One of my deepest fears here in Kolkata is that people I love will disappear, and I won't know what happened to them. people leave town. phone numbers change (more often than anyone can keep up with), plans are made, then changed, and changed again. life is fluid.
deep in my heart (in that spot that you don't acknowledge very often, and mention out loud even less) i carry this fear.
the fear that the woman who went to visit her family for a month, 10 months ago, and who we haven't heard from since was somehow re-trafficked. freedom snatched from her.
the fear that someone i care about will leave, and she will die, and i will never know it...or find out months after the fact.
the fear that during one of her drinking binges something will happen, and she will disappear or die, and i won't get to be at her funeral cause it's over before i knew it was happening.
the fear that the marriages the girls at the prevention unit enter into will end poorly - with her at risk for being trafficked, or being trafficked without us ever know it
the thing is...these fears are not irrational. every one of these scenarios is possible. (i also acknowledge that an "occupational hazard" of the work i do is a sense of hyper-vigilance, or projecting the realities you know onto everyday situations). and these fears aren't paralyzing, or loud...but i do carry them.
there was a girl at our prevention unit in 2011. She had the sweetest spirit. I really enjoyed getting to know her while she was with us. And then suddenly she got married. One week she was there...and the next time i was there, she was gone. the manager of the prevention unit told me that she'd gotten married, and moved to city that i knew is known for trafficking and the sex-trade.
i desperately wanted to find a way to check in on her (impossible, really). and i didn't really fully realize it until Friday, but since then, i've been carrying around the fear that she wasn't okay. the fear that she'd somehow be trafficked.
and then, on Friday i was out in the prevention unit, and i was talking with one of the new trainees (who just started at the beginning of this month), and i asked her how she know about Sari Bari. and she told me that her sister used to work for us. and she said her name...and i'm sure my face lit up. she said that her sister was married (which i knew) and then i said, "yes, and she moved to_______." and the sister said yes...and then she told me that her sister is doing well. that she's married, and had a son...and she is doing well.
and i breathed a sigh of relief.
deep in my heart (in that spot that you don't acknowledge very often, and mention out loud even less) i carry this fear.
the fear that the woman who went to visit her family for a month, 10 months ago, and who we haven't heard from since was somehow re-trafficked. freedom snatched from her.
the fear that someone i care about will leave, and she will die, and i will never know it...or find out months after the fact.
the fear that during one of her drinking binges something will happen, and she will disappear or die, and i won't get to be at her funeral cause it's over before i knew it was happening.
the fear that the marriages the girls at the prevention unit enter into will end poorly - with her at risk for being trafficked, or being trafficked without us ever know it
the thing is...these fears are not irrational. every one of these scenarios is possible. (i also acknowledge that an "occupational hazard" of the work i do is a sense of hyper-vigilance, or projecting the realities you know onto everyday situations). and these fears aren't paralyzing, or loud...but i do carry them.
there was a girl at our prevention unit in 2011. She had the sweetest spirit. I really enjoyed getting to know her while she was with us. And then suddenly she got married. One week she was there...and the next time i was there, she was gone. the manager of the prevention unit told me that she'd gotten married, and moved to city that i knew is known for trafficking and the sex-trade.
i desperately wanted to find a way to check in on her (impossible, really). and i didn't really fully realize it until Friday, but since then, i've been carrying around the fear that she wasn't okay. the fear that she'd somehow be trafficked.
and then, on Friday i was out in the prevention unit, and i was talking with one of the new trainees (who just started at the beginning of this month), and i asked her how she know about Sari Bari. and she told me that her sister used to work for us. and she said her name...and i'm sure my face lit up. she said that her sister was married (which i knew) and then i said, "yes, and she moved to_______." and the sister said yes...and then she told me that her sister is doing well. that she's married, and had a son...and she is doing well.
and i breathed a sigh of relief.
1 comment:
This post made me sad--the fear and uncertainty and all. But what a great ending!
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