Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Peter in Delhi

On our only evening in Delhi, we grabbed a quick dinner in our hotel's rooftop restaurant before catching autorikshaws to a performance hall for a 2-hour "Dances of India" program.

I rode with Peter and Kamini and Kamini's parents rode together. This was a first time experience for Peter and the others, and I couldn't wait to see them hanging on for dear life as we zipped in and out of traffic. With all the gleeful whooping, our drivers decided to enhance our exhilaration by playing tag with each other. I don't think I've ever heard Peter laugh so hard.

Peter was surprisingly attentive during the dance performance so I decided to treat him to the dessert we hadn't had time for earlier. Up on the rooftop, he enjoyed two orders of his favorite gulab jamuns in warm syrup while I had a lovely dish of kheer. When we ordered, Peter shared with the waiter and just about everyone in a 50-foot radius that gulab jamuns were his favorite sweet and Mom had said that. He could have "seconds" if he wanted. As always, every face turned in our direction with a friendly smile. My boy is just so darned cute!

Peter adored the breakfast buffet on the morning after our late arrival from Delhi. He made sure to tell each and every waiter that more boiled eggs were required immediately. He put two pieces of bread through the toast machine an extra time to make them nice and dark, then presented them to me in very good voice:

"Here, Mommy, two pieces of toast just the way you like them. Aren't I a good son?"

"Yes, Peter, and modest, too!"

"Thank you, Mommy. I love being modest!"

In addition to the lovely toast and amused glances from fellow diners, I enjoyed 3 big bowls of tapioca "breakfast pudding" and the most amazing banana fritters I have ever tasted.

Just check out the happiness in Peter's eyes as he finishes his 2nd boiled egg. He made sure to tell each of the waiters how perfect they were.

Our walking tour of local streets and alleys near the train station was led by a representative of the Salaam Balaak Trust set up by filmmaker Mira Nair after the making of "Salaam Bombay". SBT's mission is to intercept lost, stolen, sold, runaway or abandoned children at the station and bring them to a safe shelter where they can be evaluated and, whenever possible, re-united with their families. They have achieved re-unification for about 25 percent of the children in their care.

This statistic belies the common claim of many orphanages that there is no way a family could ever be found based on the limited information a lost child might provide. Of course, orphanages get a big bag of loot for every such child placed for adoption. Adoptive parents of children who were "lost in a crowd" (not at all uncommon) realize that there may be birthfamilies in India who might have been reached if only a little effort had been made.

Of course, not all children at SBT want to rejoin their families. Moreover, some "station kids" strongly resist any kind of supervision over their freewheeling lives, which often revolve around drug addiction. In addition to their shelters, SBT also operates several "contact points" where kids can come for medical care, baths, food, clothing and weekly movies.

We visited one such contact point right next to the station, and found several dirty, hardened-looking boys waiting for that week's movie to begin. These were the ones we'd learned to steer clear of for fear of losing our wallets. But Peter didn't see it that way. These boys (who looked much less fierce on second glance) were potential friends to him. He immediately set about giving each one a high-five ("hey, man, cool shirt, how'ya doing?") and handing out all of the candy he had with him.

There's a big difference between giving someone candy because you feel sorry for them and giving it because you want to make friends. These boys knew the difference. They asked Peter's name and told him theirs. When we left the site, they chorused, "Bye, Peter!"

The guides for the SBT tours are young men who were once "station kids" themselves. Our guide was given to a tea-stall owner at the age of 6 so that he could help to support his family. When he was paid with beatings, he ran away, jumped on a train and ended up at Delhi Station. SBT estimates that about 30 unaccompanied children enter the station every week.

Listening to this young man, learning of his hard-won accomplishments, and hearing about his dreams was a very great pleasure. He positively sparkled with joie de vivre. But as we walked with great interest through small lanes, past tumbledown old houses and helter-skelter assortments of streetside merchants, Kamini and Peter became bored and tired.

There were two other young men from SBT with our group, and one of them overheard Peter telling me that his legs were tired and sore. He and his counterpart each took one of Peter's hands and walked beside him, chatting with him like big brothers. When we got to SBT's main office, they whisked Peter away to a back room and called some of their comrades to come and join them. When I went to look for him, he was at the center of a smiling crowd of admirers, yakking away.

"Don't worry, ma'am ... Peter is safe here with us".

"Yeah, Mom, go away. I want to be with my friends."

(The photo shows Peter with the guide for our walk ... who by the way was re-united with his family at the age of 16 and now, at 20, supports a sister who lives with him.)


Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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