School painting and Shabana

A bit of the painted school

Last week we started work on a summer camp for kids in slum schools, and we painted a preschool in the slums. The summer camp was loud and busy and fun. And a learning experience. The girls running it did a great job planning lessons and keeping the kids busy. Brook and I taught them the Macarena, and they caught on so quickly… it was so fun to watch them dance. Especially to the music of the Tollywood hit “Gabbar Singh.” That’s another story entirely.

The best part of the week was getting to know the children that hung out around the school while we painted. They were all so eager to talk with us and learn from us. Once they learned my name is Katrina, they kept asking me to “Dance! Dance!” because I share my name with a famous Bollywood star… and because they probably would have asked anyway.

Most of the group in front of the school on the day we finished

This little boy seemed a little sad, but I am captured by this photo of him

 A few of the older girls in particular liked talking with me and the other volunteers, asking me my name, my parents’ names, my age, etc. When they found out I was married (Kyle wasn’t there) they were surprised. They were so interesting to get to know. A few were Hindu, some were Christian, and a few were Muslim. They all had aspirations to be teachers, doctors, policemen. They were energetic and kind, and I just wanted to spend all my time with them. When we left they said, “We are missing you,” and they hugged me a lot. So sweet.

The girls gave me a few flowers :)

Many of the girls

It seems wrong having favorites, but I have to admit I had one. Her name is Shabana, a 9^th class girl and a Muslim. She had a grace and maturity about her that I admire. She didn’t join the other kids in flocking me for games and songs (thought I didn’t mind that), she just watched us through the window while we sat on the school porch. I just inherently trusted her. Near the end of the day one day, she made a beautiful henna design on my hand with my ballpoint pen. So beautiful! I was sad it wasn’t henna because it washed away so quickly. 

Shabana with a local woman who came by for a bit

Can't see it well, but this is what Shabana drew on my hand

Next week she goes off to a hostel so she can attend a special Muslim girls’ school (from what I understood), so I may not get to see her again. I really have no idea what she has experienced so far in life, and I don’t know what challenges await her, but I hope with all my heart that she finds joy in life. I hope she becomes the teacher she dreams of being. I hope she finds her way out of the slums if that is what she wants. I hope she has a kind husband when she gets married. I hope she keeps her sweetness. I hope the same for all the girls I met, and all I didn't meet. And all the little boys.

Shabana is just one girl out of millions of people in this city, but I am glad I met her and learned just a little of her hopes and dreams and talents.