July in India

Hi Friends and Family,

Sorry it’s taken a while to share some stories in writing, but I’ve needed time to mentally digest my experiences here. India has thrown a lot at my senses, conscience, and heart… and I’ve seen only a small part of this vast and diverse country.

I’m in Chennai (formerly Madras), in the state of Tamil Nadu on the southeast coast of India. Chennai is India’s 4^th largest City, and a major center of economic activity. There’s a sizeable port here, so there’s plenty of trade-driven manufacturing industry around. Heaps of IT and software activity, and yes, plenty of call centers.
The pace of life here is pretty tame for such a large City.

This part of India is conservative. I’ve had one alcoholic drink since I’ve been here. I went with some friends to a bar at a hotel down the street from our apartment, and it felt like walking into a 1930s speakeasy during prohibition in the States. When we asked for the bar, the concierge (in a hushed voice) told us to follow him down…not one… but two long flights of stairs, into a basement in which the lights were low enough that we could barely see the other patrons, to protect their reputations I suppose. There are some less dubious night clubs around, but only a few and they're recent arrivals on the scene here in Chennai.

My time has been more focused on work and exploring the City and surrounding areas with my friend, classmate, roommate, travel buddy, and laughing Buddha- Jia- along with our new friends.

My internship has been good so far. I’m working for the IFMR Trust, an investment trust associated with a business school and research institute in Chennai. The Trust is seeking to invest in a number of services and technologies targeted at improving the lives of low-income people in India. I’m working on a project to reduce salt producers’ dependence on diesel fuel while accessing carbon markets to sell carbon credits that will help finance the project.
http://www.ifmrtrust.co.in/

We’re starting in the State of Gujurat in Northwest India that is one of the largest salt producing areas in the country. Small-scale salt producers there pump brine from below ground at a large estuarine area called the Little Rann of Kutch. Kutch is not far from where Gandhi led the salt workers in a non-violent march to protest a salt tax imposed by the British. The tax had deprived thousands of people of their livelihood.

Things haven’t improved much for the salt workers since then unfortunately. The work is arduous, and the margin of return for their efforts is very low. Diesel fuel accounts for the majority of their operating expenses. If we can help make their pumps more efficient and provide cost-effective alternative energy pumps, they should be able to increase their earning potential. I’m tasked with identifying the most appropriate technology options, and with determining appropriate financing for the project. It’s been a lot of office work, but I should be going to Gujurat in August for a field visit. I feel great about the project and am learning new things, which is always fun.

Every workday starts with a life-threatening ride in an auto rickshaw to work. Offensive driving is the norm here, and the pecking order is pretty clear. Obnoxious land rovers outrank cars and they both eat motorcycles and auto rickshaws for lunch. Women on scooters and people on bicycles somehow survive the insanity, and pedestrians are left to fend without sidewalks or crosswalks in most areas. Horrifying as the streets are here (I actually get road rage while walking around), it’s also amazing to see the calm with which most people approach getting places. Women in saris sit side-saddle on the back of motorcycles, sans helmet, and seem completely surrendered to fate while SUVs come within inches of their dangling feet at 40 mph. They have to get around…and the saris make it hard... but side saddle? In these streets?

I had intentionally fattened up before coming to India, figuring that I’d be unable to eat a lot of spicy food, and that I’d wither away after a few bouts of food poisoning. Bad assumption. The food here is great, and one bout of food poisoning hasn’t compensated for it. Only once in a month, not bad.

I’ve met some wonderful people here. The house in which I live has anywhere from 2-7 women in it at a time, as other interns come and go throughout the summer. A couple of housemates have stayed in Chennai for longer, and Jia and I have had a great time with them. One is a Canadian woman, Mary, whose wit has kept us in stitches, as has her coping mechanism for some of the challenges one encounters here. She makes a jingle out of it "Oh, it's 105 degrees and the air conditioner's broken..."

Our other longer-term housemate, Vinita, is a Punjabi woman who is working on her Phd research. She is Sikh, and embodies the gentleness and kindness that Sikhism propounds. Along with taking care of her housemates when we succumbed to various illnesses, she nurtured our spirits. She was nice enough to teach Jia and me how to wrap a sari, and couldn’t get enough of us walking around in Indian wear with our jockish American walks. She tried to teach us to walk in more of a gliding Indian style, but it just takes so freaking long to get anywhere that way. I’ve been wearing the long kurta tops and salwars that women wear in India, they’re comfortable and if I learn to walk right, I may just fit in.

Another critical strategy for fitting in is to speak English with an Indian accent. Sometimes it’s the only way to be understood. If I ask to go to Harrington Road with my American drawl, the auto rickshaw drivers have no idea where I want to go. If I say I want to go to Hah-ring-tohn Road, however, we’re clear.

The first weekend I was here, Jia and I ventured to Kanchipuram (2 hrs from Chennai), which is famous for its temples and silk. We visited an NGO that has been successful in significantly reducing the use of child labor in the silk industry, and has provided educational and economic alternatives for women and children. We saw silk being woven on a foot-powered loom. The colors and consistency of the silk saris is mesmerizing, and the Dravidian temples here are extraordinary.

Last weekend, Jia, a new housemate, Neeharika, and I went to the hills. We took a UNESCO-designated world heritage sight train to Ooty, which is surrounded by tea plantations. We then made it to a national park, which is generally where I'm happiest wherever I am in the world. No tiger sightings, but we did see a giant tree squirrel (~4ft head to tail), langur monkeys, and my personal favorite, a mongoose. (Disclaimer, not my photos) We all also had our first encounters with leeches, which may be my new 'least favorite living thing' on the planet. At least they don't carry diseases... It was worth it. The jungle was beautiful, though the monsoon season had not only made some great leech habitat- it had swelled the creeks, so we couldn't get very far into the park.

Beautiful as so many things are here, the poverty and pollution are absolutely gut-wrenching. I’ve seen both in my life, but not at this scale. The river near our house is so polluted that it is totally anaerobic, and smells accordingly. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were to catch on fire. People who have nowhere else to go live by the river when I can barely bear to walk by it. There’s a middle class here as big as Europe’s, but there are multitudes of very destitute people here.

I have met so many people who are very rich in spirit. I’ve been humbled by the majority of people’s gentleness and kindness here. Last weekend, at a temple I visited alone, I was befriended by a sweet old woman. She was from West Bengal and was touring around Chennai with her son, Chatterjee, who is working here. At first, I thought she was trying to set me up with him, but he’s already married. She just liked me. I spent the rest of the day visiting sites with them both. Such sweet people.

If you’ve read this far, I am also humbled by your interest.

Love to all,

mel