rriving at Home of Hope orphanage after an eighteen-hour flight, the girls were waiting for us. The sun yet to rise, they peered through windows to take in three unshaven surfers carrying surfboards and bags filled with gifts and needed supplies.
After a short nap, we emerged from our rooms to an amazing site: a hallway full of girls hiding behind one another, giggling. I’d say it took ten, maybe twenty-seconds for them to warm up to us and start chattering away in Hindi. From then on it was a goof-ball fest: we played games, sang and danced, shoot hoops, and I let them borrow my digital camera (800 shots gone like that).
All this in 90° equatorial heat that would melt titanium. No matter, all were in good spirits and talk of the upcoming surf safari was uppermost on our minds.
These girls came from tragic circumstances, forced into begging and prostitution, their childhoods lost. In fact, Sriya, a four year-old girl that joined us on the trip, had been left abandoned on a busy street corner just four months before. Now, though, to the surf trip itself and the healing powers of surfing…
