Where Love Resides - Round Two

Of course I couldn’t go too many weeks without a repeat visit to Prema Vasam. So here begins the continuation of where Prem resides…

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Only a few Sundays have passed since my first visit to the beautiful orphanage on the outskirts of Chennai and I felt an overwhelming draw to return. The group of British volunteers I had originally met would be departing in a few weeks – a perfect opportunity to say good-bye and see the children. This time I opted for the public bus ($0.25) versus the luxury of private taxi ($8.50). The kind citizens of Chennai assured I hopped off at the correct stop, but not first without ensuring I was meeting someone as it is a “no good neighborhood” they said. No good neighborhood? I began wondering why they were so worried about this. In actuality, the neighborhood is not bad – much better than the slums I usually frequent and in reality, I have never felt unsafe in the slums. I reflected over this morsel of advice and it dawned on me - I have received the same commentary almost every time I request a bus stop within a poverty-stricken hood. It’s not that the slums are abhorrently unsafe – danger lurks anywhere. The issue stems from the uncommon nature of a westerner visiting these neighborhoods. Essentially, they are attempting to safeguard us from the scenes. This in fact is a common misconception even staff at MCCSS hold. They assume slum surroundings are too harsh for westerners to manage and shelter us by simply not escorting us into certain slums. Not all staff subscribe to this belief, and we are working to dispel the myth that we need to be babied from the real slums. Either way, I assured the overbearing bus passengers that I would be fine and jumped off the bus as it rolled to a stop.

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I zigzagged through the neighborhood and meandered my way to the end of the road. When I walked through the gate, I saw no one outside. Where were the kids? I soon discovered the weather had become too warm in the early afternoon to play outside, so the children were forced to hibernate in the indoor playrooms for the afternoon. Unfortunately at an orphanage, playroom is a misleading word. There are no toys; instead four walls coop up too many children leading to unreleased energy and pointless punches, as nothing else is available to occupy their young minds. The volunteers attempted to combat this situation by purchasing coloring books and crayons, however in a society that never has enough, survival not sharing, is a trait learned at an early age. Crayons are hoarded and coloring sheets are shredded as little hands grab for everything. Orphanages are always fun and games the first time. After that, you remove your rose-colored glasses and learn what effort it truly takes to make them function.

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After the coloring fiasco, it was feeding time. We resorted to the kitchen to collect lunch for the special kids. I carried up a plate of soggy rice and vegetables and was pointed in the direction of a new child this time. He was confined to a bed-ridden life on his back due to his disease. I positioned myself on the corner of his bed and balanced the hot plate in my lap. I couldn’t help but notice his out-of-place t-shirt that seemed more an unintentional cruel joke that read, “Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most.” I couldn’t even make this up if I tried. Sometimes in those situations, all you can do is laugh, shake your head and continue on. Humor is a god-sent gift in a developing country. I carefully rolled up small balls of rice and veggies and secured them in his mouth. He didn’t possess the ability to chew with his teeth, instead using his tongue to break down the food. He was incredibly more difficult to feed than the child I had tended last time…until I enacted my secret weapon – the airplane feeding game. With rice ball in hand, I maneuvered my hand around like a gliding airplane with sound effects and all. He laughed so hard, but between giggles would always open his mouth to accept the rice ball. I was hoping this newfound game wouldn’t wear out for a few reasons: I wanted him to finish his plate to fill his little belly and selfishly because his innocent laughter was irresistible. I soon found tears dotting the corners of my eyes as his contagious laugh made me double-over in laughter with him. By the end of the meal, we managed to find rice hidden in our hair, under our necks and inside our ears…well worth the extra clean-up duty.

After feeding time, it is time to nourish staff and volunteers and we all met downstairs to sit in a feeding circle for lunch. A huge pot of rice and spicy, sambar sauce is passed around the circle and you spoon the food onto your plate. No silverware is needed in India since they eat with their right hand only; the left hand is used for dirty duties. Before lunch began, the founder recited a small prayer of thanks and welcomed me back to the orphanage. Unbeknownst to me, they had purchased a small gift to welcome me back and show I was now part of their family. He waved to two small girls waiting in the doorway, whom excitedly skipped toward me, pulled up my pant legs and secured silver kosulus (ankle bracelets with bells) around each ankle. Almost all the women of India wear these and it was a symbol of my acceptance at Prema Vasam. The generosity of the South Indian people never ceases to amaze me. Consistently, those who have nothing to offer are always the first to give me the shirt off their back or the last serving of their meal…

After lunch I caught up with the UK volunteers who would soon be departing. It is always interesting to listen to the stories they have accumulated and the mishmash of feelings one encounters when departing. So many intense experiences happen on a daily basis when you push yourself outside of your comfort zone and into extreme circumstances. How do you describe all the emotions to friends and family? What will happen to the children? How do you find words for the powerful events you’ve witnessed? Why them and not me? Will there be food to eat tomorrow? What does the future hold? The truth is it’s difficult to return to the simplicity of our daily lives after seeing the daily struggle in others’ lives. You always wonder what more you can do…

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After some afternoon reflection, we headed upstairs to gather some of the special children for a special outing. On my way up, I noticed the explosion of laundry hanging on the rooftop and I stopped. It was only another realization of the massive undertaking to maintain life at an orphanage. Remember, there are no washing machines or dryers at the orphanage or the majority of households in India for that matter. All this laundry is washed by hand and hung to line dry…everyday! I don’t know the last time you hand-washed, but imagine doing it for 170 children on a daily basis. Bucket washing is back breaking work. The special kids alone go through numerous outfits per day as diapers are unaffordable on a tight budget. It is barely possible to keep the children properly clothed as they grow faster than weeds and hand washing takes a toll on the garments. The problem is evident as I noted children running around with flooded pants, broken zippers and swiss cheese t-shirts. Yet again, in a society where there are never enough resources, you make do with what you can… a delicate art to comprehend.

We rounded up seven special children and headed out the front gate, but not before excitedly blowing kisses and waving good-bye to the gate keeper. The little ones walked barefoot down the hot, rocky roads and you can’t help but feel guilt. It doesn’t hurt their tiny soles, as after years of practice their feet have grown accustomed to this behavior, but somehow this doesn’t console your mind. We headed to one of the local shops and showered the kids with small candies, baby bananas, mango juice and other tasty treats. We didn’t spend more than $1.00 and the smiles were priceless. The villagers were surprisingly accepting of the unexpected behaviors special kids often exhibit and a few villagers even chipped in to buy a sweet snack or two. By the end of the outing, crumbled crackers, wrappers and mango juice ended up all over the floor, but the shopkeeper just smiled, shook her head and waved us good-bye. We held hands as we all walked home together. The first time I visited the orphanage, I didn’t quite agree with the term special kids, however, being able to spend additional time with this group made me realize they really are just that. They are special. It has nothing to do with their handicap or their disability. It’s the pure joy they find in the small things around them that is truly amazing and their ability to remind those of us who forget.

As the day drew to a close, so did my time. I needed to reach Chennai by dusk since the streets become full of shady characters after dark. I take my curfew cue from the local, Indian women who are safely tucked inside home well before 9:00 pm. I thanked Selvyn for another amazing day and promised him next time to sit down and more thoroughly understand the inner workings of orphanage life. With his hand over his heart, he bowed his head and welcomed me back anytime with open arms.

Prison + Graveyard

I'm well aware of my ability to write wordy blogs, at times scant of photos. Today I post the contrary - perhaps only to make you miss my meticulous detail and semi-amusing accounts. Honestly, I solely lack the exciting narrative for this daytrip so take pleasure in the temporary lapse of lexis and remember pictures are worth a thousand words…

A single cell.

The prison hosted 2500 inmates and 300 guards and closed in 2001. A shared cell.

The great leaders of India.

The mural has gods of all religions for prisoners to pray.

Drawing on a cell wall.

Luckily I didn't fall through, but it was a close call.Pictures of Hindu gods are posted on everything...even switchplates.

Tsunami Village

Unearthing planned activities and events at MCCSS can best be described as haphazard. On a good day, I discover an event a couple days in advance, sometimes the evening prior and other times within the hour. This all usually occurs through a chance conversation between staff and international students alike. The latter is how I stumbled upon an opportunity to visit a tsunami ravaged village which had been hard hit by the powerful waves of December 26, 2004. This remote fishing village suffered close to the worst casualties in Tamil Nadu, scoring national media attention and international aid. MCCSS staff returned to peruse the village and assess industry recovery five years after that devastating morning…

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My morning started off as usual. All those departing on the trip would need to be ready at 7:30 am sharp when the transportation would arrive. Hence, myself and four other punctual westerners were waiting downstairs by 7:25. After an hour had passed, we grew slightly nervous we had been misinformed of the plan as staff had still not arrived. However, our nerves settled when a field worker zipped up on his motorcycle around 8:30 reassuring us the event was scheduled as planned. Finally by 9:00 we loaded into the mini-buses and headed off to tsunami village - only 1.5 hours late today.

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One bumpy bus ride and two hours later we pulled up to a homely building in need of a facelift and a fresh coat of paint. Unaware, I soon discovered we would first be attending a leadership training session with various levels of the women’s self-help groups. This is why I often describe a day of field work as venturing into the wild - you literally never quite know what the day may hold….

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All sessions begin in song. MCCSS believes this helps to bond staff with those they serve through harmony. The word harmony is used figuratively. Ha! Even though I don’t speak Tamil, it’s apparent who can reach the right pitch. The songs are generally about poverty and human rights and while I respect the concept, it still makes me smile to imagine beginning a work day with staff singing tunes. Working here at MCCSS has solidified the concept that you can always learn something…it usually is not what you planned on learning, but there is something to gain each day if you remain open to it.
As I sat sweating in the shabby building, watching sari-swathed women sit lotus-style on the floor, listening to Tamil flow in one ear and out the other I began to wonder when exactly we planned to visit tsunami village; after all that was the original plan, wasn’t it? It is futile to be somewhere physically if you aren’t there mentally, so I dragged myself back to the present and silently observed. The women worked in two teams, scribbling Tamil characters on an oversized sheet of paper. They were brainstorming qualities of a self-help group (SHG) and an SHG leader. Discussion bounced back and forth and slowly a few key leadership qualities emerged. A leader should first and foremost be literate – remember these groups are formed in slums with little education; some women can’t even sign their own name.

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An SHG leader should also:
1. Be knowledgeable about empowerment
2. Maintain good relations within the community
3. Not want to lead for power, but rather for the skill set she possesses to do successfully

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Why all this discussion about leadership? Through careful questioning and slurred Indian English I learned MCCSS was entering year two of a three year women’s empowerment grant. MCCSS has no control over the groups in regards to leadership election or removal, thus training is crucial to teach women to empower themselves. MCCSS purely disseminates knowledge and facilitates. The women must take matters into their own hands, basing decisions formed upon their own needs and wants. Mmmm, the sweet scent of self-sustainability….
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Here’s how the women’s SHG movement breaks down: one self-help group contains 20 members, 20 self-help groups form one federation and three members of each formed federation are elected into a confederation. Confederations are the long-term goal of the empowerment grant. The breadth of the movement is directly correlated with the number of successful confederations. The goal is to have a 90 member confederation, so let’s do the math. Remember, each group consists of 20 members and 20 groups make one federation, meaning that each federation is touching 400 women. The goal is 30 federations, so 30 federations * 400 women = 12,000 women being empowered within three years. If I explained this well, you should be amazed! If I didn’t explain it well, just be amazed anyway…

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The grant is three-fold. Year one focused on group creation (650+ groups strong), year two builds upon the SHG groups to focus on elections and federation leadership and year three will aim for strengthening confederations and the formation of a Central Committee to oversee the infrastructure after the grant expires. Never before in my non-profit years have I seen an NGO reach out and empower so many individuals, on so many levels. The grassroots outreach and empowerment found at MCCSS is unrivaled. Although I find this thoroughly exciting, undoubtedly this is boring for the majority of those not in non-profit, so i’ll move on…

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The true highlight of the day was learning the story of one of the leaders of a federation and self-help group. Her name is Velakanni (velah-kah-knee)and I had met on numerous occasions - though she never shared her story with me before today. Everyone has a story to tell. Sometimes you discover it right away, but the sweetest stories are well worth the wait. Velakanni became a SHG leader four years ago under the direction of MCCSS. She took the role like fish to water. During one particularly harsh monsoon season, Vela’s slum was flooded in waist-high water. Homes literally washed away, food was sparse, everything was destroyed – all due to lack of storm drain funding for slum residences denied by the Tamil Nadu government. Velakanni had been trained on human rights in her self-help group through a previous MCCSS training. So, she stormed the streets collecting signatures for a petition to the state government to demand action for her threatened community. The first petition was ignored. The second petition was again ignored. The third petition was ignored as well. Knowing you can’t repeat the same action and expect different results, Velakanni changed her plan. She inspired an entire community and rallied them in a Gandhi-esque, transportation blockade in central Chennai. They stopped traffic for over an hour and honking horns quickly notified traffic police and government officials of the ensuing situation. They arrived to disband the protestors, but Vela and neighborhood residents refused to disperse until officials promised to visit their drowning community.

Government officials arrived by boat to the neighborhood the next day and upon seeing the condition of the ruined slum, immediately issued a 2,000 rupee payment per household ($40 USD) for storm drains. Victory! From uneducated housewife to empowered community organizer, she has become a powerful and respected woman of her community. You would never know behind those chubby cheeks and ultra-sweet smile that Vela is a force with which to be reckoned. Everyone has a story to share if you care enough to discover it. Do you know yours?

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By early afternoon training had concluded and we were off to tsunami village. After all the interesting information from the morning session I nearly forgot about the village visit. The buses weaved through the narrow, sand-covered streets and we disembarked a few blocks from the water’s edge. Houses were half-crumbling, trash was strewn everywhere, building materials lay dormant on cemented foundations, mangy dogs slept on sand piles, cows grazed on discarded refuge and a billion scents wafted through the air from cardamom to sewage – but this is India; nothing seemed out of the ordinary from other towns.

The most noticeable difference was the lack of row boats and wooden rafts; everyone had a motor boat. I quickly learned the tsunami was a bittersweet memory for the village. In the wake of waves, international aid flooded the village tenfold of tsunami waters. In fact, so much aid poured in that building materials marked for recovery housing were soon sold on the black market for a quick buck. This is not to fault the people of the village. This aid setback resounds around the world from Ethiopia to Ecuador. The problem is only half-rooted in poverty and greed. The other half is rooted in foreign NGO’s misunderstanding of local needs and mindsets. Neither is this to fault foreign relief, however, there is something to say for international not-for-profits who funnel their money into local agencies to organize recovery. Who better equipped to manage social problems further complicated by a natural disaster than local NGO’s?

So back to the boats…a large cause for concern is the sudden overpopulation of outboard motor boats. Of course the fishing community is delighted to receive zippy boats, but the concern stems from the improved efficiency strain on the environment - not only in terms of pollution but overfishing. The livelihood of a fishing village hangs in the balance of fish. If there are no more fish, what then becomes of the fishing village? Efficiency is not always an ideal gift; in some cases it just may be the opposite. Hence, for those in local non-profits, understand your community. For donors in the international community, understand your non-profit.

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We boarded two, shiny boats and motored into open water. There is a vacant island 30 minutes from the shoreline that forms a protective barrier between the river and the Bay of Bengal. This small island and the dense trees that dot the shoreline spared this tiny village from much higher numbers of death and despair the morning after Christmas 2004. We pulled up to the island and jumped overboard splashing down into the shallow, warm water. It was a sight to see grown women in their immaculate saris playing in the sand and surf like water babies. After an hour of sun and waves we returned inland. It was time to check the recovery of the fish market and village economy.

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This wasn’t my first time to a fish market and I was fully prepared for the funk of fish as I stepped foot into the open-air, stone-walled market. What I did not expect was the slime, scales and flies hovering over, in, under, above and around every surface. I love seafood, but this surely made me question where mine comes from before it reaches my lips. It’s hard to see the flies, but check out the shots below for a feel of the fish emporium. Weighing fish and bartering the day's market price.
All in all it was a day to remember, just like yesterday was and tomorrow will be. There is always something to learn, whether from a uneducated, former housewife of the slums empowered enough to tackle government or bittersweet motor boats which may devastate a local economy. The important part is keeping your eyes and ears open for the lesson of the day…

Happy Birthday!

Another year of life has come and gone and while I may be physically far from best friends in India, I feel the presence of those who share my special day with me from around the globe. This is far from the first birthday I’ve passed in another country. The fact that somehow, someway, I always find friends with whom to celebrate reminds me of the commonalities we all share, no matter our background. This year lucky birthday 28 was spent in Pondicherry, India with a group of international acquaintances. Birthday number 26 was spent in Rome, under the stars with Brandy drinking limoncello in Piazza Navona. Birthdays 24 & 25 were celebrated in Mexico with shots of tequila, tres leches cake, Las Mananitas, a midnight rodeo and salsa dancing with Pepe and Andrea. While I may not be around close friends and family, the experience of birthdays abroad truly gives me the feeling of maximizing my limited years on this planet. We only have a certain time allotted to us and I fully intend on leaving behind more than a tombstone when I depart...

Here in India they are keen on the other realm. Astrology and palm readings are a large part of belief systems, so what better way to acclimatize then to check my birthday horoscope…which was extraordinarily accurate.

You want to improve because you know it will help you to make a better contribution to the world. Personal glory isn't what you are going for, though you should accept the well-deserved accolades that come your way in the next ten weeks. May is stellar for your love life. June brings a change of scenery. A Capricon adores you...

Back to birthday weekend…the event took place in Pondicherry, India - A small beach town about three hours from Chennai, affectionately termed Pondi. This haphazard get together began in Nashville, when a friend mentioned his boss was from India and would conveniently be in Chennai the same time as me. Great! Through emails and phone calls, I met the friend’s boss (Srinu) and brother (Raju) in Chennai. They were overflowing with Indian hospitality from the first hello and offered to take me to Pondicherry sight-seeing for the whole weekend. I whole-heartedly agreed and we were off in style…a hired car with a/c!

We zoomed down to the beach, stopping periodically along the way to fuel up on chai tea and to check out the salt fields. The salt fields I learned were the novel idea of Mahatma Gandhi. He preached that India needed to be swaraj (self-sufficient) before they could overrule the British who occupied their lands. Ooppu or salt is a key ingredient in the Indian diet, therefore the British imposed a salt tax upon the people of India - making it illegal to freely collect salt from the coasts. This created a complete British monopoly that affected all of India, forcing the people to buy salt they could not afford. Hence, the salt fields came to fruition after the Salt March of Dandi. Gandhi and followers showed their peaceful rebellion by walking 240 miles in 23 days arriving in Dandi on March 12, 1930 - where they defiantly picked up a piece of salt.

The salt fields are naturally gorgeous and the fact I stumbled upon them late afternoon only added to their inherent beauty. We pulled off the side of the road and I hopped out of the car with camera in hand…a unique opportunity I would not have had if I were travelling in a public bus. I walked the fields, greeted the salt farmers and even personally taste-tested a piece of Gandhi-inspired sea salt.

Later in the evening we arrived safely in Pondi, rambled the beach and enjoyed good seafood and great beers on a breezy balcony overlooking the Bay of Bengal. Alcoholic beverages are such a commodity in a society of secret drinkers. While not illegal, there are few outlets to buy alcohol in Chennai. These frowned upon places are known as Wine Shoppes – although oddly don’t sell wine. They do however specialize in selling cheap, home-made alcohol to shady characters. These stores cater to people chiefly with addictive drinking habits, thus it is completely unacceptable (and unsafe) for a woman to purchase a bottle of booze. I’m not one to crave cocktails, but sandy beaches and starry nights just don’t feel right without a cold beer every now and again. Lucky for me, laid-back touristy towns are just the spot to feed the need. Western influence isn’t always so bad….

After a belly full of food and a nice beer I slept well in my seaside resort room. The next morning I was energetic at sunrise strolling the beach, observing the fishermen prepare their nets to sail out to sea for the catch of the day. Fishermen are a rough breed in India. HIV/ AIDS is rampant and their lifestyle is…well, let’s just say I saw syringes on the beach and more than one squatting over a hole in the sand staring at the sea…not pondering life, but performing number two. I saw more ass than I bargained for that morning, but the pictures turned out nice and the sea is relaxing….so moving on.

Back to my 28th birthday celebration….my newfound friends Srinu and Raju took the personal responsibility to host a birthday party in my honor Sunday evening. They drove me all around town preparing for the birthday extravaganza; we stopped to pick up a birthday cake, typical party snacks, white flowers for my hair, bindis and bangles, renting tables and chairs and of course a fancy, beautiful, birthday shawal kameez. The guests arrived around 8:00 pm and we suppressed our appetites with regional dried snacks and Kingfisher (local beer). Indian music in the background created the perfect party ambience and soon they surprised me with my birthday cake. It was beautifully decorated and 10 candles (2+8) were strategically placed atop as not to interfere with the ribbons and flowers adorning the mountains of white frosting. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to me (in English) and with wish in mind I managed to blow out all 10 candles. As the evening and appetites progressed, we ordered tasty Indian take-out from a local beach café where I snacked on naan (bread) and a typical sauce made of paneer (cheese) and ghee (butter). After dinner…and more Kingfishers…the Indian music led to some Indian dancing. Oh yes, Raju performed a special Indian dance for me on my big day. Ha! It was a night to remember and unlike any other birthday I’ve celebrated the past 28 years of life. A special thanks to Raju and Srinu, Padmini, Santhi, Neely and all the other special guests who attended and shared my day with me. It was a 28th birthday to remember…to say the least!

This iron weighs about 15 pounds!

Learning to make chai at a roadside stand!

The cows of India....

Jawahar Nagar

Welcome to the neighborhood. I’ve officially moved!

My new address is:

MCCSS
ATTN: Leeza Schaul
21, 6th Main Road
Jawahar Nagar, Chennai, India 600 082

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I’m living above the MCCSS office in a dorm-style bungalow with six females; luckily, not all in one room. I share my room with a woman named Rikke from Denmark who is studying social work and executing fieldwork in WID and Rag Pickers, like myself.

So the new neighborhood is fantastic. It lies west of the heart of Chennai and is the perfect size to wander around town and access everything I need all within three blocks…literally. In the span of a few blocks I can: shop for groceries, visit a fruit & veggie market, eat dirty street food, drink a gourmet coffee, worship at the Hindu temple, purchase flowers, wash and iron clothes, cut my hair, drink fresh coconut milk, shop for kitchen utensils, purchase fabric swabs for Indian garb, have it tailored, be fitted for eyewear, browse the internet, party at the marriage hall, buy clay pots and incense, recharge my phone with minutes, drink a lassi, receive yoga instruction, see the doctor, guzzle chai, find take-out, go to the park, buy OTC drugs, withdraw cash from the ATM and fix my motorcycle…if I had one. Everything is within walking distance – it’s amazing! I even have two major bus links and a railway connection only five stops from the central hub. Although the public bus transportation is not the most desirable, it somehow manages to get me to where I need to be; it just doesn’t always get me back…

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I have been pleasantly surprised by the hospitality of the Chennaikers. Chennai is by no means a touristy city and doesn’t have the usual sprawl of comfortable tourist amenities – like internet cafes, call centers and tour agencies. However, the friendliness of the South Indian people has made all the difference in the world. There have been quite a few times I’ve boarded a bus with only the name of the stop where I should exit. I usually show this scribbled scrap of paper to the bus driver, so I know how much to pay and where to get off. More often than not, this piece of paper makes it half way around the bus and a whole row of concerned citizens assure me they will personally tell me when to get off. They are so worried about my welfare and that I find the right stop…and they never forget to tell me! They always smile and point and even if they don’t speak English, they will signal this is my stop. A few of the passengers will even flash me a smile or quick wave as I hop off the bus. After I exit, there is usually a kind Chennaiker who takes on the civic duty to make sure I cross the street safely – this is a daunting task in India! They will signal for me to follow them and even hold their arms out so I do not cross haphazardly. It is very sweet. In my meager attempts to speak Tamil, they smile and say the word back to me giggling - so delighted…or perhaps just laughing at me. Many times they will insist on using English when I use my Tamil, as they want to show off their language abilities and wear big grins as they pronounce each syllable proudly. The people have been more than accommodating and tolerant of us “Westerners” and don’t even flinch when we forget to take off our shoes in the doorway and pass items with our left hand accidentally – which happens more often than not as we stumble our way through Indian etiquette. Ahhhh yes, the Chennaikers are eager to please. In fact, they are so hesitant to use the word no that if they do not know the answer, they will merely make something up – especially with directions…. It can become daunting at times – as an American we are comfortable with the word no and being direct. However, it is interesting to see how they maneuver their way around the use of the N word.

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What has been most surprising is the reaction to my skin color. They are fascinated by white skin and many people will try to touch me on the streets. Not in an offensive way, they are solely curious how white skin feels. They make many comments that white skin is smooth, and sadly have been coerced to believe that white skin is beautiful and dark skin is not. They often point to my skin and tell me good, only to point to their own with a disgusted face saying bad. I consistently tell them black skin is beautiful and not to let anyone tell them differently, but they just laugh and shake their head at me; I am unsure if it’s because they don’t understand my words or simply think this is a silly notion...

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I have noticed during my first week that I receive the most attention in the slums. They are shocked that a white person would be in their neighborhood. Although I do not speak Tamil, I can always tell when they ask “Who is she?” “Where is she from?” “Why is she here?” They do not ask in a negative sense; they are purely taken aback by the presence of foreigners (rich, white people in their eyes) volunteering in poor slums. They are all very interested in me and I am usually surrounded by masses of children wanting to shake my hand, practice hello and ask my name. Mothers will bring their babies up to touch me and look at me. I’m not one for attention, although this is very positive attention and I find it nice not to be constantly criticized about my country and our politics for once – such as tends to happen in Europe.

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Some days the attention can be overwhelming; you are a non-stop walking tourist attraction. Every day there are long stares from pairs of eyes aboard the bus…long five minute gazes as if we had engaged in a staring contest. I usually stare straight back at them and then crack a big smile and that usually does the trick; but other times they just continue to stare, blank-faced and intense. Slowly, but surely the six volunteers and those that came before us are breaking in Jawahar Nagar and the novelty of foreigners on the street will soon wear off. In a country as large and diverse as the United States - where it’s normal to see a Muslim woman wearing a headdress at Wal-Mart, hear Spanish spoken at Citgo and eat an array of ethnic food from native restaurants on any street corner - it’s easy to forget that not all countries are submerged in a melting pot like ourselves.

MCCSS

So back to the basics of why I am here. I work with a non-profit organization in Chennai, India known as the Madras Christian Council of Social Services (MCCSS). Why does a spiritual non-believer keep migrating to denominational non-profits – I have no idea – but similar to Catholic Charities they serve clients regardless of race, religion, caste and ethnicity, do not proselytize and are tolerant and accepting of staff and volunteers. A win-win in my books….

MCCSS is a reputable NGO (non-governmental organization) in India and has been in existence for over 37 years. This says much about Indian non-profits considering it is not unheard of for NGO’s to open their doors, apply for grants, receive funding, funnel 10% into programs, 90% into their pockets and shut down by the next funding cycle… only to reopen under another name. So, as long as you have a few years under your belt you have some validity around this part of the world. Of course, not all NGO’s are created equal and no matter where in the world they are located you should be cognizant of how much funding is allocated to direct services before donating.

MCCSS like any organization has undergone programmatic changes as they’ve grown and their umbrella shifts depending on which funding rains money. They receive funds from the Tamil Nadu State Government, the Central Indian Government and international sources as well – mainly through Europe. Currently, there are six active program areas: HIV/ AIDS, Human Trafficking, Rag Pickers, Transgenders, Women in Development (WID), Family Counseling & Short Stay Home.

HIV/AIDS – this program targets and outreaches to high-risk areas where there is no sex education or STD awareness. Outreach is done on the streets, slum neighborhoods, high schools and fishing villages through mass campaigns, pamphlets, one-to-one counseling, blood screening camps and open dialogue. Most people in these areas do not know how to use condoms and believe only homosexuals or migrants can be infected with AIDS. The common consensus is that birth control is meant to prevent STD’s and applying citrus to your penis before sex is a decent form of birth control. Hard to believe? Unfortunately, in schools the thought of sex-ed is a little too risqué so instead of promoting awareness, abstinence is pushed. The reasoning behind this logic will come to light in a future blog, but still lies beyond my comprehension. Last year over 2,000 students have been touched, 18,000 slum dwellers educated about AIDS, 275 adults had their blood screened and 67,526 condoms were distributed. The India HIV/AIDS pandemic stands only behind Nigeria and South Africa for number of infected patients. India may soon overtake both these countries. Check out the map for the concentrations of HIV/AIDS and take note of Tamil Nadu. Luckily the outreach team is active again and working hard to promote their message grassroots style to all who will listen. Click here for more information about India and HIV/ AIDS.

Human Trafficking – this department was instated numerous years ago, but has been awaiting funding renewals. Fortunately, the program has received new grants and will be reinstated in the next two months. The goal is prevent incidences of trafficking in women and children by forming community vigilance groups (CVG) who report suspicious activities to MCCSS. MCCSS works closely with the anti-vice squad, a unit of the police force responsible for trafficking. The two collaborate busting brothels throughout Chennai and last year 24 brothels closed and 18 brokers were identified, rescuing 77 victims. The rescued women and girls are brought to the Short Stay home where the rehabilitation process begins. They will receive safety, shelter, counseling, therapy, training and reintegration. When ready, they will receive job training in glass painting, flower making, tailoring and other areas. If possible, the girls will be reunited with their families if they wish to do so. Sadly, many are ostracized from their own homes as this is a disgrace to the family. The fact they were forced against their will into this career path is irrelevant to community acceptance. A paradox for a society that so highly values family…no?

Rag Pickers – a brand-new program to MCCSS! Rag pickers are street children that go into the dumping yard to collect bottles and tins. They take these small items to a middle man who pays them money for the recyclables. They then use this money for food, alcohol, gambling and prostitutes. Rag pickers make good money in this line of work, but the conditions of the dumping yard are hazardous and the lifestyle habits are high-risk for people of any age. The goal of this program is to build a night shelter where the children can go to sleep safely, have a shower, clean water and electricity. In order to build trust with the children, it is not possible to pull them off the street; they would not use the night shelter if this was the expressed intention. Instead, the idea is to begin with the shelter. After a confidence has been gained from the children, MCCSS will introduce counseling, hygiene and safety classes, a savings program and an opportunity for education. The goal is to target 50 rag pickers. In a city of 8 million, there are obviously many rag pickers, so it will be interesting to watch the program grow and develop in the years to come.

Transgenders (TG) – this program just ended at MCCSS and waits in limbo to see if funding will be extended for another two years by the government. I never knew this social issue existed in India until I arrived. A transgender is referred to as one’s gender identity not matching one’s assigned sex. Indian culture severely frowns upon those that don’t fit into a certain mold and not surprisingly, there is no mold for transgenders. Similar to victims of trafficking, they are ostracized from their families and communities. Landlords will not lease an apartment to them; they will not be hired for jobs; they are discriminated against on the streets. Essentially, they are outcaste to slums and forced to beg for money after coming out of the transgender closet. In my opinion, seems a cruel and unusual punishment for not fitting a mold. Yes it is a controversial issue in many countries – even our own – however regardless if you agree with the choice of lifestyle, they should have basic rights as human beings. One of the biggest advances made by the program over the past year is obtaining ration cards for this special population. Ration cards are similar to food stamps which afford the individual the opportunity to shop at government sponsored food stores for reduced rates. This card is also a safety net - if there happens to be a natural disaster and the government proclaims a certain area will receive X amount of recovery dollars, you must have a ration card to claim what is rightfully yours. In order to obtain this important card, you must have a valid address (difficult in a slum) and you must claim a gender (difficult for transgenders). Claiming a gender is not as easy as checking male or female on paperwork. You must go to an official office, submit photographs and documentation. Obviously as a TG, you look different than the gender you portray and there the issue arises. So, as part of a compromise the government has agreed to allow another option in lieu of black or white. It is called third gender. It may seem a tiny victory, but for this group it is the first victory they’ve had. In most recent news, the government has also conceded that sex change operations are now eligible surgical procedures. All surgeries must be pre-approved by the government since they foot the medical bills. Previously, TG’s would go to unlicensed doctors who would use hot oil as part of the surgical procedure, leading to an astronomical mortality rate. With many victories in only a year, the TG’s await the verdict to the life of this program...

Women in Development (WID) – the goal of this program is to empower the women of slum neighborhoods and educate them to form self-help groups and advocate for community rights. Advocacy is a key part to the program. MCCSS field staff informs women of the rights they have as human beings and citizens of their community, such as access to fresh water, sewers and drains, food provisions and emergency assistance. After training they understand how to demand their rights as citizens of Tamil Nadu and will stage hunger strikes, protests, sign petitions and speak to government officials. Additionally, self help groups will be formed. Self help groups (SHG) fall into two categories: micro-enterprises and bank loans. Micro-enterprise groups have formed cooperatives such as provision shops, embroidery, ice cream shops and a saree business - all showing a profit margin last year!

Bank loan SHG’s consist of 20 members of a community. They must all be women and commit to a number of requirements: each woman must save 10 rupees per week, they must meet once per week on the same day and time, and there must be a leader and treasurer – both must be literate. The goal of the group is to save money as a collective. None of these women would ever be granted a loan from a bank, so by each woman saving 10 rupees per week ($0.20), the collective group is able to save over 800 rupees per month ($8.00). When a member of the group needs a loan, she will request the amount from her SHG. The group will decide if they want to grant the money, the amount and when and what her repayment will be with interest (1.25%). The group must loan out money if funds are available, but have complete control over the details of the loan. The idea is each member is responsible to the group since they live and work together. This loyalty to the community will prevent default loan payments as this would cause the entire group to fail. Over 650 SHG’s have been formed over the past 1.5 years and of those only 41 are labeled as “weak”. Over the course of this next year, the focus will shift to federations. After 20 SHG’s have been formed, a federation is formed. One leader from each group will attend federation meetings and disseminate knowledge from these trainings to their own SHG’s. Some issues addressed last year include: protecting women against violence, managing records, formation of new SHG’s and holding elections.

Family Counseling & Short Stay Home – this area offers counseling to drop-ins on a daily basis. Some days are full of excitement, some long hours and some are slow…you never know! At times people will just stop in for counseling and return home and other days a woman will be admitted to the Short Stay home. Don’t let the name fool you -some women are there for months or years. Women without husbands are not allowed to rent apartments, so they don’t have many options available. They may stay at the shelter (with their children) for as long as need be. Currently, there are about 30 women and 15 children. Last year 313 new cases were logged and 245 resolved.

The majority of cases stem from: (in order)
1. spousal/ marrital maladjustment
2. extra-marital affairs
3. alcohol addiction
4. domestic abuse
5. need for temporary shelter

One recent case involved a mother bringing her 17 year old daughter demanding she be “locked up” in Short Stay. This is not the purpose of the home and after further understanding of the situation the story came to light. The daughter had met a boy at work for whom she had fallen in love. They had been secretly dating until the parents found out. They severely beat her many times, but she still planned to marry the boy when she turned 18. He was just a few years older and had finished his bachelor’s degree from a good college. However, he was in a lower caste. In India girls can marry up the caste system, but you never marry down. The parents forbade her to see this boy and by “locking her up” in the Short Stay, the daughter could not see the boy at work. Yes, the caste system is alive in India. After careful consideration, MCCSS gave the choice to the girl whether to return home or enter the Short Stay. She decided to reside at Short Stay and wait out the few months until she turned 18 to marry her love, simultaneously avoiding the beatings at her home. Although the parents originally opted for this, they are now taking MCCSS to court because the girl is under 18 and they feel they can “lock her up” more effectively. Unwilling to return the girl to an abusive family, the Short Stay is protecting her and awaiting a day in court…

So there it is, another interesting NGO that I am lucky to be a part, albeit for a limited time. I suppose to some not involved in non-profit work, this can seem an overwhelming, overload of social problems. I assure you these problems would be much worse without the dedicated staff and services of NGO’s. The plight of these vulnerable populations need empathy…not sympathy. I have chosen to participate primarily in the WID and Rag Pickers programs. I am awaiting funding to funnel into Human Trafficking and if this comes to fruition, I will mainly focus on this program during my 10 weeks. In my occasional spare time, I will participate in HIV/ AIDS outreach and several nights a week I escort the Short Stay women and children to the park in the evenings for some recreation. Whew!

Where Love Resides

Prema Vasam (prehm-ah vah-sahm), Where Love Resides is the name of an orphanage I was forunate enough to visit on Sunday. The orphanage first opened with a special child who would soon come to be named Prem, which means love in Tamil. Prem was mentally and physically handicapped and was abandoned by his family as a young boy. An amazing man named, Anto Selvyn Roy, who learned of the story adopted Prem as his own and soon founded Prema Vasam - where both love and Prem still happily reside.

The orphanage is a hybrid of children with an array of life stories. Many were abandoned, either because they were female, handicapped or simply because the family could not afford another hungry mouth to feed. Some families still maintain contact with the child, most do not. One of the most amazing stories was that of a baby girl left on the railroad tracks – we can all imagine why... She was saved and brought to Prema Vasam where she resided with the special kids. Although she was not mentally handicapped, she was physically handicapped and unable to walk. She has lived at Prema Vasam her entire life. Year in and year out, Selvyn scooped her up everyday from her bed and carried her to and from school so she could learn; a wheelchair would be unable to conquer the obstacle course of jagged Indian sidewalks and roads. Today she is a grown women, yet the founder continues to pick her up and carry her to and from school; She is now studying at one of the top universities in Chennai finishing her Master’s Degree in social work! If that story doesn’t melt your heart, it is surely made of stone.

So who are special kids? There are five rooms of children known as the “special kids” at Prema Vasam. One trait the special kids share is different severities of mental or physical handicaps. Many have cerebral palsy or other forms of handicaps which do not afford this group of children the opportunity to play with the others, dress, clean or even feed themselves. Although the center gives them much care and kisses, they are confined to life in a bed except for the few times a week they are able to trade in their mattress for a gym mat downstairs where they receive physio. Each of the nearly 70 children must be carried up and downstairs as they are unable to walk. What makes this feat even more challenging is that some of the staff and volunteers face physical handicaps on their own bodies. Despite this barrier, they ensure that somehow every child makes it to physio weekly. Although it’s heart-breaking these kids cannot live a “normal life” full of silly activity that goes hand in hand with being a child, they are receiving loads of tender loving care from a family who while may not be their own, undoubtedly love them as if they were….

The other children of Prema Vasam pass their time between playing outdoors, studying, dancing and singing (a favorite pastime) and attending school. School-aged children are sent to government run facilities, which provide cost-free education. The few children that are sponsored are sent to privately-run schools, where they will receive a more thorough education. Funding comes through a variety of sources, but like many non-profits Prema Vasam is always struggling to maintain and secure more streams of money. Thanks to a number of private donors in Italy, there are around 14 children sponsored for private schooling. (80 more to go....) Similar to many non-profits in our own countries, Prema Vasam worries the world economic downturn will dry up their funding pools once filled by now ailing Western nations. Only time will tell what the future holds in store for Prema Vasam…

Although it was amazing to meet all these special little souls, receive a million little hugs and tugs at my pants and sing the A,B,C’s, one memory that will always remain with me involved just one child. He was a special child by Prema Vasam standards. I do not know his name, but I happened to be in his room when it came around to feeding time. Everyone in the orphanage is provided three meals daily and most little ones are fed in the mess hall, except for the special kids. I helped carry up silver plate after silver plate full of food to the special rooms. I was then told to feed one little boy in particular who was sitting up in his bed staring off in the distance. He was quiet and turned his eyes toward me as I approached him holding his plate of food. I sat on the edge of his tiny wooden slat bed, said hello and held his hand. I put the plate of food into my lap as he watched me intently. The food was very hot, so I slowly formed the rice, veggies and sauce into a small ball of food with my hand and cooled it before I placed it in his mouth for him to chew. This is the only way special kids can eat. It was very humbling to sit on this small bed, balling food in my hand and placing it into a grown child's mouth. I sat there and fed him until he had finished his entire plate of food and then carefully washed his face with some water to wash away the sauce and rice that had escaped us. He was a precious child and someone I will truly never forget. It’s very easy to disregard how much we take for granted on a daily basis. However, walk in this little boy’s shoes for just one minute and imagine the life you might have lived if your circumstances happened to be different….

If you would like to learn more about Prema Vasam, view pictures or make a small donation click here. "...perhaps this is what ultimately unites us as a world: the fact that, no matter how prosperous a nation, how developed, all share the plight and embarrassment of having so many suffering children. We are united by our neglect, our abuse, our absence of love. Have we forgotten about the children, and thus forsaken the next generation?" ~Audrey Hepburn.