Each morning at 5am, I am woken by the percussive sound of beating drums. This signifies the gathering of all the children in the orphanage for morning worship. After worship, the children have a couple hours to go and study before school begins. Two of the boys, Khusi (Oriya for "happy") and Sanjay, and one girl, Sunita, love to go and run/walk in the village during this time. Each morning after worship, we go out for a run to the bridge. This particular morning, we decide to go for a walk instead. As we walk out of the compound, Sunita sweetly points out that we are passing a massive snake hole. Last night a baby king cobra was found in the boys room. Beyond this, the village awaits. Topographically, there are jagged and distinct mountains in the distance with exotic plants sprouting from the deep orange soil that comprises them. The village is picturesque. Bright colors and tribal patterns are abundant around the small huts, people bustle about selling mangos and live chickens, all the while the shrill sound of car horns (they sound like a combination of an ice-cream truck song and a trumpet) is constant on the road. Walking along the road is a game in and of itself, one I like to call "dodge the cars".
My eyes fall on a large tree with a something attached to it on the side of the road. Sunita informs me that this is a Hindu shrine. As we walk up beside it, an old man hobbles out of his hut clutching a coconut, probably one of his only possessions. He breaks it at the altar and then begins to chant. We watch with intrigue, then one of the boys, Khusi (which means "happy" in Oriya), says in broken English,
"When we were little, we lived in a Hindu village. The villagers always brought offerings of things like coconuts and other fruits to appease the gods. One day, the villagers came out screaming, 'The fruit we left on the altar is no longer there! The gods have accepted our offering!!' ...what they didn't know is that it was Sanjay and me who ate the coconuts."
Shortly after that, I notice tall fruit trees and am told they contain "tal". The boys determine they will retrieve it for me, so for the next 30 minutes they throw stones up about 60 feet to hit the fruit out of the tree. Eventually we meet with success and have 3 good tal. I expect this is the end of our venture, but it is only the beginning. Tal are much harder than coconuts, and are very difficult to crack open. Sanjay runs to a rusting electric tower to smash the tal open, but only small cracks are made. We run over to the bridge where bikes, cars, buses, and cows are crossing. Sunita instructs me, "You wait, sister, we get for you." They all get in position, and when the first bus passes they throw the tal under the wheels of the bus. Amazingly, the wheels and fruit make contact and the fruit smashes open. We all cheer excitedly as the contents of the mysterious fruit are finally unveiled.
Gazing out over the bridge, I notice many Indian men down in the river. I ask if we can go down, so Khusi starts out down the steep sloping path to the river. I notice several white flags, but am distracted by the army of bats living under the bridge. Sunita invites me to go in the water, and soon Khusi and Sanjay follow. We wade in to our calves, then Sanjay yells, "Sister, look, the bones from the white flags!" Confused, I ask him to clarify… "Each white flag represents a person that has been burned here. The bones in the water are human bones." With that, it is time to exit the water.
On the way back, Khusi finds a beautiful butterfly and gives it to me to hold. We walk from there up to a hut just as a villager is beheading and skinning a goat. I barter with him about a price: 380 rupees per kilogram. Sanjay asks me to sing for him, which turns into a singalong to "Jesus Messiah" that carried us all the way through the village. We arrive back at New Life with our quota of adventure full for the morning, and prepare to have breakfast.
I love spending time with these kids. Their minds are so active, their joy so vibrant and their love so genuine. They have lived in the darkness of millions of empty gods, but are now are flourishing in the one true Light.
