Kids Kids Kids!!

Today I was reminded of the long forgotten feeling of childhood. I had the grand opportunity of spending majority of my Sunday with children. First, we volunteered at an orphanage during their play time. Second, the “house boy” Mark, at the guest house I am staying at, invited me to play games with the children out on the street.
As I approached the children their eyes became bright and excited. All of them running around calling me “didi” (sister), dragging me to come play with them. I have never seen children so inclusive before, constantly reminding each other in Hindi to include me in the game (even though I had no clue how to play).
Just a bit of the culture I was looking for while I was in India. All the kids called me “didi” and Mark “Mark Bhaiya” (Mark brother). One of the girls, just a few years younger than me had just recently gotten engaged and now everyone called her Bhabhi (Sister in-law). They are just names, or titles as some will call it, but referring to me as “didi” automatically included me into their little family of games and ignored the fact that I was a perfect stranger. To go off on a bit of a tangent here I am reading a book about the India-Pakistan Partition by one of the women who came to speak to us at orientation. Her name is Urvashi Butalia and her book is named “The Other Side of Silence: Voices from the Partition”. In this book there is a paragraph that makes me think of this same thing. An uncle and niece are united for the first time ever in their lives as the niece was born the partition. This is their first conversation over the phone when the uncle finds out the niece has made the dangerous trip to Pakistan to meet him. The niece’s friend answers the phone first:
“‘I believe my daughter is staying with you. Please call my daughter; I would like to speak to her.’ (The niece gets on the phone) ‘Beti, what are you doing there? This is your home. You must come home at once and you must stay here. Give me your address and I’ll come and pick you up’. No preamble, no greeting, just a direct, no nonsense picking up of family ties. I was both touched and taken aback.”
My friend and I were having a discussion about what India culture really is; I believe this is some of it. I cherish this.
I digress.
As I was saying, these kids were just overwhelming me with childhood memories. They were playing in the middle of the street without any care in the world. Kids were running around me fearlessly climbing up high walls and jumping in piles of construction sand and bricks. They competitively played barefoot, to improve their game, without the slightest concern of falling on their faces or getting cut from the bricks. Hand clapping games and singing songs kept them consumed for hours. I had forgotten that part of childhood, and enjoyed being able to watch and even feel like a kid again.