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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
No comments:
Post a Comment