Coming out of Hibernation

I have been living in Mumbai now for just under 3 years. My first year was full of adjustments, assimilations and logistics. I am sure you can all appreciate the fulltime job that requires. Not to mention I was determined to continue my career as an international teacher. Well the teaching thing didn’t go according to plan due to being a local hire and visas so I went down the entrepreneurial route of private tutoring and volunteering at the school. I kept myself busy but by the end of year 2 I felt incredibly unfilled. Hibernation became the key to survival as days passed into months until finally summer arrived. 

Now many people come to Mumbai and immediately get involved helping local NGOs,  becoming immersed in activities to support the unfortunate, especially children, but somehow I missed that window. In the beginning, I think I was too overwhelmed getting myself and my family taken care of and then I really think that I became completely desensitized to the poverty and inhumanity that assaulted me daily. I’m not proud to admit this, but there it is. 

This year, however, by complete chance, I had the opportunity to meet Rosie Penryhn Jones at a Gloria Jean’s coffee shop in Powai. Through some casual chit chat she began telling me about an NGO she co-founded with Barbara Jayson which provided health, nutrition, education and sustainable skills training programs for mothers, children and community health workers in disadvantaged communities in Indonesia. She also explained that a member from the Indonesian branch, Leena Godiwala-Deubet  had brought the foundation to India. It is currently working to provide health and nutrition to children and mothers in  Mumbai in Ganesh Nagar, a slum community housing 390 families totalling almost 2000 people. Residents there live in cramped and unsanitary conditions.

Her passion and commitment to this cause made me pause to examine my own life in that moment.  Could I say I was as committed and passionate to something, anything in my life, besides my family? Sadly the answer was no. 

Rosie gave me her card and I went home that day and began reading up on the  website Foundation for Mother and Child Health www.motherandchildhealth.org. The organization, founded in 2001, has helped many families and children from Jakarta and West Timor and responded to the crisis in Sri Lanka and Aceh after the devastating tsunami in 2004, and the Sumatra earthquake in 2009. They have also provided skills training for refugees living in Azerbaijan where women from Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq and Chechnya all had the opportunity to learn new skills such as quilting, pattern making and computing and joined micro finance schemes enabling them to become self sufficient, and stand more chance of a successful life in a welcoming country.  

My interest was growing and I felt this stirring deep down telling me that this held more meaning for me then just simple appreciation. I met with Rosie a few weeks later to discuss how I could help and become involved. As she spoke about the modest beginnings of the organization and their accomplishments over the years, I felt myself not only wanting, but needing to be involved. This was a cause I too, felt very strongly about and now finally,  I had found an outlet for my energy. She showed me photos of her visit down the FMCH and shared with me some shocking statistics about India.

42% of children under 5 are malnourished.  Times of India, Jan 2012 / Hungama report

• For every 10 children under 3 born to illiterate mothers, 5 are underweight - too thin for their age. This is a sign of malnutrition
• For every 10 children under 3 born to illiterate mothers, 5 are stunted - too short for their age.  This is the sign of chronic malnutrition
• For every 10 children under 3 born to illiterate mothers, 2 are wasted i.e. too thin for height. Fat and muscle have been used up for energy.  This is a sign of acute malnutrition   and the child is at risk of dying from malnutrition or from any common clinical disease like diarrhea or respiratory illnesses
• For every 10 children born to illiterate mothers, 8 are anemic.  Anemia can lead to poor cognitive performance in school. 
• For every 10 children born, 3 are born underweight                                               
•   For every 10 children born, 5 children are fed only breast milk for first 6 months as recommended

With all of the media attention and Global markets focusing on India as an emerging market and “the next big thing” next to China, it still has the highest rate of malnutrition in the world with very little government intervention to resolve the issues. FMCH is clearly focused and driven to reduce these numbers and give these children, India’s future, a fighting chance.

Currently FMCH India tackles malnutrition “in innovative ways, every day”. It aims to increase knowledge on health and nutrition  issues amongst the community  through classes, medical consultations, home visits, vaccinations, counseling, family planning advice and cooking classes.  A dedicated team of professionals, both employed and volunteer, Indian and expatriate, provides these services, currently working with 533 families - and counting. Women from the community are trained to help. Children who have benefitted from their interventions in the past are notably more healthy and do very well at school. 

Local women making Nutri-bars at the Ganesh Nagar Clinic

 One of the unique contributions of FMCH’s dedication to fighting malnutrition comes in the form of a Nutri-bar. It is a recipe devised by expert nutritionists, and is used as a food supplement for children suffering from moderate to severe nutrition.   In a trial it was shown to improve children’s weight and growth rates, making them better able to fight infectious diseases.  Currently they provide a daily bar to 30 children and 20 mothers who are either pregnant or lactating, in addition to facilitating interactive ‘hands-on’ cooking demonstrations for young mothers in the community

Looking at the statistics and living daily in the chaos and poverty of Mumbai, I am a little overwhelmed by the sheer enormity of the task set before FMCH in their fight against  malnutrition but, and I say this with all that makes me a mother, woman and educator, I am even more inspired  to be part of a team so committed to the future of children that my desire and passion to help is infinite. 

If you  would like to know more about  The Foundation for Mother and Child Health in India or make a donation , please visit www.motherandchildhealth.org/india.html

FRRO, Hibernation and Lost Innocence

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So I’m back in Mumbai and back in the thick of it. And I literally mean thick of it. Leaving the wide open, blue skies of Ontario and walking out into the density of humidity and heat and people and noise, staring eyes and flooded streets is a little overwhelming. Yesterday I had coffee with a good friend of mine at the local coffee shop which is just a short walk from my apartment and we were discussing that we needed to re assimilate ourselves to the daily realities of India. It really is not as easy as just getting off the plane and re entering your normal life. It’s just so much more than that. It’s a little like entering the wardrobe into Narnia. It’s so different that you don’t know what to do or look at first.  Anyhow I told my friend that it will take a minimum of 5 days. I am on my 5^th day as I write this and I still may need a few more.

On day 1 of my return I needed to go out to the grocery store to restock my fridge with vegetables.  This  is  not as easy as it sounds. During the monsoon, vegetables are not quite up to par and in fact they are quite sub-sub-par. To put this in perspective I am coming back from the gleaming grocery stores of beautifully ripe, juicy and clean vegetables positioned in perfect rows and pyramids with a light mist of cool, clear water falling gently over them. Insert here a screeching halt sound with some breaking glass in the background.  I push my cart through at least 20 people in the tiny veg aisle of Haiko, the local grocery store. There are hardly any veg on the shelves and as I pick up a prepackaged bag of peas I see a number of bugs crawling around the pods. I quickly place it down and move on to the tomatoes. These too, are prepackaged and as I inspect them they are all beginning to rot with slimy goo lining the inside of the bag. I left the store that day with some apples and onions and raced home to hibernate inside the safety of my apartment. Day 1 over and done with.

Day 2- Hibernate

Day 3- A trip to the FRRO

As any foreigner in India knows the annual trip to the FRRO (Foreigner Regional Registration Offices) is never an easy one and if any place will put you back into hibernation this will.  Every year, every foreigner must register at these offices to be allowed to stay in the country. Our 2011 expiry date had come and gone and we needed to head down there as soon as possible after arriving back in India. The first challenge, as always, is the drive down. Because we live in an area called Powai, we are at least an hour away if not more and because it’s monsoon add at least another 45 minutes to that due to roads and highways filled with potholes and crumbling pavement caused  by heavy rains. What does this really mean you ask? It means it is impossible to get and drink a coffee to go for the long journey ahead.  On this particular day it took 2hrs and 5 min. When we arrive and step out of the van, we are immediately the most interesting site on the street for the hundreds or so standersby. We foreigners are always a good bit of entertainment for the locals who never turn away when you stare back. They just continue staring. Definitely need more than 5 days of adjustment  to get used to this. Once inside we have a representative who helps us with the process which is a great help  however he cannot follow us into the waiting room and we must continue the process on our own. As we wait inside with other foreigners from all over the world, a woman beside us begins talking to my daughter. My daughter is hesitant to respond because they are often the centre of attention and they have naturally learned to shy away from strangers. It’s like having paparazzi around you all of the time. You find the need to ignore and not encourage human contact. This woman introduced herself to Ariana and said she was from Nigeria. Ariana kind of shrugged and when the woman asked her her name, she turned away. I was busy filling in some forms online so I was only half listening until I heard Ariana say, “Sorry?” as if she didn’t hear something. I tuned in and heard the woman ask again, “ Do you not like blacks?” Of course Ariana had no idea what she meant and said ‘Sorry?’ again the woman asked , “ Do you not like blacks?” So of course in her innocence Ariana looked down at her outfit which consisted of black tights, black boots and a black top and said, “ I like black.”  I turned to this woman who looked directly at me and asked the same thing of me and I gave her a confused look and said,

“ Yes, we like blacks.”

A few more polite comments back and forth and our number was called to finish the FRRO process. As we left the building I reflected on the comments made by the Nigerian woman and was thinking of just how innocent my children are. They really have no understanding of the concept of racism. They have always lived in a world of international schools where their friends are from all around the world and where everyone is new and different and this in itself makes them all the same. Their differences make them more alike then their similarities. They are truly a generation of children who accept everyone because they don’t know that there is another option. Everyone is just equal.  I love that innocence.

Insert here a screeching halt sound with some breaking glass in the background.

The next day we were sitting in the mall on the 4^th floor having lunch waiting to go see the Smurf movie. All of a sudden a huge crash is heard and people run to the glass railing to look down to the floors below. Of course my children run, well roll actually, they are wearing their Heelys, to look along with the crowd. They came back disappointed that there was nothing to be seen but my younger daughter said, “ I thought it might have been some terrorists with some bombs like a few weeks ago.”

I guess they are not so innocent after all.

Happy Currency in London

Currently I am sitting in the London Lounge at Heathrow airport waiting for a connecting flight to Toronto. My journey home is half way completed and so far very average and uneventful. No screaming children, no lost passports and no delayed flights. Now the reason I felt compelled to blog right now is, well one, I’m bored and need to kill 5 hours but more importantly I am stuck by how the smallest things make life just that little bit better. For me, today, sitting in this airport, it’s individually wrapped packages of cheese. Edam, Gouda, Cheddar… Oh my god they are so delicious. I know that sounds crazy but finding real, fresh and tasty cheese in Mumbai is not always an easy thing to do and certainly not cheap. My girls are feeling the love too filling up on fresh ham with crackers and hot chocolate. They are giddy with excitement with every bite.

However as I am savouring every orgasmic morsel, I happened to glance at the tv across the way. CNN is on the screen and they are showing graphic footage from the fighting in Syria. And it made me start thinking about what do people really need to be happy. In the Middle East and many parts of the world it’s as simple as peace, safety and a place to call home. Actually let me rephrase- it’s not very simple in fact, it’s almost impossible as country after country fight to find their way towards a better future.  Again as I am writing this I accidentally eaves drop on a conversation behind me. An older woman is talking about flying home and seeing her daughter who she hasn’t seen in 5 years. This is her happiness- time with family. On the other side of me is a baby who is just being pacified with a warm bottle. A warm meal;her happy currency. And as usual, in my abstract way, I started thinking about the idea of happy currency. If like other currencies, they can be traded, valued and devalued, stolen and recovered what would this mean for happiness? Is it worth investing in a highrisk investment of happiness knowing that the consequence might mean losing it all? Or is it smarter to stay safe and invest your happy currency in a low risk steady growth savings bond? And if you lose it all in one bet, can you recoup your losses?

One small piece of cheese is making me incredibly happy right now in this one moment so what does that say about me. Does it mean I selfishly, only focus on spending my currency as soon as I get it without investing in the future? Or does it mean I am one of the many who have no idea what to do with their wealth? I don’t think so. I think I am a savvy investor who has placed a huge chunk of my currency in long term safe investments like my family, friends and health so that I can spend a little freely on the smaller things in life to make it just a little bit easier. With that said, it also means that when I am feeling broke in the happy bank, I need to realize that I already have a lot more happiness than many and that if for some reason I don’t have some of my smaller comforts then perhaps I don’t need them so much after all.