India... One day at a time.

For those of you that don't know what I'm up to these days or wonder what part of the world I am in now can find me in a little village in the very south of India near the city of Karungulam. I am working for a non-profit the Mercy Home Foundation that specializes in the housing and care taking of mentally and physically disabled women and girls. It is not something I was looking for but something that found me. Here is how it began…

My trip here took about five days down from the city of Delhi and prepared me a little for what I might be seeing. The level of poverty is unlike anything imaginable. The world as I know it is very different from the world here. People live on the streets. 200% more homeless then in America. Shacks and covered boxes or any material strong enough to hold up fabric provide shelter from the bugs. Flies and mosquitoes are also 200 times what we have back home. Maybe from the amount of garbage covering the ground or the monsoon season rain, the bugs here are intolerable.


Delhi being a bigger city here was extremely dirty. Parts were nice but for the most part it seemed we were living on top of a giant landfill. Smog looked like a smoke haze and the roads consisted of cars, tuk tuks, ox-pulled carts, and scooters. Families of four (little little children) would fit, helmet less, on a 2 seated scooter. Along the road side you can find a place to get a shave (the mirror on the fence and the seat outside next to the traffic), flower stands (they LOVE flowers here and all wear them in their hair everyday, I love this), different food stands, bananas (here there are many different types and sizes of bananas), and people always on the go walking barefoot.

During these five days we made our way to the Taj Mahal, about four hours away from Delhi. A place so beautiful and symmetrical yet smaller then I expected. During the drive there, is when I feared for my life. Driving in this country is a free-for-all. Lines and road hold no meaning. We maybe spent 99% of our time three cars wide on a two lane road, most of the time on the center line. I’m not sure of the traffic rules or how they get drivers licenses but I know for sure that there were no police enforcing any driving laws nor did our cab driver fear for his life. Dodging bikers, cows (these roam very freely here and are worshiped by the Hindu religion), and red light runners from the other direction, I am shocked to say we only had one run in with a biker who fell into us as he was avoiding a pack of bulls owning his side of the road.


There are no pastures for these animals and they are part of the traffic regularly. We also drove along side a camel driven carriage and a man on his way to who knows where by elephant. I tell you every time we got in the car was an adventure and more then once I considered taking Dramamine for the motion sickness.

Father Francis and the seven Sisters of the Sisters of Sacred Heart of Jesus have become our family. The Father worked in New Jersey for seven years and speaks perfect English thankfully. Susan, a girl I worked with in Rome is here with me as well and we are here to help work with the girls improving their speech, physical movement, and spirits. The village here is away from most civilization. We do have energy (most of the time) and are very taken care of by the sisters, however eating here has been quite a challenge. Spice is in everything. Curry is in at least two meals a day. Not loving either of these two things I have eaten lots of bananas. The Sisters make us plain eggs and potatoes as well, but other then that my stomach has not been settled
much.

Upon arrival to the Mercy Home we were greeted by a celebration. The girls showered us with scarves, flowers, and kisses. Some played the drums and trumpet as we walked through the front gate. It was more then surreal and I fought back tears as I realized the impact we would have. The girls lives here is a very sad story. In this culture a child with this illness can hinder the chances for the other children in the family to get married as easily. These types of illnesses are thought to be hereditary and with these family members it makes it more difficult to essentially sell this family verses one without a member of this disorder. However even with the living conditions of the people in the rest of the country these girls suffer terribly. Currently they live like animals. Sleeping on the floor with no pillows or sheets of any sort, two buildings with open windows for the flies to come out or in this case in as they please, and no tables to sit at and eat dinner. Minimal cleaning material (the bath is a large water well outside that they all gather around) and I'm not sure if some have ever brushed their teeth. The levels of mental disability range greatly. They really need a doctor to come even once to asses their illness. Some might have retardation, some mental shock, and some maybe autism. They have never been correctly diagnosed and are given medicine for sleep and relaxation unless one is physically ill with a fever or cut. Some can read to a point but some are brain dead and just kind of sit there. Could they actually have something going on in there? I wonder everyday. And then there are some I think really belong in a school. They are all there but maybe have just a set back. Some are so smart. I was horrified when I first realized how they were living.


The Sisters and the convent are doing everything they can with the limited money they are provided for medical care and facilities. The Mercy Home Foundation is currently building a building to better accommodate these girls. There are still a lot of things needed. Beds of some type just to get them off the floor, tiles for the floor so it is not just gravel, and medical attentions are really just the beginning. It is hard reality for me right now but I'm taking it one day at a time.