MUWCI
TWO YEARS AT THE HEART OF INDIA
HOMESTAYS
24 September, 2016
Homestays - mandatory for all muwci students.
All of us had been split into three groups, and each group went on a different weekend. I was attributed to the third and last homestay weekend. Fifty of us had left school by foot in the late afternoon. Part of the experience was us walking to the villages on our own. We were walking on the old asphalt road, walking through the endless green, watching the breathtaking view of the mountains on the horizon. As we were walking through the villages, we could see eyes turning, people weren’t surprised but were intrigued by us, probably asking themselves why students from the hill were suddenly hiking down the road. There were five different villages in which we were staying, and I was meant to stay in the last and furthest one, along with five other students. After one and a half hours of walking, we finally made it to Badash. Our assigned buddy and host was nowhere to find, so we were taken to the neighboring house where two other MUWCI students were staying. We were offered a cup of chai masala, and whilst sipping the hot tea, we started exchanging names and ages.
A girl came running inside the house, saying something in Marathi, the local language in the state of Maharashtra. Luckily, my Indian co-year Sherayu who was doing the homestay with me was fluent in Marathi. Our host had gotten back to the village so we made our way back outside, and there she was standing. Nikita, nine years old, beautiful long hair and a vibrant pink dress with a large smile on her face. It had started to rain so we hurried inside. We walked into an old clay house with a metal roofing. I had to duck in order not to bang my head whilst walking through the door. On the left, there were four cows lying in the hay. Behind them was a little opening to the main house. We walked into a dark room, which Nikita was really proud to welcome us in. There were two shelves filled with metal kitchenware, stacked perfectly and symmetrically. On the left was a large metal frame with a thin blanket on it, Nikita and her mother’s bed. Behind it was the kitchen with even more dishes, a portable gas stove and large buckets filled with water, used for drinking and cooking, as well as for washing. In the back right corner was a wall, about a meter high. Behind it the toilets and shower, a hole in the floor.
Nikita sat us down on the bed and we were offered another cup of chai masala, as delicious as the previous one. Nikita seemed so excited to welcome us in her home, and I was trying my best to show how incredibly grateful I was to be there. She pulled out a wooden board and little palettes with different colors, I wish I could remember the name of the game. I was a terrible player, but Sherayu and Nikita both perfectly knew what they were doing. After half an hour filled with laughter based on things I didn’t understand, Sherayu and I decided to go help prepare dinner. Nikita’s mother was sitting on the floor, starting a fire. We were handed potatoes and onions and we started cutting, using a very intriguing tool difficult to describe. Our host started making chapati, mixing the flour and water to form a flawless dough. She knew exactly how much flour and how much water was needed for the perfect dough. I was fascinated by her technique, the way she turned the dough in her hands and fried it on the metal plate. I sat there, trying to participate in the conversation by asking Sherayu to translate or speaking myself. Nikita’s mother spoke almost no English, but one would be surprised how little language actually matters.
I underestimated how much you can communicate with a smile.
Between the long silences, we started learning about and from each other. Sherayu was cooking something with sprouts, potatoes and other ingredients foreign to me. I turned around and saw Nikita’s mother milking the cows. Nikita herself was sitting on the bed doing schoolwork. Sherayu and I kept talking, and she started telling me tales about Indian culture, her family, and her home. Once she had finished the dish, we both went back to the main room, where Nikita was doing her maths homework. Sherayu started helping her, and I was playing with Nikita’s cousin, probably five years old, who had come to visit. Both were so beautiful with their large brown eyes, full of curiosity and wonder, and filled with intelligence and love. Nikita’s mom called us for dinner, and we sat down on the kitchen floor. We started eating the chapati, the rice, the potatoes and the red curry. As we were eating, I realized how many preconceived ideas I had about India, for example how you are never allowed to eat with your left hand in India. This didn’t seem to be true for neither the Indians at MUWCI nor Nikita’s family. After finishing dinner, Nikita spread out a blanket on the floor and went to get several pillows. She communicated that her mother and she were going to sleep on the floor and give us the bed. We tried fighting it, but she insisted. I was incredibly touched by their generosity towards us strangers. We then washed the dishes and went to bed.
The next morning, we were woken up at 6:55. I hurried out of bed, as I had to leave at 7 in order to make it back to school. (I’m going to Uttarakhand for travel week, where we will be doing 7 days of hiking and our teacher had asked us to be back at school in time. He had planned a practice hike leaving school at 9am.) Nikita’s mother was in the process of preparing chai masala with the milk from the cows. I hurried to drink it, trying to do so without burning myself, and after thanking Nikita and her mother, I made my way back to school. Sherayu who didn’t have to take part in the hike stayed behind to walk back with Nikita about half an hour later. I was exhausted. I had probably only slept about two hours. I decided to do what all the second years do, hitch hike back to the school’s gate, and the motorcycle took me back to school in less than half an hour. I was dropped off at the gate and started walking back up the hill.
Submerged with exhaustion, joy, and gratitude, I made my way to the admin block, ready for the hike up mount wilco.
That’s all for now as I can barely keep my eyes open.