We’re not in Kansas any more….

So clearly my wonderful intentions for weekly updates have fallen by the wayside. In my defence, it has been an incredibly busy few weeks. I finally got time to catch my breath over the last few days and have been enjoying  beauty treatments, rambling the markets, lazy coffees and a trip to the cinema (note: it would appear that Bengalis see no need to switch off their phones or suspend conversations during films…by far and away the noisiest cinema trip ever!).

So where to begin? So much has happened since my last entry. Time just slips away from you here. Everyone hit their stride very well with their placements and were heading off to school and throwing themselves 110% into the schools and the communities. There were a few illnesses along the way but nothing too major. GP activities went well and I was really pleased with the engagement from my two teams of volunteers and I can honestly say that I really enjoyed facilitating the sessions with them. In the blink of an eye it was time for GP Week. One of the best aspects of the DC role is that you build up to a tangible project, you have something very solid to work towards, and while the frenzy of activity in the week beforehand is hectic and somewhat stressful, it is a good feeling to be working towards a set output. Myself and Clare (and Gail once she arrived) put in many hours planning, tweaking, practicing, linking, reciting to ourselves in dark corners, making out to-do list after to-do list, meeting speakers and crossing our fingers that the equipment would work (it didn’t all the time!). The launch event was the first of its kind in Kolkata and was a great success. The incredible Dr Atindra Sen addressed the volunteers about the poverty gap, I’m pretty sure most of the jaws in the room were on the ground – he is quite an impressive man and a very captivating speaker. His closing line for his presentation was a very somber and very determined ‘Change will come’.  The volunteer teams presented briefly on their experiences to date which was a fantastic opportunity to realise how diverse everyone’s experience really is. One of the Sabuj Sangha volunteers gave an amazing speech, straight from the heart about his experience to date and how much he had learned from the children in his school – I was hard pushed to hold back the tears at this stage, and there were many wobbly lips around the room at that moment.

But what to say of GP week itself? It was in turns stressful, chaotic, organised, uplifting, inspirational, satisfying and humbling. For the week before hand, lots of volunteers had come up to me saying how completely excited they were for the week ahead which was great to hear, but also a little unsettling as human nature always steps up to check us with a ‘I hope I don’t disappoint you’!. I think my favourite aspect of the week was meeting people who have worked in their fields for so many years but are still so dedicated and passionate, and still believe 100% in the power of change. We gained insights into Indian history and society, into child protection, health, nutrition and education, all delivered by passionate, inspiring and dedicated people. The volunteers massively impressed me with their input and their ideas. On Monday afternoon there was an innovations workshop which concluded with a series of powerful videos on how believing in yourself can be the starting point of many positive things; yet again, dry eyes were a rarity at that moment, I only kept my blubbing under wraps as I knew I had to get up and speak in front of the group in a few minutes! The highlight of my week was the speech by Dr Samir Chaudhari, founder and director if CINI  India. He only spoke for about 20 minutes, but his knowledge and passion shone through; after 35 years with that organisation, he is still seeking new innovations and ways forward, still questioning himself and what he does, still driving for change and looking for new avenues to achieve that change. His warmth, smile, humility and drive will stay with me for a long time to come.

On Friday of last week the whole group headed down to the Sundarbans for a field trip to Sabuj Sangha projects. Now, 50 white people on the platform at Ballygunge Station is obviously a bit of a novelty, and we acquired a few new followers before we even boarded the train. The local trains here are, at the best of times, a bit of a scrum. Elbows out, leave your manners at the door, and get yourself onto that train. Women knock each other out of the way, babies are lifted high above the melee and men somehow clamber onboard with enormous baskets of unidentifiable fruit perched on their heads. I have been on some fairly packed and bizzarre modes of tranposrt over the years but that train journey took the biscuit. My spine was bent about four different ways, not least in trying to avoid the attentions of one of our new followers (although he was mainly interested in my right arm so reasonably harmless). At one stage I was actually kneeling on Niall’s rucksack as I didn’t have the space to stand up straight. You know that your backside shouldn’t be in such close quarters to somone’s head but there is honestly very little to be done about it, just like that elbow in your face was unintentional. . Everyone took all of this in good humour but getting off at Matharapur Road was really no joke. I am not exagerrating when I say that my feet did not touch the ground. I had no control whatsoever of what my body was doing, and at one stage I was squashing the poor woman beside me into the side of the carriage. Yells and roars of ‘CHOLLLLLO CHOOLLLLLLOOOO!! SIDE SIDE SIDE!!!’ mixed in with general yells and shrieks and not knowing what/who you were standing on. At last I somehow found myself on the platform and a few volunteers burst through the bottleneck behind me. As I was looking around trying to see if everyone had made it off the train and attemting to regain my composure, the train started to pull out from the station and took with it three volunteers. Oh well!!!  We found them again at the next station. I love travelling by train and I don’t mind cramped and uncomfortable transport but I really think we were lucky no one was injured, it would be the simples thing to stumble on your way down and get trampled. Anyway, everyone was fine and sure it is a story to tell!!! The rest of the jounrney was less eventful (although one of our followers had actually followed us and seemed to think he was coming to spend the weekend) in well organised mini vans. Off we went through palm trees and rice paddies with countless goats and cows grazing on the side of the road. People passed by on the narrow road on bicylces, on foot or on pallets attached to the back of bikes/motor bikes. Mud huts took the place of Kolkata’s high rises.  Many faces broke into wide smiles as we passed. I started to get that warm feeling of deep contentment that comes over me in the countryside, in wild places. That night falling asleep to a chorus of noisy frogs, with a clear full moon and little artificial light to be seen, I was more peaceful and content than I have been for a while. Fond memories of Enkosini and Nyika came back to play and I remembered how lucky I am to have been to so many beautiful places.

The Sundarbans is an incredible place. Tranquil and beautiful, rural  and remote. But life is harsh in such a place, the environment is so delicate, heavy rains can wash out rice paddies, flood homes and make transport impossible. Livelihoods are fragile and everything is a struggle. The warmth of the people despite their daily struggle took me back to many of my experience in Africa and made me, once again, marvel at the resilience of the human spirit. It was amazing to see the work Sabuj Sangha are doing with the communities to make life more sustainable, to make sure children can go to school instead of to work. We spent the day travelling around by boat (boarded by means of a plank of wood) and a pallet attached to the back of a motorbike  – quite the best way to travel!!!  Seeing the villages and the every day lives of people as well as seeing the incredible natural beauty of the place was certainly a highlight. It felt to be a million miles away from the traffic jams, rubbish piles and beeping horns of Kolkata.

After spending a while somewhere, the extraordinary becomes ordinary and the unexpected expected. But then there are moments of clarity, moments where you realise, hang on a sec!!! This is not home!!  There may be a few of those moments in a week, or maybe none for several weeks. There have been a few for me over the last few weeks. Watching a parade of 80 tiny Indian children through a rural village carrying the Irish flag is a spectacle I will not soon forget. Having an enormous crab inexplicably crawl over my foot on a train will hopefully not become a common occurence. Seeing a tiny four day old baby sleeping beside her beaming Grandmother in the same hospital that houses the solitary ultra-sound machine that serves 4 million people. Wathcing the fascination on the faces of workers in the rice paddies as we pass by en masse before they break into shouts of greeting and big wave. Walking to a football match behind two incredibly narky and noisy tame geese. Walking down narrow muddy pathways between rice paddies and realising how incredibly luck you are to be there, that somehow fate has contrived to allow you a brief time in this place where you never knew existed, where  you never thought about until a few months ago, where many people will never see or will never think of seeing. Looking out at the scenery from the back of a motorbike, with warm air in my face, cows moving lazily out of the way, skittish goats scampering off bleating for their mother, wide eyed children peering out from behind their mothers’ sarees, men up to their knees in rice paddies,  ecstatic greetings from school children, all of a sudden finding yourself slap in the middle of a Hindu ceremony, and something inside you says ‘  Toto, we’re not in Kansas any more!’.

It is indeed a great feeling realising you are in fact, not in Kansas but somewhere unique and exciting. But then you are reminded that because this is not home, you will never completely understand what is happening beneath the surface. There have been reminders over the past few weeks that while we strive to understand the context in which we are working, we cannot fully understand the nature of the communities in which we are working. The recent bombs in Mumbai are a sobering reminder of a context wider still over which we have no control, and the events unfolding in Malawi remind me of how things can change in the blink of an eye. Change will come, but let’s hope it’s the change we are all hoping for.

Book of the week: ‘Civilization: The West and the Rest’ by Niall Ferguson – well worth a read!!!

Monsoon

The monsoon is here in all its glory, bringing a mixture of relief from the sweltering heat, and frustration at how difficult everything becomes in the rain. In ways, it is rain like in Ireland, especially the rain you get in Galway, but in other ways, it is nothing like it. In Ireland, the rain water largely drains away, not so in Kolkata. Yesterday morning, a few of us made it as far as Guthiyari Sharif on the train for a cultural celebration (which involved a few kids acting out a play in Bengali that involed one of them being a pig/goat, and another just standing against the wall being a tree – no idea what it was all about), only to have everyone come back home again as all the schools were closed. Even if the schools themselves were open, no children were attending. The trains were really quiet and the city itself was very quiet, I reckon everyone just goes to ground during the rain. The road between our house and Ballygunge was seriously flooded so there was nothing for it but to wade in and splash our way home. The water was above mid-calf deep, lord only knows what was floating in there, but at least my sturdy sandals stood up to the test. It was sightly comical but also not something I would choose to do every day. We were house bound the rest of the day, I cancelled all my meetings as getting about the city in the rain is next to impossible, taxis are either full or won’t stop, or try to rip you off even more than ever as they know you are desperate to get out of the rain. So everyone had a chilled out day, volunteers caught up on sleep which was much needed after a tiring first week.

It has been an incredibly busy week and there is so much to do over the next few weeks. GP activities have gotten off to a good start, and I’ve been very impressed with the level of engagement from volunteers. There are many activities coming up over the next few weeks as well as planning for GP week and meeting speakers, devleoping relationship with partners etc. While it can feel overwhelming at times, it is undboutedly the challenge that I needed and wanted. Managing my own workload and developing GP is in constant competition with managing relationships and supporting the volunteers; it is quite the juggling act but one that I immensely joy and to which I believe I am well suited. It is a learning curve for me, and it is a good feeling to realise how far I have come and how much I have learned over the last few years and recognising that such learning never ends. Kolkata undoubtedly has much still  to teach me.

The volunteers have all gone out so I am sitting here enjoying the relatively cool temperatures, listening to Bob Dylan and enjoying the warm after glow of two enormous bottles of Kingfisher. The city take it out of you, keeping up with the relentless pace and meeting the challenges of doing just about anything. There is truly no let-up. It is glorious and exhilarating and exhausting and frustraing all at once. But being here tuly feel like being alive. In the midst of embracing it all, questioning yourself constantly, supporting other people, doing your role justice, trying to take it all in, rembering to enjoy it, expanding your own learning, trying to understand the complexities of Kolkata, and wanting to try as much food as possible, it is important to sit back and take some time to spend in the company of Bob.

Shubra, founder of Vikramshila, spoke the volunteers on Thursday evening and some of the things she said have really stuck with me. She said that a good education gives your imagination wings, that it sets you free. She also said that none of us can change the world, and that change will not happen today or tomorrow but we should all believe that one day, change will happen and that the world will be a fairer place. In the meantime, we should all seek to have an impact in our own small way; if everyone in the world sought to have a positive impact in their own little space, the world at large would be a fairer and happier place. For me, that is why I am here. By encouraging and supporting other people to seek out change in their own way, I am contributing something to a fairer and more just world, albeit in a miniscule way. I was lucky enough to be born into a life that afforded me an education and boundless opportunity, a life that ultimately allowed me to be here. It was purely by chance that I was born to that life and not to another. My imagination was given wings by the life I was born to, while others all over the world never even have a chance to realise that they have an imagination. The monsoon rains will fall on Kolkata year in, year out, on the same people living the same struggle, and I will return to my life of opportunity where I have the luxury of dreaming and where all of this will be a memory and not a reality. So I will believe in change and advocate for change, because I feel I owe it to myself, the life I was born to, and to the millions who drew a shorter straw in life’s great lottery.

The circus is in town

Since my last post, I have moved house, acquired a diurect team of 11 volunteers and a wider team of 41 volunteers, sampled many lovely dishes and sweated my body weight.

Kolkata has definitnely drawn me in. It is hard to describe the constant movement, the insane traffic and noise levels and the marvellously organised chaos of the city. In a city of 15-17 million people, with an extra 4 million commuters coming into the city on a daily basis, every bit of space is occupied, every person is focused on their own mission and gettign where thy have to be, so pushing and shoving is a daily activity. At the same time, people manage to be gentle and friendly and help each other out. There is an excessive amount of staring, but  I have found that a smile goes a long way to diffuse these things.

I am now living in the famous Kalyan Guesthouse, run by the enigmatic Mr Nath, in the Golpark/Gariahat area of the city, about 10 minutes walk from Ballygunge station and around the corner from the bustling and chaotic Gariahat market where you can get anything from cutlery to towels to fruit to sarees and sandals. The house is grand well stocked with fans and a fridge which is the main thing! The communal area is a bit cozy for 13 people but we have made it nice with chairs and quotes, and maps and GP stuff on the walls. There are 5 bathrooms which is pretty good, I’m sharing with Carole and Olivia which is a pleasure so far. It’s a while since I’ve lived in such an intensely communal environment but I’m sure I’ll get used to it.

I’ve been lucky enough to visit the Sabuj Sangha schools at Taldi, Bethbeiria and Guthiari Sharif. The train journey was quite something, it truly is a scrum to get on and the trains don’t hang around so you have to hop up fairly lively or risk being left on the platform, not having the Indian knack for jumping onto a moving train. The schools are outside the city, along the railwayline, in impoverished, largely migrant communities. The buildings at Taldi and Bethbeiria are basic, the children often don’t have copy books, the rooms are small with 2 or 3 classes in each. These schools cater to children who cannot access mainstream education so in these centres they are brought up to a level where they can attend mainstream primary school. Having two white visitors was clearly a big treat for them, some dissolved into giggles, others hid in shyness, others waved and grinned mainiaclly and others just stared up with solemn black eyes. We had an impromptu dance from one class, and our meagre attempts to use some Bengali phrases resulted in much hilarity all around. The kids are just lovely, and the teachers keen and dedicated. They get paid about €30 per month but are clearly very invested in what they do.They truly seem to value the volunteers and were full of ideas as to how the volunteers could support them. it is basic stuff around numbers and letters but vital if these children are to have any hope of progressing with an education.

I will visit some of the DAS schools this week, these schools are based in a variety of communities that face varying challenges, from being based in communities living in the municipal dump to fishing communities and tribal minorities. It is truly inspiring the scope of work that these organisations are engaged in, their tireless work and dedication and their solid belief in change. I have met with staff from DAS and Sabuj Sangha and have been bowled over by their dedication and sheer professionalism. I am very lucky to have this chance to work with them this summer.

I have just about gotten to grips with navigating the city, it is far from easy as many things look the same. I managed to get lost last night with the volunteers in tow so that was slightly embaressing but they forgave me! Also managed to find tourism office successfully on my second attempt – the first attempt took over an hour of being pointed in 20 different directions. Autorickshaws are a great way to get around and there is no haggling involved as there often is with the taxis.

There is incredible amounts of development going on, the road out to the airport is endless appartment blocks in various stages of construction, shopping malls, business parks etc. But then, last night we were followed by about 5 street children, and we passed several groups of small children playing on the pavement totally naked, alongside their mother cooking over a small fire beside the mat that is their home. These children have no protection, some of them are all alone and have no one to care for them. They are deprived of their most basic needs and starved of love, attention and kindness. They are persistent and it is hard to know how to deal with them as my human nature riles against having to ignore a small child or be angry or dismissive of him or her. But I suppose, it is important to question why they are on the streets, why it is such a pervasive problem and what could be done about it. It has been hard for the volunteers to see all of this, the harshest side of Kolkata but reality is a very hard thing. Personally, while the children upset me, the old women and men begging and sleeping rough probably upset me equally. Ballygunge station, our local station, is full of people sleeping in the ticket office and on the platforms and that is their life, in that space, trying to stay alive whatever way possible. It seems for so many millions in this city, life is about existing and not actually living and at that, it is an unimaginable struggle even to exist.

Moving about with 13 white people, never mind with 40 white people, does feel a little like being part of a weird lumbering circus. We stand out a mile and, in fairness, must look hilarious with our big red faces and attempts at wearing Indian clothes. When we were in the station this morning, all of us packed onto the platform, there were literally about 10 people just lined up staring at us, not to mention others who snuck in the occasional sidelong glance. I know this is not rude, it’s just that we look so different and are hard not to notice. But it does feel like being a circus act newly arrived in a small parochial Irish town. It’s not so bad when we are in pairs or on my own, and dressing in salwar kameez definitely gets you less attention than Western clothes.

Might stroll out to Tinnys in a bit and get some food, trying to have something different every night so I figure out exactly what is extra good. it is very hot, around 36 degrees I’d say, and very humid. So there is epic amounts of sweat and resulting sweat rashes. I’m putting away 3-5 litres of water per day quite happily plus the odd dioralyte and it never really feels like enough. It is hot hot hot at night but I think I’m getting used to it….I hope! I suppose being constantly covered in a layer of sweat and grime will become normal after a while. There is about a minute of relief after a shower but then the sweat is back.

Speaking of Tinnys, we took the gang there on their first night. I wrote down the order and was quite perplexed when multiple plates of chicken kormas and veg pulao rice started to appear, given that I had ordered 1 of each of these. Soon figured out that Tinny had taken my 1 for a 7, so was going to present 13 of us with about 20 plates of rice, 7 naan bread, 7 kormas, 7 tikka masalas, 7 aloo dopiaza and 7 dahls!!! Luckily we figured this out and Tinny took it in very good humour. Doubt he’ll be hiring me as a waitress any time soon though…..

First impressions

So here I sit, under a fan, sweating away happily, sticky hands and frizzy hair and a head-full of plans for the next few days, let alone the next few weeks.

Arrived in this vibrant city on Wednesday afternoon. Quite the journey it was too. Met the gang at Dublin airport and headed off, happy enough about not sitting together on the plane given the close proximity in which we will all be living over the next 3 months. All went relatively smoothly through Heathrow, flight was long but pretty comfortable. Fun and games in Mumbai airport when three bags didn’t turn up (not mine for a change!!) and when they couldn’t find my name on the list at the transfer desk. This happened to three of us so we all piled onto a bus to go to ‘domestic aiport’…this was akin to driving through a weird desolate building site with loads of barbed wire. Also provided a first glimpse of the poverty gap, with slums coming right down to the airport boundaries. Anyway, to cut a long story short, we made our onward flight with about 5 minutes to spare and arrived to a balmy 36 degrees in Kolkata. Cathal met us at the airport and escorted us to our new pad, was kind of like 6 ducklings following the knowledgable mother duck!! The place is very homely and comfortable, and the bext but being there are fans in each room!! Weird that we can’t unpack as we will all move to our permanent accomodation next Wednesday.

The journey from the airport was sweaty and noisy, beeping horns every second.  The traffic is truly insane and there were about 20,000 near misses (well, it felt like that anyway!). And all the time with the beeping. Always beeping!! But we were all grinning away to ourselves, relishing that first taste of a new place, the sights and sounds that tell you you are most definitely not in Kansas any more!

Yesterday we went through the arduous task of acquiring sim cards, took about an hour and four forms and copies of visas etc. Then went and visited accomodation and wandered around what will be our local area and the train station etc. The house is grand, fairly spacious, plenty of bathrooms, fan in every room. It’s all very basic but grand, scope for fashioning various storage devices!  Had lunch courtesy of a very charismatic individual named Tinny who fed us up an Indian feast and insisted on having our photos taken so we could be in his next book!! Tinny’s is right around the corner from where I will be living so I have a feeling he will feature majorly in my summer. Also saw my first rat on this street, more like a cat than a rat really. Lovely. After rickshawing it home (again, about 5,000 incidents where i thought loss of limb was inevitable) we flaked out and then were introduced to the famous egg roll, staple street food of Kolkata. Delicious but surely awfully bad for your arteries!! Today is mainly given over to meetings and planning and then more yummy food tonight 😉

So first impressions of Kolkata. It is of course impossible to pin down but one word stands out; life. Life happening all around you, constant movement and activity, humanity at its most intense and glorious. Colorful saris and vegetable stalls and brightly painted rickshaws and buses, people moving constantly going about their daily business. The darker side if there of course, rubbish and mangy dogs, young girls sorting through piles of rubbish, old women begging, children begging,  men breaking stones in the impossible heat, rickshaws hand-drwan by gaunt looking men. But it all just feels like part of the fabric of the city.  I have only seen a smidgen of what is to come, and in my role I know I will see first hand great wealth and great deprivation, will see the complexities of a rapidly developing India. There is Subway and Dominoes and Marks and Spencers, alongside streetstalls selling sweet and milky chai (yum!), egg rolls and rice and roadside stallholders that will do your washing and ironing for you!! There is a warmth and an energy, and an easygoing kindness in the people. I most definitely feel that I have only had the first tiny taste of what is to come.

One week to go…..

So with one week to go until departure for Kolkata, I thought I might venture into the big bad world of blogging. I’ve never been entirely sure of the practice, always suspected it may sniff of narcisism (although no more than social newtworking). But it may also be a way to avoid the epically long emails and to put more structure on my writing this summer. The main purpose of this blog is to (attempt) to write regularly about whatever exploits may unfold over the course of this summer working as development coordinator with Suas Educational Development. It’s sure to be a sweaty, busy, hecticn unpredictable and unforgettable summer.

So it may not be the sexiest or snazziest blog you will ever read, but hopefully it will provide some entertainment and some sort of an insight into the life I will be leading in Kolkata.

One week to go, to-do list growing ever longer, rucksack still stuffed in the back of wardrobe, skin recoiling at the thought of the mosquito bites to come, stomach hoping it will not be forever put off my beloved Indian cuisine, some goodbyes already said, more to come. This immeadiate pre-departure stage is always a whirlwind between getting everything done, saying goodbyes, tying up loose ends and mentally and emotionally preparing for the onslaught of the senses that comes with arriving in a brand new place. Nothing quite compares with that feeling where you have stepped off the plane, where you are no longer whiling away the hours in an airport, or struggling to get some sleep while the person beside you snores away happily, or trawling through the crap selection of inflight movies, that moment where you step onto the tarmac and the sticky air tells you, you are here, you have arrived. From that moment on, every sight, smell and sound reminds you that you are somewhere totally unfamiliar. Adapt or be damned. And from that moment on, you are anticipating the day when it no longer feels unfamiliar, when  you have entered that wonderful phase of feeling at home thousands of miles away from your birthplace.

India will be a whole new experience for me, and one that I hope will deepen my understanding of the challenges of development and social inequality. It is a fantastic opportunity to put what I learned during the Masters into practice, to apply the learning and theory to better understand the situation in which millions find themselves every day. I would hope not to simply observe, not to peer upon other peoples’ misery and then flee back to my comfortable global north life; instead I would hope to strive to understand my role in it all, and encourage those around me to do the same.

If I’m honest, a part of me wishes I was about to board a plane bound for Africa. The African continent has become the place by which I judge all other places. This is a far from perfect approach, of this I am aware, but I cannot help but wish I knew I would soon be washing red dust out of my hair every day, squashing into a comically overcrowded minibus, dancing  (or attempting to dance) sweatily to loud Zambian pop from blown out speakers, getting more nsima on my hands than in my mouth, watching the sun set behind an accacia tree….I could go on! Anywhere I have been in Africa has moved in and taken up permanent residence in my heart and it is hard to anticipate anywhere else challenging that position. But that is fine. To be honest, I like it that way. India will bring a whole new set of challenges, frustrations and wonders and no doubt India will find it’s own way to become a part of me. I am greatly looking forward to sharing the anticipation, excitment, apprehension, challenges and triumphs with the fantastic people with whom I will be lucky enough to spend this summer.

Ar aghaidh linn!!!