Lucky – part 2 the second best day ever……

Early the next day Carrie and I emerged from the hotel to find Lucky and the rickety rickshaw, out front. Lucky was wearing his old ripped and ill-fitting clothes but bursting with pride. He told us his mother was so happy, she wanted us to come by their house and he wanted to take us there. On top of that, he was planning to attend the big Festival ( an annual, week long, huge street festival that was happening on our street and had been going on for the days previously) He was going to go in the evening in his new clothes!!!

We went out for the day with him and another rickshaw driver – an old man, because we were going very long distances and it was just too much with the two of us on the one bike. We saw the Red Fort and toured around, had a delicious lunch at a place Lucky took us to and all in all had another very nice day in Agra. I bought a very expensive tapestry at a swanky store (hope it looks as good as it did in the store) and Carrie bought two rings – one for herself and one for her daughter. On the way back we said goodbye to the old guy – the other rickshaw driver, and Lucky took us to his home. It was a few kilometers from where we were staying and where he works – he walks there and back and picks up the rickshaw or his postcards and books at the Taj Mahal. As we entered the neighborhood, again it was clear that we were in unchartered territory – a place where tourists just are not seen. Children ran alongside of Lucky's rickshaw – I don’t even think these kids see rickshaws ( only rich people can afford to pay for a ride), let alone see white women. Lucky was bursting – first because he had his rickshaw so far away from where it was supposed to be and he could show it off and second because he was the local celebrity with his two western friends. By the time we pulled up in front of his government sponsored shared house in a very poor neighborhood, there was already a crowd surging through the door of his apartment. We had no idea who belonged, the crowd simply came in with us. Then something truly magical happened. Lucky’s mom made eye contact with me and ran towards me giving me the warmest, longest hug I have ever had. She was so grateful for us having made her child feel special. Then she saw Carrie and again the hugging. All of our fears about how our gift would be interpreted were dissipated in that moment. Here was a mom who only wanted her great hardworking kid to have some personal reward, rewards she would have never been able to give him herself. His joy was her joy and that hug brings tears to my eyes as I write this. It was as warm as the hugs from the Burmese moms last year who were leaving their children at the orphanage where we were working. Hugs from moms who want so much for their children and, through circumstances, just can’t deliver. You do not need any common language to understand. Lucky’s mom and the Burmese mom’s hugs and tears will live in me forever and it is in these moments that I know I am in the right place at the right time.

Lucky’s home was full of people of all ages, more kept coming through the door as word spread through the neighborhood and Lucky’s mom took money out of her bra (that is where all Indian women keep their cash), and gave it to an older boy to go out and get some sweets for us. We insisted no no no. We determined which boys were his siblings – they had just returned from school, his sister returned as we were leaving, took a few photos and had to leave quickly as Lucky was in jeopardy from having taken the rickshaw out of the territory.  

He returned us to our Hotel and he told us he wanted to meet us at the Festival later that evening. We came out of the hotel around 7:30 pm and there he was – dressed in his new jeans and the sweater he loved so much. He was about 6 inches taller than he had been that afternoon and so so proud. He looked like a super cool rich kid. One of the guys who work the nightshift on the front desk asked if he could come with us and so the four of us headed to the Fair. Carrie and I had already been a few times – it is a huge affair, with entertainment – some of the top acts in India and a full midway with Ferris wheel and assorted rides and mercantile booths from all the states in India – sponsored by the government and chosen to represent the best wares from their state. Carrie and I had done some serious damage in the Kashmir booth earlier – both of us buying jackets with the incredible Kashmir embroidery and also shawls. I got the address of the shopkeeper who invited me to come and stay with him for the month of April. 'Paradise on Earth’ is how Kasmiries describe Kashmir. It is only one of many invitations to Kashmir I have received….so little time…..

Anyway, we paid our entrance fee – 10 rupees each and proceeded to work our way through the festival. It was clear and should have been obvious to us, that although this is an annual affair, poor Lucky had never been there before. He said he had but obviously the price and the clothing would have been such a deterrent. His family would not have been able to afford the 60 rupees – ($1.50) for the 6 of them and it was only when Lucky got his new clothes did he even imagine that he could go to the festival. We take so much for granted….and this story just gets better and better. Carrie and I were having so much fun watching him see the world through new eyes. We bought ice cream and candy floss and I took him and the other guy on the Ferris wheel. We paid the exorbitant rate – 25 rupees each - .50 cents – a lot for India where meals cost 30 rupees for tourists and 10 rupees for Indians. I asked Lucky if he had been before and he said yes. Full of teenaged bravado, so away we went. As we took off it was obvious again that there was no way he had been on anything so wild before. It was really fun watching him try and remain calm, try to find Carrie in the crowd – she refused to come as she hates heights – and just watch him take it all in. The Ferris wheel was incredibly unsafe – no doors, no chains to stop you from flinging out as it travelled around at a high speed with each car stuffed to the brim. Welcome to India! We all survived and eventually made our way through every exposition and musical event and shopped and had our picture taken with countless Indians – don’t quite know what they do with these photos but everywhere we go, people will ask if they can have their photos taken with us – First the husband and Carrie, then the wife and Carrie, then the family and me or the guys and me…..think we might be on a few illicit websites eventually. Lucky and the sweet hotel guy were so proud to be able to be with the celebrities but most of all it was our incredible opportunity to be able to share in Lucky’s second best day ever.

As we left the fair grounds, Carrie and the hotel guy walked ahead and Lucky and I were walking to the street chatting. As we stepped out onto the street, a rickshaw driver approached and said –" hey rickshaw, rickshaw – you want ride???"  I motioned ‘no’ as always and the driver approached Lucky. “Hey hey you want ride? You want ride???”  The moment had been lost on me until I noticed Lucky had stopped walking. I went back to him and he stood in that street where he has spent most of his life and looked at me. “Did you see that, did you see that???”  He asked me excitedly. “He asked me for Rickshaw – He asked me for Rickshaw”. I looked at him, trying to take it in and then realized what was happening. “It is because of my clothes, it is because of my clothes!!!”  “He thought I could take a rickshaw, that is my friend, he doesn’t even know it is me – he thinks I could take Rickshaw!”  Lucky still hadn’t moved. He was looking down at himself and touching his perfectly fitting designer jeans and his fashionable sweater and saying “It is because of my clothes.”

Eventually he was able to call out to his friend and his friend circled back and they shared an excited moment together. It was another one of those life affirming moments for me too. Small actions change lives. Forever. I have been blessed to see it in my policing and I was fortunate enough to have incredible role models last year with Laura and Sharon helping to show me the way to selflessness and now, through Carrie’s suggestion of such a small investment, we were able to watch a boy change his idea of himself forever.

Here in India the answer to most questions is “Why Not?” and I love that so much. Lucky got a chance to feel, even for just a few days, “Why Not?”

I mentioned him sharing his story that night with his friend, the other Rickshaw driver. The next day we were leaving and the whole little Rickshaw and postcard seller community came to our hotel with Lucky to see us off. It was really special to see how happy they were for him. They are all ages – from around 13 to 60, and they shared in his happiness and his sadness because we were leaving. I could not help comparing their shared joy – people from the lowest of low castes and means, with the jealousy and negativity of that first shopkeeper who was not happy that this Rickshaw kid was getting attention and gifts.

Mom Carrie will continue the relationship. She cried as she left and there will be many more Lucky boys in her wake. Lucky from Agra now has a great loving mom at home and one in Canada who is still pining for his future.