'it's fun to stay at the YMCA'

It is funny how something as small as a smile can connect two people in such a way that is ever changing. This seemingly insignificant gesture, when done honestly, can leave a lasting impression. Today I made many invisible bonds with the young children of the Madras YMCA Center for Destitute Boys. Throughout the course of the day, each timid glance turned toothy grin has been etched in my mind as memories that I shall forever cherish.
I set out on this morning’s service visit not knowing what to expect only hoping for an opportunity to interact with local people. Without holding my expectations too high, I was anxious to start the trip and excited for my small group number of only 8 students. Once we were all piled into the van that would be our magic carpet for the day, we learned of our itinerary and the pleasant anticipation inside my stomach grew. Our guide, Mr. Jeevakumar told us that we were to visit 4 different YMCA and YWCA centers throughout our 9 hour day. Without any further details, we set out on our adventure and into the realm of Chennai.
Passing through immigrations we entered the busy streets swarming with traffic composed of cars, rickshaws, bicycles, pedestrians and the occasional bull, goat or horse. We flew past the street-side vendors selling their fruits and treats, past the gigantic billboards that boasted advertisements for music, and past the long stretch of sand littered with bodies. After a dangerous yet effective U-turn, we entered the gated community of the YMCA Center for Destitute Boys, the act which began my series of smiles.
From a distance I could see the kids, in their uniformed red YMCA shirts, frantically running toward their main center in order to beat our car to the entrance. Before leaving our vehicle, Mr. Jeevakumar informed us that we would be spending the next 3 hours with these boys which thrilled my anticipation and transformed it into excitement. We made our way into the large open center of the YMCA and found 100 young boys seated around tables waiting for us 8 girls to take our seats in the front of the room. Feeling like a cross between a member of a panel of judges and a member of a royal family, I took my seat along with the other students and overlooked the shy that returned our observation.
Within minutes the ice was broken as songs were performed to us in small groups and applause and laughter broke the silence. While listening to these young boys sing I glanced around the room and made eye contact with a boy seated at a table near the front. I smiled at him hoping not to make him uncomfortable and in return I was granted the biggest grin. This happened many times throughout our afternoon performance swap where the boys would sing and then we would treat them to a off-key rendition of “If You’re Happy and You Know It…”, a song that I have not sung since the days when recess was considered a critical part of my education. These boys, who ranged from ages 5 to 16, were all from destitute homes. They were placed into the YMCA by the Indian government after their parents died or a single parent could not manage to support their child. These 100 boys lived were dispersed into four cottages that each housed 25 boys. With new guidance, the boys work on their education, are cared for by mother-figures, and are encouraged to succeed in careers by offering them vocational training in engineering, metalwork and weaving. The boys were clearly well behaved and through their support team of giving adults, they were offered new confidence in replace of a broken past.

Mr. Jeevakumar explained the many trials that these boys had suffered and presented the new assistance and life that they now were leading. Moving from songs to questions, Mr. Jeevakumar translated the boys’ inquiries about American fruit, our wildlife, politics and the crazy life aboard a ship. Their questions were mature for their childish figures and demonstrated the difference of their culture in comparison to ours which is obsessed with mass media and the Hollywood minute. They wanted to know what we studied and what we did for hobbies back in the United States. Answering that I enjoyed ballet as my pastime, I was later trapped in a corner with 30 excited boys screaming “dance!” at me until I appeased them with a few pirouettes and leg lifts.
After they were fully satisfied by our information about the states, the boys stood to retreat into their respective cottages. As they slowly exited the room the first young boy who returned my smile walked up to my table and whispered, “Please come and visit me”. With another quick smile and a frenzied escape the room fell silent as the boys positioned themselves in their rooms and awaited our arrival. Being only 8 students and having 3 hours to play, we were set free with no instructions but to enjoy ourselves. “Split up” said Mr. Jeevakumar, “Have some fun!” With no further comments I felt as though I was venturing into the jungle, an unknown atmosphere that I had no way to prepare for.

As soon as I entered the first cottage I was taken aback by how clean the place was. The two large rooms were composed of neat little beds each with a boy seated upon it. As soon as I waved and said hello, the hours of smiles, dance, and photos began. With no adult supervision and being alone in this adventure, the boys flocked over to me with excitement over this casual contact with a foreign female. With my camera they begged to take pictures and were gracious at the chance to pose for portraits and take turns playing photographer. I must say that without their help I would not have had documentation that I was there as they were as fascinated with my “super hairstyle” as I was with their flexible figures and toothy grins. The boys fought for my attention and began hanging from the ceiling rafters becoming monkeys in the jungle that I had first feared.
They were captivated by my English and imitated the phrases they found amusing such as “oh wow” and “careful”. I was forced into performing the Macarena, which in another world would have been a humiliating chance for future blackmail, but there it was just plain fun. I found the boy who had earlier beckoned me to visit and I learned his name was Moon…or at least that was his English name. They boys Tamil names were easy for me to reproduce after mimicking each syllabyl, but after letting a few minutes pass I would forget how to say them since their pronunciation and sounds were so foreign to me. Names such as Manikandan, Kasdura and Sivasundarun are not as simple to remember when there are 40 children crowded among 1 girl and I was feeling overwhelmed.

But I had an amazing time. Moon and Kasdura stayed at my side until it was time for me to leave. They held my hands with a sense of affection and need for female love. The smiles scattered throughout my photographs will forever be souveniers of my time with them. I cannot forget the feelings that accompanied these smiles and I will forever hope for the best in their futures.