Lighting up Laporiya during Diwali

Yesterday was Diwali, or the Festival of Light, India's biggest festival. It's a 3 day holiday in India, much like Christmas with lots of Happy Diwali phone calls, texts and emails. Living with my family in Laporiya, I had the opportunity to witness the whole process. It started a couple of weeks ago when all rooms had to be thoroughly cleaned, our office was repainted and new bed covers and carpets were bought for each bedroom. This was all to please Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and yesterday was given over to her worship. We invited her into our house, lighting small earthen butter lamps or diyas to illuminate her way and painting footprints before each doorway so that she would know which rooms to enter. Apparently Laxmi likes cleanliness, so will enter the cleanest rooms first.

During the day we had a special breakfast which included keer (delicious, sweet rice pudding), and puri (deep fried flaky roti) and prepared plates for puja (offerings). Half the family went to the nearest city to buy sweets and other items to help make the offerings.

As night fall approached, the small butter candles were placed all over the house, on the edge of each step and on every windowsill. Climbing to a high point in the building we could look out over the village during a regular powercut to see hundreds of flickering candles shining out of the darkness. The priests had given the designated time of 6.30pm to 8pm to make our Lakshmi puja, so each family assembled in their own living quarters to present spices, grains, sweets, incense and holy thread to the goddess, hoping she would bring wealth and happiness in the coming year. The puja ended with a special devotional song to Lakshmi then touching the feet of elderly family members as a mark of respect.

After attending puja with my boss' family, then in my father's study to his cheque books and money, it was time for a brief makeshift session in my room. I didn't have a picture of the right god, but luckily my sister had bought a spare one for me. My father wished me peace, happiness and money for the future and pressed a tilak to my forehead as the room filled with incense. This was one night where the lights in every room were left on to welcome Lakshmi.

Crackers and sparklers followed and afterwards I sat quietly at the front of the house, drinking my evening milk and watching the bright explosions over the village. Quietly contemplative and somewhat missing my family during this time of togetherness.

Today everyone is wearing new clothes, and according to tradition, all the villagers came to our house to offer sweets and say Happy Diwali. More puja was made, this time to Lord Krishna, who is the cow herder. This involved the women of the house gathering around a large cow pat while a lady Brahmin priest mixed it with curd and sweets and other goodies while singing praises to the god. I've been told vehicles will also be worshipped today.

More photos of the village

Inspired by the success of my previous wander around Laporiya, I ventured out again, this time at dusk began to set in and homes were busy with activity before nightfall. Along the way I met a Grandma, saw a buffalo being milked, was pestered by children to take their photo, invited into a house for chai and introduced to a wrinkly day old baby.

A walk around Laporiya

Celia, another VSO Volunteer came to visit me in Laporiya this weekend and this morning we did something I've rarely done before- we went for a walk around the village.

Here are some of the sights we saw on the way...

One step closer to enlightenment

I approached the gates of Dhamma Thali Vipassana Meditation Centre on the outskirts of Jaipur with feelings of trepidation, having committed myself to learning an ancient meditation technique for 10 days in complete silence. The rules were extensive, aiming to create the best possible environment for students and enabling us to live like nuns to concentrate on purifying ourselves. Noble silence meant silence of body, speech and mind so no speaking, eye contact, gestures, writing or reading. We could talk briefly to the management if we had problems, and ask the teacher questions during set time periods, but without entering into long discussions. Easier to follow were the 5 precepts- no killing, lying, stealing, sexual misconduct or use of intoxicants. Men and women were segregated with different residential quarters, dining halls and walking areas. Even married couples had to abstain from all contact. There were around 80 people on my course, 50 men and the rest women, with only a handful of foreigners. The timetable was strict and involved 10.5 hours of meditation per day, starting at 4.30am and finishing at 9pm.

These restrictions seemed a small price to pay for the promise of a step closer to enlightenment and liberation from suffering. After all, Vipassana is the same technique that enlightened Gautama Buddha 2500 years ago. Although it has its roots in India, it spread throughout Asia and over the years the practice was gradually corrupted. Burma kept the technique alive in its purest form, and that’s where our teacher, Goenka-Ji learnt it. As a wealthy but stressed businessman afflicted with intense migraines, he had consulted the finest doctors in the Western world and was prescribed morphine but knew he had to find another way to ease the pain. When a friend recommended Vipassana, Goenka sceptically underwent teaching to cure the headaches, but cured much more than that. When his parents moved to India and his mother’s health deteriorated, Goenka got a visa to stay in India and teach her the technique. Gradually more and more people saw the impressive results and asked for teaching and his visa was extended and extended. Now there are Vipassana Meditation Centres all over India and in many other countries, training hundreds of thousands of students. It’s worth noting that Vippassana is not sectarian, it does not try and convert students to Buddhism, although I did notice certain expected beliefs in karma and reincarnation.

In Dhamma Thali the teachings are given via tape, with every meditation session beginning and ended with Goenka’s chanting or guidance. In the evenings video discourses explained the theory behind the technique, illustrated with stories passed down from the time of Buddha. For the first 3.5 days we practised Anapam meditation, focusing on the incoming and outgoing breath and honing all our attention on the sensations we felt in the small triangle underneath the nose and above the upper lip. Sitting crossed legged for so long brought deep pain at first especially in my back and feet, and my mind fluttered around past events and events that might happen in the future. Like Goenka says, so often our thoughts are in the past or the future, we live in the present so rarely.

The afternoon of Day 4 was the first teaching of Vipassana and Goenka guided us to feel sensations in every part of our body, moving from head to feet with the aim of seeing things as they really are. The first time I experienced this was extreme, intoxicated with the power of my mind, feeling the pressure inside my skull about to explode. I was aware of every muscle as I moved over my face, I could feel what it feels like to be an elbow. The mind was truly alert and sensitive to the thousands of subtle sensations moving all around us. As we practised more and more in the forthcoming days, I experienced ‘free flow’, sensations moving seamlessly through my arms and legs like electricity. Where there were intense blocks of very strong sensations, such as the right hand side of my back, free flow was impossible, but we worked to disperse the pain. So what was the purpose of all this? The sensations are chemical reactions illustrating perfectly the law of nature that all things are impermanent, in time all will pass. So any negative thoughts, anger, hatred will in time pass, just like good times will pass too. We have to learn how to cope with the ups and downs of life. And how does the technique teach us to do this? By observing the sensations objectively without reacting to them, without creating aversions to the pain, or cravings for the free flow. These two emotions only lead to suffering when unwanted things happen and wanted things don’t happen. Vipassana relies on a belief of sankharas- negative habit patterns that we keep hidden inside ourselves and reinforce every time we get angry. By not generating any new sankharas (not reacting), we rid ourselves of our misery without planting any new seeds and gradually become lighter. Once they are all gone, liberation and the final goal comes.

On Day 7 we graduated to being allocated ‘cells’ in the pagoda. Tiny sparse rooms with port hole windows and nothing but a cushion on the floor. On Day 10 we learnt Metta meditation, which is a way to spread love and compassion for all beings, to feel peace and harmony. Then it was time to speak to prepare us for life outside the centre the following morning. What exactly do you say to people you’ve been sitting next to, eating with and experiencing overwhelming feelings but haven’t yet said a word to? The first thing I did after collecting my mobile from the safe was phone my Mum and check all was well with the family. One of the fears that had come out was that something would happen to me or my loved ones and I’d never make it back to England, never see them again. Luckily, as my teacher had reassured me on day 8, they were all safe. And the last day was fun. Less time for meditating and more time getting to know people, trying to make sense of what happened and making the gradual transition into the real world.

So was it worth it? I definitely found the course very tough at times, especially the four hour block of meditation every afternoon. It felt like being confined in a cross between a monastery and a mental asylum. I did lose focus towards the end and wasn’t observing sensations for the entire time. By day 10 I’d planned almost every future major life event and relived some of the past key moments. It was hard not having contact with Rob and added to the sense of isolation I already felt being in Laporiya. But, I got through it, I’ve got a changed sense of perspective on life and I came out feeling more positive with a greater idea of what was important to me. And it was peaceful living in a forest area, living so close to monkeys and peacocks and without laptops, mobile phones and books. In many ways it’s easy not having to talk to people, it seems to take a lot of stress out of life!

There were a few major learning points for me. An enforced sense that attachment only leads to misery, attachment to money, possessions, or a strong attachment to another person without realising that you are 100% responsible for your own happiness. By getting angry at situations and letting negative thoughts take over you are only reinforcing your own behaviour patterns, even when times are tough we have to stay positive and balanced to be able to cope, knowing that change is inevitable and things will get better. I learnt one technique to control craving and aversion and am consciously trying to make an effort to stay equanimous. And it’s not about avoiding all pleasure, life is to be enjoyed but they teach us to enjoy it in a balanced way. I’m still not convinced by this and can’t help feeling that to have intense feelings of joy is worth painful sensations. I aim to feel compassion for all, to go out of my way to be nice to people, to feel at peace. As they said to us on Metta day, “May all beings be happy”.

Image (c) www.chopra.com

A long trip east

India is a big country, the scale of which you can barely contemplate without having experienced it. Back home in the UK just about the longest journey we consider in the south is the 14 hour drive to Scotland and even that is almost unbearable for my Mother, much to the dismay of Father who considers the highlands his spiritual home. India is 13 times the size of the UK and in the last 10 days I've spent 74 hours on three trains and at least 10 hours on buses. It took a mammoth 37 hour train journey to reach the state of Orissa, in the south east of India. It’s often said that there is no other country as diverse as India, with so many religions, cultures and traditions. Each state could be a different country. I’d gone from the roti eating, dry, semi-arid north to a land I didn’t quite understand where rice is the staple and you have to eat it with your fingers, humidity overwhelms and dinner is eaten off a banana leaf and regularly includes meat.
I visited the jungle town of Brahamphur to observe an Advocacy Workshop for People Living with HIV & AIDS (PLHA) facilitated by a fellow VSO Volunteer. Using what I learnt during the two day workshop, I'll go on to document GVNML's Advocacy efforts in Child Rights and Reproductive Health. By a happy coincidence, Brahamphur also happens to be where Ashley and Richard live, who I had my Country Orientation with for a month in Delhi. I had the opportunity to catch up and see their flat and life in placement. On my second evening there, Richard’s organisation, PREM, hosted a birthday party for a friend of theirs. During the party we were treated to cake, cultural performances filled with energetic street dancing combined with traditional moves and a delicious South Indian dinner. Jacob, PREM’s Director, set up the NGO to support tribal children through education where none was available in their villages. Now they work in 5,000 villages with 47 hostels looking after the children for 10 months of the year while they go to English medium schools in the towns and develop into some of the most well-mannered young people I’ve ever met.

Brahamphur is a mere 10 hours from Kolkata by train so after the workshop I paid a trip to the cultural capital of India to see two more VSO friends, and the leftovers of Calcutta’s colonial past. It’s a remarkable city- a bursting metropolis with lush greenery, wide roads, taxis with metres, pavements good for strolling, malls, huge parks and restaurants serving all manner of food. We ate delicious Bengali sweets and Bengali fish curry, we shopped, we drank coffee and we saw the sights including the Victoria Memorial which the Britishers left behind and wouldn’t look out of place in Georgian Bath.
An exhausting, sociable trip that left me with a bad cold from the climatic changes but a greater understanding of India and the vast differences between east and west, north and south. The best bit was catching up with friends again after 6 months and seeing what other people’s placements were like.

Photos (top to bottom)- The group from our Advocacy Workshop; a typical South Indian meal; some of the PREM children; taking our place as ‘esteemed guests’ at the front; Ashley outside her flat; Debs with Tim outside her house in Kolkata; the Victoria Memorial building.

The decision to leave

This week I made an important decision, one that has been consuming my mind for a few weeks now. I decided that I will leave my placement earlier than originally planned. My period of service was for 1 year, but VSO consider a placement complete after 9 months, giving volunteers the option to leave slightly earlier and not be marked a failure. I discussed the early departure with my family in Laporiya, with my boss, and with VSO. Since I told them a huge weight has been lifted off my mind, I feel in control and positive about the future. It's not that I think I can't stay until February, it's that my reasons for going home far outweigh my reasons for staying.

I feel that I've done what I came here to do. I've had some major achievements at work, I've had my adventure and proved to myself I can cope with what this new situation has thrown at me. There comes a time when you think, actually, what else will I gain by staying out here, and what more can I do for the organisation. I'm ready to come home. I'm ready to have a bit more freedom, to not work 7 days a week, to be able to leave the house. I'm ready to spend Christmas with my family, and to see my love.

It's likely I'll be flying back to London on December 17th, so I've got under 3 months to finish off a few pieces of work and make sure what I have done is as sustainable as possible. As for what I'll be doing when I return to England, I'll be living with my parents and trying to find some temporary work until March when I plan to spend 3 months travelling in Japan, China and Nepal, but this time I'll have company.

Photo taken at Amber fort, Jaipur which I visited this week with Tim, another VSO volunteer who came for a few days sightseeing from Kolkata.

My Volunteering Story

Personal Case Study written for www.volunteeringinfo.org See the original article here

I’d been spending my spare time volunteering back home in England for a while, but I wanted more, I wanted to travel, to have a big adventure, to challenge myself and make a difference to the lives of people living in developing countries. I knew I didn’t want to pay alot of money to volunteer for an NGO where I might not have a big impact, I wanted to be supported by a reputable organisation. I did lots of internet research and went to the Volunteering Centre near my house in Bristol and VSO, or Voluntary Services Overseas, was the best I could find. VSO has a strategic alliance with the UK’s Department for International Development and work in over 40 countries, sending volunteers to share their skills rather than money. All placements with VSO are fully funded and each country has its own programme office supporting volunteers.

I applied for the Youth for Development Programme which is for 18-25 year olds, and after a long 7 month wait I was invited to an assessment day in London. VSO had been flooded with applications as the recession hit, but luckily, after group exercises and a personal interview I was accepted onto the programme. VSO matched my marketing skills to a placement in India, and once the partner organisation in rural Rajasthan approved my CV, I prepared for my year overseas. That meant leaving my job, raising over £1,000 for VSO through a sponsored abseil, immunisations, health checks, saying goodbye to my family, moving house and leaving my boyfriend behind. All VSO volunteers also attend 7 days of pre-departure training at a residential centre near Birmingham where we talk about our motives for volunteering, expectations, the development context, learn workshop facilitation skills, receive health advice and get a chance to network with volunteers being sent to opposite parts of the globe.

I arrived in India in March 2010, along with 14 other VSO volunteers from the UK, Canada, USA and the Philippines where we had a month of training on Indian culture, development issues in the country, Hindi lessons and even Bollywood dancing. I’ve been here over 6 months now, working as a Documentation and Communication Associate for an NGO called GVNML (www.gvnml.org) who work to enhance the living conditions of rural communities in Rajasthan. They do this by managing natural resources to tackle climate change, providing reproductive health care and fighting for children's rights.

Working in a developing country is very different to working back home. At times it can be painful slow to get tasks completed, even though my office is open 7 days a week. Only my boss speaks English in the NGO, so all my work must go through him with him translating from Hindi and the local Rajasthani languages. But eventually things do get finished and the sense of satisfaction is immense. In the 5 months I’ve been in placement, I’ve developed a new website, written all the content and launched it; produced a new logo and slogan for my NGO; been on multiple field visits and collected case studies; written the annual report; produced reports for donor agencies; written a brochure and helped with fundraising. All this work will help raise GVNML’s visibility, spread their good work and attract more funding, ultimately making a difference to the lives of villagers in Rajasthan.

My living conditions are also a change from the luxury of British homes. I live with my boss’ family in a 350 year old fort with 30 members of his family. There’s not a huge amount of electricity, or water, there are no showers or western toilets and in the summer it got up to 49 degrees Celsius. But, I’ve gained a new family, new brothers and sisters and parents, I’ve learnt their customs and beliefs, I eat their food, wear traditional clothes and have benefited from a new sense of perspective on life, like how much water we use in England, and how reliant we are on electricity.

I won’t pretend things aren’t hard. They are, but it’s a challenge and I’ll emerge stronger than ever. I live in a village, I have no social life except for occasional weekends away to see volunteers in other parts of India, the internet is slow but it’s one of the things that keeps me going. I’m looking forward to going home in 2011, I miss my family, friends and boyfriend, I miss normal life and the freedom we take for granted in England, but I wouldn’t have changed this experience. I know it’s one of the defining years of my life.

Yesterday's three celebrations in Laporiya

1) The inaguration of my boss' new badminton court, built within the boundary of our house over period of weeks. Ribbons were tied around the court and a holy man called in to bless and officially open the new toy. Family and GVNML staff laid coloured powder in lucky patterns on the surface, which with last night's rain have now been smudged beyond recognition.
2) A cow festival. As with most of the small festivals my family celebrate, I don't know exactly what we're celebrating, but yesterday the women of our house and some villagers put on their best dresses and gave thanks for cows, led by a lady Brahmin (Priest). Offerings of curd, buttermilk and ghee were placed near a cow statue, and later were put in a carefully shaped cow pat.
3) A pond party, to celebrate the lakes of our villages being full courtesy of the monsoon. All family members, even baby Pinku, and all GVNML staff were shipped to a temple 15kms away, sat atop a mountain overlooking the flat countryside and watery patches, and cooked a sumptious meal. I was very forcibly encouraged to dance to live music with a gentleman from another party using the famous shiva temple.

Together again

It's been over three weeks since I last posted on this blog and during that time there have been a few notable events. The main one being something I had been looking forward to for 5.5 months, ever since I landed in Delhi on the 3rd March 2010- a visit from my love. After time delayed conversations on skype for 165 days, where speaking too soon could result in 30 seconds of half started sentences and requests of, "no, you speak", I was ready for the real thing. It had been an emotional build up. Having planned the holiday months in advance, having booked all the hotels and transport, I wanted it to be perfect. But alas, in India things don't always go to plan and the week before he (my love) was due to come I was told my visa extension paperwork was not complete and I needed to come to Delhi immediately or I would have to spend our precious few days together in the Ministry of Home Affairs before I was deported. I had visions of seeing Rob for 4 days until my visa expired then being sent home while he had another week's holiday without me. Luckily all it took was a day's work with the assistance of VSO's resident visa expert and I was legally allowed to stay in India during the holiday, which meant I could check into hotels without arousing suspicion.

I got to the new Terminal 3 at Indira Gandhi International Airport early and during the hour of waiting, anticipation came out in tears. When he (my love), finally walked through the sliding doors we both had a short desperate sob and a clinging hug before I put a flower garland around his neck and we caught the prepaid taxi to our luxurious hotel. People say that VSO gives you a vicious sense of assertiveness. Living, travelling, eating, shopping alone creates self-reliance that is hard to shift. There's no one looking after you, so you have to look after yourself. When Rob offered to carry my bag later on that evening I almost cried. It's those small touches that you don't realise you miss but you do. Like carpets, full length mirrors, duvets, clothes that don't smell of mould, walking bare foot on your bedroom floor, a world without flies. When I woke up in this world trapped in the lunar landscape of the Hilton Garden Inn I turned around and with a shock realised he (the one I'd missed for so long) was in my bed. It took a couple of days to settle back into one another, to become comfortable together again but by the end the last thing I wanted was the go back to jilted conversations and an internet based relationship.


We saw the inside of a mall in Delhi, the lake city of Udaipur, the sandstone fort of Jaisalmer, the desert grains by camel and arrived in Laporiya exhausted to a duvet free environment, one that was also water free and electricity lacking, one with walls dampened by freshly fallen monsoon rains. My love was sick but we celebrated Rakhi with my adopted family a couple of days later, Rob was welcomed into the clan with puja and we took a tractor ride to the farm. 2 days was enough to want to revert back to cold duvets for three days in Jaipur at a business hotel just in time for Rob to have fever again. Saying goodbye we tried to keep things light-hearted, and although that particular day wasn't especially hard for me, it's the days that have followed which prove to be a challenge. The reality of where I'm living and what I've left behind sets in, the loneliness, the routine of endless reading, the struggles of my existence. But as ever, I'll get through it. After Rob left I celebrated my 25th birthday, I worked in the office writing an annual report for a donor organisation. I compared the day to a year ago and I fought the raging inner battle to stay positive.

Photos (top to bottom): The dusky pink sky in Udaipur; Dunes near Jaisalmer; Welcome puja in Laporiya; Playing the part in typical Rajasthani clothes; Heavenly hotels; My birthday card collection.

A volunteer's remuneration

"You're going to work for a year and not get paid for it?" asked my Grandma before I left for India, surprised that anyone would contemplate such a thing. Police officials, when interrogating you to decide whether they should extend your visa ask the same question "And you receive no salary?" "Yes", say I, the innocent do-gooder stupid enough to work for free.

You see, for me, my short professional life has never been about the money. It has been about making a difference, working for organisations I believed in, doing a job I enjoyed. I've always been happy to volunteer in the evenings and on the weekends.

No one becomes a VSO volunteer to get rich. VSO pay most of your expenses, give you an allowance and sort out your accommodation up to certain budget, but the idea is you don't make money from your VSO placement, but neither do you lose money. In reality, if you want to go on holidays or weekends away, you've got to use your savings. My allowance is 10,000 rupees a month, or £140, but compared to Indian colleagues that's a fair wage, and ours doesn't have to be spent on accommodation and supporting a family. We're lucky really.

So, our remuneration doesn't arrive in our bank accounts at the end of each month. It's etched on our memories, engrained in our future lives. Experiences so alien to life back home that they will shape our thinking for years to come. I've gained a whole new family- parents, uncles, aunties, brothers, sisters and cousins who have taken me in as one of their own and taught me how to live as a Rajput young lady. After just 4.5 months at my NGO I've got more confidence professionally and have learnt about so many development issues and how they affect local people- climate change, child marriage, sanitation, child labour, conservation. Personally I've grown stronger and more sure of myself and I'm left with a sense of satisfaction that I am using my efforts, no matter how small, to help.

Last Sunday after a staff function I was left feeling honoured that I could serve the rural communities in Rajasthan. I'd completed some work for GVNML- a new logo, a slogan (Nurturing sustainable rural change), the launch of our new website, which I wrote, and the printing of our latest annual report, and we were celebrating. The aim of the communications work is to increase GVNML's visibility so that we can spread their initiatives to other needy areas and generate more funding.
I wasn't sure what to expect at the 'logo party', and when I arrived there were 40 members of full time staff from 3 districts sitting opposite a cloth covered board. After senior staff explained the background of the logo change, six of us were invited to stand by the board and together took away the cloth, revealing the logo decorated with flowers. The annual report was wrapped up like a present and unwrapped one of the NGO founders while everyone clapped. I was invited to light a candle to celebrate. I only caught the odd word of the speeches that followed, but there was a lot of dhanyavads, or thank yous to Isabel, combined with clapping. My own unplanned speech didn't come out quite as expected, just a simple few words saying how pleased I was to be here and able to be of service. Work often progresses slowly in India, which makes it even more satisfying when it does get finished. And that warm fuzzy feeling, that's my remuneration.

Photo: GVNML staff by their new logo; the finished masterpiece; me lighting the candle in traditional Rajasthani dress.

What 210mm of rain looks like

21 cms and a few weeks is all it's taken to transform Laporiya's semi-arid landscape from a dusty desert into lush fields filled with crops. Villagers are smiling again safe in the knowledge that their family's future is secured for another yearas and their buffalo enjoy midday swims in the talab.

My 13 year old brother Pratab has never seen rain this heavy in July, anecodotely it's the best rainfall Eastern Rajasthan has seen for over 10 years. The 2009 monsoon only brought a crippling 200mm to Laporiya, well below the average of 614mm. This year we've exceeded last year's total and still have a good few weeks to go before the rains slow.

The first thing I do when I get into the office in the morning is pour the previous day's rainfall into a measuring contraption and record the amount. With funding from the Swedish Society of Nature Conservation, GVNML have been able to purchase a whole host of weather recording equipment so by next year we'll be recording changes in temperature, humidity, rainfall and wind velocity. The data will be used to guide programme activities so that farmers can better cope with climate change and protect their livelihoods.

Before the rain came...
From top: Government built farm pond on our farm; one of my Indian family's fields; the holy lake of Pushkar, 2 hours away.)

And after...