New Years Day

I sit on the Bandra boardwalk, my first day in India, with my Culture Shock India in hand doing that thoughtless type of reading when you look at the words, but fail to process any of them. A small girl comes up to me, maybe four years old or so, and hops up on the bench I'm sitting on. "Ello ello! Food food?" she says to me as she cups her hands in front of my face. I continue staring down at the page desperately trying not to make eye contact.

I reassure myself, "this is what I'm supposed to be doing...right?" I hear the voices of all the westerns who repeatedly told me not to give to street children or even talk to them because it will just be harder to say no.

"Ello ello ello! Food?!" I can't help but smile as she scouts closer, practically straddling the side of my body with her tiny brown legs. I continue to look down, but see from the corner of my eye her dirty hair falling over her glowing eyes. She is adorable, which of course makes this so much harder for me. I try to tell myself not to be tricked, that it's all a well rehearsed act and she's simply doing an amazing job of playing the role. She is a slave to an evil man (maybe even her father) who has turned this innocent child into a manipulative con-artist. Her partner in crime will be here shortly to grab my bag as I'm distracted by her beauty.

But I can't get myself to believe any of it. I wish I could. It would be so much easier if I could stick to that story instead of seeing her as nothing more than a little girl looking for something to eat and maybe a little attention. She finally gives up and walks away barefoot. (I should mention that this does not seem to be uncommon in India because I have seen many people walking around town with no shoes on.)

I go down towards the water and find a place to sit on the rocky beach along with the rest of the Indians who came to enjoy the beautiful day. Many people glance at me as I walk by. I'm still trying to figure out if it's mere curiosity, to which I can smile and nod (well actually, the Indian equivalent to a nod is a bit of a head bob. I'm getting pretty good at it!), or something I should be a bit more cautious of.

I take out my book and continue reading about climate (if this is winter, it will be interesting to experience summer!) and cultural norms (it is acceptable, and not unusual for two men to hold hands as a sign of friendship while walking together). Suddenly I look up and notice my new friend has found me again. We go through the same routine of her repeating the two English words she seems to know and me smiling down at my book. She becomes interested in what I'm reading (not surprising by how hard I seem to be concentrating on the page) and suddenly she becomes a child, like any other I am instantly drawn to.

I look up at her and she smiles back at me. She points to a picture in the book. "Elephant," I say like I'm her English teacher doing a unit on animals. I flip through the book and find any other pictures I can share with her. She is very excited about the cricket game and looks at me with bright eyes as she points to the picture and says, "ball!"

I can't say my bag isn't clutched tight between my legs, but at the same time I feel relaxed. We seem to have passed the initial begging phase and are now able to simply interact and in some way enjoy each other's company.

After a few minutes, I notice a boy of about 12 or 13 has joined our little picture game. He stands back, almost letting me know that he doesn't want anything from me besides looking along with us. "Car, truck, bike!" he says as I flip the page. I turn around and he looks at me wide eyed and so proud that he could identify the pictures on the page before I had to my little student sitting next to me. As we look at more pictures, he slowly gets more comfortable and begins pointing to the images he can name.

I look to the right and see the Indian woman who was studying next to me is now observing this fairly odd, yet comical scene we have created. She smiles, we exchange a laugh and I'm called back to the game as the next page is turned for me.