Just got back to my guest house in Khulna after 11 hours visiting 7 different Dalit villages riding on the back of a friend's motorcycle. Visited most of the 20 girls in our Girls Leadership Program; that's what I think I'm going to call it rather than a sponsorship program since I want it to help develop girls in poverty in many ways to equip them to serve as well-equipped citizens in their communities.
An exhausting, exciting day. So fun to see the girls with their new books and school supplies, huddled together with friends in their makeshift schoolrooms, doing their homework and just being kids. The last three girls we visited were sitting together doing their homework under a single, bare lightbulb, the only one that I could see in the village area. Really fun to see. They were all proud to show me their new books, read a bit to me in English, and laugh at my feeble attempts to read even the most basic Bangla. I reminded all the girls of the three things I've told them to remember: put in honest hard work at school, be courageous in doing difficult things, and know that an educated girl can do whatever she puts her mind to doing. That's my three-prong mantra to them - study hard, be fearless, and believe that you can do so much more than your culture tells you that you can achieve or be. So much fun.
Also some heartbreak in seeing a lot of other families who would like us to help their daughters - the 20 we are helping is not even the tip of the tip of the iceberg. One 10-year-old girl was just rescued two days ago by her father from a 22-year-old man who had kidnapped her because he wanted to marry her. I imagine that the unimaginable happened to her in the three days she was missing. The girl is traumatized and has dropped out of school; her parents are terrified that she will continue to be unsafe; and particularly so since the local police are notorious for taking bribes to let the accused go rather than prosecute justice. This week I will go to the local police/jail and remind them that a local and an international NGO are watching them, as well as a group of lawyers, and that we expect justice to be done. Hoping a bit of legal pressure will at least help on that front.
And so many moms bringing their daughters to me asking us to sponsor them. What do I say to them? I've told them all that I can say: that we want to help more but don't have the money right now; that I'm going to the USA next month and hoping to find money to vastly expand the program; that regardless of their faith - the Dalits are predominantly Hindu, but there are some Muslims and perhaps even Christians in the mix - they should pray that we can raise the money to help them; and that I will honestly do all I can to help. Another one of those days that I wish I were a billionaire, or we were five years down the road, or both. For about $25 a month we can help the poorest girls in Bangladesh stay on a path to a truly transformed life.
On the way back to Khulna, Uttam, my friend and partner in this project and trusted motorcycle guide, asked me how I was doing with the cold wind. I was riding on the back of a motorcycle dodging massive potholes and huge speedbumps and monstrous, speeding trucks with only one headlight; my surgically-destroyed right knee aching from the hours on the bike; awkwardly carrying a huge sack of vegetables donated to the Alingon Home by my new friends in Gonaly who generously gave out of their poverty; and racing back to play card games with 20 girls at the Alingon Home who were hungry for their uncle's attention and unlikely to be concerned that I was exhausted. A perfect recipe for a complaint.
But I was happy, and I told Uttam so, because the days I've spent visiting the Dalit villages have been a real joy to me. An endless, genuine warm welcome. Kids who quickly started calling me "friend" rather than a more formal title. Glowing eyes of fathers who are happy that their daughters are back in school. Small gifts of food and flowers given so generously by people who can barely afford them. A deep sense that doing what I can to help the poorest of the rural poor just feels right and good. All I could do while sitting there on the back of the motorcycle was smile and wonder where this adventure might lead. Today it's 20 girls and endless challenges and fun. Tomorrow, who knows...
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