More Than Just a Mission: My Bihar Flood Response Journey

The monsoon rains had lashed down relentlessly, turning the fertile plains of Bihar, Orissa, and Assam into a vast inland sea. News reports painted a grim picture: millions displaced, crops destroyed, and entire villages cut off from the outside world. It was amidst this devastation that I found myself on a train hurtling towards Kolkata, a knot of apprehension and determination twisting in my stomach. As part of the Flood Response Team, my mission was to bolster hygiene promotion efforts and support the brave men and women already on the ground.

Kolkata Chaos: Recruitment and Realities

The first few days in Kolkata were a baptism by fire. Our makeshift office buzzed with frantic activity; a hive of recruitment interviews, logistical planning, and resource allocation. Stacks of files detailing the scale of the disaster competed for space with maps plastered across walls, each pin a desperate plea for help. There was a palpable urgency in the air, a constant reminder of the human cost of the raging floods.

During a lull in the recruitment marathon, I found myself sharing a cup of chai with a seasoned colleague returning from the field. His stories offered a stark glimpse into the realities of working in Bihar. We discussed the logistical nightmares of navigating flooded roads, the heartbreaking scenes of devastation, and the indomitable spirit of the people they were working tirelessly to help. His tales, laced with both frustration and quiet admiration, served as a potent preparation for what lay ahead.

Muzaffarpur Mishap: A Lesson in Resourcefulness

Finally, the day arrived for me to head to the heart of the crisis - Muzaffarpur. The train journey offered a welcome respite from the frenetic pace of Kolkata. Gazing out the window, emerald rice fields gave way to vast stretches of murky water, a stark reminder of the disaster's reach. Sharing a compartment with a senior colleague, the conversation flowed easily, swapping stories and anecdotes that eased the apprehension gnawing at me.

Reaching Muzaffarpur, a bustling city now partially submerged, was an assault on the senses. The air hung heavy with the damp smell of stagnant water and the cacophony of car horns and shouts created a constant background noise. While waiting for colleagues arriving from another town, I decided to stretch my legs and grab a quick bite at a local stall. A momentary lapse in vigilance, however, turned into a minor disaster. Returning to the car, I discovered my bag, containing essential documents and personal belongings, inexplicably missing. Panic surged through me, but the driver, a calm and resourceful man, sprang into action. With a few pointed questions and a dash of local knowledge, we tracked down the missing bag at a nearby tire repair shop. It turned out, the repairman had "borrowed" it while we were away, mistaking it for abandoned property. While a few items were missing, the bag's retrieval was a minor victory, a testament to the driver's quick thinking and a reminder of the importance of staying alert in unfamiliar surroundings.

Darbhanga and Beyond: Discovering Resilience

The journey onwards to Darbhanga offered a glimpse of a different Bihar. Lush green fields, dotted with villages seemingly untouched by the floods, lined the road. The picturesque towns of Darbhanga and Madhubani, with their narrow streets and colorful houses, exuded a quiet charm. But the underlying reality was undeniable – the devastation wasn't limited to major cities. Conversations with locals revealed stories of hardship and loss, yet their spirit remained unbroken. There was a sense of quiet dignity in their resilience, a determination to rebuild their lives brick by brick.

One such encounter that resonated deeply was with a young boy named Rambharose. Barefoot and wiry, he ferried us across a muddy river in a small boat, his expertise evident in the way he navigated the treacherous currents. His quick wit and infectious smile were a welcome distraction from the surrounding gloom. Learning that he had dropped out of school to support his family, I offered him some money for his services. His reply, delivered with a shrug and a hint of pride, was a poignant reminder of the harsh realities faced by many children in these flood-ravaged regions. "Here, I am earning money daily," he said, "why study?" His words became a thought-provoking counterpoint to the value we often place on formal education, highlighting the importance of resourcefulness and the ability to contribute in the face of adversity.

(To be continued...)