Change of scenery

Some of you know I haven't been feeling well the past couple of days. Everyone here seems to think it's because of the heat. I've decided the best plan is for me to travel back to the U.S. and finish my project from there. I land in San Francisco, where I'll be for the rest of the summer, on Sunday. I will keep everyone posted on how things shape up for Nishtha, a group I'm sad to leave early. Thanks for reading my updates!

Another day at the office

Sorry for the limited posts this week! I haven’t had much to write about, because this has been a pretty standard work week – spending most days at the office, researching and writing. I suppose “standard” is a relative term, since, in this office, there are only three other people who speak English and by late afternoon, a man somewhere in town gets on a megaphone and starts talking about the local municipal elections. Loudly.

On the bright side, I think we are making progress on a business plan and addressing some of the issues Nishtha will have to consider when launching and running its business. Several of you have connected me to people who can provide us with guidance, and I truly appreciate it!

I’m hoping to get out and take a walk around town today, so may have more to share later!

Kolkata!

Saturday’s intense rain forced us to delay our Kolkata trip one day, so this afternoon, Mimi and Manami came to pick me up just after lunch, in two bicycle rickshaws. I joined Manami, and off we went…very, very slowly. I remembered that the trip into Kolkata by car takes about an hour, and started to get a bit nervous. After a few minutes I turned to Manami and asked casually, “so he is going to pedal us all the way in to the city?” She looked at me for three seconds and burst out laughing. “Yes, Alexis, we’re starting our journey now, and by tomorrow night we will be there!” Turns out we were only taking the rickshaw to the main road, where we could catch an auto, which we typically ride, into the city.

Once we hit the outskirts of Kolkata, traffic really picked up and horns were blaring. My new surroundings reminded me a bit of Monrovia: slightly dingy buildings with lots of concrete and metal. However, as we got further in, the streets widened and many were tree-lined. Drivers bent to the rules, obeying traffic lights and rights of way. I saw a British influence in both the large rotaries with broad boulevards stemming from them, and the narrow, curving streets off of the main thoroughfares.

After a couple of auto rides and a quick cab trip, Manami and I were standing in front of Victoria Memorial Hall, a huge structure built by the British, surrounded by manicured gardens and a few shallow pools. Inside is a museum, and we strolled quickly through, enjoying the cool air and escape from the sun. After that, we took a carriage ride down a few wide, leafy boulevards, and then hopped into another cab to take us to a neighborhood with lots of street vendors. As soon as we got out of the cab, I knew it would be sensory overload. Sari fabric, long kurta tops, and scarves in a range of colors and patterns were everywhere. You could also buy your fill of cheap accessories, plastic containers, and underwear (staples in marketplaces the world over). This was my equivalent of a department store, so I couldn’t do much more than simply take it all in.

Following that, we found a modern grocery store where I picked up some of my personal staples here: peanut butter, jelly, and toilet paper. The food I’m prepared is really quite good, but occasionally I need a bit more, which is where the PB&J comes in. When I learned I wouldn’t be able to find TP in my village, I decided to spring for a few rolls.

Despite my excitement over the supermarket, the most exciting part of the night was one part of our ride home. Our second auto ride, before we’d catch our final auto back to Baruipur, was a 15-minute musical extravaganza. Our driver had installed a CD player and flashing, multi-colored lights inside his vehicle. Cruising through Kolkata’s streets with Indian music blaring transformed a chaotic, choppy ride into a coordinated dance party through ever-busy streets.

The rain

It rained yesterday, and I woke up in the middle of the night to still more rain pouring down, and a cool breeze wafting through the window. I almost needed a sheet! I turned to look at the thermometer on my alarm clock and it read 87.5 degrees. I smiled. A cold front just may be settling in.

Hope

I’ve spent a few days this week visiting different villages that Nishtha supports in a number of ways. With each site visit, and each ride I take through the countryside, I’m amazed all over again by the resilience and hope of people in the developing world.

On Monday, I was shepherded in and out of people’s homes, meeting families whose daughters are able to attend secondary school with support from Nishtha. Most homes were one-room dwellings with a bed and limited cross-ventilation. Larger homes often have a porch or side kitchen where women cook; other families simply cook outside. It is abundantly clear that these families have few material things, yet at each home I was invited to sit down and out of nowhere came fruit or juice for me to enjoy. The smaller children at each house were likely to be wearing the least amount of clothing – maybe a pair of shorts – and almost all were barefoot. The fact that their daughters can go to school means the world to these parents, who, in the spirit of parents everywhere, want their children to do and see and achieve more than they have been able.

Later in the day, I met with the girls themselves, about 50 students in the 5th – 8th grades, all wearing their blue and white school uniforms. Again, I am given a chair, while everyone else crams onto the porch to sit around me. After a little Q&A – which doesn’t go on for too long, I am told, because girls are not accustomed to being asked their opinion – I am treated to dance performances coordinated to music from a Bengali film. When given the opportunity to express themselves on their terms, these girls truly shine.

Yesterday, I met a group of girls in a village outside of Baruipur who use drama to inform their peers and the community about social issues relevant to women and girls. Before the performance, I had the chance to speak with many of the students’ mothers, a very poised and determined group of women who are clearly happy that their daughters are benefitting from a good education. Not content to simply say hello, the mothers welcomed me with flowers and a traditional greeting.

Exiting the schoolhouse, I wondered where the show would take place, and was led to a homemade stage, elevated about 4 feet off the ground. A crowd of about 40 people had gathered to watch the show. The first performers were girls doing traditional Bengali dances in lovely costumes. After a short break, the girls put on two plays – one about child marriage, and the second about relationships and respect. For an open-air theater, this was a fairly professional production, with costumes, props, and memorized scripts. It was refreshing to see these girls take such an active role in combating some of the social pressures that women and girls face here – and doing so with great energy and humor.

Falling into a routine

Today has been one of the quieter days I’ve had here at Nishtha. No site visits were scheduled, so I began working on a potential business plan for the craft business, and realized just how much work will go into this effort! My makeshift office is set up in a spare room next to my bedroom, and I enjoy it because it has the best breeze on the third floor. I share the office with a statue of an Indian goddess, at the foot of which the women light incense each morning.

It’s amazing how little time it takes to establish a routine in a new place. Each morning I get up around 7:30 or 8 and take the coldest shower of the day. Breakfast is served once I’m dressed, and I typically take off with Mimi or Monami, and our driver Bishu, in a small “auto” that runs on three wheels and reminds me of a ride at Whalom Park (I mean no disrespect, as this auto gets us everywhere we need to be, particularly down the narrow brick paths of villages outside of Baruipur). We return in early afternoon for lunch – my favorite meal, because it usually involves many small dishes, including a really tasty cooked pumpkin. Sometimes we make another site visit to meet girls and families that Nishtha supports, and other times I’m left to do some research or work in my office. Dinner is usually served around 7, which is when the staff makes my bed and sets up my mosquito net. Following dinner – usually the third meal at which I’ve consumed multiple carbs in one sitting – I take a fairly cool shower and hunker down for the night. I try to keep the post-shower sweating to a minimum (as if I have any control) by turning on two fans and reading the Kindle until I fall asleep.

Extremes

Today was a day of extremes. Just a few hours apart, I sat with a group of older women (respectfully called “grannies”) facing extreme difficulty, and then adolescent girls, about to graduate from high school, with an eye toward a hopeful future.

In the morning, Mimi and I went to visit the grannies. Throughout their lives, these women worked in the fields to support their families and did not have the opportunity to go to school. The grannies, in their 60s and 70s, are worn out from years of physical labor and child-rearing, and many have medical issues that prevent them from working any longer. For years, Nishtha had received funding which allowed it to provide the grannies with food, medical care, clothing, and basic home repairs. Recently, the grant was not renewed, leaving many of the grannies without support of any kind. It’s not hard to understand why donors do not focus on the elderly; it is easier to demonstrate the sustained impact of grants for younger generations. Unfortunately, without funds coming in, the grannies own families are removing them from their homes because they no longer “add value” and are now officially a drain on already-strapped households. As I listened to their stories, I saw some women crying, and before I left, each one came up to me to clasp my hands and look at me searchingly. They need very little, but unfortunately have no way to get it. According to Nishtha, it requires $12,000 annually to support its program for 80 grannies in the Baruipur area, or roughly $144 per participant, per month.

Later on, I joined a meeting of girls who had just finished the 12th grade and have been active participants in Nishtha’s girls’ empowerment program. Following a story about a child bride who had been abused and abandoned by her husband, and reluctantly accepted back into her family, the girls had a very thoughtful discussion about how this girl’s story might have turned out more positively. Worlds like “education,” “training,” “support,” and “love,” came up again and again, and many of the participants saw opportunities in this tale to enlighten communities about the position of women in Indian society. It was clear that years of education and leadership training had positively impacted the group members, expressed in their confidence and self-possession. It is likely these girls will soon be change agents in Indian society, empowering other young women and painting for themselves a more positive future than their mothers may have dared.

India's got talent

Over the past two days, I have made a lot of site visits with Monami, meeting women and girls who are earning income through their work as artisans, as well as young girls and boys receiving child care when they’re not in school. At each stop, I am welcomed very warmly, given a chair and a fan, and for the first few minutes, all eyes are on me. If I’m with girls or children, the woman in charge at the site inevitably asks them to sing and dance for me. I’m pretty sure this is a typical way to welcome guests, and it’s lovely. There are usually a handful of great dancers and singers who are eager to demonstrate their talents. I’ve watched some beautiful dances and heard renditions of traditional Bengali songs, along with Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and the ABCs.

However, at the individual level, most of the girls I meet don’t really want to stand up and put themselves on display. They look slightly pained as they work their way through a folk song or try to remember dance steps. As I look at them with the most encouraging expression I can offer, I think, “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to do this either. Especially for some random guest I know nothing about, who gets to use the only fan in the house!” One group turned the tables yesterday, when, after performing, invited me to join a game that required the loser to get into the middle of the circle and dance or sing. Guess who lost first? Yes, me. I tried putting my face in my hands, but they weren’t dissuaded from pulling me up. Luckily, they were content with a simple twirl and smile.

Going to the source

I will admit that despite reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma and watching Food, Inc., I still don’t give nearly enough thought to where my food comes from. I don’t often read the labels on my clothes, nor do I think much about who might have made them.

This morning, I joined Mimi and Monami to visit a group of teen girls who embroider silk saris with detailed beading. It takes about one week to produce a sari, and each girl earns about $3.50 per sari, despite the fact that they are sold for nearly 20 times that amount. These girls all attend school, but continue to embroider because it contributes (to a small degree) to the wage earning in their families. Occasionally they miss school if there is a pressing deadline or order.

This afternoon, Mimi and I went out to see some women who work on a small organic gourd farm. We also met with families who pick various seasonal fruit, including mangoes and lychees. For some reason, watching people climb trees, fill baskets with fresh lychees, and then organize them into bunches really struck a chord. I mean, the last time I encountered a lychee I think it was wedged onto a martini glass. I had no concept of how it had arrived there. And then to sample a fresh lychee right from a farmer in India? Incredible!

Baruipur is known for its fruit crop, which includes mangoes, pineapple, star apples, jackfruit and palm fruit. It turns out that I’m here during prime mango season! If I were a true business school student, I would figure out how to export them to the U.S., because they’re fantastic – really fresh and just perfect.

Sights and sounds

The internet was down last night, so here's my post from yesterday...

Today was the first time I’d been out in Baruipur during the day. It seems to be an interesting hybrid of city and village. As I mentioned earlier, there is a lot of activity on the streets, and the pace is intensified by cars, trucks, and scooters attempting to be as speedy as possible on Baruipur’s one lane roads. We passed a lot of storefronts and food stands, with different and equally enticing scents wafting out of each. During the summer, the streets are busiest in the morning and again in late afternoon into evening. Many people try to avoid peak temperatures in the afternoon, and those that must be out use umbrellas or wear scarves on their heads to protect from the sun. Many particularly talented people were riding bikes and holding umbrellas, which is definitely beyond my skill level.

As quickly as you enter the more frenetic streets of Baruipur, you can escape them, and today we found ourselves calming driving past lychee and guava trees and stirring up dust on the partially paved paths. Sometimes there are open drainage systems on the side of the road, yet there is often greenery dotting the route and marking entryways to homes. I tend to get some stares (I haven’t seen another Western face here yet), but most people simply seem to be curious. Everyone is incredibly welcoming; I joined Mimi at a weekly women’s meeting today, and was honored with a chair (everyone else sits on the floor) as well as fresh fruit and juice. I must have been sweating ridiculously, because women would take turns cooling me with homemade fans. The children there were a bit more curious than the women, and at the end of the meeting, a silent crowd formed around me. Even though I knew no one was speaking because of the language barrier, it was a little unnerving to be observed at close range without any verbal exchange!

On the work front, it seems as though my project will involve working with Monami to help the organization – Nishtha – launch a social enterprise. There is a lot to be done in order to develop a homemade craft business and introduce it to western markets – and it will take far more than the four weeks I have here – but I’m hoping I can help get Nishtha on a path to achieve its financial and social goals. I’ve already received a couple of tips from blog readers on how to do this, and am open to more!

Heat

There is no other word on my mind right now but heat. I woke up sweating, despite two fans in my room, took another shower, and began grumbling to myself about the light pants and loose top I would have to wear – no summer skirt and tank top for me. Throughout the day, a quick look at my clothing – and how damp it was – would indicate exactly how hot I was. Despite the heat, the morning was quite nice. After breakfast I had a little time to read, and then Mimi and Monami told me about their work with the organization’s education and artisan training programs. Then, I was invited to join a staff meeting where I introduced myself and learned the names of some of the group’s core staff. To conclude the meeting, I received a spot of color on my forehead and was asked to light a candle celebrating our friendship and work together. The women threw small flowers at me as I lit the candle, and then sang a traditional song.

I spent more time in the afternoon with Monami, learning about her plans to find a western market in which to sell the goods produced by the group’s 90 female artisans. She believes the local market is saturated, and that they key to their success lies outside India. I saw many of the home goods – including cloth placemats, jute and batik cushion covers, and woven bed covers – that the women produce.

After lunch, Monami instructed me to “take a few hours rest,” since I had just arrived and am still adjusting to the heat (which peaked at 100 degrees, according to my travel alarm clock). I heeded her advice, and spent a couple hours reading and napping underneath my mosquito net. I awoke to a plate of watermelon and mango, and then met Monami to travel through town on a motorized rickshaw, to buy more bottled water and see some of marketplaces. Despite the fact that it was evening and streetlights are limited, lots of people were out – on foot, on bike, and in cars – going to shops and running errands.

I’m told it will be quite hot throughout my stay here, which I knew it would be, although hot really takes on new meaning when you’re living it, day in and day out. Monami says I will adjust, although I should still plan on taking rest tomorrow, so I don’t overdo it. I imagine I won’t put up much of a fight.

A New Adventure

I landed in India three and a half hours ago. As soon as I stepped off the plane and onto the tarmac, and felt the intense heat and humidity, the weight of my month long adventure hit. Here I am. So far, the scent of the air in Kolkata and surrounding towns is very similar to that in Liberia. Something is burning – somewhere, everywhere, hard to tell – and the air is thick with fumes and smog. Without air conditioning to temper the 95 degree heat (at night!), I was sweating again as soon as I stepped out of the shower.

I’m living in the guesthouse of the non-profit organization that is hosting me. It will be nice to see the entire facility in daylight, but what I could see looked lovely. Lots of trees and flowers give it an enclosed feeling, despite being less than an hour outside of congested Kolkata. Tomorrow I’ll have breakfast at 9 and then join the staff for its morning meeting. The women who picked me up at the airport are going to introduce me around and get me started on whichever project I work on for the organization dedicated to empowering women and girls.

Mimi and Manami seem great already – upon picking me up from the airport they asked if I needed dinner – and promptly took me to McDonald’s. In contrast, the rest of my meals will be prepared by Indian staff at the organization, and having been informed of the breakfast menu, I’m already quite excited. The ride from the airport out to Baruipur is one I won’t forget for some time – our driver wove aggressively in and out of traffic, gaining an inch here and there, honking incessantly (each honk sending a different message, from “be careful bike rider, I’m right behind you” to “move over bus, I’m trying to pass you”). I think it’s fortunate that, jet lag setting in, I kept dozing off.

The power just cut at the guesthouse – I’m grateful for the book light I brought, and for the slight breeze coming in through the window. It smells a bit like rain, which would be really welcome right now…