My stomach twisted. I jumped backwards, but not far enough. The monkey had estimated its attack perfectly; I was helpless. Then, with a yelp that might have come from me or from the monkey, it suddenly jerked back away from me. The Indian boy who owned it had yanked the leash back to protect me, and was now trying to keep the animal from attacking again. My heart pounded furiously; I stumbled backward, getting as far away as I could. But somewhere, a deep sense of satisfaction rose within me, and a smile crept onto my face.

I had caught it all on video.

India was the sixth country so far, on our thirteen country adventure, and I had been itching for some real life-threatening danger. Hong Kong and Japan had felt like Disneyland, and Malaysia and Thailand almost put me to sleep. I was restless. Little did I know, in the weeks to come, monkey attacks would become the least of my dangers.

My mother and I had cast off on this world tour with one purpose: to set up a global network for human rights education. Her organization, Youth for Human Rights International, had hired me on to document the affair. I thought, Great! An excuse to travel around the world, all expenses paid!

It wasn’t going to be that easy.

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