Dream House - the rest

Dream House IV

I couldn’t understand why but my wife was emphatically in favour of accepting the invitation to lunch – perhaps it was her sense of adventure or her love of an authentic curry. I was particularly glad to see that the curries were vegetarian after I had walked past the meat seller earlier – selling meat without a fridge means that flies are your best customers.

I felt so awkward as we sat down for the meal but watching my children be so at ease must have encouraged me to forget my questions and enjoy the moment. The kids were eating new foods without any drama although the heat of the spice was starting to affect them. I realised Sanjiv was there, obviously added to the party as our trusty translator.

My wife started to ask Sanjiv about his life and his family. His story did not at all reflect the beaming smile that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, or maybe it did. Sanjiv’s parents had both died within a few weeks of each other, seemingly of simple sicknesses that were never diagnosed and for which they were never hospitalised. Sanjiv spent time on the streets before finding extended family in this slum.

The real turnaround in fortunes came when Sanjiv learned that he could go to school. There was a bus that came each morning to pick up children for school. The school was free and just for children of the slum. They said it was paid for by Jesus and people in other countries who love Jesus. There Sanjiv was nourished, in his body and his spirit and in his dreams. He was getting good results and hoped in the future to become an accountant and get a home outside the slum.

I started to recognise the incredible generosity that we were receiving. It wasn’t just that they were sharing all they had, but their manner in serving us the food and attending to us was remarkable. I snapped out of this reflection as I heard Sanjiv share about his sister who had not been so fortunate. I watched my wife listening intently, I could see the emotion rising in her face, what could have been tears became an incredible resolve as she asked Sanjiv, “Is there anything we can do?”

Sanjiv’s sister, now 16, had been lured in and kidnapped by a brothel almost two years earlier. I had left the lunch quickly with Sanjiv and after finding his uncle we were on our way across the city in an auto-rickshaw, through traffic that flowed in a way that I could not understand. I was getting an emergency education in such a disgusting industry. Sanjiv’s family had recently heard word about his sister, that she was now quite sick, and this was an opportunity because it meant that her value to the brothel was much lower and maybe we could buy her out.

Sanjiv and I waited in the rickshaw that we kept while his uncle negotiated. I braced myself for whatever the cost may be – this day was a whirlwind in my mind but the purpose I felt in this was solid like stone. Sanjiv’s uncle came out looking positive and asked me for the equivalent to our thirty dollars. He was desperate. I couldn’t believe that it was enough - I was staggered to think that this could be what a life is worth – and how easy it was for me.

She really was very sick. There was relief in her eyes as she saw Sanjiv but there was such pain that stopped her from expressing her joy. We rushed her to the hospital where her uncle stayed with her. Sanjiv had a plan for her to be taken in by a women’s shelter that was run by the people that also run the school.

I was glad to see my family again as they were just saying goodbye to our lunch hosts. I was shaken by the day but felt something powerful, that we had been engaged in the most important things.


Dream House V
We woke again. As we had all fallen asleep in our bed we all stirred awake together. We rushed to the windows and the result was a mix of confusion, relief and loss. We were home – back in the suburbs.

We didn’t say much but we knew that things had changed, we had changed. Our minds and experience had been expanded explosively. Our world had become much bigger and much smaller.

Even as our house was less cluttered as we had found ways to share many things, our minds too were less cluttered. We were starting to see the world clearly and our place in it. And we couldn’t wait to go back.