Friday 30 March 2012



I sit on the roof of the house in Ambattur OT, the sun is low in the sky illuminating everything around me with an amber glow; the tops of palm trees are visible from where I am sat and droop wearily after another day enduring the Indian heat. The floor is dusty and dirties my feet; the washing line, draped with colourful bed sheets is held up with a single wooden post and tangles and untangles itself dancing with the breeze. I push my legs forward, cross my feet in front of me, lean back on to my hands, look up to the sky and my mind drifts.
Two and a half months here in Chennai; two months in South India and just over three weeks until I board the return flight back to the UK. As if having a flashback in the moments before death where one recalls their entire life, I see and feel every experience I have had in India so far. And then I ponder over what will come next.





The Work

I have spent the first two months here working on a Youth Livelihood Project. My role was split into two: one part involved me leading the junior volunteers and supporting them with with their work: a role I felt comfortable with. The other involved me researching the content to go into the Livelihoods module which would be taught to out of school youths around Tamil Nadu. This I was a little more nervous about. I worked mostly on my own and in the beginning was very uncertain of what I was supposed to be doing. Working with my Indian team was an experience: lots of laughing but at times, tedious.
My boss, with his wicked smile and intense stare used metaphors and similes in every conversation. To make any point, he would tell a huge story about something seemingly irrelevant and by the time it got to the point, I had lost track of what he was trying to say. Combined with his impossible accent, this made my start with the charity quite slow. In time, I got to understand what was being asked of me and even began taking on the Chennai accent in my own way.  I carried out needs assessments in different areas of Tamil Nadu to try and understand the needs of those I would be working with. From this I began to understand the direction of the work I would be doing. It soon began to flow; like a smooth running river with a destination to get to and a deadline to meet; like a roll of fresh green turf spread across a new lawn. It was great; I enjoyed this new found flare in myself. I believe it is called professionalism. I thrived on it, took on challenges and embraced new ideas. Seeing myself in this role reminded of my capacity and potential to achieve all that I aim to achieve; it reminded me to overcome my barriers and endure to see the truth.

A bump in the road...

A week before I was due to deliver this module to the junior volunteers, my time had come to suffer the dreaded Delhi belly that I had long heard of. And it was worse than I could ever imagine. My body, pale and exhausted, took no nutrients and had no desire to. For just over a week I was very unwell. I sat in a bed next to another of the volunteers who suffered the same ghastly illness, we kept each other company for just over a week. The training was postponed. By the sixth day of this feverish parasite illness that sapped all of my energy, I made the decision to go to hospital. I was weak and dizzy and vaguely remember stuffing my rucksack with many irrelevant items and a clean pair of pants.Vadivelan had called me an auto rickshaw, My Knight in Shining Armour. He, a solid block of a man with a heart as gentle as a purring kitten and a smile bigger than his face, took my hand and led me to the vehicle. Phew! We sat together as the auto rickshaw buzzed through the streets of Velore, dodging big trucks, cows, cyclists and chai stalls; the noise of the city was lost to me. My head was a space where no sound entered and no thought was created. I felt numb.
We arrived at the hospital nearby and floated in to the waiting room. After a few minutes we were seen to. I'm not sure when it began, but soon after we had arrived, I began sobbing quietly to myself. The doctors, nurses and Vadivelan reassured me all was well, but all I could do was weep. I wept because I was weak and I wept because I was scared. The hospital, as lovely as the staff were, was not in the most hygienic state. Grunts, sniffles and moans later and I was eventually moved to a bed. A bed in a nice, clean room. My nerves calmed and I lay down on the bed and took a deep breath. A nurse called Girija came into the room like an angel from heaven, she held in her hand my new supply of life: an I.V. saline drip. In the needle went into the pumping blue vein in my right forearm, a stab of pain. Then the drip was attached my a long thin tube to the needle jutting out from my arm. I watched as the liquid slowly made its way from the bag to where the tube met the needle and I sank deeper into the bed. Relaxed. I knew that in a matter of a few hours, this horrible illness would leave my body; I would be able to eat, drink and sleep without the worry of being ill again.

Back on track...

I was now behind on my work, but very eager to complete it speedily in order to give the training the next day. A day on the computer in a small and sweaty internet cafe, costing 75 rupees helped me to gather some extra information and I was ready.

I delivered the module to the junior volunteers in one day. There was a lot of information to take on board but I felt one day was sufficient for them to receive that information. I felt relaxed in the delivery and though there were areas that could be adapted, it was mostly successful. It was an experience that has helped me to feel more comfortable in the role of 'facilitator'.
The junior volunteers took on what they needed and planned to prepare their resources to go in to the field. They were equipped with lesson plans and materials to help them carry out workshops in rural communities to help empower unemployed youth and teach them new skills such as; soft skills, Career/Business Development, CV writing, Interview skills and information on Government Schemes available to them.

After a week of preparing their resources, the junior volunteers prepared to head out to work in their communities. I joined fellow West Country girl, Katie to her allocated group near Chenglepet. Three train journeys, a bus ride and ride on the back of a motorbike and arrived in Mullipakum, a small rural village near to Chenglepet. I had visited before to carry out the needs assessment of the area and was happy to return. It was beautiful; beyond words, it was truly beautiful.

Aside from the work we would be starting here, this space, this community is where my heart was yearning to be in India. Similar to my life changing moments in Africa, I had found myself here in Mullipakum, with real people. Real, raw and simple. It was life stripped bare of all pretense. It was pure.

I awoke in the morning to the sun in my eyes and a peculiar noise in my ears. I peeled my body away from the plastic covered mattress, rubbed my eyes and noted a green parrot sitting at the window; I smiled. It squawked proudly from its perch a song missing its harmony, then off it swooped across the lush green fields of rice. I followed it as it flew, my eyes touching on new images with every second; men and women, draped in sarees and lungis bent forward in the fields, huge, horned bovine being pulled by tiny old ladies, goats and chickens running freely, palm trees reaching high in to the sky, hairy coconuts littered on the ground underneath them, a stream of irrigation water with no sign of pollution in it. The air was fresh.

The week I spent in Mullipakum was the best I have spent in India. This is where I am happy. No noise from over populated cities; just peace. No pollution littering every free space available with smells that burn like acid through my skin. No people shouting, touching, staring aggressively. It was entirely peaceful. And the people I did meet had a calming effect on me. Of course they were interested by the strangers in their village, but there was no anger in their eyes; no fear. We were existing together in this village with a language that consisted of smiles and energies that exuded warmth.

During the days we would meet with people in the village:
We visited a local farm where we played with animals and ate with the family who lived there. We walked through their fields of watermelons and beans and played volleyball (embarrassingly poorly) with their children. The kindness of these people grabbed me by the heart and left a hand print that will always be with me.

We traveled by hitching rides in the trailers of tractors and ate slices of watermelon from roadside stalls. At 2 rupees a piece, it would have been a sin not to indulge.

We visited schools and played games with the shoe less children who with their gap toothed grins showed joy at our presence. We shared words by pointing out objects and animals and named them in English and Tamil. We played games of 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' and 'The Hokey Kokey' and enjoyed every minute of it; myself, I feel, more than the children.

In the evenings we worked with our Livelihoods Group. With a focus on Career Development, Soft Skills, CV Writing and Interview Skills, I observed the sessions and facilitated others and loved the process of seeing everyone in the group develop in confidence. The junior and national volunteers included.
To see what I had planned in action and to see it working effectively with all participants being engaged, I felt a sense of pride wash over me that helped to build my confidence and has enabled me to see my potential even further. This weeks achievements will stay with me and guide me throughout the course of my life: I am capable.

On the last night, after an interactive and engaging session on Interview Skills, one of the girls, Ramini, presented us with red roses from the bush outside of her house. They were tied to branches of pine trees with white twine; I felt the importance in this occasion. We all stood together and Ramini spoke; she expressed her happiness at us coming to her village and her original fears of having strangers come to teach; she told us that the skills we had taught are invaluable to them and will stay with them always; she said she felt like she has gained sisters and she was sad to see us leaving. A small tear trickled town from my left eye and I brushed it away. I shared with them words and Katie did too. I was grateful to have shared a moment of their life with them; Their life so pure, so innocent, so different in just a small moment has assisted me in my journey in an incredible way. In them I see a peacefulness that is attainable within everyone.



In this country, I hoped to develop myself spiritually and do so through meeting people who could talk to me about the way they live their lives. Though my experience here has involved struggles and strife, I have also had the opportunity to be involved in situations with have provided me with a deeper insight in to the lives of those who live simply and within their means. Inspirational and thought provoking.

I have learnt in India.




I came here with certain objectives I felt needed to be met whilst in this country. I have been drawn to India for many years and I felt it could help me to understand new ways of seeing and understanding the world. This restlessness within myself has been calmed in the last few months as I have realised that I need not be in any particular place to feel complete. I was forever searching and through encounters with people here in India, I have learnt to stop that search. All I need is right here with me. There is of course more knowledge to be gained, more experiences to be had, but these come with time. I do not need to wish for them to hurry along.

I feel very relaxed.

The sun is setting in the distance over the houses of Ambattur and the night sky is becoming visible. I get up from where I have been sitting, stretch up high, reach towards the sky, stand on my tiptoes then touch back down onto my heels. I walk towards the steps to leave the roof. I turn back to where I had been sitting, smile and leave.




1 comment:

  1. Thanks Katy. I enjoyed reading your experiences. Hope to catch up with you and Abel in the near future. xx Ben

    ReplyDelete