I am back in the United States now, but have just a few more blogs to wrap up from my final days in India.
I started noticing that some children in Little Flower village weren't going to school. In particular, there were two brothers, aged about 5 and 7, who just roamed around in the street. I found that they were neglected and left to themselves most of the time.
They were sometimes doing dangerous things, like playing in a deep swamp or dangling their feet from the roof of my building.
I tracked down their mother, who has a very difficult life. She spends all day carrying manure out of the cow stalls. She balances it in a big metal container on her head. She said that her kids had tried to go to school, but that other kids had chased them off. So I had them properly enrolled. Both boys are starting out in preschool.
After a few days, I saw that the big boy wasn't at morning assembly. I couldn't find him anywhere. I asked the cook Sakiran to show me where they lived.
Seeing their home made me cry.
You walk into a teeny tiny trash-strewn hallway kitchen, which opens into a filthy, dark bedroom. That's it. That's where two parents, two children, and two grandparents live. The one window is covered with black cloth. It's impossible to take a step without getting goat dung all over your feet. The bed has no mattress or bedding, just a few dirty rags.
I went out and found the boy gathering grass for the goat, holding a little scythe in one hand and wearing only a shirt. He ran away when I called to him. I followed him home, where his grandfather was yelling at him. He must have sent him out for the grass instead of to school. His poor grandfather is severely disabled by leprosy, missing fingers, toes, and most of his nose and eyelids.
I took these pictures and tried to find his pants, to no avail. I was getting anxious because I couldn't take him to school as he was. The grandfather came in from the porch and took a swing at the boy's head. He missed, and the boy and I ran out.
Finally, I recruited a neighbor to help me find his one pair of pants. She helped me get him cleaned up at the outdoor water pump that several families share.
I couldn't do very much, but to keep from despair I tried to focus on the little ways in which I could help.
I made sure they were in school as long as I was at Little Flower. I had someone translate for me when I spoke to the mother a few times. I asked her to stop hitting the kids (I can see her hitting them when I look into the cow pen from just outside my room). I thanked her again and again for sending the kids to school in the morning.
That part I could do on my own in Hindi: "Thank you! Two son school! Good! Very good! Me happy! Thank you!"
I emailed the next volunteer who's coming soon and asked her to watch out for them and to bring a few pairs of shorts. We can't give too much to one family because everyone is poor, and it can create resentment from neighbors or an environment of expecting handouts from foreigners.
The hallway kitchen.
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