Zebra Tears Page 4

  After the main assembly, first period was always religion taught by Mother Clara. She was a short, thin nun with very dark skin. When she smiled, her eyes and teeth shone so bright. She took me by the hand and brought me to the front of the class while the other nun who had escorted me there waved to everyone and left.

  Mother Clara looked at a folder that was probably mine and then smiled. She introduced me to a sea of faces I did not know yet. “This is Tess, and she has come all the way from Bombay as a new boarder, and I want everyone to welcome her. I will also want one volunteer to take her to her next class,” and before she could finish her request, a mighty wave of hands raised to volunteer for the task. I was so thrilled to see that they all wanted to be my friend, and I could not wait to discover who they all were. We were into our catechism book going over the prayers we needed to learn by heart when the bell finally sounded and my classmates escorted me two doors down to the next room.

  This was Miss Vosanty, an Indian woman wearing a sari. She was very pretty, wearing a white, tight blouse under her sari made of a beautiful silky blue material that repeatedly wrapped around her waist and ended casually thrown over her left shoulder. “Welcome, Tess. I am Miss Vosanty, your Hindi teacher. Do you speak Hindi?” I explained that I had not yet mastered the art of conversation. She laughingly remarked that I would be speaking Hindi like a “pukka Indian.” I guessed pukka meant “perfect” or something! When the bell rang, everyone left the class and went back to the main classroom to retrieve their lunch pails. They moved out to the hallway and opened up their lunch pails to eat. The smell that filled my nostrils was enough to make me faint. I took long whiffs as I slowly walked toward the door.

  Ava found me through the crowds of girls and grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go. Everyone is waiting in line for lunch. You can’t waste time standing around and talking, or you will be punished without lunch.” I was so embarrassed when the day scholars heard her say that. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me up. I could see their puzzled faces while she pulled me away from them. I began to run alongside her as she held on to my wrist. We finally caught up to the line that was walking away. We were the last two in line, and I could see Mother Doris’s angry face as she stopped walking, waiting for us to pass her. She resumed walking next to me, saying that this would be the only time I could be late. “In the future don’t bother coming to the refectory if the others have left,” she said sternly.

  Lunch consisted of a little rice and, yes, the same gravy. This time there were bits and pieces of boiled eggs mixed in. The girls called it “egg curry.” I was still hungry after leaving the refectory when I asked Ava, “What now?” She shrugged her shoulders, telling me to go find my new day scholar friends, as they could tell me which would be my next class after lunch. I agreed and took off in a run.

  There they were, sitting on the concrete floor in the hallway. Some were skipping rope, while others were playing stone jacks and yet others were still eating. The day scholars had brought lunch from home in little round tin containers that stacked one on top of the other, which separated the different foods. A metal band held it together from the base up, and it locked when you turned a small handle. These containers are dabbas, an Indian-style tiffin box. The girls all picked and shared from each other, a buffet served for a queen. Their food smelled so wonderful that my mouth watered for a taste.

  One of the girls, Philomena, I think, nudged me to try some, so without hesitation, I got on my knees and reached for a roti (flat bread). With my fingers I picked up a chunk of meat, some curried vegetables, and Indian salad. I filled my roti with all the ingredients and rolled it up like a burrito, and with a couple of bites I had consumed the whole thing, dripping curry sauce all over the front of my uniform. “Oh God, how wonderful was the taste,” I told them. The girls started giggling, because they thought they had never seen a white girl enjoy Indian food so much. I wish I could do this every day, I thought. Missing the refectory for lunch wouldn’t be so bad.

  The girls had fun fixing me different variations of filled roti and watching me devour the food. They invited me every afternoon to help them finish their lunches if I wanted. I confided in them that we did not get too much to eat as a boarder and would appreciate anything they had to spare. Of course, Mother Doris would never hear it from my lips, and I hoped there were no boarders watching me stuff my face with such delicious cuisine. From then on every lunch during the week became a banquet for me. The girls turned into such good friends and enjoyed bringing in different foods for me to taste. They would add hot chilies just to see if I could do it. They just couldn’t believe I could eat such spicy, hot food and thought they had created a spice monster.

  School let out that first day at 5:00 p.m., when the day scholars went home and the silence within the confines of the school was deafening! Anna was waiting for me with my new uniforms, but when I entered the room she had this look of disbelief on her face. “How could anyone destroy a uniform in one day?” she yelled. My smile left my face immediately, as I looked down my dress.

  “Oops!” I was such a terrible mess. I wouldn’t have to tell anyone of my dining experiences; they could see it all over my clothes. I tried brushing off all the dried-up curry stains from the uniform, but to no avail. She came around her sewing machine with her hands raised and brought them down on my shoulders. I got a good shaking, with a couple of slaps to my head, and then she literally ripped the uniform off me. She left me standing in my petticoat and white blouse while she immediately soaked it in a sink that was in the corner of her room. I was crying now, as I heard her say, “Mother Doris will hear of this.”

  I begged Anna, “Please don’t tell. I am so sorry, Anna.” I promised I would do anything for her if she would just forgive me. I even hugged her while she pried my arms off her waist, telling me to take my new uniforms and leave. I slowly walked out of the room, carrying my uniforms as though they were made of gold, and then I heard her say, “You come back tomorrow after school and help me sweep the room, and I won’t tell.” I ran back to her and hugged her again, and this time she smiled and returned my hug.

  By now I was considered old news around school and had conformed to its rules and regulations, although I enjoyed some good lunches now and then when the opportunity arose. I visited Anna more often after school, which was the best thing that could have happened to me. Anna became my best friend, to whom I could pour my heart out. She kept all our talks confidential, and I found her to be a great counselor. When I found out that we took a bath only once every two weeks, Anna would sneak me into the bath stall once a week with water she pulled up from the well. We didn’t have hot or cold running water for baths; instead we physically pulled a bucket from the well. It was always cold, but Anna would say it was for her, and the kitchen worker would allow her a bucket of hot water to mix. Anna would get into one stall and wait until I had finished my bath, and I would always leave enough water for her to wet her hair. I would sneak back to the dormitory while she walked back into the kitchen with the empty buckets and her hair tied up in a towel.

  To describe the place as sanitary would be an understatement; it consisted of eight bath stalls with four metal walls and a tin roof. While pouring water from the bucket over your head, you stood on a four-foot square flat, smooth stone placed on the ground. The bucket didn’t hold too much water, so we had to be conservative with its use. In addition, a broken wooden chair held your clean clothes and towel. It was always a struggle to try and not wet the clean clothes by keeping them far enough, but there was the dilemma of having to walk onto dirt after a bath to reach the clean clothes. What is a girl to do?

  All the bath stalls connected to each other and stood outdoors, detached from the school building but close enough to the kitchen. Just past the bath stalls stood a dog pound that held two of the most vicious German shepherd guard dogs. On bath day, we would line up against the school wall waiting our turn at a bath. This was the only day we could groom our hair with
trims, cut our nails, and be treated for lice. It was a noisy two-hour wait with everyone talking above the sound of barking dogs, but for a time of freedom from Mother Doris’s clutches it was well worth it.

  My first letter-writing day was quite an experience. Once a month, we had to write letters home. We received letters regularly from Mummy, addressed to both of us, and so we took turns reading them. Her letters always said the same things, encouragement to do well in school and to behave ourselves for the wonderful nuns at the convent. Writing back to her probably had the same effect, as we were not permitted to write what we wanted, thought, or felt.

  With one piece of paper and ten minutes to finish, I poured my heart out to Mummy telling her how I hated it there and wanted to come home. I asked for another sheet of paper, as front and back could not contain all I had to say. When I approached the desk, Mother Doris looked up from the book she was reading and asked if I was finished writing. When I asked for more paper, she put out her hand for my letter and proceeded to read it. Her face had a sadistic smile while she ripped it into small pieces and handed me another piece of paper saying, “Write a better letter.”

  I didn’t understand what she meant and started to write all I had written before, properly checking for grammar and spelling mistakes. I found I was the last one remaining while all the others had finished and left the room. Mother Doris came and stood behind my desk looking over my shoulder. She reached down and put a blank page in front of me, removing the one I was writing. She laid the whole stack of letters written by the others next to my page and told me to read a few. I gave her a puzzled look, and all she did was point to the stack of letters. I looked back at them, read the first one, the second, and then the third, and realized they were all identical. I looked at her and saw her smile. “I want you to write a letter just like those,” she said while ripping up my second letter. This is what I recollect I wrote, “Dear Mummy, I am doing well in school, and I love it here. The food is great, and I am studying very hard. Love, Tess.”

  After that lesson in letter writing, I always sat next to Ava and copied off her page, just adding my needs and wants at the end of each letter; at least it sounded a little different. There were times I would just sign next to Ava’s signature and be done with it.

  Almost a year later I asked Mother Doris on letter day if I could ask my mum for a parcel since it was going to be my tenth birthday soon. She nodded her approval, and I was allowed two sheets of paper to fill in my request. I asked Mummy to please send me a birthday dress with new shoes, the shiny black ones; lots of bubble gum; a cake with candles; and anything else she wanted. I wanted so much to receive a parcel from home as the rich girls did and maybe get a place in the cupboard with my number thirty-four on the jar.

  I was almost ten years old and had never tasted bubble gum. I remember on one occasion Mina came, took me by the hand, and wanted me to follow her. She said she had something great to show me. The rich girls hung out by themselves, never socializing with the rest of the riff raff. From a secured place behind a pillar we watched the wonders of bubble blowing. I could not believe how they blew such huge bubbles without hurting themselves.

  After watching them for a while, Mina pulled me aside and opened her hand. She held a big wad of bubble gum rolled up into a pink ball. She had the cutest smile as she tried dividing it, then popping her half into her mouth. She started chewing and tried to blow bubbles as the other girls did but had not quite mastered it. I still held the piece she gave me and wondered where she had gotten it. She laughed, giggled, and said she had picked it up after the girls had thrown it away. She did say she had washed it good and that we should follow them to see where they would throw their new batch, as it would still taste sweet. Wow! I thought, for a four year old, she was so bright; because the new batch was still sweet even after rinsing thoroughly. Mina and I spent many a playtime practicing blowing bubbles. We had a secret place behind the water tank where no one could see us, not even Mother Doris. Now I wanted to taste bubblegum from the beginning, fresh out of its wrapper.

  I waited so patiently for Mummy’s parcel to arrive in time for my birthday. Every day after school I would run to see Mother Doris and ask if it had arrived, and every day she shook her head no. September 24 was here, and there was nothing yet in the form of a parcel.

  I went to sleep that night feeling very sad and disappointed. I awoke once that night to use the restroom, and on my way there I awakened Mina. Her bed was still dry, and I figured I might as well take her along, hoping to avoid an accident. Mina was getting a lot better at not wetting her bed, and the frog no longer scared her. I would pet and play with it, showing that it could not hurt her.

  It was 5:00 a.m., time to get ready for mass. I stepped out of my mosquito net and got the shock of my life. At the foot of my bed was a straight-back chair covered with wonderful things. There was a beautiful new frock and shiny black shoes, even a new pair of socks. The dress was light green with little yellow ducks. It had puffed sleeves and three layers for the skirt. It was the most beautiful dress in the whole world. Ava came around with a big smile, and so did Mother Doris. I could not believe that Mother Doris could even smile. She said I could wear the dress for my birthday all day so everyone would know it was my special day. I jumped up and down and tried to hug her, but she pushed me away, telling me to hurry up.

  I rushed around with my basin and washed up. I stood there just staring in disbelief. Ava, being such a great artist, had made a colorful sign saying “Happy Birthday, Tess” taped to the back of the chair. My dress with all its frills sat on the chair with the shoes and socks just poking out from under it. There was a large wrapped box on the floor under the chair with a card. “That will have to wait until after school,” Mother Doris informed me, as she started shooing all the girls away from me to line up for mass.

  I felt like a princess as I walked in line to mass that morning. I found a place to sit next to Anna. She looked so happy to see me that morning, pinching my arm gently to wish me my happy day. I leaned against her, letting her know I loved her for making me such a beautiful dress, even if mummy had paid for it. Anna had chosen the colors and designed the dress; she had even gone to the store outside our school for my shoes and socks, doing this just for me!

  When Jesus came to visit that morning, I danced on my molar for Him. I held my new dress on each side and turned around asking Him, “How do I look?” Jesus just laughed and hugged me. I felt so happy to be alive and have the love of two of the most wonderful people in the world. I told Jesus how nice Anna was and wondered if He had met her. I pointed to my right and asked Him if He could see her through my mouth. I told Him to please watch over my friend and make sure that Mother Doris never finds out about her kindness toward me. Jesus put His finger to his lips and smiled. I waved good-bye to Him while He slid down my throat, and I opened my eyes to see Anna on her knees too, her hands clutched in prayer.

  At school assembly that morning I felt so distinct. I was the only one in a pretty dress, while everyone else, even the rich girls, had on their school uniforms. My classes were so exciting that day, because everyone treated me so special, touching my dress and the silky white ribbons that tied my pigtails. I could have floated on air all day, not wanting it to end. I especially enjoyed the lunch that my friends shared with me, taking extra care not to drop anything on my new dress.

  After school I visited Anna to thank her again for my beautiful dress and tell her about my day, but she wasn’t there. I was looking all over for her when I bumped into a nun coming into the room as I was leaving. It was Mother Virginia, my piano teacher. “Where is Anna, Mother?” I inquired. She told me that Anna had to leave the school for a few days because her mother was very sick and needing her care. I got so upset that she wasn’t there, because I needed to tell her about the wonderful day I had.

  I went back to my dormitory and found the big box sitting on my bed. I sat down and dropped the card on my pillow and began opening the present
very slowly, wishing Anna could have been there to see what I had received from Mummy.

  Ava and a bunch of girls stood around my bed while I opened up the box. It was full of wonderful surprises. It was not just one present but many little ones: notebooks, pencils, a sharpener, a small paint box, a big bag of bubble gum with other mixed candies, six handkerchiefs with my initials and number, and best of all, a holy picture of a beautiful angel holding the hand of a little girl while she crossed a dangerous-looking bridge. I turned it over, and there it said, “My dearest Tess, Have a happy birthday, with God’s blessings. Your friend always, Anna.” I pressed the picture to my heart and noticed the girls picking up and looking over all the gifts inside the box. I wondered how Anna’s present got inside a parcel from Mummy.

  I pulled Ava aside and showed her my beautiful picture. That was when I learned that Mummy could not send me a parcel because it was too costly. Mother Superior received some money from her to buy me a dress and shoes. However, where had all the presents come from? Ava said that Anna had arranged for all the rest. That meant that all the presents were from Anna and not Mummy! I picked up the card and opened it. Ten rupees lay in it with “Happy birthday, darling. Your ever-loving Mums.” I suddenly felt quite angry that the parcel had not come from Mummy, only the card and money. I was sadder yet that Anna wasn’t around for me to thank her. I really needed her hugs right then. I tried to understand what was happening to me, but my mixed emotions only brought on a burst of tears. Only Mina stayed at my side, while the others disappeared. I guess no one understood how I felt. How could they?