Sent: Thursday, October 13, 2005 2:17 PM
To: A Passage to India
Subject: Mail from Maharashtra

READER'S ADVISORY: This email attempts to account for the past 6 weeks of activities in India, in about 12 pages. I am very sorry to pack all of this information into one entry, and promise to deliver bite-size updates in the future. Meanwhile, perhaps you could read a page or so a day until I write to you again? J Good luck. I will be quite impressed if you finish!........................

SMACK!- go my hands as I clamp down hard on the mosquito scourge in my bedroom. Aaah, so this is life in the "field". What field? Well the development field of course. Welcome to the tribal belt of central India. I'm writing to you now from my cement bunker at the NGO, Amhi Amachya Arogyasathi, which in Marathi means "We for our Health". I'm located in Kurkheda, a small town in Gadchiroli District, the farthest eastern district of Maharashtra, the "Great Nation" state of India. I have begun the fourth week of my field experience here in Maharashtra, and things are going quite well, relatively. By relatively I mean I am quite fed up with certain things here, such as the mosquitoes, and the lack of privacy, and my semi-public bathroom, and the fact that visitors keep using up all of my water. But other than that life here is really good. Before I launch into too many complaints let me give you a brief background of how I got here.

So when we last left off I was writing to you from the Indicorps orientation in Ahmedabad, Gujarat. That was about a month ago. After that email we did a lot of amazing things in orientation. We had some exceptional speakers come and deliver lectures on subjects such as the cooperative movement in India- delivered by a professor at the Indian Institute of Management Ahmedabad; the structure of India's government and civil service- by a current Indian Administration Service (IAS) Officer; a lecture on contemporary Ghandian thought and the Indian NGO sector, by the Vice Chancellor of the Gujarat Vidyapith (a college here). We also took trips to the Amul Factory and IRMA- the Institute of Rural Management, a management school which trains students to work in rural India- quite an interesting place. Amul is the country's largest dairy cooperative, composed of millions of small farmers. The Amul story is quite an amazing one. They work through a vast network of small dairy farmers, and by small, I mean local villagers who own one or two cows and sell their milk to the Amul people, who collect milk from millions of farmers across the country and then transport the milk to a few processing plants around the country, where they are pasteurized, packaged, and shipped out for resale. We learned about how Amul is supporting these small farmers through various means, by providing health care to the farmers, their families, and their cows, and also by providing training and guaranteed prices for the farmers' milk. All of this has allowed for Amul to be one of the world's largest cooperatives and managing this entire system is an organizational and logistical feat of epic proportions. In addition to these trips we had a few more "experiential" learning exercises in Ahmedabad. On one such trip we stayed in a slum, the Tekra, however this time instead of having partners we stayed alone with a family. The slum was quite an interesting experience, not really what I imagined a slum to be. The families that were selected for us to stay with were all pretty well-off relatively. Thus most of us had electricity and cement floors. My house was even nicer than most. The father in my family had a steady job at the electricity company, and thus a steady income. We had cable tv, tile floors, and music. In fact, the little kids insisted that I dance with them, so I pulled out some of my best bhangra moves that would have made Brown SASA tear up a little, as they do every time I dance. Our objective in the slum was to follow around one of the children in our family to experience what he or she went through in a typical day. My kid, Chetan, took me around his neighborhood. He showed me where the poorer people lived, which was usually near the river where everybody's refuse and waste was discarded. The lines between those who were new immigrants to the slum and those who had been there for some time (such as my family who had been there for 20 years) were clearly marked. The new arrivals lived on dirt streets, and their floors were usually dirt too. They had no running water or latrines, so they all went outside to use the 'sandas' (do #2). It was interesting to notice that in my house they had a toilet, but they also went outside to use the toilet. The topic of sanitation is extremely important, not only in the slums, but in village life also, and I will return to it later. At the end of this day-long stay we all gathered with our children at the community center run by an NGO in the area, called Manav Sadhna. Indicorps and Manav Sadhna have a very close relationship and often cooperate on projects with fellows. Manav Sadhna works on many issues in this slum including children's informal education, women's empowerment, banking, and communal harmony. It is run by a very inspiring man by the name of Jayeshbhai Patel. His father, Ishwara Patel is a winner of the Padma Bhushree, and also happens to be the founder of the Environmental Sanitation Institute, where the Indicorps orientation was located.

Another experiential learning activity was our "lucid dream" day, in which we were counseled by two other Americans, Mark and John, who have spent the past seven months undertaking various development projects, on how to live our lives as though we were dreaming. In this "lucid" dream as they called it, we should feel empowered to do whatever it is that we would normally not do because of inhibitions and social norms. For those of you who have seen the movie "Waking Life", the basic premise is similar, of course assuming that movie even had a basic premise. Our goal in that one day was to roam the city of Ahmedabad and perform random acts of kindness and service, as well as to just have a generally good time. We were once again split into groups of three as we were for the Amazing Race event (I had the same group by chance, with Shital Shah and Christina Mathews) and let loose on the city. I have to admit at first we had no idea how to go about doing whatever we wanted. We started off in spurts and sputters.

We asked chaiwallahs on the side of the road if we could help to make and serve chai (tea) to their customers. They were confused, but obliged. Then we approached random people on bicycle rikshaws and asked if we could ride their bikes. I helped a man to push his newspaper cart across a busy road. Christina gave a poor man a package of biscuits and touched his feet in a sign of respect. Shital accepted a dare to go into the Netherlands business support unit and ask for help in starting a reptilian pet shop in Ahmedabad. After thoroughly confusing the office workers, who did not understand why a group of Indian Americans had approached them for business support, we discovered that the man working in the office was another Keralite and had to figure out a way to let him know about our ruse. Afterwards it was time to meet up with the other Indicorps fellows, so rather than travel like "normal" people in some common mode of transportation, such as an autorickshaw, we decided to ask a random man on his motorcycle if he would drive the three of us to our destination. He readily obliged and the four of us were off, racing through the city streets and having a wildly fun time. I have pictures to prove it. This experience of "lucid dreaming" taught me a few things, besides building my general confidence in the Indian public. For one thing, people here are so much more open and generous than one would imagine at first sight, especially in a crowded busy city like Ahmedabad. It was heartening to know that, without explaining who we were as American tourists, we could get people to do the strangest things for us on the assumption that we were just a bunch of general weirdos.

At the end of orientation, it was time for the fifteen fellows to leave the ESI, or "Indicorphanage" as I lovingly dubbed it, and head out to our project sites. We scattered across the country to places such as West Bengal, Rajasthan, Delhi, Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, several places in Gujarat, and of course me, in Maharashtra. After an overnight train ride and a four hour bus journey I found myself at the Amhi Amachya Arogyasathi campus. Since September 14th, when I arrived, I've been immersed in many different activities, as part of my second "orientation" to my project site and the work of my NGO. I have attended a bunch of campus, including a state-level conference in Nagpur on the Right to Food, attended by many activists and lawyers, from organizations such as the Indian Center for Human Rights and the Law, and Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA, they're doing great work opposing the Narmada Dam). The purpose of this conference was to build networks and a strategy to pressure the government of Maharashtra to implement its emergency food schemes to combat starvation and malnutrition that are rampant in several parts of the state, especially in the tribal areas. One method they have tried to do is to force the government through the High Court to pass a "Right to Food" and "Right to Employment" law, which will require the government to actually distribute the grains that it stores in its warehouses to those who are starving, rather than allowing gross starvation to continue. It was an impressive conference to say the least, though I could understand little of the Hindi/Marathi mix.

It turns out that my NGO is very very well connected after having established itself in this tribal area for the past 20 odd years. For this reason many visitors pass through the campus and there are constant trainings and meetings taking place here, usually outside my room. Hence, my "quasi-public bathroom" and frequent water shortages. Some other interesting conferences/ workshops I have attended include one on Joint Forest Management, a relatively new government program which aims to decentralize management and control of forests to the villagers, to reach a mutually beneficial resolution to the problems of deforestation and restricted access to forest produce for the villagers. Under the joint forest management scheme, the villagers, especially tribal villages in the jungles (i.e. the ones I am working with) are given more control over their forest areas, especially to prevent their destruction by outside groups, such as contractors who come in and harvest valuable items such as bamboo and tendu leaves (both legally and illegally). The villagers, because their lives depend on healthy forests, have a vested interest in managing these ecoystems wisely, and have proven themselves capable in the few instances were Joint forest management has been effectively implemented. Moreover, because these are mainly tribal villages, they have, for the most part, lived in harmony with their environment for the ages now, relatively isolated from the external Indian society. As with the "Right to Food" campaign, the Joint Forest Management is another example of good government policies, but poor implementation. The head of my NGO, Dr. Satish Gogulwar, has repeatedly told me that the type of activism they do is not to oppose the government but rather to get it implement the policies and schemes it has already promised, but never delivered. A major problem in Indian development is that while on paper the laws and social programs are wonderful, in practice they are often derailed due to corruption and mismanagement, thus causing relatively little funds to actually trickle down to their intended beneficiaries. The objective of conferences and activist networks such as these is to pressure the government to make good on its own promises.

Another workshop that I attended was about the revitalization of local health traditions, put on by an NGO from Bangalore. They brought together a group of traditional village healers (known as vaidus) and worked on several issues with them, including documenting their oral knowledge about medicinal uses of plants, and attempted to create a group of these vaidus who can rely on eachother for mutual support, much like a self-help group. The aim of this NGO is to strengthen the position of the vaidus because they provide a valuable service to their villages, often for free, with their knowledge of medicinal/ herbal remedies for common ailments that villagers face. The role of vaidus is crucial because often there is no formal health care available to the villagers, because they are either cut off from any good health care facility, or it is far too expensive for their routine needs. The vaidus have traditionally provided in-kind services and their knowledge is passed down orally to the next generation. However, as the villages have been modernizing, and societal views are changing, traditional village healers are becoming less popular and their art is dying out. It is a serious issue because the allopathic system has not yet filled the gap created by the departure of the vaidus, and often the villagers cannot afford to get good treatment. I think you get the picture.

A final workshop I attended, which was the most interesting by far, was on Gender training for some of the staff at my NGO and nearby NGO's. Abbha, a group from Bombay, led by Dr. Mohan Deshpande, arrived in Kurkheda and lead a three day workshop for twenty men. They covered topics such as women's health, reproductive health, gender roles in village society, domestic violence, addiction, and anatomy. But the most fascinating part was the methodology they used. You see, although I still understand very little Marathi (that's a whole other email waiting to be written) I could follow so much of this workshop because it involved singing, skits, drawing, and numerous other participatory activities. the three presenters are all musically inclined and break into song and drumming every few minutes in order to teach their message. They have incorporated arts so well into their "curriculum" that they keep their audience gripped, even those who must overcome huge language barriers. I especially enjoyed this workshop because (as many of you know) I spent the better part of my final year in college researching female empowerment in north India for my senior thesis. It was thus immensely interesting for me to observe as 20 Indian men were being trained to be more "gender-sensitive". Haha, what a riot! After the past two months of being trained to be gender-sensitive myself, i.e. how to mold myself into Indian gender roles, do not sit next to women, do not talk directly to women, do not try to shake hands with women, be careful about looking at women in the villages, etc. etc., it was so interesting to now be discussing things like women's work, (which is enormously harder than men's work, especially in villages), women's reproduction, and the role of men in changing these things- i.e. reaching "gender equality". In all of these discussions, the voice of women was notoriously absent- a fact that bugged Dr. Deshpande greatly, as he had wished that women staff would also have been present at the workshop, thus greatly enriching the discussions. If any of you are interested you should look up this group, they are conducting trainings like this all over North India, it is very cool stuff.

And finally, what has life otherwise been like here? Very very good. I am so pleased with the people in my NGO. For the most part they are very kind, cheerful people who are willing to humor and teach me better Marathi. They are committed to their work and are indeed doing some amazing stuff here. Just a quick rundown of what this NGO does, they are active in about 180 villages and run things from women's self groups, adolescent girl's groups, a traditional birth attendant program (based on Dr. Abhay Bang's model from SEARCH, for those of you who've heard of it, I'll discuss it much more in the future), herbal medicine cultivation, and livelihood and health awareness activities. The basic premise of "We for Our Health" is that health is affected by so many other factors such as environment, financial well-being, and political participation, so they have their hand in all of these things. In the next email I will go into much more detail about my actual project, both because this email is getting far too long, and because I will probably have a more clear picture to paint for you by then. Suffice it to say that I'm going to be doing some very interesting work on village "development" which involves intellectual property rights, micro-planning, and environmental protection. One thing that I've already done is deliver a short speech in Marathi, while sweating profusely as I stumbled through the pre-written text, to a group of high school girls who were getting awards for doing well in their exams.

The place I'm living in is soo beautiful. Basically it looks like Kerala without coconut trees, but with beautiful mountains dotting the skyline (well not really mountains, rather really really big hills). There is lush greenery everywhere, including paddy fields. Herds of cattle continually block the roads, and the people stare at me wherever I go. it's pretty wonderful. The "tribal" people, are no different looking than any other Indian villagers. Their villages are not modernized. A few of the houses have electricity. There is no pavement. There is no running water. No tv's, at least not that I've seen. In many ways they are similar to any other very poor Indian villages. But the tribes are outside of the caste system. They are not considered Hindu. They practice their own festivals and have their own gods. They have their own languages, such as Gondi, which is the language spoken in my village. But they wear traditional clothing, saris for the women and shirt and pants for the men. The children go to the village public school and the adults work in the fields. I hope this dispels many of the connotations that "tribal" might conjure, because I definitely came into this project expecting the term "tribal" to be describing something much different.

And a final addendum. You should probably know that this area of India, i.e. Central India, is involved in a "People's War" between the extremist naxalites (violent communists) and the government, that spans across at least four states. This fighting has been going on for the past 20 or 30 years and has involved much bloodshed, mainly of tribal people, who are caught in the crossfire. Because the village I am working in is in a naxalite area it is not perfectly safe for me to be going there. The buses have stopped running on the road to the village because the naxalites stop the buses and burn them. They also shoot at the police and other government workers. My NGO is quite safe because it's been here for so long and is so well known. However, because of my status as an "American" (and the Naxalites' predictable dislike of America) they are scared to let me stay in the village overnight, although it would help my project out a lot. For the time being I am pretty dependent on others to drive me the 30 kms. to the village either in a jeep or on a motorbike. Today, for the first time, I was able to return from the village on my own in a private "commander" taxi that does a shuttle route on that road. Because it's not government-run, it is safe from the naxalites. I have been advised to tell people around here that I'm from Kerala (Main Kerala se aaya) and that I speak Malayalam (Majya gharri Malayalam boltat), which of course are both half-true. J Needless to say, my trip home today was quite safe and uneventful. Upon hearing I was from Kerala the other passengers soon lost interest (unlike when they hear I'm American) because apparently they have come to expect that South Indians are terrible at Hindi and can't even attempt to speak Marathi. Muhahaha, how right they are! Until next time friends, I hope all is well with you, in whatever part of the world this email finds you, and know that I miss you dearly.

God bless,
Sushil

October 13, 2005