Freedom

This weekend in DC, IJM will host the annual Global Prayer Gathering. Like the name implies, people will gather together from all over to pray for IJM's work around the globe. Each of the Field Office Directors from IJM's 14 international offices will fly in to lead participants in prayer for the unique needs of their particular field work. Part of my role as a Community Relations intern has been preparing our "prayer room" with slideshows and power point presentations, planning and producing the gifts for the participants who will visit our room, and working with my Field Office Director to put together stories and speeches. Additionally, our director will speak at one of the main group sessions and conduct a live video interview with one of our victims. I have had the privilege of writing the story and getting to meet this endearing and inspiring individual: Madhaav.

Madhaav is twelve years old. Reserved and bashful at first, it doesn't take long for his big smile to light up the room. Last fall, IJM investigators found Madhaav working in a rice mill, day and night, earning about a quarter--yes, 25 cents--each week. Instead of going to school or playing with boys his age, he was forced to lay out rice paddies to dry and work in the machine room alongside adults. His parents and older siblings also worked at this rice mill and the one across the street. The entire family was being forced to work to pay back small loans the father and older brother had taken out; they were not free to leave the facility nor seek additional work to pay back the loan. When his grandfather passed away, the family had to leave one member behind as human collateral to ensure their return--Madhaav stayed in the rice mill. Their debt continued to increase because they were forced to "borrow" money to pay for basic expenses, like additional food necessary to survive and medicine. The women feared the owner's sexual advances, and the men were helpless to defend their wives or own dignity because of the owner's abuses towards them and apathy towards the law. Though he was only a child and also blind, Madhaav was forced to work tirelessly alongside the other forced laborers. When IJM investigators met Madhaav, he told them that he wanted to be rescued from the rice mill because he wanted to "see the world."

The IJM team put together a compelling case and presented the evidence of forced labor to the local authorities. A rescue operation was planned and executed successfully; Madhaav and fourteenother laborers from the two rice mills were presented with official release certificates granting them freedom. Today, Madhaav lives happily with his older sister and her husband.

Last week, I got to visit him in his village with one of our aftercare managers. (After victims are released from a facility, an IJM aftercare manager is assigned to each family. The family receives regular visits from this IJM social worker for the next two years--guiding and supporting their gradual and stable reentry into a free society.) I had read through all of the victim statements taken by the investigators and pored over the many reports detailing the rescue operation. I had in fact written a case narrative summarizing the entire case from the first phone call referral to the current aftercare of each family to the nascent legal stages. I had already submitted a story about Madhaav to Headquarters. But as I sat on the hard floor of a tiny hut with a roof thatched together with twine, thin sticks and palm leaves, I heard Madhaav's story like it was the first time.

I was there with my Field Office Director to meet Madhaav and ask if he would be willing to come in and share his story before a video camera, to be broadcast at the Global Prayer Gathering. So I scribbled down notes in my moleskine, translations whispered by a colleague and dear friend. But I didn't need translation to understand the bond between Madhaav and his IJM aftercare manager, the steady hand placed gently on Madhaav's shoulder as he sat back down on the mat after standing to pantomime the motions he was once forced to perform, raking and moving the rice paddies. I didn't need words to smile and make funny faces at his younger twin brothers and cousin, three small boys in the first grade who proudly counted to ten and recited their fractured ABC's as they struggled to sit still, flanked by their mothers and older siblings sitting quietly to observe these strange outsiders asking Madhaav so many questions about a hard past. When we asked what Maadhav remembered about the owner of the rice mill, his permanently unfocused eyes shifted downward and his thoughtful silence spoke more than words ever could.

Love, laughter, fear--these cut quickly across culture and circumstance.

Weekly Round-Up

Highlights this week include:

* Completed projects.  I am a finisher.  I enjoy the imagining and planning and creating, but I love the finishing.  (Details, delegated.)  This week two of my primary assignments were ticked off the (growing!) list.  The Conference on Tuesday, as I mentioned previously, was an encouraging and exciting event.  Actually, it was really more of a beginning.  Now I look forward to thinking creatively, along with my coworkers, how to best incorporate the ideas and actions proposed by the various pastors and leaders to end forced labor.  But step one, finished.  

* Laughing and sewing until 3am with fellow delirious colleagues/perfectionists to finish the Global Prayer Gathering gifts.  250 lucky individuals will be the recipients of reusable shopping bags, screen-printed with drawings by children released from facilities using forced labor.  These gifts are a token to remind them to pray for IJM and our work specifically.  The Global Prayer Gathering is next weekend, in DC.  The Field Office Directors from around the world will fly in to lead conference-goers in prayer for their respective office's specific needs.  I have been working on power point presentations, the aforementioned gifts, and stories that our director will share to illustrate the challenges and triumphs our office continues to experience.  Part one is finished: after numerous trips to the chaotic market called Parrys to buy the bags and haggle over prices, back and forth and many proofs with the printer, malfunctioning sewing machine(s) and re-calculating fabric measurements to accommodate our ambitious project.  Who knew Adobe Photoshop, needles and thread were part of my Community Relations internship?

* Freedom Training.  An incredible half-day spent "in the field" with our aftercare staff, who were leading a 3-day crash course in basic life skills for the most recently rescued laborers.  After a rescue operation, IJM staff conducts Freedom Training for the families who came out of the facility to teach them crucial lessons like how to open a bank account, basic legal rights, health and hygiene, vocational and school options.  Afterwards, each aftercare manager will begin more in-depth, long term aftercare for each individual family and visit them in their respective village for the next two years.  I was amazed and humbled to witness the passion of the IJM staff leading the training.  I discovered that a camera is an excellent bridge builder between a non-Tamil speaker (me) and children (who, understandably, love to see their smiles captured on my screen).  I observed victims, from grandparents to parents hardly more than seventeen years old, shut their wearied yet hopeful eyes as they learned how to express various emotions in healthy ways.  I sat on a faded straw mat on the floor with a middle-aged couple, their son and an IJM Advocate to participate in an exercise to get them talking about their hopes and their dreams for a free future.  Incredible.  

* Pizza Hut pizza and even better conversations shared around our dining room table on Friday night.  Fellow interns and a few staff trickled in over the course of the evening to partake of our makeshift feast, legal banter (mostly over my head) and childhood stories (mostly embarrassing).  

* Bachata.  A dance from the Dominican Republic.  A class with significantly more males than females.  An instructor who told us practicing is as easy as bending your knees while standing on the bus to practice your hip swivels.  Sometimes I wonder, where am I?! 

A good day of work

Today we saw the fruit of months-long labor come to bear. We hosted a conference for local leaders in the Christian community, a first for IJM (and my first major Community Relations event). Our Senior Vice President of Education flew in from DC Headquarters to lead the sessions and also provide training for Community Relations staff from all South Asia offices. After weeks of phone calls, check lists, schedule changes and planning the content of the day, the conference was an encouragement.

My logistical responsibilities are complete, but I will continue to pray that the individuals who attended and shared candidly about the struggle to take up the weighty cases of injustice will carry the call to their churches and organizations, large and small. A major goal was addressed during the small group discussions as the leaders from a variety of faith backgrounds brainstormed practical, sustainable methods to effectively wipe out slavery from the community. And then beyond. In order to eradicate the unlawful yet tolerated practice of forced labor, creative collaboration among the community is necessary. More and more, I am convinced not only of the necessity for cooperation and leadership from the political and legal spheres, but for unity among the Body of Christ on earth.

Happy at work. (My first attempt to tie a sari on my own...thank you, Google. And thank you to the women who fixed my pleats!)

Happy after work. (Isn't my bike awesome?)

Bicycyle shop where I bought "Miss India."

Birthday memories

In the play Julius Caesar, Shakespeare warned his audience of the Ides of March, but this year, in this foreign land, I decided to embrace this fateful anniversary--which happens to coincide with the day of my birth.  Last night, my roommates and I prepared a feast and had a toga party in honor of this auspicious day.  But the birthday celebrations began even before this festive dinner party.

I arrived at the office Friday morning in a tizz, having shared an auto with my roommates and encountered difficulty providing the proper fare (our driver claimed he couldn't make change.  Alas, he ended up with an extra ten rupees.)  My desk was covered in flashy plastic garland, with a bunch of fresh flowers plus bright pink, green and gold lettering on the wall displaying my nickname(s): Miss India (and T-Dog).  The first name is after my bubble-gum pink bicycle, brand name "Miss India."  Friday mornings all of our staff gather for the infamous Masters Game, twenty trivia questions covering an impressive range of current events, etymology, obscure Old Testament references, geography and everything in between.  Following the competitive frenzy, I was presented with a hot-pink cellophane "Miss India" sash and shiny gold paper crown.  I'm sure my face turned similar shades to match my sash as I stood for the extended version of the "Happy Birthday" song.  I was indeed surprised and felt very celebrated!

Our lovely Director of Admin took me and a couple other colleagues who recently celebrated birthdays out for lunch, another delicious treat.  Afterwards, I cycled home to get my treats so that I could uphold the local birthday tradition.  I really like this tradition, although it is counter-intuitive to this inherently Americanized mindset.  In South Asia, it is expected that on your birthday, you treat others.  Luckily I had a bag of Dove chocolates for a special occasion stashed in my fridg.  As I passed out the chocolates, I received many smiles, blessings AND several pinches on the cheeks or chin!  Despite the extra year added on overnight, I am still the "baby" of the bunch at work.  (One of my colleagues also explained that while pinched cheeks does indicate one's youth, it is a very endearing gesture which also expresses love and admiration!)  Another favorite moment was posing for a spontaneous photograph atop a step-stool in my sash, "Miss India" surrounded by the entire Investigations team.  In less than two months time, I have garnered the most pretentious nickname an Intern has probably ever had. 

Needless to say, the birthday energy ran high on Friday, but my productivity level was correspondingly low.  After a couple hours catching up on work in the office Saturday morning, I enjoyed a stellar brunch and women's Bible Study led by our director's fabulous wife.  Then, to prepare for Saturday's festivities, my roommates and I did some shopping, washing, cooking and baking.  A dinner generally requires stops at three different grocery stores or fruit stands.  Then the washing step--for instance, my salad: three bunches of spinach and a head of lettuce, washed leaf by leaf in dish detergent, plus the tomatoes and cucumbers.  The green beans and grapes soaked in mild bleach solutions.  Etc, etc.  Eating fresh produce here is a labor of love.  Our efforts were thoroughly enjoyed and I was humbled and blessed by the lovely and diverse group gathered around our crowded table.  

And finally, the actual birth day!  After eating some leftover birthday cake as soon as I woke up (and then helping my auto driver push our auto back to the main road when he, unsuccessfully, ventured down a side street under construction), I arrived at Amethyst.  The haven of delicious cappuccino and lots of pretty green plants, which my soul often craves in this crowded city.  One of the somewhat ironic lessons I'm learning in this chaotic place and time is the value of simply being still.  So here I sit, with plans to spend some time reflecting on the changes of this past year and on Him who dwells outside of time, unchanging.    

Just another Wednesday

Although I've been here for over six weeks, every day is still full of new sights, sounds and sometimes tastes.  However, I'm growing quite accustomed to encountering these daily new experiences.  I expect to be surprised. (I usually enjoy it too!)  A few things which surprised me today:

* I am still fine-tuning my daily commute.  I biked to work this morning with my roommate Jen.  (Several of us interns bought cycles this weekend.  Pictures forthcoming.  Stories will be, undoubtedly, ongoing.)  The main road off of our avenue has been under construction (a more accurate term would be de-construction, not sure still why they dug up this quiet road when there are many others needing serious attention) and the dirt piles were cleared so we could cycle without having to cross over three lanes of the scary street to make a u-turn.  However, we did have to cross the street, at a new (still scary) point.  After I was facing five chaotic rows of cars, motorcycles, etc all making a left turn across my planned path, I decided the best option was to pick up my bike and walk along the median.  Eventually, I found a relatively calm spot to hoist my bike back on the road and cross.  And I mapped out a new path for tomorrow.

* I learned that a "hotel" is a synonym for "restaurant."  Yes, after six weeks of eating at Palimar Hotel, Sangamum Hotel and Pamba Hotel (three popular lunch spots near our office) I learned that if you come to visit me, there is nowhere to sleep above or behind these eateries--and you don't want to sleep in the kitchen.  But a hotel is also called a hotel.  And many hotels do indeed have restaurants attached, and named the same name as the hotel.  Oh.  

* Whipped cream does not necessarily stay whipped if it is whipped in a hot or humid setting.  And de-whipped cream will not be re-whipped.  Tonight the other gal interns had us all over for a delicious feast; (pesto gnocchi, roasted vegetables, bruschetta, cheese and crackers, marinated rosemary chicken...am I back in Italy?) I provided dessert.  I stopped to buy fresh strawberries from a newly discovered and very nearby fruit stand, (was momentarily distracted by a large parade processing through the rush hour traffic--a Northen wedding tradition--complete with a DJ and loud speakers blaring music to announce the groom riding slowly, gallantly on a white horse) and purchased vanilla ice cream and heavy cream from the corner store.  The cream came in packets, which was interesting.  So I whipped and whipped and finally got stiff peaks.  Then walked away to check my brownies melting into gooey goodness in the Celsius-degree oven.  When I came back, my perfect peaks had melted.  I discovered that a kitchen sans AC does not bode well for a dessert snob with Glancy Girl genes.  At any rate, the brownie sundaes and strawberries in cream turned out to be a lovely combination.

What a great day.

Steve's Visit

A few weekends ago, my dear friend Steve came to visit on a bumpy 6-hour bus ride from his town outside of Bangalore.  He brought a couple of his teacher-volunteer-friends from Shanti Bhavan, where he is currently volunteering his time and talent(s) as an 11th grade English teacher, soccer star and all-around role model.  The school is a boarding school, K-12, for Dalit children, the lowest caste in a system which thrives and discriminates still--despite laws and growing awareness.  I was, still am actually, grateful to have such a good friend to not only see my space, but listen to me verbally process many of the incomplete and impossible to write about thoughts inside my head.  While our immediate environments are quite different (for instance, he is in a rural village on a plateau, I am in a bustling city in a pool of humidity) we are sharing many questions, lessons, struggles and laughter living in this beautiful country.  It was good to share some of these things in person!

Housewarming party for my new flat/Tierney's friend Steve is in town so let's have dinner party:

We miss our Furman Friends from SC!

Detail: A Hindu Temple

Very tall entrance to this complex of mini temples, shrines and even a concession stand!  We wandered around but were politely, firmly asked to leave one area that was marked "Hindus Only." 

Detail: St. Thomas Basilica

According to Church Tradition, St. Thomas the Apostle brought the Gospel to South Asia.  He is buried beneath this altar and his relics are stored in the chapel below this main basilica.

A Beautiful Church.

So fun to have a familiar face to share some of these unfamiliar experiences!