Mewat Trip!

Our last day of the program, we finally went to the village of Mewat in Haryana. It's one of the most backwards areas of the north, with extremely poor "health indicators" (a term created by developed nations). High infant and maternal mortality rates, low female literacy rates and poor sanitation are all part of life in Mewat. Malnutrition. Multiple children. Tribalism.

The trip there was an experience in itself. The roads were terrible, with big potholes and lots of digressions and dead ends. We had a very difficult time finding our way. There was also a lot of construction going on. We saw big tractors moving dirt, and half-built temples along the way. We also saw a few rickshaws crammed with at least 12 people in each...Indians piled upon Indians. That would never happen in America...we're too big and tall to fit that many people (heck, half that many people) in a little rickshaw!

Once we finally arrived at the SPYM office in Mewat, we immediately left for our first site visit to the school that the NGO has built up. SPYM has taken government funding and formed a public-NGO partnership to establish 20 schools in the village. There are public and private schools nearby, but so many children (age 4-15) lack basic education and cannot enter those schools without first having basic reading and writing skills...which SPYM is trying to impart.

There ar etwo groups of children in the school we visited, which is conveniently located in a residential part of the village among simple adobe houses, dirt roads, and heaps of cow dung. The first group we met was younger children (age 4-11). They don't know their alphabets yet, but the hope is that they will learn here and then transfer to public school (government fees are nominal...5-6 rs).

The educator and SPYM officer told us how difficult starting this project was. Money is not the issue...SPYM services are free, and government fees are so low. Here in Mewat, families don't see the point of educating their kids. They should instead stay at home and look after the smaller children (even a 4 year old is usually an elder sibling in these baby factory families). They think school (even just a few hours of it) is a waste of time. What would they do if not in school, besides tending to their siblings? Play with friends in the dirt, do menial chores, etc. It took a lot of convincing to get parents to send their kids to school. There were about 30 little ones in the "classroom" (an outdoor hallway with all the rugged kids sitting in rows on tattered pieces of cloth). SPYM has ben doing outreach for 15 years in Mewat, and I got the sense that a lot of knocking on doors, rapport building, and gaining trust had to be done for these children to be sitting there ready to learn. Shalini (CFHI program coordinator and SPYM health worker) encouraged us to play a game with the little ones, so we sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (we even got an encore request) and also played a version of Simon Says that we dubbed "Didi Bolo" (Sister Says). It was fun...kinda like being in kindergarten again.

After saying goodbye to the younger batch, who went home (a 1-minute walk at most) for lunch, we moved on to the second classrom, which was basically the floor space behind the first class. Here, another 20 or so older girls were huddled together (age 11-15). All had their hair covered by their dupattas, indicating that they are Muslims (the younger kids were a mixed group). Mewat is primarily Hindu tribes; Muslims are in the minority (it's that way in the vast majority of India). We were told that it was even harder to convince these girls' families to let their kids come to school for a few hours each day, because they are Islamic. Girls from these families are expected to marry soon, so why waste an education on them? SPYM convinced families of the usefulness of schooling by setting classes up as "cutting and sewing" instruction. Muslim families in Mewat were much more responsive to their girls' learning a marketable skill than the alphabet. However, on the side of cutting and sewing, SPYM teachers ensure that literacy instruction is given to the girls. It was shocking for me to see (of course, intellectually, I already knew from MPH classes) the effects of Muslim traditionalism on women's and family health. How could these women progress if their only expectation in life is to bear (male) children, cook food, serve chai, do farm work and iron clothes? How can they educate their kids if, from the time they are young, they are not even allowed to leave the house?

After the customary intro session of singing (you won't believe it, but I sang "Lean on Me"...solo...upon request for an English song, and one of the Muslim students sang a Hindi song in response), we got to interact with these girls who were so eager and open.

The student who sang, a slim, fair girl wearing a simple salwar and a white eyelet dupatta over her head, broke the ice by asking us what we thought of them. I was taken aback by the question...how to answer? There are so many first impressions. Lovely. Dirty. Ignorant. Bright.

What we DID say was that what they were doing in school is very important, and that it's a very good thing. Just think what they could have done if they'd had proper education earlier on? This is a big step forward they've taken in life, and they should be congratulated. Acchi baat hai (It's a good thing). They seemed to like this reaction, and it was 100% true.

We asked them what THEY thought of US. They wanted to know why on earth we had troubled ourselves to come all the way there to see them. Where did we come from? What were our names? They were very surprised to learn I'm Hindustani (do I not look Indian????). We asked whether any of them would continue their education in official school after this course. Several wanted to, but expressed their desire, I thought, tentatively. They had to convince their parents to let them come this far (to cut and sew, not to read and write), and might not succeed in making it much further before their parents arranged their marriages and they moved into their in-laws' homes.

After a photo session with the whole group (minus the little ones, who had retired for the day), we left the girls and teachers, and moved on to the next part of our trip, to SPYM's income generation and microfinance projects. First, we met with some younger girls (about 10 years old on average) who were practicing their embroidering skills. Their designs were actually beautiful, and the future plan is to have companies deliver plain salwar suits and other items so that these kids can embroider them for rs 40-50 ($1 US) each day. The goal is to get more money into the hands of women and girls--female empowerment en route to community health and well-being. These girls were bright and friendly, less quiet and mor eopen than the Muslim girls at the school (these girls were mixed, mostly Hindi and a few Muslims). They asked our names (and remembered them!) and told us theirs. They even taught us how to embroider!

Next, after a spicy cup of chai, we met with the microfinance group members. All are daughter-in-laws living in the village of Mewat. There are 17 members. In order to join, they must be daughter-in-laws, must own land (for collateral) and must have about 50 rs. per month to contribute to their joint bank account (they scrape this money together from household money given to them by their husbands). With all this money in the bank, they're able to take out loans to run small businesses for income generation.

It was interesting to talk to these women and see how they struggle to empower themselves. They initially had 20 members, but 3 dropped out because they didn't have faith in the project (and 50 rs. per month is a tall order in these parts of India). When they get the loan money, they give priority to the women who need it most, in a true co-op fashion. They give loans not just for business reasons but for household needs, too, such as dowry.

The microfinance ladies also chatted to us about the government's education and health care efforts. They expressed a lot of distrust in the public sector. They complained about government hospitals and schools; the MBBS's (MD's) in government hospitals are not trustworthy because there's so much corruption these days you can pay for an MBBS certificate, they said. Government schools are so bad the kids just play cricket the whole day. The women prefer taking their health care from private doctors ,whether their credentials are rael or not. One woman told us that if the treatments given by private practitioners work, and those given by MBBS's from big hospitals do not, she will choose the private "professional" as her usual source of care.

I can't help thinking of all the times in India we hear about or meet HIV cases where "quack" doctors and private clinics were involved in transmitting the disease (unscreened blood transfusions, re-used needles).

Shalini also told us something quite interesting: people here (and in fact, everywhere) mistrust anything that's free, be it chocolate or education or health care. If the same thing is offered by one person free, and by another person for a fee, they will go to the seller to pay, because they are convinced that the seller's product must be of higher quality (simply because it's not free). How to get around that one?? But the mistrust of government services is not only because they are largely free. Shalini said that despite these villagers' illogical mistrust of free services, government schools and hospitals do indeed provide low-quality care in many cases. It is never simple.

So...that was our day, in a nutshell. It was one of my favorite, if not my most favorite, CFHI India experiences. Even the part where I publicly humiliated myself by singing (but it was so graciously received and fervently translated by the illustrious Shalini). Meeting the Muslim girls made me think a lot about myself and my own beliefs. I'm Muslim too, yet the culture and treatment of women these Mewat Muslims subsribe to is alien to me. The positive thing is that SPYM is working to change things and is finding willing, wanting students.

Saturday, Sej and I said goodbye to the rest of the CFHI crew (who we miss dearly!) and spent the day arranging our trip to Dehra Dun (where we are now, after taking the 12 AM train). We also hung out with my aunt, Chandrika Atta (my dad's cousin-sister), in her beautiful new flat in Delhi. She cooked us homemade dosas (crepes) with ginger chutney, aloo paranthas with dahi (potato pancakes w/ yogurt), and upma (ummm....cream of rice curry?)...we ate all day long. No more plain tortillas and lentil soup for these girls (not that that was bad at all).

Now we're enjoying Dehra Dun, aka the gateway to the Himalayas. There's a coffee shop across the street from where we're staying, we have all this free time, and we get to see the gorgeous Himalayas every day...thank God!

Oh, and I got off the waitlist and into UC Irvine for medical school. I found out a couple days ago and still can't believe it's true. I was all set to apply a 3rd time (now I have to say goodbye to $700 on a wasted AMCAS application, ugh) but God brought this news. Okay!