Freedom does not taste like an omelet

On Saturday, I got to attend the dance performance of Renjini, one of the Balika Mandiram girls. I, along with three other girls from Mandiram, sat through performances as beautiful as traditional Indian dances and as silly as a rendition of the 12 Days of Christmas, complete with Muppets soundtrack. The girls and I were scheduled to leave after Renjini's dance was finished. One of the families who had helped us volunteers during our first week of orientation was also there to see their son. Kind family as they are, they offered to take me home after their son's dance performance - which I wanted to see, and which was scheduled to be last.

Rejisar, one of the wardens and Mandiram, had come with an auto rickshaw to take the girls and I back to Mandiram. I asked him - would it be okay if a trusted family took me home instead? Instantly, he was concerned. A young woman - helpless, weak and mild - surely could not manage on her own! (This is nothing against Rejisar, it's just the culture he's grown up in). He wanted to meet this family before he said yes. After an introduction and after giving me his cell phone to use in case of emergency, Rejisar allowed me to stay until the end of the performance - approx. 10:30pm.

When I arrived at Mandiram that night, I went to Rejisar's house to return his phone. He beckoned me inside, set plates of snacks in front of me and proclaimed, "I will make you an omelet!" Well, if you insist! I went to bed that night, not feeling constrained, but feeling cared for and cared about.

The next night, around 7:30pm, I learned that my beloved downstairs neighbor, Maya-ammachee, had fallen the night before and broken her arm. Immediately, I gathered my flashlight and headed off toward the hospital. Women are not allowed out after 6pm, but I figured that surely they would let me go to the hospital, since it is so close by and since I hadn't known Maya-ammachee was there. Before I made it to the gate, the Ammachee at Balika stopped me. "Where are you going?" To the hospital, to see Maya-ammachee! "Can't you wait until tomorrow?" But... I didn't know... couldn't I...

She gave me a confused look. I could tell she was worried. I'm a woman. I can't go out after 6pm - period. "Go to the hospital tomorrow; tonight, rest."

And this time, there was no consolation omelet.

A.P.

I have just returned from a week in Andhra Pradesh. It was my first time outside of Kerala. We did a lot, but I don't have time right now to write about everything. So, instead, I'm posting some pictures. Enjoy!

(We went to lots of villages - and were always greeted with flowers)

(Andy made some friends...)

(... and taught them how to rock)

(An evening view)

(I liked her hair... no, seriously)

(Sisters)

(Kyle tries on some glasses)

(Everyone should have one of these... the left shows how much water is in the wells, the right shows how much is being used)