O the people I meet…

Along my month long journey across Delhi, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan, I have come across many many interesting characters. I thought I should talk about some in more detail, strangely enough a lot of them are on trains.

OCD Man:

 On my overnight journey from Delhi to my first exposure visit, I had trouble falling asleep, partially due to paranoia. I had the bottom berth. In the middle (around 2 o’clock) I was woken up by a man who had to climb into the middle berth. I stood up, thinking he would climb in immediately. Boy was I wrong. He first proceeded to unfold a sleeping bag and carefully place it on the seat. Then he took out a blanket and tucked under the sleeping bag. All of this was done very methodically and seemed like it took hours. Ok, good done! Just kidding. He then took out a pillow which he filled with air by blowing into it – the slowest process ever. Then he realized he would have to leave his bag under my berth. So he had to lock it and chain it to a bar. All of this was done with me breathing down his neck. I hope he slept well that night, even after all the curses I muttered at him.

Mother and Son:
 Second overnight journey – from second location to third: I was sitting, calmly reading my book when suddenly my window came crashing down. I struggled frantically to get it up. I like knowing what station we are at, even if its at 3 am. Seeing me struggle, this boy (around my age) came to help me. Then I hear:
- So Miss Neha, you are from Jhansi?
Him and his mother are then smiling. I am likewise freaking out! Jhansi happens to be the station I am getting off at.
- No

I stop looking at them while at the same time wondering whether I should know these people. Finally I look up at which the mother reassures me that they aren’t weird stalkers. They don’t have confirmed seats so they are looking for free ones. So they looked at the list the Ticket Collector had and happened to come across my name. I am slightly relieved. I don’t want to seem rude so I start talking to them. It happens that they are going past my stop and are extremely talkative. They seem really interested in hearing my story (I tell them the truth as to my “hometown” after a couple hours of conversation). I hear all about the boy’s brothers and how he is the only one not getting married early. He talks about his bank job and how he dreams of something more. I am briefed about Jainism and how that somehow makes them “safe” to talk to. Of course we share a cup of hot tea in the middle of the night. The mother decides to pass out around midnight. Not before inviting me to their house if I am ever in Gwalior, which of course I should consider my own home. Of course! I plan to go to such random people’s houses all the time! I get off at Jhansi at 1 am. Most importantly, the boy helps me with my luggage (which I’m growing increasingly tired of).

Man with a Rifle:

 I kid you not. This is at the third location, the most poor, tribal and feudalistic area I have visited. I am standing by a village school with a fellow colleague, waiting for women to come to start a meeting. We are talking when suddenly I see a man on a motorcycle coming towards us. He is big and burly with a large mustache. Most importantly, he is carrying a rifle slung over his shoulder. My mouth goes dry. I hope he passes by us but to my alarm he slows down near us. I am avoiding eye contact at all cost. He says, Namaste very loudly. To my surprise, the boy I am with greets him as old friends. They chit chat about various subjects, such as farming and rainfall. He asks about the gun to which he gets the mysterious response: for protection… The man then asks if I have stayed in HIS village for the past three days. The boy says yes (as I am screaming NO in my mind). He then abruptly leaves to go monitor work on a nearby dam. Apparently he is the village head, whom I have heard a lot about, and has crazy amounts of power in the area. Regardless, I am much more concerned about the gun…

Retired CBI Officer
 This is my last train character. On my way to my final posting (Lakheri, Rajasthan), which I will write tons about, I am running towards the train followed by two coolies who are carrying my suitcases. I get on to find the only place to keep these suitcases is on top of the seats. They put them up there at which point I begin to worry about how to get them down before my stop (where the train stops for 3 minutes). I am hoping to sucker in some character who will sit next to me. As I settle in, this elderly gentleman (very properly dressed, English style) comes and sits next to me. Man! No help there. Another man near us asks us to watch his luggage. Previous elderly gentleman (EG) says to me, what if there is a bomb in there. I am already alarmed. EG does not help. I smile and nod. We start talking about where we are going and what we do. Turns out he runs an NGO to help start schools for underprivileged rural children. We are equally intrigued with each other’s jobs. He then tells me that he is retired from the CBI (FBI in India). EG is your classic retired officer. He has a habit of randomly quoting things in English… loudly. For example: Make many friends, but trust only a few. He tells me this at least 10 times in 4 hours. I am entertained throughout the journey by various cases he’s solved and the crimes he’s seen over the years (one involving cannibalism!!). Our friendship is eternally sealed with a cup of tea (of course), which I offer to pay for. He replies: I don’t take money from my daughters. He agrees to let me buy chips though. Each time his cell phone rings he takes it out gingerly. He tells me he has been forced to buy it by his children. He shows me his phone background and says: “That is your aunty.” Its so sweet. I ask about her to which he says “She passed away last year, but I figured we spent so many years together, we might as well spend a few more.” I want to cry at this point.
 As my station nears I tell him I need to get my bags down. To my surprise, he gingerly takes down both bags and says I shall deliver them on the platform for you! I tell him I feel ashamed for having him help me, especially because he’s 72! He brushes me off and safely ensures that I and my bags are off the train at the appropriate place and time. I thank him to which he replies: Don’t stop until you have reached your objective. Ok, slightly random but still SO SWEET!!

I got stung by a bee and flew like a butterfly…

So last story first, I’ll work backwards. Last day in Tikamgarh – my last destination – my visit has already been extended by three more days. I love it here so I’m glad. There are five team members and me. We all eat together and all the girls live together and all the boys live together. 
Ok back to last day – me and a guy who works here, Prajwalit, were coming back from visiting far away fields (once again of chili, pomegranates and papayas). Happily coming through the fields and dirt roads on his bike, we have to go under this tree. Just as we go under, I see a boy throw a stick at the tree and suddenly things are swarming around us. They are really small and look like flies. I’m not sure what’s happening but suddenly Prajwalit speeds up, knocking the wind out of me. Imagine a motorcycle racing into a village, followed by bees… ok so I know it looks slightly funny. It wasn’t so at the moment. I’m screaming – what’s going on? Suddenly, piercing pain in my hand!!!! AHHHH dumb bee. We stop. I can’t take out the sting. Prajwalit has been bitten twice. We were a sight to look at. Eventually the bees leave, as we try to cover ourselves as much as possible. Then the crowds come:
- Your hands going to swell to twice that size
- You should get a shot
- The bees want their own self-help group, they are mad
- You should pray to the bees now
And my favorite:
- The bees follows you because of one of you stepped in cow urine (of course we blame each other)
Many suggestions later, we get white powder put on our wounds – which stung like whoa. But alas, we weren’t done with work. So off we went with wounded hands to visit more fields. We never did find that boy who was behind this…

Three Days and Two Nights with the School Teachers, and Repeat…

So my schedule right now is 6 days per project. And I’m visiting 3 projects. Out of those 6 days, I spend 3 in a village, learning from the people, seeing the project first hand. So here are random musings….
So I’ve survived three straight days in a village, Mendki, near the famous Buddhist Stupa of Sanchi. I’ve also survived my first village assignment: understanding village dynamics, a small impact study of microfinance work done, cost benefit analysis of three families. And, after eleven self-help group meetings of about 10 women, I have a thorough understanding of the microfinance work being done in the area. I feel comfortable enough to run an SHG meeting myself, a huge accomplishment if you ask me…
Lets see, I was with a school master’s family in Mendki. Unfortunately, they were told I’m from Washington. I became the center of random questions from everyone!! Some of them were really sweet and innocent – one lady asked me: “Did you come on your scooter from Washington?” I don’t even know how to respond to such things… I’ve decided not to tell village people where I’m from.
My favorite part of the stay, or most memorable I should say, was when I was having my first cup of morning tea, a girl comes in. She says I’ve been asked to come talk to 10th grade class in the school as a role model for young women. Ummmmmm, I’m terrified at this. How am I supposed to do that?!?! Then I realized their 10th grade class is a group of four girls. We all sat in a circle on the rooftop and I talked about what it was like being a girl and becoming educated, going away from home for work, etc. It was really unnerving at first and I still can’t believe they later shyly told me that they wanted to grow up to be like me. Now this isn’t at all part of my job or job description, just something that happened to come my way because of who I was staying with.
All of this was in Vidisha. I’m now in Ichhawar (two buses and one taxi later – all by myself, of which I’m very proud). Lets see what this project location brings.
So I’m back from the three day stay at Ichhawar. My stay was again at a school master’s house. Actually it was an older man with his four sons, all school masters. It was fun because I was with a girl who is 20 years old. She kept me company at random down times. Manju (her name) had recently gotten engaged and was all giggly (everyday) about it. So, she secretly talked to him every day, but get this – she had only met him once. It was really cute because she would ask me to keep watch if any of her family members were coming.
Along with such entertainment, SRIJAN is teaching farmers to plant vegetables in the area – an experience in itself. They usually plant wheat and soybean so its hard to get them to donate a little bit of their land for the more profitable vegetables. I also had to learn really fast to identify plants and to talk to groups of men about their farming practices. Never done that before but welcome to my life.
I think I’ve rambled enough. I might elaborate in the next few days. I had to get this out before I forgot it all.