Paul Ramsey's First Blog Entry

Paul on train with Haman

Background

Five years ago, Richard and I went to India and were so overwhelmed with the poverty, we said we had to do something, but what is one to do in the face of such overwhelming need?  Taking our cue from Mother Teresa who said (I’m paraphrasing) that if we cannot do great things, we can do small things with love, we decided to try to get people in our parish interested in India.  To this end two years ago, four of us from the parish went to India for three weeks to sight see; to work with low caste, illiterate or semi-illiterate families in two of the communities Richard and I had visited, Khajuraho, site of the Khama Sutra temples, and Varanasi, site of the 24/7 crematoriums on the Ganges; and to volunteer at one of Mother Teresa’s homes.  Out of that trip came a name, TIG (The India Group, https://sites.google.com/site/newyorknewdelhi/home), and a decision that we would work to find funds for two and only two areas:  Education and Healthcare.  Last years five of us went to India for three weeks again, generally following the itinerary of the previous year.  (We plan to take a group again in February; if you are interested in going, write to theindiagroupnyc@gmail.com.)  Others who have not traveled to India have become interested in the work.  Currently ten of us are very involved with the work and endeavoring to raise funds to keep it going.  We are currently supporting 11 children in school (7 girls and 4 boys) in three communities, Khajuraho, Varanasi, and Delhi.  On the healthcare front we have raised funds for two surgeries, for one boy who was in a coma from encephalitis, for numerous bouts of malaria and typhoid, and further health problems that we in the affluent West would never even think about. 

Cast of Characters:

Mille

Mille is a seven-year-old girl who is in the second grade.  She was born with a cleft palate.  Her father, Baba, is illiterate (I’m almost certain he’s dyslexic) but has an incredible facility to learn languages he hears.  He speaks Hindi, English, Spanish, French, Italian, and some Japanese--all of which he’slearned on the streets of his hometown, Khajuraho, from tourists who come to visit the Khama Sutra temples. 

He “runs the tourists,” which means if he takes you to a store and you buy, he gets a small percentage.  When Mille was born, Baba convinced an Israel tourist to pay for the surgery needed to close the hole in the roof of her mouth. 

Mille needs a second surgery and many of you reading have raised the money needed to take her to the Operation Smile hospital in a far Eastern province of India called Assam.  Operation Smile will perform the surgery for free, but for two years we’ve been raising funds to get the family to the hospital and pay for their room and board while there.  And why does the whole family have to go?  Well, like any mother, Ramakuiyan, approximately 27 years old and married to Baba (approximately 29) for 11 years, wants to be with her daughter when she has surgery.  

Mille's Family

It would be inappropriate for her to travel without her husband, Baba, and there is no one to leave the other two children with, Krishna and Haman.  (Krishna is 4 and started school this year.  Haman is eight months.)  I’m traveling with them because no one in the family can read, so it’s pretty much impossible for them to travel outside their village without the help of “a reader”  (I’m serving as that reader), and Assam in way outside their village, a 40-hour train ride!  (We’re traveling by rail because we can’t afford the round-trip plane fare for four, though we will take the plane back to Delhi from Assam.  For the record, I want to make it clear that I’m covering all my expenses, so none of your contributions are going to cover my costs.) Baba has been to Delhi before, so he knows how to get the family that far.  I will meet them in Delhi.

Sunday, June 9

I flew out today on Air India (14 hours and change in Economy) and the drama has already started.  Baba called last night to report that he can’t find the official papers we paid to have prepared for Mille and Krishna.  They have no birth certificates as they were born at home.  (TIG paid for prenatal care for Ramakuiyan when she was carrying Haman and for him to be delivered in a hospital in a neighboring town, about 45 minutes away, so he has a birth certificate.)  They live in one room, so I don’t know how anything could get lost.  Baba explained that there has been a lot of confusion and a lot of people in the house as Baba’s 18 year old sister met and married her husband last week in an arranged marriage that the family will be paying for the rest of their lives.  Each of the three male adult immediate family members put in 40,000 Rupees, about $750.  Richard and I gave the girl a gift of $200 that Baba got “credit” for. 

Bablu left with his children, Baba right and Mille in a purple dress

The remainder he raised he said by pawning things, including his wife’s jewelry--jewelry that was undoubtedly purchased through other pawnings.  Baba paid for his two other sisters’ and a brother’s wedding as well as his own when he was making good money selling drugs to tourists.  He stopped this when Mille was born because he didn’t want to take the chance of going to jail and not see her grow up.  Since then he’s been basically destitute, living off the little he can make running the tourists.  Apparently, he gave the official papers to Ramakuiyan who misplaced them.  He’s going to bring Mille’s report card and Krishna’s school registration.  I do hope we aren’t going to have trouble traveling without official papers for the children.  We’ll see soon enough I guess.

Monday, June 10

The plane landed 15 minutes early and I was through customs with luggage within an hour.  Baba and Bablu met me at the airport where I checked into the 2 1/2 stars Jennifer Hotel (clean and hot water if you ask for it).  We bought a few things--a belt for Baba, shoes for Bablu, all for under $10--in the neighboring Kaol Bagh Market (the heat was rough, 100 degrees Fahrenheit) and proceeded to Bablu’s “home”--if that’s what you can call it--for dinner and to pick up Baba’s family which has spent the day with Bablu’s 

Let me introduce Bablu and his family.  Bablu’s hometown is Khajuraho, but he ran away in February because he had gambling debts he realized he could never pay.  When he tried to work the cabal he owed the money to would meet him before he got home, take his pay harass him and give him “bamboo massages.”  The whole tragedy--and tragedy it is--started when he had to raise money for his brother’s wedding.  He fled to a factory ghetto in Delhi with his wife, Chanda and their three children:  Sakshi (9), Jyoti (5), and Deepak (4).  He went to this harsh area of Delhi because he had relatives there and he thinks it will be hard for his creditors to find him.  They now live in a 7 by 7 concrete room fronted by an alley that has rubber-encased wires on the ground over which water runs (Are the wires electrical?  Is the water part sewage?  No one seems to know or much care.  It’s what the people are used to).  It was heartbreaking when I visited them today to see the children sleeping on the concrete; there is no room for beds.  They were very poor in Khajuraho, but this urban poverty is worse. 

Baba told me Ramakuiyan told him that she couldn’t live there for one day and this is something as the room they live in in Khajuraho would most charitably be described as a “hovel,” but it does have a bed.  The girls told me they liked their new school, but tell Bablu they would like to return to Khajuraho.  He can stay in Delhi with him gambling problems.  I told Baba that everyone seemed happy.  He said “on the outside, but not as much on the inside.” 

Tuesday, June 11

Train station with luggage carrier

Well we boarded the today for Guwahati, Assam.  We’re in the best section of the train, A2, which means that it’s air-conditioned (a bit too cold for me) with four benches/beds in a compartment--one above the other on each side of the compartment.  We’ve got two upper seats in one compartment that Ramakuiyan, Haman, and Baba are going to occupy.  I’ve got a lower bed with Mille and Krishna above me.  It looks like the 5th bench in another apartment won’t get much use, but I’ve garnered the blanket.  The kids are incredibly good, and I’ve had the opportunity to see Ramakuiyan and Baba interact.  He’s in his own world as always, wandering off to sneak a smoke or chew disgusting beetle juice, but they talk and it’s nice to see her outside the shadows of that dark room that is her home.  She talks and has much more personality than I had surmised.  I bought some art supplies for the children to play with and Mille is really enjoying them.  I asked Baba what she knows about this trip.  He said he had told her she was going to have surgery to have her mouth repaired, but I have the sense she has no idea what those words mean.  Bablu told me, before I saw Mille, that she had lost a lot of weight and Baba told me she complains of pains in her chest, so I’ve been worried about her general health and in particular about whether they would find any reason not to perform the surgery.  Now I’ve seen Mille, she doesn’t look so much thin as taller, but I don’t have a good eye for such physical changes.  I’m still hoping there’s nothing to interfere with the surgery.  It’s a long way to come for no surgery.

Wednesday, June 12

32 hours is a long train ride.  By Western standards the train would be judged “bad,” but by Indian middle class standards, it’s right on.  The bathroom, if not clean, is not terrible, and one of the compartments had a western toilet with soap and toilet paper when last I had an interest. 

On the train

The train is remarkably quiet.  We’re a noisier family with two younger children, Baba with a loud voice, and a computer that plays ghost movies that Baba and Mille so love. 

Yesterday we watched A Nightmare on Elm Street.  Food is included in the fare and it is fair--nothing special but not terrible by any means.