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...

Testing times in Varanasi

It's no secret that at times I find my placement a struggle but one of the things that helps me through it is the community of VSO India volunteers always there to offer an ear to listen to your latest problems and the distraction of days spent together. Another UK volunteer, Debs, and I had planned a trip to Varanasi, in Uttar Pradesh, two months ago and were both looking forward to the chance to catch up, having last seen each other 3 and a half months before.

My 18 hour train from Jaipur to Varanasi was fully booked for the day we were supposed to meet, so I left Jaipur a day early and spent the first day on my own in one of the oldest cities in the world. The problem was Debs never arrived; in fact she never left Kolkata. Her train was cancelled and I was faced with a weekend alone at a time when I most needed the company.

But these times are sent to test us. So after some moping and considering trying to change my train to an earlier day, I became determined to enjoy myself. It wasn't just that I was alone, it was the expectation I'd built up of a comforting weekend. Luckily the guesthouse we'd picked was well geared up for travellers, so I booked myself on every tour going. A dawn boat ride along the ghats, a sunset boat ride and a walking tour of the old city. In fact, after a couple of days I actually started to enjoy myself. I got into the swing of chatting to other travellers and spent one day with a couple of Canadian friends. By the end I felt immensely proud of myself that I'd survived the experience, I felt stronger and more aware of my own ability to cope.

Now Varanasi isn't perhaps the best place to go travelling on your own. Lonely Planet describe it as one of the most overwhelming places in India filled to the brim with touts, locals trying to drug you with contaminated chai, gangsters, food poisoning, burning bodies and dirty narrow airless streets.

Perhaps it's because I've become used to India and how to handle the opportunistic locals attempting to take advantage of tourists, but I found the city strangely relaxing. Yes, there were touts waiting for me when I left my guesthouse but they were harmless. It was dirty and humid, and the power supply was terrible so little relief from fans, there was lots of undoubtedly dodgy street food but I didn't touch it, choosing instead to eat almost all my meals in a German bakery who put all their profits into a kid's school and a women’s upliftment charity.
Looking out onto the Ganges, lined with Hindu temples from my guesthouse balcony filled me with calm, my eyes resting on the wide open space the river and its dry bank filled. 60,000 Hindus visit the ghats along the Ganges each day to take a dip, believing that the holy waters will wash away their sins. Dying in Varanasi, or being cremated here offers instant liberation from the cycle of birth and death and 300 bodies a day are cremated in two burning ghats. It was humbling to observe the process, to know that although this was a sad moment, these families believed they were guaranteeing everlasting life for the deceased. Some members of society aren't burnt; the bodies of babies, pregnant women and sadhus (holy men) are lowered into the water attached by ropes to a stone and left to sink to the bottom, often rising to the surface a few days later as the ropes disintegrate, nibbled by fish. At dawn I saw a distressed father dropping a baby shaped parcel into the river. A life over before it had even begun.

Simultaneously religious ceremonies hundreds of years old stay alive in constant performances along the waters' edge. The daily evening aarti ceremony, performed by Brahmin (priest) students, offers prayers to Shiva, the Ganges and the obligatory request for World Peace. I offered my own pujas over the weekend, praying for strength and as I saw my candle burning brighter than all the rest as it floated away, I felt my request had been granted.
Photos, from top to bottom: Dawn boat trip; view from my guesthouse balcony; piles of wood for sale at the burning ghat; Varanasi preparing for the evening aarti ceremony.