Puri in Orissa is famous for its interesting Hindu Architecture, above all the JaganNath temple where millions of Hindu pelgriums come every year for "tirath yatra".
Hanneke's bejaarden knew of her plans to visit India. They wanted to contribute something for India.Something for the children as they have such lovely eyes and smile as see on the TV. Do they have any clothes? or enough to eat? or toys to play with? "They have each other", Hanneke tried many times to explain the social conditions there. Ok, do something ,but, "lets not buy anything but make something for them. "But what? "I know what" added Frida, "last year I knitted a Nijntje for my grand child."
"Wow,what a good idea, lets knit a few nijntjes for the streetkids." The patterns were distributed and soon there was wool every where, in different colours.There were happy faces , big eyes , enormous concentration and very swift hands buzy knitting those useful nijntes for the far away brown kids. A few became 300....and it took more than a bag... infact three bags for the nijntes to find their their way to India.
In Puri we stayed in the historical hotel, built for the railway officers during the colonial period. Nothing ever changed in the hotel ever since.Same room set-up with Victorian furniture , same mosquito nets, same dining room, same dresses for the waitors who always served the same menu and they always wore white hand gloves. Perhaps the only hotel in India where non-veg meals are normal and a vegetarian khana has to be ordered a day before.
Making enquiries from the staff from the hotel we came to learn about a 'lepra basti', just outside the city. Ruben and myself took a scooter rikshaw the next day .In India whenever the city ends the muddy roads begin and the small wheels of our rikshaw had to work very hard to plough through the thick ,dry and stuffy mud. And by the time we got there we both looked very much a part of the mother earth.
The Lepra basti was a a shock.It was very impressive and pathatic to be there.It was a large basti, or colony with more than a thousand inhabitants, almost all of them suffering from lepra.(lepra is not contegious anymore) People lived in kuccha (mud)houses.There were meeting spaces, dispensaries,where patients come for new bandages, two to three times a week, a hospital with separate wards for men and women. And at a little distance across the road was a school-complex with the name of the school on the red wall. The Beatrix School. "Wow, it's Dutch name."But, the school was closed as today was Sunday. And at the basti the atmosphere was quite emotional.The inhabitants were sitting or lying outside their huts- some of them were on the road begging or sitting in a low,wooden "lepra car" with iron wheels being pulled by another one to be moved from one place to another, making the familiar noise which can be recognised from distant .The whole basti smelled of strong detergents or medicines.
The NIJNTJES had finally found their home. The next day we were back. And this time three of us, with bags full of the nijntjes and used clothes.It was Monday and the school was open and full of life. The kids were inside. The doors and windows of the class rooms were open and one could hear the kids like a millions of bees had located one single flower. They all were squatted on the floor in their clean blue and blue uniform. Our approach was noticed and suddely for a moment it was a pin drop silence, and we could feel that hunderds of big eyes staring at us. Even the headmistress noticed the silence and came out of her room."My name is Christina, please come in". Also a Dutch name,thought Ruben.As we told her our story of the Dutch bejaarden of Amsterdam, about the nijntjes and about the clothes, we could feel her interest in us and at the same time she was unfolding her cotton bag and took out some edibles that her mother had made in her village where she spent her weekend. "Please share it with me- my mother will be very happy."How many of these toys About tree hundred." We saw her thinking. "But we have more than seven hundred children. It does'nt matter-we'll give them whenever someone has earned it, either in the sports or in the exams. Would you like to visit the classes?"
The kids welcomed us in theis classes. They sang for us. They talked with us in Oriya, Hindi and some English. "What would you like to become when you are big?"was our general question to them. "A doctor."was answered by the most, "so that we can help our parents". "Are all the kids from lepra parents? " "No,no , they are all mixed. About 300 from the basti here and the rest from normal parents from the village here. As you know, lepra is not contagious."
We were very emotional and exited and felt happy for the oost-oever bewoners. "Shall I call them outside so that you can give them the toys yourself. Let them hold it once and let them feel it. Then I'll keep them in my room for the time being."
Back in Amsterdam I think often about the other four hundred kids who have not earned to keep the Dutch Nijntjes.
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