Lauren In Bangalore: Balloons and Hand-games: Sumanahalli HIV Rehabilitation Centre

(Journaled on March 31, 2012)

Early on Saturday, I went to the Sumanahalli HIV Rehabilitation Centre with Sarah and Mya. I utilized my navigation skills on the auto-rickshaw ride there. As planned, we got there in time for the family meeting. Everyone dispersed in different directions at the close of the meeting. Sarah approached the two young boys and gave them balloons. These were not ordinary balloons, but large balloons in odd shapes and with funny faces on them. Shortly after handing out the balloons, Sarah and Mya decided that they would volunteer at the Leprosy Centre located less than a kilometer away and return in two hours so that the three of us could catch an auto rickshaw together.

I was surprised that I was going to be volunteering at the HIV Centre by myself, but any anxiety that I had subsided as soon as I joined the group hanging around the entrance to the building. All of the women had mehndi, known as henna in the United States, decorating their palms. One of the more outgoing young men insisted that I put a design on his palm, so I proceeded to use my pen to draw swirls and angles on his palm. After I finished drawing, he drew a house next to an apple tree on my palm with roads to the house running down my fingers.

Last visit I found painting nails to be a great activity for the women. With this in mind, I made sure to pack nail polish in my bag. In fact, I packed color-changing nail polish that is coral indoors, but transforms into a deep purple when exposed to sunlight. I went over to the women’s courters and painted my thumb and demonstrated the color transformation for the women. The ladies found the polish fascinating and I started my rounds painting each lady’s fingernails. One of the women still had her nails painted turquois from when I had visited two days prior, but she started scraping off the polish without hesitation in order to get the color-changing polish applied. I only finished painting the nails of three women when they had to report to their morning chores.

I made my way towards the main building in hope of making myself useful. On my way over, one of the elderly female patients approached me in great distress. She was weeping. She grabbed onto my hands as she starred into my eyes and cried in Hindi to me. I embraced her trying to comfort her. She continued to speak Hindi to me with the tears gushing down her cheeks and her hands clenching mine. One of the other patients came up to us and walked the elderly woman back to her room. The other patient came back and said “Baby” and then motioned upwards to indicate passed away. Then said, “Mental” and indicated that the elderly woman in duress lives in a separate quarters with the other patients that have psychological issues. Apparently, the elderly woman believed that her baby had just died. These psychologically disturbed patients are not able to participate in the family meetings. Witnessing how the younger patient managed this episode shined light on how these women have bonded together and formed a support system for each other.

Since most of the women were busy with their chores, there were only a select few who were available to socialize with me. I found a group of a few women sitting on the steps of the main facility. I situated my self in the middle of the small staircase and pulled out my notebook, not sure of what exactly to do. Luckily, I did not have to think of any activity, because one of the men passing through grabbed the notebook and proceeded to write. Once he was finished carefully writing out his name, he handed it back for me to write my name on the page. Shortly after this, a girl who looked to be about 17 or 18 years old came up to the Centre. We introduced ourselves and immediately hit it off. We played a series of hand games, alternating teaching one another different routines. Mid hand-game, she tightly grabbed both of my hands, leaned back, and started going in a circle. We were spinning at full speed until both of us could no longer maintain our footing or balance. I later came to find out from one of the other patients that she was blind. When I first heard this, I was convinced that they were thinking of someone else. But the next time that I saw her I began to notice how her mannerisms confirmed that she was functioning without vision.

Eventually, it was time for chia and I went inside to join the others who had just finished their morning chores. Mya and Sarah arrived back from the Leprosy Centre and began making bracelets for the young boys and the women. The young boys were still enjoying the large balloons from earlier. When it came time to leave, I went to hug the woman who had scraped off the nail polish from Thursday and she asked me to paint her nails before I left. And that is exactly what I did.

Unlike my very first visit, I had to be basically dragged out of the Centre by Sara and Mya. Every time I moved towards the door, I was drawn into another conversation with another patient. This trend repeated itself half a dozen times between the time that Mya and Sarah told me that we had to go and the time that I physically left the facility.