Jaipur, the Pink City

Tomorrow, on the 8th of July, I'm headed out to China. The month plus that I have spent here in Northern India has been informative and fun, I'm sorry to leave so soon.
Jaipur, the 'Pink City', was magnificent and ancient, filled with temples, forts, and palaces which date back thousands of years. There I saw primitive astrology, the likes of Jantar Mantar, an observatory used by Maharaja Jai Singh. The city palace, also, with its armory and courtroom, still complete with decorations and thrones, was a wonder in and of itself. While it is a place where time seems to stand still, it also exudes a vibrant life force which can be felt in every corner of the bazaars, through every neighborhood. There are slums, of course, and many thousands who sleep on the dusty streets, but, with effort, hope can be felt in this extraordinary city, hope that change is coming. I stayed with a friend of my family, the Agrawals, in a quiet neighborhood, Tilak Nagar. Mr. Agrawal was quick to help me find volunteer work, he is extremely well connected in the city. After meeting with one of his friends, I was shown several orphanages, as well as other non profit clinics which dot the city. I split my time between three, the first, a nursery of adopted girls, aged 1 to 10. There I was little help, my Hindi just as bad as their English, but in such situations, words do far less than interactions. We would color with crayons, do arts and crafts projects that I brought, and play card games. With no male role models, it took them only minutes to start calling me 'uncle', as sad as it was endearing. From there, I would go to another orphanage, on the other side of the city, where 20 children live in a three floor house, sleeping six or seven to a room. They have survived who died of AIDS, indeed, all of them are HIV positive. Through philanthropy, their medication is paid for and the disease is treated to the fullest. Here, too, they recieve care from several females, who work full time preparing them meals, bathing them, and looking after them. As such I was again hugely popular, being an adult (feels odd to say), and I spent the afternoons playing football (the international kind) with them in a park by their home. In comparison with the awkward stares of passers by, their rampant enthusiasm, complete with using me as a human jungle gym, was a welcome improvement. The day I left, one of the boys sat me down on the couch, and looked up at me "you stay here" he said. Again, it was both touching and scary that, in two short weeks, children are attaching to volunteers such as myself emotionally. It also begs the question of what exactly volunteer work does for the children that are being 'helped'. On one hand, there is the rational and pragmatic arguement that, however little you do, doing anything is better than doing nothing. I agree with this fullheartedly, there is no shame in doing what you can. However, one must be realistic when approaching the subject of utility, for it grows more and more apparent to me that volunteer work is equally, if not more, about the effect that it has on the doer, the volunteer. I played father for two weeks, then left to continue my journey. If anything, I have left these kids with attachment issues more serious than those that they had before I ever met them, ever stepped foot in their cramped and dusty home. But I have emerged with new perspective, new appreciation for the lives which are being led here, in the neighborhood behind a hospital (best in India, I was told).
Finally, I spent a few days at the Bhagwan Mahaveer Viklang Sahayata Samiti, the largest prosthetic leg facility in the world. Here, thousands of Indians flock to be fitted with prosthetics, free of charge. Here, about 330,500 arms and legs have been made since 1975, when the 'jaipur foot' was invented. It is nothing dramatic, no hidden secret, just a length of tough plastic piping that is molded around a plaster of paris model of the amputated limb. It is fit with care, with quality worksmanship, and the people who come are provided with economic support to get back on their feet, in a more metaphorical sense. I was given a tour, shown the workshop, sat and watched as several people went through the process, which takes about half an hour.
I have no doubt that programs such as this one exist in all of India, indeed, in all of the world, but it is equally comforting to see them work, see humans with genuine concern for the plight of their fellows. True mercy is a rare thing these days.