Nancie Tartar, 20, fed Angresh his lunch then placed him into one of the 20 cribs that filled one room of the spotless nursery. As the 2 1/2-year-old drifted off to sleep, Tartar gently stroked his face, her light skin contrasting with his dark complexion. This was a pattern Tartar had repeated with Angresh each weekday for more than a month, but on this Friday, Tartar began to cry.
She knew this was her last day with him. She was about to fly back to Martha’s Vineyard, half a world away from Angresh and his New Delhi orphanage, one of a string of institutions established across India by the late Mother Teresa. Angresh did not know he was about to lose his American friend. Nor could Angresh, born blind, see Tartar’s tears. He simply drifted off to sleep, soothed by the feel of her hand on his face.
“This was a life dream of mine, to work at Mother Teresa’s,” said Tartar. “This program gave me a way to get into Mother Teresa’s and also gave me support in a country that seemed really overwhelming to me.”
The program is Project India, which sends approximately 10 volunteers each month, mostly to New Delhi, with the dual goal of providing short-term service and educating the volunteers about life in India.
Just three weeks earlier, 13 volunteers spent the afternoon in a village about an hour’s drive from New Delhi, taking the first step of their acculturation in a place representative of the way most Indians live. As the volunteers sipped tea in a tiny courtyard, a crowd of children jockeyed for the best vantage point to see the foreigners. On the rooftops, monkeys gamboled and peacocks strutted. Bright green parrots filled the trees. At sunset, a boy about 8 led several dozen goats down from the rocky hillside, and volunteers returned to the vans through a field of tall mustard. One woman remarked this was perhaps the most beautiful place she had ever been.
Volunteers in the group ranged in age from 19 to 65. Twelve were from the U.S.; Connie Eggan was from Walenstadt, Sweden. Two members of the group, Tartar and Sabrina Price, were beginning their second term after extending their stay. For three weeks, the destinies of these 13 people crossed in an unfamiliar part of the world.
Heather Andrews, 27, arrived in India with a list of things she wanted to do, including ride an elephant, drive in New Delhi traffic and go into the desert on a camel. Andrews, a physical therapist from Dallas, provided valuable work at Amar Jyoti, a school, rehabilitation and research center for disabled youngsters.
In her first week, however, she had difficulty finding her way around Hauz Khas, the residential and shopping area of New Delhi where the Project India office and its three residential flats for volunteers are located. The residences are within a 15-minute walk of one another, but as Andrews discovered, it can be difficult to find your way around when there are no familiar reference points.
“All I knew at first was that I had to go past the cow-food dump to get to the office,” she said, referring to an area on the side of a busy road where people would bring food for the sometimes half-dozen cows and various dogs that would come there to feed.
She said she also had not anticipated the extent of the country’s poverty. When she was riding in rickshaws, she felt besieged by begging children and lepers.
Andrews and volunteer Tammy Tucker, 30, a graphics designer from Minneapolis, were self-conscious about the stares they elicited, especially from Indian men.
“I’ve always craved space and independence,” Andrews said, “but suddenly, I just really wanted to stick with the group. Otherwise, I felt too vulnerable.”
A turning point for Andrews came toward the end of her second volunteer week. She’d gone into the old section of Delhi with two other volunteers, and in the press of people, she’d gotten separated.
“I was forced to take a rickshaw back by myself; that’s when I was finally able to be alone. After that night, everything changed.”
Tartar, who grew up on Martha’s Vineyard and had never been to an undeveloped country, had a similar transformation. “For the first 10 days, all I wanted to do was go home,” she said. “The country seemed completely overwhelming to me.” Ultimately, she signed on for a second three-week stint.
Price, 22, of Getzville, N.Y., who volunteered for a second shift at the same time as Tartar, echoed her attitude.
“Imagine the exact opposite of all our lives here in America, and that’s the India I saw,” Price said. “It’s the most unpredictable place.”
For Price, the local marketplace in New Delhi embodied many of the country’s incongruities: sophisticated computer businesses housed in tiny rooftop offices, elegant pastries in cases behind shabby storefronts, outdoor tea stands next to an international bank.
“You can find almost anything you want here, but at first, it’s hard to see beyond the exteriors,” Price said.
For Rick Norbutas, a 29-year-old kayaking instructor from Los Gatos, Calif., the initial adjustment came from trying to fit in as a volunteer.
“I didn’t think I had any specific skills to offer,” Norbutas said. It took three weeks for him to realize that his skills were in simply relating to children from another culture. Of the 11 volunteers on their first three weeks in India, Norbutas was one of four to sign up for another commitment.
Indian organizations view the volunteers as people sharing their skills and energies, not as social workers, said Uma Thuli, founder and managing secretary of Amar Jyoti. She characterized their efforts as “abiding support.”
Volunteer Wayne Strode of Woodbury, Conn., agreed. “I came to India to see if I could find God and did, in the faces of the children here.” Strode, 39, worked at Tamana, a school for mentally handicapped children.
Jeanne Gardner, 65, a retired nurse from Citrus Heights, Calif., found challenges at her volunteer post at Vimhans, a large psychiatric facility. As an outsider, she was able to see breakdowns in hospital communications and poor daily planning, observations she included in her final report to the hospital. Still, she was also able to see that “despite the cultural disparity, we’re still brothers and sisters under the skin. We have the same kinds of problems, administrative as well as psychiatric, and the same types of concerns.”
Project India was started three years ago by Steve Rosenthal, after he had taken a year off from his job as an AT&T engineer to travel. As part of his travels, he spent a month with a friend who was serving in the Peace Corps in Kenya.
“When I got back to the States,” said Rosenthal, “I realized the time in Kenya had been the most valuable part of my entire experience. When you’re traveling as a tourist, it’s difficult to meet people in a meaningful way. In doing volunteer work, we were helping people, but we were also getting a fuller, richer sense of the country itself.”
When Rosenthal’s search for an existing program was unsuccessful, he decided to start his own: Project India, under the auspices of his non-profit organization, Cross-Cultural Solutions. He realized not many people could afford extensive time away, so he set up the program in three-week sessions. He chose India, he said, because although the culture is completely different, many people speak English, making it easier to communicate.
Also, “India had very welcoming people. Within 10 minutes of arriving, you can have an invitation into other people’s homes.”
After settling on his target country, Rosenthal began to explore non-profit organizations in the New Delhi area that would be receptive to volunteer help. He then set up a small Indian staff and secured flats where the volunteers could stay. He furnished them simply with cots, cabinets, tables and chairs. In addition to paying for their own airfare, each volunteer pays $1,650, which covers food, lodging and transportation for a three-week term.
“We try to give people a completely authentic experience while they’re part of our program,” he said. “They live in Indian apartments, eat Indian food and operate their lives on Indian time. The challenges of Indian life seem to ultimately help and empower people.”
Arwen O’Reilly, a 19-year-old about to start Harvard University in September and a volunteer at Mother Teresa’s orphanage, said: “If I had just gone to the Hilton here, I think I would have really hated India. I’ve loved living in the community. This has been like an instant pass into an entirely different part of the world.”
Bela Singh, Project India program director, shares Rosenthal’s dual commitment to volunteerism and also to cultural authenticity.
“I want people to go beyond the cultural stereotypes of Indian life and see the truth,” said Singh. “Maybe on the same road, we have fast, beautiful cars, elephants and bullcarts going side-by-side. The challenge has been making people see all this and, at the same time, giving people the opportunity to serve.”
At the end of it all, Price and Tucker were glad to be going home. Tucker had gained a new appreciation for a life she had previously regarded as “boring and middle-class.”
When Price returned to her home near Buffalo after 6 weeks in India, she indulged herself with hot fudge sundaes and 45-minute showers but admitted these are short-lived behaviors.
“I feel so badly about leaving those kids . . . with nothing really. A part of me is in India now. I know people there; it’s my responsibility to do something.
“The thought has crossed my mind to get a master’s in education, go back and see if I can lend a hand.”
———-
To reach Cross-Cultural Solutions, write to 47 Potter Ave., New Rochelle, N.Y. 10801, or call 800-380-4777.
