Being yourself

getting rural

It struck me a few days ago that I am going to be spending no more than a third of this trip in an Indian metropolis, the rest all being in rural parts of India. Mahatma Gandhi said that India lives in its villages. This is still true. Over 70% of the Indian population lives in villages. So, I am figuring that getting rural is giving me a feel for the India that is known to a majority. The cities are indeed a slice of India known to only a small privileged minority of the billion.

So, what is rural India like? Or, rather, what is it like in the southern part of the country. For one the roads are smaller and potholed. The homes are more hut-like – made of mud and with thatch roofs. A lot of the land is undeveloped or used for agriculture. Rice, millet, corn and a few other crops are the main staples. You see men and women, wading through knee deep water, weeding and tilling in paddy fields. Sounds like Vietnam, doesn’t it? It is something like that except that in southern India, the landscape is way dryer. The food is simple – nothing like the curries served in westernized Indian restaurants. Daal, a simple stir-fried vegetable, roti and some rice are the main dishes in every meal.

People transport themselves in whatever they can find – a bicycle, a two wheeler, a cycle rickshaw or a three wheeler which is the cab of rural India. This little vehicle (smaller than a Mini Cooper) transports as many or more than 12 people at a time. Yes, I said 12. A couple of people are always hanging on the outside, with only their feet touching the rickshaw floor. We passed one of these yesterday. There were 3 of us seated in a Toyota Innova (the Indian equivalent of a Toyota Sienna). The folks in the rickshaw looked at us like we were nuts! What would 3 people need so much space for! I could just see their minds bubbling with thoughts of how 25 of them could travel in a Toyota Innova.

There is much more to rural India. I will spill more as the days unfold …

Vikasana: Day 2

I visited Vikasana again, this time when the school was in session. As I arrived, I was led into one of the circular classrooms where the group of 37 students and 6 teachers were joined in singing. The children sat cross-legged their bright faces emoting as they sang Kannada (local language), Hindi and English songs. The children all come from very poor homes. So, I expected their appearance to betray this fact. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised by their clean and neat appearance. Hair neatly combined and clothes clean if not always free of minor tears. They all sang, whether or not they knew all the words. I was amazed when they sang On the wagon and Edelwies. Their book also had Puff The Magic Dragon.

They sang together for about 40 minutes and then rose to complete some cleaning duties before starting their first group class for the day. As they rose, I was amazed how they all went on to their cleaning duties without having to be told or reminded. I observed this to be their mode of working all throughout the day. Even the 3 year olds, got on right away to folding the mats they were sitting on. They were so keen to do this that sometimes two of them folded the same mat from opposite ends, meeting in the middle and then giggling.

I started by sitting in the little ones’ class. They started with “creeping and crawling”, one of their yoga exercises. This was followed by jumping, then head rolls and so on. They did yoga for 20 minutes including some meditation that ended with Aum breathing exercises. Seeing 3-4 year olds doing Yoga is a real treat!

Next, I walked around to take some pictures when I was pulled aside by a group of 11-13 year olds. Sunil, Asha and Mani wanted to know where I was from and what I did. I told them about PSCS. The conversation soon digressed to why they liked Vikasana – because it offered many more activities like gardening, handicrafts, singing, pottery than other schools, because they have more freedom to study how they want. The 3 of them were clearly very grateful for what they have at Vikasana. They told me of how they get up on their own at 5 every morning and do Yoga. Then they read the Bhagwat Gita in Sanskrut. This surprised me. I asked them if they understood the Gita. They said they didn’t always. I asked them what they did when they didn’t understand it. They said they would read a translation or ask Malati akka. I asked them why they read it even if they didn’t always understand it. To this, Asha turned to me and asked me why they should read Math books. I told her I didn’t know why any better than she knew why. Then Mani turned to me and said that Math will help him when he does a job. Asha promptly followed by saying that the Gita will also help them as they move forward in life. I was amazed by their questions and willingness to engage in such an open conversation with a complete stranger. Asha, Sunil and Mani then went on to work on their Math, sitting at a 3 foot tall table under the shade of trees. Classes are often conducted outdoors, thus providing enough interruption from nature. Being amidst nature as much as possible, watching it, learning from it are integral to learning at Vikasana.

Soon after this, it was break time. All the children came out to the central play area, drank a malt drink made from several grains and then went on to play. Little ones and big ones mingled. The giggles and yells of children filled the air. Some of them climbed trees, others hassled with my camera. They created a game by asking me to take their pictures and then wanting to spot themselves in the digital preview. 

As break came to an end, I made my way to a social studies class for the oldest (15 – 16 year old) children in the school. They all sat on the floor, in a semi-circle around the teacher. They were learning about Indian National Goals as identified in the Indian constitution and laws. The medium of instruction went back and forth between English and Kannada. While the children all understand English, they are not completely comfortable speaking it. I made sense of their discussion based on the context. Manjunath, the teacher took every effort to make the material relevant to the students. When they talked about National Integration as being one of the goals, he walked them through how the Indian cricket team is formed and how it represents several communities. When they talked about the Empowerment of Women, he asked the girls in the class what that meant to them. They identified with not being dominated by men. He then cited a recent news story of Masoom (an actress) who said that there is nothing wrong with pre-marital sex. He asked the girls what they thought of this. They said that they thought pre-marital sex was wrong. He then asked them why. They got into a discussion on issues around promiscuity and AIDS. Manjunath made the subject matter so simple. He kid around with his students. A general air of freedom and laughter pervaded the class.

By this time, it was time for lunch. I ate with Malati akka, sitting on the floor like we do in India, eating rice and daal with my hands. It was by far one of the best meals I have eaten in days. After a while, restaurant food gets old. I long for homemade food.

I ended my Vikasana visit watching the children play cricket. Boys, girls, young and older all played. It was a delight to hear them scream in delight on catching the ball, giggle as they missed hitting it or getting indignant when they got out.

While it is hard to pinpoint all the things I took away from my experience at Vikasana, 2 things stand out – The children are hard working and diligent in all regards from studying to cleaning. I asked many of the teachers why that is so. I also asked Sunil about this at one point. They say that this is so because education is the only way for them to have a better life than their parents’. It also raises their social status and earns them respect as Sunil said.   

The other thing that stands out is how open the children are. I was touched by how they welcomed me into their groups and activities. They would come around and find me to join them in play, for lunch or to be part of a class. I wondered why. Something that Chitra said to me comes to mind – a well-protected heart (one that has emotional security) doesn’t need anything, whereas a needy heart is open, seeking affection and care wherever it can get it. Perhaps, this is why the children of Vikasana are so open and friendly. Whatever the reason, I came away feeling warm. Their faces are now etched on my mind. I will remember them for a long time to come.

Vikasana

I am in Bangalore now. I came here primarily to visit with some alternative schools. Having taught at an alternative school in the US, I have been intrigued to know about alternative education in India. Given that Indian culture tends to be conservative, I have been skeptical of alternative education in India. To my surprise, I am learning that alternative approaches are rapidly increasing in India. The effort is coming from educationists and social workers that have a background in Indian philosophy and a sense of desperation around the poor quality of modern Indian education. By most standards, modern Indian education is no different from modern education in any other part of the world. That is the problem.

Today, I visited Vikasana. The school was closed so I wanted to take the opportunity to meet with the founder before I see the school in session tomorrow. Malati (or Malati akka, roughly translated to older sister Malati, as most people call her) is the heart and soul of Vikasana. Malati started Vikasana over 25 years ago. She was a student of David Horsburg, a pioneer in alternative education. It was David’s wish that his students would go on to start schools based on his approach. Malati did just that.

Vikasana is a school for poor children of local farmers. Today the school has 40 children between the ages of 3-16. They come to school before 9 am and leave after 5 pm. Some of the children walk as many as 5 miles one way to get to the school. They learn in groups of similar aged children, each group led by one teacher. The school has 4 teachers other than Malati and so there are 4 groups. The education is free and the school relies on donations from organizations like Asha. The children are required to bring their own writing books, pencils and a lunch.

The curriculum taught is open and flexible. It is academically oriented but the approach is unique. As Malati says, the goal is to expose children to the knowledge that exists in the world but to do it in a way that makes it relevant to them. There is no point in teaching a child to do addition if she doesn’t know how addition is useful and relevant to her. Further, the idea is to help children develop their own learning capacity and style with the material being taught serving only to spark their inner learning approach.

All of this seems to be possible because of who Malati is and the kind of space Vikasana is located in. Malati is energetic, very intelligent and tuned into understanding the workings of her own thought processes especially the tricky nature of the human ego. She is simple, open and full of love. She seems to believe that love alone can teach. Her years of dedication and work at Vikasana are testimony to this. Vikasana started in a single cottage-like structure that Malati, David Horsburg and the students built. They added another structure that serves as Malati’s home. The structures are made from local fire-kilned clay bricks, finished with soil from ant hills and cow dung. The roofs are made with clay tiles. They look like single room cottages. They are small (about 12x10 feet) using only as much land as needed, thus leaving the natural vegetation around intact. About 5 structures exist now, several of which have been built by the students themselves. One structure is particularly unique – is a short dome – about 6 feet high and 8 feet in diameter, built from mud and bricks. It was built as part of an experiment for the children to learn how to build a dome using the least amount of money possible. They got Rs. 260 ($5) for it. The completed structure has been in place for 8 years now. The outside is decorated by the children using stones, glass pieces and waste materials. Today, the inside is used by the children to eat their lunch (on a rainy day) and play.  All of the school cottages are cleaned and maintained by the students. I was curious how willing the students are about cleaning. Malati told me that they cannot seem to wait to clean, especially on Fridays when they do their big weekly clean up. That seems unbelievable to me. Malati says that it seems to happen that way because that is just what they do at that time on Friday and everyone does it, including her. She also says that the students appreciate returning on Monday to a clean classroom. It is my guess that it also works because each student group has a cottage for their use. They must feel a sense of belonging to that space.

The space between structures is filled with local vegetation and place for animals. Dogs, cats, monkeys and at one point rabbits and tortoises inhabited. The grounds also house a water well and a tall ant hill. Malati has worked hard to leave the space as she found it and to let nature take its course.

I spent about 2 hours with Malati. We talked on the philosophy of education, in particular what she does at Vikasana. She showed me the space and told me of the children. Tomorrow, I will return to see the school in session. As you might guess, I just cannot wait …

Shillong: an Indian land like no other

I had the opportunity to spend 5 days in Shillong. I came away convinced that there is no end to the diversity in India. Shillong is a place like no other with few similarities to the rest of India.

Situated in a hilly north eastern corner of India, Shillong is located less than 100 kms from the border with Bangladesh. It is also close to China and this factor is what makes it so different from the rest of India. To begin with, the people of Shillong have mongoloid features. Many of them are Chinese. They eat pork and beef, making them one of the few communities that eat those 2 meats in India. The women wrap a sarong-like cloth over more usual clothing like pants and shirts. Tucked away in the sarong are their children who they carry on their backs. The population is very poor. The few wealthy and the poor live side-by-side. This makes it so no part of Shillong is yuppie. The people eat both Chinese and Indian food. Restaurants serve both cuisines, sometimes in the same meal. I ate some delicious ginger prawns with naan!

The weather is an unusual combination of being tropical and cold both at the same time. The vegetation tells the story of the weather. Plantains grow next to pines interspersed with cherry blossom-like trees. The sun beats down through thinner atmospheric layers as a cool wind brings on clouds in the fading light of day. It rains all throughout the year. That is no surprise as Shillong is located about 60 kms away from the wettest place on earth -- Cheerapunji. The hills of Cheerapunji force the eastward blowing Bangladeshi air to drop all its moisture.

In the 5 days that I was in Shillong, I touristed around very little. I spent time with some of the locals who would tell me that there wasn't a lot to see. I think they were wrong -- everything that was there, just as it was, where it was, was more than enough to see.

eternal vigilance

We spent over an hour and half covering a distance of about 7 miles in Bombay. That is how bad the traffic situation is in this mega metropolis. As my initial irritation with the situation gave way to curiosity, I noticed the utterly chaotic nature of the traffic. The vehicles are of all shapes and sizes ranging from pedestrians, bicycles and 3 wheeler auto-rickshaws to compact cars, SUVs, trucks and buses. There are no designated lanes, no speed limits, no yielding and no right of way. Stop lights exist and observing them is the only rule that anyone seems to follow. Past that, driving in Bombay is the most chaotic race. It is exactly that, a race. Everyone is trying to get ahead of the other, whether or not there is space to do so. The idea seems to be that if you nudge ahead others will have to make way for you. Surprisingly, that is exactly what happens. The problem however is that everyone is trying to nudge and so utterly knotted jams are four a junction.

What is remarkable in this jam of all jams is the scarcity of accidents. Nobody is moving at more than 10 mph so that eliminates the possibility of fatal accidents. One would imagine though that rear-endings and the occasional bumping would happen all the time but they don’t. That fascinates me. I have heard of more accidents in an hour and half of rush hour traffic in Seattle and most people in Seattle are following rules. How come? The reason I think it works out this way is that while nobody is following any rules in the Bombay traffic, everyone is utterly alert, focused on every little nudge to be made. They are not relying on anyone following any rules and so they are all looking out.

Rules let us sleep. In the absence of rules, eternal vigilance is what keeps a system working. I have realized this before but never did I imagine that I would see it in action in a situation so chaotic as the Bombay traffic.

to change but to not change

As we landed at Calcutta airport I noticed how static the airport was. The sign boards (for the check-in counter, departure and so on) brought this to my attention. They boards were all old style, made from wood or plastic, hand-painted and hanging in what looked like the first spots they were put up in. It made me realize how much of Indian infrastructure is built to never change. In a country that is leading changes in the world of technology, it is ironic to see infrastructure that is over 50 years old. I immediately drew a comparison to how things are in the US. In the US, infrastructure seems to be built with the view that it will have to change some day and so the design and plans should account for the ease to make changes. In India, the view seems to be that things will never need to change. So, even today, airport signs are made from durable plastic and hung from ceilings, the information on the boards is hand-painted, even instructions on airplane seats are hand-painted. Few electronic displays are sprinkled amidst structures of solid wood, brick and plastic.

All of these observations, made me wonder as to the cause of the seeming dichotomy between built-to-be-forever infrastructure and the rapidly changing Indian technological scene. They seem at odds with each other – like the hare and the tortoise – fast and slow both in the same race. While I have no factual information to explain the irony, I have some speculations. For one, a small proportion of the Indian population is involved in the world of technology. A majority of the population continues to be agriculturally occupied, living outside the major metropolises where the technological changes are happening. A significant proportion of those involved with technology are 30 something or younger. They don’t however account for a significant percentage of the overall population. The 45 something and over likely form a significant portion of the demographic and those folks are staying with the old ways.

Beyond speculations around the nature of the demographic are reasons stemming from the India psyche. Take for example the growing cell phone market in India. It is one of the fastest growing markets in the world. It is interesting however to note what people are using cell phones for. The most striking example is that of a worship service that allows users to pray and make offerings to deities using cell phones. That is a classic example of how tradition continues to be the center of what might seem like a rapidly changing country and culture. The Indian psyche is rooted in a history over 4000 years old. Multiple generations of genetic programming have deeply encoded a psyche that is steeped in tradition. We sure don’t have the technology to change that genetic encoding.

I continue to marvel at yet another point of tremendous diversity that is the hallmark of this unique country.

haves and have nots

As we finally boarded our flight, it occurred to me that the separation between First Class and Economy passengers is one of the “Haves” v/s the “Have nots”. I didn’t make much of it then. After a few hours of sleeping, I awoke to an urgent need to visit the facilities. Seeing that all the restrooms on the Economy side of the aircraft were occupied, I made my way to the First Class. As I walked through the guarded passways, a hostess promptly told me that I could not use the First Class facilities and needed to return to the economy section. Up until those moments, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I might be refused the use of the restroom in the First Class section. Now that I had been refused, I felt ashamed and horrified. I imagine I felt a little bit of what a colored person may have felt in the 1950s (or even feels today).

In the time that followed, I began to ponder whether and how our societies perpetuate economic discrimination. Before I go too far, let me clarify what I mean by economic discrimination. It seems only fair that every human born on earth should have an equal chance at basic survival which in turn I define as reasonable access to food, water, shelter and health care. Economic discrimination occurs when this equal chance is diminished for those with lesser economic power by those that have greater economic power. At first thought, this may seem inconsistent with being rewarded for effort. If someone works hard and in turn is compensated well economically, have they then not earned the right to a life beyond the basics? Surely they have. If this is to hold in all situations, then does economic discrimination even exist? Isn’t everyone just affording what they have earned? Not really. Economic discrimination exists not because everyone is simply affording in commensuration with their earnings. Rather, it exists because those with greater monetary viability prevent or make it harder for those with less from being able to earn up to their potential. 

Life all over the world is rife with examples of this. Take for instance the recent push by the mayor of Seattle to bring more high-rise residential living into the center of the city. Among many other outcomes, this would mean that only the economically wealthy would be able to live in downtown thus pushing out the poorer groups. The pushed out group would include many that have jobs in downtown. They would all have to commute longer and harder to get to their jobs. Overall, life would get harder for the economically disadvantaged. 9000 miles away, another form of the same discrimination perpetuates. Most all Indian schools require parents of applying children to have a clean criminal history. This inevitably implies that the children of prostitutes are not accepted by most schools. This makes it hard if not impossible for these children to make choices that are different from their parents. This is why most girls born to prostitutes end up becoming prostitutes as well.

As I thought of all these examples, my attention turned back to my own experience. I realized that my experience was one of a “have” complaining about other “haves”. That paled it and the comparison to the 1950s just didn’t fit. It had however sparked in me the question of how my choices were perpetuating economic discrimination. I continue to ponder …

delays-velays

We got to Sea-tac to learn that our United flight to LA had been delayed by an hour. We were scheduled to catch our flight to Bombay from LA. An hour delay meant that we had only an hour at LAX to make the flight to Bombay. That was tight! It was possible. An hour later, we learnt that the flight had been delayed by 2 more hours. This meant that we were not going to catch our flight in LA. A whole new host of problems. We needed to find a new way to get to Bombay!

I was flustered for a bit but then something reassured me -- I don't know what it was. I felt calm and was clear in my mind that I could get United to re-book us on a new set of flights. I didn't really pause to think whether it was possible. I just knew it had to happen. There had to be a way for things to turn out right. I presented our situation to the gentleman at the ticket counter. He seemed concerned and got to work right away. Phone call after phone ensued. I stayed put and clearly stated my expectation -- since we had missed all our flights due to the delay of a United flight, it only seemed right that United re-book us to Bombay. He searched high and low. Then an hour later, he found us a flight and we were re-booked. I smiled and requested that we be put up in a hotel for the night so we can reach the airport early in time for our flight tomorrow. He looked it me like I was kidding. I smiled and he went away to look into it. A few minutes later, we had a voucher to a hotel close to the airport.

Two hours and 30 minutes later, I am sitting in a clean hotel room with free internet connectivity and looking forward to tomorrow. I have learnt that getting re-booked on international flights is rare and hard. I have also learnt that things are possible when you stay calm and clear.

its time to go ?home?

I have been in the US for close to a decade now. In all this time, I have not been able to call it my "home". "Home" is India, specifically, being amidst my family resting my head on my grandmother's lap. As I write these words, I get that feeling, that feeling of absolute comfort in which nothing can shake me. As my thoughts fleet, I realize that another place and people have started making me feel at home. It wasn't like this for a long time.

I came to the US, a starry-eyed 22 year-old, wanting to learn and travel. I did exactly that - I learnt a lot through graduate school, my job at Microsoft and the personal experiences I chose. I traveled widely. I challenged myself to expand my horizons by doing things I never had before. The american culture provides ample opportunities to explore and boy did I exploit each one I came across. While I did all this, I never felt comfortable with what seemed like one of the dominant values of the culture -- Individuality. I value Individuality, but exactly that, what it literally means -- "in-divisble" or not separate from the rest. Popular culture seems to promote the exact opposite -- separation of one person from the other. That bothered me. It made it hard for me to connect with people in the US. So, I did not feel at "home".

Then, I left Microsoft and a lifestyle of mainstream america. As I joined the PSCS community I felt reconnected to my own values -- compassion, lots of love, honesty, service - lots of it, passion and so on. What was interesting was that Microsoft believed in these values too but they were upheld in a manner dramatically different from how it all unfolds at PSCS. For a while, I just couldn't believe I had found PSCS. Then, for a while, I focused on being a teacher at PSCS. Then, I focused on being a "good" teacher at PSCS. As my first year came to a close and I stepped back to see what had happened, I realized that what I was really beginning to learn was being a human being in close connection with other human beings. I had found a community that was beginning to feel like family. I returned this fall yearning to see the students and staff. We were reunited! In the past 9 weeks, I have started feeling more and more at "home" with the group hug I got on Friday being its culmination. Just as I feel this, it is time to leave. Oh, why can't I have what I have here and what awaits me in India?

It is now less than 24 hours before I leave for India. It is the first bitter-sweet departure in over 9 years. The sweet part is that I am about to embark on a journey that is every non-resident Indian's dream come true. To live part of the year in India and part of it in the US. We are a generation of souls caught between two lands. India is still home but we cannot not call the US our home. I think I am beginning to see where I stand in this divide -- India is still home and PSCS is becoming my home. That is the bitter part.

I don't know what that means for me calling the US my home. The next 10 weeks will tell me some more ...

the golden years

You know how sometimes, you have an experience that touches you deep within. Words fail in describing such experiences -- they are inspiring, enlivening, emotional, leaving us in a happy state. I had one of those this week. It was special.

One of the key values of PSCS is Service. In keeping with this, we get out every Wednesday to do community service. This week we went to the Ida Culver home for elders. The plan was to spend an hour mingling with elders and trying to get a sense for whether we could do some projects together. As we settled into our seats for a brief opening introduction, my eyes settled on a frail, white-haired woman. She sat upright and alert, actively responding to the introduction. She had an aura of alertness about her. I was drawn to her. So, when we were told to go ahead and mingle, I made my way to her and introduced myself. She said her name was Juliana. She had a european accent that I tried to place. She then told me she was from southern Germany. We eased into a conversation during which she told me how she had come to the US and what had brought her to Ida Culver. She gathered that I was Indian by origin and so started talking about "outsourcing". She had read Flat World. I was floored by this, especially because Juliana is almost blind. She asked about PSCS and "got it" right away. Not just that, she expounded on the merits of self-directed, experiential education. By this time, any remaining traces of a generational gap had disappeared between us. I was enchanted by Juliana. She was full of life with a twinkle in her eye and a rapidity in her motions that would make a 14 year old blush. It was then that it struck me that Juliana was probably like this because she wanted to be like this. She had probably chosen to be awake, open, alive, learning and spritely. How else could one explain a 95 year old who is sharper than a razor's edge? I left inspired with the thought that you can choose how you want to be. Age is no factor.