Home Sweet Home...

First of all, I’m going to just do shoutouts because it’s been so long since I’ve updated this thing!

A BIG one to Shannon cuz I forgot her birthday!!!!
Sonia & Ravi – who are the proud parents of a Miss Shreya Kanani!!!
Naren Uncle & Alka Aunti – who called a while back!
Jenn – who called and celebrated a birthday a few weeks ago!
Alka Auntie, Praful Uncle, Nushin, Kruti, Farah, and Roxana – who celebrated or are celebrating birthdays!!!
Seema B – who called a few days back!

Next, I am finally home. It’s really nice to just be home! But everyone has been complaining that my blog has not been exciting and I never update it and yadda yadda yadda. The thing is, my access to Internet has been so rare and updating the blog tends to take a while. At SEWA Rural there was one dial-up computer proxied with 25 other computers!!! So you can guess how fast that was! Added to that, whenever the power went out or the fax machine used, the connection was stopped. It was quite frustrating!

SEWA Rural was…awesome. Just amazing. It was started 25 years ago by a small group of doctors in a tent in a rural area called Jhagadhia. It has grown to provide service to scores of neighbouring villages. It’s really quite impressive.

For the first week, I was mainly working in the computer labs. Sounds boring I know, but I asked Lata Masi where she needed help the most and she said with the computers and organizing databases. As much as I would rather be actually having contact with people, it’s really comforting to know that all these years in Actuarial Science haven’t rendered me as useless to the developing world as I thought. I mean, I always liked my job, loved math and stats, but I never saw it as being used in ways to help the disadvantaged. I always saw my volunteer work as being disjoint from my education & career. It’s awesome to realize that it’s not. It’s been so great to see that the field and path I have chosen to take over the next few years does not have to be separate from where my heart lies. Whatever skills I acquire, wherever I work, can be applied somewhere, somehow, and in some way to help someone.

SEWA Rural is looking into creating insurance policies for home deliveries since they discovered only about 20% of women give birth in a hospital in the Jhagadhia area. This is partly to blame for the high infant mortality rate. Since so many women are giving birth at home, and can’t afford to go to the hospital when complications arise, an insurance policy for this would be an excellent idea. SEWA Rural also holds classes in midwifery in order to train many of the elder village women about proper childbirthing. The training is a week long and I attended a good portion of it. The daibens (midwives) were amazing. The whole time I was just in awe at how these uneducated, often illiterate women retained such a vast amount of knowledge. They are, in essence, doing the job of a doctor. I mean, I was even having trouble remembering the stuff they taught, but these women would think of the most creative ways of remembering. Garbas, or songs, or skits were made up in order to remember certain things to do, for example, which complications require taking the woman in labour to the hospital. It was amazing! It was also shocking to see how open and liberal they were with sex education. SEWA Rural as a whole is really good that way – they don’t shy away from things just because they are taboo.

More and more I find that it is the upper/middle class that is the most regressive while the lower class is becoming more and more progressive. For example, a friend here told me about someone in her family, a woman, who had decided not to go past the 12th standard in school. She had learned that as a middle-class Indian woman, she was supposed to get a university degree only to get a good husband. Once she was married, she was going to stay at home anyways, so she may as well save her time and money since she wasn’t going to use the education anyways. There’s such an element of sadness in that decision but it’s the truth. Contrast this with the daisbens who go through so much – see so much death and destruction, and have so many reasons to cry and grieve. But they are exceptionally strong woman, and recognize that their tears won’t help anything. They keep themselves in the mindset of having a job to do, and let nothing, not even the direst of circumstances, take away from that. My friend made the comment that in a lot of ways, these poorer, illiterate women are one hundred times more empowered than this middle-class family member. And it’s true – in the big bid for feminism in today’s world, we have often failed to see the immense strength of some of the poorest women. And we’ve been under the impression that India today is this progressive culture, when it’s really the lower class that is moving the wheels forward while the middle and upper class are regressing more than anything else.

The prime example of this are these call centers that have taken over India’s job market. One of the saddest things I read in India was an article interviewing kids in India about what they wanted to be when they grow up, and one of the responses (by the son of a farmer) was “I don’t know. I don’t have any dreams.” But sadder than that was the response of a girl from a middle-class family in Bombay who dreamed of working in a call center. Because as much as people rave about the call center industry booming in India, what few people know is that the workers are trained to speak in American/British accents, they have to read American/UK newspapers so they can make small talk with the caller, they are under strict instructions not to let the caller know they are really based in India and not in the Midwest somewhere. They take on American names and as Arundhati Roy says in “Power Politics,” “Sushma becomes Susie, Govind becomes Jerry, Advani becomes Andy…actually it’s worse. Sushma becomes Mary. Govind becomes David. Perhaps Advani becomes Ulysses.” It’s an entirely racist and discriminatory practice that robs people of their true identities.

Sapana let me listen in on one of her tape-recorded focus groups. The focus group is trying to document the cycle of costs and expenses for these rural women. All the women were illiterate and thus didn’t know the names of the months. So instead they told the time of year by things like harvesting crops, cutting grass, Diwali, Holi, etc. The focus group leader then drew a picture to symbolize the month. It was really neat to hear these women interact and answer the questions. Things that would seem straightforward (like naming the months) take a long time to establish. Yet after that was done, the women knew exactly how much money they had spent on what during which timespan – a question that would take me a while to answer.

Sapana was also telling me a few stories that she had heard while hear. One was about this mentally-ill girl that was pregnant for the third time. SEWA Rural is structured so that there is someone who lives in the village who keeps track of pregnancies, and reports to a Setu, who is in charge of a group of villages. So they learned that this woman was pregnant and the father of the girl had buried the two previous babies alive. SEWA Rural told them they would take this third baby and not to murder it when it was born. So afterwards, they brought the baby to the hospital, and the father consented to having the girl’s tubes tied (in India you need your father or husband’s consent to do things like having tubes tied or even just getting an HIV/AIDS blood test!)

While with the daibens I got to see a baby being born! CRAZY! It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen. As Namu puts it, it’s the best contraceptive ever. If I have ever doubted adopting kids, this experience confirmed it. The woman was not on any medication or epideral. The nurse looked like she was yanking the head of the baby although I was told it was for support. None of the woman’s family was with her and there was like 20 of us all watching. I felt so bad for her! I almost fainted…left the room after the umbilical cord was cut and missed the placenta coming out. Also with the daiben training, they have this time period where they share stories about their past birthing experiences. Some of them were good, others referred people to hospitals. One woman said she “dako marva”d which is basically pushing the baby in the mother’s stomach to induce labour, which is damaging to the baby. The dai said she knew it was wrong but she was so used to doing it that it was hard to change. Ordinarily, dais come to deliver babies often intoxicated and smoking, and dako marva is how they traditionally get babies out. With SEWA Rural’s training, they learn what is unhealthy for the baby and what isn’t. From simple things like washing hands before delivery to pretty difficult things like cutting the umbilical cord – it’s a large amount of information to process, especially when a lot of it is foreign to them. SEWA Rural gives them a kit with things like gauze, a knife, gloves, etc. to help them during the delivery. The gloves were funny because while practicing, a lot of them were having trouble putting them on. They often couldn’t figure out which glove was for which hand, because most of the women had never even seen gloves before. And yet, these same women can deliver a baby safely and with competence. It’s truly amazing.

I also got a chance to go to an Arugyamela (sp?) which is basically a health session held in the village. They inform women on healthy deliveries, proper precautions and necessary arrangements to make before the due date. The Setus put on nataks (skits) to keep the interest of the women — they were really funny and so informative!!! Usually it is just the women and children, the men are off to the side or drunk.

I went into the field for a focus group with Sapana once as well. Basically the group talks about what times are most expensive, how they afford things, what sicknesses are problems during which periods of time, school for kids, etc. It was at night, in the middle of nowhere and I recorded a good portion of it. One woman talked about only making 25 rupees a day. Another talked of how she didn’t want to keep a record of the expenses for things she needed because she wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

Sapana was telling me of a focus group a few days before that where a woman bribed a doctor to tell her the sex of the baby at four months (it is illegal to tell the parents the sex of the baby before it is born in India because too many people were aborting girls). When the woman found out it was a girl, she aborted it. The next time she was pregnant, a private doctor told her it was a girl again. But SEWA Rural said they would take the baby and not to abort it. The baby ended up being a boy. This begs the question whether it was an honest mistake or if he was doing it to profit off of the family. Most of the time if a mother/family is bribing a doctor to reveal the sex, they plan to abort it if it’s a girl. A doctor can collect more money by just saying it’s a girl and then collecting money for the abortion too. It’s so sad. You hear of families who spend weeks, months, even years, saving for private doctors for home deliveries. These doctors basically just give the woman something for the pain and an IV, and then leave, charging exorbitant amounts for simple tasks. Private doctors in India really are profiting off of the poor. Not all of them are ill-intentioned, but a good portion of them are.

On my last day there was a training session for industry workers. They were all male and the trainers were all female – so I was quite surprised when they were extremely attentive. Sapana led an HIV/AIDS training session and they were really openly talking about sex. It was really amazing.

I led a week of classes in the tutorial center. It was Diwali vacation so it was just the children of the staff. We just played math/logic games and did some crafts but it was really difficult because they ranged in age from nursery to 9th standard. It was fun though.

I must say again, that SEWA Rural just impresses me. Anil Masa and Lata Masi are two of the most incredible people I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, and of calling family. I am in constant awe of how they built this place from the ground up. I can’t get over it. And they continue to find the reasons why there are so many problems and then search for ways to fix it. For example, the infant mortality rate was high, and they looked into the causes. When they learned that a large percentage of births are at home, they started the midwife training classes. In all the volunteer organizations I have worked with, I think SEWA Rural is the only one that treats the wound with one hand while trying to determine the causes for that wound with the other. It’s only with both hands that any real change can be made.

I have said repeatedly to people that I don’t love India, but I don’t hate it either. I’m inexplicably neutral. I found myself a few days before I left, half wishing I wasn’t and half glad to be going home. I spent a good part of the last ten weeks thinking of all the things I will miss from home – peanut butter, apple juice, showers, drinking water, etc. I’ve only now started to realize what I will miss in India. I’ll miss the way everyone treats you like family, regardless of when or how they met you. I’ll miss strange Indian idiosyncrasies like everything being closed in the afternoon for the midday nap. I’ll miss rickshaw rides. I’ll miss the sound of kids calling me Reshma Didi. I’ll miss drunk dadis. I’ll miss grabbing paw bhaji or pani puri off the street for Rs10 (although I won’t miss getting sick afterwards). I’ll miss cows and camels wandering on the sides of roads. I’ll miss the stifling heat. I’ll miss the crowded bus rides to and from Jhagadhia. I’ll miss Parle-G. I’ll miss the random firecrackers, singing, the 5:30 prayer at the mosque nearby and other random disturbances throughout the night. I’ll miss the way everyone crowds around digital cameras because they’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll miss being able to walk literally five steps before you are surrounded by a million and one fruit and vegetable vendors. I will miss India. And I never thought I’d say that.

It’s a little upsetting that I thought India would be an intensely spiritual experience. Perhaps it was this expectation that made the trip lacking so much of a spiritual aspect. Perhaps it was a sign of my own unreadiness. Perhaps the abuse I witnessed at Goraj overshadowed everything else. I’ve often questioned if I regretted my coming to India, or at least going to Goraj. I don’t. Goraj made me lose a lot of faith in organizations that appear to be caring and helping communites but then foster abusive and harmful practices. I was quite miserable there. But the reality that I may have made a small difference to the kids there, however small (indeed, miniscule) made the time there worthwhile. And the old saying, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” has a large element of truth to it. My experience there, be it good or bad, had a positive effect on my Self. I went back there the day I left to see the kids and they were so excited. I asked Sonal if Neema Masi still hits them and she does. I was unable to talk to Pradipbhai and ask him why nothing is changed, although I doubt it would have made much of a difference. Anita’s malaria is gone but she has lost the hearing in one of her ears for some unknown reason.

I feel guilty about leaving the social work to travel, but the recharge did me a lot of good. I also feel like I didn’t always put 100% into my work. There were days, both in South Africa and India, that I really just missed home and the people, and I was just completely useless I think, especially near the end. In South Africa, I really didn’t feel like I was working, or indeed, if I was helping or facilitating change. And I kept telling myself that in India, I would have the freedom to do more. But when I got here, I really began to think of all the work we did in South Africa. I was part of a truly amazing movement. I think I felt that because I was in the same place for a long time. In South Africa, I felt like an integral part of an awesome organization. In India, especially in Jhagadhia, I felt like more of an observer. I don’t feel like I contributed very much there, but I learned more in three weeks at SEWA Rural than I think I did my entire time away. I think I would have felt more a part of SEWA Rural if I had stayed longer or gone there instead of Goraj.

I find myself wondering where the time went, and indeed, how I made it through it all. I missed home a lot. I am excited about going to New York, mainly because I think I have gained an appreciation for my job and the education opportunites that I didn’t have before I left. I am also looking forward to volunteering in NY. The last six months I have been around some of the best, most caring, supportive, compassionate, determined, hard-working, dedicated…people I have ever known. I have exposed to people who have devoted their whole lives to a cause instead of a mere six months. I’ve learned how to interact with different kinds of people in so many different situations, across all kinds of obstacles.

When asked whether I liked India or South Africa better, I’d really have to say South Africa (sorry mom and dad!). There was a comfort in being around only Indian people, but there was a certain loss as well. Being raised in Canada, I am used to diversity, and being only around Indian people (that I usually had never met before) was a little too much for me. I like all types of cultures and all kinds of people and South Africa offered that. I found the people in South Africa to be more accepting. People in India were always welcoming but I often found myself wondering if they were just being nice to me because I was a foreigner. They did not seem to understand the concept of volunteering, and often asked “What I was getting out of it” as though there should be a financial/status reason why I was there. There was such an element of skepticism to how they viewed me, which was completely (and I concede this fully) understandable, but it wasn’t pleasant.

However, when asked which experience was better, or which I learned more from, I’m quite torn. If forced to decide, I would have to say India though, because it taught me the two extremes that an organization can take. Goraj taught me that you can only really know something by living it — not reading about it or hearing about it. SEWA Rural taught me that you cannot just help people. It isn’t enough. You must teach them to help themselves. I realize that this sounds simple and obvious, but the truth is, very few organizations do this. It was a privilege to witness one that can. Goraj and SEWA Rural started off with very similar intentions and circumstances. Both began as hospitals in tents in very rural areas, with the sole objective of helping poor people, and grew to help in other ways other than the medical/physical. Both were founded on religious figures or philosophers. But while one has become wealthy which large amounts of overseas donations pouring in whilst scandals and abuse occur behind closed doors (Goraj was the subject of some controversy over some large sum of money), the other is lacking such sizeable donations yet is making liberal and truly revolutionary changes.

The other question I ask myself a lot is whether I have changed. I think a lot of the way I look at things have, and I think I have seen the things I take for granted. But I truly don’t think my fundamental person or personality has changed (except for matters involving capital punishment perhaps). Let me rephrase that. I haven’t stayed stagnant either – I have evolved. But I don’t think I am a new person coming back. I don’t think I’ve “found myself”. And I’m not sure if that means I am still lost or that I never really was to begin with. What does it mean to find one’s self anyways? The very notion presupposes that your “self” is an fixed point, when really it should be ever-changing. A really wise person once said to me, “If you’re not changing, you’re wasting time.” So perhaps I didn’t find myself on these travels. But who said I was looking? And who said there was a “self” to look for?

I apologize for the unbelievably lengthy post, and the unedited, rambling thoughts, but there was a lot of catching up to do. For those that made it to the end, thanks for your endless support. I would be nowhere without it.