Know the Place: Volunteering for Asha, a charity that works in the slums

A lane in Zakhira slum.

The reason I’m staying in Delhi for the next few weeks is to volunteer with a charity called Asha, which works in 50 slums across Delhi. I was drawn to Asha (which means "hope" in Hindi) not just because of its work, but because it was specifically looking for a volunteer who could help with writing, and I wanted to do something related to what I do.

More than that, though, I like that Asha actually seems to work. I can’t describe how many nonprofits I’ve worked with that just seemed ineffective (like the giant bureaucracy that is the Red Cross). After a week of touring the slums and talking to residents and health workers, I really do believe Asha’s model brings things like healthcare, empowerment, microfinance and education to people who otherwise wouldn’t have it. I know, I know—I drank the Kool-aid.

To put it simply, Asha’s model relies on training people within the slum to be community health volunteers, setting up women’s and children’s groups to discuss issues that affect the community, and then teaching these women and children to be leaders and advocates.

It sounds so simplistic, but it’s worked wonders. People who never had a voice are going to local politicians and insisting on better infrastructure—they want working public toilets, concrete lanes to replace the mud, and more water taps and tube wells so that there’s enough clean water for everybody. And they ask, again and again, respectfully but firmly, until they get it. The model is so successful that Asha is now working to bring microfinance and college education to the slum residents, both things they never dreamed they could have.

At the Kalkaji slum, one boy, Tahir, talked about how before he went to college, he never went to the mall, fearful that he’d get judgmental looks. He’s of the caste class that we in the West know of as the Untouchables. But now he’s confident that he can go anywhere, that he won’t be judged, that he belongs. His transformation is amazing.

I also met Prema, a Community Health Worker at the Zakhira slum. She talked about how she helped a woman who went into labor at night (and whose female doctor wouldn’t treat her, despite the fact the woman already paid 20,000 rupees for the service, because it was nighttime and the doctor’s husband wouldn’t let her leave). Prema helped deliver the breached baby, and then went to the doctor’s office the next day to yell at her and demand the money back, in front of all the patients. For a women in her position this is usually unthinkable, but Prema was brimming with confidence (and fueled by rage), thanks to her role as a Community Health Worker and slum leader. The doctor was so impressed she offer Prema a job (declined).

My biggest fear as a volunteer is that I won’t contribute at all, that after they’ve taken the time to bring me to their centers, to have people tell me their stories, it will all be for naught.

Most foreign volunteers come to teach English, as part of a medical mission, or to renovate one of the centers based in the slums, but there are three of us in the office researching and writing grants. While we’re in a clean, warm, modern office instead of the slums, you’re still reminded sometimes that you’re in a developing country. Yesterday the lights went out for a few minutes (though the computers stayed on) and no one said a word. Additionally, there is a mouse that likes to dart around the edges of the office. We call him Bobby, and he startles me each time I see him. But he’s quite cute, and I wish I could pet him.

A woman at Zakhira slum coming for the weekly Well Baby clinic that gives our vaccinations.

A Class 12 boy who hopes to attend college next year.

One of the hard-fought-for public latrines. However, they're in need of repair.

One of two employees hired by a man able to expand his wallet-making business thanks to
a microfinance loan garnered with Asha's help. They're watching an NBA game on TV.