I'm not even sure how to start writing about day 2. It was intense and long and emotional and loud and bustling and full of contrasts. It was India in a nutshell.
We started the day being picked up in a van by Robyn and Abhishek. Up until now we've only traveled to and from our guest house, Catalyst and church - all within about 15 minutes of each other and all in a fairly quiet, residential area of Delhi southeast of the airport. But today we hit the "real" Delhi sights, sounds and traffic. It is chaotic. It is loud. It is dangerous. The lane lines are a suggestion. Horns are used constantly. Distances between vehicles are minuscule. The roads are shared by bicycles loaded down with goods, auto rickshaws made to carry 2 people but are stuffed with 6-8 people, trucks, motorcycles, cars, buses, dogs and cows. Yes, cows, but that's another story. Even for this seasoned traveler it was impressive.
Our first destination today, which was designed to be a day of contrasts in the economic diversity of India, was GB Road. I hope you're not familiar with that term because it is the street of ill-repute that rules over Delhi's sex-trafficking business. The very busy, very congested street is lined with buildings about 4-5 stories high which, we were told, are linked internally like rat mazes. On the first floor of the buildings are legitimate businesses which are open during the day, but above, up the dark, narrow staircases, are the government sanctioned brothels. Yes, prostitution is legal in India, but for documented adults, not for the trafficked minors. Trafficking is mainly Indian girls, but they are also
brought from Nepal and other countries. These girls are more highly prized because of their light skin. The train station is located directly behind GB Road so it is easy to smuggle them directly into
the brothels and out of sight forever. This street was a dark and evil place that is beyond explanation or imagination.
From GB Road, we drove through another part of Delhi which was full of financial buildings and corporations and then from there to meet with one of the Diversion House's current residents, I will call her V to protect her privacy, and meet her family in their home.
We descended from our bus along side a busy road and then crossed over to walk into the slum which was her home. We were temporarily stopped because the train tracks we had to cross were blocked by a train. As we waited to cross with a growing group of people, we were acutely aware that we were attracting a lot of attention. It was probably quite unusual for a group of white women to be waiting
to cross the tracks. Eventually the trains moved and we all crossed safely.
The sights and sounds and smells of India are all so intense and numerous that it's really hard to accurately describe them. I cannot tell you everything because there's too much to tell. How can I explain the trash pile with cows grazing in it? The stray dogs asleep (or dead) in the middle of the walk way? The putrid stream of "water" we crossed on two narrow boards? The stench of excrement as we walked toward her house? The house smaller than my bathroom in which lived 5 people - her mother, two brothers, a sister and her child. And yet it is not all despair, there is also beauty mixed in. The beautiful colors of the women's sari's. The beautiful tidiness of the tiny home with everything they truly needed, and some things not needed, tucked into their proper places. The beauty of the love showered out onto V by her mother and sister, a love strong enough that they are willing to send V to another part of the city and not see her so that V can pull herself out of this poverty. The beauty of the hospitality offered to a group of strangers feeding us Coke, cookies and spicy Cheetos. If we step outside our Western idea of beauty then there was lots of beauty to be found.
From V's home we crossed back over the tracks and back onto the bus to go for lunch at one of the
"graduates" from the Catalyst program, I will call her K. K had gone through the levels of the
Catalyst program which begins with the Diversion House for girls around the age of 12 or 13. When the Diversion girls turn 18, they move to the Horizon House, which is a little less structured yet still a support for the girls while they finish their education. After Horizon House, the girls are moved into the "real world" in small groups called cohorts. A cohort would live together in an apartment while they work and establish their lives. K had lived in a cohort and then gotten married and now has a baby. Her husband was helped by another program that Catalyst developed which gave young street boys a place to sleep at night. K and her husband welcomed us into their apartment which consisted of two rooms, a kitchen and bathroom and also gave us a glimpse of what a lower middle class Indian lives like. We enjoyed a fantastic lunch that K made while sitting on their bed - this was an uncomfortable thing for most of us because in America our beds are very personal, but in India it seems to be more a functional piece of furniture.
After lunch, we were then taken to, of all places, a shopping mall. Again, this day was to show us the contrasts and economic diversity of India. The mall was a super familiar setting to us all, yet after the day we had experienced created a super different reaction in us. We were repulsed, embarrassed and even angry. We just wanted to leave, which we requested. So we left shortly after we arrived and headed back to our guest house. One note on the shopping mall, it wasn't exactly like the ones in the USA, you enter the mall through a metal detector, have guards outside carrying rifles, and I even saw people being patted down as they were leaving a store.
After resting briefly at the house, we were again picked up and taken to the Catalyst house. One of their new endeavors is to work with ladies from villages in central India. These ladies were all Christians who were being actively persecuted for their faith. Catalyst brought them to Delhi for 15 days to teach them to make jewelry which will be sold online. The money made will help support their families. We were able to see their beautiful creations and give feedback on what American women would like and maybe pay for the necklaces.
One lady bravely spoke for the group and told us their story of how the other villagers withheld water and food from the Christians of the village and shun them from normal village life. Through the grace of God, the police and other officials interceded and actually punished the villagers so that the Christians could survive. Her story also told of the emotional persecution they endure since she was not allowed by her family or villagers to even see her father after he died or attend his funeral because she is Christian. This was a powerful moment in the trip to meet women who were deep in their faith in the midst of real persecution.
Finally, we were invited to Abhishek and Angie's house for a home cooked meal and a chance to talk about some of what we had seen this day. It was an overwhelming and exhausting day, but one I am honored to have lived.
We started the day being picked up in a van by Robyn and Abhishek. Up until now we've only traveled to and from our guest house, Catalyst and church - all within about 15 minutes of each other and all in a fairly quiet, residential area of Delhi southeast of the airport. But today we hit the "real" Delhi sights, sounds and traffic. It is chaotic. It is loud. It is dangerous. The lane lines are a suggestion. Horns are used constantly. Distances between vehicles are minuscule. The roads are shared by bicycles loaded down with goods, auto rickshaws made to carry 2 people but are stuffed with 6-8 people, trucks, motorcycles, cars, buses, dogs and cows. Yes, cows, but that's another story. Even for this seasoned traveler it was impressive.
Our first destination today, which was designed to be a day of contrasts in the economic diversity of India, was GB Road. I hope you're not familiar with that term because it is the street of ill-repute that rules over Delhi's sex-trafficking business. The very busy, very congested street is lined with buildings about 4-5 stories high which, we were told, are linked internally like rat mazes. On the first floor of the buildings are legitimate businesses which are open during the day, but above, up the dark, narrow staircases, are the government sanctioned brothels. Yes, prostitution is legal in India, but for documented adults, not for the trafficked minors. Trafficking is mainly Indian girls, but they are also
brought from Nepal and other countries. These girls are more highly prized because of their light skin. The train station is located directly behind GB Road so it is easy to smuggle them directly into
the brothels and out of sight forever. This street was a dark and evil place that is beyond explanation or imagination.
From GB Road, we drove through another part of Delhi which was full of financial buildings and corporations and then from there to meet with one of the Diversion House's current residents, I will call her V to protect her privacy, and meet her family in their home.
We descended from our bus along side a busy road and then crossed over to walk into the slum which was her home. We were temporarily stopped because the train tracks we had to cross were blocked by a train. As we waited to cross with a growing group of people, we were acutely aware that we were attracting a lot of attention. It was probably quite unusual for a group of white women to be waiting
to cross the tracks. Eventually the trains moved and we all crossed safely.
 |
| Trying to cross the train tracks |
The sights and sounds and smells of India are all so intense and numerous that it's really hard to accurately describe them. I cannot tell you everything because there's too much to tell. How can I explain the trash pile with cows grazing in it? The stray dogs asleep (or dead) in the middle of the walk way? The putrid stream of "water" we crossed on two narrow boards? The stench of excrement as we walked toward her house? The house smaller than my bathroom in which lived 5 people - her mother, two brothers, a sister and her child. And yet it is not all despair, there is also beauty mixed in. The beautiful colors of the women's sari's. The beautiful tidiness of the tiny home with everything they truly needed, and some things not needed, tucked into their proper places. The beauty of the love showered out onto V by her mother and sister, a love strong enough that they are willing to send V to another part of the city and not see her so that V can pull herself out of this poverty. The beauty of the hospitality offered to a group of strangers feeding us Coke, cookies and spicy Cheetos. If we step outside our Western idea of beauty then there was lots of beauty to be found.
 |
| Entering V's home |
 |
| The inside of her home. I'm standing against a wall. |
 |
| V and her family |
 |
| Cows grazing in garbage |
 |
| Crossing back over the tracks |
From V's home we crossed back over the tracks and back onto the bus to go for lunch at one of the
"graduates" from the Catalyst program, I will call her K. K had gone through the levels of the
Catalyst program which begins with the Diversion House for girls around the age of 12 or 13. When the Diversion girls turn 18, they move to the Horizon House, which is a little less structured yet still a support for the girls while they finish their education. After Horizon House, the girls are moved into the "real world" in small groups called cohorts. A cohort would live together in an apartment while they work and establish their lives. K had lived in a cohort and then gotten married and now has a baby. Her husband was helped by another program that Catalyst developed which gave young street boys a place to sleep at night. K and her husband welcomed us into their apartment which consisted of two rooms, a kitchen and bathroom and also gave us a glimpse of what a lower middle class Indian lives like. We enjoyed a fantastic lunch that K made while sitting on their bed - this was an uncomfortable thing for most of us because in America our beds are very personal, but in India it seems to be more a functional piece of furniture.
 |
| Chicken curry, dahl and roti for lunch |
 |
| View from the roof |
 |
| K and Beth |
After lunch, we were then taken to, of all places, a shopping mall. Again, this day was to show us the contrasts and economic diversity of India. The mall was a super familiar setting to us all, yet after the day we had experienced created a super different reaction in us. We were repulsed, embarrassed and even angry. We just wanted to leave, which we requested. So we left shortly after we arrived and headed back to our guest house. One note on the shopping mall, it wasn't exactly like the ones in the USA, you enter the mall through a metal detector, have guards outside carrying rifles, and I even saw people being patted down as they were leaving a store.
After resting briefly at the house, we were again picked up and taken to the Catalyst house. One of their new endeavors is to work with ladies from villages in central India. These ladies were all Christians who were being actively persecuted for their faith. Catalyst brought them to Delhi for 15 days to teach them to make jewelry which will be sold online. The money made will help support their families. We were able to see their beautiful creations and give feedback on what American women would like and maybe pay for the necklaces.
One lady bravely spoke for the group and told us their story of how the other villagers withheld water and food from the Christians of the village and shun them from normal village life. Through the grace of God, the police and other officials interceded and actually punished the villagers so that the Christians could survive. Her story also told of the emotional persecution they endure since she was not allowed by her family or villagers to even see her father after he died or attend his funeral because she is Christian. This was a powerful moment in the trip to meet women who were deep in their faith in the midst of real persecution.
Finally, we were invited to Abhishek and Angie's house for a home cooked meal and a chance to talk about some of what we had seen this day. It was an overwhelming and exhausting day, but one I am honored to have lived.
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