India

Before I get into this blog, I want to thank all of you whole left me comments and such, it has really made my day! Thank you Thank you Thank you, keep them coming and spread this blog. Topic ideas for the blog would be awesome as well. Thanks. Here it is.

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Scrubbing extremely dirty clothes in a small bucket in the freezing cold never felt so good. Finally, after three days my water has come back on and I could wash my clothes. This is how life goes here for the most part. Things like water and electricity are often dodgy and if you want something done, well, do it yourself. No one here has a washer, dryer, or even dishwasher here. As you walk you walk down the street and look up you can always see clothes hanging from above you. Dirt covers the ground everywhere, as dogs sniff through the three-foot high piles of trash located every 100 feet in the road. Despite all this the kids seem to be some of the cleanest children in the world.  Even in Pappankalan, the slum that I work in, the children often looks healthier then I do. Most clothes in Pappankalan are barrowed for the day and are moved around from child to child throughout the week, so they are very grubby and filled with holes. Aside from this though, they children still carry themselves surprisingly well.

I have noticed this fact since I arrived, but it really stood out yesterday when I kept getting my students confused because they were all wearing the clothes a different student had worn the week before. It is kind of funny being a foreigner here, because I often cannot tell they gender of a child on account of their unfamiliar names. To me what sounds like a boys name here can very easily be a very feminine name and vice versa. The fact that they children switch clothes doesn’t make the problem any easier. Boys wear pants with flowers on them while girls wear collared shirts.  The boys who are of the Sikh faith grow out their hair, so you can’t judge gender by length either. A last element that makes it nearly impossible for me to determine the sex of a child is the fact the guys wear any accessories a girl would, often more so. This means little boys wear eyeliner, have pierced ears, the whole lot. Though this makes many things difficult, I am thankful for the difference, it forces me to actually learn the children’s names and address them as such.

Today, the day ended much the same as it always does, the children say, “bye Bhaee (brother)” and as they walk out I attempt to think of their names. After that I walk to a small room owned by Vidya, which is the organization I work for, and we have tea with the teachers. We go over the day and talk about the days to come. The tea concludes and I walk through the alleys toward the street. This walk is always filled with at least 30 stares. I shook hands and greeted then by saying Namaste, also, as I normally do. Things changed when I neared the street though. As I crossed an alley intersect I looked to my left and saw a line of people marching through holding up a wooden stretcher with a body covered by a white sheet and flowers. The crowed got closer and I noticed the body was a young boy, no older then twelve years old. This tradition Indian funeral was of course shocking to see in itself, but what really made me feel uneasy was the size of the child. Now, I don’t know how this child died, but in this small, close nit, poor community it is probably fair to assume it was from something that was completely treatable. The only doctor this neighborhood sees comes once every three weeks. Sicknesses can come in pass in days, but sicknesses can also come and kill in days, which is what could have happened to this poor boy. This definitely put a damper on my day, but also helped show me once again how necessary it is to help in these areas.

It’s not only medicine and education these children need, but they also need things like cleaner food, cleaner drinking water, warmer clothes, and even doors. A majority of the people in India lives in houses that aren’t insulated. They have sheet as doors if anything. This really reinforces the idea that everyone can help. You don’t need to be rich to make a difference and you don’t need to be an expert. Who knows this child could have died from the freezing cold. This child could’ve been saved by a doctor, this child could’ve been saved by a door.