http://expressbuzz.com/cities/chennai/slave-driver-son-get-5-years-ri/174590.html
I feel overwhelmed as I write this. Tears welling up in my eyes as a man on my team exclaims, “This is a sign that the King is just”!
The sentence: 5 years imprisonment for all three accused under the crime of “Habitual dealing in slaves” among other offenses they have committed.
The owner sexually abused many women in the facility, emotionally and physically abused others, physically assaulted an IJM employee, and was bold enough to bond another set of laborers after the first rescue operation. He bonded laborers once in 2004 and then again, in 2005. Now…five years later a sentence finally arrives!
The term “Modern day abolitionists” has a new ring today. It has reached a new depth that it had not previously held in my life. My team members are known as these “modern day abolitionists” and are part of structural transformation. It has been 130 years since this law was last successfully used. This is the beginning of a slave-free India. This is the beginning of taking bonded labor and slavery seriously.
I sob as I realize that none of this is really possible without my God. That he is more powerful than we give him credit for. If we would only ask….ask for big things…He wants to surprise and overwhelm us with great gifts! He delights in our rejoicing!
Praise the King of Justice who cares about the voiceless and sends his children to stand in the gap between violent abusers and those that are oppressed. He has called us to be advocates and a voice calling out in the wilderness and now we see the blessings and the bounty!
Rejoice!!!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Freedom Training
A write-up of our Freedom Training Program was in the local paper here today. Check it out!
http://beta.thehindu.com/news/states/tamil-nadu/article407363.ece
http://beta.thehindu.com/news/states/tamil-nadu/article407363.ece
Friday, March 19, 2010
Sweet Success!
A man’s breath passed quickly from his lungs as he struggled with severe TB. He awaited some hope of aid, of rescue; he waited for someone to advocate on his behalf. His one request to perish in freedom was denied flippantly, with indifference by the owner who fully intended to dispose of his body upon death and carry over the debt upon his hard working seventeen –year old son. The owner did not merely overlook his condition, but was unmoved by the very life he was stealing from another. The impending death and horrible act of injustice created the need for someone to do something quick to save a life.
The facility was located amongst as many as 300 other rice mills in the district. The Owner’s association in this area was sophisticated and each member was well networked. Conducting an operation in this area would prove to be difficult and quite possibly end in an angry and violent mob.
It was always impossible to ensure that there would be no leaked information, but the situation we would soon face only became more complex. Arriving promptly at the designated meeting time of 0900, the RDO scurried about avoiding the team at all costs. He directed us to simply leave the report, which he promised to follow up on later, but the team refused to relent. Finally, with the help of his PA, he sat down to meet with the team at 1100.
From there, the team was sent from place to place attempting to pin down the needed government officials and police officers. This proved harder than initially anticipated as after hours of searching, the team was forced to drive back to Chennai to get the only Tahsildar available that day. Finally, with 9 police officers, a Revenue Inspector, and a Tahsildar, we were on route to the facility.
At this point it was close to 1600 and two main concerns weighed heavy on the minds of the team. First of all, information that had the potential to be leaked in mere seconds had been floating around for seven hours. Secondly, positioned at the end of dead end upon dead end, the location of this facility made it impossible for escape if danger did descend. We would be cornered. Prayers were fervently pouring off our lips and as we turned down the dirt road I whispered to Jesus, “Is this possible? There is absolutely no humanly, earthly way possible that these owners and the Owner’s association has not received a tip-off by now. Only you can deafen the ears of evil and silence the mouth of liars. There is nothing we can do, it is purely by your grace and we must trust you…we are utterly dependent.”
When we entered, the victims dropped what they were doing and came boldly towards the front of the mill. The children seemed to be filled with excitement, almost as if they had been awaiting this very day. Hoping for a picture of truth and reality, the Tahsildar questioned each family. He was moved by the tears of the families and by the elderly man suffering in the final stages of TB that had been refused the opportunity to die in freedom. Suddenly, the families were dashing off in different directions to gather their meager belongings and within 25 minutes, we exited the facility.
Once back at the RDO’s office, four enquiry stations were set up, and all the government officials aside from the RDO were convinced that this was, in fact, a case of bonded labor. Advocated for and protected by both the team and other concerned government officials, the release certificates were signed and the RDO was forced to change his attitude. The release certificates and initial rehabilitation money were handed out, along with a milk sweet from the RDO. The latter item was handed out in hopes of making up for his previous poor behavior. Finally, the RDO exited his room and went before the man with TB. He offered him the proof of his release and acknowledged his freedom to pursue medical attention.
Thirteen Release Certificates in all were secured for the victims in the rice mill. To the newly released laborers this was not just a laminated document, as it might be viewed by an onlooker. This meant the ability to eat wherever desired, to choose work, to go to the doctor when necessary, and to live without the constant fear of abuse and emotional berating. This meant freedom.
The facility was located amongst as many as 300 other rice mills in the district. The Owner’s association in this area was sophisticated and each member was well networked. Conducting an operation in this area would prove to be difficult and quite possibly end in an angry and violent mob.
It was always impossible to ensure that there would be no leaked information, but the situation we would soon face only became more complex. Arriving promptly at the designated meeting time of 0900, the RDO scurried about avoiding the team at all costs. He directed us to simply leave the report, which he promised to follow up on later, but the team refused to relent. Finally, with the help of his PA, he sat down to meet with the team at 1100.
From there, the team was sent from place to place attempting to pin down the needed government officials and police officers. This proved harder than initially anticipated as after hours of searching, the team was forced to drive back to Chennai to get the only Tahsildar available that day. Finally, with 9 police officers, a Revenue Inspector, and a Tahsildar, we were on route to the facility.
At this point it was close to 1600 and two main concerns weighed heavy on the minds of the team. First of all, information that had the potential to be leaked in mere seconds had been floating around for seven hours. Secondly, positioned at the end of dead end upon dead end, the location of this facility made it impossible for escape if danger did descend. We would be cornered. Prayers were fervently pouring off our lips and as we turned down the dirt road I whispered to Jesus, “Is this possible? There is absolutely no humanly, earthly way possible that these owners and the Owner’s association has not received a tip-off by now. Only you can deafen the ears of evil and silence the mouth of liars. There is nothing we can do, it is purely by your grace and we must trust you…we are utterly dependent.”
When we entered, the victims dropped what they were doing and came boldly towards the front of the mill. The children seemed to be filled with excitement, almost as if they had been awaiting this very day. Hoping for a picture of truth and reality, the Tahsildar questioned each family. He was moved by the tears of the families and by the elderly man suffering in the final stages of TB that had been refused the opportunity to die in freedom. Suddenly, the families were dashing off in different directions to gather their meager belongings and within 25 minutes, we exited the facility.
Once back at the RDO’s office, four enquiry stations were set up, and all the government officials aside from the RDO were convinced that this was, in fact, a case of bonded labor. Advocated for and protected by both the team and other concerned government officials, the release certificates were signed and the RDO was forced to change his attitude. The release certificates and initial rehabilitation money were handed out, along with a milk sweet from the RDO. The latter item was handed out in hopes of making up for his previous poor behavior. Finally, the RDO exited his room and went before the man with TB. He offered him the proof of his release and acknowledged his freedom to pursue medical attention.
Thirteen Release Certificates in all were secured for the victims in the rice mill. To the newly released laborers this was not just a laminated document, as it might be viewed by an onlooker. This meant the ability to eat wherever desired, to choose work, to go to the doctor when necessary, and to live without the constant fear of abuse and emotional berating. This meant freedom.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Month Seven?!
Sometimes I chuckle when I read the title and address for my blog. Mom suggested that I might change the address as it sounded a little pessimistic before finalizing the whole thing. Still, as I continue with my posts, I am convinced I chose the right name!
For example, my roommate and I came back from Thailand and were in the office one day when she asked if I would just look at her head for a second as it had been itching like crazy. I moved a few pieces of hair not seeing anything too exciting. Then I took a closer look...hoards and clusters of brown bugs weaving their way through her hair, sucking her blood, and injecting saliva into her scalp to create an itching sensation....LICE!!!!!!
Not the little white nits alone, I am talking the full grown, mating, multiplying, big brown bugs amidst the white eggs dispersed through her hair. Not pretty. So strait home for a treatment. Only problem was her hair was LONG. On top of that, we had basically been attached at the hip the previous few weeks as we had been in Thailand and she had then moved into my room for slumber parties!
There ya have it: bugs in my hair too, nits on all our clothes, bedding, couches and other furniture. Oddly enough, our house became the place no one was really interested in coming over to and we were quarantined.
Just now, a month and a half later, I am taking my clothes and bedding out of sealed bags, washing them, and wearing them again. Praise the Lord above its over....for now!
Backing up, Christmas in Thailand rocked my face off. I saw old friends, met new ones, played on beaches, hung off the back of sung toas (open back trucks with benches inside), went on scooter rides, had REAL coffee, kayaked, went snorkeling, saw fire dancing, and was able to enjoy freedom of clothing options and freedom to explore God's creation and beauty. For the first time in a while, I took time to be still in God's creation...looking into the sea by myself. I danced and I sang and I wowed and awed at the things around me that he had created and perfected. He is lovely! I sometimes forget how beautiful he is as I am usually unable to get outside the city to see greenery, mountains, or ocean.
I found it strange that the thing I craved the most, to experience freedom, was the thing I was fighting for for others. The freedom to dance and explore through hiking and having amazing views in my backyard. Freedom to wear what I wanted and not be under the constant oppression of others' stares. Freedom to be.
I cried a lot pleading with God to not force me to return to this place. I wondered why he would put me in a place that cramped my style of worship and therefore negatively affected my relationship with him.
Though Thailand was beautiful and I had loads of fun; it was a hard place to be. Sex tourism was in your face and the selling of women for sex was condoned. I walked down the open night market aisles only to be approached and hassled by men trying to force their "menus" in my face. Whatever I would like, I could get...order it as if she were an item on a menu, a toy, a treat. She wasn't human or real, only her parts and her tricks were real. The perfect way to feel alive while being so not present...the shutting off of one's mind and the pushing away of memories of wives, children, responsibilities, beliefs, and more. How strange; how sad. I watched as a husband and wife walked down the street while pimp after pimp approached to offer this man “what men need”. His wife was RIGHT next to him, but unabashed, they pestered him until he pointed at his wife and said, "NO, I am with my wife!"
I saw a young Thai girl being pulled by her wrist by a fat European man. What do I do? How could I even begin to make a dent in something like this?
I felt desperate and sad. I had to continually remind myself that I can do a small part. I can refuse to be a buyer of sex, or laugh at jokes that involve strippers or "prostitutes". I can choose to influence and speak to the men in my life about what "sex tourism, porn, stripping" and all those things are really all about...the force, the coercion, the mental and emotional slavery, the community surroundings, and more. Otherwise, I feel absolutely small, inadequate and hopeless.
It makes me think of the Winter Olympic Games going on in BC right now. Women and children being trafficked up the I-5 corridor to supply for the huge sex demand in the city. The newly opened brothels, the indifferent police officials, and those that are trying to make a difference. I think of the fans....the "good times" groups of guys who go as some sort of sick team to rape and abuse girls together; the angry fans taking their aggression and rage out on the girl since their player didn't win; the lonely guy who wants to “feel connected" leaving feeling more lonely and leaving someone else a little more deadened on the inside.
When will it end? Why can't people be more outraged and men and women stop buying and supporting the buying of sex and people as commodities?
I actively await the abolition...
On a more positive note, work has been going well. Recently my main job has been the editing of family forms. These are the forms we use to document every interaction or conversation we've ever had together with our clients. Some of the forms I am editing over are anywhere from a few months old to 5 years old. It has been interesting to understand more of what these family's day to day lives look like, what it means to be from the caste they are from, what marriage looks like, relationships, etc. These reports are given annually to government officials so that they can know who they have helped rehabilitate, can feel involved and needed in the process, and can be aware of the ever present existing need that many families still face. Some, even from the year 2004, are yet to receive the rehabilitation money each bonded laborer is entitled to with the presence of a release certificate.
Part of this also means that I have had the opportunity to go on government visits to speak with RDOs, Collectors and so forth about the needs that our client's still have. Too bad for them, we will continue to pester them until our client's get what they need to start a life of freedom.
Apart from that, I recently did a training on sensitivity issues when dealing with victims/survivors of sexual abuse and violence. This was mainly in regards of how to appropriately interact with them when preparing them to testify in court. The training came out pretty well when combined with both aftercare team and legal team and there was a lot learned. However, public speaking is still NOT anywhere near something I enjoy or look forward to doing. The whole week before I feel the walls closing in on me, I am on edge, and I become a recluse to "prepare properly" which is more like stress to inappropriate and extreme levels!
Even with topics I find comfortable and I get passionate about, I get nervous. Last week I did a training for our young adults at church about domestic violence. I was excited/wetting my pants. I could talk about it just fine in conversation, but in a lecture? Yeah right! Thankfully, many people participated and answered questions and a few people even approached me afterward to talk about their own experiences with DV.
Though it was scary, I feel blessed to be able to share something that so many people struggle with or face in their own lives. It has challenged people and has awoken parts of them that I had never seen before. Its amazing what putting words to something and putting it into existence does. The light shines forth.
So here I am with about five months left of my internship. I am supposed to stay until July though many things remain up in the air for me. One of those things is my finances. Each month, my per diem for the month is released into my bank account. Unfortunately, February was the last month I was going to receive my full per diem. What I am hoping is that with the monthly givers as well as any extra money left in my account I can swing it, but right now, I might not make it until July.
That being said, I also must make it clear that I had hoped to visit a few other cities in India before I left this part of the world. This may make it slightly less appealing to give as part of it is not work related.
Either way, if you feel lead to give, please feel free to do so.
I thank you for those who already have. This time in India would not be possible without you and your donations have gone to helping real people. Thank you so very much.
Also, if you get a chance, please be in prayer for:
-Hiring in our office. At present we are looking to fill 15 open positions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 15!!!!!!!! I know, outrageous!
-Our new structural transformation project which we hope will enhance and strengthen our relationships with government officials, the media, people from the scheduled caste and tribe group, churches, and more.
-Qualified social workers
-Upcoming trainings for our aftercare staff
-That God will use me in whatever way he wants to and that I will remember that this is His story and I am only a small part in this great story. Its not about me.
On that note, If any of you decide that you`d like a change of scenery, make your way out to `South Asia’ because we would love to have you!
Thanks everyone! Much love to you all!
For example, my roommate and I came back from Thailand and were in the office one day when she asked if I would just look at her head for a second as it had been itching like crazy. I moved a few pieces of hair not seeing anything too exciting. Then I took a closer look...hoards and clusters of brown bugs weaving their way through her hair, sucking her blood, and injecting saliva into her scalp to create an itching sensation....LICE!!!!!!
Not the little white nits alone, I am talking the full grown, mating, multiplying, big brown bugs amidst the white eggs dispersed through her hair. Not pretty. So strait home for a treatment. Only problem was her hair was LONG. On top of that, we had basically been attached at the hip the previous few weeks as we had been in Thailand and she had then moved into my room for slumber parties!
There ya have it: bugs in my hair too, nits on all our clothes, bedding, couches and other furniture. Oddly enough, our house became the place no one was really interested in coming over to and we were quarantined.
Just now, a month and a half later, I am taking my clothes and bedding out of sealed bags, washing them, and wearing them again. Praise the Lord above its over....for now!
Backing up, Christmas in Thailand rocked my face off. I saw old friends, met new ones, played on beaches, hung off the back of sung toas (open back trucks with benches inside), went on scooter rides, had REAL coffee, kayaked, went snorkeling, saw fire dancing, and was able to enjoy freedom of clothing options and freedom to explore God's creation and beauty. For the first time in a while, I took time to be still in God's creation...looking into the sea by myself. I danced and I sang and I wowed and awed at the things around me that he had created and perfected. He is lovely! I sometimes forget how beautiful he is as I am usually unable to get outside the city to see greenery, mountains, or ocean.
I found it strange that the thing I craved the most, to experience freedom, was the thing I was fighting for for others. The freedom to dance and explore through hiking and having amazing views in my backyard. Freedom to wear what I wanted and not be under the constant oppression of others' stares. Freedom to be.
I cried a lot pleading with God to not force me to return to this place. I wondered why he would put me in a place that cramped my style of worship and therefore negatively affected my relationship with him.
Though Thailand was beautiful and I had loads of fun; it was a hard place to be. Sex tourism was in your face and the selling of women for sex was condoned. I walked down the open night market aisles only to be approached and hassled by men trying to force their "menus" in my face. Whatever I would like, I could get...order it as if she were an item on a menu, a toy, a treat. She wasn't human or real, only her parts and her tricks were real. The perfect way to feel alive while being so not present...the shutting off of one's mind and the pushing away of memories of wives, children, responsibilities, beliefs, and more. How strange; how sad. I watched as a husband and wife walked down the street while pimp after pimp approached to offer this man “what men need”. His wife was RIGHT next to him, but unabashed, they pestered him until he pointed at his wife and said, "NO, I am with my wife!"
I saw a young Thai girl being pulled by her wrist by a fat European man. What do I do? How could I even begin to make a dent in something like this?
I felt desperate and sad. I had to continually remind myself that I can do a small part. I can refuse to be a buyer of sex, or laugh at jokes that involve strippers or "prostitutes". I can choose to influence and speak to the men in my life about what "sex tourism, porn, stripping" and all those things are really all about...the force, the coercion, the mental and emotional slavery, the community surroundings, and more. Otherwise, I feel absolutely small, inadequate and hopeless.
It makes me think of the Winter Olympic Games going on in BC right now. Women and children being trafficked up the I-5 corridor to supply for the huge sex demand in the city. The newly opened brothels, the indifferent police officials, and those that are trying to make a difference. I think of the fans....the "good times" groups of guys who go as some sort of sick team to rape and abuse girls together; the angry fans taking their aggression and rage out on the girl since their player didn't win; the lonely guy who wants to “feel connected" leaving feeling more lonely and leaving someone else a little more deadened on the inside.
When will it end? Why can't people be more outraged and men and women stop buying and supporting the buying of sex and people as commodities?
I actively await the abolition...
On a more positive note, work has been going well. Recently my main job has been the editing of family forms. These are the forms we use to document every interaction or conversation we've ever had together with our clients. Some of the forms I am editing over are anywhere from a few months old to 5 years old. It has been interesting to understand more of what these family's day to day lives look like, what it means to be from the caste they are from, what marriage looks like, relationships, etc. These reports are given annually to government officials so that they can know who they have helped rehabilitate, can feel involved and needed in the process, and can be aware of the ever present existing need that many families still face. Some, even from the year 2004, are yet to receive the rehabilitation money each bonded laborer is entitled to with the presence of a release certificate.
Part of this also means that I have had the opportunity to go on government visits to speak with RDOs, Collectors and so forth about the needs that our client's still have. Too bad for them, we will continue to pester them until our client's get what they need to start a life of freedom.
Apart from that, I recently did a training on sensitivity issues when dealing with victims/survivors of sexual abuse and violence. This was mainly in regards of how to appropriately interact with them when preparing them to testify in court. The training came out pretty well when combined with both aftercare team and legal team and there was a lot learned. However, public speaking is still NOT anywhere near something I enjoy or look forward to doing. The whole week before I feel the walls closing in on me, I am on edge, and I become a recluse to "prepare properly" which is more like stress to inappropriate and extreme levels!
Even with topics I find comfortable and I get passionate about, I get nervous. Last week I did a training for our young adults at church about domestic violence. I was excited/wetting my pants. I could talk about it just fine in conversation, but in a lecture? Yeah right! Thankfully, many people participated and answered questions and a few people even approached me afterward to talk about their own experiences with DV.
Though it was scary, I feel blessed to be able to share something that so many people struggle with or face in their own lives. It has challenged people and has awoken parts of them that I had never seen before. Its amazing what putting words to something and putting it into existence does. The light shines forth.
So here I am with about five months left of my internship. I am supposed to stay until July though many things remain up in the air for me. One of those things is my finances. Each month, my per diem for the month is released into my bank account. Unfortunately, February was the last month I was going to receive my full per diem. What I am hoping is that with the monthly givers as well as any extra money left in my account I can swing it, but right now, I might not make it until July.
That being said, I also must make it clear that I had hoped to visit a few other cities in India before I left this part of the world. This may make it slightly less appealing to give as part of it is not work related.
Either way, if you feel lead to give, please feel free to do so.
I thank you for those who already have. This time in India would not be possible without you and your donations have gone to helping real people. Thank you so very much.
Also, if you get a chance, please be in prayer for:
-Hiring in our office. At present we are looking to fill 15 open positions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 15!!!!!!!! I know, outrageous!
-Our new structural transformation project which we hope will enhance and strengthen our relationships with government officials, the media, people from the scheduled caste and tribe group, churches, and more.
-Qualified social workers
-Upcoming trainings for our aftercare staff
-That God will use me in whatever way he wants to and that I will remember that this is His story and I am only a small part in this great story. Its not about me.
On that note, If any of you decide that you`d like a change of scenery, make your way out to `South Asia’ because we would love to have you!
Thanks everyone! Much love to you all!
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