GANDHI LEGACY TOUR

On December 27, 2016, I embarked on a trip to India with a group from my college.  This was not a journey to visit various historical landmarks; instead, our trip to India was to introduce us to some of the social organizations that are making an impact throughout India.  The Gandhi Legacy Tour centers around the ideas and principles of Mahatma Gandhi and is led by Gandhi’s grandson, Arun Gandhi. 

Each day, I took extensive notes about our travel experience.  I strove to include a lot of information I learned about the organizations we visited, but also about the emotional intensity of the journey itself.   This website is a collection of those notes and photos from our journey.

You too can experience this annual pilgrimage to India.
Visit: http://gandhitour.info/

   

Day 14 - Delhi - Gandhi Memorial and Museums

There are very few rules for driving  (drive on the left side, edge out who you can because a bus is bigger than a scooter) & surprisingly few accidents. What may look like 2 lanes is utilized as if there are five. The car horn is not reserved for special occasions but in constant use to tell everyone you're taking over. So it should be no surprise that I, the foreigner, had my own accident on our way to Delhi. I dozed off and didn't brace myself as the bus came to a screeching halt to pay a toll. I fell from the back of the bus onto the floor and in the process, gouged a chunk out of my shin and broke my pinky toe. I can still walk a reasonable distance, but I'm very careful not to do too much.

After that exciting ride, it was quite a relief when the bus pulled up to our first taste of America -- the Holiday Inn. We stayed on the 13th floor. This was, by far, the best accommodations. Our rooms were above par for even a stateside hotel and we learned that our tour guides had finally lifted the ban on eating fruits and salads. 

Gandhi's accommodations at the location where he was assassinated

Our agenda in the morning was to visit Gandhi Smriti. This is where Gandhi stayed during the last few months of his life. He fasted for peace here, and it is also the location where he was assassinated. Tushar, Gandhi's great grandson first showed us the room where he fasted and the area in which he conducted meetings. Afterwards, we made the somber walk to the site of his assassination. Tushar gave an emotional explanation of the events of that fateful day and then each of us, in our own way, paid respects to Gandhi. 

Footsteps to the site of Gandhi's assassination 

It was a short ride then to the Gandhi museum where his possessions, as well as historical information, are preserved followed by a short tour of Raj Ghat, where Gandhi was cremated. 

Raj Ghat the site of Gandhi's cremation

Day 12 & 13 - Bus Ride to Sariska and the Waterman

I was a little “worse for wear” as we traveled to Sariska from Ajmer.  When Mat and I settled into our last hotel room, there was a very peculiar sound.  I traced the intermittent screeching to the air return vent. The hotel may have looked Vegas beautiful from the outside, but I soon realized that the air ducts were infested with a colony of rodents. They circulated through making noises about every 45 minutes, and occasionally I'd hear one fall from the air duct into the wall (to who knows where). So the sounds of a rodent party kept me up all night. I resorted to a sleeping pill and earplugs and prayed for rest.

The 5-hour bus ride the following day shuttled us north to Sariska. This town is known for its tiger sanctuary. As much as we'd love to experience the wildlife, the schedule is jam-packed already, and there's simply not a spare moment to add a big cat excursion to this itinerary.  Instead, we spent the afternoon with the Waterman of India. Over 30 years ago, the Waterman, Rajendra Singh (a medical doctor by trade) was approached by a local village elder he was treating. This elder asked him to help the village with their shortage of water in this arid land. Singh, of course, reminded the old man that his expertise was medicine, not in water conservation.  The elder replied that it wasn't the physician's formal skills that were needed; it was his authority as an outsider that was necessary. And so this project began. He has now transformed this arid region of Rajasthan into a fertile, green area that can produce crops, has an ongoing water source, and has allowed many of the wildlife to return (including the tigers). 

As we approached Turun Bharat Sangh - the place of the Waterman's ashram, we were greeted by local villagers.  The fashion of this area is quite beautiful and unique to this part of India. Women in this region cover their heads (and sometimes entire face) with an Odhni - a brightly colored swath of material, and the men are dressed in scarves wrapped into turbans called Pagris.  Each of us was blessed by one of the villagers with a yellow kumkum and pieces of rice placed on our forehead. I found out later that the rice represents fertility. The women of our tour were presented with our own colorful scarves and the men given turbans. My scarf is gauze-like material that is tie-died bright orange; considering the drop of temperature in this region, I'll be wearing it for the remainder of our time here. 

The Waterman was there to greet us, of course, ready to embrace Arun and Tushar Gandhi, the guests of honor.  Singh has a strong presence about him, and he lectured extensively of the water issues and improvements here in the villages as well as water issues abroad. Some individuals from the neighboring communities spoke of the impact of Singh -- how he was at first shunned by the villagers and then slowly embraced by them. The Waterman then took us on a tour -- first showing our group an example of how to find where water pools, how to harness that water to be stored for times of drought, and the how this concept has replenished the underground aquifers.  We then drove to the local village of his first water experiment. Again India presents its dichotomy through environment -- one side is whirling dust and desert-like, the other is lush and green, covered by growth and small bodies of collected water.  By the time we finished our village hike, it was getting windy and dark.  Our tour group had traveled for most of Day 12, and many of us were getting progressively more sick with this mentally and emotionally exhausting pilgrimage -- well, I suppose I can only speak for myself. I hadn't slept well the night before and my throat was getting worse, my head feeling congested, my body exhausted. 

After an evening tea and a second round of butter cookies back at the Waterman's ashram, we drove another hour to our accommodations in Sariska. We are staying on a vast expanse of rocky wilderness.  Some of our accommodations look like insulated tent structures, while others stay in small apartments surrounding a pool. I'd estimate the entire resort sits on about 10 acres. Connectivity to the outside world is non-existent, and the electricity here is intermittent. After a late buffet dinner with the group, I helped Mat set up the lighting and camera in our hotel room for his much-anticipated interview with Tushar. Immediately afterwards I crawled into bed. So as I slept on the far end of the bed, Mat met with Tushar, asking him questions about what we've experienced on this trip to India or to recount a story Tushar had told us during our travels.

It's official; we are both sick now. Our tour group is on the day 2 excursion with the Waterman while we are in bed this morning trying to recuperate for the long, 8 hour journey to Delhi this afternoon. What was supposed to be a short, late morning trip to visit another "Waterman transformed" village became a round trip 6 hour car ride to the uppermost ridge of this beautiful land.  I'm in no shape to make that happen along with this afternoon's bus ride. So unfortunate, yet fortunate for the downtime - I'm thankful to rest.

Day 11 - Ajmer, Rajasthan, Barefoot College

We settled into our hotel in Ajmer close to 3:30 in the morning. From the neon framed gate, Mat described this place as "looking like a Vegas casino with 4 slot machines and 1 prostitute." Tushar explained that this hotel is commonly booked as a vacation place or by couples honeymooning; though the gate might seem lit like a Vegas sideshow, inside is quite beautifully decorated.  The 8:30 wake up call arrived quickly, and after breakfast we drove an hour and a half to the Barefoot College.

Founded by Bunker Roy, the Barefoot College teaches skills to those who lack a formal, traditional education. Skills include building solar cookers, transistors for LED lighting and also offering training to the women to become medical or dental technicians. Arun Gandhi mentioned this particular organization when he visited Rollins this past fall. Roy, who was an engineer by trade, told his parents he felt compelled to spend his first post-college year helping the impoverished people of India. He has never left India; instead, he has expanded his school into parts of Africa, Mexico and beyond -- bringing over 600 impoverished women to this college to learn skills to take back to their own villages. 

On campus, our tour group was treated to a puppet show and learned that they use traditionally created puppets to help spread social understanding and inform villagers of government schemes. I purchased two hand puppets from the gift shop on campus. I named the female "Raja" and the male puppet "Stanley" --as they are from the area of Rajasthan. These two characters are gifts for Eve and Landon upon our return; I'm taking photos with them for the remainder of the trip to share "Adventures with Raja and Stan" along the way. After the puppet informational, we toured other parts of the 2 campuses. From dental technicians to acupuncturists, this school focuses on empowering women to take many valuable skills back to their villages. 

As we entered the second campus, our tour group was welcomed by a group of Indian women who are building both solar powered cookers and heaters. We observed the process of them cutting the metal, hammering sheets into place, welding the edges together-- even the teachers of this craft were once impoverished women who've now "graduated" from this program. "Graduated" means that the Barefoot College believes that these skills speak for themselves; this is about practical training, not a piece of paper or certification.  We were then led to the "Solar Mamas" -- a large boardroom-like area covered in circuit boards, wiring, instruction books, and women representing at least 8 different countries including Micronesia, Senegal, Madagascar and Mexico. They learn how to assemble circuit boards here for LED lanterns, light panels, and solar electricity.  Of course there are many different languages and cultures working together, so a lot of the instruction is through photos and color codes. These innovators stay in a hostel on campus for 6 months learning their trade and then commit to utilizing this skill back in the village they call home.

On a personal note, so far I have managed to stay relatively healthy; however, Mat (along with many of our fellow tour mates) is suffering from congestion. We've run out of cough drops and most of our decongestant supply has dried up (pun intended). As our group sat to discuss the events of the day, I began feeling my health steadily weaken; my throat is scratchy and I'm on what I call "on the verge of the edge" of getting sick. This is a tireless journey both physically and emotionally with very little downtime -- and yet, I wouldn't trade this experience for the world. 

Day 10 - Heritage Walk, Ahmedabad

Each morning in Ahmedabad, we sat in the hotel's courtyard for a breakfast buffet, catching up with our fellow tour members and telling stories. We would order our standard breakfast omelet -- as Mat is in love with the mild, soft cheese here in India. Most days, the neighborhood's monkey population visited our group. They climbed down from their perch on the nearby building or swung near the buffet table via the large tree just outside the hotel wall. It wouldn't take long for the hotel owner to scare them away. They were a little more aggressive than the visiting pigeons, but it was fun to see them here in the city. 

After breakfast and monkeys, we embarked again for Old City of Ahmedabad -- this time for a Heritage Walk with our entire group and a local guide. There are so many areas of historical significance in Ahmedabad.  Ahmedabad was established in 1411 by Ahmed Shah.  The ending "-bad" means city or dwelling just as the ending "pur" or "pol" which also means the same thing -- one's habitat. So our tour was taken across the old city by foot to the joining neighborhoods or "pols."

Ahmedabad's "Pol" or neighborhoods are interconnected throughout the old city

The people of this city practice their own form of Feng Shui. The roads of this planned city structure flow north and south, and houses are built east to west so that the sun shines through the front of the house in the morning. Beyond planning the direction of roads and houses, Old Ahmedabad is organized by 600 different communities that live together here. Imagine how areas of America have Chinatown in New York or Boston's Italian population resiides in its North End. To keep everyone living peacefully, this kind of "pol" culture was promoted.  Priest, shepherd, Jain, every community had its own structure, personality, behavior every community. For example, practitioners of Jainism strictly eat vegetarian; if someone next door cooks non-vegetarian food, their religious sentiment may be compromised. Shepherds tend to the animals--so the cow dung might get problematic for others in the community. Priests may have a different daily prayer schedule than the other people and ringing of bells in the early morning may disrupt other city dwellers. So because of their cultural differences they prefer to stay in separate communities.

Though there are distinct neighborhods, every "pol" is connected though over 100 secret passages. Our tour group paused in an alleyway where we were surrounded by doors of many colors, sizes and shapes. The guide then asked us to find the secret passage --a door led beneath the dwellings and into the next neighborhood. After finding a hidden toilet facility and a closet, we did finally select the secret passage into the next neighborhood.

One of the temples we visited during our Heritage Walk

After our city tour, we checked out late from the hotel to make our way to the Ahmedabad station for the last train ride of this pilgrimage--from Ahmedabad to Ajmer.  This train ride was to be a much shorter ride than our first-- only 6 hours.  Mat and I shared a sleeper compartment with an Indian family with children much the same age as our own. We slept in the adjacent bottom bunks, and the children slept above us. The train traveled northeast to Ajmer where we visited Barefoot College.

Day 9 - A side trip off the Legacy tour and into India by ourselves

We've rested another night in Ahmedabad and are thankful our accommodations are at the same hotel for three nights in a row this time. On the legacy tour, we typically spend one, maybe two if we're lucky, nights at a hotel -- which means we are tirelessly packing and unpacking for the bus or train ride ahead. Today our tour group was scheduled to visit a farm about 2 or 3 hours outside the city; however, Mat was adamant he wanted to spend some portion of our stay in Ahmedabad capturing footage and taking his time.  There is so much to see and experience on the Gandhi Legacy tour-- this rigorous schedule means sometimes Mat is unable to get enough time to adjust for lighting his shots or manage any interviews at the organizations we visit. Today was his special day. Our tour manager, Alok, arranged a driver and an interpreter for us from 9am until 5pm. Of course, this little veer off the schedule required a signoff from my professor in charge, and she was kind enough to let me go under the conditions that I would carry along her phone number and Alok's contact information as well.  

Our hired interpreter was Surech (sir-Race) a tall, 40-year-old man with a strong voice and a deep understanding of his culture. He was quick to impart how important family life is to this country. He talked about how the social structure is very strong in his country. Grandparents live jointly with grandchildren and impart the experience and wisdom they've learned.  Surech emphasized that sometimes this transfer of knowledge can be even more important than traditional education. This was a theme he commonly returned to in our time with him, and it's important to note that it is a central philosophy in India: the value of family. 

Mathe Singh Jain Temple

Mathe Singh Jain Temple

On our first of many stops, we visited one of the Jain temples in the Old City corridor of Ahmedabad.  As it was morning, many residents of the area were coming to the temple to be blessed with good luck for the day.  A typical Jainist visits the temple just after the morning bath.  Surech described Jainist as very intellectual people -- businessmen, professors, doctors.  One young Jain man tapped me on the shoulder and asked me where I was from. After I mentioned I am a yoga teacher, he replied that he had been practicing yoga for 3 months now. Two women stopped to say hello and informed me that is was not advisable to enter the temple wearing black.  Black, to them, is the color of sadness. So wearing black, what I thought would be an inconspicuous color choice for our day out, was not the best idea. I may have to rethink my wardrobe. 

There are restoration efforts taking place on the temple grounds. They are using the same primitive tools and building materials to repair the temple’s sandstone. So adjacent to the temple are workers using cattle attached to a large stone wheel.  Mat asked if he could take their pictures, and after some interaction, they warmed up to us observing. Mat asked if the cows had names and when they replied no, they asked Mat to name them --- and he decided on "Abbott and Costello."  They in turn wanted him to also name the driver of the animals, and of course, Mat had a cheeky answer - that the driver's parents had given him a name.  They insisted, and Mat told the crew that "Lurch" should be the driver's name. 

Dada Mari Stepwell

After taking many photos with the crew, we headed to our next location -- a beautiful site called the Dada Mari Stepwell. Built in the 16th century, this stepwell was built by the Hindu rulers. One can find this type of stepwell in Gujarat and Rajastan due to water scarcity in these areas. Its main goal was conserving the water for drinking, bathing, and for the animals as well. Inside are Hindu designs of flowers and both Arabic and Sanskrit inscriptions. The stepwell drops several stories in interlocking of system of yellow sandstone. Imagine an ancient, upside down (meaning into the ground) pillared sandstone building. 

The caretaker of the Bai Hari Mosque

Bai Hari Mosque

Located behind this stepwell is a private mosque. In the distance, we could see the caretaker of the mosque. There are roughly 100 mosques from the 14th century or 15th century here in the old part of Ahmedabad.  The masons working in this area were specialists in making the Hindu temple and the Jain temples so when the Muslim ruler tasked them with building the mosque, they offered motifs of the Hindu and Jain traditions. We approached the very dutiful mosque caretaker with caution as he was laying out the prayer mats for the day and offered him a small donation to engage in conversation with us.  He shared that he has tended to this mosque for the last 48 years. He must've taken a liking to our interest in him because soon we were spontaneously led on a rare tour to the roof of this holy place. He motioned for us to climb the small spiral staircase encased in one of the mosque’s minarets.  From here, we had a breathtaking view of the surrounding area. Truly it was an experience only made possible by being at the right place at the right time.   The day was full of those moments, and although I was disappointed to miss being on our tour, it was a personal view of India as I assume only a few had experienced.  

Vegetable and Flower Market

Mat wished to get some footage of the local marketplace with the guide, so we stopped at the local market.  An elephant and his owner greeted us as we found a place to park for our walk around the crowded streets. We stopped to engage with the elephant owner. His 40-year-old elephant's name is Rose (in English) -- I can't remember the name in Gujarati. He has cared for this elephant for 30 years and describes their relationship affectionately as girlfriend and boyfriend.  She keeps him from getting harmed and he does the same. Though many speak of the mistreatment of these beautiful beasts, this seemed to be a symbiotic relationship. I walked back to the car to retrieve a banana for her, and afterwards, when I paid the man his rupees, Rose clasped my paper bill in her trunk and handed it directly to her “boyfriend.”

Rose, the elephant, and her "boyfriend"

The vegetable marketplace is full of middlemen.  Farmers grow the produce and transport it to the market to be sold.  From here, people sit roadside in this marketplace, displaying these goods for sale. Though we were informed of the plight of the farmers, here in the market is a vibrant place of trade. Sellers are eager to engage in conversation, and once Mat started taking pictures, people constantly asked for their photograph to be taken with whatever they were selling or with their friend at the next vegetable cart.  Regardless of occupation, the people of India are always proud of their job or what it is that gives them identity. I think back to the sugar worker who wanted to be filmed with his prized cow; similarly, in this market, a friendly young man sat side by side with his dog; women selling chickpeas or leeks would cradle a handful of vegetables as an integral part of her photo pose. 

A proud dog owner near the vegetable market

Everywhere you visit in India, even walking down the street, people ask "Where are you from?" and want to engage in conversation. In some ways it makes me feel more connected to them -- this desire to know, to exchange ideas. That is what this city is known for anyway -- historically it was a trade hub along the Silk Road, but I'll save that for another day. 

Vegetables on display among the vendors here at the market

Mat showing a grandmother and her grandchild their picture

Day 8 - Gujarat Vidyapeeth, Subarmati Ashram in Ahmedabad

We slept comfortably in a deluxe king suite at this beautiful residence-turned-boutique hotel.  The owner lives on premises, just one floor below our suite, and was born and raised in this home.  He chose to convert it into a hotel just about a decade ago. Needless to say, we feel pretty guilty staying in such a nice place after visiting slums and migrant camps; it is impossible to be human and not feel this way.

Our first stop of the day was a university where Gandhi was appointed chancellor, Gujarat Vidyapeeth. We met with graduate students in their large auditorium where each of us introduced ourselves and were given an opportunity to participate in a question and answer session with about 60 men and women. Some study economics, social work, or communications. A lot of them showed interest in teaching abroad. While we met, each student sat on mats they had crafted themselves, and next to each student was their own personal spinning wheel that looked much like a record player in a suitcase. They are required to work on spinning thread from cotton for at least 45 minutes a day, and they are allowed to do this very meditative activity during their seminar classes. There are several "trades" these students learn, above and beyond their specialties at the university. We toured parts of the campus, which included an example of the glass blowing studio. Here in India, they do not have the means to simply throw away test tubes or broken lab equipment; instead, they repair the glass themselves. One instructor gave a demonstration of how he creates test tubes from the long glass tubing.  He cuts the 4-foot tube to the correct size using an ebony stone and then heats up the ends.  Everything here is recycled and nothing, absolutely nothing, goes to waste.  It is an entirely "green" campus.  They treated us to a lunch, as most of our organizations do; this time, when we finished our meals, the uneaten food was scraped into a bin and we collectively did dishes in a cleaning "trough" shoulder to shoulder with the other students.  

Next was our visit to Gandhi's ashram that opened in 1915 after his time in South Africa. An ashram is simply a community that works together and upholds certain standards of a spiritual lifestyle. Mr. Arun Gandhi was very popular here as he was recognized by many visitors to the ashram.  There were many photo ops and blessings.  A highlight of the trip was watching him work at his grandfather's spinning wheel.  Afterwards, I asked him how long it took him to learn the art of spinning cotton.  He replied that it took him about 15 to 18 days to master the craft.  There is a rhythm and coordination about this art, and he is very much against the automation of the process. The evolution of the spinning wheel could be a documentary in and of itself. 

Arun at his grandfather's spinning wheel

 Our visit to the ashram was really the first time we'd seen him in full celebrity status; people stopping and taking photos or asking him questions about his grandfather. Otherwise, it seems as though he is just another gentle soul, traveling India.  There is a museum on the premises, and after we looked through the various artifacts, we crossed the street for a visit to the Gujarat Khadi Mandal organization, which is associated with Gandhi's ashram here in Ahmedabad. It employs many its workers from the slums adjacent to the ashram. This was, and always will be, part of Gandhi's vision- to empower people to sustain themselves and help the community.  This organization repurposes old bits of paper into beautiful gift bags and journals, among other things. Handmade journals, picture frames made of colorful handmade paper, handcrafted envelopes-- I may have to buy another suitcase just to haul all of the ornate purchases I made today. 

The day ended with some time with Arun Gandhi describing the various places we visited today. There are so many interesting details from his vision that he shares with all of us, and truly takes the time to personally get to know everyone he meets. One of the many ideas he shared with us was that "our physical appearance has been given to us by God, but our spiritual beauty is something we must cultivate in ourselves.  If we want peace, we have to live that peace.  It is not a destination.  It is how we live here and now and how we strive to respect and understand other people.  We put so many labels on ourselves and others that we forget that we are all human beings. Labels create walls; they don't really matter at all because in the end I will never be like you and you will never be like me but we can respect each other for who we are." 

Read that part again. It is a string of thoughts from this evening's talk and no matter who you are, it applies to you. 

Day 7 - The Salt People and the Ride to Ahmedabad

We checked out of our simple hut at the Kutch Safari resort after eating a buffet breakfast with the group.  Mat was one of the last to eat as he spent much of his morning with camera in hand capturing the sunrise.  He is a full-throttle champion this trip -- up at dawn organizing his camera equipment, charging batteries, and packing his carry bag for the filming ahead.  

I, on the other hand, am in slow motion.  I didn't sleep much at all last night.  Though our accommodations were comfortable enough, I had too much on my mind.  The days have been filled with so many experiences -- it is sensory overload on steroids.  So much so that my brain is much like a stew with too many ingredients.  On the bus, I've been meditating. Sometimes it is just to make me focus less on the arduous drive ahead, other times it's to prevent me from thinking about having to pee, but most often it is to clear my mind "stew" of some of its ingredients.

One of the Agria's migrant salt flat dwelling - they live here for seven months of the year 

Regardless we are adding more to the mental/emotional/sensory "pot" today as we visit the salt fields.  This day of the tour we met a spokesperson for SETU.  This organization helps promote the welfare of the salt people, the Agrias.  Agrias are migrant workers who spend 7 months tending to the crops of salt during their harvesting season. Though the caste system has technically been abolished here, the people of India believe that if you are into a particular lot in life, that it is your "calling" to respect what you've been dealt; however, for the Agria, their fate is just another form of slavery.  They work to produce a crop of salt that is then collected and given for literally pennies on the dollar as it is whisked away by the salt cartel dealers who then sell it for exponentially more than they paid the Agria people. There haven't been many agricultural advances in the tending of the Agrias harvesting process, so this country is pretty reliant on the Agria's "art" of knowing just when the salt crop is ready.  

After a short introduction to the plight of the Agria people, we loaded the bus for a trip to the salt beds. Down the long, primitive roads we bounced for nearly an hour.  I wasn't sure how or if our tour bus would quite possibly make it out there-- over literally hundreds of speed bumps along the way.  Needless to say, I took my first dose of Dramamine as a preemptive strike against motion sickness.  

Solar pump technology helps drain the salt flat

When we finally arrived to the Agria's salt land, it was obvious to why these people lose their eyesight so early in life.  It was a vast dry and desert-like landscape with just a few scattered tent structures near the salt harvest. There are salted dust storms that keep their eyes irritated for much of their lives, and just as there is snowblindness, the salt beds' reflective surface immediate makes one squint.

The agria salt workers we met during our visit

  We had very little time to interact with the migrant workers, but we were able to see that the SETU organization was providing a solar powered option for pumping the water out of the salt beds. There is such a need for automation in some of these processes, but little is done to help. We left wishing we had given them what sunglasses we had in our suitcase and backpacks.  Sunglasses may seem like something small and insignificant, but it would make their life slightly less difficult and would've been a blessing to them.  It was a hard realization and we are looking for ways we can help them.

We are on the road again-- driving away from the India/Pakistan border and into Ahmedabad.  It's another long day of travel.  Ahmedabad is the 6th largest city in India and home to over 5.5 million residents. The tour was way behind schedule and the back of the bus, ourselves included, almost resorted to singing "100 bottles of beer on the wall." As we finally reached the city limits, my seatmate, Persha, admitted that I didn't look so hot. We arrived close to 10 in the evening in Ahmedabad. Though I was ready to go straight to bed and recuperate, our beautiful boutique hotel, Mani Mansion, had arranged a beautiful dinner buffet for us.  The hotel staff members greeted us and blessed each one of our tour with a traditional "kumkum" a bright red spot of tumeric powder on our forehead; we ate, and we crashed hard after such an eventful, emotional day.  

Day 6 - Kutch Safari Resort visiting Khamir and Hunnershala

I slept for as long as possible on the train. It would be the only opportunity for the rest of the day. We disembarked in Bhuj, but not before having spent a good twenty minutes playing charades with the train tenders near our cabin. These two men clean the compartments and sleep just outside of compartment where the cars connect to each other and the bathroom is located. They were very eager to learn about us and America, so we did a lot of pantomime to impart little bits about our lives. One of the workers has two young girls while the other has a grown son. Both expressed their desire, almost desperately so, to fly back and work for us in our home. Mat told them that we are our own housekeepers, but thanked them kindly.

Our "train tenders" wanted to come home with us to America

The Kutch Safari Resort was a short drive from the train station. This city is located in the northwest corner of India near the border of Pakistan. Camels here were once commonly used to smuggle drugs across the border, but the government has now put up barriers to prevent some of that from happening. What is clear in this city is the division between old and new. The earthquake in January 2001 ravaged this area; so now, years later, there is much new construction to see along the roadside. The modern dwellings rise within 200 yards of primitive huts-- and I can't seem to get away from the idea of there being two Indias everywhere we go--the old and the new.  In Mumbai, it was the renovation of the Marketplace office tucked into the slum. Here it is this new construction. 

Kutch Safari Resort

We are staying at what has been described as "a popular tourist destination." Our bus arrived at this resort at 10 in the morning. We ate a buffet breakfast outside of their dining area and took in some of the beautiful vistas that the lodge has to offer--we are perched on a mountain overlooking the water.  This is not a traditional hotel. We were each given a circular hut with a porch where there's a padlock on the door rather than some programmable key. Our mattress is a thin layer on top of a platform and though the bathroom is spacious, toilet paper and hot water are pretty sparse. 

The group had just enough time to wash up from our train ride before heading to Khamir. Khamir means "esteem." This is a group of artisans that lives here in this part of the country. They work together to keep old traditional textile craftsmanship alive and also work to repurpose some of the plastic trash that is left everywhere. We watched a demonstration of the weaving process and discussed the especially soft, local cotton that is gathered from this area. Traditionally, the men are the weavers; however, women have found a way to support themselves in this cooperative through the collection and weaving of plastic bags. There is no comprehensive trash program in Bhuj, so poor women sift through the trash pile for "quality" trash bags. Colorful bags and silver foil are treasures here, but broken or small bags are not useful. There's even a group of 30 children in Bhuj that collect from over 300 houses the usable material. Bags are then sorted and the ones that are usable are then washed and cut into strips to be woven.  This kind of empowerment of the women of this area reminds me that Gandhi believed women should have the opportunity to do whatever a man can do. Though he knows that women and men may have different strengths, if a woman has the desire and the capacity to do this work, she should be allowed to do it. This is a great expression of that ideal.

A traditional block printing demonstration at Khamir

There are other trades too, of course.  We learned of the block printing tradition -- that each printer has its own particular stamp design and are specific to each region.  The ones used while we visited had been passed to this young printer from his father.  These blocks are carved out of wood and there are stamps on both surfaces of the bock.  For instance, one side might have a wider band of a design while the other side has a small border.

We again had our lunch at the organization. Mat and I chose to sit at a picnic table where one of the many dogs of the area had made his perch.  He looked sad and pitiful, but feasted after our tour members left much of their lunches untouched.

Our final stop was visiting Hunnershala -- a foundation that helps those who have lost everything to the earthquake here (and in other areas).  Their vision reminds me a little of America’s Habitat for Humanity.  This group of engineers and architects help rebuild communities, but also honor the traditions, needs and wants of each individual family. It was best described by the founder, Kiran Vaghela. He references the grieving process of most in this country involves the retelling of how that person died. Much in the same way, the people who are stuck in temporary camps after a disaster are asked to share the story, just as in a death, about how they lost their home. This begins the bonding process. He believes building a home is the first step in the process of reconstructing a person's life.  There is a large amount of cultural sensitivity involved and each family is asked to help do what they can to be part of the process. That begins with understanding how these displaced people envision their house to look and feel. 

Hunnershala Foundation demonstrating the work at the building campus

Part of Hunnarshala's mission is training young artisans here through an apprenticeship at a school just down the road. The young apprentices took pride in showing us their design of this architectural marvel-- intricately cut wood, well ventilated and naturally lit areas highlighted this beautiful structure that had been made by some of the earlier apprentices.  Volunteer architects from MIT and other well-known universities have worked in tandem to design the materials and makeup of this place where these students learn and build. The current "class" had been working there for the last 6 months and were simply fascinated with our group. They took as many pictures of us as we did them. It's common here in India to be asked to have a photograph with people. Though I've heard stories of some negative photo op experiences, I have experienced nothing but respect and decency from everyone so far. 

The long day ended with everyone in a heap of exhaustion. We shared our highlights of the trip so far, shoveled food into our mouths, and walked carefully back to our huts -- trying to avoid any encounters with mosquitoes, snakes, and other unwanted guests lingering near our dwelling.

Day 5 - Share/Marketplace and the train to Bhuj

Day 5 began with a bus and ended with an overnight train. We departed rather early from Pune to drive back north to Mumbai. The tour guide, Alok, forewarned us that this would be a long day.  We packed our suitcases and backpacks with the understanding that we wouldn't have much time to get into our larger bags during this leg of the tour.  They would be stuffed under our bench seats on the train along with the other passengers in our cabin and difficult to rummage through during our ride north to Bhuj.

Upon our arrival back into Mumbai, we drove through what they call "New Mumbai." Nothing looks new here. Imagine a rundown, high-rise apartment complex with what looks like bird cages covering the windows.  Litter of every kind, clay-covered abandoned cars, newspaper shreds --detritus is everywhere. There is no organized system for tending to the waste produced in this area. Later I learned that instead of having slums in the cities, the government attempted to provide these high-rise apartment alternatives to the slums. It has compounded the problem for those in India. 

The entranceway to Marketplace/Share

We drove straight into the traditional slum areas of Mumbai to an organization called Marketplace/Share.  Their office is located in an unassuming alleyway amongst the people who have little living spaces and small storefronts next to a bustling street.  The door opens and our group walks into what seems like another world.  Fluorescent bulbs reflect against brand new, white marble floors and an array of gray tiled walls.  As we carry in the dust from the alleyway, one can't help but feel bad tracking in the city dirt.  This space had recently undergone renovation and the organization completed construction just two days before this visit.  Everything smelled and looked like a Home Depot display model right down to the streamlined ceiling fans and gray patterned mosaic tile detail on the walls.  

The newly renovated interior of Marketplace where we enjoyed lunch with the organization

The Marketplace/Share organization provides a livable wage and fair working conditions to some of the people that live in the slums here. After a short introduction, we were broken into two groups to visit the working areas.  I took hold of the GoPro camera and headed with one group while Mat set off into the streets with another group.  We left the white, sterile feeling of the organization and walked the narrow passages to where a collection of workers sew and embroider the season's latest line of clothing.  Down the alleyway and around a few corners, one of the shop owners led us to where he housed a group of seamstresses and fabric cutters.  Ten to twelve people worked in a space no larger than my kitchen. Above us was another small space for those who embroider. I could sense a level of empowerment felt by the women who work here. Marketplace/Share offers each of them an opportunity to take a leadership role in rotation. They have social workers that provide services for these families, as well as organize weekly enrichment activities for the children of these craftswomen. Central to Gandhi's philosophy is the principle of 'swadeshi', which, in effect, means local self-sufficiency; every stop along the way of this legacy tour seems to echo his vision for the people of India to be active in their role to improve not only their station in life but to embrace ways that can help both themselves and their community.

After the tour, Marketplace treated us to a homemade, delicious meal of naan, rice, and some of the traditional vegetarian dishes of Mumbai. Mat quickly ate and then vanished out the door--disappearing back into the streets to get footage of some of the locals.  He made friends with many of the curious children that played in an adjacent alleyway.  Some would wave while others would come look over his shoulder to see what pictures he'd captured.  

Mat shares his photography with the children of Mumbai

Soon it was time for us to head for the bustling Mumbai train station. As soon as we stepped off the tour bus, we were approached by young women begging for money. Children saddled their hips and motioned the same as the mother -- hands outstretched, tapping each one of us on the shoulder, bringing fingers to sign "eat" and tapping us again. One of our tour companions was very firm with them, and that truly set the precedent for the rest of those looking for us to give them spare change. This area is rampant with groups that work as a team to take money from those willing to give and these beggars are forced then to pass it on to the ringleader. Even if you think you are helping, it does nothing for these little ones.

Mat and I were assigned seats in a cabin with other Indian travelers heading to Bhuj. There were complications with finding accommodations together with our large group, so we were separate from our tour, but just happy to share a cabin with each other. It had been a long day of travel from Pune, and our bodies and minds were running on fumes. Our compartment slept 8 people. 6 were sitting on two benches facing one another and 2 more were across the hall at the other window. As you look up, racks of cots hang from above. At bedtime (which we determined to be early) our seat benches also became beds.  You're really at the mercy of the lower bunks as to when you're forced to climb to your bed and go to sleep.

Our train accommodations: 3 bunks high.

A 15 hour ride meant that as the train continued, our compartment filled gradually to capacity with travelers. My seatmate was in her late 60s and expressed as best she could that she wanted my bottom bunk. It was an easy request for me to fulfill--though there are no official rules on it being necessary. Really the only downside of the middle bunk was climbing down to go to the bathroom. 

Speaking of the bathroom, our tour gave us plenty of water and a boxed dinner for the ride but we barely touched any of it, maybe because we weren't very eager to use the facilities on board. They have a western bathroom on this train--western only in the way that it looks as it has a place for you to sit.  Any toilet waste here flushes straight onto the railroad tracks. You can imagine what the seat and compartment looks like on a moving train as passengers are challenged to steady themselves. 

We were in close quarters and I was thankful to have packed my own travel sleeping bag liner that works as a barrier between myself and the cot below. Each bunk is issued a standard pillow, sheet, and blanket-- however sometimes the surroundings dictate ones desire for extra barrier. Regardless of the conditions, I slept hard.