Development Alternatives (DA) is a well-established, 25-year-old organisation based in New Delhi. Its mission is the large-scale creation and dissemination of sustainable livelihoods and it carries this out by combining environmental, technological and social interventions. DA's work is enormously varied and far-reaching but its impact can be better understood through the activities in and around its field base, TARAgram. It is here, in the remote and harsh Bundlekhandi climate, that we see local lives being changed by new (and environmentally sound) housing, better use of existing natural resources, self-help groups, micro-enterprise training, rights awareness and much, much more.
Documentation Intern
- To create a book of case studies showing the local impact of DA's work.
- Planning and carrying out the interview process
- Background research
- Photo and audio documentation
- Writing the case studies
- Occasional newsletter articles
- Editing and proof reading colleagues' work
January - February 2007
When we arrived at work today, the main room of the office was upside-down because the site manager had suddenly decided it needed painting. More noticeably, there was a ladder (twice the height of the single-storey building) wedged diagonally across the full length of the entrance hall. It was quite a feat. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the lads though. They'd obviously been up very late/early trying to get this whitewash finished and were greeted with a barrage of criticism from their non-painting, senior colleagues.
It has to be said that this job seems largely office-based. True, it's an office surrounded by barren countryside on all sides, but that didn't dampen my excitement, yesterday, when I had my first (official) experience in the field. As luck would have it this took place in... a field! A livestock programme - who'd have guessed? Woodwork and pottery courses were also involved but my theme today is fields. Other themes in the weeks to come will include: catching mozzies with one hand (after 33 have bitten your face), ordering breakfast in Hindi, wearing cotton always, side-saddle passenger motor biking (for girls), food portion mismanagement and office music appreciation (Blazin' Squad and Enrique).
Today was a day of learning. I learnt that, in its training capacity, DA teaches not only people in village communities, but also staff from NGOs, civil society organisations, companies and government offices. I learnt that DA is a very ambitious organisation, that every person in every village has very different needs, that the most unlikely members of your team can have a wealth of experience to share, that you mustn't run when a swarm of black bees flies through your roof-top canteen; that bartering with rickshaw drivers isn't scary (but I'm going to be very bad at it); and that kameez shirts are not intended for girls with broad shoulders.
March in Niwari
I seem to be entertaining people without meaning to. It's always nice to make people laugh but I'm getting dangerously close to being type-cast as the resident clown rather than this mysterious 'development professional' character my colleagues like to talk about. Yesterday was the International Women's Day procession through Niwari. Over 800 hundred local women gave up their time (very valuable time when you're running the household, farming and bringing in most of the food or wages) for the second year running, to join their fellow self-help group members and remind the local authorities / men what 'strength in numbers' really means; quite a sight to behold and even better to be part of. I was multi-tasking as official photographer, reluctant
procession dancer, speaker of three-line speeches I don't understand (handed to me in Hindi) and awkward foreign novelty. Jokes aside, it was an amazing day. Those ladies are quite an inspiration and that's only on first impressions! I can't wait to speak to them properly... although they do make me nervous. And these nerves are more about the expectations of me as a magic 'international' employee of DA, rather than the unpredictability of 20 excitable (and surprisingly strong) women from Niwari.
There are two small lizards making a lot of noise behind a picture on the wall. They're either fighting, dancing or dusting. I see these geckos quite often and they're always on the wall. Apparently if you step on their tail it comes off and another one grows in its place (perhaps that's why they stay on walls?).
September 2007
We had our last proper field visit today. We spoke with a farmer called Ram Baksh Pal, the Madore adivasi community and the famous Majra residents, (finally, in their new community hall). Man Singh took us out this time, beginning with a mini tour of his own house when we picked him up. I'd never heard him speak English before - a lot of people at TARAgram speak it, but they don't let on unless they really have to.
The atmosphere at the farm interview was one I know I'll remember; a wonderfully tranquil, early morning scene, sitting on jute cots in a clearing between the crops. It made a big difference that Ram was so knowledgeable and keen to talk about his experiences. He's doing a huge amount to spread natural farming methods locally; really helping to improve local yields.
In contrast, the Madore interview was a little intimidating, or rather, the group of (tipsy) on-looking men were. It was their wives and daughters who'd led the project so we were largely talking to them. This hasn't proved a problem in a lot of cases, including adivasi communities (DA has played a big part in changing gender attitudes) but here there was a definite feeling of disapproval.
I don't think I realise how much I now take for granted. The roads, for example, or the, erm... erratic driving styles. Or the jute 'cots' we're always given to sit on during interviews; the ladies' colourful veils; crowds of curious spectators; the "namaste"; the buffalo herds on the road. The fact that we will pass a deserted track one day and find ourselves travelling out of it the next, en route back from a village. Or simply driving for miles on end, in the middle of nowhere, with only the occasional cyclist, house, or goat to break up the view.
I don't know how I'll be able to convey all this at home. In a funny way, it's been exactly what I hoped for. Such a blessing.