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Wednesday, August 26, 2015

In Closing

(Katherine)

For some reason, this final post has been most difficult to craft. In fact, it has been about 4 months since I returned from India! I have traveled to Africa, again to Asia, and twice to New York since then. Despite the time passed, I would like to share some reflections on what I learned in India and what I did for the last few days of my time there without Katie. 

At Nav Jeevan by myself, I continued my work at the school being a part of the community and a caretaker for the children. My teaching role continued and I spent significant amounts of time with the children after school. The older kids completed exams at various times and our schedule was wacky! 

Leaving Nav Jeevan and saying goodbye to my 100+ brothers and sisters proved very painful. One of the most common questions people have asked me since my return is, "Have you talked to the children? Do they miss you? How are they doing?" My answer begins with a sign since I do indeed miss them. But, yes, I have heard from them. In the middle of the night about a week after returning from India, I received a phone call around 2AM. For some reason, I answered and heard a little voice, Shamoul, greet me. Tears sprang to my eyes during our short conversation of which I did not understand much. But, he did ask, "Are you crying for me?" I barely had a chance to respond as Shamoul said he was crying for me. 

In closing, I would like to tell a few stories about three children, Nikita, Ravi, and Deepali, who really inspired me during my time living with them at NJS. All of the children, each of whom addressed me as “Sister” have helped me to reaffirm my passion for meaningful service and leadership in the medical field. Their smiles and kindnesses will stay with me forever, and they will continue to be reminders of my reasons for wanting to help make a difference that really matters in the world. 

Firstly, Nikita, a 15 year old girls studying in 9th grade, wants to be a flight attendant for Air India. Never having been on a plane, Nikita dreams of flight in order to escape the confines of Nagpur where she lives in NJS with her sister, Savita. Nikita’s intelligence has recently blossomed, pushing her to the front of her class and giving her the ability to pass the 9th grade exams to prepare for 10th grade. However, Nikita told me that she knows when she graduates her family who put her in NJS will have a marriage arranged for her. She will have no option but to comply, so she is not disowned completely. 

Secondly, Ravi, a 6 or 7 year old boy (his birthdate is unknown) who attends NJS with his older sisters, did not know any English and barely spoke Hindi when Katie and I arrived in Nagpur in January. The teachers of the school thought him too upsetting to the order of the classroom and would not give him the attention he needed to be integrated with peers. Thus, we helped him for two weeks of school tutoring him everyday to learn the English alphabet. His first accomplishment, spelling his name, made us overjoyed for him, for his persistence and drive. Finally, Ravi was able to be integrated into the first grade, and became the top of his class in mathematics. Yet, Ravi still struggles in Hindi and I fear that no one will ever notice, a thing very common among poor Indian students in NGO schools. 

Thirdly, Deepali, a 6 year old tribal girl who was brought to school by her uncle, became like my own baby while I lived in Nagpur. Having gotten a blister on her palm from her favorite playground equipment, the monkey bars, she popped the blister and caused herself an infection that quickly raged throughout her body. When antibiotics could not control it, the Wardens and I took Deepali for surgery to lyse and drain her hand. From that day, in which Deepali clung to me like a koala, until the day I left Nagpur, Deepali and I became inseparable. This little girl, who did not speak English, began calling me, an American volunteer who did not speak Hindi and had strange customs, “mama.” Knowing I would be leaving her in a few short months, allowing Deepali to love me as a “mama” was difficult at first, as was returning her love accordingly. But, in allowing myself to learn from her and to love her, I perhaps learned the most important lesson a Posey Global could teach: passion for service stems from love, that which is unconditional, for without love, service to others is meaningless. I hope to continue sharing this lesson through my words and actions on Alma's campus and throughout my career and personal life.

Thank you very much for following Katie and me throughout our journey. To the Posey Family, the benefactors of our scholarship, Kiran, Roger, Anita, and all at Nav Jeevan, and our families, thank you for your support. 


Shamoul and Deepali

Nikkita

Ravi and I