Bornfree Art School - Bangalore, India

This blog post is mostly a downer and the stories and pictures that follow are challenging. But I believe that it at least they have somewhat of a happy ending but it is not for those with a weak stomach.  So if this is you, you might want to stop now and not continue as the the stories and picutes are quite intense. 
Bornfree Art School for Kids

Bornfree Art School for Kids

Picturing a bright orange van with a viscous looking tiger leaping from back-end toward the front you might think of speed or power but this van was anything but that.  This 1960s van had seen far better days.  It required several people to push the van to a speed where it could be pop started, and would stall if it came to a complete stop.  The seats weren't securely bolted to the floor and it was missing several widows, which is probably for the best as the exhaust from the engine seemed to vent directly into the cab. It was an interesting ride with 12 children ranging from 4-18 years old pilled in the back.  The van stalled many times as the 15 year old driver navigated the streets of Bangalore on our way to the Bornfree Art School, only slightly missing cows, motorcycles and the pedestrian brave enough to try and cross the street.
There have been many times since I have arrived in India that I have worried about where I was going, what I would do when I arrived and if I would make it there safely but oddly this wasn't one of those times, even with a boy driver just able to see over the steering wheel snaking through the utter chaos that is Indian traffic.  For the first time I had found some purpose for coming to India and I knew that everything would be fine.

The prior day, feeling rather down and depressed I wandered aimlessly through a beautiful garden in the middle of Bangalore.  I was feeling rather unsure of why I was in India and if I would really be able to survive for a long period of time in a place that was completely backwards from anything I have ever known.  But as it always seems to happen, a solution to my problems always seems to arrive when I think that all is lost.  The wonderful girls I met in the botanical garden that day sent me down a path that has left me a different person.

As we  sat and talked in the garden eating a meal they had so generously shared with me I found myself smiling more and feeling more up beat than I had in sometime.  It was simple food, a little pumpkin curry, lentil gravy and dosa.  As we sat there talking and enjoying the food I noticed a rather rough and dirty man walking towards us.  As he moved closer I began to wonder why he was walking so deliberately in our direction.  When the girls noticed me watching intently behind them they turn and at once greeted the man who was in fact their teacher.  He joined us for lunch and as we ate he explain why they were in the garden and what his organization was all about.

The Bornfree Art School was established to help provide street kids, orphans and neglected children a safe place where art, culture and work ethics sit at core of their education not to mention a safe place to sleep and food to eat. As I spoke with John, the core founder of the school, he explained to me the background of children that attended his school. They had almost all come from forced child labor factories, sex trade, or begging on the streets.  Most had no family, no money, no education and no hope for the future but John was trying to change that one child at a time.  I was amazed at the work he was doing, so when he offered me a bed and food to eat in exchange for chance to teach the kids computers and English is instantly jumped at the opportunity.  If there is anything that can pull you out a bad mood faster than helping other people I haven't found it.

The sun began to set and the mosquitoes moved in so I quickly explained that I must go but I would be back in the morning ready to teach.  Having been cheated quiet badly the day before I was somewhat skeptical that something that seemed so good could have just fallen into my lap, so I thought it only prudent to do a little online research about John and his school.  When everything seemed to check out I packed my bags and prepared to make my first move since arriving in Bangalore.

The next morning as usual I was awoken by the Muslim call to the prayer but I was happy to be up and off on my next adventure.   At 8:30am I arrived back in the garden eager to start my teaching and to meet the rest of the children but as often happens in India I found myself waiting around for something to happen.  Organization seems to be a major issue in this country but maybe that is just my western perspective.  The kids gradually filtered into the bonsai garden with apparently no really direction or schedule and busied themselves with playful conversation and games, stopping now and them to introduce themselves and ask the normal series of questions, was I married, how much money did I make, where I was from, and how long would I be staying at the school. Around 11am I began to seriously wonder where this John guy was and if his offer was genuine.  It was only a few minutes later that this still dirty and rough looking man appeared from a small wooden hut I had completely missed sitting only a few feet from the large clay oven that sat billowing smoke into the air.  At first he didn't notice me but seemed surprised when he saw me there with a group of children sitting around me.  He staggered towards me obviously just awake for the day and greeted me with a smile and a hand shake.  He explained to me that he and a few other of the children had been up all night feeding the fires for the giant clay pot they had been curing in this large oven for the last 12 days.  The fires required constant tenting to maintain the correct temperature for curing the clay. He was teaching the children about ancient pot making not only about the creation and style but the process in which ancient people had to bake these works of art.

Over the next few days I spent a lot of time still just waiting around wondering when I would find my time to teach or even get all the kids together for a single lesson but in the meanwhile I found opportunities to talk with the kids and learn more about their lives.  One of my favorite girls who goes by the name of Teena Das (but whose name is really Reshma) spent a lot of time talking to me about her life and asking me questions about every topic imaginable, most often than not about boys and her problems with them, which isn't surprising for a girl of 16.

Teena often spoke about her past.  She had come from good family with kind parents.  She told about how loving and gentle her father was to her and the beauty her mother.  She loved her family but this all changed when her mother died during the birth of her little brother.  Devastated by the lost of his wife and unable to care for the two small children Teena's father soon remarried.  The woman he married had lost her husband and was left to care for three children of her own, so it must have seemed like a good idea to join the two families and at first Teena was glad to have a mother to take care of her but this quickly changed.  Teena's new step-mother despised her and her brother, often refusing to feed them and frequently hitting them without reason.  One day Teena and her brother were asked join there mother to help with the days grocery shopping which for Teena was quite exciting.  As they walked there is no way that a young girl of 5 and her even younger brother could have imagined what was about to happen to them.

Teena's life was forever altered again the day her step-mother sold both her and her little brother to a factory where they produce bricks.  She spend 15 hours a day carrying sand and water to those who mixed it.  She was given one meal a day which consisted of one cup of  plain rice and some water which she shared with her brother.  She told me that she took comfort in working next to her little brother who was never far from her even though they could never speak to one another for fear of being severely beaten.  Only at night could the siblings exchange a few words of hope, never giving up that their father was looking for them and would soon rescue them from this hell and indeed her father was looking for them.

After what Teena described as a very long time she decided that she could no longer stay at this place and somehow in the night escaped with her little brother to the streets of Bangalore.  At night they wandered from place to place never feeling safe, begging for what little food they could manage.  Teena knew that if she could find her way home that her father would divorce the woman he had married and take care of her and her brother again if only she could find him and explain what had happened.  Through the broken English I couldn't understand how exactly Teena managed her way back home but once again she was met with tragedy.  She arrived back in her neighborhood looking for where her family had once lived only to find that her step-mother was gone and learned of her fathers suicide over the disgrace of losing his only children.  Teena was left with nothing but her younger brother who she must care for as he was too young to care for himself.

Teena's younger years where filled with begging and stealing, beatings and abuse, prostitution and rape.  Many times she and he brother were tricked into places that seemed like safe havens only to find themselves back enslaved in sex trade or forced labor.  Many time she was forced to do things that brough her to tears as she explained them to me.  But nothing worse than the night she was chased by "evil, bad men" as she calls them, beaten, raped and separated from her little brother.  To this day she still had no idea where he is or if he is still alive.

Teena is now one of the lead dancers at the school and is working hard to pass her 10th Standard tests.  She isn't sure what she wants to do with her life but she has found hope that things can get better and the world is not always and ugly and scary place.

Over the next few days I heard many stories like this from almost ever child that could speak enough English to tell me.  Most of these stories where almost unbearable to hear but each one who talked to me always said it made them feel better to talk to me about it.  The bravery of these little kids is unmatched   Although it was difficult to hear these stories it was even more horrible to feel completely powerless to help these kids, that I couldn't rescue them from this life and even if I could there are still millions and millions of kids just like them all over India that will never have the opportunity to even share their story with someone like me.

Not all the time I was there was as difficult as hearing the stories from the kids.  There were also happy moments as I shared a bag of instant oatmeal or cooked applesauce for them, a treat they will likely never have again as apples are extremely expensive in India or teaching English.  When the kids weren't studying or working to tend the fire they spent time teaching me simple survival skills for India like how to shop at the market, how to wash my laundry or cross the street without being killed.  I learned to cook a few simple meals that were all prepared over an open fire, using bits of trash, sticks or anything they could find for fuel.
My nights at the school were often sleepless as my mind was often plagued by the events of the day and state in which these kids live.  Even though there were rats, cockroaches and mosquitoes in the room and I slept on the floor I knew that both me and these kids still had it far better than a large portion of the kids in India.




Next story...

Suman is a 14 year old boy who is staying at the Bornfree School with his little sister.  I don't know much about Suman's life as he neither or his sister could speak any English   When I first went to the Bornfree I spoke a lot with the other teacher there, who I know only as Mioi San, a Japanese lady who had been working with John for the last 8 years. As I talked with Mioi I mentioned that I was a Boy Scout when I was younger and had learned a wide variety of useful skills, such as outdoor survival skills, personal finance and first-aid.  When I mentioned that I knew first-aid Mioi's face lit up and she quickly explained to me Suman's situation and asked me if I could please look at him as he was suffering greatly at the moment.

Suman had been in a very serious rickshaw accident 8 days prior to our first meeting.  His collarbone had been shatters and he had long, deep lacerations to both his knees and one of his feet.  After the initial visit to the hospital the school was too poor to take him again to receive the proper medical attention he needed.  When I first saw Suman he looked rather ill, his bandaged soaked through with pus, blood and other fluids, dirty beyond belief from the conditions in which he was living.  Although, I have had a few broken bones, cuts and surgeries in my life and have seen my fair share of infected wounds, none of this prepared me to for what I was about to do.

The Bornfree School is in a very remote area of Bangalore but fortunately the nearest medical supply store wasn't too far away, so I took a quick walk with one of the other boys and purchased the things I would need to tend to Suman. Unfortunately there wasn't a pharmacy anywhere near by to purchase some painkillers that would be strong enough to help this little boy deal with the intense pain he would surely feel as I worked on him.  I still debate if giving at little boy alcohol was a good decision but I didn't know what else i could give him for pain besides that and some ibuprofen I had brought from home.

Since the bandages had not been changed since the his original visit to the hospital the dressings had fused to almost all of the healing surfaces except for where bright green fluids continuously drain from the wounds.  I had no other option but to soak the bandages with hot, antiseptic water .  I know that for Suman the pain was excruciating  but to my amazement he never made a sound nor shed a tear but rather would tremble throughout his body as I slowly and carefully soaked and removed the filthy bandages.

After nearly 2 hours I had the bandages mostly removed setting one of the little girls to work with a fan trying to keep the flies from landing on his exposed wounds.  It took me another hour to properly clean and redress the wounds.  Most of the wounds looked okay if not a bit infected but his foot really concerned me.  It was very infected and had swollen to almost twice the size of his other foot.  I took extra care to clean and properly dress this foot, informing him that he must keep the foot elevated so that it would hopefully relieve some of the swealing.  I shared a few of the general antibiotics I had brought from home in hopes that it would help with the infection.

Being emotional drained and exhausted from the work I returned to the other part of the school, more than 1km away from the boys dorms to take a nap and recover a bit from the days events.  A few hours later I awoke to a soft knocking at the door.  When I opened the door there was Suman's little sister holding two small roses she had cut from a near by bush.  At this point I could no longer cope with everything I had experienced of the last few days and broke down into sobbing mess.  I think that the little girl was rather shocked at my reaction because she promptly left.

Over the remainder of my stay I visited Suman several more times repeating the process but each time seeing great improvement in his condition.  The swelling in his food had gone down by almost half and he was up and walking around a bit.   Last time I saw Suman he certainly seemed to be on the up and up.

These are just a few of the experiences I had during my short stay at the Bornfree School.  I could write for many more hours about my time there but most of it I would rather just leave in the past.  I like to believe that the therapy these kids receive from the dancing, singing, working and learning they do is making a real difference but in reality I know this but a tiny, tiny fraction of the atrocities so many children face not only in India but throughout the world.  No children should have to live this way.

Bangalore, Karnataka, India

Arriving in Bangalore

It has been two weeks since I arrived in India and each day I wake up wondering what crazy thing will happen today.  No matter how much I had prepared or strong I thought I was, nothing could have prepared me for what I have experienced in my short time here in Bangalore thus far.

Sunrise in Singapore

The 4th of December I said goodbye to my sister Jessica and her wonderful family and settled in for the 32 hours of air travel that laid ahead.  I am really glad I decided to fly with Singapore Air, there service was wonderful, it made the travel much more bearable.  The 14 hour flight to Tokyo was not nearly as bad as I thought it would be, probably because I spent most of the time sleeping...but still not horrible.  I had a quick 2 hour layover in Tokyo, which was just enough time to grab a bottle of water and make it through security to board the same plane.  I am sad I didn't have more time in Japan because from what I could see as we flew in I think I would really enjoy it there.  From Tokyo we set off on a 7 hour flight to Singapore once again sleeping the majority of the time.  It is funny how just sitting on a plane can take so much energy out of you.  I arrived in Singapore at 3AM so I wasn't able to see much as we landed in this small, immaculately maintained country.  From what I have read Singapore is a amazingly clean and well organized but very expensive by Asian standards.  I might try and hit it up on my way to Thailand in April.  Famished from my trip thus far I had only one thing I wanted to eat while in Singapore, Singaporean Chicken and Rice.  Unfortunately I didn't have enough time to get out into the city to find a proper bowl of this delicious treat, so an airport version would have to do.  Even though it was airport quality food it was still amazing and the small scope of little red chilies set my mouth on fire but I loved every minute of it.  "I am sure I will pay the burning price for that in a few hours" is what thought as I headed to the gate.

The sun began to rise as I boarded the plane to Bangalore. With butterflies in my stomach I took my seat not knowing what I would face when I landed in India for the first time.  I was pleased to find that an older Indian couple would be sitting next to me for the duration of the flight and I couldn't wait to strike up a conversation with them and pick their brains for whatever information I could.  After we reached cruising altitude they noticed me staring out the window in awe as the plane began to fly over the Bay of Bengal. They asked me if this was my first trip to India and I explained that it was and what my basic plan was.  From this point the conversation took many turns from family, cooking, money management to world politics and basic survival skills for India.  They were very kind to me and provided me with valuable information about how to cope in India.  I thanked them when we landed and I set off to find a way into the city and hopefully a place to stay.  I was pleased to see that my bag had made it all the way from L.A to Bangalore and the two plane changes in between without any issue. All I can say is that Singapore Air is amazing, I highly recommend it.

With my pack on my back I headed out in the the utter chaos of India.  I was immediately mobbed by taxi drivers as I stepped foot out of the airport.  I had no idea what I was doing but I just pretended I did, following the saying, fake it until you make it!  I pushed my way through the crowds looking for someone who might be able to explain to me how to find a taxi and how much it would cost me.   I found another old female traveler who ended up being from Germany.  She explained to me how find a reasonable taxi and roughly how much it would cost me.  I tracked down a taxi that didn't look as scratched and dented as the others I had seen, so I took this as a sign that this guy could at least get me somewhere without killing us both in the process.  After some 10 minutes or so, overcoming a thick accent and broken English, I was able to negotiate a reasonable ride to the heart of the city assuming I could just walk around and find a place to stay.  As we snaked our way through traffic I thought impossible to navigate, I talked with my driver about the city and his family.  When I realized the was a nice guy and knowledgeable about the area I asked him if there was a place in the city that he would recommend.  He nodded with a smile, zipping down alleyways and side streets unfit for any vehicle by US standards . After 45 minutes of unnerving driving we arrived at the hotel. It was nice enough, a good place to overcome jet lag and ready myself for the next day. I checked into my room and in need of a little pampering I headed to the nearest salon for a nice strait-razor shave and hair wash and for $5, it was a pretty nice experience, I left feeling like a new man. Other than that I pretty much just spent the day sleeping and getting a grip with what India is all about.

Bangalore Parliament House

The next morning I awoke to the

Gobi Manchurian

5am Muslim call to prayer, feeling pretty good after 16 hours of sleep I was ready to face the day and see what Bangalore had to offer.  Walking a short distance from the hotel I flagged down a near by auto-rickshaw and headed to some museums.  I was pleased when the drive offered to show me around for the day for just 100 rupees ($2).  My driver Babbu was a native Bangalorian and was thrilled to show me all the happening locations he liked best.  Our first stop was the Technology and Science Museum which was entertaining enough but more so with the hundreds of school children on a field trip who constantly came up to me for pictures, ask me where I was from and to shake my hand.  I think I shook more hands in the 2 hours I was in that museum than in the rest of my 27 years combined.  Stop two was to the Government Museum just across the way to see statues, paintings and artifacts dating back as far as 2800BC, unfortunately there was no photography allowed in the museum because there were many amazing things I would have loved to snapped photos of.  Feeling pretty hungry we traveled a few miles to one of Babbu's favorite lunch spot.  It was in a small back alley where I would have never ventured into alone but that is why having a local guide has its benefits.  At this dank, dirty little shop is where I had my first veritable kati roll which is like the closest thing I will probably be getting to a fajita out here.  It is sauteed veggies, some other mystery ingredients covered in a very spicy but sweet red sauce and wrapped in roti (something like a tortilla), it was amazing.  He continued driving me around showing my some site from the back of his three wheeled death cart. I only call it a death cart because it is open on both side and it only had 3 wheels and if we were in even a slight fender bender I am certain we would both be thrown from the cart into Indian traffic (sorry mom, I love you).  Babbu would snake in an out of traffic following, what seemed to me, absolutely zero traffic rules...but then again no one here does.  After seeing the parliament house, which was sadly under construction at the time, I was feeling completely exhausted although it was only 3:30 in the afternoon.  I returned to my hotel room and slept until the next morning only waking for a short period to head down to the hotel kitchen for some dinner.  This meal has been possible the best thing I have had so far.  Gobi Manchurian is probably the best use of cauliflower know to man. The cauliflower has been coated in some red spicy batter and fried...simply amazing.  If you haven't guessed by now, I really like food.

Lal Bagh Botanical Gardens

House in the Jungle

My third day in India was my first really challenging day since leaving home.  The day started off with a little shopping for a few clothing items I thought would be nice to have.  Over the last couple of days I knew I had been taken advantage of by shops, lied to by people on the streets but so far nothing major.  I had ready many articles on how to avoid scams and thought I would be able to pick out the cheaters and simply not do business with them.  Well I have quickly learned that people are much better at deceiving me than I am at at spotting the scams.  To make a long story short I ended up getting taken by a shop keeper for about 50% more than the actual cost of the items I purchase and the driver who had brought me had set the whole thing up....grrr.  Well this put my into a funk knowing that if I didn't figure out quickly how to survive in India my money would run out and this would end up being a whole lot short of a trip that I had originally planned.  Not only had I had a bad morning of shopping but the noise, pollution and never ending crowds of people were starting to bother me.  For those who close to me they know me as a person who enjoys his alone time and personal space...well there is none of that in India ..at all.  So feeling kind of bummed out and a little frustrated I decided to take a stroll through the botanical gardens of Lal Bagh to clear my head and find a nice peaceful place to relax.  The gardens were beautiful, filled with exotic plants not only from India and Asia but all over the world.
I really enjoyed my time there but it didn't do much to improve my mood.
I had only planned on staying in the garden for an hour or so but close to 4 hours later I decided I needed to go back to my hotel and plan the next step in my trip.  Slowly wandering from the far end of the garden I made my way back to the entrance by a different way than I had originally come.  Suddenly I found myself looking at a gate that seemed out of place for the rest of garden.  It was an oriental looking gate with a large yin and yang symbol on it.  Having already spend much more time in the garden than I had originally planned I was tempted to pass it by but as I walked by I thought a few more minutes to check out this unique area couldn't hurt.  Entering that small bonsai tree garden has changed my trip to India and my life for forever.

Children of Bornfree Art School for Kids

Orange County, California, U.S.A

     Well I am finally on my way...all my things are in order and my journey has begun.  November 30th I caught a quick flight from Salt Lake City International Airport to Santa Ana, California.  I have been staying with my sister Jessica and her wonderful family which consists of her husband Phillip and their four little boys, Logan (7), Luke (5), Oliver (2) and Charlie (6m).  It has been good to stay with family for a few days while I put the stress and chaos of normal life behind me and prepare to take that big step into the unknown.  Little did I know I would be trading one type of chaos for a another.  As you can imagine with four happy, curious, energetic little boys there is rarely a dull moment around here.  We have spent time building wooden toy planes, playing soccer, practicing spelling, playing wii, reading and just generally having a great time...they completely wear me out.  I have so much respect for parents who do this day in and day out, I guess it's something to look I forward to in my future.

     Although, surrounded by constant little boy crazy I have still had time to reflect on what lay ahead of me and also come to terms with what I am leaving behind.  As with preparing for any long amount of time spent away from home there comes a certain sense of sadness in leaving loved ones behind knowing it will be quite sometime before you will see each other again.  For me this was especially hard since I have the greatest friends and family a guy could hope for.  In the weeks prior to me leaving I took the opportunity to spend time with the people who matter most to me, people I most certainly take for granted due to their relative closeness and ease of communication.  I am very glad I took the time because I know I will miss them all greatly...

     As the time drifts by and my 32 hour series of flights to Bangalore looms just over the horizon I would be dishonest if I said I wasn't scared about what lay store for me.  Even though I know I have done my research, my packing list has been checked twice, all my shots and medication acquired and my visa/passport documentation in order, I can help but worry about what will happen.  I am sure it is just the pre-adventure jitters but for me it is no less captivating. I try not to spend to much time dwelling on the subject for fear of driving myself completely mad.  I just need to go with flow, step on that plane and let it take me away.  I am the type of person who truly believes that with enough patience and effort everything just seems to work out alright.  Rarely is it that simple or it is a naive way to look at things but it seems to be working so far.

A Day at the park photo album

Walk Before You Run

So hopefully I am not getting too far ahead of myself here but now seems like the right time to start my blog.  Throughout my travels I will be keeping a log of places I have been, things I have seen and people I have met.  I will be tracking my progress on Google Maps so everyone who is interested can keep track as I move about.  I am sure to encounter a wide variety of crazy situations and sights.


Over the last year I have asked myself many times if this is all worth it or if my plan will ever come together. I never knew that simplifying my life and traveling could be so challenging. I am constantly amazed at the amount of things I'd piled on top of my life without even realizing what was happening. Whether it's a fancy car, social responsibilities or that shopping spree where I bought too much just because it was on sale...I had a lot of stuff in my way. Only since I began to simplify my life did I truly realize how much stuff I really had collected over the last 6 years. It has been no easy thing to cut all the excess out...to be completely honest it has been a very painful change to part with things I didn't even use or care about. Weird....I know, but sacrifices has been a continuous theme, to go without for a greater purpose.

Originally I planned on leaving in January of 2012, it is now almost October.  Challenges have come and gone, as have my dates to leave.  In the past, the frustration and disappointment I have faced over the last year would have probably turned me away from accomplishing my goals but for some reason this dream hasn't faded away like so many others before it. However, because of those same problems I have found myself in a variety of unique and amazing situations. Situations that I know have prepared me for coping with the crazy and challenging things to come.  I can help but think of a quote from Beautiful Boy by John Lennon, "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." As the time gets closer for me to leave I know that the last year has been as much a part of the journey as traveling itself.

This week my visa for India finally came through and for the first time in a long while I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I know this adventure is going to happen and it's not just a pipe dream.  I also know that there is absolutely no way I could have even come this far had it not been for the support and generosity from my friends and family.  In the past I used to think that asking for help or relying on other was a sign of weakness (don't ask me why I thought that, I am not exactly sure myself).  I am big boy and should be able to take care of myself, no help required.  So you can imagine how incredibly humbling it has been to be in a place where I simply could not progress without the help of others.  Now looking back it is clear to me that it was a lesson that needed to be started now.