Of course, most of what I bought yesterday were clothes for me, from a Westside store on Commercial Street. Westside is a chain with quality and pricing much like JCPenney at home. I got a gorgeous Christmas outfit, black and red with beading and tiny mirrors. The thin churidar pants that bunch at the ankle are currently the in thing, and I love them. They now sell Lycra ones that have plenty of length even for someone who's almost six feet tall. I got a pair of black ones and two cute knee-length kurtis to go with then, in the latest style. And I couldn't resist two simpler kurtis in great colors to wear with jeans. I always kick myself for not buying enough when I'm here. There should be less kicking after thid trip. All told, I paid about 90 dollars for one fancy 3 piece outfit, one pair of knit churidars, two medium-fancy kurtas, two simpler kurtas, and a black chiffon dupatta with some sparkle. The outfit would have been about 75 dollars on Devon Avenue in Chicago ... but I digress.
In the shop pictured, Peter bought a sparkly little treasure box for himself. He initially fixed his mind on an overpriced chess set (as if!) Carved from marble, then had one of his "it's not FAIR, it's MY MONEY" meltdowns when I interceded. I could see the wheels turning in the shopkeeper's mind after that, and he expertly guided Peter to a display of small, inexpensive eye-appealing items, then gave Peter his treasure box for half price. People do seem to "get it" once they interact with him.
Peter had a memorable encounter on Commercial Street that will be forever memorialized as "the Lifesaver incident". We were waiting to cross the street when a young leper came rolling toward us on his little wheeled court. He was very clean and neatly dressed but his legs ended in stumps above the ankles, and he had essentially no fingers. He didn't beg loudly, just sat next to us and made eye contact.
Peter couldn't help looking at him and I knew that we had to give him something. The kids could never just walk away from someone in such clear need. I said to Peter, "quick, get into your backpack and give him a Lifesaver". (We have a bunch of the large individually wrapped ones in tropical flavors). Peter took out three and put them in the young man's cup.
The young men looked at the Lifesavers and tried to pick up one of them to unwrap and eat, but his hands couldn't manage it. Peter looked down and said, "Mom, he needs me to open it, is it OK if I open it for him?
"Of COURSE it's OK!"
To the leper: "What flavor would you like? Oh, OK, I think you'd like ... Pineapple".
He carefully unwrapped the Lifesaver and put it between the young man's palms. Pop - it went into his mouth and he smiled broadly when he tasted it.
"He needed help, mom. I helped him.". To the leper: "do you like it? I gave you my favorite flavor and there's only two left but I wanted you to have one."
To me: "see, mom? He likes it!"
Just a tiny encounter, nothing stupendous, but where other childred I've traveled here with would have recoiled, Peter seemed oblivious to the young man's deformity. After we crossed the street, he asked me why the young man had no feet or fingers, and I explained leprosy in simple terms.
"He won't get better, Mommy?"
" No, he won't get those parts of his body back again"
In the evening we went to visit my Indian brother and sister-in-law at their flat. Big surprise! Their two daughters, my two nieces who I've known all their lives, were here for a visit! (Both live in California). Niece 1 had her husband and new baby along ... another beautiful baby cousin for Peter to love. He had attended my older niece's wedding in CA a few years ago and even sat next to the mandap so he could hand things to the pandit (priest) as needed. The priest seemed to immediately recognize that Peter had special needs, and treated Peter with the same affection that was lavished on him by my Indian family.
I lived with my Indian family for a year in '73-'74 as teenage exchange student. They lived in a small town in south India then. It was a tough year in many ways because of culture shock and recurring homesickness, but 37 years later we remain very close. Through me, my Indian family have claimed my children as family members, providing them with the Indian "kin" so many adoptees yearn for,
Niece #2 is a bio-engineer in San Diego. She's here for her wedding, only 3 weeks hence. It is a semi-arranged marriage. The families conferred, the young people talked on the phone, the horoscopes matched, so they were engaged. Then they were able to date for several months before the wedding. Based on the pictures I saw, the romance is in full bloom and both partners are more than ready to make things legal. My younger niece just glows!
Peter decided before we went to my brother's house that he wanted to give Jaya-Aunty his new treasure box.
"But Peter -- you just bought that for yourself. Jaya-Aunty doesn't really need it. She has so many pretty things at home".
"No, mom, I want to give it to Jaya-Aunty. I love Jaya Aunty, and it's MY BOX!"
How could any parent argue with that?
The day was made perfect for Peter with takeout pizza from PIzza Hut (exactly the same as in the US), a chance to light butter lamps in the family's "God niche", and a gift of rupees from Jaya-Aunty".
When it was time to leave, Peter went around the room to each relative, giving them a hug, a kiss and an "I love you". Many tears were suppressed. Jaya whispered to me, "he's so healthy -- are you absolutely sure ... ?"
And in the car on the way home:
"So can we go back to the toy store and buy the Nintendo DS game I wanted?"
"Peter, you know what we talked about. You're not buying anything here you can get at home".
"Please? Please, Mom? PLEASE!!!"
"You know what I said".
"IT'S NOT FAIR!!!! It's MY MONEY! You never let me have ANYTHING!"
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.
All in a normal day.
Today we're flying to Delhi so we can go to Agra to see the Taj and visit Fatehpur Sikri tomorrow. It's going to be a killer day with a 6:15 am train, returning to Delhi at or after 11 pm. But oh, the pictures and memories we'll bring home.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
What a wonderful treasure of memories you are building for Peter, you and your family, everyone who meets him on his trip and all of us who are sharing this journey online with you. Thank you, Chris, for enabling us to come along with you both :-)
ReplyDeleteHugs, Julia