Markets, Mangos, and BLTs

Well, I have survived my first day in India, with jet lag, and appear to still be in tact.  It was a pretty slow day, mostly just doing some shopping and trying to stay out of the heat.  (Apparently, it was approximately 117 degrees today.)
I tried a mango this morning, which was definitely worth eating again!  Normally I'm not a fan of the flavor, but this was super sweet and tasty.  After breakfast we went to a market where we were able to buy some kurtas (shirts), dupaches (scarves...although I'm not sure if that's how you spell it or not), and pants (which I do not know the special name for) that'll be a lot cooler than our jeans and t-shirts!  Then we got to experience the Indian form of grocery shopping.  Everything is in little stalls that are laid out kind of like a small grocery store, just with the addition of flies, stray dogs, and lots of Indian men trying to sell you things.  It was certainly an experience!  We bought a lot of fruit and vegetables, which have to be bought fresh quite often because they go bad so quickly in the heat.  (Notice heat is a common theme?)
Ironically, our first meal, excluding breakfast, in India was not Indian.  :)  We had BLT sandwiches instead, which was much appreciated on a stomach still having flashbacks of tasteless airplane food.
In the afternoon, after a nap, we went to a department store version of the market, where we were able to buy some more kurtas and pants at a bit of a higher price.  But, there were dressing rooms and actual sizes on the clothes and air conditioning and fun music playing in the background, so it was completely worth the higher price.
Now, I'm struggling to keep my eyes open for just another half hour or so before I head off to bed.  We just finished a walk up the street to one of the many freelance tailors who sit along the roads or in stalls in between shops.  (Some of my shirts needed to be let out a tad bit.)  There were some more stray dogs along the side of the road and I think I almost got hit by a couple cars while crossing the street.  Overall, a pretty relaxing day!  Looking forward to seeing what tomorrow brings!

Shouting for the World to Hear

I leave for India tomorrow!  As I reflect on the months that have brought me up to this point, I remember this reflection I wrote about a month ago.  My heart is ready to see what's going to happen over these next few weeks, and I can't wait!  Although I could pass on the plane...

Another book that we were required to read was the story of Project Rescue itself: Beyond the Soiled Curtain.  I’ve read it before, actually a couple of times; but there’s something powerful behind the stories when you are looking forward to seeing this with your own eyes.  As I sit in the airport, waiting to catch a flight to Charlotte to Des Moines, where I will arrive home to a loving family, a house with broken air conditioning (that is hopefully getting fixed today), a church that embraces me and encourages my faith…I think of how that compares to the girls I will meet in India.  Some of them have a mother in the brothels and no hope of ever knowing who their dad is; but they have found a new family in the Home of Hope where they are loved and cherished.  Some of them have known nothing but the brothels for many years (or perhaps their entire lives); but they now have a safe place with a bed and a roof where no man can hurt them.  Some have known only the religion of money, where money buys them and hopefully someday buys freedom; but now they have found hope and love in a God that loves them more than they could ever imagine.

The final paragraph has become my anthem for these girls, and I want to shout it for all the world to hear:

“It is our prayer that individuals, churches, organizations and even businesses will join Project Rescue in declaring to the world, ‘Exploited women and children matter.  We will give them a home.  We will fight for their freedom.  We will tell them that their Creator loves them and He has prepared a place for them in heaven where they will walk the streets of gold with their heads held high…because they are children of a King!” [emphasis added]

Springfield Training

Well, I arrived in Springfield yesterday after a bit of a drive from Des Moines.  We had a pretty relaxed evening that included dinner at a Chinese restaurant in downtown Springfield, a trip to the airport, and ice cream from Andy's/sitting on the side of the road watching cool classic cars drive by.  :)  Today begins our training, and I can't wait to hear more stories, learn more skills, and get to know my fellow interns better!

The Send Off

Today my church sent me off (figuratively) with well-wishes and blessings.  It's really special to know that there are so many people that love and care about you.  I hope I will be able to share some of that love with the girls that we work with.
Even the church building had something to say about me leaving.  I think trapping me in the elevator was it's little way of saying, "Of course I want you to go.  Do your thing.  Make a difference.  Just be sure and come back because I'll miss you."  Yup, I'm pretty sure that's what it meant.

Preparations...

Well, as my trip draws closer and closer, I become more and more excited!  Kendra (the other intern at my site) and I are working on preparing for a summer camp that we will be primarily responsible for when we arrive in India.  Of course, this is only one small part of what we'll be doing while we are over there.  The majority of our time will be spent with the girls in the home: getting to know them, helping with daily living, and simply blessing the staff there in whatever way possible.  Just a couple more weeks and all our preparations will pay off!

Speaking Through Silence

In one of my education classes earlier this semester, one of my teachers mentioned a book called Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson.  Since it seemed similar to what I would be dealing with both this summer and later on in my life as a teacher, I bought it and finally found time to read it this past week (I did a lot of free reading during finals to de-stress myself…).

What struck me about this book is that the story is not all that different when you get right down to the nitty gritty from the story of Sold.  The context was different: one in Nepal, one in New York.  One sold to a brothel, one taken advantage of at a party.  One reaching out to be rescued, one refusing to speak in hopes that the memories will fade.  But the story is the same: rape, brokenness, emotional scars, and a long road ahead to healing.

Something that brought me hope through this particular book, however, was how this young girl eventually found her voice: through art.  It was her art teacher that saw the pain depicted in her paintings and helped her to confront it.  This summer I’ll be working with Project Rescue; but part of what we will do will involve a method/idea called Rescue Arts.  Rescue Arts is the idea of using arts therapy to work with girls who have been victimized and helping them begin the healing process.  It utilizes drama, singing, dancing, writing (my strong point), and other artistic endeavors to give these girls a voice!  They are finally free to speak without fear of consequences for sharing their thoughts!

Sold: The Story of a Slave

As part of our preparation for this summer’s internship, we were asked to read a book by Patricia McCormick called Sold.  In between studying for finals and writing papers this past week, I set aside some time to read this book: the story of a Nepalese girl sold into sex slavery in India.  It certainly wasn’t easy to put down!  I read it in just a few sittings.

The story begins with a little girl like you or me living with her family on a farm in Nepal.  They are obviously struggling financially, but the most vivid thing that appeared to me was the love shared between mother and daughter.  This little girl loved her mother, and her mother loved her.  The only part of the equation that didn’t equal out was that of the step-father, who eventually sold his little girl to a woman from the city…supposedly to be a servant in a rich person’s house.

From that point, nothing is as it was for this girl.  I won’t repeat the vividness of the stories or the graphic details therein revealed (although I would recommend that you read the book yourself if you are interested in learning more).  Her story was not a fairytale; it was more like a never ending horror flick…the real kind, not the ones with bad effects and lame monsters.

My heart broke for this little girl and the others like her who have found themselves in these terrible positions.  The good news for the girl in this story is that she was eventually found and freed from her prison…but there are so many other that stayed trapped and locked away.  And even for this girl, freedom has not yet been won.  She will have a long, hard road ahead of her to overcome the trauma of what has occurred.  Her life has been marked forever…and she was only 13.