Roshan Vikas

Last week I sat on the floor with a task force we’ve formed at Roshan Vikas and led a discussion on business development. Anyone could see I stuck out like a sore thumb in this group – I’m not a woman, I don’t wear a burqa, my Hindi is about as good as the average 2^nd grader in India, and I use terms such as “business development.” Still – using a lot of smiles and head nods (doesn’t matter which way – they all mean “yes” here) I was able to facilitate a productive meeting to debate solutions to help Roshan Vikas improve its loan collection process.

This is a far cry from the days when I’d sit in endless meetings pretending to take notes on a potential multimillion dollar preferred structure convertible-debt transaction. This is better. The meetings are still endless and I honestly cannot find a way to sit comfortably on the floor – but at the end of the day, the difference is I’m not pretending about anything here. I do care. We’re discussing the very survival of my NGO and I’m thrilled to play a role in helping shape the groundwork for Roshan Vikas to continue improving the livelihoods of urban Muslim women in Hyderabad’s slums.

To backtrack a bit – my NGO, Roshan Vikas provides this ultra-marginalized community with access to financial services, skills development, and other livelihood promotion activities. To achieve this vision RV had adopted a set of guiding principles that I felt were best expressed in this funnel line object rather than in straightforward bullet form (it’s the former investment banker in me):

While women's empowerment is nothing unique in the NGO world, the other two aspects are key differences between Roshan Vikas and most other microfinance organizations.  Most microfinance organizations focus almost exclusively on providing loans and other financial products.  RV has a slightly different tact in that it wants to promote savings or “capital formation” as a prerequisite to lending.  Encouraging the poor to save seems like an obvious thing to do, but it’s shocking (actually alarming) how many microfinance outfits (especially the for-profit ones) seem to forget this and became obsessed with “selling” loans to individuals that may or may not necessarily need them (another “subprime mortgage crisis” in the making?).

The second aspect – community ownership – is also unique because it means that RV is actually owned by its membership.  RV has a thrift cooperative ownership structure in which the women that RV focuses on lending to actually manage the organization. The capital to operate the organization and extend loans is also contributed by this membership base of women who are all organized into self-help groups that meet weekly. I won’t get into too much detail about how this works structurally but what it does mean is that Roshan Vikas is a very flat organization where all decision making is consensus based (very democratic, but also very painfully slow).  

I should mention that in addition to providing loans, Roshan Vikas is also involved in artisan’s crafts skills development.  Essentially we form groups of local artisans and provide training and access to distribution channels for their goods.  I’m not really all that involved with that part of the organization since it involves creativity and artistic talent and I’m more of an excel kind of guy.

Anyhow, back to me.  So Roshan Vikas has been around for about 5 years now and has been growing dramatically during that period.  It went from 0 to 19,000 members very rapidly and is now running into growth problems that are preventing the organization from making the next jump in scale to ~40,000 members by 2010. RV stopped turning a profit recently and is beginning to suffer from very classic growth related issues that most small businesses face.  There are hundreds of small issues – but the essence of the problem is that RV is now losing money despite an expanding membership base (i.e. we have more customers, but we are making less money per customer).

I’ve only been here a short while, but my perspective is that the organization has grown so quickly that controls, human skills, technology, and other resources have not kept up and this is acting as a bottleneck to further growth. My role is to coordinate an “intervention” to identify where the bottlenecks are, what can be done about them, and then execute – all by March (our target month for turning a profit).  I work closely with a “core group” that includes Roshan Vikas’s CEO, an external turnaround specialist management consultant, auditing firms, a few key staff members, and other experts as needed. When I first started my NGO mentor asked me to serve as a “change agent” because of my unique status as a foreigner with a private-sector business background. I still have no idea how to be a “change agent”, but I have quickly learned that my outsider status really does give me certain privileges (and challenges) that allow me to propose and execute new ideas far easier than the more entrenched staff.

Progress can be slow – and sometimes it’s very easy to lose hope. I’ve struggled a lot with the defeatist attitude of so many of the staff who are very good at presenting me with problems, but tend to shrug their shoulders when I ask about solutions. Still, we are already starting to see some encouraging results. Our repayment rate has climbed from 81% to 97% this past week and I know there is still plenty of room for improvement.

How much experience do I have in NGO turnarounds? Absolutely none. My background is in PowerPoint presentation and mind numbing Excel models, not microfinance consulting. This used to worry me a lot, but I’ve come to realize that 40% of my role is simply common sense. The other 60% is persistence. I’m here to accelerate change and that simply won’t happen unless someone is constantly hammering for it. In other words, I’ve come half way around the world to be a pest. My parents would agree – I’m the right man for the job.

Wish me luck.

Posted by Sanjay Sharma

Behind the Scenes of "Wow! What's that sound?"

“I want to be...I want to study English really well and I want to have a big company, a big computer company and employ lots of people.” --Chandru, 4th standard (translated from Tamil)

Chandru is in the 4th standard and studies at a government aided Tamil-medium school in Chennai. He can barely read and write in English, yet he has been studying it for four years. He is one of the child artists in the pilot episode of the educational English DVD series Aid India’s English team released on Tuesday, December 8th in Chennai at Madras Terrace House.

Chandru’s father is an auto driver and his mom is a domestic helper. They live in a slum a 10-minute walk from Aid India’s office. Driving or walking on the main road, you wouldn’t know the slum existed. It is set back off the main road, down a side street. Turn right at the small stall and enter a narrow dark alley, you’ve reached the slum. Chennai has some very visible slum areas, especially near the river and the beach, but nothing like I’ve seen in India’s other major metropolitans. Most of Chennai’s slums are hidden and integrated into almost every neighborhood, but just behind that alley you always pass and dare not look into. Around that corner that houses a garbage heap. And inside that old dilapidated building that used to be a Café Coffee Day. It’s there...down there. Just around that dark corner, hidden, yet in plain sight if you look for it.

I first visited Chandru’s house after our first day of shooting. I escorted him home, except that I ended up chasing him home because he didn’t want to be bothered with adults accompanying him. He undoubtedly knows the area and all the people living in it like the back of his hand. Yet I felt a responsibility to walk him home. Just as we turned off the main street he took off running. I was shouting asking him to stop, slow down, wait for us...please. It was no use. He just kept turning around and waving, thinking he had seen the last of us. But we didn’t give up; we would make sure he made it home. At the corner of the small stall, a group of guys started giving rude looks and making comments about me (a blonde foreign woman) being there. We asked where Chandru’s house was. Immediately they switched on their best polite gentlemen appearance and walked us down the narrow dark lane, stepping over people lounging in the path, inching between water pumps and houses, and weaving between the odd chicken, crying toddler and woman beating clothes. After turning down several even narrower and darker lanes, we reached a group of young men surrounding Chandru asking him about his new status as a movie star. After one day of shooting, he was already famous.

The next day while I was escorting Chandru home, a male colleague from the office accompanied me for safety. We held onto the strap on Chandru’s backpack so he wouldn’t run off this time. The third night our shooting ran very late and we were taking Chandru home after 11pm. Three of us walked him home, two ladies, one man...and I, the foreigner, was the only one that knew how to get in and get out of the slum, the only known face to Chandru’s neighbors. It was only after we had dropped off Chandru, apologized to his mom for keeping him late and we were safely back out on the main road that I got scolded for having ever walked him home. Ignorance is definitely bliss in this scenario. While my colleagues could understand the passing comments as I walked through the slum, I was unaware, not of the comments, but of the content of the comments. I can choose naïveté and boldly ignore such situations. I’m never 100% comfortable walking down dark alleys in any country, but I have never felt unsafe in Chennai. As a foreigner, perhaps I should be more cautious. However, it is precisely my naïveté and my lack of certain cultural knowledge that allows me the privilege of accepting unknown circumstances without judgment. However, my colleagues were too aware of the situation, and I hazard a guess that next time, they will send someone else to drop him.

It’s the feeling of being so at home with your environment and surroundings that seemingly difficult situations become easy to navigate. And yet, it is being far from home that allows expats access to new and different experiences. It is a complicated juxtaposition between (some level of) cultural integration and knowing that total acceptance by the host culture will never be achieved. Both come with privileges and restrictions attached to them that require constant negotiation—the basis for a unique, interesting and constantly challenging expat life.

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The Ready to Read program of Eureka Child (the education initiative of Aid India) is producing an English language DVD series. The DVD series is an integral component of the Ready to Read program because it provides necessary audio-visual support by encouraging students to practice speaking, listening, reading and singing in English. This bilingual, Tamil-English, DVD will contain 12 episodes threaded together by a group of students, their traveling magician friend and a forest creature. Each episode will introduce the characters to English sounds, reading activities, new vocabulary and original songs.

In addition to providing the educational context and reasons behind why we made the pilot, this short behind the scenes documentary includes interviews with the child artists, entertaining video snippets, bloopers and behind the scenes outtakes. We are hoping to transform this pilot episode into a 12 episode educational DVD series as soon as we secure additional funding.

Behind the Scenes of "Wow! What's that sound?" from Kirsten Anderson on Vimeo.

Wow! What's that sound? - A 5 minute teaser from Kirsten Anderson on Vimeo.

You can also find Ready to Read's DVD initiative on kickstarter.com.

Once complete, the DVD series will be a key component in Eureka Child’s English program and will be distributed to rural schools across the state. The program will have an initial reach of 250 schools, or approximately 20,000 children in rural Tamil Nadu. Our objective is to increase the number of students who can read sentences in 5th standard to 50% from 16%, an increase of 200%. We plan to extend our outreach to interested schools and will partner with other NGOs. In addition it will be available to the general public through Eureka Books.

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It is exactly students like Chandru, his friends at his Tamil-medium school, and his peers in his neighborhood that the Ready to Read program and the DVD series is targeting. Improving the quality and content of second language instruction as well as increasing the exposure to the second language must be a focus at vernacular-medium schools. Without bilingual education, students will never have the chance to achieve their dreams: to become an IAS officer, a police officer, a teacher or to own a own computer company.

This project and getting to know students like Chandru, enable me to call this my home, thousands of miles from the home I grew up knowing.

____________________
Kirsten Anderson has extended her AIF fellowship at Aid India’s Eureka Child, a Tamil Nadu based education initiative working to improve the quality of education for all children across the state. Kirsten has been developing the content and printed materials for the primary English reading curriculum, Ready to Read, as well as working on the production of the pilot episode of the new educational English DVD series.

Interaction: Revised

Part of learning new things is doing them wrong. Sometimes repeatedly. But too often, we celebrate our successes while cowering from our failures. Failures are valuable and deserving of appropriate recognition. Many have caught on to the idea of celebrating failures, as is evident with the astounding success of FAILBlog. Still, driving a car into an empty pool is somehow more forgivable than driving a relationship into the ground.

India has been a succession of failures for me—failures I’m proud of and want to share with others. Communication has been one of my biggest challenges. Ironic, considering I’m fluent in the local language. Maybe because I look Indian and think American, people are less forgiving of my cultural incompetence, rendering social and professional interactions both amusing and painful. The business transaction as it exists in the States does not exist here. Rather, every transaction is a kind of social ballet requiring grace and tact. To cope, I replay my clumsy social fumbles with more apropos endings, practicing for the next time. I call this Interaction: Revised.

Interaction 1: Tiffin Auntie

Context: I get a tiffin, a kind of bento-box lunch, from this auntie who lives down the block. Because Gujaratis put sugar in everything, I told Auntie I had diabetes. Instead of sugar, Auntie put potatoes in everything so I had to break it down for her.

Me: Auntie, potatoes don’t agree with me. Stop putting them in everything. Bye.

Auntie: [Sadface] Oh. Ok.

I get home to find she has put extra of everything in my tiffin so it’ll last me a few extra days. I feel awful.

Interaction: Revised

Me: Auntie, I love your food. I’m getting so fat because it’s delicious! The doctor has actually asked me to cut back on starches because of my blood sugar. Would you mind putting less potatoes in the tiffin?

Auntie: [Smiling] No problem!

Lesson: Treating people like business transactions doesn’t work in India. Everything here is reliant on a complex web of relationships. Tiffin auntie is your Auntie first, and your food source second.

Interaction 2: Slum Youth

Context: We did a group meeting with our youth from all over the city. They come from some of the roughest neighborhoods in Ahmedabad, and they are doing amazing things for their communities, like running health awareness campaigns and organizing youth activists.

Youth: Ma’am, now we’ll come to Foreign [the U.S.] to visit you. Because you’re there now we have friends and family there too.

Me: [Silence / Looking awkward.]

Interaction: Revised

Youth: Ma’am, now we’ll come to Foreign to visit you!

Me: What you want to go to Foreign for? Look at me, coming all the way here for a job! Stay right where you are, you can get a great job in Ahmedabad. [This is true. SAATH’s Umeed program trains and places slum youth in corporate jobs.]

Lesson: Be truthful, in a nice way. It’s respectful to the other person. This was a tough one for me because I don’t want to make false promises, but I feel the burden of the privilege I enjoy. SAATH empowers youth to lead the best lives they can right where they are, which is a sustainable solution.

Interaction 3: Landlady

Context: Our rent is pretty steep by local standards. Our landlady thinks that she has all the rights of a landlord and none of the responsibilities. Her husband, our landlord, has no say in anything. I think she castrated him shortly after conceiving their second child.

Me: Auntie, our flat is infested with ants. They’re coming from everywhere. It’s uncontrollable. You must call someone to spray. They’re biting us in the night.

Auntie: This isn’t America where you can just call someone to spray your house. How can I pay an exterminator a third of what you pay for rent in the month?!

Me: [hangs head]

Interaction: Revised

Me: Auntie, our flat is infested.

Auntie: We can’t do anything about it. Deal with it.

Me: Auntie, I’m sorry I need to bother you, but where else can I go? It’s a strange town, where will we go?

Lesson: Stand up for yourself, and do it smiling. A little deference goes a long way. By the way, the last time we had an issue with the apartment, I stood up to Auntie. Things got done.

Interaction 4: Sangeet Teacher

Context: I want to learn to sing. I miss music. Lipi, from my office, gave me the number of this guy Mihir who teaches voice.

Me: [on phone] Hello, May I please speak to Mihirbhai?

Auntie: Lady, what do you want to talk to Mihir about? He’s just at school this morning, he’ll be home at 1 to take lunch and finish his lesson.

Me: Uhh…maybe I want to talk to his dad?

[I explain that I’m here from America and I want to learn to sing blah blah…]

Auntie: Oh! Don’t worry, I’ll tell Mihir you called and he’ll definitely give you a call when he gets home. You must come home for dinner one day too and meet all of us.

Lesson: Know who you’re talking to. Or else risk betrothal.

For the overly independent, India is a lesson in interdependence. At SAATH, I’m working to broker relationships between a variety of stakeholders, and communicate the lives of slum dwellers to the outside world. In India, I’m working on my own personal communications and PR strategy, pulling myself out of my shell and extending a hand into the hot desert sun.

_______________________________

Meghna Shah is at SAATH, an Ahmedabad-based NGO that uses market-based strategies for poverty alleviation. Meghna is working on a communications strategy for the organization, and learning to say no in a nice way to aunties who want her to marry their sons.

The Top Down (Approach)

I remember reading the vault guide and always wondering when in real life I would ever use the “top down” vs. “bottom up” approach.

And today, as I sat in Ahmedabad, Gujarat inside my friend's Wagoner, it happened.

The answer to the “bottom” is the top down approach. In my mind, there are two very hot topics in the development space:

1. Climate Change

2. Bottom of the Pyramid

How do you reach the bottom of the pyramid, and do it in an environmentally sustainable way? The key: you start from the top down!

The answer potentially doesn’t lie in India, or if it does, it doesn’t lie in the slum community. In fact, in order to get those at the bottom of the pyramid to use more environmentally friendly products, or take loans to buy solar lamps instead of battery powered lamps, we need to start at the top. We need to start with influencers.

Who are the influencers?

1. Heroes – ex. Doctors (Okay not just any doctors, but doctors that live in small villages, they are huge influences in small communities)
2. Builders (builders higher contractors, laborers, and day workers, who all use tools, equipment, and supplies that are consumed by the top of the pyramid)
3. Those with buying power (everyone idealizes those with buying power, people want to have the liberty to make the choices that others have, and they would probably make the same choices if they had that they money to have that chance)
4. Westerners (I am just going by what I see and hear here, this is not because I have an ego or something… even bollywoodidealizes Americans)

Although we may educate the slum community on the benefits to the environment, when using “green cement” or “solar powered” lanterns, if we aren’t using them ourselves, and if they aren’t being idealized on television or in movies (television and movies that get the bottom of the pyramid), then why would someone want to take a loan to buy these things, or why would they want to pay more for them?

Let’s look at a typical buying pattern for any consumer when looking at solar lanterns as an example:

1. Is the quality better? (perhaps, but not on cloudy days)
2. It is cheaper? (initially no, but in the long run yes)
3. Do most people use it ? (no, people generally have electricity lines running directly to their house)
4. Is it better for the environment ? (yes, but remember initially it is more expensive)

A consumers will typically buy something if it is “popular” or they need it. And when they need it, they go for what is most reliable, and definitely what is cheaper. Secondly, most consumers like instant gratification. So why would someone want to get something expensive, when it only pays off in the long run?

In any case, besides the “top of the pyramid” being the influencers, they are also the highest consumers of excess crap. I mean even I’m guilty of it. I probably didn’t need to buy Nutella yesterday, but I did, because well, I like it. Okay so this doesn’t really have to do with Nutella, but more with not buying new things until we really need new things. Or not buying stuff, we really don’t need. What I mean to say is as influencers, policy makers, etc. , we should essentially start with ourselves.

So what is the conclusion? I am encouraging all of you to go and buy solar lamps, wind turbines, etc. to light your houses, instead of using the grid. Since I know that is not holistically practical, what I would like to do instead is to tackle the influencers one at a time. Maybe the doctor in the local village, or the builders who build things, or bollywood. In any case please don’t take my examples as the end all, instead please understand what I’m trying to say.

Posted by Bijal Shah

Dream Connect – Part 1

Time flies by way too fast and I just like all the other AIF Fellows, have the unique opportunity to positively impact the lives of hundreds to thousands of youth due to the work and programs we implement within 10 months.... yep, no pressure at all.

I am working with the NGO Dream A Dream, whose main focus is to empower children from vulnerable backgrounds by developing life skills and at the same time sensitizing the community through active volunteering. Over 90% of the children Dream A Dream works with are young children in the age group of 5-14 years old. However, since 2007, they have started seeing children grow into young adults and continue to struggle in making a successful transition from the dependent environment of a school / shelter / institutional care system into an independent living environment. Children are being lost at the last mile, during one of the most crucial periods. Due to this, Dream A Dream felt that it was critical to close-loop life skills intervention by bringing to the young adults employability and higher educational opportunities so they are able to make wider choices and have a greater chance at becoming successful. This is where I come in.

My project is to launch 'Dream Connect', a network of life-skills centers for underprivileged 16+ young adults who are 10th/12th standard drop outs, unemployed, and those who are not actively pursuing higher education. We want to 'connect' these young adults into a meaningful career and adulthood by providing a location where they can enhance their situation through foundational life skills development (English, technology, communication, self-confidence, decision making, etc.), mentoring, career guidance/counseling, training/skills enhancement modules, and a knowledge resource library. The goal is not to be a vocational training center, but to be the connection to other training/vocational centers, personality development courses, government/corporate schemes, scholarships, work and study programs, etc.

This is my first exposure into the world of life skills and education (I'm from a IT consulting background), so my approach is to use technology as a tool to deliver life skills as well as developing content and a curriculum based on real environments and scenarios. I want to be able to develop a dynamic and innovative content delivery methodology / framework that is not dependent on facilitators, locations, vocations, etc. so it can be easily scaled.

Last week I launched the Dream Connect pilot. A 16 session / 8 week course on problem solving, communication, and creative/analytical thinking through the use of technology. My main goal is to remove the assumptions and repetitiveness of memorization that is so prevalent in the Indian education system. I want to remove the stigma that larger opportunities aren't in scope for these children, and why not strive for something more. Being completely optimistic, if I can turn 25 students, who haven't touched a computer into researchers trying to enrich and develop their own lives out of their own volition, we would have succeeded. Our first 3 classes have been more successful than I ever could have imagined, and I owe most of the credit to my very skilled instructor who delivers in English and Kannada, but there are still 13 more classes of content that has to be developed and delivered.

There are many challenges due to the fact that these young adults don’t have the communication tools necessary for staying in touch. Many of our students could drop out due to livelihood pressures from the immediate family, so how do we keep these youth motivated enough to keep attending when they are so accustomed to immediate gratification? What will be our final take-away and value-add? What is the market demand, and how do we make the program self sustainable? There are just a few of the issues that I hope the pilot program will shed some light on in these next few months. Stay tuned for Part 2.

Posted by Nandan Satyanarayan

Maher

“Hamare gar mai Papa ne Mummi ko bhot mara”
“In our house, Father hit Mother a lot”

“Is liye Aap ithar hai, naa?”
“That’s why you’re here, right?”

“Ha(n)!”
“Yes!”

“Lehkin Mummi kidar hai?”
“But where’s Mummi?”

“Woh to gar gahi!”
“She went home!”

***

Back on Sunday, November 8, I began volunteering with Maher Ashram. There are Maher centers throughout Pune, though the sizes of these centers greatly vary. I have been informed that, throughout Pune, there are approximately 21 Maher units that engage in a number of different activities. These activities run the gamut of services, ranging from providing housing to impoverished or orphaned children to rehabilitation programs for abusive husbands.

I had been introduced to Maher through an assignment I was working on for my fellowship. During the time, I was visiting a private English medium school known as Gyanankur so as to get better acclimated with the Indian education system and examine the acquisition of English language skills in a classroom environment.

While at the school, I ended up developing a relatively good working relationship with the teachers. Well enough, at least, for them to mention at least a couple of times that a fair number of the students attending the school, around 35, were Maher kids, coming from the children’s home in Wagholi. Notably, this school visit had been in early October.

As the month continued on, I found myself increasingly bored on the weekends. Living in Balewadi, Pune is not a very exciting experience, as this developing gaon has neither the excitement of city life nor the charm of village life (as another fellow so eloquently pointed out once). Additionally, I found myself increasingly discontent, as I had no volunteer engagements at the time. As someone who staunchly believes in the power of civil society, civic engagement, and volunteerism, I was disappointed in myself for not being engaged. So, when I came across Maher’s website while searching for volunteer opportunities in Pune, I jumped at the opportunity to set a meeting with Maher’s founder, Sister Lucy, to begin volunteering with the Maher kids who attended Gyanankur.

I went into the meeting with a lot of hopes and expectations. Having worked a great deal with children in the past, I figured that I would be able to contribute a lot to the organization. And, going forth with the typical American mindset that I need to go into a situation with a plan of action and an agenda, I sought to have Sister Lucy clearly articulate what the kids’ needs were so I could begin working to address those needs. I was disappointed, however, when Sister Lucy made no specific mention of areas in which I could help. She only mentioned that I should go there and simply speak and play with the students, as this would help improve their English skills and would best serve them.

At the time, I did not understand Sister Lucy’s request. After all, I had a ton of experience ranging from camp counselor to tutor. Surely I could set up something, anything, for the children. Perhaps I could work on planning a summer camp for them? Maybe I could tutor them in English? Or, since I was studying innovative teaching techniques, perhaps I could teach the Maher staff how to better help the kids with their lessons using fun pedagogical and teaching techniques? Why would Sister Lucy ask me to engage in something so non-descript as, effectively, simply hanging out with the kids? Do the kids or staff have no tangible needs I can seek to address?

Shortly after arriving at Maher for my first day of volunteering, I realized the brilliance of Sister Lucy’s request. The location I was going to volunteer in, as Sister Lucy had mentioned ahead of time, was not just a children’s home; it was also a “mentally disturbed” women’s shelter (their term, not mine) and a care facility for the neglected elderly. On account of this, there generally was not a dearth of volunteers. Volunteers come all the time, one having recently left just a few weeks prior to my arrival. These volunteers generally stay for a (relatively) long period of time and function in a particular role, such as teaching acting classes, working with the children on arts and crafts, and so forth.

Interestingly, these very acts of volunteering, while incredibly helpful, seemingly led the children to develop particular perspectives about the volunteers and their roles. Similarly, having been assigned a task, many of the volunteers would end up completing that task alone, perhaps to the neglect of some of the other needs of the kids and mentally disturbed women (the elderly were housed in a different building). After all, it would be difficult for a volunteer to spend individual time with each child while simultaneously attempting to conduct an activity for 35 children.

In not assigning me a particular role, Sister Lucy had effectively done two things. First, she allowed me the flexibility to serve in a role as I saw fit and develop my own volunteer schedule. Considering the large degree of travel I will have to do for work, this was absolutely imperative for me. Second, and perhaps more importantly and to the point, this extremely flexible assignment would allow the children to see me however THEY saw fit. I was not Uncle Samir, the teacher. Nor was I Uncle Samir, the counselor. I was simply Uncle Samir, and the kids could therefore assign whatever role to me they desire.

So, I became Uncle Samir, the guy who shows movies on his laptop. And Uncle Samir, the cricket player. Or Uncle Samir, the human climbing post (35 kids living under a single roof and sharing meager facilities tend to have a relatively loose concept of personal space…go figure). But, perhaps more relevant, I often became Uncle Samir, the confidant. Or Uncle Samir, the friend. Or Uncle Samir, the big brother.

It was an ingenious move by Sister Lucy, and one I have only recently come to appreciate. And I think it is the right role, as attestable by the large number of kids vying for my attention at any given time. I only wish there were more volunteers to serve a similar role so that the children would all receive the individual attention, smile, hug, and companion they so desperately desire, even if for only a week.

Unfortunately, it seems that most local Puneites rarely volunteer relative to foreigners, which is an incredible shame.

***

“Woh to gar gahi!”
“She went home!”

“Woh gar gahi? Kyu?”
“She went home? Why?”

…
No response.

“Koi bhaat nahi. Aap ko ithir mazaa aara hai, naa?”
No worries. You’re having fun here, right?”

The conversation above occurred between a young Maher child and me. She approached me, out of the blue, and set this staggering matter-of-fact statement before me with a huge grin on her face, expressing this bombshell with a child-like innocence and lack of awareness of the implications of what she was saying. She came to Maher from an abusive household with her younger brother and mother; the mother has since returned to the father but sensibly (or is it selfishly?) left her children at Maher as she purportedly went to try to reconcile her relationship with her husband.

Though I personally doubt the mother’s selflessness (though I totally believe her story as it is far too common), I honestly hope that things work out in the siblings’ best interest in the end. It would be absolutely horrible if, during this situation with her parents, she ends up losing her innocence, happiness, and trust in what becomes a ferocious cycle of trust and disappointment.

I hope that, unlike one kid at the shelter, she doesn’t become a child so conflicted about physical contact that she will jump onto your neck one minute but scream bloody murder when you lift her up the next. Or like another child, becomes so deprived of attention that she frequently acts out in her own selfish interests, often to the derision of her brothers and sisters at the Ashram. Or, like a third child, becomes so needful of adult interpersonal interactions that she constantly hangs onto visitors and becomes visibly distraught when they leave… or becomes even worse off, as far too many children throughout India know far too well.

***

“Koi bhaat nahi. Aap ko ithir mazaa aara hai, naa?”
No worries. You’re having fun here, right?”

…
No response.

“Nahi?”
“No?”

She runs a few steps toward the stairs, turns to flash me a huge grin inviting me to follow, and continues on her way to the playground. All is apparently out of mind for her, thankfully.

Not for me, though. My mind is reeling.

Posted by Samir Panjwani

Encouraging Micro Entrepreneurship in Rural Bengal

At a young age, we learned that we have five demarcated senses and we are lucky if each one is intact – seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting and touching. From the moment I begin my journey to our rural centers, I am sure my five senses are engaged and at work.

My project at Anudip Foundation for Social Welfare is to help develop its Entrepreneurship Development Program (EDP). Anudip’s mission is to create livelihood opportunities for low-income rural communities by training them in the “new economies” and helping them get jobs. Shying away from traditional livelihoods such as farming and handicrafts, Anudip’s beneficiaries are learning business and computers skills. Anudip’s goal is to show that rural communities can and should participate in India’s techno-savvy and computer-dependent industries. So many urbanites have reaped the benefits having been trained in computers that Anudip hopes to transfer this to the large human capital sitting, ready and able to work in rural Bengal.

Each day, we attempt to answer how we can prevent rural communities from migrating from their rural landscapes to the big city in order to seek employment. What alternative jobs and sectors can Anudip graduates be a part of while remaining in their local environment? Anudip’s response is encouraging skilled-based micro-entrepreneurship. Our Entrepreneurship Development Program works like this - we provide first-rate, Microsoft certified courses (Microsoft Office, Photoshop, Tally, etc) to people of all ages who have never seen a computer prior to our courses. As students graduate, some become inspired and interested in using these skills to run self-employed, group-based businesses (Cyber Cafés, Desktop Publishing businesses, Financial Accounting businesses, etc). Once they apply to our program, they are responsible for securing a fit location for their business and then we provide a zero-interest rate equipment loan (computers, digital cameras, printers, scanners, copy machines). They are required to pay this back in predetermined installments after year one. Along with the loan comes mentorship, strategy sessions, hand-holding and ultimately a 24-hour Anudip helpline given they run into any problems along the way.

As an example, we are currently helping three young girls living in a Muslim slum who, with our guidance, are starting a Computer Coaching Center for young kids in their area. This is a monumental conception in their slum as women and business rarely go together. Not only will their business provide them better livelihood options, they are serving as role models in their community and are becoming independent, self sufficient women. In addition, there are no computer-based businesses within 10 kilometers so their skills are specialized and desirable. Rural dwellers travel hours to Calcutta to take a passport photo, print a wedding card invitation or book an online train reservation. There is a “demand” for IT-enabled businesses in the rural and semi-urban areas of West Bengal and Anudip has the “supply” to feed this need. We are enabling rural villages to get access to information via a commonly used agent – the computer.

My responsibility is to create a process around identifying entrepreneurs that graduate from our program, help cultivate their ideas and mentor them along the way. They need assurance that they have emotional support as starting a new venture can be quite risky. Anudip graduates look for help with developing business plans, pricing and marketing their services, and most of all building personal confidence. Dibyendu, my partner at Anudip on EDP, and I spend our days strategizing and then testing our ideas in the field. We find that most of our entrepreneurs live in rural villages with limited accessibility to common modern resources. They, however, are not yearning for the urban lifestyle. They are in search of improved livelihoods in their own natural environments.

The Current State of My Five Senses

Seeing: My journey from Calcutta to the rural villages is a contemplative time for me. Whether we’re in a car, train, bus or auto-rickshaw, I make sure to get a window seat. One headphone in and one out to drain out the background noise, I stare out at the changing landscape. Within an hour, the environment goes from large cars, tall buildings and crowded streets to bicycles, mud homes and green rice paddies. The drive from the city to the village reminds me of why my work is so important. The context rural communities come from is drastically different from their city friends yet they want the same opportunities to provide for their families as city dwellers do. Side note: the number of colorful sunsets I have seen on my trips back into the city is beyond lucky.

Hearing: I love going to the field and speaking a combination of broken Punjabi/Hindi to local Bengalis. I think they appreciate my efforts. I'm getting quite skilled at gesturing, laughing and smiling to get my point across. It is most important that I am a good listener because as I ask a lot of questions, I have to pay attention to context clues given the language barrier. When all else fails, I say “khub bhalo” (“very good”) and then ask Dibyendu for a detailed translation on our ride home.

Smelling: I have asthma, allergies and other respiratory problems which Calcutta likes to agitate. I also have a sincerely receptive sense of smell which make Calcutta’s aroma of smoke, gas and urine particularly apparent. If anyone knows of a competition or game show where smell is tested, please let me know. I’d dominate and share my winnings. Anyway, spending afternoons outside in less congested areas is a gift to my lungs. I am so content working outside surrounded by trees, leaves and simplistic beauty.

Tasting: This experience is beginning to tickle my taste buds of how business development and encouraging entrepreneurship is important to the development of rural India. I am finding myself an interesting crossroad - entrepreneurship and social business. India is so massive that it needs the brunt of large scale projects and social businesses to capture the largest populations living in the rural areas. I like the taste of this so far and hope I can contribute my own flavor to this field.

Touching: We spend about two days a week in our suburban office in Salt Lake and the other three days at our field centers. In the office, we create workshops, manuals and questionnaires which serve a s templates for the remainder of the week. We then talk to prospective entrepreneurs, find out what they need and react from there. Given how grassroots my project is (working one-on-one with entrepreneurs), some may say the project is not scalable. However, I believe the handful of rural villagers we are touching sides with “quality” in the aged-old debate of quality versus quantity. For this reason, I am confident we can make a marginal, yet meaningful impact.

Posted by Jessica Sawhney