of bus horns… our bus in particular sounded something like a mix of pacman, broken tuba, and the horn off RV (if you know you know).


Now a little bit about my experiences in the school, yanno like the ones that I’m actually here to have. Our school, Chansari, is located up in the mountains around an hour away from where we are staying. When the bus drops you off you have to locate a narrow set of stairs. This is where the hike to our school begins. It’s about a ½ mile straight up the mountain side, it may not sound too bad, but then take into account 40 hours of travel, and it being a steep set of stairs and then you may be able to understand the struggle that accompanies this hike. After passing many cows, people giving us directions, wrong turns, and heavy breathing we hear the first sound of our kids. It’s right at the moment where you are really getting tired and feeling the burn. The first day we could hear a small symphony of childlike voices singing their morning prayers in a beautiful foreign rhythm. Day two we left earlier and were able to walk by the houses where the kids live. The kids greet you with a thick accented “Good Morning DeeDee” (meaning sister). They held our hands and walked with us up to the school in the downpour. Huddled around in a circle hugging each other to stay dry I realized that the infamous copper-eyed girl Chris and Marce always talk about was here…. better yet SHE HAS A YOUNGER SISTER!! *insert picture here* The kids are so sweet and at the same time naughty… it makes for a difficult dilemma because you just want to play with the kids and laugh with them but you are here to teach them so when they are running crazy imitating you it makes it difficult to want to manage the kids. The kids have a bright light in their eyes with their desire to learn. The language barrier is challenging and leads to the kids not accepting your authority. The kids love to color and spell out all the words, the love even more to play Ride that little pony and be spun around in the air. I have to say the 2nd graders are like crack on wheels with endless energy. They test you to the very edge of your limits. They will be running around rambunctious then you go and get Ayna (our translator) and when she walks in, they will be quietly sitting in a circle. The older kids however are extremely smart and lovable. They answer questions all your questions and even wait around to help you clean up. Teaching is a battle between wrangling the yelling naughty kids, the shy kids in the corner, attempting to pronounce their names, and helping them understand new material.


The thought of leaving in just a short while is so saddening but not as saddening as the kids you walk past in the market clad with ripped shirts, bare feet, and dirty faces, grabbing your hands and saying “please please” while holding their hands to their mouths. It brings you to tears knowing that there are thousands of kids living this way and I can only help the 46 kids in my school. I have never seen so much poverty in a place and it is a wakeup call. Although I am so so very grateful for the amazing luxuries at home, I wish I could give it all up to help 100’s of people with that money. I LOVE INDIA! till I blog again I love you all back home. Over and out.