Another Horizon

Trying to throw your arms around the world.

tjrossi — Mon, 11 Jul 2016 22:27:00 GMT

I haven’t written for a while, probably too long, but I recently felt the need to commit some thoughts to paper, or electronic file at least.

With all of the upheaval and division we hear about these days it seems easy to see the world as a dark place and draw inward to our own ‘tribe’, or even, into ourselves. And that seems to be happening more and more. At least according to the media but that’s another issue I guess.

Now I can’t say I’m an expert on people; on interracial, interreligious or international relations: Not at all. But I am someone who, some would say, squandered, most of my 20s (and most of the money I earned in that period) travelling. I was lucky to travel to over 40 countries over the course of about 18 months on different trips and placements, most of them alone, in the hopes of experiencing them and understanding something about the world: Basically throwing myself into the arms of humanity with a lot of faith. Not necessarily in any religious sense, but in the sense that if I approached others with openness and a feeling of oneness I would be treated in kind. On one trip I travelled all the way through Eastern Europe, Russia and the Middle East into Asia. Some people thought I was nuts and probably still do, but there you have it.

I’m a little older now, my goals have changed and some of the memories are not as fresh as they used to be. I’m not as immersed in the intensity of that travelling throng as I once was. If I’m honest the more I sit on the couch or stare at headlines on my phone, sadly I have lost a little of that optimism. And, probably like many others out there, I catch myself feeling quite downcast about the state of the world and people’s treatment of each other.

But in hindsight, my faith in humanity never let me down. From the dusty streets of post revolution Cairo to old Bethlehem on the west bank and amongst the holy men and beggars in Varanasi, I walked alone, but was never far from a friend. I looked people in the eye and had optimism in my heart. Sure, not everyone is a saint but you know what? I never had any problems and 99% of those I met were great and responded in good spirit. I estimate I met many hundreds of people, some just to say Namaste, Al Salaam Alaykum or equivalent, some for a cup of tea or a smoke and at times I was even treated as a lost son. Some kind of distant cousin from a place they’d only heard of in some vague way, if at all. And I learned I think, that at our core we are the same and essentially more or less want the same in life: Love, respect, peace, and enough to get by and raise a family to share our lives with.

I heard something good recently from a colleague of Barack Obama. No matter your politics you can take a moment to consider this idea. Despite our differences, and they are often many on the surface, we should consciously try to recognise something of ourselves in others. Then it becomes so much easier to understand each other and to get along in harmony.

I’m not saying it’s easy, as time goes by and memories of my travelling days fade I find myself worn down by tiredness, disagreeable people and sometimes a short temper, but I think this is perhaps one of the main battles in life. And, if we can each try to do this…if we can give a little understanding, people open up in response and you know, the world may even be a better place than it is. And I think despite all the bad news, it is actually still a good place full of good people.

'Loan a little, change a lot'

tjrossi — Sun, 16 Feb 2014 07:59:00 GMT

Late last year it was my privilege to attend a field trip in Southern India with Milaap; a social credit organisation based in Bangalore. Milaap was set up to provide easier access to credit for the working poor of India. They work with field partners in poor and rural areas who implement projects such as sanitation, solar power, irrigation and vocational training. This pragmatic approach is an example of a new breed of socially focused organisations in India determined to help people to help themselves by providing finance at very low rates of interest. Their motto 'lend a little, change a lot' was something I was able to see for myself during my visit.

I volunteer several hours a week writing online borrower profiles for Milaap's various projects so it was great to be able to see their work in person. After discussions with volunteer coordinator Alister Monte, it was decided I would visit some sanitation and irrigation projects in Musari, a small town in rural Tamil Nadu.

After an overnight bus ride from Bangalore to Tiruchirappalli I was picked up in by Senthil Kumar, my host for the day from local NGO Guardian. Guardian (or Gramalaya Urban and Rural Development Initiative in full) is Milaap's field partner in the region and has been working in water and sanitation in Tamil Nadu for 20 years. The relationship works like this; people apply through Guardian for funding for their particular need, Milaap provides the online platform to advertise the loan request and finally the money comes in and the project is paid for through Milaap. The borrower then pays the money back monthly in cash for Guardian to collect on behalf of Milaap who return this amount to borrowers. This system allows national and international funds to reach small communities all across India through local NGOs.

The drive to Musari provided me an opportunity to discuss Guardian's work with Senthil. He informed me that his organisation work village by village to improve living standards. Education is a hugely significant part of the process I learn. You need to empower people with the knowledge of how they can improve their lives before providing the actual means. The first step they take is to arrange meetings with village elders to educate them about how local sanitation and irrigation could be improved through their initiatives. They then meet with the wider community and once they understand the health and environmental implications the uptake spreads quickly. At present Guardian works successfully in 600 villages and rural towns in the region.

Upon arrival to the village the first borrower I was introduced to was Chitra, a local washer woman aged 35. Chitra showed me into her one room brick home where she and her husband, an ironer, live with their three children. It was less than 20 square metres and necessarily well organised with a bed on one side, clothes hanging nearby and pots and pans for cooking in another corner.

She recently received a loan of Rs. 7,000 (USD$113) through Milaap for the installation of a water tap at her home. The free standing faucet now stands over a wooden grate in the yard. It was set up by tapping into the main water pipe running beneath the roadside in the town. As simple as it seemed to my eyes, this installation has made a big difference to her life. In Musari, the water only comes through for an hour every two days. Townspeople have to queue at the well to collect water for their families. Chitra used to have to walk quite a distance to the well and would only be able to bring back 5-6 pots each visit. She said the queue could be very stressful with people arguing and even fighting over access. Now Chitra has her own tap it not only saves time and stress but yields over 20 litres of water per collection.

The terms of her loan allowed her a maximum of 18 months to pay back the loan plus the standard 2.5 percent. She was able to afford a repayment schedule Rs. 400 (USD$6.50) permonth through she and her husband’s combined wage.

A short walk down Musari's dirt road we came to our next borrower"s home. Vajaya was a 36 year old on her own with two children after separating from her husband. She works ironing and washing clothes for wealthier people in the town. She recently received a loan of Rs.10,000 (USD$161) for the installation of a toilet. Now complete, the toilet is a simple, low cost construction built in a small outdoor room. It has a steel squat pan set in concrete and a combustible underground septic tank beside it. In short it is an ingenius structure that has been designed to be built with a minimum of fuss and cost in the developing world*.

As a single mother Rs. 10,000 is quite a large amount to borrow but Vajaya felt that she needed to have a toilet in the home not just for convenience but also for the safety of her family. Without this convenience in the home they would have to travel 500 metres to a field and find cover in nearby bushes each time they needed to go. You can imagine her fear in the unlit darkness of the village at night and the shame of daytime.

Financially it has been tight but affordable. She has been paying the loan back at a rate of Rs. 600 (UDD$9.70) per month and hopes to have paid it off in full within the 18 month term. I asked Vajaya if it would have been possible to install a toilet without the assistance of the loan. She said it would have taken years to come up with the money and she would likely have had to sell some of her possessions to pay for it. As it was, the construction started quickly and she was able to have this important facility available after just 6 weeks work by local labourers.

The final person we visited was Banupriya; a young married woman in her early 20s. She is a new mother and lives with her husband. They are both self employed; he as an ironer and she a tailor. Work can be erratic and dependant on the season but they bring home Rs. 13,000 (USD$210) per month on average. She is also paying the loan back over 18 months and is currently paying Rs. 600 per month. She says this is not a major struggle for them to afford especially with such a low rate of interest at 2.5 %. With other moneylenders in the town she would have been paying 30-60 % interest so you can appreciate that the social credit philosophy really is filling a gap for people like her without access to traditional modes of credit like bank loans.

She had similar reasons to build the toilet as Vajaya. The convenience and security of a toilet in the home compared to the risks of going in the field. Now that she has started a family that is doubly important to her. She said that sometimes bad people and drug users hang around in such places, while local wildlife can be a challenge too. The final straw came last year when she was nearly bitten by a snake while relieving herself! With the stress of her first baby to contend with she is very happy not to have to concern herself with these sorts of dangers in future.

After this final meeting was over it was time to reflect on my day in Musari. I felt very privileged to meet Chitra, Banupriya and Vasaya and be welcomed into their homes and community. To gain insight into the lives that many Indian's face was thought provoking. At the same time it was reassuring to see how pragmatic steps like the loan of initial capital can give working people like these the chance to improve their daily lives for the long term.

If you are interested in learning more about the social credit philosophy of Milaap and their field partners please visit www.milaap.org. You can support a project for as little as $25, remembering that as it's a loan it won't cost you anything but it can make a valuable difference.

*Note: Access to toilets is certainly not the most glamorous issue in global development but it may well be one of the most important. According to UNICEF 2.6 billion worldwide (essentially half of the developing world) are considered to be living without access to a suitable toilet. Proper sanitation and disposal of waste is of crucial importance especially in countries like India where people live in such close proximity. Apart from the lack of dignity, this can lead to illness and even death. It is estimated that 1.8 million children in these circumstances die each year from Diarrheal diseases.

Salaam Baalak Trust - One story

tjrossi — Sun, 29 Dec 2013 18:04:00 GMT

Of all the interactions I've had with children at Salaam Balaak Trust perhaps the most powerful has been with Raju, a young Polio sufferer. Raju was born sometime around 1990 on the streets around New Delhi. He developed Polio at a young age which caused his feet to become deformed. He is also mildly mentally impaired.

It is hard to know exactly how old Raju was when he contracted Polio but he remembers a time when he could walk and even run. He says his parents lived rough on the streets around New Delhi train station. His father was a rickshaw driver and in his early years he was taught to beg to bring money to the family. Anyone who has travelled on Indian trains will attest to the number of poor children begging or selling while the carriages wait on the platform. Raju was one of those disabled children dragging himself along the aisle of trains each day begging for change. Whether accidentally or by design he boarded a train south which saw him wind up on the streets of Karnataka; several thousand kilometres away from Delhi near the southern tip of the country. After some time he was located by social workers who took him off the streets and into Bangalore Boy’s home. Earlier this year he was transferred to Salaam Baalak Trust in Delhi in the hope that his parents could be located in the city.

Raju is now 14 years old, his parents have not been located and he is living at the temporary shelter home for street children that Salaam Baalak run in New Delhi. When I met him his feet were completely turned back on themselves, facing each other at an angle of around 45 degrees from the norm. As you can imagine he had a very difficult time moving freely but he was able to get around by putting weight on what should have been his heel but in effect functioned like the balls of his feet. Sometimes he would drag himself along the floor using the strength of this arms.

I'll admit I was shocked by his deformity. I had never seen this condition before and it took some time to see him as the same as the other boys and realize I didn’t have to treat him any differently because of his condition. As I got to spend more time with him I realised he was a lovely kid with a real spark about him.

The first time I really got to know him was in my second week at the Trust. I was working at the time with a group of older boys who aspired to attend university but I tried each day to put some time aside to visit the class of fifty or so younger residents of the shelter. That day I entered the room and said hi to the exubherant boys, shaking their hands and giving high fives, ‘how are yous’ and ‘Namastes’. I came to Raju and noticed he wasn’t his usual cheerful self. It seemed something had happened he was crying and angry. He began to hit his head against the locker… again and again. I spoke to him and calmed him down and gave him a bit of a hug which to my surprise worked. It seemed he had been getting picked on by another boy. Amongst the controlled chaos of the room I tracked down his hardworking teacher. Stern words were spoken.

It really dawned on me that day that Raju’s life must be very difficult indeed. Even more difficult than those other disadvantaged children who had grown up on the streets. Having an abnormality meant he sometimes couldn’t join in fully with the fifty or so other boys he lived with. And how would it ever get better, I thought. Raju’s life was going to be a battle. If he can't walk what future does this little man have, I wondered. Will he be institutionalised his whole life? Could he ever work or be independent? Will he return to the streets like so many other disabled people in India? It seemed a grim future and I resolved to speak to the senior staff about him and get some answers to my questions. In the meantime I decided to take time out everyday to visit him, to try to make him feel special while I was here and that's how our friendship started.

So I went to see him each day to play the clap games the boys here are so fond of, or just to chat. Even if he couldn't understand the words, he could really understand the meaning. Raju has a really bright smile and as the weeks went by it became a real pleasure to be able to see it light up his face each day.

One day I went to see the boys and spend time with Raju as usual, but something was wrong. He was nowhere to be found. I asked some of the boys where he was. They just said 'gone'. It turned he had been in hospital. When he returned one of the Trust’s social workers took me to visit him in the sick room. He was lying on the bed looking very small and fragile. Noticing his legs were in plaster I feared the worst. 'He had ...operation' the staff member said. I started to feel my heart pounding. I gathered after a while that he had had some treatment for his deformity. They told me there was a boy at the trust several years back who was treated with the same technique and he was now walking again.

I was shocked and thrilled at the same time. I didn't even realise treatment was possible. It was amazing to think this little boy is going to walk again, or perhaps for the first time. It will take a series of corrective procedures over the course of 8 months. Each week the ligaments, joint capsules, and tendons are stretched and his feet put in a cast to hold the change. Finally he will have surgery to put the feet back in their correct position. The staff are optimistic but even if he is never a dancer even basic functionality will allow him to work and possibly gain independence. I can’t tell you how grim his life would be without the intervention of the trust.

India is still some way behind with its care of the disabled. Often the only option for the disabled poor is begging on the streets. Raju would likely have ended up like so many others rolling around on a wheeled board asking strangers for help. Now his life is going to be completely changed. In the future there will need to be a decision on whether to educate him further or whether to train him in a vocational trade - like handicrafts. This will depend on his aptitude and what he wants. The staff note he very much enjoys art and is particularly and has a knack for making crafts like candles and pottery - both of which are sought after products in India. Salaam Baalak work with other organizations in Delhi that help to upskill poor people so that they can have a livlihood in vocational crafts. He could be sent there and trained. This could be a serious option for Raju and give him independence and a good living.

That is what charities like Salaam Baalak can do in India: effect people's lives in a profound way. The cost of this procedure is around 1000 Rupee ($20NZD) per week and over the course of treatment will run to 100,000 Rupee or at the present exchange rate around $2000 NZD. A substantial amount of money and a very large amount here but perhaps not a huge amount to change a life.

In terms of funding, Salaam Baalak receives just ten percent of its costs through local government financing. In many ways this is because the need is so great that public funds are stretched between a number of NGOs. Forty percent is received from international charities like Save the Children and Give to Asia. And the remaining fifty percent comes in through private and corporate donations.

The philosophy of the charity is that if they keep doing good things people will support them and the money needed will be raised. After 25 years of successfully helping the children of Delhi it seems their faith in the goodness of people is justified. Raju is a living example of their good work and a testament to their objective of doing the best for these children. If you are interested in finding out more about Salaam Baalak Trust and how you could support them please go to salaambaalaktrust.com for more information.

Street children - The challenge

tjrossi — Fri, 8 Nov 2013 02:14:00 GMT

I've been in Delhi more than a month now and many of you are probably wondering what I'm doing here each day. I'm volunteering for an organisation called Salaam Balaak Trust teaching English and trying to support older teenagers in their quest to gain higher education. Salaam Balaak Trust is a grass roots organisation that helps to rehabilitate the street children of Delhi by providing food, shelter, education and job opportunities.

During my time with the trust I have been able to glean a lot of information from former street children and social workers at the trust. I will relate it here in the hope that it will help to explain the reasons that organisations like Salaam Balaak exist at all and why they do such important work in this city.

Due to the transient nature of our subjects it is difficult to provide accurate statistics on the number of street children in India at any one time. However, conservative estimates put this number at around 20 million throughout the country’s' urban centres. The United Nations Commissioner for Human Rights has recognised India as the country with the highest number of street children in the world and Delhi certainly has more than it's share of vulnerable children without proper homes.

Many of you will be quite rightly shocked by this and it raises many questions. Who are these children and why are they on the streets? How did they get there? How do they survive? Where are their parents? These are all good questions and appear to have simple answers, but unfortunately they do not. These initial questions lead to others which go deeper and require more consideration to attempt to answer. For example why is this such a problem in India in particular? And what steps can be taken to alleviate the situation in future? In my opinion it is only after some time here that you can understand how this human catastrophe could happen and how it is so tied to the economy and infrastructure of Indian life it will be difficult to prevent this situation perpetuating itself each generation.

So who are these children? They come from a variety of backgrounds. The majority seem to be runaways from rural poverty, abusive homes or forced labour. But they may be been born on the streets of a teeming metropolis like Delhi to very poor parents who couldn't support them, they may have had some sort of genetic condition which caused their parents to abandon them due to social stigma, or they may have simply got lost in a crowd and their parents were unable to find them again. How can that happen you ask? Well imagine your child being lost in a busy shopping mall, now multiply that amount of people twenty times and imagine you are in a packed outdoor market or festival in India: hundreds rushing by, jostling shoulder to shoulder. Then imagine you had limited support from a regulated police force or government department to help you find your child amongst the masses. Not a very scientific explanation perhaps, but hopefully that gives you some idea. This sort of family tragedy does happen and sometimes the children are never seen again.

Why are the children on the streets? Some may have grown up there but most who come in to the cities from surrounding areas make a conscious choice; albeit a naive one. With modern media and communications as they are the children become aware it is a vastly different world in the cities.Even children in small villages grow up watching Bollywood movies and television. They know they are poor and that there is a better life out there. They are often the children of uneducated parents who work as their parents did; as simple farmers, labourers, or in other low skilled jobs. At present India perhaps more than any country is a world of divergent opportunity. So this is a problem of a changing world. In the city, the children believe, they can become stars and live the life they want. At the very least they can earn a comfortable living and live a modern lifestyle. For these children it's the Asian equivalent of 'The American dream', 'The Indian dream' if you will, and it plays out on screen much more successfully than in reality.

So how do these poor village children reach the city streets? They often stow away on a train as a result of spur of the moment decision. They are only young children after all. In ‘unreserved class’ people are packed in, literally hanging out the door. Under these conditions you can imagine how hard it is for a conductor to check tickets. It just isn't possible, so tickets aren't usually needed. So we have a situation where minors as young as 5 or 6 are boarding trains from villages and getting off in urban centres. You can imagine a child’s fear when they arrive in a city for the first time and see a crowd of people or large buildings, but even if they want to go home they often don't know where their home is or their address, if there is one. Or they know which village they came from but there are half a dozen villages with the same name in this vast country. So even if they want to they cannot find their way home on their own. This is how many become stuck in a metropolis like Delhi with no support and vulnerable to exploitation.

How do these children survive? I want to clarify, and I am relatively confident in saying this, children are not starving on the streets of Delhi. Being 'homeless' as we would call living on the streets of cities in the west, is not the same in India. It is a relatively common sight to see people living under plastic sheeting or at train stations. Often whole families with shelter, a stove, blankets and other conveniences. While it is not a desirable situation, I think because in some areas there are a large number of people living this way it likely takes away some of the danger and stigma that we would attribute to it. As for food; it is one of the true joys of life here for the poor as well as the rich, and it is rightly cheap. You can purchase street food at a very small price and free food is also abundant. There are up to a hundred festivals a year here and free food is provided each festival day. Besides this, Sikh temples provide food to everyone, regardless of creed, religion or caste every day. Thanks to charity within Indian society and also established aid organisations food is not actually an expense street children are even concerned about.

There are also many opportunities to earn money in the urban environment. Children are often employed in businesses like tea shops or restaurants. You also see children shining shoes or walking around picking up rubbish for recycling - so called ‘rag picking’. Some are lured into pick-pocketing, prostitution or begging. For the more socially acceptable of these trades they can earn up to 200 rupee per day, and for the latter much more. A daily wage of 200 Rupee (about 2 GBP) is actually a lot of money here when you consider a meal will set you back only 20 to 40 rupee and no money is required for accommodation. And, tellingly, it can be as much as three to four times what an unskilled adult worker can earn in the village.

So where are the parents of these young people? Well that too varies: Perhaps unable to be found, or unable to provide a safe home for the children. Sometimes parents force their children to work to help the family and deny them an education. In the case of poor urban families, sometimes the parents themselves are on the streets, begging or drug addicted. In most situations not providing the life the children would want or most would consider acceptable. However the children are not always neglected and there is often deep grief when a child disappears with parents spend years trying to find them.

My organisation Salaam Balaak Trust aims to intervene early and if possible return these children to their families as soon as they reach the city. They have a team of social workers combing the stations and streets to bring the children in to contact points where they can get a meal, a medical check up and tell their story. If it's possible and desired by the child the social workers will try to contact their parents. If that's not possible then the most important thing is to convince them to give up life on the street and join one of the Trust's full time shelter homes. Often it takes a long time to reason with the child and point out that they don't have a future on the streets before they agree to come to a fulltime shelter. The longer the children stay on the street the more they grow to like the freedom and independence and the harder it is to bring them back to normal life. Many times the battle is lost and the children never take that step. One of the sadder sights in Delhi is men and women in middle age or older working ragpicking or begging as they must have done as kids: Surviving day to day but without a future.

At the moment NGOs like Salaam Balaak Trust are essential in India. They fill a gap that governmental programmes seem unable to plug, perhaps due to the vastness of the problem. It seems as though these problems run so deep that it will take many generations to resolve them. It would take a massive shift in mindset and a huge investment to reduce or eradicate the problem of street children in future, but I believe with time and the will it can be done. The problem is closely tied with the demand for child labour in the cities that draws the children in. There are officially 12 million children working in India but NGOs put that number at closer to 60 million. Child protection laws were passed in 2006 stating that no child under the age of 14 should be in employment but that goal is a long way from reality. The government recently claimed a 98% school attendance rate for Indian children, which is so far off base it seems laughable. You only need to walk around any Indian city to know that child labour is very much a problem.

So the government needs to get real and get serious about enforcement of their child protection laws and make education a priority. With a population touching 1.2 billion, no doubt this is easier said than done but as time passes that shouldn't be used as an excuse if they truly want to change things here. Moves have begun, the government currently sponsors meals in schools to entice low income families to send their children to class, but it must do more. Some NGOs provide compensation payments to parents who are effectively losing a day's labour when they send their children to the classroom. Perhaps the government could look at that as an option if parents cannot afford to lose their children's labour or understand the value of educating their next generation.

In the interim concrete steps could be made to mitigate the problem of child runaways. Regulation of India's train system must improve and be brought up to modern standards. This is achievable, there is plenty of money in this country these days, it only needs to be effectively collected and targeted in the right areas. There should be more people employed, more ticket gates and more people checking who gets on and off the trains. And with that, necessarily, more security will need to be put in place. This would prevent many of these children from illegally travelling to urban centres in the first place.

Perhaps the most difficult thing to change will the culture of caste still deeply engrained in India, especially in rural areas. Discrimination based on caste is now officially illegal but the philosophy is hard to shift: Essentially you are born with a place in life and for most people there are always people above and below them on the pecking order. Through religion, the people are taught to accept their place as indicative of their actions in previous lives and if they perform good deeds in this one they can then rise in the next. The idea that individuals can rise from a lower rank to the higher educated elite is still a revolutionary one here and prejudice runs deep in segments of Indian society. In urban areas things are slowly changing but while the majority of the country lives by a philosophy of pre-destination based on past karma things will not change. Why would a farm labourer send a child to study at university when their place is in the village on the farm? It makes no sense to you and it makes no sense to them. So parents will keep their children working on the small plot of land in the village rather than sending them to school. If children aren't satisfied with that some will take drastic measures.

The problem of street children is a complex one and due to a culmination of factors it seems India is more susceptible to it that most nations. As a result it will take many years and a genuine national will to eradicate or even alleviate the situation here. In the meantime Salaam Baalak Trust and other NGOs will continue to do the valuable work of picking up the pieces and showing these children another way.

In a number of ways the boys I work with are the lucky ones. Most were runaways. They had to endure tough times on the street but they have come out the other side and been able to see what is possible for them. They have worked hard, made up classes through correspondence and overcome a lack of formal education when they were younger. On the verge of completing high-school, they now have the control of their lives that they craved years ago when they made their decision to leave home. They will go on to university and a world of possibility. They will inspire the next generation of children at the Trust while at the same time showing their fellow citizens what great potential street children have and what you can make of your life if you are given the chance.

Sweat and opportunity

tjrossi — Fri, 18 Oct 2013 04:34:00 GMT

It has been the case for a long time that who you are in India depends very much on an accident of birth. We are told things are changing and there is a distinct middle and upper class here now, yet it seems clear that for the urban and rural poor who you are at birth largely shapes your future. That is not to say that education is not now available to more and more people. The government reports that 98% of children attend school - yet on the ground those number appear highly inflated. It seems however as much a problem of the continuing customs and traditions that shape people's attitudes towards their peers and indeed themselves as it is of any political initiative or lack therof.

If you grow the son of a tea shop owner, rickshaw driver or labourer it seems likely you will grow up to do the same as your father. Despite the best intentions of the government, who are now distributing free food in schools, or NGOs who work to ensure formal and non formal education opportunities in impoverished areas: it is the families themselves who ultimately decide the fate of their kids. And often, for the tea shop owner who makes a modest living with limited resources, it seems natural to put your son to work at ten to serve chai, as you did. One day of course the son will take over the shop and have that to support him. And so things go on.

Seeing boys working in restaurants, scraping a living on the street selling recycling or indeed begging is a common occurance in the urban landscape and you become accustomed to it. As is seeing men breaking their backs peddling heavily loaded rickshaws or women using babies as props for charity. Having been in country for over a month now it seems relatively easy to justify this as 'just the way things are'. And indeed that is a fair position. There is not much one person could do to change an entire social system. Besides this has all been tried before and nowadays people realise they have no right to meddle in the affairs of another country - we know this. However it is only after coming face to face with real people that you understand the unfairness of it and justifications of cultural difference or trying to look at things without the lens of a westerner fall flat. There is an objective right and wrong here and let me tell you why.

I have been working at a children's charity for four weeks now. We are located up four steep flights of stairs in a cramped old concrete construction in central Delhi. Every now and then a very slight silver haired man, weighing no more than 55 kilograms humps huge 20 litre water bottles up the stairs - one after another after another. People mostly ignore him, I've never heard anyone offer thanks. Like most people, I am polite enough to get out of his way if we meet him on the stairwell, to somehow ease his labours. I admire him and I've wanted to help him at times. It is hard to convey how inappropriate that would be here. And I'm nearly positive he wouldnt even let me, but I have felt ashamed as I watch him pass by. Sometimes I catch his eye, but we've never talked - until today.

I was sitting in the largest room of our NGO tutoring a university student in English Grammar. Resources are scarce so this room functions as an office, classroom, kitchen and play area. As such I was sitting at the office desk, near the fridge and food supplies on the day when our delivery man was on duty replenishing the water. As I see him 2-3 times I week, I barely noticed him as he came in and out carrying twenty kilogram bottles on shoulder - half the size of him - and laid them down a few feet in front of me. As time went by he looked more flushed with sweat in the heat and I could see the recognition on his face when I caught his eye. By the time he had done ten or so bottles we exchanged hesitant smiles. 'Poor man is very strong' he said. 'Poor man is very strong'. Yes I said, yes you are. This was no lie as despite outweighing him by 30 kilograms or so it was a real effort for me to carry these as he did. 'Me' he gestured, 'fifty', he said. I got up and shook his hand. He beamed, then continued with his nearly finished task. My student (who is himself a child of poverty) looked at me as if I had patted a stray dog. His bemused smile wondered at this interruption. Why would I talk to him, seemed the question.

A few minutes and several more bottles later, my new friend caught my eye. Hands upturned hands clasped in front of chest as if in prayer he said a careful 'Thank you'. 'Thank YOU' I said, and he grinned and went on his way. No doubt back to his rickshaw to fill up another load to deliver.

A simple interaction perhaps but this exchange is not common and would probably be percieved as very strange behaviour here. He professed to being a 'poor man' and this shows how he percieves me also. I am rich to him; my days filled with the simple comfort of a chair, my head in a book discussing words he cannot understand. His days are full of sweat, toil and dust. Twelve, twenty litre bottles packed on the back of his pedal powered rickshaw straining in the traffic and the heat. Delivery is probably the easy part.

I wonder if he went to school, I wonder how old he was when he started this work and I wonder if his children will get the chance to get an education. It is not that his job is not worthy of respect and admiration, it most certainly is: although I'm not sure he gets any. It is about opportunity and controlling your own destiny. If you are born into a role, you have one choice - or indeed no choice. If you learn to read and write the world opens up; life opens up. And I wish that man the wisdom to understand that for his own children. I also sincerely hope that attitudes here can change towards poorer people and they can break down these divisions that somehow exist between people with knowledge and means and those without it. I hope that each man and woman can be valued for who they are and not what they do or what class of society they were born into. Infact I hope that the whole idea of a caste system gradually disappears into the shimmering Indian sunset. That is my larger dream for India. Luckily there is some hope and good people are working here towards the goal of a fairer society. I see it everyday.

In the meantime I will continue to at least acknowledge this man and treat him with the respect he deserves. I may even give him a hand one of these days; or at least try!

On second thought, Kolkata

tjrossi — Sun, 29 Sep 2013 23:28:00 GMT

To the uninitiated Kolkata seems a city of pure chaos. At least that was my first impression.

Every type of transport jockeys for position on narrow streets with little or no pavements. To get from A to B on foot you experience an incredible amount of tooting and hollering. Motorbikes come up behind, rickshaw men call out to get by and drivers of larger vehicles produce an almost arrogant blast on the horn, all in the expectation that you move aside. It seems you need to always keep half an eye on what is coming up behind you lest you are clipped or run over.

If there is pavement it is often broken up, half paved, half dirt. Like the bricks gradually disappeared and no one bothered to replace them. People ply their various trades on the footpath and block it, driving pedestrians onto the busy, narrow road, which adds to the chaos. To travel inside a vehicle is to experience, perhaps for the first time, the sensation of being in a traffic accident - hopefully without it actually occurring. So chaotic is the situation on the road that there is often a close call or two on each journey. There is a moment just before the perceived impact where your vehicle is so nearly struck by another that you believe subconsciously it is inevitable and you brace. It's an odd sensation.

Then there's the stench and the reality of lives lived on the street. Rubbish is heaped on street corners. Lazy un-neutered dogs wander around; some with nasty cuts and infections. People live under makeshift shelters, cooking meals and washing by the roadside. Sections of the poor make a living from begging and every kind of human misery appears to have great need of assistance. Mothers with babies, the decrepit, and the disabled reach out their hands in desperation. To pay each is impossible, to ignore them is difficult and it is a constant challenge to your conscience.

Kolkata is one of the last places in India you can still get a ride from a human powered Rickshaw. Men work like dogs pulling their chariots in the heat with only the sheer force of their legs through the markets. These men are born to their trade and have a definite nobility about them despite being from a low caste. Apparently their life expectancy is significantly reduced by their exhausting work. Watching them cart huge loads, upper class Indians or tourists rings alarm-bells of injustice in your head. It can be a shocking place for a first time visitor. At difficult times a voice in my head told me 'you don't have to be here, there are much nicer places to spend your time'. Luckily experience has taught me to look beyond my first impression and realise that although city life in Kolkata seemed rough it would only take a few days to become street-wise and feel more comfortable in my new surroundings.

There are two sides to every story and it seems this city is no exception.

Although it seemed initially that drivers operate on some kind of sonar: alerting vehicles and pedestrians of their presence with noise alone, you eventually notice that they are working within a system and that the majority are very skilled in negotiating narrow roads in heavy traffic. After a few days on foot you get used to it and realise no one will actually run you over. It's certainly just too much hassle for them as much as anything. The constant beeping is something you become attuned to and a honk or hiss from a Rickshaw Wallah is your signal to step aside and let them by. No harm, no foul. Short of outlawing vehicles in the city I can't see a better way to run things here with the condition of the streets and the sheer amount of people.

Those same small stalls that block the pavement are the city's lifeblood. Small business is alive - with markets, food stalls, chai stalls, currency exchange, tour guides, rickshaws and taxis everywhere you turn. The food is an unadulterated delight with every sort of curry and fried delicacy abounding. Some of the sounds you smell are so delicious is it unbelievable especially after the other aromas you detect along the way.

Yes, in commercial or tourist areas touts do vie for your attention and it can be annoying. They tend to come across either as very curious or overly friendly to get you talking before leading you to their shop or a colleagues for commission. This is mostly harmless and often quite helpful in the marketplace - which can be a maze to the uninitiated. For the price of a few rupees more in commission you find your product quickly and without much fuss. However if you decline their offers, once you begin to get followed you realise a calm, polite response may not be sufficient. This is also something you learn how to deal with.

The kindness and genuine curiousity of everyday people though, outshines the irritation of the touts on the street. Small children smile and say hello. Old men sit and have tea with you at chai stalls and everybody is curious about who you are and where you are from. 'You are welcome in Kolkata' was something I heard several times in my first day or two.

Begging is definitely a problem. According to locals much of this is controlled by organised crime. Those on the streets are given a retainer and pay the lion's share of any revenue collected to gangs. This includes babies and children being hired and their families reimbursed for their time. It is better then to ignore these people and pay a donation to one of the many fine charitable organisations who literally stitch people each day or educate the children of the streets. That is easier said than done but it will help to prevent perpetuation of this cycle in the long run. It's also worth mentioning, and remembering, that there seems a strong cultural element to this behaviour. If you are born into a low caste and your parents begged it is believed to be your fate to beg and others will ensure you have enough to get by. This benefits the beggar and provides good karma for the donor too.

Life seems harsh for the Rickshaw men but they provide a great service in the crowded old city where they can negotiate gaps too big for other vehicles. During the monsoon floods they are especially in demand and besides if you take away their rickshaws (often all they own) how can they earn their living? Taking a ride on one of them supports their business and helps them live so it is hard to criticize their passengers. Besides this point is now moot as no new licenses will be granted in Kolkata on ethical grounds. How the men, let alone the markets will survive in future is unclear to me.

In short Kolkata, like India, is a conundrum. Maybe that's why it is so interesting for a curious traveller like myself. There are two sides to this place and while it seemed clear prior to arrival it was a place that deserved my pity or assistance that is not so clear now. People get by, people live in harsh conditions but become accustomed to them and still seem to derive enjoyment and fulfillment in their lives. Things could certainly be better but there is a lot of good in this place and a lot that can be valued besides what you can see on the surface.

Arrival in Kolkata

tjrossi — Sun, 29 Sep 2013 23:15:00 GMT

Arriving in Kolkata at around 1am in the morning wasn't as daunting as I had expected. I had met up with Ray on the plane; an Australian planning a cycle trip of northern India. After waiting for quite some time for our bags we went outside to the police box to register for a metered taxi. A group of local drivers were hanging around their cars and although I couldn't understand them their manner was a little mocking towards us. It was all harmless and infact they reminded me of nothing more than a group of teenage boys. Eventually one agreed to take us and we arranged a trip in one of the ubiquitous Kolkata Ambassador yellow cabs that have wind down windows, no seatbelts and look about 50 years old in design. I really liked them.

The trip was about 30 minutes on bumpy uneven roads, dimly lit with inadequate or no street-lighting. Outside many slept on the streets under makeshift shelters, on top of their cars, even on top of old buses. There were also men carting stuff around by rickshaw like horses and others with massive bicycle loads. With sweat dripping off them, they were a picture of determination.

It was a pretty intense first glimpse of Kolkata and when the driver picked up a man by the roadside saying he didn't know where the street was I knew something was coming. The friend naturally led him to the right street (just around the corner) then when we got out they both asked for tips. It was not unexpected. We declined, paid the agreed fare and parted ways. It was good to get inside the hotel and it left me apprehensive as to what India had in store for me the following morning.

India pre-departure

tjrossi — Thu, 29 Aug 2013 12:32:00 GMT

With my arrival in Kolkata drawing closer I thought a pre-travel entry would be a good opportunity to test out the new URL at worldnomads.com and kick off my blog.

This trip will satisfy two desires I’ve held for a long time; firstly to explore a country which has lived long in my imagination and secondly to do some volunteer work in the developing world.

Volunteering overseas is something I always thought I would do but haven’t ‘gotten around to’ and I have come to the realisation it’s something I have to do at least once in my life. When you travel you do more keenly feel the deep inequalities that exist in many parts of the world. Travelling around Eastern Europe, Russia and the Middle East for a large part of 2011, one feeling I was left with was that I could have done more for the local people I met, I could have gotten more involved in their day to day lives and I could have made more lasting connections with local people. Despite the on-going debate about the rights and wrongs of western volunteerism and charity in the developing world I think it’s time for me to step up, experience it for myself and try to do some good.

Two months in Delhi helping out at Salaam Balaak Trust http://www.salaambaalaktrust.com/ should give me a good chance to connect with people and provide my time to those who could use it. To give some background around this - literally millions of children live on the streets of urban India. The trust aims to combat this severe problem in Delhi by providing education, activities, vocational training and in some cases shelter to children and young people who are essentially fending for themselves in the city.

A natural question to ask is how do all of these children end up on the street. Each child has their own story; some are orphans, some are runaways from abuse or forced labour, still others arrive from impoverished rural backgrounds in the hope of a better life. Many eke out a living by picking through rubbish for recycling or working in small businesses like chai stalls. Regardless of how they get there they are prime targets for unscrupulous people who would take advantage and many end up in some form of illegal activity.

Salaam Balaak Trust (SBT) tries to give children like these options and opportunities, while at the same time providing a chance to experience childhood while they can. If you’re interested some stories from children at SBT can be accessed at http://www.friendsofsbt.org/stories

Although I’m not overly qualified and my time is limited, at the very least I can provide another pair of hands to support this organisation and show solidarity with people doing such good work. I’m not sure how much of an impact I can make personally but I will be a cog in the wheel and I’m looking forward to being a cog in the wheel of something as powerful as this.

Aside from the volunteer work I am very much looking forward to exploring this unique ancient country. I thought I would compile a list of things I hope to do while in India and although it is by no means exhaustive I think it goes some way to explaining my motivations.

So, here we go, in no particular order:

Eat delicious, authentic curry
Play street cricket, beach cricket and everywhere cricket
Visit Temples, Mosques, Palaces and Gurdwala
Blend in by growing a moustache
Visit rural people to see how they live
Speak some Hindi
Test the subcontinent pitches playing club cricket in Delhi
Visit an Ashram
See a Tiger in the wild
Learn more about yoga and meditation
Research my Rossiter family history (with two ancestors born in the Punjab)
Hopefully improve my Karma!

Wish me luck!

Namaste

Photos: Tim

tjrossi — Fri, 9 Aug 2013 13:22:00 GMT