It rained again today. A slow, gentle rain. Apparently, in this part of India precipitation in December is almost unheard of, making everyone wonder about the last four days. But to me the rain has a fresh quality, and at the end of the day it clears Bangalore’s polluted skies to reveal a rich blue.
In many ways this is a land of dreams. The women, in their elegant saris and long black braids, have a regal dignity about them; the food is very healthy and, in my opinion, the tastiest in the world; and the art is intricate, elaborate, and exotic. Color is practically worshipped here, and wearing subtle shades is fauxpas (black is believed to attract mosquitoes the concept of “basic black” is just not applicable). People here create their own rainbows and celebrate life in a way I’ve never seen before.
On the other hand, it is here in India that I’ve been witness to unbelievable desperation. In busy marketplaces, extremely disfigured people, barely recognizable as humans, lay on small plastic platforms with rollers, using one arm to pull themselves along as the rest of their limp bodies drag behind. Small children with ratty hair and dirt-smeared faces knock on car windows at stoplights, peering in with such pained eyes eyes that you can’t just wave away because they’re too real. These are not just starving children on TV commercials; they’re in front of you, tapping you lightly on your arm with their tiny fingers, begging you quietly to please, please buy their Q-Tips. Sometimes parents will maim their children in order to make them look more pitiful, and the children must bring home a certain quota by the end of the day or be denied food or beaten.
The day I arrived in Bangalore I attended a human rights competition hosted by the Mithra Foundation. Schools from all over the Indian state of Karnataka presented their knowledge on the topics of women’s rights, the media, and child labor through speeches, songs, and dances. Special guest the Bornfree Art School, an arts school for street children, also gave a short performance and talk on child labor. These kids are survivors of child labor; one had been trained as a tight-rope walker and thrust into a circus at the age of five, and another had been working on construction sites, carrying a hundred kilos of materials on his head everyday since he was seven. I sank into my seat that day, horrified because I knew the jeans I was wearing had been made in a third world country, most likely by children. The concept of child labor was no longer theoretical, no longer a sad occurrence somewhere else, but instead embodied in the bigcheeked boy who handed me a brochure of the Bornfree Art School and in the nine year-old with calloused feet who came and sat beside me. Their stories, their scars suddenly they were all tangible, and I (in my jeans) felt somehow responsible for these children’s tragedies.
I understood that the purpose of the program was not to criticize but to make me aware. People all over the world, myself included, shake their heads in disgust at the practice of child labor, yet in reality we continue shopping at Wal-Mart and Old Navy just the same because it’s convenient. And I can continue to do so, if I choose, but I must understand fully the nature of what I am perpetuating.
With that in mind, I have begun working at the Mithra Foundation’s school for slum children, playing with the kids and teaching them spoken English. Although they may not understand me all the time, they are extremely enthusiastic and crave any kind of contact. They crowd around me, chattering about anything and everything that comes to their minds and try to repeat English words just the way I say them. Although I am a complete novice at teaching and feel like I’m stumbling along, they don’t seem to care, and every time they see me they shout out a thousand Good-Morning-Misses and Good-Afternoon-Misses and Hi-Misses. The teachers-in-training also give me special attention. “I am never talking to a foreigner before,” one of them confessed to me. “It is making us very happy to see you.” They have reached out to me, showing me their town, the best tailor and baker, telling me how much it should cost to have a certain type of dress stitched.
The Mithra Foundation is nearing the final stages of construction of a new school building for the children. It will include dormitories for the children, so they can stay off the streets, a little library, a small concrete stage, and a computer lab. At the moment Mithra teaches up to the sixth standard (ten and eleven year-olds), and hopefully next year it will have the facilities to be able to include a seventh standard. There is quite a lot of good energy at the school, and I’m very happy to take part in it. Mithra also has other centers in Bangalore that deal with vocational training and micro-credit programs for women, and although I haven’t been able to visit them as yet, I hope to soon. And in a week I will be traveling with directors Bella and Joe Rosario to a human rights convention for teachers-in-training.
There is so much that can be done here so many people to get to know, so many children to love and I regret the feeling that I cannot give enough. But in this process I can also feel myself stretching in new and uncomfortable ways, and hopefully these people will teach me to understand how to help them. It isn’t pleasant to confront my own shortcomings, especially when I want so badly to make a lasting, positive contribution to life here, but I’m doing what I can.
The fact that I am actually in India, actually working for a human rights program that reaches out to impoverished, underprivileged people is itself a miracle. Part of me never thought this would happen. I have you to thank; truly, without your support I would not be here. You have reached out to help me, on short notice, in such a way that has completely surpassed my expectations and really touched me. I hope to convey to the children the same sense of goodwill that you have shown me. Thank you so much. Already this has been an experience that I will never forget. For more information on Mithra and Susila Dharma projects in India, go to MITHRA PAGE OF SDIA WEBSITE