Tuesday, January 3, 2017

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.

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