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Illicit Cheeseburgers, Monsoon Rains and Self Help Groups: Week 4 at RBI

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Thirty-four. That is the number of malaria tablets Chris has left, and also how he has been counting down the number of days we have left in Pune.  Since we are only here for 15 more days, Chris has devised a complex formula for calculating how many days remaining, where he takes how many malaria tablets he has and subtracts 19 (he has 19 extra tablets plus another 9 tablets at home as he has to take the malaria tablets for 4 weeks upon arriving home which is 28 days). That should give the days that we have left.

The relentless deluge over Pune this week heralded not only the coming of the long-awaited monsoon rains but also marked for us the passing of our internship’s halfway point. Though the frequent downpours threaten the Americans’ continued education in cricket, we refused to let the grey skies dampen our spirits. As such, Saturday evening saw us head for the delicious food promised by a bastion of traditional Indian cuisine, the German Bakery. Almost unanimous approval resulted, although one of us was devastated to order the Arrabbiata only to be presented with what was, indisputably, Bolognese. However a return seems inevitable, due to the whispered promise of some illicit bacon cheeseburgers, a luxury we have only dreamt of these past three weeks. After consuming outrageous amounts of Banoffee pie, German Sachertorte and Baked Cheesecake for dessert, we journeyed across Pune towards the High Spirits Café, where at least one of us found greater leeway in his Indian relations. A relaxing Sunday closed the weekend, though Liam and Ollie still succeeded in soldiering to next door’s Frozen Monkey for an afternoon gin and tonic.

The highlight of our week was a field trip taken on Tuesday to visit Chaitanya, an NGO dedicated to building the capacity of the rural poor, particularly women and children, by promoting self-reliant and sustainable institutions to enable them to lead the process of development for a better life. This mission is achieved through the promotion of self-help groups (SHGs) which allow for group saving and borrowing in small villages. (Yes I did say self-help group, and yes I did abbreviate it.) Chaitanya facilitates these SHGs and their formation into local Clusters and larger Federations of 200-400 SHGs. Since being founded by Dr Sudha Kothari in 1989, Chaitanya has grown to have a reach of over 116,000 women across the state of Maharashtra! As well as providing these women with opportunities for saving and borrowing, they also provide training in a range of areas including legal, healthcare, financial literacy and improving livelihood. The women who go on these free training courses then return and share their knowledge with other villagers, contributing to the village’s capacity to sustain itself without outside assistance. We were taken to visit one such village where we were invited to the self-help group’s monthly meeting. Through Ashwini, our translator from the RBI (our Marathi is unfortunately lacking) the group was revealed to be a well-organised and professional institution, and our conversations with the villagers showed us the confidence and independence they had found through the SHG and the friendships that had formed in the process.

Chaitanya’s work in that one village, replicated in thousands more throughout Maharashtra, has improved the lives of countless women and their families. The good that has come from one woman’s belief in developing the capacity of others was inspirational for us all and is reminiscent of the words of Nelson Mandela:

“What counts in life is not the mere fact that we have lived. It is what difference we have made to the lives of others that will determine the significance of the life we lead”.

James Wright, GEO RBI intern

The Harsher Realities

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My team (Justin, Bo and I) are producing real life stories about social entrepreneurs, which will hopefully become part of the first year curriculum at EDI to help inspire the students here. It’s now the back end of week 3, and we’re halfway through the internship. After two weeks of reading, learning and discussing with our supervisor, yesterday my team were finally awarded the opportunity to start doing some practical work towards our project with a two day visit to our first social entrepreneur  having been arranged. Unfortunately, this was an opportunity I had to leave to Justin and Bo, as I am currently dealing with the harsher realities of living in a new continent…

Today marks my fourth bed-bound day, after falling horribly ill last Tuesday. Beyond just a regular stomach upset, this left me wrapped up in bed, in a hoodie and blanket with the A/C cranked up to 32 degrees because I had suddenly started feeling very cold (an unusual feeling in India) and soon after I started shivering uncontrollably. Fortunately this passed after a few hours, and I’ve been slowly recovering since, but just not quite back to full health yet. I would love to be able to issue some words of caution or advice for future interns, but unfortunately I hadn’t eaten or drank anything different from any of the other interns here, and no one else fell sick on the same day. I’m clueless as to what caused it. Luck of the draw, I guess, and one of the inherent risks.

But, I don’t want to end this blog post on a pessimistic note, and I would also like to talk about our weekend trip away last week. We’d decided to get out of Gujarat for the weekend and go visit the very scenic city of Udaipur (in Rajasthan), and it certainly was a welcome break. We visited the City Palace, which is a very interesting and not very typical traditional Indian looking centre piece of the city. The next day we took a cable car up to the top of a big hill (or small mountain, I’m not sure which it was) which had spectacular views of the city. We (thankfully!) also had beer for the first time since we left, because alcohol is illegal in the state of Gujarat, although as we’ve heard, it does not actually stop people. However, oddly, despite being legal in Udaipur, you won’t find beer on any menu and the charge is disguised on the bill as an abbreviation or increased tax…. fishy!

In Udaipur we also discovered other foreigners, which in Ahmedabad to call rare would be generous, and it left us staring at them as much we get stared at in Ahmedabad. In Ahmedabad, we’re quite the novelty, people want to talk to us, take photos with and/or of us, poke us or just very politely continuously stare intensely at us. Occasionally the people who approach you will be after some money, through begging or persistent selling; however, I would dare say is not as bad here as it is in the tourist hot spots. Here, in fact, locals have helped us out on a couple of occasions when rickshaws have attempted to overprice us, as I’m told there is currently a movement to fight these kinds of behaviour as a part of the population want to improve India’s international image. It is for the sake of those people that you end up haggling over pennies.

Overall, on weekdays when we’re stuck at our slightly secluded campus, with the repetitive food, seclusion, painfully slow internet, the lack of a way to get a little taste of home as literally everything has been changed for the Indian pallet (not even Snickers or Coke tastes the same, and all the crisps are flavours you’ve never heard of, and even the ‘most authentic’ foreign food restaurant in the area mixes things up. I ordered Bolognese, what I got was indisputably Arrabbiata) and other minor things start to hack away, day by day, at your admiration and patience. But on the weekends however, when you venture out to the city or elsewhere, and you get to eat amazing food at vibrant street food stands, haggle with auto drivers, mingle with the curious locals, see incredible buildings with architecture you’d never find at home, and see sights like cars driving the wrong way, four people on a bike, a complete disregard of queues, sights that the locals simply dismiss as “this is India” when you question them about it. That is when you really grow an affection for this place, which I have. I can comfortably say I love this country and can’t wait to explore it further.

Jewel of the East: Week 3 at RBI

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As we near the halfway point in our internship, we have started to become accustomed to the daily routine at the RBI. Friday evening rolled around, the working week was over, and it was time to celebrate the two birthdays in the group. The Wari pilgrimage was making its way through Pune, reducing the city to a standstill; we found ourselves bound to the local vicinity. Forced to travel on our weary legs, we managed to stumble to our oasis: the Frozen Monkey. Sweet relief flowed through our bodies as we supped from the golden nectar filled chalice that is the frozen monkey beer tower.  As the GEO team will be able to testify, a night of revelry was had…

James departed in the early hours of Saturday morning to meet his parents, who had ventured across the plains on holiday. In losing James, we had also lost our silent guardian, our watchful protector. Without the group’s self-appointed tour guide, we were distinctly lacking in cultural knowledge and thus, found ourselves jumping into rickshaws and heading to the local sports shop. After a successful shopping spree, we returned kitted out in our ‘replica’ Indian cricket shirts and armed with bat and ball, we were ready to educate our American counterparts on the beautiful game of cricket.

After a long and lazy Sunday morning we set about exploring what the market streets of Pune had to offer. Pungent aromas tickled our nostrils, the hustle and bustle commerce spilled onto the streets. We wove our way through crowds, industry and enterprise greeting us at every turn. Marvelling at the rapid progression of the genetic modification of animals in India, two herds of cattle waltzed lazily past us, a fifth limb emanating from the nape of their necks. We ventured into a ‘tailors’ with the intention of leaving with a made to measure suit. The reality found us, marred by the language barrier, with no such luck.

As the start of the working week raised its head, we awoke from our restful slumber and were once again greeted by the resident yoga master press ganging unwilling volunteers into bodily contortion. Work progressed at a rapid rate, with minimal distraction and a level of intensity in the office unmatched by even the most motivated of workforces. The only relief we allowed ourselves came on Brent’s birthday when we descended upon BBQ Nation for a feast of heavenly meats: fragrantly spiced prawns, succulent chicken, melt-in-the-mouth cod. It is safe to say that we left thoroughly satisfied.

We now leave you to dwell on the sombre words of one of our own, a reference to our dwindling time here in paradisiacal Pune:

“Weep not for what you have lost but for what you are yet to lose” (Desimone, 2015).