Soccer Balls, Block Prints and Red Lights

February 22, 2013

Soccer Balls, Block Prints and Red Lights

We began today with a long bus ride to Sanlaap (Bengali for dialogue) visiting the complex where we are funding the construction of two buildings.  Girls rescued from the trade are housed here for anywhere between 2 days and 5 years.  They are given 3-months of intensive care whether it be legal, medical or emotional upon their initial arrival.  The highlights for me were playing with new soccer balls that one of our Seva sisters hauled from the States, seeing the construction of a building we are funding and making a batik block print scarf.  The girl that was teaching me was encouraging, giving me a big thumbs up when I did it right and pointing to her head indicating how "clever" I was.

And today was also the day we went through one of the Red Light districts of Kolkata called Bowbazar.  Initially I wasn't quite certain as to what we were going to actually be doing but came to learn that we were to visit a child drop in center for the kids of prostitutes in that area.  We were told to leave our cameras in the van, so I have to rely on my own inner lens to recall the scene.

Kolkata is much greener than New Delhi and without the number of high rise buildings, so it has a sense of being more open.  That is until you begin to weave your way through the older, narrow streets of the red light district.  With narrow lane ways, the buildings appear taller and cast a darker hue over the streets.  As we began our walk, I noticed small stalls with various foot or hand powered machines, people going about their business, mostly men and with a parade of 13 white people they began to pay us more attention than we'd probably prefer.  You could feel a sense of anxiety within the group, coming face to face with the place and people implicitly involved in the exploitation of women.  

And then we came across our first brothel where the women were standing outside of a narrow doorway, watching the parade of foreigners.  I turned to my buddy and said, "is this a brothel?" to which she quietly nodded "yes".  Then she said, "I feel like I want to throw up".  We kept walking and thankfully she kept it together.  We then turned down an even narrower path which led us to the drop-in center, a cramped space with about 17 young boys, 4 young girls and their handful of teachers.  Add 13 of us into a space approximately 10 x 30 ft and you get the picture of the spatial intensity of our situation.  The kids were mostly head down, drawing madly, with a few peeking up to see who was stepping through the curtain doorway.

In we piled, shoes off, squatting tightly together.  The kids then began introducing themselves to us, saying something like "My name is Ganesh.  I am in year seven".  We were then treated to dancing by three of the four girls, a skit by two of the boys, more dancing by the boys and then more dancing with three of the people from our group joining in.  Despite the room becoming hot and stuffy, we clapped along, laughed at their antics and got a glimpse into how these highly at risk kids have an opportunity to learn and play, in a safe and caring environment.

The interesting experience for me was on our walk out of the district.  I was looking around, so incredibly curious as to the place and people.  I noticed the old buildings, the waxing Gibbous moon in the indigo sky and my feeling of wanting to find out more.  It wasn't as bad as I had anticipated.  In fact, I thought some aspects were beautiful which I by no means want to diminish the hideous nature of the underbelly business and trade happening within its midst.

It hit me that having seen a few different red light districts in my travels, in Amsterdam, Bangkok, Sydney and now Kolkata that I wondered how many other areas I've been in and simply missed it by being distracted by the old beauty and the everydayness of the place.  How many times have I walked straight past the suffering of someone and been too self-involved or naive to believe it could be anything else than a wonderful scene?

This experience is intense.  Our group has been experiencing a multitude of emotions and reactions.  I feel honored to be bearing witness to suffering in the company of people who want to make a difference.  And we are making a difference.  We've chosen to step into the discomfort, to look into the eyes of others seeking a better life and are doing what we know to invite a shift.

Perhaps the biggest shift will happen within each of us and that's ok.  I know that hope exists and I would rather be an active participant than someone who turns a blind eye.