Andrew Forde's final farewell from Delhi
Monday 5 December

Andrew Forde

The extent to how the weeks and months in India have affected me is unquantifiable. I can only hope that everyone can relate to or at least appreciate the significance of some of what I have said in my past few reports.

This unfortunately is the report of my final few weeks in the wonderful world of my SUAS Volunteer Programme in Delhi, India 2005.

All those moons ago, when I wrote last, I had been through some fascinating adventures and an emotional journey I would have found it hard to imagine could be topped… but the final hurdles of my placement in India brought me through some of the best and worst experiences of my life.

Tuesday 2 August 2005, myself and Sarah brought a group of about 15 children from the class on a school tour to a number of educational and fun locations around Delhi. Manju contacted a driver to pick up the children close to the school and squeeze us all into a monstrosity of a jeep to get around the city. The children turned up in their "Sunday best"; the girls wore pretty dresses, some of the boys wore shirts and ties; all of them had put phenomenal effort into how they looked for their day; their only day out of Budh Bazaar for a very long time (ever!?). First stop was the Science Museum where the children got the chance to experience life size exhibits of every aspect of science, geared especially towards children. For a few extra rupees we decided to treat the kids and bring them into a 3-D film. This was fantastic; not only was it the first time the children had been into a cinema, but they were also experiencing the 3-D effect; needless to say there were a lot of very excited kids at that showing. It was incredible to see the smiles on their faces, they were so happy; it was all so wonderfully new and enjoyable for them. From there we took them to National Natural History Museum and the National Doll Museum, before bringing them to the highlight of the day…the Children’s Park.

The Children's Park is based in the centre of Delhi located in the same grounds as the India Gate monument (A war memorial built to commemorate the soldiers who died in World War I.) We let the kids run free here for a few hours playing on the swings, slides, merry-go-rounds, etc. Having spent 3 months with the kids, this was the first time we had witnessed them playing games outdoors, running around in an open space, and having the type of fun that we would assume the majority of Irish (and all Developed countries) children take for granted. This is what those children needed. They needed time to be children - to play, to smile and laugh, to chase each other around the park, and to have fun. After they had worn themselves out we had brought supplies for a monster picnic in the park. The only problem was that the children were very reluctant to eat the food, sweets, crisps etc we had bought for them. Instead, they would put the rations into their pocket and bring it home with them. I am still not quite sure whether it is something as simple and subtle as that they just don't eat for the sake of it and would like to save it for later; or possibly is an innate action to share it among the family when they get home because they may not have very much other food to eat. The latter is certainly the more realistic conclusion for some of the children we taught. We bought them all ice creams to mark the end of a wonderful day for all involved.

The following week we were teaching in class as normal, when walked in one of the children. He was barely dressed, no trousers on, just a shirt half hanging from his shoulder and he had an agonising look on his face. The poor child was clearly in a lot of pain. When he came up to shake mine and Sarah's hand and say 'Good morning Bhia/Didi' I tried to find out from him if there was anything wrong. At that stage we clearly noticed his body was badly scarred and cut. He was suffering from some kind of skin infection which had spread to most parts of his body leaving gaping sores uncovered and welcoming further infection. He put on the brave face and sat in the corner trying to not have us be concerned about him. Of course we both couldn't stop thinking about him and wondering what was wrong, what could we do and was he ok. A few minutes later as I looked down to him his head had fallen between his two knees, his shirt was now completely off one arm and he was beginning to sob deeply. I went over to him to examine him a little further, consciously thinking that it was time this child saw a doctor. Yes, maybe it is a road that should not be taken by a volunteer to bring a child to a doctor personally, but in this instance to help a child in pain is clearly going to outweigh my obligation to act 'by the book'. I asked one of the older children to escort me and Devindar to the local Doctor whose surgery is located not terribly far from the centre(school). The surgery as it happens was no more than a desk with a few jars of pain killers, penicillin and a needle and syringe; + rickety bench, with a man who had possibly done a first aid course at some stage sitting behind it. As appalling as the medical services are for the local people, at least there is some option for them; a placebo is better than nothing at all, isn't it?! After the examination the child was given an antibiotic shot and a couple of tablets which I paid for since it came to approximately 50 rupees(1 euro in total), a weeks wages for many. Thankfully he was fighting fit again after a week or so.

The last two weeks of placement brought with it some very demanding and difficult situations for us, and on a personal level I became very ill making everything all the more hard to handle. One day, while Sarah was meeting her parents, who happened to be on business in India that week, I was correcting some of the children's copy's when I noticed Mookesh(6 year old boy) sitting on the floor beside me keeping very quite. Completely out of character for him, because generally he is hyper. I thought nothing of it since he was sitting down quiet, and not bothering anyone, until once again I heard sobs. I took him onto my lap to try find out what was wrong but he wouldn't look me in the eye. He began crying loudly in my arms. Chanki (older boy) came to me and said, "Bhia….sad…..you….going Ireland". Mookesh was so upset because we would be leaving for Ireland at some stage, and he clearly wanted us to stay. This was one of the saddest moments of the summer, and I will never forget it. Thankfully, it wasn't to be a sad ending to an unforgettable summer. The following week we had our Sports day and Creation days planned for the children of numerous different centres where all of us volunteers were working. The sports day was held in a dusty abandoned field in an industrial area near our accommodation. All of the volunteers went to their respective centers to pick up the children and load 10 or more of them into autorickshaws to get them there on time that morning. That was an adventure in itself no doubt. During the day we had everything from football, to wheelbarrow races, to world record breaking hokey pokey. Our team really pulled together for the day, and showed how the natural team dynamic had developed and evolved over the 10 weeks. We were like a well oiled machine getting everything organised. At the end of the day trophies were given to the winning teams; but every child got a prize in any case. They were delighted.

The following day we held our Creation day, which from all angles, was the best day of my life. We had over a 100 children in one of the larger centres. We had things like mask making, kite decorating, art, a mural (every child got the chance to paint a piece!), dancing all held in outdoor marquee with a stage and PA system . The day was a phenomenal success, and the children were glowing with happiness and excitement by it. A large group of passers by had to be held back at the gate from coming in to join the festivities because nothing of this sort had ever been seen in this area before.

Following up from that I ended up on a steep downward spiral health wise. I was struck down with bacterial dysentery, which was equally as horrible as it sounds. I got so bad I just had to get to hospital. I was admitted and put on IV's and numerous drugs to fight the badness. It really knocked a lot out of me, and it has taken weeks to get over. Even when I arrived back to Ireland a few weeks ago I wasn't over it (I lost approx 2 stone weight). A few others in the group contracted typhoid, and another unknown tropical disease. It was a particularly bad year for that kind of thing with the monsoon rains contaminating drinking water.

The end was neigh at that stage in any case, and it was time to say my goodbyes; to the group of volunteers, to my wonderful teaching partner, to Manju, and the most heartbreaking was saying goodbye to the children. Our last day however made the goodbye's less of sad time and more of a celebration of all the fantastic progress we had made together. We spoiled the kids with a party; I brought in my laptop and showed them photographs and videos I had taken of all of them throughout the summer which they got tremendous enjoyment out of. Leaving brought tears of course. One of the older boys stood up in front of the class and said, in his best English, that "We sad you go Ireland. We miss you. Thank you for everything." Until that moment, it would have been hard for any volunteer to concretely realise the impact we had on the class, but it was clear after he said that, and after the reactions of the children, that we had been a positive influence on the childrens' lives. Many of them had tears flowing over their smiling faces. It is so hard to describe the sight of a child so happy that we had come into their lives, but so sad that we had to leave again. Seeing the appreciation on the children's faces and in the way they hugged us before we left, made everything worthwhile for me. It was the epitome of unconditional gratitude on the part of the children…something so real, so natural, so honest; something I'm not used to coming from our world in Ireland. Those children taught me more than they could ever imagine.

Before leaving India, I had one final mission, and that was to see Calcutta. I flew over and met with Suzie and the rest of the SUAS Volunteers who had been working with various N.G.O.'s in the Calcutta area. We headed north to Darjeeling high in the Himalaya Mountains. The home of some of the best tea in the world, this place was a peaceful paradise having come from the madness of Delhi and Calcutta. We spent a few days taking in the amazing scenery and attempting to see Mt. Everest through the clouds, unsuccessfully.

I flew back to Ireland about a month ago at this stage, and the following day started my studies in N.U.I.G. As I am studying for an LL.M in International Human Rights Law, I am hoping to now specialize in the area of children's rights; my interest clearly coming from my exposure to the hardship endured by millions of Indian children (and millions more worldwide). I will be hoping to get back to India this coming summer if I can successfully secure an internship working in the area of Children's Rights.

This summer has been the most shocking, educating, emotional, eye-opening experience of my entire life. I do it no justice to try to put into words how this has changed my perspective on so many things. Often we rely too much on books and lectures to teach us things; I would advise any person regardless of obstacles, to do everything in their power to find their place on a programme like this; it could be the most valuable experience of your life. Also I would urge everyone to consider it as part of the President's Gold Award which is open to all young people between the ages of 15-25.

Once again, thank you all so very much for your email's of support. Thank you to DCU Public Affairs and Media Relations Office for allowing me to pass on my experiences to the wider DCU community, and if any of you have any questions or comments please feel free to email me at any stage. andrewforde@gmail.com or visit the SUAS website on www.suas.ie

"Mujhe tum bahut yaad aate ho" - I will never forget them..

Andrew Forde.
Ocotber 2005.