tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23233529874838096082024-03-05T04:40:42.867-08:00The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in India BlogInsights from 19 fellows working throughout India in the areas of livelihoods, health, and education.The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.comBlogger65125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-27353255525049567192010-07-19T05:32:00.001-07:002010-07-26T23:44:04.918-07:00Departure<p>Looking down, ever down, calloused hands scout crusty soil for the sole <i>pewli</i> she pirouettes—a habit of anxiety belying pretenses of stoicism. We know so we smile, in these final days readily to temper the tide of our true feelings. We laugh through a last meal, a last song, a last conversation; mashed mango and kofta, <i>Open Your Eyes</i>, an unending commitment to the community. Feigned happiness again buries tears along this string of post-college years knotted with such punishing celebration.</p> <p>This community—teachers, farmers, cooks—is family we will leave. And in the end we remember the beginning. What brings anyone to APV is misunderstood, though retrospect helps explain groggy 3:45am smiles persisting through each day’s three workdays in the classroom, kitchen, and fields.`</p> <p>A pause in the flower’s twirl, a tug at the petals, a divulgence:</p> <p>—When rice, I enjoy many people together. First one family work, then others come, then four, five families together. Everybody taking out and tying and joking, talking, and I like. Plowing the field and water and mix and mud and sowing again and throw mud at each other in mouth and…like Holi, I like.</p> <p>Muddled mosaic tiles of memory; petals amputated, collected in her hands. <i>Pluck</i>…</p> <p>—All children went forest together to big stone and are sitting there and eating and sitting. We talk about our home, our school. Women and brothers talk me. They know I don’t tell anybody. Some women hide and they fight and they tell me about. They tell everything. Like secret. They trust me.</p> <p><i>…Pluck</i>…</p> <p>—I have goat and sheep. I like our cow, very nice, no horns. One day leopard attack our cow and I am crying. Evening time, leopard attack and killed. Many people go to forest not find and after two days I saw the cow dead. I am crying. Many days I am crying. My cow has no horns.</p> <p><i>…Pluck</i>…</p> <p>The decent, the diligent, the gentle, and the wise. We are who came here, grown, intellectually and emotionally. </p> <p><i></i></p> <p>She balls the severed petals and from them crushes fragrance.</p> <p>—These days I like so much, I learn many things because many volunteers came here. Like, you teach us everything, about other, other, other, other.</p> <p>Evolution characterizes the APV experience. Investigation through mindfulness focuses life. Too often schools forget the plasticity of inquiry to pursue ordered achievement. We run a school, but we own a methodology, one that begins with introspection and may someday end with awareness and understanding.</p> <p>—I learn how to live together—most important thing. Here is different places people here. We met and happy. I like home but this time I like home and here both same.</p> <p>Through ease and ordeal we absorbed the best of each other, daring the other to toil alone. I have never challenged myself so exhaustively for another; every log, stone, and field was hers.</p> <p>Tracing shapes in her palms, petals drop and hues erode. Her wedding is too soon, as June.</p> <p>—I want marry; marry important because sometimes some problem and care each other.</p> <p>Enter society, play its game. We do not reject our fall into urbanity, but balance would be nice. The world jerks us from Garhwal. Detached, we do stir for modernity’s conveniences (<i>electricity! restaurants! ice cream!)</i> but don’t we need so little? Naïve, we anticipate happiness, but aren’t we happy right now? </p> <p>—I don’t want leave here.</p> <p>She entrusts me with her sorrow. From afar we will work for APV, comfortable our relationships will tether and retrieve us. But to leave this place is to die a little and in the end all we can do is talk.</p> <p>Still, things we say leave much unsaid: we are beholden to this community; without it, we would never have met, may never again.</p> <p>Clouds weep the hillside, dampening her hands, smothering their perfume, shrouding what her shuddering lower lip and clutched brow tell. We mute before an impending storm. All will change—not simply intensify or diminish, but evolve. Our shared, smiling eyes might be aimed—<i>charily</i>—at friends; the salt of our labors may be summoned—<i>painfully</i>—beneath a different sun; and the synchronized, accelerating pulses as one waits for the other (the other hurrying to the one) could repeat— <i>weakly</i>—before our family’s embrace. </p> <p>A draw from our tumbler suspends water beads from her chin that scatter what rays breaks the clouds. Evolution is perilous. I will remember forest fires, felled trees, and festivals, but those beads? Details—ends devour them and trade the salvage. In new places with new people, we will barter pine for concrete, hugs for salary, smiles for desks.</p> <p>—He say ‘I can’t get leave.’ That time I not happy, very serious. Now, telling you, I am very happy. He said, ‘if I can’t get leave, what will we do?’ I said, ‘nothing, don’t worry about it, next winter. I can stay at APV for long time, no problem.’ Seriously, then; now, smiling.</p> <p>She rubs the water from her chin, washing her hands. Her chin rises and eyes into mine she smiles.</p> <p>—I don’t know what is future.</p> <p>None do.</p> <p><i><a href="mailto:charles.iannuzzi@gmail.com">Charles Iannuzzi</a> </i><i>works on curriculum and syllabus development at</i><i> </i><i><a href="http://www.apvschool.org/">APV School</a></i><i> </i><i>in Anjanisain, Uttarakhand.</i></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/TERFnX8D1VI/AAAAAAAAAsY/YfszK1GSlLs/s1600-h/IMG_5759%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_5759" border="0" alt="IMG_5759" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0d4XKFv7TvQakFKUXL919y6Hcp3Qfg9ERql7GkmInCTzru37xM8C_qV6fdW7TkiijwP_7wg80kZg45HszGDrGJav3uTKvvoKFwqBN3KfL_WmRmZmERCylrN4GpsojxdW0YCo66XAtg-t/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-64134327688069778412010-06-21T11:15:00.001-07:002010-06-21T11:15:58.039-07:00Sixteen ten on my mind<p>Today had been an unremarkably routine day. Nothing to write home about, as they say. Unremarkably routine day. One down. Sixteen to go. Only ten at Rishi Valley. Frightening calculations for a girl who has grown so fond of the place she’s learned to call home. The Subcontinent. Incredible India. My own Rishi Valley.</p> <p>The day had started as most days in Rishi Valley do, with waking up to a screaming Bollywood alarm melody, to close the doors for a hope of privacy. A few hours later, I rubbed my eyes out of bed awoken by the intrusion into privacy, the maid in the window singing a long “Helloooooooo”, intruding into the hideously messy cocoon of my life, fit under and on top of two twin bed cots put together with thin mattresses on top.</p> <p>Some time after the usual morning routine of brushing teeth and inserting contacts, walking to lunch to the hum of my iPod being overrun with outside sounds: cicadas buzzing, various birds singing various songs, tractors plowing down the road, rickshaws blaring more Bollywood tunes. Rice and dhal consumed, kofta gathered into the folds of warm soft chappati pieces placed gingerly in the mouth. A friend once told me that Bengalis have a saying, “Eating with a fork is like making love through an interpreter.” Makes perfect sense. I dread the cutlery waiting for me back home – shiny spoons and sharpened forks, the interpreters of my love for the Subcontinent. Incredible India. My own Rishi Valley.</p> <p>Post lunch, heading to the office for browsing the internet, connecting with the outside world. Learning about new status updates, request of technological friendships, news of engagements and breakups, reading articles about sadness drenching our world with old wars, new conflicts, neglect, and somewhere maybe even hope. If only the world was drenched with more rain. I hope the sky turns grey. If only over the Subcontinent. Incredible India. If only the rains would come just to my own Rishi Valley.</p> <p>The afternoon heat is sticky. Physically disturbing. The cool comes after five, close to six, close to dinner-time. But my room remains hot, everything, each piece of the mess under and on the cots and even the cots themselves, warm and unpleasant to the touch. It used to cool off by the time dinner was over, by the time I had finished licking the rice and sambar off of my fingers and walked in the cooler air down the road in the dark by the faint light of my cell phone, familiar sounds mixing: the tunes from the iPod, the birds still chirping, the relentless cicadas, the honking of rare motorcycles going by. But now, it does not cool off until midnight, technically the next day, ruining the post-dinner plans of comfort and productivity. I lay uncomfortably on the warmth of the sheets, swallow pain-killers for the dehydration headache, sip water mixed with Glucon D, try to read, think if I can afford a cold shower during this drought. Mostly, I am filling my head with thoughts not revolving around the numbers sixteen or ten. One month left to shudder and distract myself.</p> <p>When relief flows with the wind from the screened windows, it is not immediately noticed. The air cools gradually, like water boils gradually, first becoming lukewarm, then warm, then hot, only finally bubbling. The desire to sleep floats out the window with the hot air. The cool air allows the head to think clearly, to be productive, to be comfortable, to be creative, to be alive. Fully. Even though it is technically the next day, it is time to savor the one just lived, even if unremarkably routine. After all, it is this unremarkable routine that I will miss the most. The annoying Bollywood melody. The screaming cicadas. The green of the palm trees waving as I walk by them on my way to my forced vegetarian diet. A familiar “Helloooooooo” in the window. My whole life fitting under and on top of the two twin bed cots put together with thin mattresses on top. The heat sneaking out of my room when relief quietly spills in. The Subcontinent. Incredible India. My own Rishi Valley.</p> <p><em>Posted by Tatiana Rostovtsev</em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-63977969894842364802010-04-09T22:34:00.001-07:002010-04-09T22:34:38.967-07:00The Faces of AIDS<p>I don’t think that I could ever forget the first faces that I associated with HIV.  Like anyone else from the developed world, caricatures of wasted AIDS patients in grim, third-world wards have been consistently imprinted by news reports and pictures on checkout-counter donation boxes.   I think we all realize that we become desensitized, but that still doesn’t prevent it from happening.</p> <p>Even if you work for a specific health cause – HIV/AIDS, TB, parasitic infection – it’s so easy to get lost amidst the statistics and programmatic pigeonholes.  Attending several WHO meetings in recent years has increasingly taught me how easy it is to become removed from the same people that you are trying to help. It’s not through any diminution of altruism that this happens – exactly the opposite.  Finding a niche that needs to be filled – better development of dengue diagnostic tests, for example, or campaigning for increased training for nurses – is both natural and necessary; disaggregation of a problem is the easiest way for an individual actor to make an impact.  All this being said, at the heart of the tables, graphs, and logframe outlines, there is a population that is sick. And each population is made of so many individuals.  People. Stories. Lives.  Faces.</p> <p>Until this past month, I had become increasingly uncomfortable with this disconnect in my own life.  I have written extensively about “domestic violence victims” and “HIV positive wives” during my time here – but who are they?  Equally important to me – and, in the pragmatic sense, to the program as they approach potential new donors – was interacting with the patients and AIDS-affected population that YRG serves.  Through the kindness of my advisor, Ganesh, and the dynamic medical director at YRG’s hospital, Dr. Kumar, they agreed to let me start attending rounds, counseling sessions, and helping with outpatient care.</p> <p>So I found myself, face to face, with a family of three being counseled on HIV for the first time.  As the interview was in Telugu (a regional language of Andhra Pradesh), I simply watched and tried to follow the counselor Lakshmi through her interview.  The family was young: the father was 32, the mother 26, and their small boy three.  I played peek-a-boo with the boy as Lakshmi went through her paperwork and preliminary questions, the young couple sitting uncomfortably erect in their chairs.  The boy played with the edge of a window curtain, smiling as he sat quietly in his father’s lap.</p> <p>Pausing, Lakshmi turned to hand me the carefully-creased diagnostic tests that they had brought with them that morning.  Medical papers in developing countries still always cause me to pause; coming from a culture where everything is digitalized, to see people’s testing strips taped to soft, well-worn papers, diagnoses scribbled by hand, is such a powerful example of an old world adapting to the new, to the extent that’s possible.  </p> <p>“This is a new family at our clinic,” she explained.  “All three are HIV-positive.”</p> <p>I tried not to let my face show emotion as I turned toward the family.  I had suspected the husband, possibly the wife- but the boy?  Soft morning light falling on his face, he now slept peacefully in his father’s arms.  Three years old, and already limited to a shorter life and inevitable pain.  I looked at the father, seeking to vilify the face that had brought his entire family so many difficulties. </p> <p>But I couldn’t.  His face was not the face of a malicious womanizer, nor that defiantly poignant, hardened image of a “truck driver” or “injecting drug user.”  His eyes were kind, and sad, and empty; I could not begin to imagine the guilt that he had to bear as he sat in that room, calmly discussing the death sentence that he had unwittingly given to his family.  I felt such sympathy for him.  Yes, he had had an extramarital affair.  Yes, he hadn’t practiced safe sex, and his partner had been positive. But, in a society where it’s commonly accepted for men to have side partners – was he really so much to blame?  How many things have we all done that we know haven’t been “right,” but were colloquially accepted?  Coupled with an arranged marriage and likely lack of health education – how much could he be blamed, and how much of his situation was simply the unlucky product of circumstance?</p> <p>As the wife wiped away silent tears, I likewise felt my heart sink for her.  Caring for a positive husband and child, as well as herself….So many burdens added to the burden of who she was: a poor Indian housewife.</p> <p>The family agreed to undergo further compulsory tests – tests for TB, STDs, co-infections – as per the norm at YRG.  Lakshmi explained that the tests would cost at least Rs 3,000 – about $66, a fortune for a lower-income family here.  This, plus travel expenses to come to Chennai for treatment, missed days of work, the diminished capacity to work as the disease took hold later….YRG significantly subsidizes costs of tests and treatment for poor patients, but even still – how would they make ends meet?  The clinical and public health world vehemently demonizes patients who miss drug regimes and contribute to resistance.  But, faced with the choice between food on the table and a year-long course of TB drugs that cause vomiting and severe liver complications – can you blame anyone for opting out?  They have a second uninfected child – what will happen to him when all of his family members die?</p> <p>None of these questions have easy answers.  Some may not have answers at all.  But these are the realities that people face, as well as the realities that their caregivers must mitigate.  Treatment.  Care.  Support.  Education.  Livelihood improvement.  Poverty reduction.  All of them are niches to be filled, while not forgetting the connections that must remain between them.</p> <p>As I come to the second half of my fellowship, I am beginning to better appreciate that health, and the determinants and maintenance of it, is an entire ecosystem.  I recognized that public health was my passion years ago, and decided to forgo a medical degree to treat the source behind the symptoms.  However, I am realizing now that I have been wearing the same focused blinders that I saw and criticized within clinical medicine.  Yes, there must be a focus on prevention, but that education and infrastructural improvement must be contingent with holistic care of those affected by health problems now.</p> <p>Increasingly, I have been brainstorming the foundation of my own health coalition, focused on public-private collaboration to provide preventative and curative health services in geographically isolated areas.  It must connect with some market interest to be sustainable; it must be scalable; it must be simple; it must be comprehensive.  It is addressing an ecosystem of needs, and likewise needs to build upon a network of symbiotic relationships.  Above all, it needs to strive to find that elusive balance between treating what exists and paving the way for a healthier future.</p> <p>To do this effectively, I am now weighing options to try and find the most efficient and useful graduate degree that allow me to help on an individual basis, as well as a systemic health level.  I am not sure what medical avenue would be the best route - MD/MPH, NP, PA, etc. - but I am beyond grateful for the valuable insight that numerous doctors, nurses, and fellows at YRG have given me regarding each option.   I’m hopeful that the path I choose will give me at least a good platform to build the core of the coalition, while recognizing that other specialties – environmental, social, business-oriented, economic – must be incorporated as well.  </p> <p>There are so many niches that I could fill; whichever I do, I hope that I find a balance between making large-scale change and connecting, face to face, with the people that those changes affect.  </p> <p><em>Nicole Fox is based in Chennai, Tamil Nadu with YRG Care</em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-75966960902842827582010-04-06T22:45:00.000-07:002010-04-07T11:40:48.918-07:00Do It Yourself: Curd in the Kitchen<object width="400" height="225"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=10729228&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=10729228&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="225"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/10729228">Do it yourself: Curd in the Kitchen</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2803952">Kirsten Anderson</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p> <o:p><br /></o:p>Yogurt: A Public Health Service Announcement<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>Service work at grassroots level NGOs in India requires fit and able bodies. It can often entail spending long hours on buses without bathroom breaks, walking in the sun from village to village, eating potentially hazardous street food or unknown foods offered by a generous host, and using bathrooms without soap to wash your hands (or anyone else’s for that matter). If you are sick in bed with a fever, puking your guts out or running to the toilet every five minutes, clearly you will not be able to serve your NGO or the community you are working with. Therefore, maintaining a healthy body during the fellowship is of serious importance. The two most important ways to stay healthy, according to yours truly, a 12-year India travel veteran, are to:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>1) Stay hydrated. Drink lots of clean water. It’s always good for you but is absolutely essential in the summer heat and it helps your system flush out the bad stuff. Always carry a water bottle with you. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">2) Eat plenty of yogurt! Make it at home and consume a little everyday. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p>While water has an obvious link to maintaining general health, the need for a daily dose of yogurt probably requires a bit more explanation. Please read below for more information on the benefits of including yogurt in your diet and watch the video to find out how easy it to make at home; it simply requires a little help from a nearby aunty and spoon(ful) of starter.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">--------</p> <p></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">yo-gurt [yoh-gert]</span><i style=""><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>-noun:<o:p></o:p></i> a custard like food made from milk curdled by the cultures of probiotic bacteria. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal">Top 10 benefits of making your own yogurt:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">10) Probiotics, the GOOD bacteria:</span> It helps to maintain a healthy balance of micro-organisms in your digestive system. There are hundreds of micro-organisms in your intestinal track and its important to keep them all healthy. The largest group of probiotic bacteria in the body's intestines is lactic acid bacteria, or Lactobacillus acidophilus, which is in probiotic yogurt. It’s the lactic acid that gives curd the tart/sour taste.<br /></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">9) The anti-antibiotic:</span> If you get Delhi-belly and it lasts for more than 2-3 days, you may need antibiotics to kill the infection. Unfortunately, many antibiotics actually kill the good bacteria along with the illness, causing bad bacteria in the body to multiply and resulting in even more diarrhea. If you need to take antibiotics keep your system healthy by eating an extra helping of yogurt. It’ll help replace good healthy bacteria back into the body, giving relief to the diarrhea. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">8) Increase your body’s immunity: </span>Eating probiotic natural yogurt can boost your body’s overall immunity. Not only will your intestines be healthier and more capable of fighting future infections, aids in digestion and can reduce yeast infections in women.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">7) Fresh and natural: </span>When you make your own yogurt, the milk needs to be bought fresh, there are no chemical additives or preservatives and you’ll need to make more once it goes sour. Not all store bought yogurt contains the healthy probiotics you need. If you make it at home, you know it has all the good stuff.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">6) Even lactarts can enjoy: </span>Many people have difficulty digesting milk or are lactose intolerant. However, the yogurt fermentation process actually produces an enzyme that makes digestion easier.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">5) Cheap:</span> You just need to buy the milk. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">4) You’ll be the talk of the town:</span> It’s a true sign you have adapted to your local environment, your neighbors and co-workers will be very impressed.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">3) Cooling in the heat: </span>You can keep your yogurt in the fridge for up to a week and it tastes great on those hot summer days.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">2) So many uses:</span> You can add it to your favorite fruit, put it in the mixie and you have a delicious smoothie, or if you prefer, lassi. Eat it with dahl and rice. Put it on pancakes. Eat it at the end of your South Indian thali. Make raita to eat with biriyani. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><blockquote>(<span style="font-weight: bold;">Ladies only:</span> don’t get disgusted, but in the case of a yeast infection, you can apply yogurt directly. It is cool and soothing, and it gets all the GOOD bacteria just where it needs to be. Google search the various ways of application.)</blockquote></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-weight: bold;">1) Easy.</span> All you need is an aunty and a spoon. Watch the Do It Yourself video above to find out how you too can make yogurt at home in just a few simple steps.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> Enjoy your homemade yogurt!</o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal">____________________<br /><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >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, </span><span style="font-size:85%;"><a style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;" href="http://www.blogger.com/www.ready2readprogram.blogspot.com">Ready to Read</a></span><span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >, as well as working on the production of an educational English DVD series. She has also been making her own yogurt for 2 years and is now experimenting with kombucha.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <!--EndFragment--> <p></p>The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-53704248071017237872010-03-21T03:59:00.001-07:002010-03-21T03:59:23.044-07:00On Serving in India<p>With the number of young non-resident Indian (NRI) volunteers at India’s NGOs today, it seems coming to India for service work is a new rite of passage. Manju Sadarangani first came to Kutch, Gujarat to provide relief in the aftermath of the 2001 Gujarat earthquake. She has fond memories of the village boy who wanted to marry her and of the impact she made with just a laptop and a spreadsheet program. Manju was a member of the first group of fellows sent to Indian NGOs by the American India Foundation. Today, Manju is a political officer for the American Embassy in New Delhi.</p> <p>The2001 Kutch earthquake proved to be a galvanizing moment for pan-Indian philanthropy. In the decade since, a steady supply of young NRIs has come to India’s NGOs to work on service projects, not necessarily in areas where they have familial or linguistic ties. <b>Motivated by the opportunity to be a part of India’s phenomenal growth story, they are enhancing India’s vibrant civil society institutions. In the process, they are finding out a lot about identity, development and what it means to “serve.” </b></p> <p>The NRI supply meets a demand among Indian NGOs for professional managerial skills, transparency and fundraising capacity.<a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/html/compose/static_files/blank_quirks.html#_ftn1" name="127755ed373d6cc9__ftnref1">[1]</a> Young NRIs help apply for funding, set up evaluation systems, and professionalize processes. Their expertise in everything from Excel to English is valued for shaping strategies and implementing programs. However, both the organization and the individual deal with the frustration of unmet expectations. Indian NGOs can struggle to effectively maximize an outsider’s skill and time, or resist change from an external source. Former volunteer Sanjana says, “I sort of got lost trying to figure out how to use my skills [at the NGO].”</p> <p>NGOs are equally frustrated by the assumptions and priorities of these well-intentioned individuals. In general, they have knowledge of how things “should” work, and may not be as open to figuring out how things can and do work in the Indian context. NRIs in particular carry assumptions about India they’ve picked up in the India-in-exile of their birth. But because channels are open, learning takes place. <b>The greatest, albeit tangential, contribution NRIs are making is enhancing NGOs capacity to utilize outsiders. </b>For example, <a href="http://www.sevamandir.org/index.htm">Seva Mandir</a> in Udaipur hosts over 100 volunteers each year, and has a formal training program, housing and support services for volunteers.</p> <p>To meet a need for structured support on both sides, fellowships and other formal exchange programs for young people from the West facilitate service opportunities in India with financial and structural support. Among the more professionally-oriented programs are the <a href="http://www.aifoundation.org/serve/servicecorps/default.htm">American India Foundation</a>’s Clinton Fellowship, the <a href="http://www.deshpandefoundation.org/sandbox-fellowship.html">Deshpande Foundatio</a><a href="http://www.deshpandefoundation.org/sandbox-fellowship.html">n</a>’s Sandbox Fellowship and the <a href="http://www.affp.org.uk/what-we-do/paropkaar-programme-international-volunteering">Asian Foundation for Philanthropy</a>’s Paropkaar Volunteers program. Identity and the search for self is a motivator for many NRIs. Programs like <a href="http://www.indicorps.org/">Indicorps</a> and the UK-based <a href="http://www.connectindia.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=frontpage&Itemid=1">ConnectIndia</a> have a more explicit focus on personal development through service for people of Indian origin. As former fellows and volunteers go on to work in the development sector, exchanges help launch new organizations and social ventures, bolstering India’s vibrant civil society institutions and changing attitudes towards philanthropy and volunteerism. <b>Back at home young NRIs are also moving the diaspora’s giving to India away from financial support of religious and education causes towards strategic engagement for social and economic development.<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S6X8A6bTXjI/AAAAAAAAAsQ/0SW6vXmtyks/s1600-h/Kerala%20Site%20Visit%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="Kerala Site Visit" border="0" alt="Kerala Site Visit" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S6X8CA0SnUI/AAAAAAAAAsU/cOCk2Hm2RpM/Kerala%20Site%20Visit_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </b></p> <p><em>Meghna Shah is a Clinton Fellow of the American India Foundation working on capacity-building projects for <a href="http://www.saath.org/">SAATH</a>, an Ahmedabad-based NGO that creates market linkages for India’s urban and rural poor. </em></p> <p><em>This posting is also available at <a href="http://southasianphilanthropy.org/2010/03/16/guest-post-meghna-shah-on-volunteering-in-india/" target="_blank">South Asian Philanthropy Project</a> (SAPP)</em></p> <hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /> <p><a href="https://mail.google.com/mail/html/compose/static_files/blank_quirks.html#_ftnref1" name="127755ed373d6cc9__ftn1">[1]</a> “Investing in Ourselves: Giving and Fundraising in India,” Asian Development Bank, 2002.</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-84843763487910190722010-03-08T04:03:00.001-08:002010-03-08T04:03:26.285-08:00Two-Sided Markets<p><u>SAATH:</u></p> <p>SAATH is a non-governmental organization that utilizes market-based strategies to create inclusive societies by empowering India’s urban and rural poor.</p> <p><u>Visa:</u></p> <p>Visa is a global payments technology company that connects consumers, businesses, banks and governments in more than 200 countries and territories.</p> <p>What does that mean? Okay, if you take nothing else away from this please understand this. Visa is not a credit card company. They have absolutely no say over what your credit card limit is, what your interest rates are, or what kind of non-Visa rewards your bank gives you (However use Visa, you’ll be better off all around =)). Therefore, please, please stop asking me or any other former or current Visa employee to fix these issues for you, you will only find our answer frustrating. Instead, go find your friends at CITIBANK, BAC, or ICICI and ask them to deal with your credit card woes.</p> <p>Visa is first and foremost a technology company. They use technology to support payment transactions between those who want to buy with those who want to sell. Visa gracefully capitalizes on the notion of a two-sided market, allowing it to make more than $6 Billion in revenue in 2008.</p> <p>By now you are thinking, what does this have to do with SAATH…</p> <p><u>Two Sided Markets:</u></p> <p>As soon as I walked into the door at Visa, my mentor (Chris Sweetland) handed me a book called “Paying with Plastic.” Although the notion of two-sided markets is all around us, it wasn’t till this book that I internalized the power of the two-sided market - two or more customer groups that receive value only if all sides are actively engaged. It’s the notion of the greater good. If we collaborate we will all be better off. The issuer brings the cardholders, the acquirers bring the merchants, and Visa brings the network to be able to connect any combination of issuing and acquiring institutions.</p> <p>Let me break this down less technically with the help of “Paying with Plastic” for those of you who are still like: what the heck.</p> <p>This is a classic example used to explain two-sided markets, I’m just going to put my own spin on it.</p> <p>Let’s rewind to 2002. You’re waiting in line to enter the “hottest” nightclub in Philly – Transit (Penn, please laugh). When you approach the door, you realize it’s free entry for ladies  “AWESOME”, and $20 bucks for the gents. The club is the “network.”  Men are one side of the market, and women are the other side of the market. To bring men and women together, the nightclub (network) decided to charge the men, but not the women. Why?</p> <p>A nightclub is a great destination to meet the opposite sex (assuming that is what you are into). If that is the case, women for some reason are harder to come by in nightclubs, therefore to attract women, and meet the opposite sex’s demands, nightclubs offer their services (a forum for meeting others) free to one side of the market. Genius (and extremely convenient for me =))!</p> <p>And there you have it: Bring the women and many men will come, and pay to come.</p> <p><u>Two-sided SAATH:</u></p> <p>SAATH applies the same logic, except to the Bottom of the Pyramid (BOP). SAATH’s Urban Resource Center (URC) serves as a network hub, physically, instead of electronically. It connects service providers in Ahmedabad, to those who need or want it, specifically those in underprivileged communities. The URC offers more than 130 services from acquiring a ration card, to finding a driving instructor. It charges a membership fee to get users to sign up and then allows them to access all of the URCs different services (again for a fee). It helps service providers like the government, other NGOs, and private companies to access this relatively untapped market who is willing to pay for goods and services, but who currently don’t have exposure, access, trust or the knowledge to use them.</p> <p>The Gap:</p> <p>Currently, SAATH runs the URC on an NGO model as opposed to a social enterprise. This is where my skills (expertise?) come into play. How can the URC be revamped into a social business which still meets the needs of the bottom of the pyramid, but become self-sustainable (with a surplus) in the process?</p> <p>The Solution:</p> <p>Visa charges both sides of the market, why can’t SAATH? Instead of just charging the customers to be linked to services, SAATH should charge private institutions, NGOs and the government to leverage its network platform. Its ability to connect the customer to the supplier is just as or even more valuable to the service provider as it is to the customer.  Therefore this linkage, and capitalizing on it, is what will help the URC be sustainable and more importantly scalable. If a service provider had to build its own center or outlet in each underprivileged community, just as if every bank had to build its own payment network, the service provider would make less progress, and so would the bank. The banks realized this in the early 70’s and formed NBI and IBANCO, the predecessors of what is now VISA Inc. SAATH realized this and formed the URCs, and now needs to capitalize on its value proposition. </p> <p><u>The Takeaway:</u></p> <p>If you want to reach the bottom of the pyramid, tap the URC. If you want to purchase things GO World, GO Visa.</p> <p><u>Fun Fact:</u></p> <p>Until Early 2008, Visa was a not-for-profit organization, which then successfully converted into a corporation with a p/e multiple of 38.9. The URC currently runs in a not-for-profit status… think of the possibilities.</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S5Tnb3jRaDI/AAAAAAAAAsA/ATGflI3uibo/s1600-h/CSC_0043%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="CSC_0043" border="0" alt="CSC_0043" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S5TndqgxjCI/AAAAAAAAAsE/Wcun-Bg0SWw/CSC_0043_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="165" height="244" /></a></p> <p><em><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S5TngjHt19I/AAAAAAAAAsI/88efsjXmXsE/s1600-h/DSC_0042%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="DSC_0042" border="0" alt="DSC_0042" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S5TniVTK81I/AAAAAAAAAsM/uRBaUths4Cs/DSC_0042_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="165" /></a> </em></p> <p><em>Bijal Shah is based in Ahmedabad, Gujarat with SAATH. Bijal  is interested in converting nonprofit’s into social enterprises, and is currently helping SAATH flip some of its signature programs into sustainable entities under the brand Anveshan Catalysts.</em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-30730288839620484512010-02-27T20:28:00.000-08:002010-02-27T20:28:00.482-08:00Something Corporate This Way Comes<p>One of the interesting aspects of living in Bombay is that it puts you in a unique position to see the New India. Just walking down certain streets, looking at the plethora of mega-malls, skyscrapers, and sports-car showrooms, its easy to forget that you're still in 'developing' country. A few months back, a woman said something to me that summed up the New India perfectly. She said, "You know, India is not a poor country. There is a lot of wealth here." And its true; wealth abounds in certain areas, and with this influx of wealth, not only the Bombay skyline is changing - attitudes and priorities are changing as well, much to the benefit of the social sector.</p> <p>This is a reality that has become increasingly clear to me in recent weeks, as a result of my work. Part of my job lately has been to seek out new modes of funding for my organization, which has allowed me to interact with some of the large companies and individuals that are shaping the New India. Most recently, I had the chance to meet with the head of the Indian branch of one of the worlds wealthiest and, as a result of the financial crisis, most infamous companies. This is a company whose near collapse could have brought on a global economic depression. Luckily bailout dollars have kept them comfortable - something that became immediately apparent once I saw their building.</p> <p>It never ceases to amaze me some of the places you find New India tucked away in Bombay. Unless you count Bandra East, many of these large corporate buildings are interwoven into the city. My meeting was in Lower Parrel, an very densely packed area towards the city. Normally, Lower Parrel to me would signal narrow streets and small shops crowded near a series of overpasses that lead further into the city - its one of the few parts of the city that isn't littered with trees and greenery. Its a pretty grey, urban area; or atleast I thought it was. The office of this company was to be found in corporate campus in Lower Parell - an entire area blocked off for large corporation buildings. I walked through an unassuming gate located on the streets in Lower Parrel, and it was like stepping into a different world. Suddenly there was an abundance of big open space, of large metal statues and beautiful gardens, of buildings so tall you have to strain your neck just to see the top. It didn't feel like Bombay anymore, or atleast not the Bombay I had grown accustomed to. It could have been any other wealthy developed country, characterized by the same droves business suits and coffee cups. There were a few buildings in the campus, and the one I went to also housed a few other wealthy international companies like Yahoo India.</p> <p>Ok, so the flashy buildings were cool, can’t deny that. Though, what was really impressive and ultimately more important was the meeting. We meandered up to the 8<sup>th</sup> floor of the high-rise building, and were seated in a spacious air conditioned board room complete with fine oak table and big screen tv. After waiting for a few minutes, in walked the head of this company’s India branch. He had the look and stride of a man who had reached the top of the corporate ladder. I half-expected to meet the Indian Gordon Gecko – a callous, corporate goon. Instead, he was very kind and friendly. We had come to just tell him a bit about Youth Venture in the hopes that we might be able to get him. Within minutes though, it became apparent that he was not just some apathetic businessman doing his good deed for the month and humoring us with a meeting. He was knowledgeable and engaged with the social sector, and he had a sincere belief that money isn’t enough, there needs to be sustainability and partnership in the sector.</p> <p>We brought Khusboo, one of our Youth Venturers, with us because she is a living, breathing example of what happens when you empower a young person. Khusboo started a venture that seeks to support young girls who live in shelters. Herself once a runaway, Khusboo noticed that young girls who live in shelters spend their whole lives there and experience little of the outside world. However, once they turn 18, they are dropped out of the shelter and left to fend for themselves. Recognizing this injustice, Khusboo now provides classes and support to help prepare these girls while they are still in the shelters.</p> <p>Khusboo was asked how Youth Venture had influenced her life, and then she spoke at length about herself, her venture, and why she believes in Youth Venture. I sat back and watched this surreal scene in front me – this titan of industry leaning in and hanging onto every word of this young girl. The meeting went on, and he made it clear that he believed in the necessity of socially engaged citizenry where every person does their part.</p> <p>After this meeting, I had a similar meeting further downtown with a lawyer at one of the India’s most prestigious law firms. This meeting was in Nariman Point, an even wealthier area, as affirmed by the sports car I saw revving down the street outside the office. I met with a young lawyer who works with the philanthropic team of law firm. Again, within a few minutes he surprised me by showing that he really knew his stuff. The firm has a history of engagement with the social sector in India, and he described tried to ensure that all its work had an underlying social value. He was very honest about his frustrations with the NGO sector in India – in India, NGOs have long had the reputation of being ineffective, corrupt fronts for money laundering. This is an image that has long tarnished the sector, and it colors many middle class opinions about NGOs and social work. The lawyer I was meeting with firmly believed that this needed to change, and that were certain aspects of the sector that needed to change to create true impact. He was adamant that their needed to be more transparency, clearer metrics, and greater knowledge sharing in the sector. I’m of the same opinion, and we were able to have an interesting, constructive conversation about the necessity of corporate involvement in the social sector.</p> <p>What came out of these meetings was a realization that I previously believed was just hollow rhetoric. It was the realization that in this New India the corporate sector is poised and ready to become involved in the social sector. Along with the influx of wealth, many people are waking up to the need for social involvement is entering into the hearts and minds. Of course there is still apathy and egocentrism among many, but this is a step in the right direction. Given the recent climate of anger and disgust towards corporate greed and excess, this is especially refreshing and promising. There is a profound interest in private/social partnerships, and if utilized properly and responsibly, the potential is limitless. If this really is the ‘New India,’ then sign me up.</p> <p><em>Posted by Neel Odedara</em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-14256132020199381902010-02-25T08:08:00.000-08:002010-03-07T22:55:44.795-08:00A Typical Day for a Caucasian Guy Working for an NGO in Bangalore and Other Aspects of that Caucasian Guy's Life<p>My writing, like the way I live, is quite unorganized.  To help this post make sense, I divided it into three sections: Typical Day, Working, and Living.</p> <p>I will go on random rants about things so e-mail me if you are confused.  I also have not taken any photos or written much while here.  I used to photograph and blog a lot, but recently at my work I have been at the computer, and I try to reduce the time I am in front of technology.  I will try to start writing again, but I mostly write down ideas and rants, and use the Internet to connect people and resources, from events to petitions, pledges and articles for peoples' movements (India has a lot) to causes for friends back home, so if you have anything you want to share, let me know.  On to the post... <br /><b> <br />Typical Day <br /></b>Every week I write to a friend back in the States who has never left the US.  He asked me to describe a typical day in Bangalore, where I live and work, so here it is: <br />I have started to embrace a patterned life, where I eat my three meals a day and try to do what I need to do, so a typical weekday is quite consistent for me. </p> <p>I wake up around 8-9ish and cycle to work.  I have never seen another Caucasian person cycle in the city so I get a lot of smiles from schoolkids as I block traffic for them so we can cut across busy intersections, stares from car drivers, and laughs from auto drivers ("<a href="http://www.extremetrifle.com/3/images/PimpedRickshaws.jpg">rickshaws</a>").  I even had an Indian take a photo of me and a couple of people yell, "white man on cycle" so I am broadening horizons on what modes of transit Caucasian people can tackle. </p> <p>On my ride to and from work I go by:</p> <ul> <li>the Hockey Association: field hockey is the national sport here.  The more you know... </li> <li>a huge Banyan tree: a type of tree that looks like it has 100 trunks as its branches root into the ground (crazy huge) that covers a Hindu temple and a bunch of snack stores.  My friend says they have to cut the branches for the ones near the streets or people will put a temple under them. </li> <li>a street with a bunch of pubs/bars (Bangalore, which has about seven million people, claims to have the most bars in the world which I think can't be true as I am from Milwaukee, the beer capital of the US) </li> <li>a couple of rich clubs and high-rise apartments (with slums tucked behind them in blocked off land) </li> <li>a <a href="http://img145.imageshack.us/img145/9836/179176970940692bbc65buy3.jpg">Hard Rock Cafe</a> in an old stoned building that says "Book Society" above it from when the British were here (right next to the Bible Society), which plays horrible rock music (the Hard Rock and the Bible Society) </li> <li><a href="http://www.spraguephoto.com/stock/images/9500_9999/9819%20Architecture%20India%20Saint%20Marks%20church%20Church%20of%20England%201850%20Bangalore.jpg">St. Marks</a>: a huge church (Bangalore has many huge churches, a splattering of mosques and a temple every other block) </li> <li><a href="http://www.shubhyatra.com/gifs/cubbon-park-bangalore.jpg">Cubbon Park</a>: the largest park in the city with statues of British colonial hotshots and Gandhi, a children's playground and train that goes through the park (both of which I have been kicked out of), a gazebo for weird concerts (and Caucasianpeople to read), thousands of trees from throughout the world, a pond for loud birds, and sometimes a cow just chilling there at night, and we lock eyes in the moonlight </li> <li>the new Metro, which is cutting down a lot of trees, destroying a lot of jobs, was decided upon without consulting any citizen groups, and cuts across the field where the two ultimate frisbee teams in Bangalore practice, but it is going to make Bangalore a world-class city (according to the Authorities here, all world-class cities have big metros so Bangalore needs a big Metro)! </li> <li>the huge <a href="http://www.clt20.in/new-images/chinnaswamy-stadium-full.jpg">cricket stadium</a>: the major sport here. I have never seen a girl playing, but games are always going on everywhere all day from early morning to late night. </li> <li>lots and lots of traffic and pollution, but I cycle around it all and get places quicker than any car could </li> <li>lots of street dogs and the occasional cow and two camels that are walked by kids on the street, but that's a rarity </li> </ul> <p>The city is considered the Garden City and the Pensioner's Paradise, both names having more meaning ten years ago before all the construction and high-rises and a lot of the city's small parks where people work out (aka old people walk in circles) are disappearing, but there are still a lot of trees: palm trees, ones with purple, white and pink flowers, and huge, tall ones that hawks and falcons will land on, and bats at night. </p> <p>Reflecting on what I see on my ride shows all the beauty there is in a chaotic, polluted city like Bangalore if one focuses on the positives.  The central part of Bangalore is also really good at hiding poverty by concentrating slum dwellers in certain communities, and deterring people from pissing on walls (an Indian pastime and one I have taken to quite well, especially at night (it is like camping to be under the stars, moon and tree tops)) by covering the city in religious images (although people just pee on the religion they dislike) and a series of <a href="http://www.thehindu.com/2009/09/14/images/2009091450870201.jpg">murals</a> of kangaroos (none in India), dinosaurs and dragons and big Caucasian guys with long hair battling them (some in Southwest India), and tourist images of the state, which were painted by local city government to help with elections, and which I must admit are rather beautiful, although local artists hate their tackiness (dinosaurs almost ate Jeff Goldblum; do not call them tacky). </p> <p>So after my cycle trip, I go to our office on the fourth floor of the United News of India office building.  I have been working for a non-governmental organization called <a href="http://www.janaagraha.org/">Janaagraha</a> (in Hindi, it means "force of the people") for the past 4-5ish months.  It is like an office in the US except this old barefoot tea lady walks around 3 times a day and gives people "chai", and power goes off often. <br />Janaagraha works on many urban issues, from traffic and transportation to infrastructure assessment to education and teaching schoolkids about local government to outreach and getting people to vote and get involved in local issues, such as garbage clean-up and civil defense patrols (neighborhood watch).  Our office takes up an entire floor and has about 40 computers with 40 full-time employees and many interns/volunteers coming in and out.  I think I remember reading that the average NGO worker stays for 6 months or so, and India with its one million plus NGOs is probably no exception.  Many people at work are surfing on Facebook and random applications and things, and life often reminds me of the ingenious film <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/office_space">Office Space</a>.</p> <p>Everyone is Indian, and they come from many different parts of India, but most of the folks are from the state of Karnataka that Bangalore is in.  I hear different types of music/languages once and a while, and some of the music is really funky and cool, especially the Tamil fusion music (mixes of western and Indian and classical, hip-hop, etc.).  There is one other Caucasian full-time employee, an Urban Planning student here for a year from New York, and then an Australia youth fellowship program sends people to our work every three months or so. </p> <p>Indians like to have lots of meetings so people are always moving around talking to each other and scheduling more meetings.  I used to go to a lot of them and that took up almost half of my day, but it was too much arguing, and we forget about actually consulting citizens and people.  I understand the democratic, collective decision making is timely, but our organizational structure seems to discourage it.  We aim to run like a corporation and have weekly Monday mornings where everyone reports to the group, but the floor and decision making goes to our two founders.  A lot of our work seems to be for people as opposed to working with them, but we do have a lot of focus groups, and a lot of our programs do engage with citizens on the ground so I guess the engagement is mixed.  <br />So a normal day at the office will be sitting around at the computer doing research, but sometimes we will have an event to launch one of our activities and bring in community members, government officials and such.  Once and a while I also go in the field, which means going out with our outreach team to different community leaders and recruit them to get more people to vote and do different political activities. <br />We also get an hour lunch during the day and there a lot of places to eat around here including an Alliance Francaise, which is the French Cultural Alliance, and has a nice courtyard with lots of different colored and sized trees and butterflies and a funny hyper dog and a dying cat that sounds like a grandfather choking and couching up smoke.  They have an open-air cafe and some Indian-French-Western food mix.  Half of the Indians bring in their own lunch (and I help them eat it on the roof), but half go to restaurants around here, mostly quick canteens and food halls that give you a bunch of rice and meat or veggies and you pay about 20 US cents.  I am learning Hindi in terms of the food names so that helps. <br />We also have a roof on top of our building like pretty much every building in India (and really outside of the West) where there is a guy that will bring up and sell tea.  There is a neat view where we can see the top parts of the major sights of Bangalore: tips of the skyscrapers which are mini rip-offs of the ones in New York, this government building which is a rip-off of Windsor Castle (where the Queen stays in England), some churches with bright red neon signs, some mosques, and a lot of trees, plus the hawks flying over you. <br />I usually leave work around 6 if there is something going on but some guys will stay late using the internet, doing more work, watching a cricket game (there is some soccer but they are all British teams), but sometimes I try to go to an art museum/gallery, a cultural center, or some social or cultural event, such as a political or social discussion (for instance on public spaces or people in rural tribal areas being displaced from their lands).  Generally, most of the art and discussions are bad as they are funded by large corporations so the art is about sales and the discussions are quite limited in their scope, but once and a while there is gem (I will describe some of the gems in a later post from community art shows to a <a href="http://www.andhranews.net/Entertainment/2009/December/5-Superman-Malegaon-flying-43303.asp">slum version of Superman</a> in "India's parallel movie universe" aka the best film I have ever seen).</p> <p>I usually end up cycling home, which is nicer and downhill, and have been going to Gold's Gym, a US chain, for the past month. There are a bunch of big buff Indian trainers and they are really dorky: always hitting on the one Caucasian lady in the gym and smacking me in the butt once and a while, saying "keep it up Nikolai", so I think that will be stopping soon.</p> <p>For dinner, I go out to a cheap Indian restaurant or there is a cheap Tibetan place (amazing steamed momos and soups) that I go to or I just hang with my roommates and read.  It is the best food in town, and our apartment's eating habits may be funding the Tibetan community of Bangalore.</p> <p>So I'd say that's a regular day here.  I try to go to different cities on the weekends as there are a lot of natural and cultural sights around.  We are in the middle of the country so we have the Arabian Sea to the West about fifteen hours bus ride away and the Bay of Bengal another ten hours away to the East and backwaters and coffee plantations to the South, and the rest of India with all its possibilities, contradictions, and craziness to the North. <br /><b>Working</b> <br />I discussed a lot of what Janaagraha does above (if you want to know more about any of their programs, let me know).</p> <p>I have worked on two main projects.  The first one was a training module for their electoral and civic engagement program.  Janaagraha is mobilizing thousands of citizens to work on different community and governance issues, with a focus on electoral registration, get out the vote and informed choice.  I worked with another Janaagraha member on designing community organizer trainings, so our volunteers could create teams, divide up roles, and plan strategies for mobilizing more community members for activities from voter registration to post-electoral social issues like cleaning up a river, the maintenance of a hospital, etc.  <br />The <a href="http://www.hks.harvard.edu/organizing/tools/Files/STORYTELLINGNOTES80505.doc">training module</a> we used was similar to trainings during labor and civil rights campaigns in the US, such as the <a href="http://neworganizing.com/sites/default/files/docs/Leading%20Change/Resources.pdf">farmers strikes in California</a> in the 70s and the <a href="http://spot.colorado.edu/%7Ewehr/5025B.TXT">Montgomery Bus boycotts</a> and other similar civil rights work in the 60s.  The training was co-opted by the Obama campaign for their registration and get out the vote drives and was highly successful, i.e. he won and got many people to register and vote in areas that never did.  The training focuses around narrative construction, or story-telling, in order to connect with other community members.  <br />To simplify the training for the purpose of a blog, we practice telling three stories: Story of Self (why you are doing the work), Story of Us (an example of how the community or a community has been successful in this work), and Story of Now (why this work is urgent).  For more readings on this, check out the <a href="http://neworganizing.com/node/43">new organizing institute</a>, especially this great article on <a href="http://www.webster.edu/%7Ecorbetre/philosophy/education/freire/freire-2.html">education</a>.</p> <p>My current project is creating a "democracy index", where nations try to figure out how to make their election processes better.  So essentially they try to get rid of corruption and having a bunch of dead people or animals who are registered to vote.  The index actually focuses more on reforming the processes of voting, such as registration and balloting, as opposed to larger structural reforms that deal with the number of political parties or campaign finance so it has a limited scope, but can be powerful in processes reform. </p> <p>I also help with Communications, Outreach, Research, etc. whenever needed so there are always things to do. <br /><b>Living</b> <br />Upon arriving in Bangalore, another AIF fellow, April, and I stayed with a friendly young couple.  We found them using the site<a href="http://couchsurfing.com/">couchsurfing</a>, an amazing network where people post profiles saying that they have a couch, floor space, an extra room, etc. for a certain number of people to stay.  You simply look up people by city and ask if they have space available.  I cannot recommend this site enough.  It's a great way to meet locals and see a new side of a city, from staying with the founder of the Icelandic version of Chipotle to the "Moroccan Bob Dylan" to a diplomat who took me to the home of the Hungarian President.</p> <p>There are over 2,000 couchsurfers on the Bangalore network so I received many replies to my request for a place to "crash".  For September/October in Bangalore, I stayed with two cousins from Bombay: one physicist who studied in London and the US, and a graphic designer who bought 15 packs of cigarettes to make ash trays out of cigarettes (quite beautiful designs) and is an amazing cook.  He is interested in opening up his kitchen to anyone who wants to cook, and he will make a couple dishes and you can eat what you want.</p> <p>I then moved in with a guy from Delhi, and we slept in the living room, while his collection of birds moved into his old bedroom.  So he lets them fly in the room and their cage doors are open and they have branches and such to land on.  His house has a zoo of insects outside of it.  One morning I looked at some leaf ornament he had and there was this huge bee (like the size of half a hand).  I looked at it for like a minute, and it didn't move so I said to myself, "Oh it's fake" and right when I thought that, it turned at me with blazing red eyes, and I ran away.  I was told it was a killer bee (not to be confused with <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIqrvUqp7Ok">killa beez</a>).</p> <p>My current place is right behind "<a href="http://jaaga.wikidot.com/start">Jaaga Creative Common Ground</a>" (photo below), a giant art tent with many different leveled-floors that hosts talks, dances, exhibits on art, technology, anything, etc.  I live with the co-creator of Jaaga who runs an incubator for social media and technology start-ups, an American who is works at <a href="http://www.babajob.com/">Babajob</a> (an organization that helps low-income folks find jobs), and three Indian guys that <a href="http://www.hashcube.com/">design Facebook applications</a> and other random technological thingy-ma-jiggers. </p> <p><img alt="http://www.theindiatube.com/images/stories/jaagac.jpg" src="http://www.theindiatube.com/images/stories/jaagac.jpg" /></p> <p>I think that is enough for an introduction.  In my next post, I will try to self-censor less and be more critical of what I have observed and experienced in India, especially given the disempowering nature of NGOs and the obsession with the Indian "middle class" and GDP growth and development at any cost, and the myth of volunteering and donating one's way to a better society.</p> <p> <br />But until then, <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BvcBpG5D4HA">All The Best</a> (don't ever watch this Bollywood film; absolutely horrible).</p> <p><em>Posted by <a href="mailto:smith.nikolai@gmail.com" target="_blank">Nikolai Smith</a></em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-67671329342196113262010-02-22T07:21:00.000-08:002010-03-03T23:19:04.766-08:00Mobilising for Livelihood : Women Farmers Demand Water<p>If I were to write an article, that would be the title. Which incidentally, I am supposed to be writing for my NGO. I have had nightmares about publishing this. Growing up I had no issues with the dark, just publishing.</p> <p>My NGO <b>JEEVIKA </b>has been busy. This is a lie. We are always busy because we are a grassroots women’s rights and livelihood NGO in South 24 Parganas, West Bengal. Right now, as in February 2010, we are in the middle of a community mobilisation effort with the local Nahazari panchayat over water supply for SRI farmers and the general farmers in the area. Jeevika works in 37 villages in Bishnupur Block 1 & 2 and Mahestala. The area our campaign is located in is called Bishnupur 2, or specifically with the Nahazari Panchayat which covers 20,104 people as of 2001 Indian census. These 20,104 people are a part of 12 Gram <i>Sangshads</i> (or small village localities), of which many are subsistence-farmers who rely on rice as their staple food.</p> <p>The irrigation canals that feed the fields have been overgrown with trees, weeds and garbage for the past 10 years and they don't have to be. If you clean them, baby Debashmita gets 5lbs fatter from the rice her parents can grow. I use hyperbole but here is an instance where the issue of food security is a largely political one, not one requiring modernization, funds, and technological fixes. Here, if the community mobilises, change will happen!</p> <p>By the way, the villagers on their own locked up the Panchayat head in his office two weeks ago demanding that the money held for the past 10 years allocated for digging out the canals be released. Jeevika staff was not there.</p> <p>Rather than write a long dry article with a title like "Mobilising for Livelihood…", here is a photo journal account of the incredible events taking shape in West Bengal. I hope Debashmita gets fat soon.</p> <p><b><u>Nutshell</u></b></p> <p>JEEVIKA started a sustainable agriculture project called SRI (Syst. of Rice Intensification http://www.sri-india.net) two years ago. It is a method of rice cultivation whose variations have been in practice for centuries but was recently packaged and scaled into a global movement. Today, it cuts 20-50% of water use, practices local seed collection, and raises the yield per plant from 2tons-per hector up to 15tons/ha. I’ll repeat that: 2t to 15t.</p> <p>Jeevika has been in the community for 20 years and the same issue hampering food security consistently comes up. Folks say, "Sure we’ll try SRI, but we have no water."</p> <p><b><u>Why no water?</u></b></p> <p>According to villagers, the local Panchayat hasn't spent the 6-10 lakhs allocated to digging the irrigation canals, for the past 10 years.</p> <p>Productivity for subsistence-farmers of the area that rely on a system of irrigation canals or khaals has gone way down. It is particularly hard on rice that is dependent on a specific amount of water for the paddy to form. Or else "cheetey-dhan" happens, or empty paddy.</p> <p><b><u>WhatHaHappanWass..</u></b></p> <p>After a series of community meetings with the Panchayat whose heads were consistently and conspicuously absent from, the lock-in happened in early February. This was without any JEEVIKA staff around. Long story short, rice season was gearing up and after hearing no word from the Panchayat, villagers took it on themselves to lock the head in his office after he failed to attend a community-meeting he'd during the Panchayat Mela (Festival). The villagers demanded that the cash for the canals be handed to JEEVIKA, so that the NGO could implement the digging campaign.</p> <p>JEEVIKA was like, whoa, heck no.</p> <p>We immediately started documenting the process and went with our community women to talk to the BDO, or Block Development Officer, the higher up from the Panchayat head. We started a petition and got nearly 300 (of the Panchayat's own constituents) and on February 5th we went to submit it as agreed:</p> <p>*Though notice had been given, the BDO officer was not present</p> <p></p> <p></p> <p></p> <p><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6311.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image002" border="0" alt="clip_image002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_-s9yhibBwQcz0XtYdDTl4voKZ7pedTSgDvFd1_S1WPKEPJ0a3xyD47K_e9DWTgU620AyFF8R9T_3n9q6zpOITF3SoLpuTDXX3dv9HGKdx9daEzEopJX5-LbGB3QQvHs8bNEvelQt1Gkx/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br />35 ladies and 5 men, all smiles on their way in to the BDO office. <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6312.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image004" border="0" alt="clip_image004" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36skGyA1EI/AAAAAAAAAq8/ekulYsydGy0/clip_image004%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="165" /></a> <br />Climbing the BDO office stairs. <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6317.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image006" border="0" alt="clip_image006" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36slNYw8iI/AAAAAAAAArA/B9ZeE2q-VtA/clip_image006%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br />Handing the petition over to the BDO-proxy. ~280 signatures. <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6334.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image008" border="0" alt="clip_image008" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36slcmm1iI/AAAAAAAAArE/qeVYww2Iqd4/clip_image008%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br />The meeting begins. Proxy .. ‘Well, we can’t really do much.’ <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6339.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image010" border="0" alt="clip_image010" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36smEnhy8I/AAAAAAAAArI/75o42UdljoA/clip_image010%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br />Getting the receipt for the petition submission. <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6348.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image012" border="0" alt="clip_image012" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36smpRGKLI/AAAAAAAAArM/ChJChVe6Uhc/clip_image012%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br />Aroti-di. Look how determined they are about the canals and the absence of the BDO officer. <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6357.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image014" border="0" alt="clip_image014" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUy5_t2tXsuGSWQSZalGySFwcYrqP09e6rySNwAd7wn65tUF6tlpKkecn1MjhdPQC086OejNdl-Ey09KufiNnniZuyiqC0yhPxPKxuehFuDwZb_Ss8C_L7YYHfw8IB7lvSbL0gaujsCTd7/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br /></p> <p>Okay, in between there was a veritable showdown. After getting the receipt for the petition, a few Panchayat members came down and called JEEVIKA names. These things clearly happen when emotions are high but the JEEVIKA ladies were on fire. The couple of men that were with our group were the ones placating or pulling the women and Panchayat members back. Anytime a direct action happens, the gendered lines become very stark. The Panchayat men were not going to hit a band of women, the women knew they were not going to be hit. When my NGO engages in other public actions, it is strategic that the oldest and friendliest women is sent to the police office to get permits. Strategic essentialism. Then there are spaces that require more critical dialogue to unravel like when women begin to conflate their personal histories and internalization of violence with activism. The danger is having anger or trauma be the primary motivation while reacting to police, politicians or other men that are symbolic of authority. Activism isn’t about vendettas.</p> <p>Women in our community experience gendered violence in everyday life, both structural and in the form of domestic relationships. Gender and poverty act simultaneously to doubly exploit women. JEEVIKA navigates this not by making foot soldiers or setting up clashes with the state. Indoctrinating survivors of violence (which many women in the community we work with are) would be quite dangerous and manipulative. JEEVIKA holds year-long gender and patriarchy workshops along with all their programming that take a holistic approach to analyzing these dynamics at play, both as lived on the body and the more theoretical-structural level.</p> <p>Dolon (in purple) reminding everyone the importance of being strategic in order to get the canals dug in tim <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6359.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image016" border="0" alt="clip_image016" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36snvqcOSI/AAAAAAAAArU/WAct5Bholg0/clip_image016%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a> <br />Dolon (in purple) reminding everyone the importance of being strategic in order to get the canals dug in time. <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6366.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image018" border="0" alt="clip_image018" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36sodRaomI/AAAAAAAAArY/TLk2nd7G4do/clip_image018%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="164" height="244" /></a> <a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/BDO%20storm/?action=view&current=IMG_6378.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image020" border="0" alt="clip_image020" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36spPpFpgI/AAAAAAAAArc/SoOpJwFOl8g/clip_image020%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="164" height="244" /></a> <br />Babies at the BDO. / Example of an unmaintained canal or KHAAL. That's supposed to be water feeding the fields.</p> <p><b></b></p> <p>Results</p> <p></p> <p></p> <p>The BDO officer was missing. His proxy and Panchayat cohorts received the petition, told us they couldn't do much, and that we should get an engineer to see the canals. Then one Panchayat member called JEEVIKA thieves. JEEVIKA women got really riled, some of them took it so personally that what resulted was a face off between lady farmers and 3 Panchayat members and the BDO-proxy.... who by the way, ended up leaving work early in an auto...</p> <p><b></b></p> <p>The Canals</p> <p></p> <p></p> <p>Work has already started in terms of the canal digging and we are going to bring in an engineer indeed. Now that community pressure is at a high, they'll most likely release the rest of the money. The plan is to have the canals dug before the rice is affected.</p> <p>Target, strategize, mobilize.</p> <p>----- supplementary background ---- </p> <p><b></b></p> <p>About Rice (The Context)</p> <p></p> <p></p> <p>Rice is the staple food for subsistence farmers in the subcontinent. The SRI programme takes a lot of initial groundwork to convince (or incentivize as per other models) farmers to implement. Essentially, NGOs and environmental/livelihood groups come in and tell the farmer to stop and reverse the techniques they have been using for centuries. CENTURIES! Not just this, but to experiment with their staple crop.</p> <p>JEEVIKA is a grassroots organization. It has been around for 20 years. The groundwork for the canal digging campaign began through the conversations we had with farmers about SRI. We began with community surveys to see if there was interest in the programme. Then we began our official SRI initiative through discussion with farmers (lady farmers!). Out of this grew the canal digging campaign. Once the canals are dug, both SRI as well as any farmer in our area will be able to have an incredible leg up in ensuring food security.</p> <p>The following are photos of the regular SRI initiative from which the foundations for the canals digging campaign began.</p> <p></p> <p><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0343.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image022" border="0" alt="clip_image022" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36sqMZRAdI/AAAAAAAAArg/3Ozswg8ZL8E/clip_image022%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="139" /></a> <br />Dolon (the NGO as.dir/my boss) hanging out during seed distribution <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0344.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image024" border="0" alt="clip_image024" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36sqlE95PI/AAAAAAAAArk/xTap6meu3ck/clip_image024%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="138" /></a> <br />Incentivizing SRI: Seeds in the immediate market folks buy from vary in quality. One thing we do is go straight to the local seed dist. company and do some quality check ourselves.  Which is why my "office/desk” has been occupied for the past 2 month. Ha.</p> <p><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0345.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image026" border="0" alt="clip_image026" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36srbLE8BI/AAAAAAAAAro/Jumqpw78erg/clip_image026%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="138" /></a> <br />I don’t know everyone’s name. I know a lot of people who do gender training because, well, I can add to it. SRI is something entirely different. I plug-in for strategy, documentation and MIS ect. & evidently publishing. </p> <p><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0353.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image028" border="0" alt="clip_image028" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP_Uh6MoRstjTfhY1pQ06dUQngjCTyJRAYJXrHkawbtdxbxf309LE4NjOsGaJuskFYbZMTgvtK8ZSyh9S2U5-BVM4NcSNNsh_yjaS6qRxq_UrprBetBgLuvsFF5aqIlHshP8N9sOz3pxgA/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="138" /></a></p> <p>We were distributing seeds and filling in our "registration" and MIS (to chart the progress of the paddy ect).</p> <p><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0354.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image030" border="0" alt="clip_image030" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36ssXRBwEI/AAAAAAAAArw/vdwju0rkH04/clip_image030%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="139" /></a> <br />I hate taking photos without being asked to in fear to reproducing the National Geographic aesthetic. These photos are screen captures from a film we are shooting documenting JEEVIKA’s SRI programme to show for rural outreach next season.</p> <p><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0363.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image032" border="0" alt="clip_image032" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36ss7DiibI/AAAAAAAAAr0/183d2c1KgeQ/clip_image032%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="138" /></a> <br />ah yes yes, potash and boron says Raticanta-da.. yes, yes <br /><a href="http://s661.photobucket.com/albums/uu334/nafisakolkata/screnshotsSRI/?action=view&current=IMGA0377.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image034" border="0" alt="clip_image034" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36sti77c0I/AAAAAAAAAr4/UtafUO8yGzQ/clip_image034%5B3%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="141" /></a></p> <p>Raticanda who is fulltime staff was a farmer and Aroti-di, Chobi-di and Chandana-di are project staff and also farmers. In other words, they plant what they eat for lunch. Depending on how the KHAAL digging campaign goes, hopefully these ladies will try SRI on their plots for another year.</p> <p><strong><em>Nafisa Ferdous is working at Jeevika Development Society with a rural women-owned microfinance federation and SRI agriculture in West Bengal.  For more information on Jeevika's activities or Nafisa's projects email her at </em></strong><a href="mailto:NafisaFerdous@gmail.com"><strong><em>NafisaFerdous@gmail.com</em></strong></a></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-40466879333195370932010-02-19T07:15:00.001-08:002010-02-19T07:15:57.320-08:00Seva Mandir<p>I’m the kind of person that likes to be an active member of my community, wherever or for however long I find myself there. Engaging in community activities is a great way to get to know the place and the people where you live and to satisfy one’s sense of giving. My first few months at <a href="http://www.sevamandir.org/">Seva Mandir</a> had me working very long hours ensconced in collecting and crunching statistical data, so getting out and meeting my NGO neighbors in my free time also served to keep me sane.</p> <p>I was surprised to find a plethora of organizations working here in Udaipur and it was not difficult to find a number of activities and projects to sink my free-time teeth into. </p> <p><b>Feasting Ethically</b></p> <p>In late November I had the privilege of participating in an <a href="http://www.ethicalfeast.net/background">Ethical Feast</a>. Organized by a collective of local “back to the land” focused NGOs, the week-long series of events were centered on a celebration of local food traditions and an open investigation of food security. Limited by my work schedule, I was only able to join one of the week’s many events: an evening of feasting on traditional foods that were both grown exclusively within the host village, as well as prepared by village cooks. </p> <p>The event opened with a special puja honoring the intention of the event and all those that made the meal possible (the local organizers, volunteers, farmers, and cooks) while blessing the coming year’s harvest. By night’s end, close to 600 people had strolled through the huge tent to eat a delicious meal, (prepared in enormous pit-fired pots and served on traditional leaf plates), and to enjoy a cultural program of play-acting, singing, and dancing. Those of us lucky enough to have beds under the tent that night were serenaded through the night by the spiritually musical expressions of the area’s sadhus. </p> <p>The following day was packed with visits to a local organic farm, an organic farming education center, a local potter, lunch with Jhadol’s Maharana (former king of the region), and a gorgeous sunset at a newly built eco-tourism resort. </p> <p><b>Creative Activism</b></p> <p>Just down the street from my office and home is one of my favorite development organizations, <a href="http://www.swaraj.org/shikshantar/">Shikshantar</a>, ‘The People’s Institute for Rethinking Education and Development’. Refusing to call themselves an NGO, Shikshantar is a collective of highly-motivated people from all walks of life who work together on a number of interesting projects. Together they focus on living simply; reducing and recycling waste; supporting local food systems and encouraging the production of traditional foods; healthy eating; alternative energy and transportation; and the like – all through a highly-participatory, bottom-up approach. The first time I met their Coordinator / Co-Founder (he would never give himself the title of ‘Director’ and likely prefers just to be called a Learning Activist), <a href="http://www.swaraj.org/shikshantar/who.html">Manish Jain</a>, he explained to me that Shikshantar only works on projects that people are interested in starting and running themselves, meaning that most of their work is essentially requested of them by the community rather than the organization identifying needs and consequently initiating projects. </p> <p>Over the last five months, I have joined the folks at Shikshantar in a number of projects and events, most notably: </p> <ul> <li>A bicycle rally to raise awareness and interest in using bicycling as a more environmentally, healthy means of transportation: close to 100 of us biked around the city, stopping traffic every so often for street performances messaging the environment and healthy living alternatives. </li> </ul> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rFmE7VEI/AAAAAAAAAqY/1i086JcMjDs/s1600-h/1%20Bikes%20ready%20to%20rally%20with%20environmental%20messages%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="1 Bikes ready to rally with environmental messages" border="0" alt="1 Bikes ready to rally with environmental messages" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2SkxkAEsF9ucFSWsqik6saVa1gYn8livv6APVBm2fHgNgeg1G67Yvm57OOUMwI0m-_zbPbQrPcAXA-Rp5qUGpFnPXhf7BlbG_fXVthNPx4qLQDDx1HRqT2Grimqt7vwQiVW5lRbmHhKZ/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rHu6fIpI/AAAAAAAAAqg/nZpkKFxC7C8/s1600-h/6%20Stopping%20traffic%20for%20a%20skit%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="6 Stopping traffic for a skit" border="0" alt="6 Stopping traffic for a skit" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rIOEm18I/AAAAAAAAAqk/-sXMVGh99eQ/6%20Stopping%20traffic%20for%20a%20skit_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <p>A Green Theatre Festival: a week-long series of environmentally-focused performances of theatre, dance, music, and poetry held in 4 different residential neighborhoods throughout Udaipur. Good friends and fellow Seva volunteers even wrote and performed a half-Hindi/English song about their love and admiration for Mother Nature – they were a real hit with the kids! </p> <ul> <li>Various speakers: Sadly, upon my arrival to town I had just missed <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helena_Norberg-Hodge">Helena Norberg-Hodge</a>, Founder and Director of the <a href="http://www.isec.org.uk/">International Society for Ecology and Culture</a> whose best known, perhaps, for her work in Ladakh. I was, however, able to meet and interact with the L.A.-based <a href="http://www.pathtofreedom.com/">Dervaes Family</a> of the <a href="http://www.homegrownrevolutionfilm.com/">Homegrown Revolution</a> fame; and the Executive Director and Co-Founder of the <a href="http://www.ecoliteracy.org/">Center for Ecoliteracy</a>, Zenobia Barlow. </li> <li>And a few thought-provoking films: <a href="http://www.storyofstuff.com/">The Story of Stuff</a> and <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=daSFXZT-HYk">Addicted to Plastic</a>. </li> </ul> <p><b>Dog Whispering</b></p> <p>Like much of India, there is no shortage of street dogs in Udaipur – many of which have become my friends. This, as you can possibly imagine, comes at the unabashed shock and amusement of many a neighbor and passer-by. The crowd was especially large the day that I stopped in the street to love one of my (many) favorites who feeds on the community dumpster down my street. I had been energetically petting her when a motion in my periphery lifted my eyes in time to see not only 4 stranger dogs approaching for their turn, but also one of the dumpster cows! It never ceases to amaze me when dogs I have never met before come lovingly running up to me, somehow intuitively knowing that I’m just that kind of girl. </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rJKRVY4I/AAAAAAAAAqo/jWYjsAFI4JU/s1600-h/4%20grazing%20cows%20near%20my%20house%20%28a%20daily%20scene%20-%20usually%20with%20dogs%20too%29%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="4 grazing cows near my house (a daily scene - usually with dogs too)" border="0" alt="4 grazing cows near my house (a daily scene - usually with dogs too)" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rJjcAS_I/AAAAAAAAAqs/qYJL_BlyPIk/4%20grazing%20cows%20near%20my%20house%20%28a%20daily%20scene%20-%20usually%20with%20dogs%20too%29_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <p>It didn’t take the animal lover in me long to hear about <a href="http://animalaidunlimited.com/">Animal Aid Unlimited</a>, a much-needed animal hospital and shelter on the outskirts of Udaipur. The 8-year organization was started by two foreigners and is now operated by both Indians and foreigners, professionals and volunteers. It serves as the only such facility in a dense urban area with a severely-lacking garbage collection system, the ubiquitous cultural tolerance of street animals, and therefore a high ownerless animal population. Animal Aid’s purpose is to “both bring relief to suffering animals, and to awaken compassion among people” and they are refuge and healers to street dogs with any number of ailments, mistreated or injured donkeys, and cows, most of which suffer the gastro-effects of plastic-laced dumpster dining.</p> <p>My first visit to Animal Aid’s facility was on the back of my motorcycle, carrying one of our street dogs who had turned up with a seemingly-overnight severe attack of <a href="http://www.wisegeek.com/what-is-mange.htm">mange</a> (a disease caused by parasitic mites who eat away their host’s skin). We were able to find a space for him in the mange pens and after a few weeks of fabulous care, including mange shots and healthy meals, he happily returned home well on his way to recovery and clearly appreciative of being given the chance at survival. </p> <p>During one of my visits, I had occasion to strike up a conversation with Julie, a Canadian volunteer of three years. The facility had decided to help their recent budget crunch by growing fields of high-nutrient grass for their donkeys and cows. Julie and her husband were disturbed to see the flood irrigation method in use by the facilities manager and thought there must be a better, more water-conscious method available. I was able to connect them with staff of our Natural Resources Development Unit of Seva Mandir (the unit in which I am based) who is now working with them to create a drip-irrigation plan that includes applying for federal assistance to offset some of the upfront costs. Considering the recent financial struggles of the organization, this is a welcomed, exciting relief. </p> <p>That being said, if you happen to be an animal lover like me and are looking for a good, effective place to put up some good ‘ole tax deductible dollars (rupees, or any other currency of your choice) towards a reputable and effective organization – consider <a href="http://animalaidunlimited.com/yourdonation.html">Animal Aid</a>. I am extraordinarily impressed with their facility, care, and scope. You can be assured that your money will be put to excellent use and many an animal life would be saved. Thanks!</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rKU7UufI/AAAAAAAAAqw/Y8oGjpRUjxU/s1600-h/DSC00817%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="DSC00817" border="0" alt="DSC00817" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S36rK4qgCeI/AAAAAAAAAq0/mDKlWmakQfA/DSC00817_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <p><em>Jenny Becksted is based in Udaipur (Rajasthan) with </em><a href="http://www.sevamandir.org"><em>Seva Mandir</em></a><em>'s Natural Resources Development Unit. As her role in a research project looking at the status and use of Common Lands in Rajasthan is currently on hold, she is excited to get back into clean water projects. She will also begin delving into the world of applied alternative energy technologies.</em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-39463241227690837282010-02-01T07:17:00.001-08:002010-02-01T07:17:46.429-08:00Spare Some Change<p>When my grandmother tells me stories about her life, she reiterates: "The biggest curse is to live in a time of change." I've always understood my grandmother's aversion to change as a product of her always-changing life: she has survived the times of Hitler and Stalin, from failing Five Year Plans to Yeltsin's inappropriate antics to Putin's economical victories at the expense of civil rights.  My life, too, has not been stagnant: the fall of Communism, the trans-Atlantic move to America, my life in Texas and Chicago, and the fifteen pages of entry and departure stamps in my passport all point to an inconstant existence. Yet for me, change has always meant progress.</p> <p>Transplanted from one of our city’s most prestigious lyceums in Russia to a school deemed “academically unacceptable” by the state of Texas, differences in educational systems were highlighted for me since childhood. During my undergraduate career, I explored the schools and administrative policies in Chicago, Texas, Ghana, and post-Soviet Russia. All had worked to battle the same problems: of gender bias, curricula choices, teacher quality, funding – in isolation. To me, it has always been strange that educators are so reluctant to learn from each other. As India was amidst many fascinating reforms and processes of decentralization in education, I decided to welcome another change in my life and set off for the subcontinent.</p> <p>When I arrived at the Rishi Valley Institute of Educational Resources (RIVER) in rural Andhra Pradesh, I expected a challenging and stimulating work environment. Being used to the fact that traditional educational methods have not been radically renewed in hundreds of years, despite the constant rhetoric of reform, I had no expectations of seeing a paradigm shift in the world of education. However, unlike my grandmother, the Raos, a power-couple who invented the innovative multi-grade multi-level methodology used by RIVER, as well as who currently run the organization, strove for change. They saw around them under-appreciated land, frightened and apathetic students, and teachers lacking the tools to be effective in the classroom. And they dedicated their lives to change this reality.</p> <p>The multi-grade multi-level (MGML) methodology fostered by RIVER is complex and multi-faceted. It is a student-centered model, where children can learn at their own pace. To describe it simply, each village school (RIVER runs 12 satellite schools) is established by the rural community to house around 40 children in grades one through five. All are taught by a single teacher in a one-room school. Currently, there are three subjects taught: Telugu, maths, and environmental science. The curriculum is structured around a single “learning ladder” made up of many steps. A collection of steps make up a “milestone,” each with its own learning objective. Each step, denoted by a logo (for example, “rabbit”) and a number, matches up with an activity laid out on an “activity card” which can be easily found by the corresponding logo and number. Students find their place on the ladder, locate the corresponding card, and quickly get to work. The classroom is filled with happy, interested students, and the teacher spends her/his time on facilitating the learning of all students.</p> <p>There are many nuances to the methodology. There is grouping and activity type; there is high community involvement, women’s empowerment, adult literacy, a health care component, land reforestation, and local arts, just to name a few. It is a true paradigm shift in the classroom, and it has great potential. Furthermore, the Institute is a proponent of collaboration in education and readily trains teachers and policy-makers from all over the world to trans-create MGML into their own local contexts and languages. The beauty of the program is that while the methodology gets exported, the content stays local, as each party adopting the program designs their own lesson plans to be immediately relevant to the students’ surroundings. Currently, over 16 Indian states, as well as Nepal, Germany, and Ethiopia, use RIVER’s methodology.</p> <p>Yet, change doesn’t stop there. Each year, RIVER asks teachers to re-evaluate the curriculum to ensure that all cards are relevant to the children’s learning. The Institute takes tips from other states and nations using the methodology to improve best practices. Another big transformation to take place next year is the addition of English as a Second Language classes in RIVER schools. Thus, my ten months in India are spent assisting in the creation of materials to teach English to third and fourth grade children using MGML methodology. The journey hasn’t been easy. But, then again, change never is. We have struggled with vowel sounds, timing, teacher training, and thousands of other minute details. But we have also learned so much: about just how much our students can do despite the nonsensical structure of the English alphabet, about how fast our teachers can learn despite their already heavy workload, and about how passionate we all are to bring a much-needed change to education despite all the obstacles that stand in our way. </p> <p>In my short four and some months at Rishi Valley, I have learned much about myself. I have gained a number of fantastic friendships that will last for years to come. And I have decided that when I grow old and share stories with my grandchildren, I will never fear the transformations in life. Instead, I'd like to point to the history books and say, “See how much has changed? See how far we’ve come? I was a part of that.”</p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S2bwWRdFJ1I/AAAAAAAAAqA/1v-F7wXELoU/s1600-h/IMG_0643%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0643" border="0" alt="IMG_0643" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyx-wtVMTH5t9BneRjN27U4E5y2Aph7BsdlsLGpMlxOwg51HJA3GZjVgO1mRzI422oXl0NgmUkFeE5_xJU97bS7YybWJp9lWcNfmhw2zHC6CB0O8Y8S0Q3Ua6b6osmCVt3YCGuG7bzACpJ/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p><em>All of the rural students marching in a procession for Sports Day.</em></p> <p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH6AtlC7g5EnXZ6cQ50xQVrW5qEn8hVVwdBEs-TUzTaMUZFrqG-otGhs-0LuhJ8mX9WvQ7xuCqGsU78uyUf-JYPmRaxjzwZHGLkHEKYdywgxDX3WYQ31PSDiyT9hTkl36Mycb24GskAAAY/s1600-h/IMG_0673%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0673" border="0" alt="IMG_0673" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiz8z_37tPEoaUkaggjLWzcOeypN9SuGxundr6vlrAkWggkHozrGVs1E1ZuqrBWSkgMp1aF-0JUwbYRfnZJdQYYfYatlBHtUfd8LwY6CLPFkQIG7Dh21_zQ-4CyJSUX7SIYlqleV_d9_2/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p><em>Some girls from our satellite schools enjoying Pongal celebrations.</em></p> <p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQN5qxazpQfQG-mowgxeKk6LN2o3cc-Fi_LMMCOtg_AVSVirNsS_SYc5RZUklQ45R8hRYGaEzHeG_HZKOAIny2QTGT2pyFoQyFCa-3VGSG3djww3cw7aMDc3Cp83j_F4za2XgyzZSisWI1/s1600-h/IMG_0598%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0598" border="0" alt="IMG_0598" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S2bwey4KQSI/AAAAAAAAAqU/ALYSMQZUKcE/IMG_0598_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <p><em>Children dancing for Sports Day Opening Ceremony.</em></p> <p>Posted by Tatiana Rostovtseva</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-50305134635691923172010-01-25T02:15:00.001-08:002010-01-25T02:15:02.478-08:00Development: progression of human societies<p><i></i> <p>What are we working towards?</p> </p> <p>What is development? Starting from the time I began working with marginalized populations and now further amplified with each and everyday’s awakening to the majestic snow covered Himalayan peaks, this question has been an ever present discourse of enormous proportion for me. I suppose at the present moment I would explain “Development” as: An umbrella term widely used to describe efforts toward the progress of human societies inclusive of advances in the expansion of land, technology, business, international relations, sustainability, and aid to disenfranchised communities with a sector comprised of varied institutions and organizations ranging from NGO’s to Banks (both state and private) to Governments.</p> <p>Efforts towards building clinics, treating illnesses, fixing roads, providing microfinance schemes, distributing technology, creating jobs, constructing schools, etc are often individually tossed under the general classification of development work for impovered populations.</p> <p>But is this enough?</p> <p>Is it enough to build a HIV testing facility for Female Sex Workers without raising awareness about the prevention and transmission of the virus, or without providing guidance for job security once their ability to be involved in the “flesh trade” has expired, or without providing legal action for those illegally trafficked against their will? Even if a clinic exits with extended services and care i.e. legal protection, self help groups, condom distribution, sex education, etc, will this be able to protect these women from the structural violence or a system of inequalities that prevent social equity and access to available resources and ultimately their survival? Although, collectively these efforts aid in the livelihoods of underserved communities, what is actual development within the communities and target populations that our programs operate?</p> <p>I have continued to learn through my work in India that in the context of serving the poor, to refer to development as a growth in the size of a community or a simple increase of financial gains within a target population would not be correct, though these are often presented as solid examples of a development within society. It has become clear to me that development should be looked at as increases in strength, capacity, and complexity within a community. It is social change, where a community becomes more complex, adding institutions, increasing its collective power, and changing qualitatively in its organization.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPZXussUIVeUTktGcOQi6wp198tTX7ZFZaKWtd9QjFVN8qdUQl6G8q_ZxdebCiEUpKosQnrRFpnfx0UtsiuTZqlOfoehNWKH0AFLlsTLChF8e4DQPNf4Bg326jkyL97XLkYwOPTJjN5yLt/s1600-h/15133_905247694226_2509002_50868707_5041440_n%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="15133_905247694226_2509002_50868707_5041440_n" border="0" alt="15133_905247694226_2509002_50868707_5041440_n" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S11uzswLAJI/AAAAAAAAAps/OBNrX_eKfuw/15133_905247694226_2509002_50868707_5041440_n_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> <a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S11u1-8AwHI/AAAAAAAAApw/lZ2LnNhFVns/s1600-h/15133_905247823966_2509002_50868725_902393_n%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="15133_905247823966_2509002_50868725_902393_n" border="0" alt="15133_905247823966_2509002_50868725_902393_n" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S11u4vxpcVI/AAAAAAAAAp0/WGdZvLmKyR0/15133_905247823966_2509002_50868725_902393_n_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ouB8fLsqtu5QHLy1ViWg6FG_Re0GHbhv56ayA5jeBSaX7FZAX7amZKUrdMvc6SacNfAMOwIsHr8C_33a2LbDhNmlvREOPWoOe00kUb9wrhE9BTE5XlpjfTpa-iyUL-Srr4ubSmUlNSJL/s1600-h/15133_905269280966_2509002_50869669_5559565_n%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="15133_905269280966_2509002_50869669_5559565_n" border="0" alt="15133_905269280966_2509002_50869669_5559565_n" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S11vIO727kI/AAAAAAAAAp8/2hGJi_Mu9Z8/15133_905269280966_2509002_50869669_5559565_n_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> <br /><em>Lavina Shahani is working in Uttarakhand on a Targeted HIV Intervention for Female Sex Workers with KAGAS, a rural livelihoods NGO.</em></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-78957254566298298502010-01-07T19:30:00.000-08:002010-01-24T04:50:04.408-08:00Garhwali Morning<p>Before the first adhan or alarm, you wake. Even the warmest blood cowers from this cold, but Sirius paces the Greater Dog along the horizon, invigorating. Shuffling feet interrupt the December silence until ten settle as statues in AnandJi's room. He is your mentor and he opens meditation:</p> <p>“<i>Watch your thoughts.”</i></p> <p>Thoughts: they shroud the will, burden concentration. Your mind already strays.</p> <p><i>"Sit relaxed, in any comfortable posture.  Your body is straight but relaxed."</i></p> <p>After meditation, everyone gathers to study and socialize, blanketed and shawled. You will join the bundled litter, comfortable in company, together.</p> <p><i>"Feel the weight of your body on the ground.  Feel your whole body like a baby sitting in the lap of mother Earth."</i></p> <p>Within your closed eyelids, the sun beckons below the eastern peaks as a crackle of kindling lures all to the kitchen. Mansura plucks radish, spinach, and cilantro from the fields; Jyoti bathes them in runoff from the melting snows; Shanti tosses them in a wok; Garima douses them in masala. Children deliver fresh buffalo milk and to boil it, AnandJi hews a trunk that days ago you trekked to fell.</p> <p><i>"Sit like a rock, rooted and immovable."</i></p> <p>A bell rings hollow—school.  Teachers spring down the stone path as students climb from the villages. Everyone races the second bell and the start of mindfulness exercises, first standing outdoors then inside, seated.  Rigid, teachers model proper posture, essential against those furtively scanning the room. Teachers join APV to evolve through mindfulness; oxymoronically, their introspection is always displayed for the students.  After meditation, the tabla bag unzips launching a frenzy. Singing, swaying, and drumming dominate the assembly before kids run to their classes.</p> <p><i>"You can feel your breath. Now see how many parts of the body can you feel at the same time."</i></p> <p>Teachers animate an enthusiasm for learning through practical experiences.  To study botany students go to the plants.  Churning in ascent, toes shed stinging wind, frosted rocks, errant branches.  Students, jellybean-capped with mismatched mittens, chatter despite heaving lungs. Atop the ridge lies a grassy field, icy peaks of the Chinese border visible to the east. The life cycle and health benefits of rose hips are today's lesson. The class submerges beside you in the thicket, thorns bloodying skin and tearing clothes. Curiosity counters pain, and you return bearing both fruit and dialogue.  Questions about plant structure, function, and utility will dominate the week.</p> <p><i>"Be as effortless as possible. You are just observing what is taking place.  The body is sitting effortlessly. You are just a witness." </i></p> <p>In the afternoon you observe the longest-tenured teacher, Jaya, direct a classroom of the impoverished, malnourished, at-risk, and orphaned. Colored beads and dramatization engage fractions through sharing; students count, divide, trade, and donate their beads within the framework of a mock village dispute. Attentions lapse but Jaya, with deftness belying the task's complexity, reclaims them quickly: “Close your eyes, sit, watch your breath.” The students meditate. When eyes reopen the lesson continues, focus regained.</p> <p>“<i>To live innocently is to live without the boundary of ego; to live without ego is to live in harmony with the whole.”</i></p> <p>After school hours begin in the kitchen. To absorb the recipes, you help daily despite a faculty rotation. Less satisfying tasks—chopping onions, peeling garlic—are often yours, but you work faithfully to absorb the atmosphere as well. After a Vedic chant, the scrum called dinner, and the necessary cleaning, everyone scurries to the fire. Insufficient electricity barely ignites the filaments, so tonight your English lesson devolves into candlelit storytelling.</p> <p>“<i>And now, in the end, let us pray for the well-being of all creatures:  May all creatures move from darkness to light.”</i></p> <p>You do pray, for the sustenance of the community and the happiness of the children.  You pray for growth, both for yourself and the philosophy so that others might too grow.  You pray for those surrounding statues, a family whose loves you reciprocate, a family who shares both the brutal trials and exhilarating joys that fall daily in Garhwal.   </p> <p>Another session lost in thoughts, never-ending.  Still, they have broken a smile, invisible in the unlit room.</p> <p>“<i>Open your eyes now.”</i></p> <p>Flex the ankles, stretch the legs, roll the neck.</p> <p>“<i>Turn on the light.”</i></p> <p>The statues shudder as shawls unravel and the room empties.  You close your eyes, inhale gently, exhale vigorously, and enjoy your first clear moment of the morning.  It is 4:30am; a day, already begun, begins.  </p> <p><i><a href="mailto:charles.iannuzzi@gmail.com">Charles Iannuzzi</a> works on curriculum and syllabus development at <a href="http://www.apvschool.org/">APV School</a> in Anjanisain, Uttarakhand.</i></p> <p><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2zEv0W82CYbIWcOU2BKQE1R1vAuuFgapr3WQt9GY1F7fsi9KdA9Bn9dXuvDlIyTwtnARhYyI64vJQ4kQl0FVaPBhdyJO28jYFKLW8lr9glH96WYN6L-5MNaNckYS8DwMMpi9GXxThr-9S/s1600-h/IMG_5128%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_5128" border="0" alt="IMG_5128" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/S0Nq--EyoCI/AAAAAAAAApk/wVhNXNuDeOI/IMG_5128_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="164" /></a></i></p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-17701628567780477652010-01-05T08:25:00.001-08:002010-01-05T08:25:59.820-08:00Chennai<p>It all started by running in heels.</p> <p>I spent my first few days in Chennai horrified by the danger in which adolescent boys and young men put themselves <i>\to catch a bus!</i> They run along-side a moving bus, grab hold of the door frame, and are air borne for several seconds before landing on the bus and scrambling to make way for the fellows behind them about to do the same. Internally, I promised myself never to take such a risk. I valued my life and the possibility of being trampled by traffic was less than enticing..</p> <p>Chennai, day 4: Nicole and I left Spencer's Mall exhausted after a long day at work and exploring the city. <i>Just a little longer</i>, I tell my aching back as we shuffle down the long bus platform. There it is, bus 23C. <i>In 20 yards I can put this bag down</i>. Suddenly, the bus started to leave. </p> <p>NO!! </p> <p>We were going to catch this bus. Nicole immediately understood my determination and ran ahead to the bus’s rear entry. Run run run. Grab. Leap - SUCCESS! A glance to the back of the bus showed that Nicole had also made the jump successfully. OMG, I had actually boarded a moving bus…<i>in heels.</i></p> <p>Since that first welcome, the bus has become my faithful companion, never failing to offer a small adventure or insight into the minor miracles of South Indian life.</p> <p>For example:</p> <p>o <b>The miracle of buying bus tickets:</b> Remember <i>Telephone</i>? Kids play at birthday parties, sitting in a circle and pass around a secret message. The game is successful if the message is the same at the end as it was in the beginning. Indian bus passengers play this game daily.. When the bus is too crowded for the conductor to walk down the aisle and collect fare, which is often, bus patrons pass each others’ bus fare down to the conductor and simultaneously “telephone” the corresponding passenger’s destination. The appropriate ticket and any change is passed back accordingly – sometimes through forty hands, to its owner. No one steals, no one cheats – and no one says thank you. It seems that one’s participation in this act is regarded as a duty, not as a favor, and therefore, since you would and most likely will do the same for the other person at some point this month, thanking them is unnecessary. </p> <p>o <b>The miracle of honesty:</b> This sense of trust and duty also applies to baggage. If all the seats are taken on a bus, you should hand your bag to the nearest seated aunty to hold for you until you get off or get a seat. Otherwise, your bag takes up valuable standing space. You can have a lap top, an ipod, and a hefty chunk of change in your wallet, and you may rest assured that it will all still be there when you take your bag back.</p> <p>o <b><i>Poo </i></b>is the best remedy for a sweaty, smelly bus. South Indian women put "poo" or flowers in their hair. Jasmine is most common, but roses and a yellow flower called manjal kanakambarum (no idea what that is in English – it might be related to marigolds?) are also used. And they smell AWESOME.</p> <p>o <b>Chennai to the rescue: </b>The Tamilian sense of community is especially evident when things go wrong. One day the bus flew over a speed bump, rendering us airborne for several seconds. The - rather large - aunty sitting next to me hurt her chest on the chair back in front of her on the way down. Instantly, my half the bus - about 50-70 people - was involved in either trying to help this woman, screaming at the conductor for the driver's recklessness, or trying to keep the commotion from getting out-of-hand. That would never happen in New York.</p> <p>o <b>Who needs bars? </b>Chennai’s bar scene is minimal, so the bus is the place to meet people! I’ve met quite a few interesting characters on the bus – some of which have actually become friends! My most significant bus friend, a college student studying naval engineering, recently got me hooked on the Twilight movies…I’m still not sure if he’s a positive influence...</p> <p>o <b></b><b>Small small things: </b>One day, a man sat next to me on the bus. (In retrospect, this was strange, since I was sitting on the women’s side.) He turned out to be a student at IIT Madras from Delhi who, unlike most northerners,<i> loved C</i>hennai. "There are small small things to enjoy here! Like women with flowers in their hair, these traditional dresses, families roaming around on the beach…" He's right. Chennai lacks the hip night life that Delhi and Bombay boast, and North Indians that come are often bored by Chennai. But the city has a magic all its own, the most vibrant of which is seen in the smallest things: paper stars hung for Christmas, the chai-wallah that knows and expects me every morning, a free ride from an auto-wallah in the rain, and my eleven-year old neighbor who belts out Michael Jackson tunes a little too early in the morning, and of course, leaping on to a moving bus in heels. :-)</p> <p>Posted by Elyse Ahmad</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-73559213765210026602009-12-21T02:38:00.001-08:002009-12-21T02:38:25.582-08:00Roshan Vikas<p>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<sup>nd</sup> 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.</p> <p>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 <u>do</u> 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.</p> <p>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): </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_GbNBRr7Ps4w/Ss8o4HUph-I/AAAAAAAAA9o/-JI6yiJVjKc/s1600-h/Picture12.png"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="clip_image002" border="0" alt="clip_image002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqQccIlzTiuVtDQySlPHosgHLG-NCc3fVi8KiFtZOxprOEFirJ0E-0hvAcQRioMMd5xyPrggMOJtVTVfMdq9uEwmOY7tofH7c2aJouwgeGzBKMSiSEQrxH7xj1q8V-7Drqzy-rygSkzXFG/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="138" /></a></p> <p>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?).</p> <p>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).   </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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).</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>Wish me luck. </p> <p>Posted by Sanjay Sharma</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-59975378233606031142009-12-14T22:04:00.000-08:002009-12-18T01:58:37.528-08:00Behind the Scenes of "Wow! What's that sound?"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFHsWF1n2SKgveCrIgqYEoHKnDiZ9qn_P_vriVRaPpG4v-oCzELuEsOvu9wQumcqEk3rD37JnAb_YSPGJNBKdrdidzCM_INpJKnqXDrC0pF32SHSPSdPf29jAkTBktPo44TO3kR6M-Q16/s1600-h/DSCN0797_2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 283px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFHsWF1n2SKgveCrIgqYEoHKnDiZ9qn_P_vriVRaPpG4v-oCzELuEsOvu9wQumcqEk3rD37JnAb_YSPGJNBKdrdidzCM_INpJKnqXDrC0pF32SHSPSdPf29jAkTBktPo44TO3kR6M-Q16/s320/DSCN0797_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415865925805107410" border="0" /></a>“<span style="font-style: italic;">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.</span>” --Chandru, 4th standard (translated from Tamil)<br /><br />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 <a href="http://madrasterracehouse.com/">Madras Terrace House</a>.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br />The next day while I was escorting Chandru home, a male colleague from the office accompanied <span style="font-style: italic;">me</span> 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.<br /><br />It’s the feeling of being so at <span style="font-style: italic;">home</span> with your environment and surroundings that seemingly difficult situations become easy to navigate. And yet, it is being far from <span style="font-style: italic;">home </span>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.<br /><br />----<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.<br /><br /><object height="300" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8187922&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8187922&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/8187922"><br /></a></p><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/8187922">Behind the Scenes of "Wow! What's that sound?"</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2803952">Kirsten Anderson</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p><br /><br /><object height="300" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8215706&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=8215706&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="300" width="400"></embed></object><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/8215706">Wow! What's that sound? - A 5 minute teaser</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user2803952">Kirsten Anderson</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p><p><br /></p><p>You can also find Ready to Read's DVD initiative on <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/KirstenAnderson/ready-to-reads-educational-english-dvd-series">kickstarter.com</a>.</p><p>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.<br /><br />----<br /><br />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.<br /><br />This project and getting to know students like Chandru, enable me to call this my <span style="font-style: italic;">home</span>, thousands of miles from the <span style="font-style: italic;">home</span> I grew up knowing.<br /><br />____________________<br />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, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.ready2readprogram.blogspot.com">Ready to Read</a>, as well as working on the production of the pilot episode of the new educational English DVD series. <span style="font-size: 11pt;"></span><br /></p>The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-72654577843298579092009-12-13T20:51:00.001-08:002009-12-13T20:55:43.803-08:00Interaction: Revised<p>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 <a href="http://www.failblog.org">FAILBlog</a>. Still, driving a car into an empty pool is somehow more forgivable than driving a relationship into the ground. </p> <p>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 <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/28/business/global/28return.html?_r=1&emc=eta1">I look Indian and think American</a>, 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. </p> <p><b>Interaction 1: Tiffin Auntie</b></p> <p><i>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. </i></p> <p>Me: Auntie, potatoes don’t agree with me. Stop putting them in everything. Bye. </p> <p>Auntie: [Sadface] Oh. Ok. </p> <p>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.</p> <p><b>Interaction: Revised </b></p> <p>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? </p> <p>Auntie: [Smiling] No problem! </p> <p><b>Lesson: </b>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. </p> <p><b>Interaction 2: Slum Youth</b></p> <p><i>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. </i></p> <p>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. </p> <p>Me: [Silence / Looking awkward.] </p> <p><b>Interaction: Revised</b></p> <p>Youth: Ma’am, now we’ll come to Foreign to visit you! </p> <p>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. <a href="http://www.saathdonation.org/donationsdetails/20">SAATH’s Umeed program</a> trains and places slum youth in corporate jobs.]</p> <p><b>Lesson:</b> 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. <a href="http://www.saathdonation.org/donationsdetails/30">SAATH empowers youth</a> to lead the best lives they can right where they are, which is a sustainable solution. </p> <p><b>Interaction 3: Landlady </b></p> <p><i>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. </i></p> <p>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. </p> <p>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?! </p> <p>Me: [hangs head] </p> <p><b>Interaction: Revised</b></p> <p>Me: Auntie, our flat is infested. </p> <p>Auntie: We can’t do anything about it. Deal with it.</p> <p>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? </p> <p><b>Lesson: </b>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. </p> <p><b>Interaction 4: Sangeet Teacher</b></p> <p><i>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. </i></p> <p>Me: [on phone] Hello, May I please speak to Mihirbhai? </p> <p>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.</p> <p>Me: Uhh…maybe I want to talk to his dad? </p> <p>[I explain that I’m here from America and I want to learn to sing blah blah…]<b></b></p> <p>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. </p> <p><b>Lesson:</b> Know who you’re talking to. Or else risk betrothal. </p> <p>For the overly independent, India is a lesson in interdependence. At <a href="http://www.saath.org">SAATH</a>, 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.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SyXFM9n3FqI/AAAAAAAAAo0/KA_JmjLuXb4/s1600-h/P1040334%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="P1040334" border="0" alt="P1040334" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SyXFNnBZy5I/AAAAAAAAAo4/YxlX2hnECuY/P1040334_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SyXFOqVmcSI/AAAAAAAAAo8/4WQ3TvgjKUQ/s1600-h/P1050215%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="P1050215" border="0" alt="P1050215" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SyXFPuOZKBI/AAAAAAAAApA/YDzEowtuihg/P1050215_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="139" /></a> </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZMR_LY1ni02GE8aIwo8jzjJSPYLujtcZf_KNeF03PqZ0LEBW0rTMmgnmPiJTq6cyEvUFAjsCtmbB9fo-FQPx1wZgS9ESo246Dvdnbj1twNCx594Jy0Y5iGwJb4szr3EAuaqddoEua3yy/s1600-h/P1040848%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="P1040848" border="0" alt="P1040848" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SyXFRmyL0nI/AAAAAAAAApI/-ntXtffxCsk/P1040848_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFJ2hKR2jGh9wdywAfDjRGizvQlSGHKJn_FhYZMPHUoVvffp8gtppIjryhUKZnpN_zKMPtlouFvbW2d2PjG2CSbZWbDVX24iXmaqigz6PvVwAtnfAb4nwFG2sZf_FmpGnVtNiO3jPJHs82/s1600-h/P1040855%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="P1040855" border="0" alt="P1040855" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SyXFTZJJTAI/AAAAAAAAApQ/sWsbdkSKtz8/P1040855_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> </p> <p>_______________________________ </p> <p>Meghna Shah is at <a href="http://www.saath.org">SAATH</a>, 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. </p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-54451160568925583122009-12-10T21:41:00.001-08:002009-12-10T21:41:45.236-08:00The Top Down (Approach)<p>I remember reading the vault guide and always wondering when in real life I would ever use the “top down” vs. “bottom up” approach.</p> <p>And today, as I sat in Ahmedabad, Gujarat inside my friend's Wagoner, it happened.</p> <p>The answer to the “bottom” is the top down approach. In my mind, there are two very hot topics in the development space:</p> <p>1. Climate Change</p> <p>2. Bottom of the Pyramid</p> <p>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!</p> <p>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.</p> <p>Who are the influencers?</p> <ol> <li>Heroes – ex. Doctors (Okay not just any doctors, but doctors that live in small villages, they are huge influences in small communities) </li> <li>Builders (builders higher contractors, laborers, and day workers, who all use tools, equipment, and supplies that are consumed by the top of the pyramid) </li> <li>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) </li> <li>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) </li> </ol> <p>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?</p> <p>Let’s look at a typical buying pattern for any consumer when looking at solar lanterns as an example:</p> <ol> <li>Is the quality better? (perhaps, but not on cloudy days) </li> <li>It is cheaper? (initially no, but in the long run yes) </li> <li>Do most people use it ? (no, people generally have electricity lines running directly to their house) </li> <li>Is it better for the environment ? (yes, but remember initially it is more expensive) </li> </ol> <p>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?</p> <p>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.</p> <p><img style="display: inline; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px" border="0" alt="" align="left" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEW8T17TURU-bK9f8l1PD63iOj7t1PspmJ2H77Zeg8smoVAT4Y0o3S-NWawBbpSgqJrntXo4Q5L9BbQxUvcgtflJqbXX_gHDoASn8Km_H1ajBeIypRRawCJL2-4OyWIjEEGO-N2yvrY9R8/s400/Slide1.jpg" /></p> <p>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.</p> <p>Posted by Bijal Shah</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-56080150820890146662009-12-10T05:24:00.000-08:002009-12-10T05:24:00.145-08:00Dream Connect – Part 1<p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p>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.</p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx0CiUwYz_I/AAAAAAAAAns/U39rtOJW-30/s1600-h/DreamConnectPilotClass%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="DreamConnectPilotClass" border="0" alt="DreamConnectPilotClass" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhftOp986cCaQPTXYGTCrX0nz9KhZEIRRriKyIIA0JHHoBI4ccEPsgLjAEFO3NNE7knHaorVn9bpHVrmRehB3NarQC9QoejDdXLzq9wf684SgOW2fJ4eEzJRER9kG-5ax_mkRYbYtkuR09u/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="139" /></a> </p> <p>Posted by Nandan Satyanarayan</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-58282357357325433162009-12-07T09:13:00.001-08:002009-12-08T02:20:31.073-08:00Maher<p>“Hamare gar mai Papa ne Mummi ko bhot mara” <br /><i>“In our house, Father hit Mother a lot”</i></p> <p>“Is liye Aap ithar hai, naa?” <br /><i>“That’s why you’re here, right?”</i></p> <p>“Ha(n)!” <br /><i>“Yes!”</i></p> <p>“Lehkin Mummi kidar hai?” <br /><i>“But where’s Mummi?”</i></p> <p>“Woh to gar gahi!” <br /><i>“She went home!”</i></p> <p>***</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>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?</p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>Unfortunately, it seems that most local Puneites rarely volunteer relative to foreigners, which is an incredible shame. </p> <p>***</p> <p>“Woh to gar gahi!” <br /><i>“She went home!”</i></p> <p>“Woh gar gahi? Kyu?” <br /><i>“She went home? Why?”</i></p> <p><i>… <br />No response.</i></p> <p>“Koi bhaat nahi. Aap ko ithir mazaa aara hai, naa?” <br /><i>No worries. You’re having fun here, right?”</i></p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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.</p> <p>***</p> <p>“Koi bhaat nahi. Aap ko ithir mazaa aara hai, naa?” <br /><i>No worries. You’re having fun here, right?”</i></p> <p>… <br /><i>No response.</i></p> <p>“Nahi?” <br /><i>“No?”</i></p> <p>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.</p> <p>Not for me, though. My mind is reeling. <table border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0"><tbody> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeDtsAnP-W4oeNDF2ZqWJaPg1v0u0Ryssjg7X-dSgJIpkK4T5dzW8b5s9PlWfJDIvmiuGDkuMLh-ZMwoV2-TKtmeiv_K-Yr0RUyuwUP1MLOfyRITn7ZGtn5HF2pX4wXgLYJuFLkd9TP3v/s1600-h/clip_image0023.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image002" border="0" alt="clip_image002" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_sHF16xn7MxFswrEE03ATZksAB7avINvD5m301qg_PfWshPpCIPmhPjZ6ftIAwv8tdWEaRnmHWLybgAUL8wvu1HVmamKXxtBr0zWeHpEQsArjRHYyiairi6b5ABR8t7KujsqTLvKl5ak/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03fgRiSMI/AAAAAAAAAn8/N4vvm-wxAxQ/s1600-h/clip_image0043.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image004" border="0" alt="clip_image004" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03hMIyb2I/AAAAAAAAAoA/JuuAC0_AaNU/clip_image004_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> </tr> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> </td> </tr> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03iSFecYI/AAAAAAAAAoE/ttZwfysHZ6E/s1600-h/clip_image0063.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image006" border="0" alt="clip_image006" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03jurlpzI/AAAAAAAAAoI/ohSR4CyKQHM/clip_image006_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03k9FRe2I/AAAAAAAAAoM/5YZMsMXvQqM/s1600-h/clip_image0083.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image008" border="0" alt="clip_image008" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03mNZkRkI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/ALRbeH4XuFw/clip_image008_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> </tr> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> </td> </tr> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-uESytjF9RaXpBqG6HBmXmiPW0B1dbdmOSAZ8tU3JRvuXamad5vOBaK0LW15ytEdKHX7YHnI487WJLT8ptyts7NWpKgwva88bcIGyrjNZrHJQ-yIl3ZJhK1sKZnGllmksdZGzydSZZPhO/s1600-h/clip_image0103.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image010" border="0" alt="clip_image010" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0IkK3lCmIy7ycFeqTavL8qe2_H5Zvi78oMZR5IwCNryhgEd7nYqMLRq8RqP725zZ639EU0gnrpIA6l8Q0BHHizSeb0-x8No7bS3UTR_lznqdBEe1zHsGv6tZY72D8JGLt7PdCwK0q2H_8/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmbGC7JEQgil6OcsPacBFf6BPQaF05yNH65_3kZmAgybfDgAy0n4HRwallHQjt7RIVxp5Q2Y-FksjpD4ssc4B_knAITd1C_OHWFpTqSSM-c4i85b4RFZvW8s9iRG1s4DcxwCrDWcjOpq-s/s1600-h/clip_image0123.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image012" border="0" alt="clip_image012" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLGw8Vzu9jwJYipagycCogFSpe8lxgx9TFzETDZQT5jM6Ud2oEhIaaUHmcP_TZ-20ohm9UbEcD5kVo8auqdPM96LSDBx35WPE1naQxVwc48c04qPcXzSccpmqdDlKQuMclZTVm6kiitb-h/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> </tr> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> </td> </tr> <tr> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03tS3gczI/AAAAAAAAAok/8CoQ2y9BSvw/s1600-h/clip_image0143.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image014" border="0" alt="clip_image014" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03vDo_cVI/AAAAAAAAAoo/ObKYItq3IAY/clip_image014_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a></p> </td> <td valign="top" width="336"> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03wwv8JOI/AAAAAAAAAos/IwXiNjXxP70/s1600-h/clip_image0163.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="clip_image016" border="0" alt="clip_image016" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/Sx03yTUjAzI/AAAAAAAAAow/5sGdNhsxvnQ/clip_image016_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> </td> </tr> </tbody></table> </p> <p>Posted by Samir Panjwani</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-58272841646693375192009-12-03T07:16:00.000-08:002009-12-04T07:49:41.026-08:00Encouraging Micro Entrepreneurship in Rural Bengal<p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p>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. </p> <p><b>The Current State of My Five Senses</b></p> <p><b>Seeing:</b> 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. </p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SxkvVkBRAGI/AAAAAAAAAnE/HLMHzt9CBQU/s1600-h/clip_image002%5B1%5D%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="clip_image002[1]" border="0" alt="clip_image002[1]" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SxkvXPoSJjI/AAAAAAAAAnI/oeltL1Gxgqc/clip_image002%5B1%5D_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p><b>Hearing</b>: 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. </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfHJ1qpmmocySBD5_qGNj9_-32mewAITNNgpE2N1uhXQerY_vLGuQz-sRmt53ucWj6J26QLwUb29fEmCKZzarvvE05ieVPJB7IWeIGocp8iMKfMNlE01HVMPIZNToskD-U1jvVvK1osag/s1600-h/clip_image004%5B1%5D%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="clip_image004[1]" border="0" alt="clip_image004[1]" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SxkvZeuBvsI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/VxCkZm2Mmb0/clip_image004%5B1%5D_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="182" /></a></p> <p><b>Smelling:</b> 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. </p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnYfdOqXYH8oIdbDg8P7jybGkdhd2js-268yUoM_h8W4BIDOoYtL2AylwItQCWAkMcidKXZGFkL6cxEjhLJMTzqvqL3RWTJvfc6ue-rg0NyToHHSXhyphenhyphenjBnQnkVcLPx3nQYwTK2ws67lu4c/s1600-h/clip_image006%5B1%5D%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="clip_image006[1]" border="0" alt="clip_image006[1]" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SxkvdaxkSYI/AAAAAAAAAnY/5W_v8EcywTw/clip_image006%5B1%5D_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="186" /></a></p> <p><b>Tasting:</b> 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.</p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SxkvfVYzFoI/AAAAAAAAAnc/pq1ULmkdwng/s1600-h/clip_image008%5B1%5D%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="clip_image008[1]" border="0" alt="clip_image008[1]" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2A5vPciVL_n0sfBF5a0xHRKnayNmtxRhRC9cU0kdrpP_P6nQyK-WLmoAOaUBDcKwf7YVnjS2QcNFO9EU9-jfrmZzWjPm5gcZ9EGbARUSIF5tNDshAdgSLkhtrwakHIj23Df-Og2z16oKT/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p><b>Touching:</b> 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.</p> <p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLL2-CggWERf4Xuo3pqNjAWJQS4vJuNF-QubB8uX9YDHyP4_2UvQaCdfX_WBbSIDR9phg724KuLd5TRZ2JcHdvHplxYGeodwNk-1wxppK2oVeLaOZxXDVqCI2mA_DOW5XWbONvtKoi3CzH/s1600-h/clip_image010%5B1%5D%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="clip_image010[1]" border="0" alt="clip_image010[1]" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SxkvkdRLQdI/AAAAAAAAAno/O31Sk0Pi_m0/clip_image010%5B1%5D_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a></p> <p></p> <p></p> Posted by Jessica Sawhney The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-68099991109869304552009-11-30T01:15:00.001-08:002009-11-30T01:15:07.877-08:00Hitler’s not such a bad guy after all<p>After work the other week, I had a craving for chai (which, admittedly, is less of a craving now and more of a necessity to function) and stopped at my favorite provision store/tea stand to grab a cup. Ramesh, the store owner, and I exchanged pleasantries in broken Tamil for a bit before I turned toward the street to watch the late afternoon crowd. I absolutely love the tradition and the strange absence of it that is combined in a cup of tea. The crowd outside each tea stall encompasses both genders, all ages, and most middle-class professions, without outlining any rules for interaction between the diverse tea-takers. Some people will talk for an hour, some people will stand quietly, some will gulp their tea and rush on; there are no customs or expectations in any case, so long as you hand over four rupees with your empty glass tumbler. Even though my blonde head clearly stands out, I actually feel strangely comfortable swirling the coarse grains of sugar while quietly taking in the conversations and traffic around me.</p> <p>My usual musing was disrupted by a coarse smoker’s gargle, that curious medium of phlegm and sandpaper-raw vocal chords.</p> <p>“Hey, where you from?”</p> <p>I turned and was greeted by the beaming smile of a portly middle-aged man wearing the ubiquitous brown uniform of an auto driver. I smiled and answered, preparing myself for the inevitable five-minute conversation about my work and the fact that, yes, I do eat and love spicy South Indian food. Happy for the excuse to practice my Tamil, I asked “<i>Unga paera enna</i>?” (what is your name, formal)?</p> <p>“Hitler!” he rasped happily. <i>I mean, I’ve met a few people here with some oddball Western names, but….seriously??</i></p> <p>My face must have quickly shown how many mental cartwheels my mind was going through to process why on earth this jolly Tamilian man was so inappropriately named. He laughed and said, “English people are not liking my name, because of German Hitler long time ago. But people here are not knowing, so Hitler is okay in India.”</p> <p>Hitler then proceeded to tell me about his life, his passion for working with kids (he apparently worked as an occasional driver at a nearby school for handicapped children), his handicapped wife, and his friend Steven, a Brit who volunteered at the school for some time. He punctuated all of his stories with blurry cell phone images of smiling kids in school uniforms, stilted formal wallet photos, and several snaps of Hilter and a laughing, skinny white guy. “Steven was like you,” he said, “always asking Tamil words. Everyone thought it not possible for white man to be friends with black Indian, but all wrong. Steven and Hitler are good friends, life friends. All life friendship, all life beautiful, yes?”</p> <p>He beamed again, and I couldn’t help returning an equally wide smile. Planting our rupees down alongside our empty cups, Hitler made me take his number as we made motions to part. “When you not busy, you come see my school. See the children. Wonderful children, Steven’s children, you come see in free time!”</p> <p>I said that I would, shook hands tightly, and began to walk down the street as Hitler called after me. “All life good life. Happy days!”</p> <p>“Happy days!” I shouted back.</p> <p>*******</p> <p>A week went by as they quickly do here, my increasingly precious “free time” filled with work projects, dance classes, Tamil lessons, and Indian meals shared with friends and neighbors. I didn’t (couldn’t) forget Hitler, but stored his memory away with the many other beautiful, short exchanges that I have with so many amiable Chennians on a daily basis.</p> <p>Rushing to the bus stand one morning, I was incredulous when I heard a happy yell in that unmistakable rasp:</p> <p>“NIKOL! <i>Vannakam</i>! Hello, my friend!”</p> <p>Cutting in front of several buses, a vending cart, and at least two cows, Hitler’s shared autorickshaw pulled up to the curb beside me. Both equally excited to have met again, we chatted constantly while the villages between my house and work passed by in a blur. Hitler turned back towards me frequently, somehow deftly dodging people, bikes, and animals at top speed (fast even by normal ly crazy rickshaw standards) while enthusiastically sharing his life story and philosophy. His happiness was infectious, and every schoolgirl and businessman that climbed into the auto on the journey was smiling when they dismounted. When we reached Injambakkam, the small community where I work, we of course went back to our favorite tea stall for another saccharine cup and equally enjoyable conversation.</p> <p>When again it was time to part, Hitler repeated his invocation to meet his family and see his school. This time, I promised, and shook his hand with all I had to show that I meant it. He grinned and gripped back eagerly.</p> <p>“I think God think very well of Hitler today, to see my friend again. I very thankful for good luck and wonderful life. All good life always! Stay always happy!”</p> <p>“Happy days!” I replied as I waved, and ruminated on the phrase as I continued my walk to work. I have a lot of them here.</p> <p>Posted by Nicole Fox</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-27860795666754992872009-11-06T08:42:00.001-08:002009-11-06T08:42:11.428-08:00You Look Like a Movie Star.....an Ugly Movie Star<p>Every day I take a 30 minute rickshaw to work - usually these rides are uneventful, marked by abrasive rickshaw drivers with poor hearing.  Today, however, was the exception.  I started chatting with my driver and got his whole life story.  How old he is, where he's from, how many kids he has, etc.  We made I deal that I would only <br />speak in Hindi to practice, and he would do the same with English. Over the course of the ride, we kind of bonded.  I found out he's got a post-grad degree in economics and was a former professor in UP.  He moved to Bombay and became a rickshaw driver because of money troubles.  His brother was part of the anti-terror taskforce that acted during the Bombay terror attacks last year.   He is also a supporter of the BJP.</p> <p>Anyway, as we were chatting, I asked him who his favorite actor was. He said Akshay Kumar - he loves him because he's a good looking man.</p> <p>I asked him what he thought of Abhishek Bachchan.  His replied, "I don't like Abhishek Bachchan.  He is not a good looking man.  Ugly man.  He has a black face.   You look just like Abhishek Bachchan."</p> <p>The conversation continued after this, but needless to say, it did not have the same warmth as before.</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-2692738963913307262009-11-05T00:04:00.001-08:002009-11-05T00:04:19.220-08:00Kovalam Narratives: Voices of Illness and Recovery<p>Morning begins with a 1.5 hour journey via two buses from the Brahmin heart of Madras to the small fishing village of Kovalam. You know you are nearing when you forget the trickle of sweat down your back and the college boys sandwiched against you who blast syrupy Tamil songs from mobile phones at 8 a.m. You only see blue, blue sea and sky, the ebony of water buffalo against ochre beach. You feel the salty sea breeze dry your face.</p> <p>And you know you have reached when all you can see are ivory minarets and the cupcake-shaped tower of the dargah<a href="#_edn1" name="_ednref1">[i]</a> rising above miles of fluttering green flags bearing the Islamic white crescent and star. The mothers and grandmothers, dressed head to toe in black hijab or in sequin-studded saris, descend down the bus stairs with children in tow or tucked in their arms. They float between the flower and food vendors towards the feather-shaped door of the dargah.</p> <p>Here is the heart of Kovalam. The scene of sea, sky, and dargah fills me every day, and then I turn right and walk down the wide dirt road to The Banyan Holistic Health Centre, a community mental health awareness and treatment program<a href="#_edn2" name="_ednref2">[ii]</a>.</p> <p>But this is just place.</p> <p>***</p> <p>Manu rests on his bed of wooden plank and weakly raises his arm, twisted and quivering from a stroke of four years past. A community worker from The Banyan and I sit on the floor of his home—a room half the size of my kitchen—and listen to Manu’s wife, Lakshmi, explain why she did not bring him to the Health Centre’s psychiatric out-patient clinic for the last month.</p> <p>Because he has lost the ability of his hand, Manu is unemployed and Lakshmi has toiled to support their family. She spends her days making and selling pine oil and soaps, cooking, and caring for Manu. Their daughter aspires to be a computer scientist and studies for exams in the evenings. She does not help. Lakshmi says she needs to work constantly to pay her daughter’s private school fees, give the monthly rent, feed the family, and pay for Manu’s various medicines. She has no time to bring him to the Banyan.</p> <p>The community worker asks her what medicines she has paid for, as Manu came to the Banyan months before and received free medication. A quack told the family he could cure Manu with an injection that would cost 15,000 rupees. The family paid. Lakshmi shows us a case of large, white pills and smaller, yellow ones. She has mixed the remaining Banyan-prescribed medication with those given by the quack, and cannot remember when she began to do this. With tears in her eyes, she says that Manu has not improved during the last four years.</p> <p>In soft, rounded Tamil, the community worker urges Lakshmi to take a few hours off the next Tuesday and visit the psychiatric outpatient clinic. We get up to leave. Manu mutters that he is better and gripping the wall, shakily hoists himself up and walks, step by step to his house’s entrance. His warm eyes follow us as we walk down the path, carrying a shadow of his story.</p> <p>These same eyes first meet mine, and then the psychiatrist’s, at the next outpatient clinic. During the clinical interview, the psychiatrist unearths more of Manu’s story. Following his stroke, Manu lost the ability to hold anything with his right hand. He could no longer hold the threshing tools and scythe that he used to plant and harvest rice. But his youngest daughter devoted herself to his care. She would bathe, clothe, and feed him. Two years ago, this daughter passed away due to an illness. The psychiatrist rests his pen and looks tired. “I can give him medicine to alleviate the pain in his hand and to stop his talking to the voices he hears. But that only goes so far.” A physical therapist is needed to train Manu to use his hand. An occupational therapist could perhaps design an agricultural tool for Manu to use, or perhaps give him training in another vocation.</p> <p>The community worker suggests that Lakshmi come to the Banyan and train other long-term patients and women in the Kovalam community in the preparation of pine-oils and soaps, as another source of income. She also informs them of the Tamil Nadu Disability Allowance, a government-provided monthly stipend given to patients with mental illness and other disabilities.</p> <p>Manu’s eyes tug at a place in me that I did not know existed.</p> <p>And he is just one voice. </p> <p>***</p> <p>At the end of the AIF Service Corps orientation in Delhi, I wondered if mental health was worth devoting oneself to when poverty, lack of education, and the pressures of marriage and dowry still exist—all potential causes of mental illness that I have witnessed during the last two months. Why work to alleviate a symptom of these problems?</p> <p>Manu is more than a patient, a voice. His mental and physical breakdown have grown out of a mesh of economic, social, and biological problems. Medicines will treat mental illness, but will not heal a broken mind. But what the Banyan is doing and still dreaming of—reaching into the realms of education, vocation, family, and religious structure to promote mental health—is what may ultimately heal and prevent the unraveling of the mind.</p> <p>*Names have been changed to preserve anonymity.</p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SvKG6d3Q-gI/AAAAAAAAAmE/N4Fn-rjEtw0/s1600-h/IMG_0461%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0461" border="0" alt="IMG_0461" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1RcwkkUeMoz6AJcDLPkRFkr02KG0TaxzjrFHQ2D8w8DTx9cvLE2hdhhSdnhRZH7ao5GqIEpKtieREl5219YKgreM-OxADgi_7_xJOM30X5unxOOvlRUxkJRbj3nTkOphINm_vBJ-3Gs2f/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> <a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SvKG87bJ8hI/AAAAAAAAAmM/SxwrUShGdtw/s1600-h/IMG_0862%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0862" border="0" alt="IMG_0862" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh95J-NongsruDa2VhrZZON6jSOgfrdwRRHjlnf1hulcfG_EWYlws1xLrHmJE1QGx8SyGzgKJCfFDpJUyPS_36zXXI4i3LEU_1tjgrnRqrlLp_AsL-FaoZlF0B62yc_dqhHxE2im53iqTwn/?imgmax=800" width="244" height="184" /></a> <a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SvKG_fG4XTI/AAAAAAAAAmU/wyg_9e512NA/s1600-h/IMG_0866%5B2%5D.jpg"><img style="border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px" title="IMG_0866" border="0" alt="IMG_0866" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_NIaitdRGDpI/SvKHAe4Hg9I/AAAAAAAAAmY/i0gDzbsNR98/IMG_0866_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="184" height="244" /></a> </p> <p>Posted by Aditi Ramakrishnan</p> <hr align="left" size="1" width="33%" /> <p><a href="#_ednref1" name="_edn1">[i]</a> Dargah: a Sufi shrine built over the remains of a Sufi saint. While it is often confused with a mosque, some would argue that a dargah is quite un-Islamic. Muslims, Hindus, and Christians flock to dargahs to pray to the saint himself or to seek a path to God through his blessing. Strict Muslims may not go to dargahs for this very reason of praying to a being other than Allah. In Tamil Nadu, many with mental illness go to the dargah for faith-healing and spiritual treatment.</p> <p><a href="#_ednref2" name="_edn2">[ii]</a> The Banyan: a Chennai-based NGO and mental health rehabilitation center primarily for homeless women with mental illness. The Banyan now consists of Adaikalam, a large rehabilitation center in Chennai, BALM (a research unit on mental health), and The Holistic Health Center and Community Mental Health Programme in Kovalam, Tamil Nadu. The Kovalam facilities include a general and psychiatric outpatient clinic, an inpatient unit, and a community for long-term rehabilitation for women with acute mental illness. As a Yale and AIF fellow, I am documenting the Banyan’s community mental health model in Kovalam and writing about perceptions and treatment of mental illness in Tamil Nadu.</p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2323352987483809608.post-78954022305628970792009-10-28T20:59:00.001-07:002009-11-03T00:09:37.016-08:00Wealth from Waste & Rags to Riches.<p>Such are the catchy titles used to introduce social-upliftment based waste management projects in India. Recycling, composting and "going-green" are hot words that generate much social and financial capital for the various NGO's, companies, and corporations trying to get a slice of the waste-management pie. Here's a basic look at the situation in India.</p> <p>Of course, everyone attempting waste-management here has their own theory of what is best for the environment, best for the waste-workers, and best for the city. It seems to be a trend that some of the larger NGO's waste –management programs’ are positioned more towards making adjustments in the lives of the rag-pickers, rather than working with the rag-pickers to capitalize on the available opportunities to increase their livelihoods. Building self-respect is more of a focus than building capacity. However, I believe, it is only through capacity building that waste-pickers will be empowered and will be able to develop their self-respect.</p> <p>Helping a waste-picker establish a formal identity (voter ID card, ration card, etc.) is certainly a step in the right direction, but not one that provides a waste-picker with the right tools to increasing his/ her meager income. To talk of identity and self-image is of little use, if that individual continues to live in the same abject poverty from the day before, but today with a piece of paper with their name on it. </p> <p>Certain NGO's seem to focus entirely on the waste-workers identity, his/her dealings with the municipal corporation, and to create a pseudo-cooperative of these waste-pickers. They shun the idea of raising capital to help the waste-pickers mechanize some of their activities or to make efficient their sorting and processing of recyclables appears to be a second priority to the focus on the workers identity. Mechanization is opposed as it is seen as an off-shoot of capitalization, which they deem exploitative and inherently against sustainability. Then how do they propose to make a dent (environmentally) in the tremendous problem of waste-management, if they lack the resources to collect, sort, process and dispose hundreds of metric tonnes of waste per day? They don't, and they cannot. Such activities are beyond their scope, since physical labour is no longer adequate to tackle waste production in any Indian city. This raises an important question: are they making a difference in the waste management sector, or making a difference in terms of human rights and counseling?</p> <p>On the flip side of these operations are India's major waste management companies. They have multi-billion rupee contracts in various Indian cities, with heavy mechanization and tremendous capital investments. They can afford to pay their base employees salaries almost double the minimum wage.  Their operations are efficient, environmentally significant, and economically positive for all concerned. However, they displace and destroy the livelihoods of the destitute that are engaged in waste-picking in the areas where they operate. </p> <p>So neither of these two major models target the waste-pickers in terms of increasing the amount of money they get to take home. 93% of India's employed population is employed in the informal <a href="http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/business/india-business/Informal-jobs-account-for-93-of-Indias-workforce-ILO-/articleshow/5116107.cms)">sector</a>. Of that, waste-picking and scavenging is the meanest job with almost no skill sets required. </p> <p>I've been placed with Nidan, in Patna, Bihar. In 2002, Nidan started a cooperative of waste-pickers. It aimed to bring together the people engaged in this work and attempt to uplift their status in society (helping them get a formal identity), get access to micro-finance, social security, insurance, and most importantly- a higher income from the work they did. Over time, it realized that the only way to increase the average waste-pickers income was to allow the waste-pickers to bid for municipal waste management contracts. The only way to do this was to have these waste-pickers (called <i>safai mitras- </i>friends of cleanliness) create their own company. Nidan Swachhdhara Private Limited was created in August 2008 to tackle the problem of waste management in Patna, while uplifting the poor that clean it. </p> <p>I'm focusing on scaling up and making efficient Nidan's composting operations. Almost 50% of Patna's waste is decomposable organic matter. 12.5% is recyclable. To be able to remove this 62% from ending up in Patna's dumps is the goal. But like all environmental goals in India, it is littered with obstacles: a lack of land, logistical problems in transporting waste, and the greatest problem, a huge lack of public awareness of the acute need to segregate waste at source. India, like the rest of the world has not yet realized the tremendous impact it has on the environment, and the terrible repercussions we shall face in the near future.</p> <p>Posted by Behzad Larry </p> The W.J. Clinton Fellowship for Service in Indiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17517784803071574484noreply@blogger.com0