The Green Tara Project

I have a gaggle of new girls who I started training Friday at Prerana (http://www.preranaantitrafficking.org/programs/homes.htm).  Prerana is located in Kharghar, Navi Mumbai, a dry, dusty area 40 minutes south of where I’m currently staying.  Trees are rare, so any walking is done in the full unabated heat of the midday sun which bakes my North American brain.

Kharghar, Navi Mumbai.

On the road to Prerana, Kharghar, Navi Mumbai.

I gather that not many foreigners visit here; my first day here was greeted by plenty of stares, nudges, and pointings.  Hesitant tuk-tuk drivers initially did not want to take me as a fare, but greed won out with one, and I was away to the facility.

I was told that I would have 14 girls in Friday’s class; it was a pleasant surprise to have 19 total.   These girls are vibrant, active.  They can hardly sit still, so I have to keep things moving quickly to keep them engaged and from hitting each other.  Their ages range from 7 to 18; their origins are diverse.  Some of these young ladies are the daughters of prostitutes who have attended one of Prerana’s night shelters for children in brothel districts.  Other girls here are orphans, and yet others are homeless.  They can come to Prerana as young as one years old, but many of them are here from the age of three.  Prerana accepts them after a family member has come forward to apply, or Prerana staff may have personally observed a homeless situation and make the appropriate inquiries and applications themselves.  It is currently vacation at this facility, so many of its young inhabitants have gone home to visit family.  The 20 or so girls I will train have remained at the facility for reasons I do not know.  What I do know is that I have my hands full of bright, inquisitive minds and lots of bubbly energy.

On train…

After my morning class at Prerana, it was off on the train again to my second class at Save Our Sisters (http://www.savethechildrenindia.org/projects/womens_empowerment/save_our_sisters.html).  During our second class, we warmed up with some physical fitness exercises, then reviewed hammerfist strikes I taught on Wednesday, followed by introducing palm strikes and finger strikes to the throat.  We also worked on their using their voice during the strikes, and I am happy to report that they are all able to be strongly vocal with just a little encouragement.  We finished by doing a little role playing for how not to look like or be a victim, a very popular and key concept for these girls and the environments they move in.

Will spend part of today working on lesson plans for rest of the week.  Pictures soon.

My morning started with a distantly sung Muslim wail projecting through loud speakers from a mosque one half mile away filtering through my window.  At the same time, right around the corner, the lights were coming on at St. Anthony’s Catholic parish for the six o’clock mass.  A beautiful Hindu temple covered in large carved elephants, also just blocks from my apartment, was wafting cleansing incense to to the world.  Welcome to Chembur.

St. Anthony’s Church

Ganesh Hindu Temple, Chembur.

I got up and went for a little walk around the neighborhood before the sweltering heat of the day set in.  This allowed me to buy my fruit and veg for the day.  Oh, how I missed having access to such lovely and tasty veggies in the States:

Vegetable stall, Chembur.

Returning to the apartment, I passed this lovely carved gate a the local park:

Carved park gate, Chembur.

Not a bad way to start the day…

I was so looking forward to my first class at Save Our Sisters (SoS), and the day did not disappoint.

My first surprise was to see that four young ladies who were trained back in December 2012 were in the class.  My next surprise was to see one young lady return who was a member of my very first class at SoS in April 2012 (she proudly showed my the black rubber bracelet stamped with ‘Fight Like a Girl’ that I had given to her 18 months ago).  My third surprise was that all five together have been assistants to Nilofar in the self defense classes for subsequent new girls.

The new girls were very shy (“Didi, they are scared,” I was told by the class veterans), but I was very pleased with how quickly they started to pick up the material.  We congregated to the ground floor of the Save the Children complex where we warmed up with light jogging, high knee jogging, side shuffling, and partner push ups in 85 degree heat with 75% humidity.  Within seconds, we were drenched, but the girls were very good sports and there was not a single complaint.

A note about the partner push ups:  The concept of ‘partner’ is lost on these girls who have never participated in a gym class, team sport, or any endeavor where they have to rely on someone else for their own success.  I mention this because this is something in my own upbringing that I have heretofore taken for granted.  I can’t imagine NOT having done gym, recess, and playing some kind of sport.  It melts my mind a bit to think of so many childhoods devoid of these simple pleasures.  That said, it was no surprise that the ‘partner’ push ups were a bit of a challenge.

Next we tackled punching, making a correct fist, and having them punch me in the stomach.  It was too much for them; they mutinied and refused to punch me.  After a brief verbal skirmish, Nilofar informed me that the girls thought they would hurt me, and they didn’t want to do that.  I responded by assuring them that I do enough sit ups (thank you, Jen Esp!) that my abs can withstand a good pounding.  After Nilofar was convinced, she in turn convinced the girls, and the ‘good pounding’ did indeed begin.  This ability to hit a living human being comes naturally for a boy; girls, not so much, which is why I focus on making the girls do this in these classes.

Next we tackled mapping a girl’s strong parts to the weak parts of a boy, and began learning hammerfist strike.  And then almost as quickly as it had started, the class had come to an end.  We wearily gathered in a circle, hammerfists in, and I snapped the above pic.  Not a bad way to end the first day.

The swelling in my feet and the heat of Mumbai hit me almost as soon as plane hit the tarmack at Chatrapati Shivaji International Airport.  Driving through the streets at 1:30 in the morning, Mumbai was lively as ever, this being the weekend of one of India’s largest festivals – Diwali.  Fireworks erupted randomly along the taxi’s route to my new digs in Chembur.  After a few mishaps, I fell into bed at 5:30 in the morning.  Thus began GTP’s Trip Four.

Because of Diwali, I have had a few days to catch up on sleep, start reclaiming the bits of Hindi I’ve learned on past trips, make some new friends and enjoy the celebrations over here.  As a ‘festival of lights,’ Diwali delivers in every respect: there are stories-high curtains of ‘christmas lights’, candle light, and fireworks.  And I’m talking fireworks the likes a U. S. 4th of July hasn’t seen.  It is nothing to see a 30′ long strand of firecrackers get lit up.  But that in and of itself is not enough, so small ‘bombs’ are added at regular intervals along the firecracker line.  The effect is amazing and deafening.

I can’t put my finger on it, but Mumbai is different.  Or maybe I am.  Or maybe sleep deprivation is having its way with my mind.

Today, I am catching up on emails, trying to get my phone charged with minutes, and looking to meet up with Nilofar Khan, the Save Our Sisters trainer.

Tomorrow, my new class will start at Save Our Sisters. : )

My first meal in Mumbai.

Having some fun.