How tough is it to see and, yet not perceive?”
Beside the usual chaos up there, these are precisely the two questions that have been lingering in my mind since my last visit to Ramavaram - 7th of August’08.
It was supposed to be a simple visit, to an underprivileged community, 10 minutes away from our college (by bus). So the visit was to include: talking (in a language I don’t know), demonstrating hygiene practices (and secretly resolve to follow them myself), playing with the kids (yes all the people in my head were excited too), and handing out a healthy snack (we called it a banana).
What happened instead was this:
Once we got off at the bus stand, I was intently listening (yes I was) to a briefing about Ramavaram. I was in no way prepared for lay ahead.
Which was, a huge bear hug! I’d like to call it a bear hug, because there were 5 kids for each one of, as if we were the hottest property of the ‘Lost and Found’.
The excitement around us, was a true Ramavaram special. For, I haven’t seen it anywhere.
We made our entry into their habitat in a human train…the engine being Bhavya. We passed by what I thought were 35 thatched huts (turns out there are 94 of them!)
We were led into their playing area, which altered between a tarred road -a freeway for speeding cars - and an even more low lying area.
So this even more low lying area - a vast expanse of greenery with stagnant black water from the Adayar river - is an even more special place.
It’s free of any inhibition, what with people washing an array of things over there, ranging from dirty clothes, to filthy bodies.
After a little deliberation and lot of frenzy, we decided that the area of activity would be near one of the huts.Once seated, we brought out our master demonstrators- Valli and Vandana. So the first lesson to be taught (and learned) was “Wash your hands after playing in the water/with the animals, and most importantly before you eat.”
Valli said a lot more, but the fascinating piece of oratory has to be heard in Tamil. Our audience watched in rapt attention as they were being taught how to use the soap in a more efficient way. Once that was done, we had our own little orientation session - quizzing them on our names and guessing their names as well. By now, each one of us had our favourite- not necessarily the one hanging off our shoulder. It’s as if Nature made a Giver of each one of them, their hands might be empty, but their hearts aren’t.
Lesson no.2 dropped in after a little singing session. So Pamela and Nazneen , armed with a brush and tooth powder, taught them how to fight tooth decay, everyday - twice a day. Most of the members of Sangam were as interested in the novelty of oral hygiene as the little inhabitants of Ramavaram! And… the incentive for being a good audience, was a snack-as much as they wanted. Though I’m sure one of the next visits will include lessons on “What is a queue? And How to form one without killing each other?”
We weren’t done yet. One by one, the parents came up with queries, grievance and, complaints. While most kids were distracted with a parallel photo session, some of us addressed their concerns. It was like watching a medicine textbook unfurl - a grave assortment of diseases.
There was one on the spot treatment too: a minor head wound was set right for Ritin’s bravest patient.
3 hours and a lot of chaos later, something had changed in each one of us. The trouble with being there, is the kids just won’t let you stop smiling: either with their songs,
or their witty retorts. We were back to were we started from, when I saw something… straight ahead stood a sparkling clean top notch hospital, and to my left was a swanky IT office.
And that brings me back to the my initial question:
How tough is it to see, and yet not perceive? That they live there with so many problems and such few resources, & just a helping hand would make a living difference?
