Saturday, December 31, 2016

Day 3 - Anuradha, India's superwoman and AVANI in Kolhapur

Anuradha Bhopale leads us through one of the migrant camps in Kolhapur



AVANI
http://www.gophilanthropic.org/avani-and-women--child-rights-campaign--india.html

As I type this Day 3 posting, Mat is downstairs interviewing what can only be described as India's superwoman. Her name is Anuradha and our group had the pleasure of spending the day with her visiting two migrant worker camps and a children's residential facility. This is just one small part of her life's mission-- but I am getting ahead of myself here.

Last night our bus adventure ended with our arrival in Kolhapur around 10pm. Kolhapur is south of Mumbai. After our bus ride, which Mat has now colorfully described sitting in the back of the bus as "going to sleep inside a punching bag." We slept hard after that. By the way, Mat says I'm not allowed to "steal" anymore of his lines, but I tell him I'm just documenting them -- and I'm citing him as the originator. 
The migrant brick worker's shelters made from broken bricks

We began today by visiting a brick making camp just a few miles away from our hotel. As we stepped off of the tour bus, our group was met by the children of this migrant camp. The girls and boys ranged from just about four years old to middle school age. Most had recently been granted uniforms through a donation to the school--clothing so new that one could still see the folded creases in them. 


These twenty-two little pairs of bare feet stood at attention in lines and greeted us with a song.  Our host mentioned that it would be nice if we sang something for them too. With no hesitation, all twenty of us sang “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” Anuradha briefed our group regarding the conditions in the many brickyards scattered across India and how she has facilitated working with many of the brickyard owners to set up educational facilities for the children while the parents are working.  Would you believe that many of the owners were there today to greet her when she was once, just a couple of years ago, being threatened by them? 

Anuradha works tirelessly to enforce child labor laws here in India. She organizes these onsite migrant schools, of course, but also enforces the law with non-violent protests.  For instance, she brought 1,200 children by truck into the Indian labor office and conducted school right there at the government building. This act was organized to make her point to the Indian government; they need to enforce the labor laws, which had been ignored for so long.  

Shortly after touring the school (which was simply a converted truck topper with a tarp and a mat for the floor) we walked through the makeshift living spaces of the migrant workers. Some of the workers, the lucky ones, utilize broken brick pieces to craft a 4-foot by 4-foot hut adjacent to where they mold the bricks. I was invited by one of the mothers to crouch down and peek into her dwelling.  There is no electricity and just a dirt floor. She tended a small fire for cooking just outside. Inside there was really nothing more than a laundry basket and something to heat water.  Anuradha later explained that these workers make bricks for others to build, but will never have the luxury of having a house of their own. Though they are perhaps resigned to this in life, there is nothing but warmth from them. Many of them wanted to take our picture and the smallest of children would blow kisses to you--which we did so many times before we needed to move on to the sugar migrant camp.
A migrant sugarcane worker and his prized cow

It was not too far from the brickyard that we met the next migrant site. Again, the children, much like the last group, met us with song; this time they sang "Row Row Row Your Boat" and we chose to respond in the same, but sang to them in a round.  I think the children may have mistaken our "round" for not knowing how to sing as one unit. This camp was quite different. Instead of broken bricks, this camp uses the dried sugar stalks almost like teepees for shelter.  Cows are everywhere; their horns are brightly painted to identify to whom they belong (these are not friendly animals).  As Mat filmed this group, there was one man who was particularly proud of his cow. In fact, he insisted that Mat stop filming and simply take his photograph. He stood next to his animal with his hard, chiseled face in a stoic way. That strange and fascinating moment was just one of many that clearly stood out to Mat.

There were other stops along the way. We toured the construction site for a new residential facility that was designed and built by a Texan engineer that now lives in Kolhapur and lends his talents to Anuradha and the AVANI organization. His story is interesting and heartfelt and unforgettable, but I'll save it for another time. We toured the sugar mill and went through the motions of a traditional tea service with the sugar owners who use their business for political power in the area. But most of our time was spent at the residential facility that AVANI supports for migrant children. These little people had to be removed from poor conditions which could include family or abuse or other considerations. 

As we arrived, each of us were anointed and blessed.  Children called for each of us by name and personally walked hand in hand with us down to a vibrantly colorful tent where we were treated to a program full of singing and dancing. There were awards presented to those who tirelessly worked for the organization, and since Arun Gandhi and his son were present, they were the obvious special guests of this affair.  Actually our tour group was recognized here too -- each of us was given a handkerchief with our full names hand-stitched into them, as well as a bright travel pouch with pockets made onsite by some of the older girls. 
Our pint-sized tour guide of the AVANI residential home

After the program, one of the younger girls asked my name and took me for a tour of where she lives.  Twenty girls share a room, and separately twenty boys share a space nearby.  Anuradha explained that the boys are brothers or cousins of the rescued girls at this residential home. She is adamant that AVANI's main focus is on facilitating education and providing safety for women first and foremost. Soon I was sitting with my pint-sized tour guide along with about eight other girls. They played with my watch and my long blonde hair. I showed pictures of our children and our dog. I discovered that they like to dance, so we all stood up and from my phone I played music and showed them some simple and fun movements that would make sense to them. We danced and searched for songs that we all knew. When my playlist became too limited, one of the older girls played some upbeat Bollywood tunes and we jumped around laughing and copying each other's creative interpretation. And so dehydrated and spent, we departed AVANI for our hotel. 

The day closed with a short lecture by Mr. Gandhi where he imparted his concepts for nonviolent living and then, as it is now New Year's Eve, we celebrated with an early buffet dinner as a group. There are fireworks exploding all over Kolhapur now; however Mat and I retired to our room hours ago to recharge our batteries --(our energy as well as his camera batteries). Our hotel room is conveniently above the dance club so we are being rhythically vibrated to sleep by the heavy beats and sounds of celebration.   


I'm not sure if either one of us could pick our highlight of today's events. Mat spent over an hour interviewing a very passionate and sometimes tearful Anuradha, and it was quite obvious she took quite a liking to him. She sat with us at dinner and asked him directly what had shocked him, what he thought of today. Perhaps that connection with her is his highlight. Or maybe it was how the children's interest in using his headphones and taking pictures with his camera forced him to stop filming and do what he says was more important -- interacting with these inquisitive, energetic orphans. I might say mine was dancing with the girls. Dancing has a shared language all of its own. Or it might be having the opportunity to have a meal with Anuradha this evening and share with her my ideas about changing the focus of our educational goals in America. Regardless, today was a gift and it is truly a happy new year. My heart is full.


Friday, December 30, 2016

Day 2 - Mumbai and the Bus

Women's India Trust (WIT) - Mumbai
Yesterday we spent in the splendor of rest -- adjusting our internal clocks -- resting up for this pilgrimage of India.

So for our "official" Day 2 we travel by bus -- Mat and I laid claim to the back row as he can then shift from one side of the bus to the other efficiently to film as our guides show us landmarks along the way. The back of the bus is both a blessing (for the space and accessibility) and a curse (as it has proven to be the bumpiest part of this transport).

 

Mani Bhavan

http://www.gandhi-manibhavan.org
After we journeyed south for an hour, our first stop was Mani Bhavan - the site where Gandhi led many of his political movements in India. A guide led us though where Gandhi lived while visiting Mumbai, which was also the place that Martin Luther King Jr. insisted on staying while he was in India.

While visiting Mani Bhavan, I discovered that as I had lifted out of my bus seat, the back of the kurta I'm wearing (a long Indian dress shirt) had torn. So I walked through the museum with a gaping flap (which everyone noticed except my own husband). 

Women’s India Trust

http://www.wit.org.in
Between tour stops, I found my sewing kit and worked on the flap in my wardrobe as we traversed the streets of Mumbai to visit to the Women's India Trust. When we reached the first of many social projects we're visiting on this tour, I had already sewn the gaping kurta hole completely shut, however primitive my stitches may look. Perhaps I didn't want my handiwork to look too skillful or they might've felt compelled to put me to work there. :) This cooperative offers training and employment for women who cannot work traditional hours or who do not have any education or skills.  We were greeted by the teacher trainees that led us through various child development projects -- from creating hand painted journals to origami and puppetry.  All of these teaching tools were made with reclaimed materials and we all marveled at their ingenuity with plastic bottles, egg shells, newspapers and such. Teacher trainees are educated for a year at the WIT but this facility provides many types of training and even offers a resident 2 year nursing program.  We were treated to quite a tasty vegetarian meal provided by the organization as part of our visit.. As we left, just as we leave everywhere, we are advised to use the facilities-- today especially as we head south now to Kolhapur. This city is over the mountains we could see in the distance, through Pune and a good eight hour drive. 




The chaos of traffic in the city
The streets are full of motorcycles, scooters, people, stray dogs, and moving waves of traffic-- both people and vehicles of every size and shape imaginable. Some of these transports are quite colorful and loaded from one end to the other with the people of India. Rides are commonly shared on scooters; others hang out the sides of the city metro train-- there are so many creative ways of traveling in and out of the city. Sometimes the whole family rides on one scooter --mother, father, and two small children sandwiched between them riding into the sunset. 

It's now dusk, and everything out the window seems like a strange hallucination of a Dali-esque world with a post-apocalyptic backdrop.  As we attempt to drift off to sleep, the bus lurches forward and sudden stops are not unusual.  The feeling is best summed up by my back of the bus seatmate/husband who exclaimed, "the cuteness of being flung around like a rubber chicken has worn off." Sweet dreams and hold on tight.


Wednesday, December 28, 2016

Day 1- Mumbai - Waterstones Hotel


Don't drink the water. Don't buy from street food vendors. Take malaria pills. Bring plenty of hand sanitizer. Apply mosquito repellent. Wear clothes that cover your "lady parts."

Heed the advice above or live dangerously...
You know you're going somewhere life changing when everyone emphatically shares how they survived (or how they didn't quite survive) this journey you're about to take. 

I'm sitting in our first of many hotel accommodations along the path of this pilgrimage of India with Arun Gandhi. For over a decade, many have experienced this same route with Arun as their guide--but for us, it will be our own.

There are two competing story lines here: One is that this tour of India is for my grad program. After my professor's many research trips to India, she was compelled to make this a two-week field study course. Upon completion of this tour, I'll have earned two more credits towards my masters degree. But moreso, this trip offers me a perspective of how others are changing a country that in so many ways has been left in ruin. I'm not just along for the ride here. I'm studying the ways in which Gandhi had envisioned his principles, how his legacy is to be carried forth, and I'm hoping to apply it back in the states to our own educational system.

The other story line is really not my own but equally important.  My travel companion (a.k.a. my husband Mat) is shooting a documentary of this journey -- and with that means we will not only be dealing with the immersive feeling of being somewhere new and learning what we can, but also confronting the task of recording this journey in a meaningful way. 

In addition, it meant that we had to plan and pack an extraordinary amount of gear: gaffer tape, camera housings, 2 tripods, 3 cameras, and enough batteries and chargers to keep him powered for days. Our itinerary required all of this to be stuffed into our two carry-on bags and backpacks. I don't know how we ever made it through security.

Even the journey to get here for the Gandhi Legacy tour was not simple. It began by renting a car Wednesday morning and driving four hours to Miami.  From there we took two flights, about eight hours a piece; the first leg of the trip to Zurich, Switzerland was followed by the second from Switzerland to Mumbai.

Entry into this country was rather painless. We swung our loaded backpacks over our shoulders, and rolled our suitcases into the airport (a rather long way to customs).  A customs agent fingerprinted each of us, and our bags were haphazardly scanned by a security agent.  As we walked out of the airport, a crowd of people with signs waited. Amongst them we found the appointed travel company and headed the short distance to our hotel.

It didn't take long for me to notice the complete desolation of India, even in the darkness. Stray dogs walking through the airport parking lot, street vendors next to their carnivalesque pop-up shops, people everywhere. We were escorted through the iron security gates of the Waterstones Hotel, guided through a metal detector, and headed to check in. 


The view of Mumbai from our hotel window.