The power of touch

The winter holiday is supposed to be a time of giving and good will to all people. A year ago, Erin Rigik spent her break with some of India's most disadvantaged children.

Three days and I still didn't know her name. The little girl in the ripped gray dress, her pigtails tied with ribbons, crawled onto my lap despite discouragement from the older children surrounding us. I guessed her age at about seven. She had been glued to me for the better part of the week but never spoke - she didn't need to - her smiles plowed across language barriers. I welcomed her onto my lap and shook her hand. Here in Kabali, India, a town in Andhra Pradesh, this girl lived in a village of "untouchables." A gesture as simple as a handshake from someone outside her tribe meant more to this child than I could understand, and as I watched the grin spread wide across her face, I felt a stab in the pit of my stomach: a guilty reminder of the important things in life.

I had arrived in Kabli with 14 other volunteers, composed mainly of English teachers across Japan, eager to spend winter break working with The Association of Relief Volunteers (ARV), an organization run by an Indian man named Ravi Kumar. Kumar began ARV in 2001, while he worked for Habitat for Humanity, an organization that awards loans and builds affordable housing for poor communities that slowly repay the gift. While Habitat helps millions worldwide, it does little for people who can't repay a loan. Kumar began ARV to reach the poorest of the poor, people no one will touch, and whose existence the government denies.

It was Children's Day, and we had welcomed 400 kids to the village of Kothasatram/Indiranagar. The day began with tug-ofwar competitions and a rendition of 'Head Shoulders Knees and Toes'. Now the girl and I watched as children ran onto a blue tarp stage, showing off traditional dance skills for a chance at prizes. Earlier that afternoon we fed the children on banana leaf place-mats. Their eyes grew wide as we padded around with giant bowls, offering them countless helpings of rice and curry - seconds, a new concept to them.

As evening fell, we volunteers joined the dances, learning traditional steps and spinning children around until our arms grew tired. The kids posed for picture upon picture, elated to see themselves on the digital screen. Somehow the material goals of the outside world seemed meaningless against this backdrop of poverty, where the villagers' wealth of spirit compensated for their lack of possessions.

When I turned to leave for the night, the girl's mother, speaking in a tongue I didn't understand and gesturing to her daughter, approached me.

"She says take her back to your country. Give her a better life," a man translated. Oh, how I wished I could.

The first day in the village we arrived at 8am and played handclap games with girls outside a hut, while we waited for our assignment. Our first task, repairing two wells, meant racing the village children to a nearby sandpit, scooping up a lump of sand and returning with the load balanced on our heads. As we reached the pit, they jumped, disappearing over the edge, only to appear sandy and giggling, ready to help us shovel. Next we planted and watered 200 Eucalyptus trees to provide shade for the area. Barefoot, the little girls ran after us to help carry pails and teach us how to use the water pump. Soon we were handing up palm fronds to expert thatchers, who wove them to construct a roof for the school. As we worked, the children surrounded us, practicing English and singing songs we had taught them.

Obsessed with handshakes, they shouted, "Hello, thank you, you're welcome," as they fought to grab our hands in unison, amazed we would touch them. Even their teachers are not allowed to touch them because they would then be considered tainted in the outside world.

The women in the village brought us to their huts and dressed us in saris as the children ran to collect flowers for our hair. They had nothing, but were so quick to give.

Workdays ended with games of duck-duckgoose, as we encouraged the two groups, one a low caste and the other the lower tribe, to interact. Although our efforts fell short, with kids from each group only tagging their own, we knew we were planting the idea of interaction. While the low caste attends school in a brick room, the tribe sits around a tree to learn because of discrimination at the school.

Our group raised $2,800 and $800 of inkind donations, including clothes and school supplies donated by Japanese students. We also provided saris to 50 widows abandoned by their families as widows lack rights and are considered a burden. The press followed us, telling our story and proving the villagers' existence and need.

Our excursion ended with a trip to an AIDs center where we planted 30 fruit trees along the grounds. A pillar with large orange letters warning: AIDS, greeted us - the blatant discrimination turning our stomachs. The grounds sat against a highway, with no wall to separate residents from the noise. Many of the people were exiled here when their families disowned them because of the illness. They expressed surprise as we shook their hands and sat among them. Among the group sat two young girls, both abandoned as infants. The bus ride home was silent that night, all of us wishing we could do more.

This overwhelming desire to do more has inspired a second trip this December. A group of 20 volunteers from Japan will spend 10 days working in the same village. The group aims to raise $20,000 (USD), one-third the total cost of building 49 family homes. The Indian government and a not-for-profit government organization will supply the other two-thirds.

"Once the whole village is housed, we can work on their next priorities of education … and sustainable food supplies," said group leader Rick Mickelson, an English teacher from Japan, who along with other volunteers had a powwow with the villagers to poll their most pressing needs.

In addition, the group will help seven nearby villages, distributing food and clothing, and sponsoring medical camps, children's camps and English classes.

Many original volunteers remain active in fundraising for the village. Two volunteers are working on a plan to support Kumar, who resigned from Habitat to focus his efforts on managing ARV. Kumar did not seek assistance, faithful he would find a way. He is the only unpaid fulltime volunteer of the 281 ARV volunteers, Mickelson said. He added, "It is a testament to the contagious spirit of giving that estimates so freely from Ravi that the former volunteers were so persuaded to reach out and support Ravi and his family."

Text & photos: Erin Rigik