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.

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.

Case Study: clean streets in Rahlana thanks to a new soak pit

Just three months ago the streets next to Jagdish Sharma's house were filthy. Flies and mosquitos hovered over the dirty surface water and the smell was overpowering. All the waste water from Rahlana's hand pumps flowed over the land. Pigs enjoyed the cool mud but villagers were often ill with stomach problems from the bacteria. These unhygienic conditions were dangerously close to the drinking water source and affected many children in the nearby school. Women collecting water after dark often fell over, vehicles found it hard to navigate the uneven roads, pregnant ladies and the elderly found it dangerous and Jagdish felt embarrassed when guests came to stay. From 4am until 9.30pm the hand pump was constantly in use providing water for 40 families and when women washed cooking pots at the well there was even more waste water.

In December 2009 GVNML built a soak pit next to all 15 hand pumps in Rahlana, with funding from Wells For India. The closest pump to Jagdish's house also has a khali, or animal trough. Waste water from the pump first flows into the trough for birds, cattle and dogs to drink, then excess reaches the soak pit and percolates into the soil, recharging the ground water. The streets and drinking water are kept free from dangerous waste water and the villagers are healthy and happy.

Before GVNML started work on the soak pits, Jagdish thought the problem could never be solved. There was little unity between the village community to take action and they didn't have the technical expertise. There is now a new sense of cooperation in the village. Residents are proud of their clean streets and work together to keep them that way.

A safe delivery for Mandora’s first child

Mandora was afraid about what would happen during the delivery. She did not know how old she was, probably around 18 but this was her first pregnancy and she had severe stomach pains. But as soon as she entered the hospital feelings of relief swept over her. Mandora had a sense that she was safe now and everything would be alright.

She had been preparing for this day for some time. Three months after Mandora fell pregnant she visited her village health worker, Shyam Lata. Shyam took her through various steps to ensure Mandora could give birth in a hospital and not in the village with the traditional midwife, known as a dai in Hindi.

For Shyam, one of the most crucial steps was persuading Mandora’s family, in particular her husband Ram Charan and father-in-law that giving birth in hospital was the safest option for mother and child. Luckily Shyam had recieved training from GVNML which gave her confidence in convincing them.

First, Shyam took Mandora to the government run Baby Childcare Centre to register her pregnancy, her course of tetanus immunisations was started and she was given iron tablets. It is essential to have an appropriate vehicle to get to hospital. A lack of planning means some pregnant women are taken on motorbikes or tractors, leading to dangerous deliveries during the journey. But Mandora’s family arranged to hire a jeep in the village and already knew the charges and the right mobile number to call when they needed it.

It was the final month of her pregnancy and when Mandora’s stomach pains came, Shyam and the village dia were called but after 2 hours the contractions had not increased. They decided to take her to hospital but were sure to carry the safe delivery kit with them, which includes salvon, a clean knife for cutting the umbilical cord and a safety thread in case the baby was born on route. Shyam had called ahead to the hospital so the midwife was ready and expecting Mandora. At Nagar, the nearest hospital, the doctors gave Mandora glucose and an injection to give an easy delivery. A healthy baby boy was born on 10th April 2010 and named Vikash. The baby was immunised and the mother given pain relief and antibiotics.

Giving birth in a hospital is quite a new idea to the families of Itakhoi village. Shyam has been a health worker here for 7 years and tries to show people the downfalls of traditional delivery practices and offers them advice backed by modern science. There are many misconceptions- women don’t breastfeed their new born children for the first 5 hours, giving them Indian sweets instead; the umbilical cord is cut with a knife also used for cutting crops and a mixture of turmeric and ghee is used as an antiseptic.

After giving birth, tradition states the mother and baby must sleep on a floor covered with jute bags and ash until the mother and baby’s first bath. The date for this wash is often set by a priest and could be up to 10 days later. It is thought that taking iron and folic acid supplements when pregnant creates large babies which will be hard to deliver, and eating too much could squash the baby. For these reasons the woman is often weak when she gives birth, leading to more health complications for her and her child and sadly, maternal death and child mortality.

Since 1994 around 500 dias and 225 health workers have been trained by GVNML in 250 villages. This has dramatically increased the number of safe deliveries from 10% to 75%.

Foranta - free to be a child

Her grandmother was just 2 years old when she married; her mother was 5 when she married her 7 year old father. It seemed only right that 10 year old Foranta should follow tradition and be wed young. It was just what happened here, especially as there were fewer girl children to go around.

In fact, Foranta’s father Ambalal had made an agreement 5 years before that she would marry the son of a friend’s friend. That son was now 12 years old. If he went back on the promise, his friend’s own daughter’s wedding would be called off too. In India this process of exchanging children to make good marriages is known as Ala Sata and it stems from the shortage of young girls.

Ambalal had made the commitment, and when Foranta was 9 years old he started making the wedding preparations. He bought all the ingredients to make sweets, vegetable dishes and snacks and built a special structure out of the mud for cooking on. All his relatives and everyone from his village, Shalsagar was invited to the party.

A member of the Village Development Committee (VDC) heard about the upcoming wedding, and three days before it was due to take place they visited Ambalal and urged him not to let the marriage happen. He seemed determined to go ahead with it. One of the CBOs (Community Based Organisations), the Youth Mandal or Youth Council, became aware of the situation and that Ambalal was ignoring the VDC’s request. They informed the Sub-Divisional Magistrate who sent a teacher to meet Ambalal and explain the legal implications he could face- imprisonment and a fine. The official also informed the police who came and took Foranta’s father to the police station. The next day Ambalal faced the Block Level court and signed a written agreement that his daughter would not get married until she was 18, and until that time she would attend school.

Foranta is a shy child, but when she does speak she tells of how much she enjoys school. She is making use of a Cluster Resource Centre GVNML set up, reading interesting books and painting. She feels free to be a child. If she was married, she said she would feel other responsibilities and would be told not to behave like a child.

Her mother said she had no idea about the drawbacks of chid marriage, she thought it was normal. Now that she knows the negative effects it can have on children she feels very strongly that girls should not be married before the age of 18.

Looking back, Ambalal is thankful to the VDC for stopping the marriage. He has saved a lot of money that would have been spent keeping a good relationship with his son-in-law’s family until Foranta went to live with her husband aged 15. When her husband’s family visited, Foranta would have had to cover her face and he sees now it is not good for a child’s life to be married young and miss out on an education.

In this case, the VDC weren’t just responsible for stopping one child wedding, they turned Foranta’s parents into advocates against child marriage. It is these changes in behaviour which will now pass down through generations of her family. Changing traditions which have been alive for hundreds of years is a slow process, and it is not just new laws that will change behaviour. It takes significant social efforts to make the smallest revolutions here.

In 2009-10, 12 potential child marriages were reported and stopped. It is estimated that in Rajasthan 72% of families arrange a child marriage before their daughters are 18. GVNML is working with VDCs in 8 villages to stop upcoming child marriages. GVNML’s work with Sub-Divisional Magistrates encourages them to recognise the requests of CBOs, particularly in this issue.

20 things you didn't know about my new life in Laporiya village

1. Laxman Singh's grandfather used to be King of Laporiya and a few other villages. I'm living with him and his extended family. They see themselves as members of the Rajput caste, one of the major Hindu warrior groups in India.
2. There are 150 different species of birds. Some are very rare, and it's because of GVNML's conservation programme these birds thrive here.
3. It's very hot in Rajasthan this time of year. In the nights I usually sleep on a day bed outside because my room is too hot. There's not much light pollution here so you can see all the stars.
4. My bedroom is just off a big courtyard and used to be a communal bathroom. It's completley tiled and still has lots of taps in it.
5. Indian toilets are not like the ones back home in England. I'm gradually getting the hang of them and have given up using toilet paper.
6. If I want a shower in the evening it's best to fill a bucket early in the morning, otherwise the water in the tank on the roof gets so hot during the day it's almost boiling.
7. Everyone who lives in Laporiya loves roti, they eat it three times a day normally with one or two vegetable dishes. There is no rice here and wheat is definitely the staple food.
8. My NGO, GVNML is working with a UK development agency called Wells for India. Through their funding GVNML have built lots of new wells in the surrounding villages and spread their innovative chouka system, changing the livelihoods of hundreds of local people. The parents of the girl in the photo can now afford to send her to school, thanks to the crops (field behind) they are now growing on land irrigated by a new water system.
9. My new boss, Jagveer (Laxman's brother), is big on badminton and usually starts the day playing it on a court drawn in the dust in the car park. He's a lot better than me and said my serve was poor- must try harder!
10. Laporiya runs on hot, milky, sweet Chai. I normally get woken up with a cup of chai at 6.45am, prepared by the office cook, who is a sweet lady called Sanju but we have trouble communicating with my limited Hindi and her limited English.
11. Sanju does a mean cold coffee, but only in the afternoon once the freezer has been on for a few hours. I'd say it's better than Cafe Coffee Day.
12. Laxman's father, Ragunate, has a 'mistake in the head' I'm told. He's physically fit but I think he has alzheimers and sometimes shouts or thinks it's dinner time when it's morning, or forgets he has eaten.
13. Laxman has adopted me as his daughter, and says it's now his responsibility to find me a husband. He has joked that when Rob visits in August we will have a big Rajasthani wedding. I wonder whether it would be legally binding!
    
14. Ratan (my new sister) is getting married in November or December- she has only met her husband to be once but seems pretty smitten with him. They tell me that at Rajpoot parties there is drink and non veg (ie. Meat!). My new mother has promised I can wear one of her party dresses too.
15. Spare time in the day is usually spent hiding from the 100 degree heat, inside a dark room with the desert cooler on and perhaps an Indian soap on sky tv (every family in the house has their own box).
    
16. One of our dogs, Jacqui seems to be fighting a losing battle with his fleas. If you give him any attention he nuzzles and leans against you and won't leave you alone. People often have to rescue me from him. I have to be careful not to get bitten.
    
17. You soon get used to the electricity cuts here. It's on from 7pm to 6am, then 11am to 4pm. It becomes an event when the lights and fans work again.
18. Laxman's wife, Anand, is basically in charge of cooking. She doesn't buy 'market food' like bread or biscuits, here they mill their own wheat flour and make their own butter from milk from their own cows. Much of her day is focused on preparing food.
19. In India, what your name means is very important. Anand (Mum) means very fine; Pratab (younger brother) means king; Akshay (cousin) means always win and Laxmi (younger sister) means god of money. When they asked me what my name meant, unfortunately I couldn't remember.
20. My new mum gave me a Rajasthani dress of hers and my sister and cousin had great fun dressing me up in it and getting the scarf just so. See the picture for the final result.