Gratitude

On this holiday of thanks, I am grateful for good health--that I do not face the threat of polio everyday. I am thankful I slept on clean, soft sheets last night and awoke to a warm breakfast--I do not sleep nightly on a train station platform or scrounge food for my family.

Although I'm sad today that I was too sick to go to the women's shelter and had to return to the US early, I rejoice for the girls in the shelter whose family members were located this week and who will be reunited after treatment. And I'm sincerely grateful to be home with my husband and daughters, who have never known slavery.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Keys to Life

When we drove the new vehicle into the gates of Bal Vikas Ashram, I got a lump in my throat. When 33 boys, all survivors of slavery, began to sing, my eyes welled up. When I saw Mark Little--one of the key Rotarians to donating the vehicle to the survivors' rehabilitation center--crying unabashedly, my tears started flowing.

The boys we met at the center were rescued over the past six months from brick, carpet and plastic factories, stone quarries and a hotel where boys cleaned and served customers. Most recently, boys who had been trafficked to another part of the country to work in garbage recycling were rescued and brought to the center.

When I interviewed a few boys with the help of a local Rotarian and the ashram manager, they described waking at 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. to get ready for work, dividing their daily food allotment to make two meals, and violence.

Under the dedicated care of ashram staff members, the boys are recovering. They are eating like elephants, learning songs and trade skills for later self-sufficiency, and preparing to return home.

The vehicle contributed by Rotary clubs in USA, England and India will enable staff members to perform raid and rescue operations, transport survivors to medical appointments and court cases, and restore the boys to their families and villages. (The vehicle also served as a Disney-World-type thrill ride for an afternoon as the boys crowded into the seats to ride up and down the driveway.)

It amazes me that a set of keys to one vehicle can provide the keys to life for so many children.

I'll provide more information and photos in later posts, as I get permission.

Everywhere You Look

We've come from Mewat (site of the immunization day) to Jaipur to Agra (home of the Taj Mahal) to Varanasi. The spectrum from poverty to wealth is extreme, like nothing the US knows. Entire families sleep on the ground at the grimy train station, where tiny children scrounge the remainders of Lay's potato chip crumbs from bags in the trash. At the other end, families shop for jewels fit for a king.

Everywhere among the poor and the rich, there is filth. Yet everywhere we look, there is beauty.

woman at the well

Taj Mahal

Taking care of hay in the village

Ending Polio Now

Worlds apart from West Chester, PA, people in Mewat, Haryana, India, love a parade as much as my neighbors do. Drawn to the thrilling, ear-splitting beat of Indian drums, crowds gathered to watch members of a local Interact club raise red and yellow banners announcing the 14 November immunization day and Rotarians from US, Denmark and India walk and dance in a parade.


This rally, at the Delhi Megapolis Rotarians called it, raised awareness and excitement to attract children younger than five to immunization outposts. Who cannot resist immuniziing a baby?

The Beginning of the Journey

"You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no telling where you might be swept off to." --Frodo Baggins

This trip to India begins with today's flight, but the journey began much earlier. On my 2004 trip to immunize children against polio and to see the Taj Mahal, Rotarian Mark Little took our team to a children's center. There, I met Maina, an 11-year-old girl who had just been rescued from enslavement in the circus. She was smiling, obviously happy to have a new life. 

That was a turning point in my life, too. In one afternoon, I realized - with devastation - that slavery still exists. But I also realized - with hope and new determination - that ordinary people can do something to help its victims. Maina swept me off my feet... and I now think of her with each step of my journey.

Carol's Masala

"Masala" is a blend of Indian spices. As a friend from India pointed out, "masala" also means a hodge-podge of ideas, maybe with a spicy outcome.

Over the next two weeks, on my trip to India, I'll dish up a masala for you. I'll try to post an update or photo every few days... time, technology and electricity permitting. Look for news of:
* immunizing children against polio in Mewat, an area of poverty and illiteracy
* a visit to the majestic and historic Taj Mahal
* delivery of an SUV for a rescued-boy-slaves' rehabilitation center, the result of a couple years' efforts and a Rotary Mathing Grant
* a trip to Sarnath, site of Buddha's first sermon, and
* a sleepover at a women's shelter.

The subject of some of my upcoming entries--slavery, illiteracy, poverty--can be hard to face. I'll keep these entries as positive as possible--hopeful anecdotes and happy endings--without diminshing the serious nature of the plight of some of our fellow human beings.

Thanks for joining me on this journey!