Cecilia Woodward
Cecilia Woodward, English teacher at Alphonsa Secondary School in Miraj, spends every afternoon until nearly midnight reaching out to those who have been hurt or grieving from their loss.
"For the last few days I have been accompanying fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters, and have visited nearly 23 villages in this district. Nothing has touched me so much as my experiences visiting these villages, where these people have been rendered homeless, overcome by a wrath of nature.
People lost everything, and were without even enough clothes to cover their families. Mothers used their saris to cover their children. Some men took cloth from their heads so they could collect food. What we see on television is just one part of this emergency. What we see and experience in reality is something that touches the inner core of our hearts.
I've been to such places where women are in a considerable state, with no bed sheets, no clothes for them or their children, nothing to cook. There are people with no water to drink, no food to eat... mind you, they are not beggars -- they are people like you and me.
In some places, women are refusing to accept help, and expressing despair. Many come from good families. We have had to mentally prepare them for distributions. They feel terrible and many refuse to stand in line. We have to tell them that at least we are alive; we have to convince them that it is okay to accept the food.
Many people just need a patient listener. Trauma counseling is critical. Some people are hysterical. One woman broke down when she received food grains and said, 'I came from a home where I've stocked grains, and here I am taking grains today...'
Everyone should know what's happening here."
Savita Mahadeve Agre of Jui, one of the most affected villages, was in her house cooking at night when the muds came flooding into her home, leveling everything she owned.
Savita Mahadeve Agre of Jui
Savita Mahadeve Agre of Jui, one of the most affected villages, was in her house cooking at night when the muds came flooding into her home, leveling everything she owned.
"Fear is still there in the night. I was cooking when it happened; it was about 9 p.m. Everyone was inside their homes at the time because it was raining heavily all day. Suddenly I heard a sound and all the mud came flooding in. The sound was like a plane taking off -- I thought a plane was coming into the house. There was no electricity, no light and continuous rain. When the mud came in, we all ran away.
When we ran out of our homes, it was dark and the water was up to our necks. Trees were uprooted. We were too frightened to swim; we were walking through the water so we wouldn't be washed away. The mud was coming for fifteen minutes continuously.
We are normally a self-sufficient community. We have our own houses, our own land; we worked well before. Now, we have nothing to sleep on, no clothes, no livelihood; our land is destroyed. We have no work or means for income.
I don't want to leave this area. We have so much here. It's an emotional attachment; we don't feel comfortable leaving. I don't know how to express what to express. The fear is there. We can still hear the sounds."
Sharad Mane, 10th grade student and fisherman
Miraj Sharad Mane, a 10th grade student, jumped off his fishing boat during the floods to save a child drowning in 4 feet of water.
"I am a fisherman and come from a fishing community. My father is a daily wage earner [a casual laborer] and my mother accompanies my father sometimes for labor work when we have a need for money. I have two older sisters, one older brother, and a younger brother who is mute and deaf. He is 15 years old and goes to a special school.
On the day of the flooding, I and a team of fisherman were called to rescue families under water.
I was in my boat with my two brothers and two other men when we saw a child under 4 feet of water. I jumped in the water and swam towards him. The child kept shouting, 'Bacham! Bacham!' (Help! Help!). The minute I touched the boy he hugged me. When we were out of the water, I removed water from his stomach. I then handed him to the military team.
I was thrilled to save him. I told the police that if they meet his parents to please let me meet them...but I have never seen the boy since.
Since the floods, I have seen water in nearly everyone's house. Now, I see children without their books and school bags. Some kids have books but no bag; or, if they have a bag, they do not have even a pencil."