I have been home now for exactly 2 weeks. And it has taken me those 2 weeks to even begin to understand my 3 week stay in India.
In those 3 weeks I experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I was pushed so far outside my comfort zone that my comfort zone is now a stranger to me. My heart was filled to a capacity that I didn’t now existed. And I was reminded yet again that no person is an island entire of themselves, everyone is a piece of the continent a part of the main…
Highest of Highs
1. Opening Ceremonies in the Berna Community
Our group donned their traditional head coverings, within second we were drenched in sweat as we made the trek from our home away from home to what would become our build site. We were greeted with tentative smiles and lays of what smelt like marigold flowers. Our foreheads were imprinted with a bindi- red for prosperity. The child gathered around but didn’t play- as if they were contemplating whether to grant these “goras” their friendship.
We spent the next hour participating in a offering to the Hindu gods, asking for a blessing on the rocks that would serve as the foundation to the kitchen’s school- which our group would be building.
Such a powerful experience to watch as the students carried the stones to the trench dug for the foundation, and watching as the stones were covered in cement.
2. Community Days
Gyanni Bi is a woman of no older than 50, she has 2 daughters and 1 son. She has a husband who works doing manual labour in a nearby community. They live in a home made by their own hands. She completes all the household chores, fetching water, feeding the livestock, making the meals as well as serving as the local school’s cook. After her morning chores she treks to the local school to make roti for the children. It is for her and the children for whom she cooks- that we are building the kitchen for.
On a number of occasions we had the opportunity to learn from Gyanni Bi, she took us on her morning water walk, where the participants had an opportunity to pumped the water, learn about the complexities of water consumption and carry the water back to her home.
She welcomed us one morning to learn about her daily chores. We woke up extra early, skipped breakfast and met Gyanni Bi at her home eager to experience just a piece of the burden tribal woman endure on a daily basis.
They were asked to plaster the walls of her home.
Plaster = cow dung + dirt + water
They mixed.
They plastered.
Another group was asked to milk the families goat.
Not as easy as it looks.
And then we gathered in Gyanni Bi’s home to learn how to make roti.
All before 8am.
Gyanni Bi is a hero. For her family, for her community and for our group.
3. My Group
One of my highs is experiencing all of these highs and lows with my participants. A group of 18 young people, from different parts of N.America who came together, shared so much of themselves, challenged each other and formed a family. My job was to guide them through the experience, challenge their perceptions, and keep them safe. In return they did the same for me, and I learnt so much from each and everyone of them. We formed a bond that I don’t think will ever diminish.
Missing you India E!
4. The Indian Culture
There is something to be said about the Indian culture, I experienced so much heart, so much determination, so much growth. I wouldn’t dare say I fully understand the countries history nor its complexities, but from what I experienced and what I learnt I know I will be back as I know it couldn’t have possibility been the first and last time I stepped foot in that beautiful country.
From learning of the social disparities of the Indian caste system…
To experiencing the zest for life, despite life’s hardships….
To it’s incredible beauty…
photo credit: Mira Z
India captured my heart, and wont let go!
The Lowest Of Lows
Although not as exciting to read or as heart warming, it would be irresponsible me not to share the lows. I may not have pictures to show or happy endings to explain, but India is complex and we were there for a reason.
1. Health
I assumed my biggest challenge would be the responsibility I had over the health and safety of 18 youth. I was wrong. Although I had my fair share of concerns for my group as they tackled heat exhaustion, stomach upset and “Delhi Belly”, most of my lows stemmed from the lack of health care and sanitation knowledge available to the community members of Berna.
Free the Children has a very new presence in the community, which means many of our projects have yet to be implemented. Which translated into a very raw experience for our group- this is inherently more powerful, but incredibly wearing.
As our time went on in the community I found myself cleaning and patching up wounds of the community members- simple wounds, that have gotten infected because of their environment. This was manageable given my first aid training and first aid supplies.
Where it became challenging was when I saw a little 3 year old Kinu with a swollen ankle, in intense pain. He could not tell me how he did it, I could not assess what was wrong, but he looked at me with these big eyes and huge pout (where an incredibly cute smile once was) and I felt helpless.This is an awful feeling. I scrounged through my first aid kit, racking my brain to figure out some primitive way I could address this need. I came up short.
We ended up ripping up a stretchy head bandana and wrapping his ankle tightly to contain the swelling, hoping and praying it wasn’t a broken bone. Thankfully he showed up the next day- limping- but smiling. Luck was one our side…. this time.
I wasn’t so lucky the next time. A couple days later I was supervising the participants as they worked away on the build site. I heard a child crying, looking down the hill I saw a little boy in a heap at the bottom. I walked down, unable to communicate in Hindi I scooped him up in my arms, he immediately snuggled in and the tears stopped. I figured he has just taken a tumble, until Ricky (our in country facilitator) pointed towards the child’s arm, he has been broken *days before, and he had hurt it again when he took a spill down the hill. This child’s arm lay limp down his side and he snuggled his head into my chest. No nearby hospital, no casting skills in my back pocket. I was left hopeless yet again.
I instantly bonded with this child, we spent the afternoon- him on my lap, me trying to make silly faces- my way of communicating without verbal language. He went home that afternoon with a smile on his face but his broken arm dangled by his side and my heart ached for the simplicity of his needs.
He didn’t come back to school in the days to follow so I never got to say goodbye. I still think about this little guy and hope that injury does not serve as a projection into his future life…. a lack of opportunities awarded to so many children in this world yet denied to so many others.
2. Social Issues
As with every one of my trips, I had a lot to learn about the complexities of the country, the vastly different social issues experience by the people. Here in India it appears endless…
* lack of opportunity for girls and woman
* child labour, 50- 90 Million children are working in India, and for every employed child there is an unemployed adult
* disparity among castes, those in the Berna community are considered “Tribal” below the lowest of the castes
* lack of health care and sanitations for those of a lower caste
* lack of clean, safe drinking water
* lack of education opportunities
* the cycle of poverty
I could spent hours writing about the lessons I learnt, and I have so much I want to share with all of you. Lets have those conversations.
3. Saying Goodbye
My last low was saying goodbye. Saying goodbye to the community of Berna, saying goodbye to the country of India. Saying goodbye to my group of rock stars.
This isn’t just a job for me, everything I am doing and experiencing is real and I am so thankful for the opportunities that are being provided to me.
I LOVE my job and I LOVE India.
