The Green Tara Project

As much as I am here to teach girls some new skills, they also teach me, too.  They teach me how resilient the human spirit is, and how girls are girls, and children are children, the world over.  Here is a snap from a class where I am teaching 6 to 8 year olds how to do a downward block, and they are showing me how incredibly adept they are at learning.

This is an article from a few weeks back published in the Times of India:

“PATNA: The magnitude of human trafficking in Bihar is alarming as about 35,000 to 40,000 children from the state were missing and nobody knew about their whereabouts, said former Delhi police commissioner Amod Kanth. There was no human development indicator in Bihar, resulting in the frequent use of child labour and violation of law dealing with it, he said.

Speaking on the first day of the three-day seminar on ‘Training of Master trainers: To combat human trafficking’, organized jointly by the crime investigation department (CID) of Bihar police and Save the Children, a civil society organization, here on Monday, Kanth stressed the need to redefine human trafficking as the present definition did not deal with the issue in its entirety. The Central government was working on a new manual to make it clear, he said, adding that the Immoral Trafficking Act discussed only about commercialization of sex and the Juvenile Justice Act talked only about children between 6 and 8 years of age.”

Traffic, old people, professionals, goats, bicycles, cars, sick dogs, trucks, tuk-tuks, scooters, motorcycles, couples, families, cows, cats, fruit sellers, chili dryers – you name it, and it has equal rights on any road anywhere in India.  The level of tolerance for the absurd on the roads here is shocking.  Should a dog happen to wander in front of oncoming traffic, it is oncoming traffic’s responsibility to stop or swerve or otherwise outmaneuver everyone else to avoid hitting the dog.  Should a tuk-tuk break down in the middle of the road, the river of traffic again makes monumental diversions to avoid hitting the stationary object.  These scenarios are repeated in scales both large and small constantly here, and it gives me the impression that everyone and everything touching the road is equal.  It doesn’t matter if you are an untouchable, a Brahmin, a man, a woman, a vehicle, or a goat:  all are given the respect of not being leveled flat by speeding traffic.

But then what happens to this attitude when people leave the road?  Where does that equality and tolerance for all go?  Because if The Road attitude pervaded society here, I think there would be a lot less girls for me to train.

Photo from tuk-tuk 1 (Mumbai 2012).

Horn please (Mumbai 2012).

Not just for driving (Mumbai 2012).

Mumbai highway road side (Mumbai 2012).

The classes I have done for Project Crayons have been unlike anything I have done before.  This is because the 40 or so girls I am teaching there range in age from 6 to 17 representing huge differences in interest, capabilities, and attention span.  But, I’m always up for a challenge, and so I head to the girls hostel facility, Udaan Ghar.

My first trip to Udaan Ghar takes me to the outskirts of a residential district and down a wide dirt path.  At the end of the path stand four or five row houses, each with big gated doors in front.  I duck through one of the gates, and am led into the house, into a smallish living room, and am surrounded by girls.  There are girls laying and sitting on a daise, others on the floor occupied with games or engrossed with the TV, and still others walking in and out of the room.  This is the girls’ spring break, and they are enjoying a movie and breakfast.

Like most spring breaks for children in hostel home dorm situations such as Udaan Ghar, the children can go home and visit their families.  Unfortunately, only about a third of the girls of Udaan Ghar were allowed to visit home this break; those still here have home lives that were deemed too dangerous for a visit.  A sobering thought.

Two cooks occupy the living room with the preparations for the days’ meals.  Roasting chilis fill the air with a smoke that makes my eyes water, making vision even more of a challenge after coming from the sun’s glare outside into this darkened interior.  While trying to adjust, I note that some of the girls, especially the young ones, are interested in my presence; the older ones, just like in the U. S., try hard to be cool and aloof, but I catch quick glances in my direction.  After rebuffing offers of food, I ask to be led to the training room.  And 40 or so girls follow.

Up the stairs we go to a spacious second floor room that is empty.  It quickly fills.  I did not count on not having the girls in age groups, but no matter.  I make the best of it and the hour goes by quickly.  Their energy is great and their giggles are infectious.  I am looking forward to the next class already.

For more information on the excellent work Project Crayons does, please go to:  http://www.projectcrayonsindia.org/projects.html

Tuesday was the first of my classes in Mumbai, and I made the trek from Kandivali West in the north to Bandra Kurla in the south by tuk-tuk.  My driving experiences in India leave me with the feeling that margins of safety are non-existent, and this ride is no exception.  It is filled with bumper to bumper jostling and mad dashes in front of oncoming traffic while exhaust fumes seem to coat every cell in my body.

An hour later, I arrive at Save the Children – India which offers the program Save Our Sisters.  There is a nice sized playground area, the space is open, and people and children mingle in the corridors and stairways.  Many programs are housed here, including those for special needs (deaf and down syndrome) children who are wearing green school uniforms to make them readily identifiable to an outsider such as myself.  After an introduction in an air conditioned(!) office, my program contact, Jyoti Nale, leads me to the fifth floor to meet the ladies.

Save Our Sisters young women are older than the ladies I have taught previously in Bihar, their ages ranging from 17 – 22.  They have ended up in Mumbai from all the corners of India from which they were trafficked – Bangladesh, Rajasthan, Hyderabad, even Bihar.  When I enter the room to meet them, I am barely given a second glance as they are huddled over a jewelry making project.  I wait as they carefully conclude their work.  They pull white t-shirts over their shalwazs, and then turn to me.

The first thing I do is to shake each and every one of their hands, and say, ‘Hi.’  They are not really sure what to do with this, and the dark brown eyes that look at me show curiosity, doubt, even dismissiveness.  But that soon changes as I raise my arms up overhead and wiggle my fingers.  Eighteen young ladies wordlessly follow.  Without saying a word, I curl my fingers into my palm, and wrap my thumb across the front of the fist, and 36 fists are high in the air.  Our classes have begun.

By the end of our hour together, the girls have learned the basics of a proper fighting stance, how to walk confidently, how to make a fist, how to make a hammer fist, how to hit with a hammer fist, what are the strong parts of a woman and what are the weak parts of a man.   As I stuff my pads back into my pack and white t-shirts are being removed, the air in the room has changed, a spark of excitement cast its energy across everyone.  It has been a wonderful first class, and I look forward to the next.

For more information on Save Our Sisters, visit their website:

http://www.savethechildrenindia.org/projects/womens_empowerment/save_our_sisters.html

Mumbai is everything anyone has ever said about it.  I feel very Alice-in-Wonderland-meets-Dorothy-in-Oz.  This was no where more prevalent than in the 2 hour taxi ride I had the night I got in to the city after traveling for 14 hours.

The taxi drivers here are notorious, and knowing this, I at least had the presence of mind to get a pre-paid taxi at the airport.  Even that is easier said than done, because non-pre-paid drivers vie for your business in the hopes of confusing you and taking you for a ride both physically and financially.  So after fighting off about 10 different ‘please get in’s, I finally found the right taxi line (with the help of a police man who I shamed into helping me), and in a state of post-airplane travel torpor, I slumped into the back of the taxi, and gave myself up to this jaunt.

True to all of the taxi drivers that have ever taken advantage of an out-of-towner, my driver took the ‘scenic’ route.  I wish I had been more awake, because this scenic route was amazing.  Moving from the main highway, my driver ventured into a side street barely wide enough for the taxi.  We snaked through this warren of pathways in what I can only describe as an angular luge shoot.  So, picture the smoothness of what one of these shoots is like at the Olympics, then replace the smooth sides with market stalls, people, cows, goats, bicycles, dogs, small children, then replace the smooth bottom with pot-holed dirt and brick, but keep the same plunging speed, sudden twists and turns, and you can just about imagine what this ride was like for 20 minutes.  What a welcome to Mumbai.

Total number of girls trained in Bihar:

46 new girls trained

+ 11 girls re-trained

+ 19 Shishu Bharti girls

76 total.

Here are a few more photos from KGBV’s last self defense class:

Right in the sweet spot (Simraha, 2012).

Sabira Ji takes a shot (Simraha, 2012).  Note: Sabira couldn’t stop laughing!  She thought it was hilarious that I was teaching this…and then when she took her turn, it was hard to get her to stop… : )

Another great strike to the ‘man parts’ (Simraha, 2012).

A joyous spirit (Simraha, 2012).

I had a lot of fun with the young ladies of Shishu Bharti, and they were a welcome addition to my class schedule.  In a very proud moment for me, Lalita Ji had said she had never seen the girls so happy after any class, whether it was singing or dancing or music.  I was so happy to hear that, to know that what I was teaching them was worthwhile for them.  Because even though I try to make the classes as engaging as possible, these are skills that could help save their life.  I’m glad they had fun AND learned something.

As with KGBV, the young ladies were given certificates and wrist bands on the last day of class, both of which disappeared as soon as they were issued to be proudly shown to Lalita Ji.  Here is the graduation class photo:

In total, 18 girls were taught (only 15 are pictured).  Lalita Ji is on the far right; her husband on the left.

Drinking tea with Lalita afterward, she asked for my suggestions for continuing this type of activity.  Smart woman.  I will be working with her virtually to provide ongoing support.

Not all my time was occupied by self defense in Forbesgunge.  I had the opportunity to walk around and take some pics.

Boy in an alley (Forbesgunge, 2012).

Sweet seller (Forbesgunge, 2012).

Sheltering tree (Forbesgunge, 2012).

Not yet awake (Forbesgunge, 2012).

Morning meditation (Forbesgunge, 2012).