1 circus bus

Thursday was Raksha Bandhan here in India, a holiday that celebrates siblings. As a result, a few of the organizations we had initially planned to meet had to do some schedule rearranging and so we found ourselves back at the AmeriCares India headquarters bright and early. There were a total of six of us feeling up to the excursion – five students and Dr. Parrish (one of the GW professors). The AmeriCares staff invited us to join them on their morning mission: delivering medical commodities to Chembur, an urban slum in Bombay. After packing up the AmeriCares car, our bus followed them for about an hour until we pulled into a narrow, rickety side street. Immediately I knew that this was not the sort of slum we visited previously. The smell was intense, trash was piled high, roads were muddy, and when we stepped off the bus it was as though the circus arrived in town. Children came running over, thrilled to walk with us through their neighborhood. Some kids spoke English well and we talked with them as we walked to the medical station. It seemed as the further we walked, the more children accumulated. Their energy was infectious and each one was eager to say something. They wanted to know our names and giggled like crazy when I repeated their names back to them. One boy talked about his school, how he loved studying science and math. Another told me his favorite color was green. They sang songs and acted as our personal bodyguards as we navigated their alleys.

A boy sitting in the entry way to his home

Me and some of the kids!

When we arrived at the medical clinic, we were able to enter and see how the operation worked. Lines formed at the door, information was logged into the laptop about each patient, and paper records were filed. The head doctor at the center pulled out a file for a woman who was being treated. He showed us where they had logged her last visit and how they were tracking her progress. Given the sheer number of people, it’s quite a feat to have such reliable patient records. The doctor visits this location once every two weeks and sees between 100-150 patients in the few hours he is there. Can you imagine if clinics in the U.S. could treat so many people in such a short time? So as not to disrupt the flow of traffic, we didn’t spend too long taking up precious space in their small workspace.

A staff member (left) checking in a patient

Dr. Parrish looking at the medical records with the on-site doctor from AmeriCares

Our growing cohort of kids eagerly greeted us upon exiting. They wanted to bring us to their school. We walked through dark, damp, narrow alleys lined with homes to get to school. Running directly down the center of the alley was an open pipeline, likely a sort of sewer system. We hopped from one side of the opening to the other, trying to avoid goats, people, laundry lines, buckets, food, trash, and of course, the kids. When we arrived on the grounds, they showed us their school building and then they proudly pointed out their jungle gym. My heart immediately sank and I could feel a welt building in my throat. Their playground was a rusty, old, piece of medal that resembled a Ferris wheel. Around it sat muddy, trash-laden grounds. Of course I warmly acknowledged their prized playground, but inside I couldn’t help but swallow feelings of utter sadness. These kids will never know the triumphs of making it across the monkey bars successfully or the thrills of swinging just a tad too high. Yet, they appreciate what they have and make the most of it. In our consumptive-centric society where we are always waiting for the next version of whatever Apple’s releasing, these kids provided me with an overdue reminder to appreciate some of life’s simple pleasures. Truth be told, not everyone has this opportunity.

Our growing cohort of children

The payground

As we wrapped up our whirlwind tour, I found myself reminding the kids to stay in school and study hard and thanked them for their graciousness, albeit intense at times. When we got on the bus, one of my classmates rightly pointed out that, unfortunately, even if those kids do stay in school and study hard, few if any, will ever leave that slum. Driving away from the chaotic experience of children hungrily vying for our attention while simultaneously trying to process the world in which they live, we all felt a bit deflated and helpless. Yes, helpless. The irony is not lost on me. We all wished we could have done more than provide them with much-craved attention for a short while. Alas, until the government of India along with its many NGOs can catch up to its growing populations’ health and environmental needs, these grave disparities will exist. This experience reminded me why I study public health. It reminded me why investing in innovative solutions to address health needs that are sustainable and scalable are the way to a brighter and healthier future. Change, especially behavior change, doesn’t occur overnight. In fact, it takes time, energy, persistence, and leadership. I am hopeful that change is on the way, but it doesn’t make it any easier to process the current realities in the interim.  

Homes in the slum

Later in the afternoon, our group visited SNEHA’s warehouse where women create bags, quilts and rugs from leftover fabric scraps. As I mentioned, through this process women are able to earn up to four times as much as they would otherwise. Their products were incredible and our team virtually bought them out! Stay tuned for more about SNEHA’s other initiatives… 

Quilts!