Last January, I was fortunate to get to travel with a team of six Colorado College students and two staff members to work with an Indian Non-Governmental Organization, Melghat Maitri, and the Korku tribal people of the Melghat region in Maharashtra. Maitri has worked with the Korku community in the past in an effort to lower child mortality rates by providing agricultural assistance, sanitary water, etc. Maitri's latest efforts, however, focused on schooling. Although the government employs teachers to work in the tribal communities, there is no follow-up to ensure that these paid employees are actually teaching. Sadly, most children are not presented with an opportunity to attend regular schooling, and many of those who do have such an opportunity soon drop out because their parents require their assistance at home or because language barriers prevent students from being successful. The tribal people speak their own languages, yet children are expected to attend schools where teachers only speak Hindi or Marathi. The goal of the education project was to show the government, by example, that if a group of volunteers can keep children in school for 100 days with solely volunteer efforts, the government should be able to keep these children in functioning schools run by paid teachers. The following piece of writing was included in a brochure of reflections and photographs which was distributed to our generous donors and fellow volunteers in India.
My
feelings about our trip to India are so numerous and complicated that I find
the prospect of putting them into words intimidating. One thing I know for certain, however, is
that I feel so incredibly grateful to have been given the opportunity to take
part in such a remarkable experience.
During the months our team spent
preparing for India, I read Indian novels, watched documentaries, followed
Indian newspapers, and worked with the team to try to gain some sort of
understanding of the country and prepare for the trip ahead. I was warned of “culture shock,” and given
endless advice about what to expect and how to cope. Upon arriving in India, I quickly realized
that no amount of second-hand knowledge could ever have prepared me for the
overwhelming smells of curry, pollution, incense, and burning trash, the
brilliant array of striking colors, the disorderly and chaotic traffic, and the
sheer number of people and animals. No
amount of literature could convey the assault on the senses that is the Indian
experience. In travelling to a culture
so different from my own, I expected the big things to be different. What I did not expect was that nearly everything—even
the smallest of mannerisms, from a wobble of the head to a wiggle of the
fingers—would be entirely new and exciting.
Despite this, in thinking about our
time in India, particularly at the 100 Days School, I realize that it was the
similarities rather than the differences that made the greatest impression on
me, perhaps because they were not entirely expected. The time we spent in
Chilati, teaching the children and letting them teach us, should have been
completely out of my comfort zone. We
were half way around the world, in a tiny rural village, interacting with
people who did not speak our language.
Yet, despite these differences, Chilati and the 100 Days School very
quickly began to feel like home.
Communication barriers between us and the children were almost
non-existent. Conveying what we were
thinking through words became inconsequential compared to conveying what we
were feeling through universal physical expression: a smile, a wink, a dance. Our bonds with the kids were unique because
they were unburdened by language; words that were necessary for communication
were learned easily, and words that were unnecessary were forgotten, rendering
our interactions beautiful in their simplicity.
The time we spent in India was
everything I had hoped for plus far, far more.
I returned to the states feeling inspired to understand the world on a
greater scale—to travel more, to challenge myself more, to expose myself to
uncomfortable but potentially enlightening experiences, to read more, to learn
more. From now on, I hope to face life
with the understanding that preparation and advice can only do so much, for in
the end it is only through taking chances and throwing ourselves into new and
thrilling experiences that we will reach any greater understanding of the world
we live in. I am so proud and honored to
attend a college where experiences such as this are fostered and encouraged.
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| A medical doctor, who took time off work to come volunteer at the 100 days school, shows the girls how to write their names. |
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| Serving chipati to the children. They learned how to say "more," "rice," and "thank you" in English much faster than any of us were able to learn the same words in Marathi |
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| Kunjilal: He could count well past 200 in English (although no one knows who taught him how), his laughter was contagious and his smile was irresistible, and he stole my heart. |
Further reading:
An article published in the Pune Mirror which describes the efforts of Maitri: http://www.punemirror.in/article/2/20111206201112060035201115e87dc93/Maitri-workshop-for-tribal-kids.html
Maitri's webpage: http://www.maitripune.net/Wonders_projects.html
Further, further reading:
This article, written by Arundhati Roy (a truly inspirational human being and the author of my favorite book, The God of Small Things), provides incredible insight into some of the incredible violence surrounding some of the tribal people. Although the people Maitri is currently working with, the Korku, are currently very peaceful, it is worth noting that the Indian government's ignorance of the tribal people is leading to more than just hunger and lack of education--for some, it is leading to war.
