Nearly a year and a half after I first stepped foot in India for my yearlong post-bac adventure, I found myself again waving at the security guards to open the white gates into Shanti Bhavan. As soon as I walked into the volunteer quarters, the cleaning lady greeted me with a warm smile. I felt relieved by the familiarity.
Nothing had changed. Although the students were in different grades, had formed new cliques and new crushes, little startled me. The students remembered me – mollifying a facetious, yet somewhat genuine concern for many of us former volunteers – and were older, but still as jovial as I recalled them to be. Though I was only there for one day, I was able to see that my dance students were still excitable as ever, eager to please me, and able to perform many of the dances I had taught them.
The new kindergarteners were small and round and bashful and displayed the precise combination of cuteness to make your heart completely melt. Since I had left in 2011, classrooms for the smaller children had been painted differently, with bright colors and playful themes. With mouths full of newly grown adult teeth, the fourth graders joined me during PT and demanded stories. Keenly curious eyes peered intently at me as I retold tales of ghosts in the sports closet and giggles filled the air as they countered my imaginary characters with skepticism.
I only wish I had more time.
I wish I had more time to relearn their stories, to remember each student’s quirks and interests, and teach again. Shanti Bhavan is truly a magical, unique place and reminds me to count my blessings every time I visit. The children there retain their innocence in a way that isn’t possible outside of the white gates, and the staff and administration are always warm and welcoming to all volunteers. Though I won’t be able to relive the same experience I had in that year, re-establish all of my relationships and connect with the students on the same level again, that year – and all of the individuals that made it – is permanently imprinted on my memory.
To my former students, friends and family at Shanti Bhavan, until next time.
Nothing had changed. Although the students were in different grades, had formed new cliques and new crushes, little startled me. The students remembered me – mollifying a facetious, yet somewhat genuine concern for many of us former volunteers – and were older, but still as jovial as I recalled them to be. Though I was only there for one day, I was able to see that my dance students were still excitable as ever, eager to please me, and able to perform many of the dances I had taught them.
The new kindergarteners were small and round and bashful and displayed the precise combination of cuteness to make your heart completely melt. Since I had left in 2011, classrooms for the smaller children had been painted differently, with bright colors and playful themes. With mouths full of newly grown adult teeth, the fourth graders joined me during PT and demanded stories. Keenly curious eyes peered intently at me as I retold tales of ghosts in the sports closet and giggles filled the air as they countered my imaginary characters with skepticism.
I only wish I had more time.
I wish I had more time to relearn their stories, to remember each student’s quirks and interests, and teach again. Shanti Bhavan is truly a magical, unique place and reminds me to count my blessings every time I visit. The children there retain their innocence in a way that isn’t possible outside of the white gates, and the staff and administration are always warm and welcoming to all volunteers. Though I won’t be able to relive the same experience I had in that year, re-establish all of my relationships and connect with the students on the same level again, that year – and all of the individuals that made it – is permanently imprinted on my memory.
To my former students, friends and family at Shanti Bhavan, until next time.
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