MARAG – October 14 to 16

By midday 8 students left with our MARAG representative Mona to visit the MARAG villages. MARAG works in more than 300 villages across India working on education and social issues, particularly with women and children and the Maldhari people. Maldhari's are landless pastoralists who earn their livelihood by using public lands to graze cattle. Increasingly, Maldhari's are losing their grazing land to development and industrialization.

We visited two villages the first day and a village and farm the second day. Our two days with MARAG cannot be summed up in a short blog post. We learned so much about the issues of access to education, child marriage, migratory patterns, and the Maldhari way of life. MARAG works tirelessly in these areas and over the last 15 years have really made inroads into what is traditionally a very disconnected population from the rest of society, but who are fiercely protective of their way of life. These are the marginalized of the marginalized.

After two days of being fed, chaperoned, translated, chauffeured, and taught, we met with the Director of MARAG, Laljit, who provided much more of the context of MARAG and demonstrated how they are using development communication and advocacy to drive changes in the villages. Laljit told story after story of their successes, as well as some things they'd do differently. Overall MARAG seems to be the textbook example on how to engage and act as a facilitator so those on the outskirts of society can take control and solve their own problems, on their own terms.

My reflections on this "authentic" experience

The experience of the last few days feels overwhelmingly one-sided; I feel that I am getting so much more out of this experience than I'm giving back. Perhaps it's a Canadian thing, perhaps it's a Western mindset, but as students we almost have a sense of guilt for receiving so much and giving nothing in return (though our instructors would argue that our presence alone does not go unheeded). All I can do is be intensely grateful for all the time, energy, and generosity we've received from the people who have made our experiences memorable so far.

Visiting villages in the countryside would probably be looked upon with awe by other tourists as we saw what some might consider the "real" India -- a common quest among tourists. I use that term somewhat ironically, because one of the things I learned was that authenticity is not a specific state, but a matter of degrees. Authenticity, or the "real" India, is a construct -- it's how we project our own images and ideas onto what we are observing. Are the piles of garbage on the road the real India, or is it the home cooked meal at an Indian's home? Certainly, there is a trueness of culture -- the languages spoken, the dances performed, how Indians themselves might view their culture; my only opportunity to experience this cultural authenticity is to remove all the identifiers of my identity as a tourist and Canadian. From everything from my race to how I was educated to how the fillings look in my teeth separates me from Indians. We may find plenty of common understanding over time, but when an old village woman walks straight up to me and lifts her saree to show me all the Hindi symbols tattooed up and down her arms and legs, she knew exactly what would interest me. In a sense, she was feeding into what she thought I wanted to see. After our MARAG visit, I felt a little closer to understanding village life, but realized even more how distanced I was from it.

Gujerat University– October 14

An important part of Indian culture is the welcoming of guests, which was clearly demonstrated in our visit to the students of the Masters in Development Communication program at Gujerat University.   Drums, flower petals, blessings, gifts, tea, more gifts ... we felt incredibly honoured. 

Something that struck me was the formality of it—official introductions, presentations, photographers, video, a meeting with the university's vice-chancellor.  We were even in the daily paper the following day—not a small honour considering the paper serves a population of 5 million people.  And here we just thought we'd drop by the university for a quick hello . . .   

Centre for Environment Education and Navritri Festival – October 13

The focus of our work in Ahmedabad is around development communication.  Development communication goes beyond the typical products such as brochures or websites; it's a way to engage and foster participation so the community takes control of their own development issues. Rather than top down, it's bottom up. 

Each student, before we arrived, self selected into a group to work with a specific NGO. I chose MARAG (which I'll get in to later), but before we set out with them the Centre for Environment Education (CEE) invited everyone to their offices for an overview of their work.

I wasn't sure what to expect, but what I heard from CEE challenged any lingering preconceptions I had about the sophistication of an Indian NGO.  The Indian dichotomy is almost becoming cliché; extreme poverty and the so called "undeveloped" society is very visible, yet here we were at CEE hearing from experts with multiple Masters degrees teaching us about how they use communication for development in everything from policy development at government to water issues.  CEE's director summed up their approach: "development is a thought process on solving problems. We need critical thinking and need to travel on an uncharted path."   We could learn a thing or two from them.

Our time has not been all work, however. The Navritri festival is nine nights of dancing in the state of Gujerat, honouring the goddess Durga.  Somehow we found ourselves at one of the larger events. Quite simply, I've never seen anything like it as hundreds of people performed traditional Garba dances in Navritri costumes until the wee hours.  As the only foreigners in attendance, once again we were wonderfully welcomed and the object of some curiosity, particularly from the kids.   

Ahmedabad, Gujerat state, India – October 12

Arriving in Ahmedabad was like arriving in India for the first time all over again.  While it was wonderful to see all our classmates again in situ, I couldn't help but feel somewhat disconnected from the Indian experience.  My first meditation explored this.  How was I, staying in a beautiful hotel by Western standards, with its security guards, uniformed staff, and front gates, detached from Indian society? For me it was the separation not only of space (the physical distance and lack of access to the hotel from regular society), but also the sense of privilege I felt.  I am by no means wealthy, but I can afford to spend a night or two in a posh hotel back home or have a nice dinner out.  Our hotel in Ahmedabad is rather affordable by Canadian standards (about $80 a night) but disconcerting to know that the vast majority of Indians would never be able to stay there, even on a splurge.  

While change is difficult, I seem to have increased my resilience to change as I quickly adjusted to my new environment of fluffy duvets, central air, spacious room, and hot water shower.  J

Driving tips for India

When visiting a new place, tourists often comment on the most notable characteristics – the rain in Vancouver, the expense of London, the beauty of Paris. While India has many attributes that warrant comment, none seem as dominant as the traffic chaos.

Here are some handy tips for passengers who may be confused by the driving system. (Note that visitors attempting to drive themselves should ensure their life insurance is up to date.)

- Lane markers on roads are simply a guideline and need not be followed. As are red lights. And pretty much any other sign.

- For the most part, the largest vehicle has right of way. However, this can be confusing because camels pulling carts can be very large and I have yet to discern if this rule applies.

- Cows do not respond well (or at all) to incessant honking when they occupy the middle of the road.

- Driving is mostly on the left hand side of the road, except when they decide to drive on the right side.

- Standing in the middle of a three-lane highway, conducting some sort of business is acceptable, as is fitting your entire family on one motorcycle.

- Honking is its own language. There's the I'm-passing-you honk (quick beep), the angry honk (prolonged), the hello foreign lady honk (morse code-like beeps), and the unnecessary honk (simply because the driver is alone on the road and is missing the sound of his own horn, as its been at least 10 seconds since the last beep.)

The Pink City and camel riding

After another long hot drive, we arrived in Jaipur, the capital city of Rajasthan. It's known as the pink city because of prevalence of pink limestone in the architecture. Our hotel had a small swimming pool and a lovely rooftop restaurant with musicians who, after finishing, put on a puppet show. The next morning we were ready for some down time after our hectic pace, so opted to move on directly to the small town of Pushkar. However, Menta had other ideas. We had some difficulty communicating our wish to leave directly to Pushkar, as he may have either a) not understood why we wanted to leave so quickly, or b) felt it was his obligation to show us around. We were quite glad in the end as he took us to the Amber Fort, which was an amazing structure with reinforced walls that climbed up and down the hillsides, baths, ornately decorated rooms, and incredible views of the valley.

Pushkar was literally a breath of fresh air. It's a town of about 50,000 people and a sacred Hindu site, popular with Israeli tourists and a full stock of tourist amenities. It's also very walkable which is not something we'd experienced so far as usually walking anywhere here involves dodging potholes, debris, aggressive auto rickshaw drivers, cows, and poo. Our hotel, Master Choice, had a lovely garden and a pool in the back, which meant I now actually look like I've been somewhere slightly tropical. Pushkar is also on the edge of the desert which means sand everywhere and cooler nights. Not exactly long-sleeve weather, but at least the constant stream of sweat down your back stops when the sun goes down.

Being near the desert also means camels and camel treks. With four camels and four guides, we set off for a two hour walk. I've never ridden a camel before and can assure you it is nothing like riding a horse. It's harder to hang on when they run as you're bouncing around like a ping pong on a paddle, but at a gentle walk is quite tranquil, even meditative.

With a quick flight from Jaipur to Ahmedabad, we'd officially reached the end of our few days of holiday and the true purpose of our trip was about to begin—Royal Roads residency.

Menta, our driver, and the Taj Mahal.

We met Menta on the morning of October 6 when he picked us up to start our six day tour of Agra, Jaipur, and Pushkar. Nicholas decided to stay in Delhi but came down to meet our driver, say goodbye, and his concern for our safety to our driver. Nicholas is the size of a linebacker. Menta is the same size as me. I think it helped because not only was Menta watchful of our safety, he was a great driver; transportation on the roads warrants a full blog post onto itself.

Agra is about 250 km from Delhi. However, that distance is deceptive because it took nearly 7 hours, through a horrible traffic jam, blistering heat in a car with failing air conditioning, and a roadside stop. We chose the appropriately named Shanti Lodge for Rs 400 a night (about $9). While it was clean, it was shabby; the bathroom sink drained directly onto the floor and the air conditioner was an "air chiller" which consisted of an industrial sized fan encased in a bale of hay. We did, however, have a television, though Melissa noted, "I'd rather have t.p. than TV."

However, our choice of that hotel was based on the rooftop patio restaurant, which not only had a fantastic view of the Taj, it had great food. Getting our ticket to the Taj was an exercise in Indian bureaucracy as the ticket office is nowhere near the gate, but a fleet of rickshaw drivers are quite happy to take you the 1 km up the road to the office for a small fee. Upon reflection, I believe it was set up strategically this way to provide further employment for the poorest of the poor, which bicycle rickshaw drivers are. At the gate there are three more staff—one to check your ticket and make a mark on it, one to tear it, and another to stamp it. Again, further employment. With more than a billion people to employ, it makes sense to carve out roles where possible.

My reflections

Before I arrived in India I read a great book called "Tourists at the Taj" by Tim Edensor. He spent a few years studying tourists at the Taj Mahal and how they interacted, viewed, looked upon, and moved around this imposing monument. I was glad I'd read the book but something about my experience at the Taj, as wonderful as it was, was unsettling, as one of the things Edensor wrote about was how visitors follow a specific path, take pictures of the same things; painfully predictable (my words, not his.) I felt that Edensor was studying tourist behaviour, but wonder if his insights were somewhat short-sighted. I did much the same things he described, but not out of choice, as the spaces around the monument doesn't really allow for much creativity of movement--visitors much follow a defined path, rules, and are therefore limited in how they experience the building and surrounding areas. And with 35C+ heat, going early in the morning or later in the evening is not about getting the best light, it's about avoiding heatstroke!

I read a journal article recently where one of the authors talked about famous world sites which overshadow everything else nearby. The Taj Mahal is a perfect example of this. I can't tell you anything about the region; I don't even know what state Agra is in. Tourists can buy any number of Taj related souvenirs from small marble replicas to fridge magnets; entire infrastructure in Agra town is geared towards facilitating tourists' visits, probably at the expense of the rest of the area. The Taj Mahal is so beautiful, it's like it sucked all the beauty out of the surrounding area and I'm sure other tourists would agree that Agra town is a dump.

If I ever go back to a tourist site which is known for having a one trick pony, I'll be looking beyond the obvious and not be so single-sighted. India has so much beauty of culture and people, but it isn't blatant and must be sought out beyond the poverty, beggars, and crumbling infrastructure. I'm sure the Taj Mahal is no different.