simple pleasures

If you have ever spent time in a developing country, then you know about simple pleasures. I want to share some simple pleasures that I have observed here in Durgapur.
When the kids first moved into the hostel, I was especially concerned about the girls and their feminine needs, so I bought them each a package of sanitary napkins. You cannot imagine the excitement that simple gift caused. There were hugs and squeals of "Oh, thank you, Miss, thank you." When was the last time you gave thanks for a sanitary napkin?
Or when did you thank someone for giving you a dose of medicine that didn't taste especially nice? We've had some children suffering from coughs, fever, headache, the usual childhood ailments, but we have also had a couple of kids who really required medical attention. One little girl had a urinary tract infection, but we thought maybe it was typhoid fever from drinking some bad water. When her fever shot up to 105 we put her in the hospital, a good one. Every time I gave her medicine, before the hospital stay and after, and every time I took her temperature, she never failed to thank me. One of our older girls required surgery on her leg to remove a tumor which we treated as a carbuncle for over a month. This was a painful thing, and I had to apply hot compresses, cream, and a bandage twice a day. These moments were not pleasurable, but she never failed to thank me for inflicting this pain on her. I know these are not simple pleasures as such, but the act of caring for someone and about someone here is recognized, and the response is always "Thank you, Miss."
I am amazed at how the simplest thing excites these kids. They don't need thriller rides or game-boys to make them happy. A face cloth for mopping the sweat off your face, a packet of pocket tissue, a new needle for sewing are all received with exuberance.
On the 26th of March, Manju celebrated her birthday. If you live in the slums, most likely you don't even know when your birthday is or how old you are, but Manju knew.
I am not as adept as the Indians when it comes to putting together a party on short notice, but I made some barely edible sugar cookies and found a little gift from the things left behind by the NC delegation and we had a party for Manju. It was indeed a simple affair but greatly appreciated. There were no gift bags for those attending the party, no theme, no trip to the bowling alley, just two cookies apiece, the birthday song, and two simple gifts. It was joyous, and it was enough.
Now my birthday was a different matter. I was not even planning to tell anyone that it was my birthday. Last year, you may recall, I spent my birthday in the office of foreign affairs in Calcutta because of a lapsed visa. Anyway, after Manju's party, the girls started asking me when my birthday was and my response of "I don't know" was getting me nowhere, so I told them. They immediately began planning something, and it wasn't long before everyone here at the compound knew about my birthday.
On Saturday, my doorbell rang early, but I couldn't answer the door right away, and when I did, I found the children all sitting on the floor facing my door with smiles on their faces and they began singing happy birthday to me- simple pleasures,
It was visiting day at the hostel, and the moms of the kids kept coming into the computer lab to wish me a happy birthday. Then when they all left I noticed a small crowd of people beginning to gather, and the girls were running about collecting flowers. Hmmmmmm, this day is not going to pass so quietly after all.
On request, I headed up the stairs to the hostel, and in the big room there were balloons, a small table with a birthday cake on it with my name on the cake, all the children from the hostel, and my friends from the compound. Of course there were candles on the cake, which I had to blow out, and of course, these were those candles that never go out. Everyone enjoyed that part immensely. Then there was the cutting of the cake and the birthday song, and then a traditional little ritual I could have done without, someone stuffing your mouth with a piece of the cake, not just one, but several.
The children wanted me dressed in an outfit I had recently bought, kind of a wild Punjabi thing, but just right for a party, so I excused myself for a moment and changed into that outfit. When I returned to the party, there were cheers from the kids.
We set up the CD/cassette player and put on our one tape and danced. There were other things to eat as well, and it was fun. Simple by our standards, but enough.
The really fun part for me was watching the children get so excited about this party.
"Tis the gift to be simple."