It's A Really Good Thing...

That I haven't had the chance to visit a school out here yet, and I don't think I will have time to. Otherwise, I am not sure I would come back to the States.

Every chance I get to interact and talk with kids here I take it. I love the obstacle: to try to give a bit of yourself to each child you lock eyes with. To give strength to the mud-soaked, pantless child who is motions to his mouth for food. To give peace to the child who, sadly, could sell any magazine to any bystander (no matter the language) like a true grown-up used car salesman. To give hope to the helpless babies that sit silent and naked in their teen-aged mother's arms, with no hope of ever leaving their shanty.

Today we found ourselves at Sarojini Nagar Market. This market is one of the largest in New Delhi and houses virtually everything, and almost everyone. Without even thinking, I struck up with a new best friend of mine, a 10-year old boy whose job was to carry parcels and bags for people who didn't want to carry their own-- a steal, at only 10 Rupees. At first, I didn't quite understand why he was carrying around an empty basket trying so eagerly to grab my bags from me. It didn't matter to me anyways. We exchanged names, which we both have forgotten already, as well as smirky smiles indicating that there was to be no harm in it anyways. This boy followed us throughout the market. He helped me get good deals on a few of my souvenirs. I tried to get him to play cricket. He kept pleading to carry my things. I gave him a few of my best high-5s.

At one point, I met up with another kiddo that couldn't have been more than 7 or 8. He was selling "black boards." These blackboards were probably made of outdoor trashbags that had been glued to a rod to make them roll up when not in use. This little boy was having little success with his business. Not really wanting to make that purchase for myself, I quickly noticed that the RD had been erased from the chalk advertisement for the BLACK BOA. I asked him for the chalk, but he couldn't find it. I tried to explain that the reason that no one was buying anything was because he had forgotten the R and the D. I am not sure he understood much other than the fact that I requested the chalk. After searching all 4 pants pockets, his shirt pocket, and even his sock the chalk magically appeared and I filled in the rest of the word for him. I was very happy to do it, and he would have been even happier had I bought the stinkin' trashbag blackboard.

There have been so many moments like this over the past two months. These moments have kept me feeling so alive and connected to others, though I am not really sure that is always reciprocated. I hope that I have at least touched one of the hundreds of babies and children that I have shared with and played with and winked with and laughed with. Deep down I know that I am helping myself more than anyone else, but that doesn't stop me from feeling good while doing it. And I don't think it should.