Stories of Goodness and Joy

Brothel owner gets 7-year RI

2009-08-10T21:16:00.000-07:00

THE TIMES OF INDIA

10 August 2009

Additional sessions judge D P Waikar on Saturday sentenced brothel owner Geeta Tamang (38) of Budhwar Peth to seven years' rigorous imprisonment (RI) and fined Rs 3,000 for inducing six girls to prostitution in 2008. Tamang was also sentenced to three years' RI for procuring girls for prostitution and another years' RI for wrongfully confining the girls. All the sentences will run concurrently. The prosecution's case is that Tamang had brought six girls from different places on pretext of giving them employment in Pune, but forced them into prostitution. The incident came to light when the girls were rescued by sub-inspector Vimal Bidwe of the Faraskhana police station on September 8, 2008.

Open Letter

2009-02-04T04:54:00.000-08:00

CG,
Im requesting prayer for one of our cases. Actually its multiple cases and im worried the accused will be able to get off. Heres the details:

Pune: In September 2007, a woman named Shila Talgeri was arrested in Pune along with two other persons for the prostitution of two children, Sujata and Mala. One of those girls, Mala, is Talgeri's daughter. Later that year, the CWC(government body charged with these girls care and safety) released the girls back to their parents. The girls are no longer traceable.

Sangli: In December 2007, a relative of Shila Talgeri was arrested in Sangli along with one other woman for the prostitution of a very young (15?) girl named Sara. The second accused in that case was Sara's grandmother. Sara was later released from government care.

Pune: In December 2008, charges were filed in Pune against Shila Talgeri for the prostitution of Sara. I was on the raid that night. It was only the second raid I've ever gone along on. Shila Talgeri ran from the police and has been absconding since then. She has been sending family members to the court in her place. The court has been oblivious.

I've identified two goals for myself in this work for this year. I want to see brothels closed. And I want to see Shila Talgeri in prison.

In January, I arranged for one operative to watch the court on Shila Talgeri's court date. After we successfully arrested the person appearing before the court, we realized it wasnt Shila Talgeri but an imposter. The police were angry...at me. I, because they have yet to capture this woman and could if they wanted to, am frustrated with them.

We have learned that just before Sara was rescued the second time (spotted on the street by one of our staff), she went to the police and paid them not to re-rescue her. Barbara, in our office, describes Sara as the toughest case she has ever seen. Only 15, but so cold. Never smiles. Only wants to go into prostitution and hates us for rescuing her. (please note: some girls cry and are grateful to be rescued...but some are angry) Some of you will remember me writing or talking about Sara. She is the one who, on the night of the raid, asked why we did this and "who would ever marry me?".

On Monday, Shila Talgeri has a hearing in court. It is the first since our failed attempts to have her arrested. I have since notified the court of the multiple cases against her and her deception before the court. Please pray she would be arrested under the second case. Please pray her bail would be denied and she would spend the next 2 years in jail waiting for trial.

But here is my biggest request of God. As I said above, the two victims in Shila Talgeri's first case are missing, almost certainly in prostitution in Mumbai or even here in Pune. Without their testimony, Shila Talgeri is certain to escape conviction in her first case. And if Sara never realizes the wrong done to her and never gives a strong testimony, Shila Talgeri will go free in the second case. She will have ruined the lives of three little girls and will never have to answer to anyone this side of heaven. God will answer this call for justice, but there is certainly a place for justice here on earth. Please pray for that justice.

Evan

CONVICTION

2008-12-25T11:12:00.000-08:00

After over 2 years, and 3 disappointing acquittals (2 of them due to bribes), Freedom Firm's legal work has finally led to a conviction. Sonam Roy, a woman who forced minors into prostitution and profited from their abuse, was sentenced to 5 years in prison.
In March of 2007, Freedom Firm rescued Sunita (not her real name) from a brothel in Pune. Roy was arrested and charged with various prostitution-related offenses. These cases generally take a mind-boggling 1 1/2 to 2 years to be completed. But on Saturday, 20 months after her apprehension, Roy was convicted in a court of law.
Pray with us that this conviction, along with the press proclaiming it and the inevitable grapevine in the red light areas, will cause other would-be abusers to rethink their lifestyle of profiting from the abuse of children. Pray also for Sonam Roy, that she will indeed be reformed during her incarceration. And please pray for Sunita, whose life goes on as a traumatized girl recovering from her abuse.
Freedom Firm
www.freedom.firm.in
+91 423 244 3053

Overcoming Home: I met Karishma

2008-11-12T02:14:00.000-08:00

The road leading into Sangli is tranquil. It’s scenic. This lane stretches for miles, essentially flat and straight, with old trees lining the way on both sides. Through the trees, field upon field and farm after farm give a backdrop of rural India. Laborers march along each side with sticks on their heads and bicycles pass loaded with plastic buckets or old newspapers. It didn’t occur to me just how beautiful this stretch was until recently. I was returning to Sangli for the fourth time. It was my first time alone. In 2005, I went in blissful ignorance unaware of the deep secrets that surrounded this place. The following two times I looked for reasons not to go. I wasn’t needed. It would be better if I went ahead to Mumbai. Never able to make my case and maintain my dignity, I went down the scenic lane as a man marching to his death. My march came alive as a metaphor of martyrdom in the very real treachery of that particular Indian road. This two lane road is fast and very narrow. Cars and buses blaze. One lane goes in and one lane goes out. But both lanes are open to everyone.

Constantly weaving in and out, passing the slower vehicles ahead of you while sneaking back into your lane with just an inch before being crushed by the oncoming cement truck; well, it’s not something you get used to right away. My boss, Greg, who has been in India for eight years, he sleeps as the government bus pushes fifty, the overexerted engine shaking the vehicle with each notch above forty. No, Greg sleeps… with his head against the window. Me, I watch the road intently, helping the driver, making sure he pulls back in time. And I watch Greg, bewildered at how he can sleep and not help me to pray.

A book has actually been written about Sangli. It happened one time that an investigator got discovered in a brothel. A crowd surrounded him on the street, hitting him some. When the team came with a vehicle to get him out, the driver of that vehicle ran off, leaving three of our team stranded. The crowd threw large rocks at the jeep; breaking some of the windows.

On a couple different occasions, protesters have gathered at the police station after a raid. During my first trip, more than a hundred folks gathered outside the remand home the day after I arrived in Sangli. The tables were turned later that year when the brothel keepers tried to convince the police to arrest one of our investigators for rape.

For those of you who read my support letter of last March, you remember part of the story of the first time I went to Sangli. You know that four girls were rescued on a Thursday night of that intervention week. You remember the deadness in the girls’ eyes. You remember my hope for their future. I left India six weeks after that night, but Freedom Firm continued to conduct raids in Sangli since that time and in its sister city, Miraj.

Karishma was twelve when investigations found her in a brothel in Miraj. If you scroll to the bottom of this page, under my first posting, there is a picture. The picture is a young girl standing with her feet in water. She is holding a little fishing net. She is twelve. She is Karishma.

Freedom Firm found Karishma two or three times before she was rescued. Twice investigators caught sight of her around the brothels. Both times they brought police. Twice, she had disappeared. There is actually footage taken in the brothel of Karishma lying on a bed. Karishma’s grandmother walks over and pulls the covers off the girl as she sleeps. Her grandmother stirs her to wake for a would-be customer. Karishma pulls the covers back over her head. A few seconds later she sits straight up in bed and throws her hands on her lap, visibly disturbed by what’s about to happen to her. Minutes later she’s sitting in the corner with her hair a mess, she lets her head drop to the side almost hitting her shoulder. Her eyes are dead and dejected.

Greg told me about how long it took to find Karishma. He said he had had droughts in the past, four years doing this work in Mumbai. Periods of no rescues weren’t unusual, but he’d never had a drought like this. For over five months, they didn’t rescue a girl. That’s actually great, except when you know there are girls to be rescued. That’s great, except when you know Karishma was not yet thirteen.

A chance encounter with Karishma’s brother at the train station led the team to Kolhapur, an hour and a half away. On that tip, Kolhapur police rescued Karishma out by the highway from a brothel she had been moved to. Since that time in 2006, Karishma has been moved from home to home. I know of at least five off the top of my head. She even spent some time in Freedom Firm’s home in Ooty. I documented one account from that time in my first support letter, also post number one below.

Karishma went from the Kolhapur Observation home to Home of Hope to Ooty to Home of Hope to Kolhapur Observation Home to Deonar Girls Home in Mumbai back to Kolhapur Observation Home and now this week, to Rescue Foundation in Mumbai. Amee and I learned about this from another rescued girl. It just so happened we were in Mumbai at that time. So, we went to Rescue Foundation to meet Karishma.

Rescue Foundation is a special NGO. The building is something like six floors with a doctor’s office, counseling room, recreation room, a school, and dormitories. Three of the girls there have babies. From the moment I signed in at the gate, I could tell it was a special place. The director invited us into his office on the ground floor. After introductions, he called up to the superintendent of the girls on the first floor. Moments later, at her desk, we did introductions again and explained why we had come. Amee had been there once before, a week or so early, coming late at night. The superintendent hadn’t met her then but now made it clear that coming so late was unacceptable and wasn’t to happen again. We moved on. From there, the relationship took off as we shared Karishma’s story. We told her as much of the history as we knew. Amee and I are both new, coming only this year to Freedom Firm, but we know Karishma. We know the stories. We know what it took to find her. We know the others joy in sharing a short time with her in Ooty. We have seen pictures of her with eggs at Easter, petting the horses, and standing by the lake. We know of her spirit; we know what a special girl she is. We know how she got shifted from home to home and how our counselors were denied visitation. We know the struggle. She means a lot to us, almost as much as the rest of the team.

Karishma walked into the office from behind us. I saw her before Amee. I jumped, hestitated, reacted; I wanted to shake the hand of my long lost sister. But we had never met. She knew Amee from once before. I motioned her to turn. Rising to greet Karishma, Amee embraced her with a strong hug and she responded in turn. No matter how cold or angry these girls might be at a given moment, I’ve never seen them turn down a hug. I’ve never seen them push away love.

Karishma sat and talked to Amee for some time. Then she sat with a blank stare, looking out the window at some trees. I had seen this blank stare before; I saw it in Sangli. Karishma has been rescued over two years now. She had been loved; she had been counseled. But for the past year and a half, Karishma’s friends at Freedom Firm have been unable to see her due to the home she was in. Moving around so much, she had every right to wonder why we had abandoned her. Amee told me later Karishma asked why no one had come to see her. It was out of our control, and Amee explained. Karishma also told that she would refuse to study until her little sister came to visit. Her little sister has remained in Miraj since all this happened. She was staying at an ngo residence school until recently when her grandmother pulled her out and refused to let her go back. This is the same grandmother who stirred Karishma from her sleep so she could serve customers. This is the same grandmother who prostituted her eldest granddaughter. Karishma has every right to be concerned. I called Greg immediately after leaving the home. Apparently he has been tracking the younger sister since Karishma was rescued. For more than two years he has remained in contact with a Reverend in Miraj who watches the sister to be sure she doesn’t end up where Karishma was.

At the home, we assured Karishma she could stay at that place for some time; that the shifting was over. We told her the others would come to visit her soon, but that will only mean something when it happens. For now, Karishma is in a good home. She is safe. Amee and the others can visit her. Karishma has a family with Freedom Firm. She has people looking out for her. She has people looking out for her sister. So for now, she has come home.

Three weeks ago, on the 24^th of October, Freedom Firm’s intervention team led an unprecedented raid on a brothel in Sangli. Members of the Child Welfare Committee came alongside the team and the police to participate in the raid. Two girls were rescued and the brothel keeper arrested. There was no protest at the police station; there was no protest in the streets.

For me, going to Sangli last week was like going home. It was like going back to a place where you began. My work with the Freedom Firm began in Sangli. From this place, I’ve felt the tension of opposition. Those of you who have heard me tell the stories of that first week, my first intervention; you’ve heard me talk about Sangli, about the dark air, about the mud. In Sangli, I’ve found myself in a world I don’t belong, a world I walked naively into but haven’t yet heard the call to leave. It’s a city that changed me. It’s the city I met Shyam. It’s the city where we changed hotels at 4:30 in the morning. It’s the city from which I could never turn back. It’s the city from which I must return. And Karishma reminds me why.

2008-10-31T04:36:00.000-07:00

Dear Friend,

The months since I arrived in India have been full. The following paragraphs will attempt to give you a window view of my new life here. Thank you for being a part!

The Office

I spend lots of time getting the office set up. It was used as a factory before and got very dirty. We are trying to fix the electricity, internet, windows, curtains, and buy all the necessary furniture. I feel truly blessed by this office though. It is in a quiet neighborhood with trees and a field across the street. I play football with the neighborhood boys in the afternoons. Right now I am living on the top floor of the office until marriage.

2008-10-31T04:27:00.001-07:00

The Work

I am learning every day. It will be some time before I see a case go all the way through the Indian legal system. For now, I enter the court process at different stages for each case. I am daily figuring out all the practical things that go along with this job. Also, I have been traveling quite a bit. I spent time in Mussoorie early on for six weeks learning Hindi. I also spent a long weekend in Calcutta bringing one of our girls back for trial. I also went to Belgaum, Karnataka as we rescued three girls for the first time in that state. Since coming to India, our team has rescued over 10 girls.

2008-10-31T04:20:00.000-07:00

The People!!!

Amee (counselor) got engaged!

Anandhi(administrator) had a baby!

Debbie (development) went to the U.S. on a whirlwind support and networking trip.

Gretchen (development) was hired in Minneapolis.

Glen’s (Advocate) parents came to visit.

Greg (director) continues to build his house.

James (regional coordinator) will be leaving Freedom Firm to pursue a career in journalism.

Mala (rehabilitation home director) got a new horse for our horse therapy program.

Shyam (interventions coordinator) led an unprecedented raid in Sangli where members of the Child Welfare Committee came on the raid.

Evan is planning his wedding. Just after making my decision to come to India, I met Leah Joy Taylor. She was working in the International Student office and completing her M.B.A. at Regent. She grew up in a missionary family and her parents currently live in Delhi. She was already planning to go to Delhi in January. Now, she’ll come to Pune with me and we’ll return to the

U.S.

in May to be married!!!

2008-10-31T04:19:00.000-07:00

A Story from the Field

I’ve never been in India when it gets dry. My first two visits began as the monsoon rains arrived. I have always left before they receded. So until recently, I’d never seen the dusty streets or the clay dirt cracking under the sun. A week ago, I went with Amee, Freedom Firm’s counselor, to a small town outside Mumbai to visit an NGO which houses rescued girls. The compound seemed to have just plopped itself down in the middle of an arid field with nothing but small farm houses scattered throughout the distance.

Amee and I sat on the veranda with one of our girls, Lena. We had come to prepare her to testify at trial. The last time Amee came, Lena refused to talk to her. She was upset because she hadn’t gone home yet. She thought she would go home after she had done her “court.” Unfortunately, she mistook visiting court to prepare for trial for “doing your court.” She also mistook the seriousness of her situation. At sixteen, she didn’t realize that going home might mean going back to the brothels.

Lena had gone home before. It was after the first time Freedom Firm rescued her from a brothel in Pune. The Child Welfare Committee (CWC), the body charged with her care and protection, released her to her village, presumably to her parents, without doing a home inquiry report. During that time, Freedom Firm commenced an aggression campaign to convince the CWC that what they were doing (releasing girls to just about anyone claiming to be the parents without doing any home inquiry) was dangerous, and illegal. Five months later, Freedom Firm conducted a raid on a brothel in Mumbai. Two girls were rescued that night. One of them was Lena.

Lena is scheduled to testify in her Pune case in December. I’m returning to Mumbai next week to continue preparing her for trial. She is terribly mixed up about her testimony. Her statement from the night of the raid looks nothing like her answers now. She’s even unsure of the name of the accused. It’s not exactly surprising. She has suffered a great deal. Her investigation reports talk about how much she cried the night she was first rescued. She is very small, very much a child, very much sixteen.

Freedom Firm has been working in India for almost three years now and we haven’t seen a conviction yet.

We have had a couple cases come to a verdict, but convictions are very hard in India, especially in these cases. But, I’m telling you, the day will come when we will see our first conviction. It may come very soon. We may have to be patient. In this my first newsletter, I share with you some of the struggles. The CWC is difficult. The police reports don’t match girls’ statements. Girls don’t want to get involved in court. Sometimes girls get re-trafficked. But praise God we found Lena again. She’s going to testify. And she’s going to testify twice.

Here’s hoping we take care of two vultures with one resilient little girl.

And the day of our first conviction will be as sweet to you as it will be to us because you will know all that came before.

2008-10-31T04:18:00.000-07:00

Prayer Requests !!!

I would continue to improve on my Hindi.

New staff needed: counselor/social worker, Indian advocate, translator, and interventions coordinator.

Our office would get fully set up with everything fixed, internet and furniture.

We would get our first conviction!

The rehabilitation home would receive licensing in Ooty.

2008-10-31T04:17:00.000-07:00

Bulletin Board

Skype: Evanphone1

Email: ehenck@hotmail.com

Mobile: 001 91 9765806106

Support: The Amos Fund, P.O. Box 67081, Lincoln NE 68506; memo: “evan henck”

Bringing back Sunita

2008-09-29T09:53:00.000-07:00

Freedom Firm rescued Sunita from a brothel in Pune on March 14, 2007. The police arrested the brothel keeper, a lady from Nepal, and Sunita went briefly to a government remand home. Shortly thereafter she obtained release and went home to West Bengal to be with her family. By early 2008, the court began summoning Sunita to testify. With an initial summons and later a warrant, three attempts were made to find Sunita outside of Calcutta in the village where she stayed. Each attempt proved fruitless as the girl’s grandfather, a village leader, thwarted the attempts.

Glen, our Director of Legal Affairs, called me on Monday to tell me I was next in line to make the 36 hour trip to Calcutta to try and find the girl and help the police execute the court warrant. I would leave Wednesday, arrive Friday, and then turn back for Pune on Sunday. That meant Friday, Saturday and Sunday in Calcutta with two Pune police officers and one Calcutta based contact to find the girl. Court met on Tuesday, the day we would arrive back.

We arrived in Calcutta three hours late on Friday morning, getting us to the Howrah train station at around 7am. Around 10am we headed for Amdanga Police Station. We would make this trip each morning for the next three days, each time believing that day would be the one where we brought the girl with us. It took over an hour and half to travel out of Calcutta, past the international airport to the police station approximately 60 miles from the Bangladesh border. At the station on Friday, a police team formed quickly to escort us to the village.

At the village, Sunita’s grandfather sat on a bench by the road. He didn’t flinch as our caravan pulled up in front of him. It almost seemed as if he was expecting us; waiting by the side of the road. He had a white, chin strap beard and a body that retained the impression of strength. The village consisted of sticks and mud, but little if any concrete. Our Bengali contact, Shahajan, approached him. That began the dance that lasted over two hours as we tried to convince this old man to give up his granddaughter. From the beginning the grandfather refused, so we walked around the village and into a few structures. The girl wasn’t there. No one in the village was going to tell us anything.

So we returned to the old man a second time to try again. He had set up a wooden stool next to a small pond. This was the first time I realized his back was bandaged with a large white covering. He was suffering from diabetes, taking daily injections. His body was failing but his spirit was as stubborn as ever. We went back and forth for quite a while. We hadn’t given 15 days notice of our coming. It was the month of fasting and only seven days after its end would it be possible to produce the girl. She was in a place too far away; there wasn’t time to go get her. No one knew where she was and she couldn’t be found. The excuses went on and on. It was growing a bit frustrating. It was a warrant! It was executed by a court! This man was a village leader; he had to at least understand the significance. He couldn’t just ignore it, could he? The conversation came to a stalemate. No more could be said. Shahajan worked on the man. Together we tried to convince him.

The grandfather got up to walk away. I had a document on my laptop which the grandfather signed promising to produce the girl. I thought about showing him and reminding him that he could be arrested. The villagers didn’t look happy to see us, but none of them shown signs of aggression. I thought maybe some force could help. I took out my laptop and started searching for the document. It wasn’t coming quickly but now the villagers were paying attention. The grandfather stopped walking away out of curiosity. Fortunately, I never found the document. It occurred to me while I was searching that this information was sensitive. I asked the grandfather for a private meeting with him in his home. He agreed. Shahajan, the grandfather, one local police, and I moved to his home and sat down.

For another 30 minutes, we went back and forth. Shahajan talked, begged the grandfather. He even held his hand. Both being Muslims, he evoked the name of Allah. The grandfather gave more excuses. I asked the grandfather if he knew the case for which we needed this testimony. He seemed to not know. I explained what had happened to his granddaughter. I told him the woman who did this needed to be punished. I reminded him that a warrant cannot be ignored. We pleaded with his sense of justice. I never mentioned having him arrested. He seemed to be responding slightly. But he continued to be stubborn, to give excuses, to fight us on all grounds. He never conceded, but said he would try to produce the girl the following day at 3pm. That wasn’t much assurance, but it gave us something to hope on. We headed back to Calcutta.

The next day I woke up sure we were being set up to waste half a day. So on the way to the police station, we stopped by the office of the Superintendent of Police. We waited outside the gate as we were hearing from Shahajan that the grandfather had in fact gone to look for the girl. I eventually decided to forgo meeting this official lest the grandfather might change his mind if I went further up the ladder and canceled any goodwill. But within two minutes of heading down the road, we got a call from the grandfather. He said the girl’s mother had gone to look for her. The deception was exposed.

At this point, we split up. I went to the S.P.’s office and the Pune police went back to the police station. As it turned out, the S.P. wasn’t working on Saturday and wouldn’t be on Sunday either. In the office, I found out where the S.P.’s bungalow was. I went there. Through the guard I asked to the meet the S.P. He refused. I was completely at a loss. I called my boss, explained the events thinking hope was lost. I would spend my last day in the hotel waiting for the train back to Pune and then ride for 36 hours dejected. I worked my way back to the main road to wait for the officers to come with the taxi. I wondered about having the grandfather arrested. How could he refuse a warrant? How could he be so stubborn. We needed his granddaughter for a day in Pune.

At that moment I received a text message from Leah. It said “…I’m praying for you. May God give you success, peace and patience…” It renewed my hope. I called the police to find out the status at the police station. The grandfather had come and wanted to meet with the officer in charge. I said I would come back to the station. At the station, the grandfather greeted me with a half nod. We waited for over an hour for the head of the police station to come. It was almost dark by the time he came. The grandfather seemed somewhat willing to submit to this officer and the officer in charge seemed to understand the situation. He said exactly what I would have wanted him to say. “Sir, it’s a warrant.” The grandfather argued some about tickets and times. The officer said, “yes, but it’s a warrant.” The grandfather offered to bring the girl the next night, three hours before the train. It was clearly a ploy. The officer scolded him and assured me the girl would be at the police station by 2pm the next day. I warned the officer that the grandfather had said this before, even that very day, but nothing more could be said once they had agreed. We went home cautiously optimistic. The next day, day three, would be our last chance. We would make the drive one last time and hope for the best.

Side note: The following morning we woke up to find that our hotel room had been locked from the outside. The hotel personnel had shut off the electricity and cut off the water. We called down to reception. They didn’t seem phased by it nor did they seem to think it was their problem and said only that they didn’t know where the key was. We were hung up on three times. I wondered if they would demand money to let us out. I wondered if this would keep us from even going to the station to see if the girl showed. I sat on the bed and read a psalm. After 10 minutes they discovered the key and let us out.

We arrived early to the police station. At 2pm, the girl wasn’t there. We heard the girl was coming but didn’t see her until after 3pm. I watched the vehicles drive by on the road, hoping she would appear. I knew her only from a single picture and wondered if I would be able to spot her. After my self imposed “time of last hope” had passed, which factored in more than an hour for Indian late time, I saw a group rickshaw come just near the station, stop briefly and then pull away. I saw no people after that, but within a minute two skinny figures wrapped head to toe appeared before us. It was a young girl and her mother. It was Sunita. The officer and I looked at the ladies in awe. They had come. The grandfather, after four trips to his village had actually produced the girl. Glen would later say it was divine intervention. It was amazing.

We had to go to Calcutta four times to bring Sunita for trial. When once we finally found her, she wasn’t happy to come. On our way out of town, we stopped to buy some ice cream. Sunita refused solid food and chai. Her mother refused to even come out of the car. But, Sunita couldn’t refuse ice cream.

On the thirty-six hour train from Calcutta, it was more of the same. She ate very little the whole way back. I didn’t care. I knew the second she got around Debbie and Amee all would be fine. I called ahead and asked them to meet us as soon as possible. Court was scheduled to meet that same day. Sunita needed to be prepared to testify and there was no way she would testify unless Debbie and Amee met her first. That happened at the Pune police station. As soon as Amee and Debbie came I rushed to bring them up. Sunita recognized Debbie from the time of her rescue. Sunita had cried that night. She had been rescued only five or six days into her captivity. At that point, she had not lost hope and so she cried in relief that her nightmare had ended. Most girls are so hardened by the time we find them that they not only don’t cry, but often ask to stay in the brothel. The psychological abuse that goes into scarring a fifteen year old into saying she wants to stay in a brothel is profound. Sunita wasn’t there yet. She lit up with Debbie. Within an hour, she was holding Amee’s hand. She was rushed to the court and met briefly with the public prosecutor. It must have been overwhelming. But she stayed strong.

Court started with the defense objecting to the Bengali interpreter we provided. He was a police officer, but still, he had had contact with Sunita before the testimony and the court disallowed him. There was a recess for lunch while another Bengali translator was brought in. Throughout this whole time, Sunita had to stand in the hallway where the brothel keeper tried to make eye contact with her. That woman’s family tried to talk to Sunita’s mother. All they had was intimidation. Sunita stood firm. We had dragged her from her home, made her to come on the train for a day and half. She had to return to the city that stole from her. Yet, she wasn’t holding it against us. She understood exactly what she was doing. She was smart. She understood justice.

After lunch, the P.P. asked Sunita some preliminary questions. The direct examination went well. But, the defense had not come back yet. We wondered if he was stalling. Sunita had failed to appear at numerous court hearings. Why would it be any different this time? But it was. The defense advocate must have been shocked to see her walk through the door. He returned much later, with a Bengali translator of his own. Cross examination began. Sunita seemed to hold up well. The defense seemed confused. Towards the end though, the defense asked a confusing set of questions. Sunita had earlier stated that the accused had beaten her when she refused sex. Yet at the end, the defense got her twisted into saying the first time she ever saw the accused was at the police station after the raid. It clearly wasn’t what she meant, but she said it. Time will only tell if it was a fatal error.

When Sunita stepped off the stand, she walked past the accused. There was middle line between that woman and the defense counsel’s desk. I watch Sunita to see how she would respond when walking within five feet of that woman. I watched to see if the accused would do anything. The only thing that happened is Sunita walked as close to the woman as she could without touching her. Everyone saw it. Sunita showed her strength. She showed that these girls don’t lose their spirits; that they are resilient.

For the next day and a half, we loved on Sunita. She had testified. Now, she should have fun. We knew we wouldn’t have much time with her. This was our only chance for counseling, our only chance to shower her with goodness. We had ice cream at least three times. We ate good food. Amee held Sunita’s hand, put artwork on her palm. Debbie loved her. I respected her as my little sister. Amee spent the night at the hotel with Sunita and her mom. Amee says they stayed up late watching t.v. The next day we went to an historical site. We walked around some ruins. Sunita visited a government remand home and met other rescued girls. She must have still been beaming about her testimony, confident in what she had done. Afterwards, at least three girls asked Amee if Freedom Firm would do a case for them. They wanted to testify against their brothel keepers. They wanted to crush the demons.

At the end of the day, mom and daughter were eager to return to Calcutta. When we were leaving, I watched Sunita’s eyes as we shook her hand good bye. They filled with tears. It was the fruit of therapy; the therapy of standing up against your oppressors, of putting to rest the anger. Sunita had been loved as much as any person can be loved in two days. It was the therapy of being honored and respected, the therapy of finding your spirit again. Amee and I prayed for Sunita as the train moved out of the station. Sunita came out of her booth and hung out the door of the train. We waived and remained until the train had gone.

Within four weeks, I’m hopeful we’ll receive word of a conviction. Sunita requested we telephone her with the news.

Full length Bhangra dancing video

2008-09-25T06:53:00.000-07:00

At the end of my six weeks in Mussoorie at language school, India celebrated its independence. As a part of that celebration, myself and some friends performed a Bhangra dance, traditional to Punjab. Enjoy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KEYrGhS8Fwc

The beginning of the end

2008-09-01T11:47:00.001-07:00

Like Evan, I'm starting something new, though perhaps not as drastic as a new job in a new country! I have just started my last semester toward the completion of my MBA in the School of Global Leadership and Entrepreneurship at Regent University. I am so excited to be nearing the end!! I enjoy studying, but it will be great to get out of the theoretical and stretch my wings in the practical application. I want to use all that I've learned to help people.

I watched a documentary one time called "The Concrete Revolution" about the huge developmental changes occurring in China and their societal impact. One interview particularly struck me: the producer asked one young man, “Don’t you want to go to university?” He said, “Of course, but I can’t afford it. That’s why I’m working here (on a cold construction site in Beijing) so that my younger brother can have the opportunity to go.” That sacrificial statement struck me so deeply. I thought, “I’m among a privileged few that has the opportunity to study. I want to be diligent to get everything that I can out of this time so that I can help those who did not have the opportunity to go.”

So here I am. Heading toward the end of my studies. Maybe I will one day return for my PhD, but this is the end for now. I want to do all that I can to finish this program excellently. I want to be prepared to help many people with the tools I’ve gained.

The beginning of the end of a season. That’s where I am now. I’m so thankful that God has brought me this far, and I am looking forward with great expectation toward the next season!! I can’t wait to see what’s next! Whatever form it takes, I believe it will be very good, perhaps difficult at times, but very good. I’m perched on the edge of the nest looking eagerly toward the horizon, ready to take off.

2008-08-31T04:26:00.001-07:00

So, the part of the video where I dance comes later. The blog can only handle 20 seconds. Ill try to get it on facebook next week.
Sorry!
Evan

2008-08-31T04:13:00.000-07:00

2008-08-31T03:53:00.000-07:00

Just now getting back to Pune and getting up to speed. Will be signing the lease for the new office tomorrow and finding a place to live. Will post about all the adventures to come shortly. For now, enjoy the video of my Bangra dancing in Mussoorie for Indian Independence Day.

I want to share with you

2008-08-09T04:52:00.000-07:00

Expect many adventure stories forthcoming! Adventures in Bolivia, Chile, Mexico, Thailand, Japan, China, Myanmar, Singapore, and India anyone? Shall we go together? :)

Leah Joy

When the trail goes only one way.

2008-08-09T03:27:00.000-07:00

I went to India for the first time in 2005. I spent three months working with a young couple who had been called to India to rescue girls. Greg and Mala had freed over 450 girls, but after five years in Mumbai, they decided to leave to focus on the smaller towns throughout India where the issue is just as prevalent.

My first intervention took place in the town of Sangli. I went there with a team of investigators, counselors, and attorneys from all over India. On a Thursday, following a couple nights of fruitful investigation, the team rescued four girls from a nearby red light district in coordination with local police. Later that night, I found myself on the outside of a police processing room peering through the bars at the scene on the inside. Sheela, a counselor from Mumbai, sat on a wooden bench next to two girls with absolute confusion and deadness in their eyes. In another corner of the room, three officers sat around a desk taking the names and addresses of those who had been present for the raid. In the third corner sat a brothel keeper. Her legs were crossed and she sat motionless in the dark.

Throughout the night, Sheela tried to engage the girls, who seemed so afraid. She had taken off her sandals as is custom, despite the fact that no one else had, and there she sat pouring herself out as an offering to these girls. The hem of her white dress was now brown and dirty, stained from the brothel she had recently walked through. Sheela had changed into that white Sari dress just before the raid. It surprised me because the lanes of the red light district where unpaved and muddy from the monsoon rains. The sex rooms, consisting of scrap wood and tin, made you dirty just passing through them. I had never seen a red light district before, but Sheela knew it well and so to this day, I wonder why she wore what was the most beautiful, purest white Sari dress I had ever seen.

At the end of the night, a room was designated for the girls to stay and Sheela rose to lead them out. Walking out of the cell, she paid no attention to the brothel keeper sitting on the floor. But, when the first girl followed, she stopped in the doorway. Looking down for three or four seconds, she starred. She starred with the same confused and frightened eyes of the past two hours. She starred unaffected by the freedom that lay before her and unimpressed by the love that Sheela had shown her. Standing in the doorway, this girl looked to the woman who had forced her into submission and beaten her when she cried. On the other side of the door, Sheela stood barefoot. Her white Sari dress provided the only light left in the night. Looking at the girls, quietly pleading them forward, she looked like the perfect picture of redemption. And yet, at that moment, the girls did not see it. One after another, each in turn, they found their way to the door, and stopped. Each girl hesitated and looked back. Each waited with the same question in her eyes; wondering what to do, what to say and what would happen next. Freedom and healing stood three steps away, but they remained paralyzed in the comfort of the familiar and blind to the hand before them. That night was the beginning of a long but powerful healing process as these girls were set free from sexual bondage, the power of sin, and the Hindu gods to whom they had been dedicated. God’s grace had come to these girls. And it was because of the work Greg and Mala had begun.

The Freedom Firm opened Roja(“rose”) in 2006. At 7,000 feet in the mountains, this rehabilitation home is a wonderful place where God’s creation provides a backdrop for the girls to heal. The first girl to come to Roja was thirteen years old. Karishma demonstrated just how much spiritual power and evil infiltrates these girls. At one point, Karishma broke a mirror, pulled a quarter-sized chunk of hair out of the housemother’s head, and ran away. Another time, she became so enraged that it took four adults to hold her down. Greg and Mala each held an arm and prayed over her as she struggled with them for 20 minutes. Towards the end of the struggle, her mouth foamed up and her body went limp. The next day she came to each person, apologizing and asking forgiveness. Karishma suffered unimaginable abuse. She was dedicated to Hindu gods and raped on a daily basis, yet she remained God’s child and He redeemed her. If you look at the posted picture, you’ll see Karishma holding a fishing net.

Although the numbers vary, there are presently between 300,000-500,000 children, mostly young girls, being prostituted in India. They do not do this by choice; it is simply forced sexual slavery. I believe Christians are called, as in Isaiah 58:10, to “satisfy the needs of the oppressed.” For me, it is a call to go to India to participate directly in the work to free these girls. Therefore, I have accepted a position in India with an organization called the Freedom Firm whose mission is to rescue minor girls out of the brothels. I will primarily be responsible for assisting the public prosecutor in cases against the brothel keepers and advocating on behalf of the rescued girls to the Child Welfare Committee.

This blog is the beginning of my journey into India to do this work. And will continue through what happens next.

Evan

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners, and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. -Luke 4:18-19