Doctor Ambedkar Basti

Madeleine and I decided somewhat reluctantly to move to a new slum called Doctor Ambedkar Basti, DAB. We were swayed by the opportunity to teach health education. I had worked for 4 weeks at Zakhira and while I was hesitant to leave my students who had finally opened up to me, I was also excited to expand upon my experiences with Asha. We were promised a female translator who could sit with Madeleine and I as we taught important health lessons to a group of adolescent girls.
Another intriguing part of Ambedkar Basti is that it is one of the very first slums Dr. Kiran entered twenty years ago. Madeleine and I were welcomed again with a wreath of marigolds draped around our necks and flower petals were tossed around us.
Paul acted as our translator as the Mahila Mandal gathered in front of us on the floor. We introduced ourselves, Mera nam Lali hai, Mein American se huun, me bis salki huun (spelling is probably atrocious) but that generally means, my name is Lolly (spelled the Indian way), I'm from America, and I am twenty years old.
We met the president of the Mahila Mandal, a few Community Health Volunteers, the Asha staff, some of whom live in DAB, and the regional director of several slums. It was fascinating to ask the women about their lives before and after Asha became a presence. Ranjina, an elegant, extremely intelligent woman who has since moved out of the slum and is now an employee of asha explained that she was about twenty years old when Dr. Kiran came to DAB.
She, like many of the women present, had moved from her village here when she got married so that her husband could look for work. The women explained that "where your husband is, you are". It is traditional for the wife to move in with her husbands family and be obedient to their demands. Ranjina was married at the age of ten years because her older sister was getting married at that time. Luckily they came together to DAB. Many of the women were officially married at very young ages, lived at home for a few years, and then moved in with their husbands as a teenager. Child marriage is gradually decreasing in prevalence here but it still exists. One generation ago it was the norm. In Zakhira I met a woman who had been married at the age of five, although she didn't move in with her husband until age 13. I asked how far in education the women had reached. No one had gotten further than fifth class and some had left even earlier. The role of women is very clearly a domestic one. Only in the current generation are there beginning to be signs of change but overall the patriarchy in traditional communities is smothering.
The women described the conditions of the slum twenty years ago. There was a significant Cholera epidemic going on. People suffering were not given water because it was believed to make the disease worse. Sadly, this lead many victims to die of dehydration. There was intense flooding and peoples homes would basically disintegrate during the monsoon. Dr. Kiran Martin then entered the scene and was appalled by the conditions these people were living in. She went to the local slum lord and requested permission and assistance to treat Cholera patients. She was given a single table to work from, and began addressing the ailments of the poorest of the poor. She realized that she would need the help and support from the community she was working in. The first Mahila Mandal, womens group, was established by some of the women who sat in front of me that day. Some volunteered to be trained as Community Health Volunteers, assisting Dr. Kiran with the numerous Cholera patients. Others agreed to be in charge of several areas of DAB and looked after the health of their neighbors.
I asked how the women's husbands felt about them joining such a task force. I was curious as to how the men would react that their wives were working together outside the home, exercising their first bit of independence.
One woman, her name is Asha, is a licensed midwife. She is a striking character, filled with a wry sense of humor. She has a dull face with bright black eyes and a witty smile. She bragged about her skill at delivering babies, even offering to be present for Madeleine and my pregnancies if we would buy her a ticket to the US. We all appreciated this bit of light heartedness after discussing such grave issues.
A former CHV remained quiet during most of the meeting. She is a bit chubby, with sunken eyes behind round glasses. We eventually got to hear her story, which was remarkable. At the start of Asha she had been very involved in the community. Gradually however, she lost faith in the cause, lamenting the tragedies of the slum and stopped working for Asha. Unfortunately, she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. This often fatal disease afflicted her at a time when she did not have many people to depend on. Ranjina and Rani and the other Asha women were there for her. Many diseases in the slum carry stigmas with them as they are not properly understood. When she became ill her own family was not there to support her, but Asha was. Thanks to the best medical treatment arranged by Asha and Dr. Kiran, she has fully recovered and has now redoubled her efforts working for this incredible organization.
We allowed the women to ask us some questions as well, though I was fascinated by their experiences. They inquired about the usual; if we were married and how many siblings we had. When the meeting ended I was stunned at the tranformation these women had been through and created. If there is such a thing as a dream come true, this is it. Ranjina studied for a particular exam in order to get a job and scored one of the top marks. She since has moved out of the slum with her children and dedicates every day to Asha as an employee.