All yesterday Aurora talked about India. When were she and her friends going to
India? After snack? After the library? She was about to pop.
She and her two buddies gathered at our neighbors while I
set up. Folktales to be read. Saris decorating the room. Sitar music on the stereo.
It was time. We
boarded our imaginary train, chugged across the sidewalk and opened the door to
India! We identified it on
the globe to be certain we were in the right place.
The girls costumed up and enjoyed a dance lesson in
traditional Indian movement from the same neighbor who loaned me all the
beautiful garments. The girls
jangled in the ghungroos tied round their ankles.
We stretched our bodies with yoga. The girls mooed as cows, meowed as cats with arched backs,
and hissed as cobras being charmed by a pungi.
As we sat to enjoy our fresh mango, which the girls
collectively declared that as of that moment they no longer liked eating, we
read about camels and monks and coconut drinks and elephant crossing and
fluttering saris and other fun things that might be seen on the way to a monkey
wedding in The Road to Mumbai
(Jeyaveeran, 2004).
Finally, the girls decorated elephant masks. Only, the girls were not ready to be
finished and requested one last go at dancing before they de-robed. They giggled and swirled and spun
and stomped.
Today when Aurora woke up she asked, “Which country are we
going to visit today, Mom?”
