Navratri the Right Way!!

Celebrating Navratri has always been exciting from me back in California. I can recall weeks of excitement, going from Cal Poly Pamona Garba Rass to UCLA’s to Irvine’s, etc. This year I was privileged enough to celebrate Navratri the right way, in Gujarat!! Two of the Service Fellows, who are located in Ahmedabad, Gujarat, home of the biggest Navratri celebrations, kindly opened their doors to us like family. Four other fellows joined us from different cities and seven of us got to spend the weekend enjoying each other’s much missed company and the exciting tradition of dancing for Navratri.

Navratri is a Hindu Festival of worship and dance. Navratri means nine days, in which the goddesses of Hindu religion are celebrated.

Included are pictures of us dressed up for the occasion as well as others who were wearing the traditional dress with all their beautiful colors.

For the rest of the pictures you can go to:

http://uci.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2171519&l=b3c32&id=6011342

Outreach Work

Today I tagged along with the head outreach worker at my program. The outreach workers are a group of HIV positive people that choose to use their status to benefit others. They go into the hospitals and communities in search of pregnant woman, encouraging them to get tested for HIV…all in hopes of preventing their children from contracting HIV during birth. Overall the experience in the hospital was unique. I was escorted through the HIV division where I was able to converse with all the doctors and counselors, while being explained the process. One of the doctors introduced me to a HIV patient that also has TB and explained his symptoms to me. Last week I saw a Leprosy patient. It’s so interesting to observe health problems that are almost nonexistent in the states anymore.
The hospital was a mad house, lacking any sense of order. As I walked into the phlebotomy lab I was trampled by eager patients that had in all probability waited hours to simply get their blood drawn. There was no order, there was no privacy. Families congregated on the floor in hallways pulling out their “tiffins” (metal Tupperware to store food) and having their meal. During orientation we were informed how public hospitals ran, but I had not expected this.

I had the privilege or the sorrow (it’s difficult to decide which one) to be given a tour of the ward where pre and post pregnancy women stayed. I even went into the surgical unit where the mothers give birth. As I entered I noticed all the doctors chatting on one side, while a woman who had just given birth, was sitting in pain on the opposite side. To my surprise I was allowed in without any sort of sanitization process. Next we went to a specific ward in search for a woman the outreach worker had been working with. This woman just gave birth to twins two days ago, and both children died within a day. The patient and husband were both HIV positive; however their families had no clue. There is no way to know if the children expired due to their mother being HIV positive or not. The ward she was staying in was appalling. Fifteen women smashed into an incredibly small room; some of the women’s cots were tattered up and placed on the floor. While I was attempting to talk to the woman (language gap) I was horrified when I saw at least 10 bugs crawling around the walls. No other unit was this unsanitary and disorganized, why this ward? Later I listed as the husband of the woman cried to the outreach worker for an hour and a half. He complained how the doctors hardly even touched his wife during birth and treated her horribly because she is HIV positive. The stigma obviously continues in Hyderabad. The outreach worker explained to me how she literally has to kiss ass to the doctors for them to even take the patients, however convincing the doctors to treat the HIV positive women like human beings is a novelty that isn’t available at the moment.

I met another girl of 22, who during her second pregnancy found out she was HIV positive. Her husband gave her HIV…then after finding out she was positive, left her at her parent’s house and then left her life. The outreach worker kept on instructing me to hold her hand as we continued down the hospital halls. I confused as to why until she explained to me that the parents and in-laws are not accepting this young girl anymore, and hardly speak to her. It seems the only reason they accompanied her to the hospital is over concern for the unborn child. She asked me to hold this girl’s hand to demonstrate to the family that I did not fear or reject her because of her status.

Finally we continued on to do work within the community. We arrived at an incredibly small house (after an expanded tour of the city by bus) where an expectant HIV positive mother lives. She is going to give birth any day now and is denying the fact that she and her husband are HIV positive. Her being aware and accepting of her status is important for the unborn child, because there are forms of prevention for the baby to contract HIV. The husband and wife were unbending in their belief that they are not positive because they are normally healthy. The outreach worker persisted for an hour and a half, even after being screamed at by the girl’s mother. The mother even accused the outreach worker of having the ulterior motive of interested in the husband. Basically there was no way around it and we were forced to leave, unsuccessfully.

Overall a sad, overwhelming, but motivating day. Plenty of work has been done in this field, however there is so much more to be done.

Kids Kids Kids!!

Today I was reminded of the long forgotten feeling of childhood. I had the grand opportunity of spending majority of my Sunday with children. First, we volunteered at an orphanage during their play time. Second, the “house boy” Mark, at the guest house I am staying at, invited me to play games with the children out on the street.
As I approached the children their eyes became bright and excited. All of them running around calling me “didi” (sister), dragging me to come play with them. I have never seen children so inclusive before, constantly reminding each other in Hindi to include me in the game (even though I had no clue how to play).
Just a bit of the culture I was looking for while I was in India. All the kids called me “didi” and Mark “Mark Bhaiya” (Mark brother). One of the girls, just a few years younger than me had just recently gotten engaged and now everyone called her Bhabhi (Sister in-law). They are just names, or titles as some will call it, but referring to me as “didi” automatically included me into their little family of games and ignored the fact that I was a perfect stranger. To go off on a bit of a tangent here I am reading a book about the India-Pakistan Partition by one of the women who came to speak to us at orientation. Her name is Urvashi Butalia and her book is named “The Other Side of Silence: Voices from the Partition”. In this book there is a paragraph that makes me think of this same thing. An uncle and niece are united for the first time ever in their lives as the niece was born the partition. This is their first conversation over the phone when the uncle finds out the niece has made the dangerous trip to Pakistan to meet him. The niece’s friend answers the phone first:
“‘I believe my daughter is staying with you. Please call my daughter; I would like to speak to her.’ (The niece gets on the phone) ‘Beti, what are you doing there? This is your home. You must come home at once and you must stay here. Give me your address and I’ll come and pick you up’. No preamble, no greeting, just a direct, no nonsense picking up of family ties. I was both touched and taken aback.”
My friend and I were having a discussion about what India culture really is; I believe this is some of it. I cherish this.
I digress.
As I was saying, these kids were just overwhelming me with childhood memories. They were playing in the middle of the street without any care in the world. Kids were running around me fearlessly climbing up high walls and jumping in piles of construction sand and bricks. They competitively played barefoot, to improve their game, without the slightest concern of falling on their faces or getting cut from the bricks. Hand clapping games and singing songs kept them consumed for hours. I had forgotten that part of childhood, and enjoyed being able to watch and even feel like a kid again.